The Lost

Jack Ketchum's novel, itself inspired by a true story, provides the basis for this chilling look at the actions of a young sociopath, not giving a damn about anybody or anything, and capable of chilling acts of violence. One day, he murders two young women, and his two friends, despite their misgivings about his character, cover up for him. Cut to four years later, and he's still walking around free. Detectives know he's guilty, but can't prove it. It's only a matter of time until the unhinged young man will explode again, and when he believes the people in his life, including his new girlfriend, are all betraying him or letting him down, the stage is set for a bloody revenge.

This works more like a series of episodes for a while, rather than an ongoing story, and is deliberately paced and character driven. Writer / co-producer / director Chris Sivertson sometimes goes for stylistic flourishes, but more often than not handles the material in a straightforward manner. It manages to be subtly spooky and only towards the end does it really get intense; this final act is shocking in its brutality. There's a bit of titillation (breast shots and full fledged nudity) and a respectable amount of gore at the end. As the movie goes on, one feels more and more uncomfortable in the presence of such a smarmy psycho. Actor Marc Senter is compelling in the lead role of Ray Pye, playing him with an effective mixture of uneasy charm and genuine creepiness. His co-stars Shay Astar, Alex Frost, Megan Henning, and Robin Sydney are also good in their own way, and some excellent veterans - Michael Bowen, Ed Lauter, and Dee Wallace - provide some wonderful support. Lauter has one of his best roles in a while, but it's disappointing to see Wallace's participation basically limited to one big scene. Ruby Larocca and always delectable Misty Mundae play the murder victims in the opening sequence.

One may wish that the ending weren't as abrupt as it is (there's no epilogue of any kind), but all in all "The Lost" is fairly potent stuff that doesn't leave the viewer unaffected. Ketchum really is a master at telling these grim and gut wrenching horror stories.

Seven out of 10.

First off, some people just can't get into low-budget films. And I agree many are unwatchable. However I've also found some decent films among the crap. Bottom line, if you have a problem sitting through indie films. Then this movie probably won't change your mind. However if you're a fan of Jack Ketchum (who wrote the novel it was based on) then you'll probably enjoy it. It manages to stay pretty close to the book, other then the book being set in the late 60's. At first I thought this was going to be a problem, but as the movie goes on it kind of takes on a timeless feel. And being a low-budget movie, setting it in another era would have been too costly. The acting was pretty good for an indie, the actor who plays Ray Pye pretty much nailed the look and essence of the character.

I caught this movie at the Rue Morgue convention where there was a Q&A with Jack Ketchum afterwards. Which was pretty interesting, he explained how low-budget films allow the director to follow his sometimes grisly story lines more accurately. That's OK with me, I don't mind low-budget movies, especially when they're based on such powerful writing.

Finally, Horror gets some balls again. Horror should freak you out, make you cringe and leave you with a nasty taste in your mouth- which is what this film does. This film crosses the line of Horror though, it offers a main character that really captures your attention every time he is on the screen. Senter as Ray Pye is a break out actor in the making and at some points you actually feel for this freak and his dead end life, although most of the time you want him dead.

The supporting cast does a great job which makes this a character driven horror that is ugly and thought provoking. I wondered the whole movie when Ray would finally crack under the pressure and who was going to buy the farm. No FX or CGI needed.

Possible Spoilers!!-I attended a preview screening of "The Lost". Having read the book, as well as an account of the true story on which Jack Ketchum's tale is based, I had an idea of what to expect, however, I was unprepared for the integrity shown by the filmmakers in their unflinching look at narcissistic violence. The main character, Ray Pye (chillingly portrayed by Marc Senter) represents the childish nature of current American Pop Culture in which we have become so accustomed to instant gratification that, when we don't actually get what we want when we want it, the infant inside us can explode. And that indeed is the story of Ray Pye. "The Lost", for me, is a return to 1970's style film-making, ala "Taxi Driver" & "Straw Dogs". To call it simply a horror film is to sell it short. The writer/director Chris Sivertson has created a character driven story in which Pye's need for control is driven up a notch with the introduction of each new (independent) female character, women with their own problems, and so not as naive as the two "robots" Pye has controlled since high school. This loss of control, combined with the scrutiny of a dogged police detective, is what ultimately causes Pye's "makeup" to crack, if you will. What results is violent indeed, but shown with a realism much needed in this day and age of CGI "shock and awe" gore. And unlike some of the unnecessary cruelty depicted in movies like "Saw", scenes of torture shown seemingly for no other reason than to "top" the competition, the culmination of Pye's frustration has a very specific conclusion, and without trying to psychoanalyze too deeply, it is indeed symbolic that Pye's rage is infantile in nature. The ending of the film will cause many to gasp, but is in no way gratuitous. At any rate, it is not my intention to "review" the film, per se, although it is made with much technical skill and good knowledge of effective camera angles, dynamic sound effects and some very inventive "kinetic" editing sequences, giving the viewer an "adrenaline" rush, coming from fear, as if we are in the room with Pye and his victims. If you have read any of Ketchum's work (or are familiar with the true story of Charles Schmid) you will know going in that this film is no fairy tale. And yet, it is hoped by this film fanatic that "The Lost", BECAUSE of it's realism, and BECAUSE it depicts violence as it really is, neither glossed over nor unnecessarily gory, will find distribution to as many screens as possible, because believe it or not folks, there is an audience out there who remember the great independent filmmakers of the 1970s and have been wondering for a while when the next batch of Scorceses and Schraders were gonna come along. Coming from a totally original perspective, two of them are here now: Chris Sivertson and Lucky McKee. They have made an excellent character study here. With "The Lost", they have cast a steady gaze on the nature of violence, holding Ray Pye up in the mirror to show us the real reflection of what takes place when a culture of indulgence goes unchecked for too long. In this day and age of ho-hum mass murder and twenty-four hour turnaround "change the subject" news media, to make a film like "The Lost" takes courage and integrity. Sivertson and McKee have these qualities, as well as talent in spades. Let's give them the recognition they deserve!

