Writer/Director Daniel Kokotajlo adheres to classic folk horror convention with Starve Acre, based on the book by Andrew Michael Hurly. It’s not just the 1970s rural setting or spiritual locals that call to mind foundational films like The Wicker Man but the methodical unfurling of its folklore and escalating horror. It makes for a stunning throwback feature grounded by two compelling leads but one too narratively and thematically sparse to make much of an impact.
Starve Acre introduces Richard (Matt Smith, His House), an archeologist who’s recently moved his wife Juliette (Morfydd Clark, Saint Maud) and son Owen (Arthur Shaw) to his childhood home in the bucolic British countryside for work. Juliette, unaware that Richard’s memories of the home aren’t happy ones, feels that the move will be good for young Owen. Never mind that Richard spends most of his waking hours obsessing over his late father’s artifacts and collections, all related to the folkloric Jack Grey and the ancient tree in their backyard. It’s clear that Richard’s work is affecting his small family unit; the film opens with a grisly scene of animal cruelty inflicted by Owen.
Then tragedy strikes, fully awakening the dormant evil lurking on their lonely stretch of land.
It’s grief that drives Starve Acre, with Richard and Juliette ignoring any ominous signs or ill omens as they struggle to cope with the aftermath. Like the fable of the frog unaware that it’s being slowly boiled alive, Juliette and Richard become too caught up in the sorrow and fractured relationship to notice that perhaps Jack Grey may be more than just Owen’s imagination. Like the ill-fated parents in Don’t Look Now, this is a couple caught so deep in the throes of loss and anguish that it reshapes their relationships and eventually their identity as reality erodes around them.
Kokotajlo maintains a dread-soaked atmosphere throughout that matches the ’70s-style camera grain and Matthew Herbert’s dissonant score, even when most of the horror is solely psychological. Luckily, that changes as the film picks up speed in the back half. The discovery of old hare bones leads to some spectacular effects work, giving a more tactile focus to the horror that continues to ramp up to a fitting finale. Jack Grey becomes a more palpable presence through a few supernatural encounters and one menacing rabbit.
Yet, there’s a hollowness to the horror. Slick style and production value may lend vibrant style, but there’s not much there to the hare’s presence beyond superficial symbolism. Kokotajlo plays the horror too cryptically to keep Richard and Juliette in the dark, but it doesn’t leave much for the audience to grab ahold of either.
Smith and Clark bring depth to their characters, ensuring that Richard and Juliette feel like a real family with lived-in history. It’s largely through their arcs, wildly swinging from tender parents to full-blown psychosis and back, that keep viewers on the hook in Starve Acre, even when their fates feel predetermined by the films that influenced this one. Kokotajlo crafts a moody, somber, and extremely stylish piece of folk horror with fantastic practical and digital effects. It’s anchored by two nuanced performances. But the filmmaker is too beholden to folk horror classics and vague storytelling that it creates an emotional distance, unhelped by the overfamiliarity of trauma horror. It’s ultimately too restrained and too sparse to linger in memory.
Starve Acre releases in theaters and VOD on July 26, 2024.
