This movie subtly pulled me into its orbit.
Only now, a week later, does my affinity for this microbudget film fully manifest.
Shot in Michigan, this dark, gritty, slow-burning, two-hander, DIY, slacker-esque guerrilla film was written, directed, and acted in by Joshua Burge (Marty) and Joel Potrykus (Derrick). Do a little research on Joel P., and you'll see he's steadily carving out a name for himself among the indie ilk.
Essentially, the story follows two "good" friends, Derrick talks, Marty listens, as they embark on a journey to a predetermined place to carry out a pact they've made with each other involving a macabre act. I say "good" in quotes because ulterior motives may be at play.
Derrick doesn't exactly seem like the sharpest tool in the shed. But given the immensity of the moment and the enormity of the impending act, he may simply be out of sorts, mentally unwell, overwhelmed by stress, consumed by ticking tension and the weight of what lies ahead. Their grim task barrels toward them with seemingly no way to slow, halt, or escape it. If anything, it picks up steam the deeper they venture into the woods.
Or... maybe Derrick is just quirky and a bit slow on the uptake-a patsy, a pleaser, someone eager to call anyone a friend.
Let's address the elephant in the room: the hate for this film is palpable, off the charts. I was lucky. I went in blind, oblivious to reviews, criticisms, or the general audience reaction. Had I known, I likely would've avoided it. But I stumbled upon it on a torrent site and gave it a shot.
I get that this movie won't be everyone's cup of tea. But if you enjoy grim, dark, slow-to-develop comedy infused with a metal soundtrack (seriously, how did they secure rights to Metallica and Godsmack? That's a head-scratcher), and layered with a uniquely philosophical "what does it all mean?" approach, I think you'll be pleased.
To the haters: don't hate the project just because you hate the genre. If you must hate it, hate it based on its merits.
This is one of those films where the immediate impact isn't felt. But days later, you might find yourself suddenly immersed in a scene, ruminating on the plot's rarely discussed incident, the quiet catalyst behind the whole story. You start deconstructing seemingly meaningless dialogue, only to realize that not a sentence, or even a word, feels wasted or out of place. And just as that thought begins to fade, a subthought takes root.
Suddenly, I'm mulling over Derrick's home life, career, and hobbies, wondering if he even has any. In reflection, his endless chatter was mostly noise. He seldom spoke about anything with real substance. And yet, if you were attentive, there were furtive kernels of truth and accountability sprinkled throughout.
There were maybe two, possibly three moments when Joel (as Marty) broached the real reason behind their journey, the dark purpose of the pact. If memory serves, Marty never engaged, never responded, never even acknowledged the act they were about to commit.
After watching Vulcanizadora, I'm confident that it will all make more sense.
7.8/10.
