Just what drives a man to uncover his darkest self? This age-old question carries a chilling implication, suggesting that we could unknowingly be the architects of our own downfall. Writer/director Ty Brueilly’s debut silent feature film, embarks on a wildly experimental journey through the world of the macabre and emerges with some rather offbeat ideas.
Austin Rich plays a man stuck in a life of mundane chores on his rural estate. As he roams the empty rooms and nearby woods, his days of shucking corn in his backyard gradually become overshadowed by an otherworldly presence – something sinister. Told with startling urgency and abstract presentation, Shucks is an unlikely entry into the pantheon of silent films, positioning itself somewhere between psychological thriller and all-out grindhouse horror.
Brueilly’s film undoubtedly boasts a distinctive aesthetic in a genre that heavily relies on stylistic choices. Grainy, monochromatic, shaky, and out-of-focus, Brueilly conjures some fascinating compositions that, at the very least, provide surface-level intrigue. One memorable image featuring the mysterious Mistress Manipulation (Megan Brueilly) standing behind an old sofa would sit comfortably on any die-hard horror fan’s wall as a poster. Then there’s another moment early on, where Rich’s character explores an attic space. Lights flicker in the triangular structure, illuminating the many beams supporting the roof, while sunlight barely makes it through the wooden slits. It’s a striking little sequence that hints at Brueilly’s ingenuity for crafting tension, but this momentum doesn’t quite carry over into the remaining half of the film, because once the novelty factor wears off, the repetitive nature of the editing and framing can become tedious.
However, visuals are only half the experience, which leaves it up to the sound design to fill in the blanks, and in Shucks’ case, that unfortunately fails at almost every possible turn. There is nothing immersive about its audio, whether it be droning tracks or ill-fitting, shuttered tension builders that don’t match the imagery. Credit where credit is due, this is very clearly done with immersion in mind, but when dialogue is non-existent and atmospheric noises are omitted, the soundtrack alone just isn’t enough to compensate.
But is it terrifying? Will those who are not familiar with genre tropes experience a sense of fear? Well, no, not quite. Shucks isn’t scary, and it doesn’t necessarily feel like Brueilly wanted his story to fit the mold of most horror films. Instead, you might find yourself walking away with a more thought-provoking takeaway. Yes, even under all the psychedelic abnormalities and odd narrative decisions, Shucks might hold a visual narrative core that satiates you conceptually, rather than practically.