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‘Last Night at Terrace Lanes’ Review – Bowling Slasher Lands Somewhere Between Strike and Gutterball

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In the pantheon of cool horror movie locations, the bowling alley is an overlooked gem. Unsurprisingly, the tendency to feature a disembodied body part being flung down the lane means that such films are frequently horror comedies (think Anna and the Apocalypse, Cabin Fever, Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama and Fright Night 2).

Last Night at Terrace Lanes adopts a slasher approach (see: Gutterballs – or don’t), but maintains a humorous tone. The film, from director Jamie Nash and written by YA horror author Adam Cesare (working from a story by Jenna St. John), has a great logline: what if a killer cult attacked a bowling alley?

Sadly, the finished product struggles with its execution, leading to a decidedly mixed comedy slasher.

It’s the last night of business at Terrace Lanes, an aged bowling alley scheduled for demolition. Among the employees and the regulars bowling one last time, there’s Kennedy (Francesca Capaldi), a queer teen looking for some solo time with her crush Tess (Mia Rae Roberts). Unfortunately Tess has invited two boys – nice guy Pete (Lucas Sanchez) and asshole Cody (Elias Arnold) – for an awkward double date.

And that’s before the uninvited guests arrive for the evening: a group of murderous cult members dressed in identical blue tracksuits and white masks, intent on killing every single person on the premises.

For those familiar with Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield series, Terrace Lane offers plenty of overlap in terms of narrative, tone and character. In the books, small town teens are preyed upon by a killer in a clown costume in what is eventually revealed to be a larger conspiracy.

Last Night at Terrace Lanes uses the same formula, though the presence and size of the cult is immediately evident by the opening scene in which a white van full of members abducts and murders a man (Sam Lukowski) off the street.

The group is acting on orders from their leader Dove (Christopher Walker), a numbers-obsessed figure who directs them to Terrace Lanes for a mission with a fixed deadline. Following the initial massacre (which occurs at roughly the half way point of the seventy-five minute film), the survivors must hide, seek an exit, and/or fight back using weapons available in a bowling alley.

Among the living is Kennedy’s estranged father, Bruce (Ken Arnold), an employee at Terrace Lanes. Naturally Bruce has a fraught back story with his daughter that becomes the centerpiece of the film’s narrative and emotional arc. Arnold and Capaldi’s scenes together are easily the most successful part of the film, so while the family conflict isn’t breaking new ground, the father/daughter relationship works to generate audience investment in their survival.

Initially it seems as though the film will subvert expectations about who lives and who dies, but very quickly it becomes clear that only Kennedy and Bruce matter. The romance between the girls is treated as a secondary plot and Tess is almost immediately relegated to damsel in distress. This would be more frustrating if she were a proper character, but outside of Arnold and Capaldi, none of the actors make much of an impact.

This frustratingly extends to both Terrace Lane’s other employees (all of them Red Shirts), as well as the cultists. Several of the killers have unique identifiers, such as a fanny pack or glasses, but this never amounts to anything. Outside of a shrug-worthy joke involving a cultist missing a kill due to his dirty glasses, the killers have no personality or individuality. Visually the group makes for an intimidating bunch when they congregate, but the effect is dampened the further the film progresses as the emphasis shifts to Dove and his sermons.

The main joke is that they’re driven by math and spirituality. We see coordinated watches used to synchronize their movements, a crystal is used to select the first victim, and Dove regularly speaks in math-based terms (at one point, he calls the survivors “variables” and “rounding errors”). It’s a one-note joke that is clearly intended to pay off in the climax, but it’s never as funny or interesting as the production believes it is.

Therein lies the film’s biggest hurdle: the ambition and the ideas are present, but the execution is lacking. Nash’s direction is relatively flat, so action sequences lack energy and while there are plenty of murders, they’re mostly gore-free and frequently occur off-screen. Add in questionable editing decisions, such as several fades to black in the last act that drag down the pacing, and Last Night at Terrace Lanes lacks technical polish.

On the plus side, the film features several sequences that make good use of Kennedy’s bowling talents (once in the lanes; once in a hallway of all places). These moments, as well as Capaldi’s inherent likeability, ensure the film is watchable, and even fun at points.

Overall, the premise and the father/daughter backstory in Last Night at Terrace Lanes are both solid. It’s the technical elements – direction, framing, editing, pacing and gore – that let the film down and prevent it from working as a cohesive whole.

2.5 out of 5 skulls

Joe is a TV addict with a background in Film Studies. He co-created TV/Film Fest blog QueerHorrorMovies and writes for Bloody Disgusting, Anatomy of a Scream, That Shelf, The Spool and Grim Magazine. He enjoys graphic novels, dark beer and plays multiple sports (adequately, never exceptionally). While he loves all horror, if given a choice, Joe always opts for slashers and creature features.

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‘The King Tide’: An Island Town Rots with Moral Decay in Canadian Folk Horror Fable [Review]

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Isla (Alix West Lefler) holds up a hand covered in bees

The opening scenes of director Christian Sparkes The King Tide set an ominous tone: a powerful storm takes down the power lines of a small island town as a pregnant woman loses her child while her dementia-suffering mother sits nearby. In the morning, as the town takes stock of the damage and the power is restored, a surprising discovery is found in an overturned boat in the harbour: a baby girl…with the ability to heal.

