One of the joys of watching horror films is the discovery. A new director or star. An unexpected scare. A twist on a familiar convention that renders a trope fresh and exciting again.
Thus far at TIFF, Blood Quantum has already introduced Indigenous identity and (Canadian) history into the zombie subgenre. Now, with The Vigil, there’s a fresh take on the religious/demon possession horror film.
The Vigil is rooted in the Jewish practice of Shimera, which involves watching over the body of a deceased person from death to burial. The goal is to comfort the soul and ensure it doesn’t become confused and stray too far from the body before going to its new home in the ground. The individual who does the watching is Shomer (male) or Shomeret (female) and, in the event that a family member is unavailable, it is not uncommon to pay someone to assume this duty.
This practice is explained in the film’s opening scroll as an aperitif to set the stage, but also to help educate the goys in the audience who may be unfamiliar with Jewish tradition (here I should thank Lindsay Traves for her help clarifying some of the film’s visual iconography for me).
The Vigil, written and directed by Keith Thomas, is set over the course of a single night as Yakov (Dave Davis), a paid Shomer, watches over the corpse of recently deceased Holocaust survivor Mr. Litvak. The film opens at a Footsteps meeting, an organization that helps former Orthodox Jews adjust to the secular world. A cursory introduction, presented in a slowly rotating 360 shot, outlines some of the struggles that they may encounter, which helps to establish not only the stakes, but also ground the film in a lived experience that many in the audience may be unfamiliar with.
Immediately upon exiting the apartment where the meeting was held, Yakov is half guilt-tripped/half-enticed into the Shomer job at the behest of his strong-willed cousin (Menashe Lustig). The man knows that he can prey on Yakov because the young man is financially compromised: in the wake of a tragedy (glimpsed sporadically in flashback), Yakov has lost his faith and left his Hasidic Jew community, but he is struggling to adapt to modern technology and every day activities such as finding a job. When the opportunity for paid work presents itself, he can’t afford to turn it down.
Of course, because this is a horror film, there is a reason why it has been so difficult to find a Shomer, and why the widow Litvak (Lynn Cohen) is acting a little odd, and why Jovak keeps experiencing odd hallucinatory sights and sounds. He is not alone with Mr. Litvak’s corpse; there is a dybbuk (Yiddish for evil spirit) lurking about, seeking to raise a little hell.
Like other horror films, The Vigil uses a crisis of religious faith as an outlet for horror (The Exorcist obviously comes to mind, but even more recently Saint Maud). In this case, Jakov’s past has left him vulnerable: both to his cousin, but also to the evil spirit. He tries to run – first by metaphorically leaving his faith behind, and later, quite literally by attempting to leave the house. Inevitably, however, he is forced to return and face his demons (be it grief, or a literal demon).
Director Thomas has explained that even he regards the horror aspects of The Vigil “traditional”, in that he uses jump scares and musical stingers to generate scares. The presence of an unusual corpse, a fixed setting, and an all-night time frame feels very reminiscent of former Midnight Madness film, The Autopsy of Jane Doe (the two films would make for an exceptional double bill). So aside from a truly ear-shattering soundtrack and a brilliant lighting scheme that casts ominous shadows in every corner, The Vigil stands out from its religious horror brethren principally because it offers a previously unseen glimpse into a specifically Jewish practice.
In the climax, rather than recite a prayer in Latin or wield a cross for protection, Jakov arms himself for battle by fastening the tefillin (black cubic boxes with leather straps) on his head and wrapping his arm. As he advances on the dybbuk, he recites the shema, a Jewish prayer expressing ardent faith and love of God that is spoken daily at morning and evening services. Seeing and hearing characters wield icons of faith and words of religious belief is a familiar convention in religious horror films, but here the familiar practice is rendered unique and fascinating because it is so rarely showcased onscreen.
The Vigil doesn’t exactly break the mould of demonic spirit films, though its sound design, lighting and lead performance certainly make it a solid entry. As an alternative to standard (and stale) Catholic religious horror, however, this feels like a breath of fresh air.
