So while I was in hospital, the news broke: Jeff Barnaby had died of cancer. 46 years old - eight years younger than I am, with only two feature films under his belt.
I liked things about both his films, Rhymes for Young Ghouls and Blood Quantum. I also didn't like things about both. Both were dark and brutal; both had compelling images; both also had moments where flashy style and gore and in-your-face confrontational violence took precedence over craft and storytelling and character development. I wished when I reviewed Rhymes for Young Ghouls (here and here) that he had been a bit less influenced by people like Quentin Tarantino and Eli Roth and the horror fanboy temperament, which often favours a cheap hyuk over a mature shudder, or a badass line of dialogue delivered with badass swagger over something that actually reveals character. Like so many things, I wanted to like Barnaby's films more than I actually did.
I didn't even write about Blood Quantum, which I rushed to see as soon as I had access to it, but found disappointing in similar ways, so much so that I just sold off the blu I'd bought. So much promise, but somewhat tainted by immature violence, wallowing, swagger, and scenes that seemed than they could have been more. A bit more craft, a bit more patience, a bit more seriousness of mind would have served the film so well. There are moments in it that work stunningly, still, but they only helped make the stupider moments stand out, like a crass bit of humour where one of the heroes takes a chainsaw to the head of a zombified nurse, then says approvingly of his handiwork - "new blade," a cheap joke that sapped some of the potential horror from the film. What are we watching, here, Hobo with a fucking Shotgun?
But I loved the FACT of Barnaby, as a Canadian First Nations horror filmmaker and an original voice. Even with my misgivings, I would have been excited to see a third feature by him, bracing myself with the reminder that I'd only half-liked his previous two films, but still feeling rising hopes straining inside. And I fully intended to revisit his first two films (I'm halfway through my second watch of Blood Quantum now, which I reacquired the day after he died), since sometimes a film plays better when you adjust your expectations and hopes and know what you are going to get and what you're not going to get - it can help you accept things on their own terms. I so do want to like this movie.
It's working, a bit. Blood Quantum is a pretty fuckin' remarkable movie, really. If you haven't seen it, and care about Canadian cinema, or First Nations cinema, or new voices in horror - you should. I mean, a gory zombie movie where the indigenous are immune and suddenly the Rez is a safe zone, while white society is thrown into chaos by a fast zombie plague? What's not to like about that? And the bits that do work - like an old man, fishing, discovering in horror that the salmon he's just gutted are starting to flop around - are really quite potent and memorable.
I really did think that Barnaby's best film had yet to be made, though - and now that's not going to happen. That really fucking sucks. 46 is way too young. Goddamn this cancer bullshit.
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