Love is scary. So goes the tagline to this brutal backwoods horror film by director Craig Oullette. Even scarier, it turns out, are those who would stick their oar into your relationship, making what should have been a sweet and tender romance into something out of a ’70s Tobe Hooper picture.
Rocker Dani Dupree (Kelsey Christian) is on the road when she meets cute Kaitlin (Bonnie Jean Tyler, rocking the Marilyn Burns look). Fireworks fly as the pair flirt over a free cup of coffee, and Dani can’t resist asking Kaitlyn to drop everything and join her in a grand American road trip. Packing up and running away from her abusive man (who, needless to say, is named Darrel), Kaitlin is happy to oblige. Unfortunately, love’s young dream turns into a nightmare when the pair are caught with their pants down by a family of backwater (and backward) locals.
Waking chained, gagged and chastity-belted in the Robinson household, Dani and Kaitlin suddenly find their tentative romance severely tested – not least by mask-wearing, chain-wielding weirdo Virgil (Michael Gmur), who is set on making one of the women his bride.
Combining Black Mirror’s San Junipero with The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Ouellette and co-writer Neal McLaughlin offer a bold new take on the hillbilly horror film. Much will feel familiar, but the genuinely affecting romance at its heart sets it apart – and both leading ladies deliver powerhouse performances in the face of astonishing amounts of abuse. The Robinson family aren’t particularly original additions to the canon, but Lilly and Rubin (Maria Olsen and Bill Hengstenberg) are effective monsters, played in a way that makes them fun to hate.
While its themes aren’t for the faint of heart, nor is the film salacious in its depiction of the women’s captivity or the torment suffered. The film’s strongest suit is its sensitivity to Dani and Kaitlin’s plight – and what a plight it is. Many have paid homage to Tobe Hooper and his iconic family dinner over the years, but few have brought this level of sphincter-tightening trauma to the table. Love, as they say, hurts, and Straight on Till Morning makes its lovers hurt a lot.
This stomach-churning violence (just the sound of bacon fat will send shivers down the spine!) is in stark contrast to the crisp cinematography of the film’s opening sequence and the fist-thumping soundtrack and score which plays through the first half. Such depth of beauty remains even as the film descends into total darkness, finding notes of levity and warmth amid the otherwise gruelling terror on display.
Love, as the other adage goes, conquers all. Whether that’s really true remains to be seen, but Straight on Till Morning depicts the battle at its bloodiest and most passionately fought.
STRAIGHT ON TILL MORNING played at Panic Fest 2025.
