Movie Review: GUT

Snuff films have long since been an interesting piece of pop culture legend. There’s always that “is it real or is it fake” aspect that has been the basis of many a film, including 8MM and Videodrome, both of which combine an arthouse aesthetic with grindhouse violence. Gut is not one of those films.

The protagonist is Tom, a husband, father, and provider. He is the apple of his wife’s eye and his daughter loves to play and watch Pixar movies with her daddy, and yet he’s not happy. Why isn’t Tom happy? I couldn’t tell ya. His wife is constantly affectionate and his home life looks great. He works a boring, nondescript office job, but at least he’s employed! He’s got a life I’d kill for! He’s at work most of the time and if he’s not there, he’s at lunch with his childhood friend Dan, who constantly complains that they never hang out anymore, despite the fact that their cubicles are right next to each other and eat lunch together every day.

One evening, Dan gets Tom away from his perfect life to just enjoy a horror flick like they did as teens. Except this is no ordinary horror flick, it’s a snuff film. This sparks something in Tom: Revulsion, Excitement, Fear. All of which happen in about five minutes and then he’s back to his same old angsty self again for the rest of the film.

The main problem is an almost an entire lack of tension. For a wannabe low budget horror flick, I’m never once concerned that anyone is in any real danger, and when one of the main characters is in real danger at the end, it feels inauthentic. That’s far from the only problem Gut has. The acting is lousy and the dialogue is forced. The dialogue between Tom and Dan is especially trite, they sound like two high school kids who’s sense of humor never grew up, constantly insulting each other with insults that would be more at home in a Call of Duty chat. For a film about snuff, there’s also next to no gore. We see the films as they watch them and the films aren’t that disturbing, they’re almost clinical. All they are are films of women being sliced open along the belly, like a surgical procedure. If they wanted us to be disgusted by these tapes, they could have given us something much more visceral, like in the far superior Cold in July. There’s also the predictable ending that, while upsetting, feels incredibly out of place. If you’re looking for praise, all I can say is that the experimental soundtrack did help elevate the tension, if only a little.