Writers Albert Shin and William Woods, working from a story by Kevin Coughlin and Ryan Grassby, treat the story as something of a morality tale mixed with a fable. Following the cold open, the action jumps ahead 10 years at a point when the unnamed island (the film was shot in Newfoundland, Canada) is thriving. The fishing is bountiful, the islanders are self-sufficient and have cut ties with the mainland, and most everyone is happy.

As characters are prone to saying, it’s all thanks to Isla (Alix West Lefler), the miracle baby who has grown up worshipped by the islanders. While Mayor Bobby Bentham (Clayne Crawford) and his wife Grace (Lara Jean Chorostecki) endeavor to raise Isla like any other little girl, the reality is that the island’s entire ecosystem revolves around her miraculous powers. It is only because of Isla that they survive; every aspect of their lives – from medicine to food – relies on her.

Each day the citizens line up for their allotted time with the young girl – be it to stave off breast cancer, like Charlotte (Kathryn Greenwood), or recover from another night of heavy drinking like former doctor, Beau (Aden Young). There’s even a predetermined schedule for when she will go out on the boats and use her power to lure fish into the nets.

Bobby (Clayne Crawford) watches adopted daughter Isla (Alix West Lefler) write in candlelight

One fateful day, Bobby succumbs to peer pressure and alters Isla’s schedule at the last minute to accompany cod fishermen Marlon (Michael Greyeyes) and Dillon (Ryan McDonald). A childish game with fatal consequences is played, but with Isla indisposed, a young boy, who would have otherwise been fine, dies. And while the rest of the community grieves, it is Isla who is completely shaken and, unexpectedly, loses her powers.

Suddenly the entire balance of the island is thrown off. Folks like Grace’s mother, Faye (Frances Fisher), who relied on Isla to keep her dementia at bay, suddenly reckon with mortality, while the food security of the town is called into question. Faye’s late-night “support group” meetings take on an urgent and secretive tone and the townspeople claim ownership of Isla’s time despite Bobby and Beau’s protests that she needs rest to recover from her trauma.

Like the best thrillers, the politics and personalities within the community come into play as morals are compromised and the good of individuals vs the collective is played out in increasingly desperate situations. The King Tide excels because it is interested in exploring the competing motivations of the townspeople, while also resolutely refusing to paint anyone as inherently good or bad. These are desperate people, determined to remain independent and free from outside interference, while protecting their trapped-in-amber way of life.

Isla (Alix West Lefler) sits with her back to the camera in a doorway

These developments work because there’s a humanity to the characters and The King Tide wisely relies heavily on its deep bench castoff character actors to drive the conflict. Crawford is the de facto protagonist of the ensemble and he’s also the most straightforward character: Bobby is a good man and a loving father, but he’s no white knight. At several points in the film, his willingness to acquiesce to the demands of the community and retain his power causes events to spiral further out of control.

Even more fascinating are Grace and Faye, two commanding women whose capacity for maternal love is matched – or eclipsed – by their own self-interests. A mid-film discovery about Isla’s power reframes Grace’s priorities, ultimately pitting her against her husband. As a result, Grace is incredibly compelling and frustrating (in a good way) and Chorostecki, who has done great genre work on both Hannibal to Chucky, plays the moral ambiguity exactly right. Grace is a fascinating and flawed human character in a film filled with them.

The same goes for Fisher, who deftly balances Faye’s grandmotherly love for Isla with the needs of the community and, by extension, her own health demands. In the hands of a lesser performer, it would be easy to hate Faye for her actions, but Fisher’s performance perfectly captures the fierce determination and fear that drives the island’s matriarch.

Finally, there’s Aden Young, The King Tide’s secret weapon. The ten-year jump reveals that Beau has undergone the most significant transformation: while everyone else has benefitted from Isla’s powers, her presence has eliminated the need for a doctor. With the clinic effectively shuttered, Beau has become an alcoholic; a shell of his former self with no purpose.

Like Bobby, Beau is the easiest character to root for because of his selfless desire to protect Isla, but Young (renowned for his work with Crawford on Rectify) unlocks the character’s tragic pathos and, in the process, becomes the film’s emotional anchor.

Beau (Aden Young - L) stands in a room full of children's toys with Faye (Frances Fisher)

Framing the moral decline of the islanders and anticipating the unexpectedly devastating climax is the natural beauty of Newfoundland. As shot by cinematographer Mike McLaughlin, there’s a steely beauty to the geography, resplendent with rocky cliffs, pounding surf, and gusty bluffs that reinforce the islanders’ isolation.

There’s a fierce pride in their struggle to survive independently, evident in the simple lodgings and the antiquated alarm bell that is rung whenever fishing ships from the mainland stray too close. It’s a chilly, atmospheric calling card for one of the most picturesque provinces in Canada, but it is a perfect complement for the folk horror narrative.

Armed with serene, beautiful cinematography, murky moral developments, and a deep bench of talented character actors, The King Tide is a quiet gem that demands to be seen. It’s one of the year’s best genre films.

The King Tide is in theaters April 26, 2024.

4.5 skulls out of 5

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