Chillin’ and Waitin’ on a Scare or: The Thaw and The Wait
Has your life ever felt like it was falling apart? As if every single thing that could go wrong, went wrong? At the moment, it’s a terrible feeling. But to see bad things continuously happen to someone else? Especially when you can hardly do anything to help, that can be wrenching. The last film I was able to catch at Fantastic Fest 2023, F. Javier Gutierrez’s The Wait, looks to capture this feeling of helplessness at the powers beyond us going out of its way to make everything terrible.
But first, a slight interlude touching on a short film that screened before The Wait. Co-directors and writers, Sean Temple and Sarah Wisner, introduced Vermont folklore-inspired short, “The Thaw,” to the audience giving their thanks to everyone who helped and discussing the challenges of filming their work in the middle of winter in Vermont. Props to them for digging in for authenticity. As for the short, it’s a nice quick bite of snowy spookiness.
“The Thaw” follows a family preparing for the upcoming frost in 19th century Vermont, however, this family has an inventive way of making sure they survive the unrelenting weather. It involves deep sleep induced by some home cooking and burials, with one family member, Ruth (Emily Bennett), staying awake to watch the other two, Alma and Timothy (Toby Poser and Jeffrey Grover, respectively), as they chill in their homemade coffins. Of course, things don’t go according to plan (a lesson of the movie is to always follow recipes to a tee) resulting in hungry people doing violent things. An exercise in buildup, “The Thaw” gets a big boost from its setting and Demi Waldron’s adept camerawork that captures the hostile shadows and blinding white snow in stark black and white.
Immediately following this short was Guttierez’s newest feature film. Before it screened, the director and writer noted that The Wait had some elements of his own childhood—just without the more “fucked up parts.” What followed that intro was a film that looks good but ultimately lacks a lot of the personal elements that Guttierez slightly noted in his introduction.
Taking place on a large property somewhere in Spain in the 70s, we open with Eladio (Victor Clavijo) agreeing to work the land owned by Don Francisco (Pedro Casablanc). Told the job will be very intensive, Eladio shakes hands and begins his and his family’s journey down a dark and tragedy-filled road. The main quirk with The Wait is that it’s a story told in such a way that you never really feel it shift. Certainly, big events happen to Eladio and his family as they begin their care for the land they’ve been tasked with tending to, but whether due to the script or the performances, these moments merely come and go. On paper, the action is pretty dark, but it feels like Guttierez doesn’t dwell in their consequences enough—and more importantly, on how it affects Eladio and the people around him. Sure, Clavijo can put up a good “I’m shocked and sad” face, but that seems to be the only emotion the actor is allowed to present.
More peculiar is the feeling that The Wait, well, waits around a lot before it reaches a third act that finally decides to get interesting. Once Eladio is besieged by a few tragedies here and there, Guttierez leaves his character stranded in a land that’s now devoid of life or interaction. From there, we see a bunch of Clavijo walking around his house at night, seeing something creepy, making a “that’s kind of creepy” reaction, and then rinse and repeat until it gets to its final act. Of course, by the time you hope the film digs into its final reveals, the film ends with an ending that’s dark in its hopelessness, sure, but also a bit rushed.
It's a bit of a shame because the setting Guttierez works in is certainly unique. Set in the open hills of Spain, The Wait and cinematographer Miguel Angel Mora manage to make pretty scenic views into something claustrophobic and loaded with danger. However, Guttierez still doesn’t really make the most of the location and its history, which would’ve been nice to see more of as we’re dealing with the power imbalances of those who own and those who are owned. Again, it all starts to get interesting once the reveal of what’s going on around Eladio is revealed, but it’s too little too late.
Writer’s note: Well, folks, it’s that time. Time to dim the lights, lock the doors, and wave goodbye to this writer’s time at Fantastic Fest 2023. It was a marvelous time full of early mornings, long nights, and just a smidge of sleep. All of these things, however, are much better when you add movies to the equation. While my time only allowed me to cover the first three days of the fest, Hyperreal Film Club is thankfully filled to the brim with a bevy of writers whose talents far surpass my own in that whole thing called “writing.” So even if I won’t be able to cover everyday, you bet your sweet behind that all the other writers have been putting in work to keep the HFC coverage going strong! As always, a big thank you to everyone at HFC (the writers, the editors, the creators, everyone’s pets, etc.) and I hope you’ve enjoyed my ramblings on just a few of the unique, violent, and fun selections offered at this year’s Fantastic Fest. I hope to be back here next year to get some more hot takes out into the world.
Hailing from Dallas, Texas, Justin Norris lives and breathes for one thing: movies. When not constantly telling people he’s “working” on a script, film review, or novel, he’s actually really trying to work on those things, guys, just trust him! Anyway, he’s also into casual reading, being an intense New York Jets fan, playing pickup basketball, and of course, catching a flick at the local theater.
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