Editorials
‘Splinter’ – This Practical Effects Creature Feature Has Only Gotten Better With Age
By the time Toby Wilkins’ 2008 film Splinter first arrived on the scene — a limited theatrical premiere on Halloween — zombies were everywhere. Yet the first-time director managed to rework the already overused concept into something fresh, not to mention plain creepy. And with its preference for practical effects wizardry, Splinter stood out from its fellow high-concept horrors made on a low budget.
Splinter references the grandfather of cinematic zombies, George A. Romero’s iconic Night of the Living Dead, in a number of ways, apart from the most obvious. Indeed the characters are holed up and fighting for their lives against the walking dead, although in this case, an isolated gas station rather than a farmhouse serves as their refuge. Other films tend to use these pitstops as we do in real life; they are temporary detours before heading off for a proper destination. Instead the director and screenwriters (Kai Barry, Ian Shorr) bring the journey to a screeching halt, causing their story to have an even more considerable purgatory quality to it. And bit by bit, Death is making its way inside.
One of the more gratifying film situations comes from those interactions between characters who have never met before, but they are now forced to endure one another’s company. Splinter, again, is inspired by from the past here — and not just from Romero. The two protagonists, couple Polly and Seth (Jill Wagner, Paulo Costanzo), are being lovey-dovey out in the woods before a tent snafu requires indoor lodging. And before they can reach a motel — final destinations are hard to come by in this film — they cross paths with another couple: outlaws Dennis and Lacey (Shea Whigham, Rachel Kerbs).
Image: Seth (Paulo Costanzo) holds a gun up to the monster in Splinter.
Splinter moves briskly, which inhibits any substantial downtime with the characters. That fast pace keeps us engaged and the story focused, but anyone wanting meatier heroes and villains may be left wanting. What we do have here in terms of character writing, however, is not entirely anemic. When contrasting these two couples, the film offers a curious glance at relationship dynamics in the genre.
Polly and Seth are not like the usual pairings in horror; Wagner is the impulsive outdoorsy type who comes across as certain of herself, whereas Costanzo is passive, bookwise, and a bit insecure. The latter is also less outwardly emotional, which makes Seth seem uncaring. Of course, that’s the incorrect reading, seeing as Seth shows plenty of concern for everyone. Even for the ex-con waving a gun in his face. That sensitivity doesn’t end with Seth either; like the contagion here, his compassion eventually spreads to his girlfriend and their captor.
The cast may be small in numbers, but it’s not small in quality. Costanzo, whose career up to that point was rooted more so in comedy, found himself in a darker role that benefited from his humorous and unassuming presence. Pleasingly, Splinter doesn’t change Seth into a macho type after enduring intimidation from Dennis and terror from the creature. The writing shows Seth to be the same as before, only now he’s aware of and confident in his abilities. Meanwhile, Wagner’s character is the most approachable of the two at first; she’s beautiful, friendly, and straightforward. Later though, Polly is even more accessible as a person once her vulnerability emerges in the face of death and horror, all without her taking a backseat to the men. As for the story’s antagonist turned antihero, Dennis enjoys the most seismic as well as grueling transformation in the film. His humanity starts to come out as his body breaks down.
Image: Jill Wagner Shea Whigham in Splinter (2008).
In an interview with Fangoria, Wilkins called Splinter another example of the “classic infection scenario.” He went on to say, “What films like Dawn of the Dead and 28 Days Later take one step toward is the idea that something’s going to get you but not necessarily kill you.” The director took things even further by having his infection be “worse than death.” It’s more of the bone-breaking and agonizing flavor of body horror we have seen before, especially from the 2000s era, yet now there is the additional aspect of characters being conscious of their affliction and trying to fight it off. That futile battle over complete control is usually brief, but on occasion, a host like Dennis doesn’t go down without a fight.
David Michael Maurer’s frenetic editing prevents the camera from ever lingering too long on the monster’s form or handiwork; this freak of nature is so hideous and rotten it can’t be seen in full view. You might even say the human mind could only handle seeing its image in fragments. Creature-feature fans understandably eat up this film’s fungal foe, which was unique for the time. As an imaginary anomaly from the real world, this spiny and chimeric curiosity is a new and more plausible spin on zombism. Quantum Creation FX turned Wilkins’ ghastly design into a flailing nightmare that still feels convincing all these years later.
Splinter has found an audience over the years thanks to home video and streaming, but it’s also slick-looking and crowd-pleasing enough for the big screen. The heavy use of grotesque practical effects, along with a tight and no-fluff script, makes revisits stressful yet satisfying. This crawly film has only gotten better with age, especially now when handmade movie monsters are becoming more and more rare to see.
Image: Polly (Jill Wagner) and Dennis (Shea Whigham) take a peek outside in Splinter.
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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