A Desert Review
Joshua Erkman’s mesmeric road flick A Desert shifts genres and gears to explore Southwestern America’s imposing terrain, abandoned structures, and lurking evil.
A photographer in crisis, Alex takes off on a trip with his trusty 8 x 10 camera to rekindle his ailing career. However, rather than rediscover his artistic mojo, he encounters a degenerate couple claiming to be syblings and fucks himself up with a moonshine-fueled threeway. Protected by the mercy of alcohol induced memory gaps, Alex remains intent on finding unique locations and takes risks into the unknown that will drag others into the orbit of his brooding desert nightmare with shocking implications.
Director and co-writer Joshua Erkman’s award-winning neo-noir bristles with danger tourism as it weaves its morality tale of self-indulgent naivety, cruel opportunism, and barbaric voyeurism. Erkman is a keen photographer, and A Desert‘s ethos is firmly fixed in that artistic sphere. The script germinated partly from the locations he scouted, giving his film an organic freedom that naturalises and signposts the impending horrors.
Precisely constructed and meticulously colourised, it’s an effortless example of how visuals can dictate our emotions and stimulate curiosity. Our eyes are encouraged to linger on beautifully composed scenes, mimicking the photographic medium and echoing the long exposure times of Alex’s archaic camera. The film’s aspect ratio aligns with our protagonist’s 8 x 10 relic, enhancing the connection and creating a timeless aura. This languid atmosphere never drags, thanks to the visual harmony achieved through recurring traits of balance and symmetry. This obsessive attention to stasis and static images builds a hypnotic playing field on which to launch kinetic curveballs through the arid desert air. When the film veers off the dusty track, it’s all the more horrifying and fucking brutal for the craftmanship that proceeds it.
When the violence does kick off, save for one outrageously graphic death, we witness it on blood-streaked security consoles instead of in lurid detail. Once again, the visual theme is bolstered, but the film also asks us to question our relationship with screen carnage. The seedy couple Alex meets may be the catalyst for his downfall, but they also serve as a counterpoint to the film’s central fixation with natural starkness and inanimate structures. Alex has a moment of self-reflection and laments his withdrawal from humans as artistic subjects. However, he has picked the wrong place to start with Renny and Susie Q.
While Ashley Smith radiates damage and desperation as the sexually manipulative Susie, Zachary Ray Sherman’s unhinged Renny hijacks the show as an egotistical jackal gnawing on the exposed ribs of human frailty. This astonishing turn sneers in the face of exposition and squeezes charisma from repulsion. We are never quite sure who Renny is, but we are no less convinced of his capacity for evil.
As A Desert reaches its messy end, we are presented with an ambiguous, low-key conclusion that will please rabbit hole dwellers. It reprises the film’s agenda of decaying America with quiet eeriness, suggesting the nation’s moral framework is crumbling in syncronicity.
★★★★
In US cinemas May 2nd / David Yow, Kai Lennox, Sarah Lind, Zachary Ray Sherman, Ashley B. Smith, Rob Zabrecky / Dir: Joshua Erkman / Dark Sky Films / 18
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