REVIEW: Model Hunger

- By Dave Dubrow

Low budget doesn’t have to mean low quality. A good screenplay, a compelling plot, or a fine performance can elevate even a micro-budgeted movie into art.

Unfortunately, few of those things are on display in scream queen Debbie Rochon’s directorial debut, Model Hunger, starring Lynn Lowry, Suzi Lorraine, and Tiffany Shepis. Muddy in theme, terrible in script, and inconsistent in performance, the movie failed to rise above the shoestring production quality.

Several times throughout the film the subjects were out of focus when they weren’t shown in extreme close-up, and everything on screen was imbued with a dreadful magenta filter that spoiled the copious gore, making the violence cartoonish rather than bloody. In addition, the combination of steady shots and shaky camera work was jarring; if everything’s shaky, it’s a style. If some things are and some aren’t, it’s a problem.

The story was familiar enough for horror fans: a troubled married couple moves into a new house, and the nice old neighbor lady is actually a cannibal who murders and eats young girls (and anyone else she can get her hands on). While this was supposed to be a comedy, of sorts, the main problem with the script was that it just wasn’t the least bit funny. Or perhaps it was; it’s hard to tell. For example, Ginny Reilly, the former-model-turned-cannibal, would occasionally launch into an internal rant about the evils of men preferring slender girls over plus-sized women in the modeling industry, as well as the evils of those slender girls being, well, slender. These rants were done entirely in voice-over, so while she smiled blandly at a potential victim, mouth closed, the viewer would hear the actress spitting out lines like, “They dream of shoving their pathetically lonely penises into your great southern twat!” It’s funny, but was it supposed to be? The rest of the movie was so earnest.

Every character save for two of the murder victims said “fuck.” A lot. This, combined with the seething hostility everyone seemed to have for everyone else (including - no, especially - the married couple), made it impossible to like or identify with anyone in the movie. Later attempts to make certain characters sympathetic through incomprehensible flashbacks, a dream-sequence, and a creepy-but-intended-to-be-kind gesture fell flat. When you’ve seen an old man jerking off to a TV show displaying an overweight, middle-aged transvestite dancing in lingerie, it’s difficult to envision him as anything other than a disgusting creep. When the dialogue didn’t lurch into clumsy plot exposition it fell into cliché, and the plot only moved forward because key characters behaved like complete idiots.

A particularly bizarre story element included a shopping network show called Suzi’s Secret, where a woman in a fat suit hawked fashion for plus-sized women, encouraging them to eat and eat while the aforementioned transvestite in lingerie cavorted on screen, gobbling junk food with the delicacy of a famished barnyard animal. The most popular show in town, there was not one character who didn’t watch Suzi’s Secret on a regular basis. So on one hand we have the film’s antagonist ranting about the evils of slender women in modeling, and on the other we have everyone’s favorite show selling clothing for overweight women. Is this a fat acceptance thing? If so, why pick such unsympathetic evangelists for it? Judging from their actions on film, aren’t we supposed to be disgusted by these people?

The scenes where Ginny tied up helpless people and tortured them were effective, at times. A lot of blood, a lot of screaming. I defy you not to be grossed out by the scene of Ginny mutilating a young woman and eating a tender scrap of flesh from her body while she shrieks in agony, for example. The flashback with the photographer was genuinely horrific: between his enormous, glistening cold sore and younger Ginny’s massive, purplish shave bumps, it was all I could do to keep my lunch down. Still, those scenes weren’t enough to carry the movie.

Nobody’s looking for perfection in any work of art, including indie horror, and judging a piece with that standard is foolish. Nevertheless, there were significant shortcomings to Model Hunger, ones that could and should have been addressed at some point during the production cycle.

Before you click away, thinking, “Well, he trashed it,” do me a favor. Watch this video review of the movie: he loved it. William Pattison dug it, too. Dread Central said it was “fun.” So it’s possible, even likely, that I’m totally full of it, that I didn’t understand what the filmmakers were trying to do, or that I missed key elements. Fair enough; I hate writing reviews like this, and I’d love to be proven wrong somehow. Model Hunger will be available from Amazon on July 12, 2016. Buy it, watch it, and let me know what I missed right here at The Slaughtered Bird.

Dave Dubrow