Escaping the clutches of an evil backwoods’ cult, a young woman tries to start her life over by taking a job as a carer at a facility for adults with mental disabilities and special needs. Katie is a naturally empathic and thoughtful individual, and she soon wins over the trust of those in her care. Impressing her colleagues, she’s given a night-shift and responsibility for a small group of residents who need support to live independently. But Katie is increasingly haunted by terrifying flashbacks to the torments and horrors of her earlier life. Worse still, she comes to fear that the same dark and malevolent forces that she fled are now targeting her clients. Telling no-one, she makes a personal commitment to keep them safe regardless of the risks.
If this were a mainstream Hollywood movie, the beats of the plot would play out pretty predictably. First up would be a series of false-alarm jump-scares, which paved the way for a whole sequence of worsening poltergeist incursions into the home. Eventually, after experts called in to help had fled in failure, a risk-it-all showdown would pit the film’s plucky heroine against the demonic entity. But Dementer is not only an indie production, it’s a film marked by understatement and a focus on the ordinary and the everyday. The story unfolds in a way that’s so oblique that viewers who’ve not read the plot synopsis might not connect Katie’s visions (or are they nightmares or portents or psychotic episodes) with her alarming decisions. Eschewing the obvious, Dementer relies on hints and suggestions and leaves the audience to join the dots if they can.
Katie Groshong gives a warm and sympathetic performance as the film’s lead (the script relies on actors’ real names throughout). Her unassuming, naturalistic style works well in a film in which many of the day-visitors and residents of the facility appear on-screen as themselves. The pivotal role of Stephanie, a young woman born with Down syndrome, is played by the real-life sister of writer-director Chad Crawford Kinkle.
The ethics of horror filmmaking (balancing the need to shock and scare against the ugliness of gratuitous exploitation) are often complex. The representation of disability in screen horror has, over the years, often failed to meet the most rudimentary of ethical standards. Kinkle’s approach to his subject matter here is sensitive and considered. He’s clearly aiming to improve the representation on screen of people that are routinely marginalised or ignored on film. Yet there must be some concern as to whether all of the adults appearing in his story were able to provide informed consent about their involvement. Given that Kinkle has decided to have those performers appear ‘as themselves’ in a work of fiction, that feels problematic.
The endgame of Dementer also trips up on the challenge of blending the mundane with the macabre; particularly when trying to bring resolution to matters that have, until that moment, been left so opaque. There’s no doubt that Kinkle is an intriguing filmmaker, with an unusual perspective and provocative storytelling skills – as his well-received 2013 feature Jug Face attests. But Dementer comes up short in trying to merge the realities of what, throughout the film, remain disconnected worlds.
Release Date: Out Now (US)
