The World of Myth Magazine

By now, if you've read any of my reviews or listened to me on any episodes of [Myth Bits], you ought to understand that horror is my jam. As October fast approached, I knew I had to perform my duty as the film reviewer for the Halloween issue to the feat of the magnitude of it being, again, the Halloween Issue! I scraped all corners of my mind, racking itself until it felt rather dry and husky of ideas, for films I thought worth covering. Do I revisit a classic? Do I touch on a forgotten gem? Do I submit to the popularity contest and find what's trending? Do I listen to the kids as they search the depths of the web finding the most calculatedly grisly, underrated, low-budgeted horror? Trust me, I thought about it all. Squid Games? Midnight Mass? Malignant? How should I seek to fill any readers with some new and interesting scrutinized insight? So, with my head bowed, I reluctantly took to a search engine and scoured the internets, hunting for something that'd catch my eye.

It didn't take long. The title instantaneously intrigued me; My Heart Can't Beat Unless You Tell It To. A mouthful, for sure, but definitely capable of piquing captivation. With a small cast, a director with very few credentials (Jonathon Cuuras), and a shocking 98% on Rotten Tomatoes with a mediocre 6.0/10 on IMdB, I had to know what the heck was going on with this film! Afterall, it stars Patrick Fugit (Almost Famous, Wristcutters: A Love Story), and I always enjoy his roles, so what'd I have to lose?

(QUICK NOTE: Like most of my reviews, I try to be mindful of spoilers unless I feel they're absolutely necessary for context regarding my opinion. That being said, I do have one major spoiler: I genuinely, thoroughly, thoughtfully enjoyed this film for a multitude of reasons. So, stepping forward, I may teeter into spoiler territory so proceed with caution!)

Without further ado, a quick synopsis of the film, lifted directly off its page on Youtube Movies reads as follows: "Dwight (Patrick Fugit) and his sister Jessie (Ingrid Sophie Schram) reach a crossroads over what to do about their younger brother Thomas' (Owen Campbell) mysterious illness. The increasingly dangerous task of keeping him alive weights heavy on sensitive Dwight, and as a fiercely private and close-knit family unit, Thomas and Jessie depend on him and the rituals they've learned in order to keep their secret. Dwight yearns for another life, but Jessie will stop at nothing to keep her family together."

The film takes no shortcuts in its approach in the opening minutes. We follow a transient as he rifles through a dumpster, retrieving a discarded baseball bat. A truck pulls forward, and silently, we cut to the transient in the cab of the truck beside Dwight. After a short exchange, the two head to an agreed upon destination. As we approach said destination, the transient says, "I thought you said this was a shelter…"

Dwight replies simply, "It is."

"Looks like a house," the transient man observes.

"It used to be," Dwight retorts quietly, almost ashamedly.

As the pair exit the truck, we see the man begin stepping toward the house, followed by Dwight hurrying on his tail with the baseball bat the man had earlier collected. With one fatal crack, Dwight forces the man down.

Inside the house, Dwight and his sister Jessie have lugged the man onto the kitchen table, where they lay him down and prepare him to be bled. Jessie situates a metal can under the table, ready for collection. Once the can's filled, Jessie puts the large tin on the counter, where we see a spout; twisting the spout, Jessie releases a crimson soup, meant to be served lukewarm, and dispels a serving into a bowl.

It's then we're introduced to Thomas, asleep and meek and sickly in his bed. When offered the blood, he eagerly drinks it up and seems to find peace after his meal. And this is where we step into troublesome territory; if I say too much, the film will undoubtedly be ruined. If I don't say enough, well, it'd sound like the rest is forgetful.

That scene takes place in the first five minutes of the film. From then on, we witness the dynamic of the family. Dwight, hesitant and not-entirely engaged in his familial role of feeding his little brother, oft finds himself in the company of Pam, a sex-worker, whose company outside the realm of physical interactions seems to bring comfort to Dwight's loneliness. Then there's Jessie, the protector of the brood, working as a waitress, who also seems to use her work to spot potential "catches" for Dwight to later seek and butcher. And Thomas, whose age is never revealed but we can surmise he's no older than 20 and no younger than 15. They live on their own, with no parents, in a house that feels so rural and isolated from the rest of society yet sits in a perfectly normal neighborhood. Thomas is eager to seek out relationships and friends, as he's homeschooled by Jessie, and can't leave the house, in particular during the daylight hours. He shares his wants with his siblings, only to be quickly shut down. "What about those kids?" he asks, hoping for the opportunity to play games with others his own age. Dwight, on the other hand, is barely holding on; while he dreams of his own escape, to be free from having to care for his brother under the clutch of his sister, he finds himself running monotonous tasks, like disposing of the bodies collected for their blood, selling their goods to local thrift stores, and again, occasionally visiting Pam.