The Lost starts like a fairy tale. Once upon a time there was a boy called Ray Pye. He put crushed beer cans in his boots to make himself look taller. We meet him with his two friends, Tim and Jennifer, in the campgrounds of a wood. Ray strolls towards a wooden toilet cubicle erected on the hill, the door opens, and a naked girl steps out, quickly apologising as she thought she and her friend were alone. The image is so startling that you know at once this will be no ordinary movie.

Ray has killed rabbits before and decides to kill the girl and her friend, to 'see what it feels like'. Tim and Jennifer, whom he dominates, are coerced into covering up. Four years later, Ray hasn't been caught, in spite of one cop who is determined to make him pay. Ray goes on to much nastier things.

If The Lost teeters on the edge of violence that is so extreme as to revolt most audiences, the question that will hover in the mind of many serious viewers will be whether the end is going to justify the content. Some will not stay that long - in the screening I went to, several people, after a section of intense and escalating violence, walked out at a point where a pregnant woman is stabbed in the back. You have to be able to stomach quite a lot, calmly to consider whether the film, in spite of this, has artistic merit. During the end credits, it says, "If you liked the movie, read the book. If you didn't like the movie, read the book." Ironically, many may not have stayed to this point.

While the film is not a masterpiece, I will argue that it does have considerable artistic merit, even if I feel slightly uncomfortable at disenchanted, gun-toting American teenagers watching it. It delivers both in style and in substance, and if censors want to intervene, that is maybe more a reflection on the people they think might be influenced by it than on its standing as new, invigorating and perfectly valid art-house cinema.

Firstly, the film gets a reaction. Not one of bored disgust - it provokes a gut-feeling, it makes the audience test and question its own tolerance levels. The acting is good all-round, but that of the lead character particularly memorable. His psychotic, drug-fuelled mannerisms stick in the brain like a traumatic encounter. The storyline and editing are stylish. Characters, almost in keeping with the once-upon-a-time introduction, have a two-dimensional quality, like those in fairy stories and we tend to see only traits that are essential to the plot. The characters' development does not go so far as being tongue in cheek or a caricature, but reaches an almost symbolic level where they become ciphers in a particularly challenging onslaught to the senses.

The cinematography and art direction is inventive. There will be switches to high grain film, or unnerving mixes of slow motion, missing frames and superimposed images. The bedrooms of Ray, and also Katherine, a lush that he falls in love with, use vivid reds and blacks to create a surreal effect, and props that include a statue of a black panther. Ray wears black eye make-up, throwing himself into a Bowie-esquire larger-than-life image to give himself an almost god-like appeal to the other, less dominant, teenagers. In contrast, when he finally comes clean about 'the worst thing he ever did', he is sitting dressed in black but on a pure white sofa and background. Katherine, who thinks at first she can 'handle' him, puffs languorously at a cigarette through red lips as Ray talks and she becomes sexually aroused.

Marc Senter's performance (as Ray) is like a turbine that drives the film ever faster forward. The potent soundtrack reflects a cocaine-frenzied adrenalin rush, and even the 'normal' characters offer only some queasy sense of relief. There is 60yr old Ed, for instance, who is in a relationship with teenager Sally; and Detective Charlie Schilling (Michael Bowen), who might seem crazy until you put him next to Ray. Unlike many films that try to capitalise on excessive violence, The Lost wins partly because it is not repetitive. There is nasty violence, quick violence, prolonged violence, mental torture with cruel and violent treatment, 'justified' violence and sick violence. Then there is even offhand violence - "I didn't like you anyway," says Ray as he aims and fires, killing someone with all the casual pride of a sharpshooter at a fairground. (In case you haven't guessed, there is quite a lot of violence!) Supporting scenes draw on popular subculture for realism, such as the rush to flush drugs (grass) down the toilet with limited success when the cops try to bust a party, or the 'friend' who tries to shave an unnoticeable amount of resin from Ray's cannabis delivery. Sensuous, opulent, and recognising few limits, The Lost strains at the sequins to be a cult nasty and succeeds. Even the sex scenes throw in a level of wit not found in the average shocker. "I'm sorry that was a little fast," says Ray after f*cking Katherine the first time. "I've had it faster," she retorts nonchalantly.

While featured songs such as "Drink, Fight, F*ck," might sum up the superficial ethos of the film, it rises well above the trailer-trash slasher that it could easily have become. More concise and elegant than Freeway, more intelligent and visceral than Natural Born Killers, demonstrating a considerable array of talent in its determination to shock that was so noticeably absent in The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael, less high-brow than Irreversible, and more hypnotic than American Psycho. The Lost, however repugnant many people will find it, lives up to its promise of being controversial and worthy of attention by all lovers of the genre.