V/H/S/Beyond streams on Shudder beginning October 4. This review is based on a screening at Fantastic Fest 2024.
As the V/H/S franchise expands under Shudder’s banner, the quality of its miniature found-footage shockers continues to reach new heights. The same goes for the characters of V/H/S/Beyond: The seventh film in the horror-anthology series keeps things fresh by connecting each of its segments with a science fiction theme, bringing spaceships and aliens (among other genre-appropriate threats) into the mix. More importantly, this is the most consistent and polished V/H/S installment to date, representing one giant leap from the solid steps forward of period-piece predecessors V/H/S/99 and V/H/S/85. The energetic compilation starts with a bang that resounds through the pacing, sequencing, and momentum of the remaining chapters. There’s room for debate over which is the best, but unlike other years, there’s no glaringly weak link.
Jordan Downey kicks things off with “Stork,” a monster hunt with heavy [REC] and Resident Evil influences. It’s my favorite segment of the bunch, following a secretive police outfit dubbed W.A.R.D.E.N as they infiltrate a hideout filled with creatures from beyond. Downey’s masterful command of small budgets (as previously seen in 2018’s The Head Hunter and 2008’s ThanksKilling) makes for an exhilarating siege in which we watch agents blast their way through waves of enemies from the perspective of cameras mounted to their helmets. It has the feel of a cinematic video game (that’s a compliment) and the boot-stomping gore and Majini-like alien foes are brought to life through some unsettling special effects. Downey starts V/H/S/Beyond by kicking the door in, and while nothing that follows “Stork” matches its welcoming adrenaline rush, that’s never really an issue.
Virat Pal follows with “Dream Girl,” an AI-gone-rogue nightmare about two paparazzi facing insane consequences after trying to snap dressing-room candids of Bollywood superstar Tara (Namrata Sheth). Sheth shines in the role, introduced during a smoldering musical number where she sings about being a goddess. Pal’s inclusion of traditional Bollywood choreography and cinematography elevates his segment above V/H/S’ usual standards, almost like we’ve temporarily wandered away from the franchise – before we’re brought back to the fundamentals when body parts start flying around and a film set is plunged into chaos. “Dream Girl” levels harsh commentary against parasitic photographers and our desires to command artificial intelligence, but not without buckets of gore – the V/H/S way.
Next, Justin Martinez stages a mid-air collision between a 30th-birthday skydiving trip and a UFO in “Live and Let Dive.” The thrill of freefalling is mixed with an alien-attack sequence before the action crashes into an orange grove, where the surviving divers flee from their extraterrestrial pursuer. Martinez orchestrates magnificent kills as characters are maimed and decapitated while plummeting toward the ground – and that’s before we get a glimpse of his Death Angel-meets-Splice invader. “Live and Let Dive” epitomizes hold-your-breath filmmaking with the way it blazes through frantic action. Most impressive of all is Martinez’s filming of the group’s downward plunge. If you can stomach heights, you’ll be howling with glee and clutching the nearest armrest.
V/H/S/Beyond’s strangest concoction is Christian and Justin Long’s “Fur Babies,” which feels influenced by the latter’s performance in Kevin Smith’s underrated horror-comedy Tusk. Animal-rights activists plot to infiltrate the “Doggy Dream Home,” a one-stop shop for canine daycare, grooming, and training. We meet the proprietor, lonely pet lady Becky Baxter (Libby Letlow), in a YouTube advertisement, where Letlow plasters a fake smile on the face of her chipper dog mama’s not-all-there character. Afterward, two protesters smuggle a hidden camera into the Dream Home, and the Longs unleash an avalanche of uncanny weirdness. Becky’s also a taxidermist, you see, and her hobby plays into the deranged surgeries and four-legged fantasies she carries out at her work-from-home business – all presented in a hilariously unhinged fashion that would be reminiscent of Michael Parks hacking Justin Long into a human/walrus hybrid even if Long weren’t behind the camera. Apparently, the Long brothers and I have the same sense of humor, because I found “Fur Babies” hilarious – this one’s for the freakos out there.
Last on the agenda is Kate Siegel’s directorial debut, “Stowaway,” written by her husband Mike Flanagan. Alanah Pearce stars as Halle Halley, a mother desperate to document proof of extraterrestrial activity in the Mojave Desert. (Editor’s note: Pearce was an IGN staff member from 2015 to 2018. She did not work with the author of this review during her time at the site.) It’s the movie’s most straightforward segment, and wholly reliant on Pearce’s performance. Siegel embraces a headier sci-fi angle that slowly ushers us out of V/H/S/Beyond, staging a “be careful what you wish for” drama aboard a mysterious spacecraft. Flanagan’s story ponders unknowns rather than thrusting bloodthirsty antagonists upon Halle, while Siegel’s direction applies delicate coats of dread atop a stimulating examination of life on other planets. “Stowaway” almost feels out of place next to V/H/S/Beyond’s other, action-heavy segments. But its softer touch and more traditional take on sci-fi horror fits the closing-act role wonderfully.
There’s room for debate over which segment is the best, but unlike other years, there’s no glaringly weak link.
While wraparound segments have sometimes diminished the cohesiveness of past V/H/S movies, Jay Cheel’s “Abduction/Adduction” helps ground Beyond in the sci-fi mood. Two videos purporting to contain footage of real aliens are dissected in a faux-documentary whose talking heads include Corridor Digital, the real-life YouTubers behind popular VFX reaction videos. “Abduction/Adduction”’s methods are conversation-heavy with a brief payoff, but Cheel keeps us in the proper mindset as V/H/S/Beyond switches from one otherworldly terror to the next.
