Resolution

Resolution is, for lack of a better term, a neolovecraftian film, relying more on personal conflict and atmosphere than on 'jump scares' or visual effects, developing an absorbing, character-driven pl... Resolution is, for lack of a better term, a neolovecraftian film, relying more on personal conflict and atmosphere than on 'jump scares' or visual effects, developing an absorbing, character-driven plot along the way. Inside a dilapidated house we witness the tug-of-war between Michael (Peter Cilella), who wants to 'save' drug addicted Chris (Vinny Curran), and Chris, who doesn't want to be saved and thinks, not without reason, that Michael’s motives are selfish. This is all very good stuff, even if Curran is too plump to be an addict, and what he undergoes isn't so much withdrawal as irritation at Michael. Outside the house, which Michael soon discovers is on a Native American reserve, there is quite a fauna of quirky characters who range from baffling but harmless to outwardly laughable but nonetheless dangerous. In the lovecraftian tradition, Michael is the level-headed hero, coming from an orderly and practical world, who inadvertently crosses an invisible border into a place where the abnormal and the subhuman are the norm rather than the exception. Michael finds strange documents in the land surrounding the house; texts, photos, and videos that recount ominous past events and contain foreboding omens for the near future. Directors Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson (who also wrote the screenplay) give the found footage technique one of the best uses I've ever seen, because here we actually see someone finding the footage and reacting to it, while we in turn react to his reaction. I find this a more effective approach than just showing us the supposed footage directly, which always seems incomplete by accident as opposed to by design. The problem with this film – and it’s a doozy if, like me, you set a lot of store by a movie’s aftertaste – is that the makers are more popish than the Pope; or, in this case, more lovecraftian than Lovecraft. HPL’s brand of cosmic indifferentism works better on paper than it does on the screen, because mood, after all, can only take you so far audio-visually – and the mood Resolution leaves you in is of the foul variety, thanks to the obligatory, anticlimactic, intelligence-insulting final shot suggesting that the evil will continue. I’m not saying a happy ending should have been in order, but I do wonder, is it too much to ask of a movie called Resolution to have a conclusion wherein the conflict is, you know, resolved? And the worst part is that this film already had a perfectly cathartic denouement before that last shot that is the equivalent of giving the audience a giant middle finger.