There’s something tempting about the idea of a better, idealized version of yourself. As a society we’re repeatedly told that we should strive for more, look better, make more money, and fit in. This is why therapy, cosmetics and diet fads exist: to address our insecurities via industries that cater to our need (justified or not) for self-improvement.
Writer / director Bobby Miller’s The Master Cleanse takes these ideas and spins them into a satirical dramaedy with occasional flourishes of horror. The film, which just screened at both the Toronto After Dark film festival and the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival (Daniel Kurland’s brief review is here) follows Johnny Galecki’s Paul Berger in his attempt to make himself a better person. He’s a familiar character: a sad nebbish guy who’s had a run of bad luck, flashing a positive attitude to mask his pain and isolation. The very first scene set in a diner clearly and effectively fleshes Paul’s situation out when the waitress unintentionally insults him, then rubs salt in the wound by suggesting he’s completely forgettable; hell, even his mildly sociopathic looking landlord finds him intolerable. One night Paul awakens to the sounds of a cheap looking infomercial on TV advertising a retreat from Ken Roberts (Oliver Platt, unseen until the third act), the original creator of the Lemon cleanse diet. On a whim Paul applies and, after undergoing a bizarrely public confessional application process, he is accepted along with three other people, including attractive liar Maggie (Anna Friel) and young couple Eric (Kyle Gallner) and Laurie (Diana Bang). Shortly thereafter the foursome is dropped off at a remote cabin and inducted into a series of New Age-y rituals by cleanse matriarch Lindsay (Anjelica Huston).
The original application process feels like a riff on cult recruitment operations. Requiring susceptible candidates to name their pain on camera suggests the potential for future blackmail opportunities, but the video and the activities at the camp are actually far less nefarious. While group screaming exercises and vomit-inducing juice cleanses are easy comedic targets, Miller is more interested in Paul and Maggie’s journeys. A large part of The Master Cleanse is dedicated to the pair of lost souls connecting in fits and starts and the resolution of the centers on the confrontation and defeat of their emotional baggage. Still, it’s hard not to focus on the dark undercurrent that pervades the proceedings, especially early on when everyone becomes ill after consuming their compulsory juice on the first day. The resulting digestive by-product (let’s keep this G rated, shall we?) eventually transforms into slimy creatures that looks like a tadpole and sounds like a cross between a baby and a cat (Daniel’s review evokes the classic 80s monster Ghoulies and that’s pretty spot-on).
Thankfully The Master Cleanse doesn’t tread familiar ground by making Paul the only one with a creature or having it become a savage killer (don’t go in expecting Gremlins). The reason this film falls more into the dramedy category than horror is because as vulgar as the creatures may be when they first appear, as they mature they become – dare I say it – a little bit cute. The defining characteristic of the puppets used for the creatures are large wide-set, evocative eyes, which helps to humanize them immensely. Miller also wisely keeps their size under control so that they never become too threatening; instead the monsters are treated like babies or pets that must be carried around in a knapsack or blanket.
The danger is fairly straightforward to any attentive viewer (horror fans trained to spot danger will immediately pick up on tell-tale signs such as the accidental death waiver Paul signs, the scratch on shady caretaker Fredericks’ arm and the problematic nipping the creatures develop as they get older). Still, the threat is never so much about the creatures attacking the humans as questions about the safety of the clean treatment and the emotional risks involved in opening yourself up. The adorable creatures are symbolic of Paul and Maggie’s journey (and Eric and Laurie’s lack thereof), which is elaborated on at length when Platt finally shows up for the film’s third act. Unfortunately the action required to move from “elimination” to “termination” to “free” is evident long before subtext becomes text, leaving the rushed climax feeling a bit too obvious.
The Master Cleanse is likely not a film for everyone, but it is an interesting, quirky, funny film with solid creature effects and winning performances by Galecki and Friel. If the film errs on the side of simple in its resolution, that’s forgivable considering the strengths of the first two acts. It’s not a must-see, but worth a look for the curious.
The film screened at this year’s Toronto After Dark Film Festival.