Obviously we reach a point where it all comes to a head; Dwight is sick and frustrated of how many he has to kill, while Jessie seeks to maintain her powerful grasp on her brothers. Still desperate for friends, even Thomas attempts to reach out to the neighborhood kids.

The story is bleak. After the first scene, there's really no way to go but down. While we get glimpses of the joys of their relationships (Thomas learning to make paper planes with Dwight, Jessie playing games with Thomas on the instrumental organ, and Dwight finding moments of peace through music and comradery), we understand the playing field from the get-go.

The film entraps its viewers in the isolation its characters feel. The steady, still cameras stay poised from a distance for long periods of times, watching them go about their tasks. Whether it's slaying someone, doing laundry, pulling teeth, bathing, we're never inside with them. The tension from afar is enough to understand and empathize with the solitude each family-member feels, no matter how badly they want to disrupt that loneliness. Each scene encourages its viewers to keep their distance, sometimes watching from the car's rear window rather than inside the truck's cab, as though knowing this family is a black hole of death, but you can't help but let the chills linger as you watch Thomas stare longingly or questioningly toward his brother and sister for answers or some semblance of joy. The skilled technique of the camera angles does such a glorious job of dictating how we're meant to feel as we see this trio embark on the grisly happenings surrounding them, and it's refreshing. The distance is uncomfortable from the opening scene until its last.

More unnerving is the sound design. The film does not seek to fill silence with anything unnecessary. There isn't much of a score, excluding subtle points that don't feel like any sort of narration, but a seamless blend into the escalation of events. We hear the quaintness of everyday sounds: clothes being folded, an acoustic guitar being tenderly plucked but never played, the hushed creaking of the old house as it settles, or the realistic sound of flesh on flesh as it collides in a fight. There are no flashy audio effects that seek to startle or engross you, but rather to remind you how undeniably normal this abnormal situation is, no matter how depraved it may feel. It always maintains the comfortable white noise of reality.

The cast is alarmingly stellar. While Patrick Fugit is a familiar face, the actors behind Jessie and Thomas, whose filmographies aren't much to write home about (though you may have seen Owen Campbell, who plays Thomas, in shows like The Americans or Boardwalk Empire), not only does their ambiguity serve to the unease of the story as it progresses, but they're phenomenal in their parts. The actress playing Jessie, Ingrid Sophie Schram, is talented in stirring something in your gut with her wide-eyed stares and quiet voice that never wavers, but always demands. One scene that comes to mind regarding Patrick Fugit genuinely made my arms crawl with gooseflesh; in the midst of a breakdown, he proceeds to sing a song on a karaoke machine purchased for the holidays.

Again, I hate being so vague with this story because it truly is such a breath of fresh air. While some of these tricks seem to be making their way to popularity in films today, there's nothing that feels gimmicky about the approach. There are hardly any facts administered for our informational usage throughout. We don't fully understand what ails Thomas, though specific events lead us to comprehend he does suffer the maladies of mythological vampirism. We don't know their ages, where they live, or anything beyond the mundane and simplicity of the one facet that brings them all together: keep Thomas alive by whatever means necessary.

It brings forth to mind movies like Goodnight Mommy from Austria or Sweden's Let the Right One In in its tact and effort to dictate the tone in such specific manners (silence, camera shots and angles, subtle scores, etc); however, it's an interesting film that ultimately feels unlike all other films. I wouldn't call it scary, but it's unnerving in rewarding ways. You can't help but think back on it at a later point, imagining what could have or might have been for these characters had circumstances been altered or shifted.

It's also a unique take on vampirism. It's not a new concept to address the idea that vampires don't actually want to be what they are. One could even compare Jessie, although she doesn't share any vampiric qualities like her brother, to a character like Lestat in the most simplest of ways of how he seeks to control Louis (obviously also eradicating any homo-eroticism from the familial dynamic) with the likes of Claudia. The story of My Heart Can't Beat Unless You Tell It To does a superb job of broaching the idea of the non-romanticized realities of vampirism.

It's such an interesting story with a stellar cast and a voice that is very smart in its method and how it wants you, the viewer, to witness everything from the minute it begins. I can see why audiences are divided across ratings, though. You can't call it horror, but it also only barely brushes into suspense. I cannot recommend it enough should you crave something different from flashy slashers or period-set horror lore. It's just a freaking terrific film. Even my teenaged nephew sat still for the whole thing, not even picking up his phone, and had to mark it at the top of his list of favorite films (a whole feat in itself if you don't believe me!).

Absolutely, in my opinion, a strong 5 out of 5 stars.

My Heart Can't Beat Unless You Tell It To is available to rent or buy across most streaming platforms and it's so worth the five bucks!