GET AWAY Review: Nick Frost's Homage to Folk Horror Gets Super Fun And Stabby

Richard and Susan Smith are dragging their kids, Sam and Jessie, to the Swedish island of Svalta, an isolated commune made up of eccentric characters set in their ways for hundreds of years. They have rented a B&B on the island, the paternal home of Mats, one of the more forward thinking members of the commune. 

 

The Smiths have come to witness Karantan, a two hundred year old festival celebrating the commune's revolt against British colonizers who had come to the island only to leave its residents hungry and destitute. It is on this anniversary which Susan has come to pay her respects to her ancestor, one of the British officers who committed the atrocities and was ultimately murdered by the locals. 

 

This does not sit well with the islanders, especially their matriarch, the old crone named Klara, who believes they are planning their last ever Karantan as leader of the commune. Perhaps these English will provide a level of authenticity that she has craved to have each year before now?

 

The unannounced arrival of Richard and his family is only outdone by the equally surprising arrival of a serial killer during the festival. This is the part where you run. 

 

You know those memes where they make a comment that punctuation matters? “Lets eat grandma” versus “Lets eat, grandma”. In the case of Steffan Haars’ (Krazy House) folk horror slasher Get Away the space between the two words in the title kind of matters as well. 

 

 

Get Away, is ultimately a title with two meanings as it is a story split between genres. The story starts out as the latter definition, as the Smiths intended it to be when they set out on this trip; a weekend away in Sweden on a creepy island with locals who shun the outside world. It turns into the former with everyone running for their lives when the killer reveals themselves. 

 

Penned by its lead Nick Frost, Get Away starts with paying homage to the beloved British folk horror genre. Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man is of course the gold standard and somewhat the blueprint that Frost follows. The film has all the themes and imagery that horror fans have become used to, of outsiders showing up at isolated locales where they are not wanted. Traditions and ceremonies have deep meaning to the locals, complete with all the costumes, torches and drums you could shake a stick at. All pieces that come with the Folk Horror Starter Pack.  

 

The residents of the commune are a motley mix though there are a couple standouts. They are led by crone and matriarch Klara (Anitta Suikkari), who realizes this may be her last Karantan and wants to make it a festival to remember. Her demands for authenticity when recreating the celebration will go too far. Then there is Mats (Eero Milonoff), the especially creepy and questionable host of the Smiths. All of our suspicions are correct about this guy. 

 

Overall, the experience is largely unsettling for the Smiths yet they have that British stiff upper lip attitude, they will see the weekend out. One could not help but wonder why Frost had come charging out of the gates with such imagery and intensity. From the get go it is obvious that the locals do not like the Smiths and on their first night on the island the locals have gathered outside the house in full costume, with torches lit and drums banging in an evening ceremony. Folk horror usually takes its time, paces itself, not giving away too much at first in order to build a mystery. Make the sacrificial lambs feel at home first, before you slit their throats. 

 

But Frost has other plans, you see. He’s working towards that serial killer slant, getting ready with Haars to switch gears and get stabby. It’s a wild turn of events, one that we certainly were not expecting as it definitely caught us by surprise. To that point the art department had done a wonderful job with all the costumes and production design. They kindly stepped aside and let the FX department go nuts with blood and gore to close out the tale of the Smiths and the commune at Svalta.  

 

It’s a big swing in mood and tone and it pays off handsomely. The inclusion of a seminal masterpiece from the pioneers of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal is a master stroke and only adds to the fun. Frost and Haars take something uncertain, unnerving and unsettling - all the un’s - and turn into something super fun, and super stabby too. And we like super stabby around these parts. 

 

They’re respectful of the folk horror genre in ways that fans of the genre will find no fault. Our questions as to why they were going so hard and fast with it from the start were answered by the tip of a blade. Many blades in fact. So stabby, and still with room for a surprise or two by the end.