My article on the film, Arctic Void, entitled "Fear and Loathing in the Arctic", has just been published in There's Nothing Out There, edited by Sophie Essex for Black Shuck Books.
This anthology contains 17 passion pieces about films that explore the sensation of being lost. When I was made aware of the premise of this book I naturally began wondering whether to write for it and if so which movie I might select. Having recently watched Arctic Void I had become intrigued by its audacious premise and also the bleak and unforgiving setting. Whilst certainly not one of the best films I've ever seen, it's certainly one that dropped its hooks into me and had me considering it long after I had watched it, and the scenario seemed perfect for working into this book. I won't say much more to it than that, as the film is available to watch on a variety of platforms and of course I go into it in greater depth in the essay, so I suggest you simply buy the book.
As a taster, however, here is the opening:
Some movies linger for reasons that initially appear unfathomable but which gradually take on substance. They tend to be those which appear with little fanfare, are low budget, and which need to be inventive because the central idea is all that they have to play with. I’m thinking here of such films as The Borderlands (2013, Elliot Goldner) where the dialogue-focussed relationship between Deacon and Gray dominates the film and supplies tension, but the absolute terror comes from the realisation of what they are descending into beneath the church. I’m also thinking of Hellhole (2022, Bartosz M. Kowalski), a Polish film that literally turns the standard demon-summoning trope on its head. The images at the conclusion of both films play repeatedly in my mind - despite having only viewed them each once – in a self-perpetuating cycle. Not to mention the final scene in John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness (1987) where a glimpse of continuing evil has infused my dreams and frequently has me waking with a scream in my throat.
