VCR Czar Tape004 - Banshee Chapter: Hunter S. and Me Gettin' Hunted in The Dark

VCR Czar

Banshee Chapter is at its core, a decent indie romp through two known conspiracies with some cool ideas, a handful of jumpscares, a terrific performance by Ted Lavine (sadly without tucking) but ultimately held back by its budget.

The story follows investigative reporter Anne, after her friend James goes missing doing research for his novel about the psychedelic experiments carried out in the CIA’s MKUltra program. The story manages to weave this with another real life conspiracy, “Number Stations,” in a pretty ingenious way. After visiting James's cabin from which he disappeared, she finds evidence of how he was able to source the DMT-19 he was researching. After a tip from her editor, she seeks out the writer/psychonaut extraordinaire who sent the drug to James.

"Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?"

Ted Lavine absolutely steals this movie as the gun toting counter-cultural novelist Thomas Blackburn; a Hunter S. Thompson facsimile. He emulates his mannerisms, and a pretty decent script makes his lines some of the most memorable parts of this movie. Anne has to lie to get closer to Blackburn (he tied the last journalist who attempted to interview him to a chair and threw them in his pool), and he invites her to partake in taking DMT-19 at his home. She meets his friend Callie, who synthesized the compound at her home. Anne tries to toss out her dose in a sleight of hand, after which Blackburn reveals he was onto her initial ruse, and that he snuck her dose into her drink.

“Don’t dose unwilling participants. It’s a dick move.”

The three of them fall into the trip, as the ‘entities’ start appearing in the far corners of the home. This is where the movie really is lacking. Jumpscares in horror are cheap. The entities chasing the protagonists throughout the film are only on screen for very brief periods, and the “REEEE” of the score is cranked up to eleven for the usual startling effect. On a bigger budget, CGI or a skilled make-up tech would have made the otherworldliness of the creatures even scarier. I don’t want to spoil everything, but the movie loses some traction here. They continue through the night unraveling the mystery, punctuated by some great lines from Lavine.

“I’d KILL for some Neutrogena right now.”

I personally used to be of the camp “the world would be a much better place if everyone would just do psychedelics” but have graduated to the more responsible position that they aren’t for everyone. If you’re susceptible to psychosis, or have Schizoaffective disorder, bipolar I disorder, schizophrenia or the like, it’s probable psychedelics aren’t for you.

That being said, I feel most people's apprehension for these substances are the result of drug war propaganda and/or films and television. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is not a good template for the baseline psychedelic experience. I wish people would temper their apprehension a little bit. Thompson was a selfish and irresponsible human being, and if you’re not already prone to being irresponsible with alcohol, you’ll be just fine. The furthest out there I’ve ever been was a tumultuous afternoon that I was transmogrified into some kind of subterranean cephalopod, trapped in a briny deep with language and other complex thought-forms beyond the grasp of my oozing gelatinous squid brain. Fortunately, I’m a RESPONSIBLE psychonaut, and keep a copy of Brian Eno’s “Ambient 4: On Land” within grabbing distance to crawl up from that murky abyss. My consciousness wasn’t consumed by Cthulhu and neither will yours.

“Land ahoy!”

THAT being said, there is no DMT-like (or adrenochrome—that’s not a real drug, you goobers) substance that could induce the cosmically horrendous visions of this film. Certainly not one that turns the mind's eye into an antenna for the shadow realm.

Now THAT being said, I have no idea how there isn’t more speculative fiction on this subject. Sure, there are a few hallmark titles, Altered States being a classic, Beyond the Black Rainbow a more recent example, but seriously, aren’t the dimensions within the human mind not an expanse equal to the multiverse? I can’t imagine anything more terrifying than an endless assembly line of remakes and reboots, cashing in on ‘nostalgia’ as the world around us goes to shit while leaders and titans of industry fail to imagine a better tomorrow. Honestly, who wants to see Glen Powell’s capybara-ass face square off against Dynamo?

“Dynamo is eternal. He needs no revision.”