REVIEW: Let Us Prey

In the opening scene of Let Us Prey, a breathtaking sequence of images succinctly evokes its theo-apocalyptic overtones. Similar to the stylings of a music video by Tool or Depeche Mode, the introduction culminates with a shot of a crow flying through a brooding sky. Cinematographer Piers McGrail is the major find here (unsurprisingly winning the prestigious Michael Dwyer Discovery award at the Dublin International Film Festival). His sterling work – already evident in the underrated horror The Canal – exudes a raw power, especially suited to the horror genre.

Director (Bill O’ Malley) and writer (David Cairns) do little to obscure their indebtedness to the mercurial, John Carpenter. They borrow heavily from The Prince of Darkness and Assault on Precinct 13; and that’s ok, as it’s rare such homage is paid to a semi-retirement master who’s left a void in the heart of many horror enthusiasts. Even the minimalist drone of the pulsating soundtrack is reminiscent of Carpenter’s film scores.

Early on, the plot introduces the protagonist, P.C. Rachel Heggie (Pollyanna McIntosh), witnessing a mystery man being run over. She reports to her police station with the hit-and-run juvenile. The ‘victim’, ‘6’, turns up at the station. It’s evident ‘6’ has an ability to look into the past of everyone in the station, serving as the plot device for opening up the story. As the night draws on, ‘6’s powers uncover why they’re all present on the night: no one is who they seem.

Once it settles in the bowels of the station, McGrail’s talents, sadly, are largely smothered. Instead the film relies on bland writing, typical of bog-standard b-movie horror. The characters are woefully undercooked, with the backstories of leads like Sergeant MacReady (another nod to Carpenter) feeling rushed and inchoate. Additionally, the banter between characters is telegraphed and wayward, too often cringe-worthy.

The film’s pacing is constipated, with its major reveal and resultant crisis held back for two-thirds of the film. Once the showdown finally arrives, it’s an underwhelming, abrupt skirmish, executed in a sloppy fashion. Aside from the very end, the major reveals don’t elicit any surprise because the exposition clumsily and repeatedly hints at them like a salacious uncle nudging you at barmaid cleavage.

Thematically, the film briskly touches on distrust and paranoia in our pastoral society (can police, teachers, doctors be trusted?); and the reactionary attitudes and brutality purportedly lurking at centre of the police force; but none of these themes are given any meaningful commentary, leaving the film bereft of any talking points. Let Us Prey ends with an interesting twist heavy on the theological overtones, but it’s not entirely clear what it all means. Have God and the Devil become one? Are they making a pact on the nature of an apocalypse?

Even McIntosh falls short as a ‘final girl’. She simply lacks the fire and enthusiasm of, say, a Rhona Mitra. As a hardcore Carpenter fan, it’ll be difficult to overlook this.