Quench

Quench begins with an everyday sort of guy who has a best friend die suddenly, so he goes back to his hometown to visit a buddy from his high school days. His former classmate has changed into someone with jet black hair patterned after Billy Joe, the lead singer of Green Day. In fact, everybody other than the grieving lead looks like a pasty, goth castaway from Night of the Living Dead(apologies to George Romero).

He crashes with the vampire like dude and his girlfriend when things turn really weird with more anemic looking compatriots arriving and everyone is up for some sexual shenanigans. Are we having fun yet? The next chapter we see the really white people in robes, worshiping Satan; holy cow. The end can't come soon enough as Quench is a waste of time.

I've seen better acting in porn. In fact I've seen better plots in porn.

I can't find a single redeeming value in this movie. It was hands down the worst thing I've ever watched. How this atrocity of a film ever managed to get a rating above 2 I'm at a complete loss to explain. In fact it has completely removed any faith I might have had in a peer reviewed movie database.

I've you're thinking about watching it and you stumble upon this review. Do not walk. Run away from this movie. Go to Home Depot and buy a gallon of paint. You will get many more hours of enjoyment from watching that dry than this movie could ever hope to provide.

The amount of detail put into the scenes in this movie is great, but you can't make a movie out of that alone. The story and plot are simple enough to be summed up in a couple lines. The actors/actresses are, at best, average.

I found myself too impatient wanting to get to the end sooner. The filler and dialog feel extremely long winded. There's nothing wrong with the dialog - I wish they talked faster and also not move so slow.

There's a lot of quality in the movie: the artwork in the basement, the Gothic settings/themes, and the cinematography to name a few. The twist at the end was also very good.

If they squeezed the 90+ minute run time into a 60 minute time frame, I feel this would've been much more entertaining.

Quench is the latest endeavor from indie film maverick Zack Parker, who helmed the low-budget horror romp with a clever twist, Inexchange. And for a sophomore effort, I'm damned impressed.

The tale follows Derik (Bo Barrett), who's returned home after a decent hiatus in order to deal with some looming issues resulting from a recent personal tragedy. He looks up his old friend Jason (Ben Schmitt), in the hopes of finding both a place to crash and a soul to confide in. But Jason's changed since last they spoke – now a part of a very abnormal and rather foreboding "family" (a cult-like gathering that enjoys trading bodily fluids on an extreme level… crazysexygoth blood-drinking orgies). Derik is vicariously tossed into this new world as he tries to cope with his demons and accept the newfound affection of one of the family's young hipsters, Gina (Mia Moretti).

The production value is stellar, especially for a low-budget HD venture. The cinematography is deft, and refreshingly honed, unlike a lot of indie films that try to hide their lack of budget through camera-work that constantly shakes and weaves (an effect that often is arguably anything but intentional). Parker keeps his frame focused, unafraid to highlight the mise-en-scene he's so carefully littered throughout each scene. The score bears an intensely atmospheric vibe – ominous, ethereal and delightfully resonant.

The performances are generally solid. Schmitt proves effective as a sort of oil-and-water counterpart to Derik, and Moretti walks a somewhat shaky balance between heartfelt and hollow (for me, in some scenes she seemed spot-on while in others her delivery was rather stiff – a decent performance overall). The other notable role, Veronica, is played with impressive vigor by Samantha Eileen DeTurk. But the MVP award definitely goes to Barrett – his portrayal of Derik is all at once a wounded, intense, somber and pathetic visage of utter deconstruction.

The main draw of the film, which elevates this modern indie tragedy above its peers, is Parker's astute direction. His scene execution, narrative comprehension, and visual bravado show meticulous control. Parker crafts his tale with a profound ambiguity, offering a refreshingly unique perspective to what one would easily assume to be a strict horror binge. His style carries subtle nuances of Kubrick, Polanski and Lynch (with a dash of giallo), as he steadily and methodically builds his dramatic tension to somewhat of a low-level maelstrom.

Quench is a wake-up call to independent filmmakers – a force to be reckoned with and a true Midwestern masterpiece that can only make one clamor with anticipation to see what Parker might accomplish on his next filmic go-around. A cult smash in the making, it's aces all the way – definitely worth seeking out.

A supposed expose of Goth culture that exists--thrives--just below the radar in American culture, this indie fails miserably in its goal. The wooden performances on the part of all involved would not even suffice for a cheapie porn flick. Apparently shot in the rural Midwest, it purports to reveal the inner workings of a clan of young people brought together by a pair of adults who call themselves "mother and father," and lead their "children" to drink one another's blood in order to gain obedience within a secretive family. The word "bizarre" does not begin to do justice to this film; perhaps "awful," "god-awful," "terrible, "wretchedly acted," or just plain "wretched" would better describe this piece of horsepucky.