FILM FRENZY

Isabella Gómez in The Mannequin (Photos: JackRabbit Media)

By Matt Brunson

THE MANNEQUIN
★★½ (out of four)
DIRECTED BY John Berardo
STARS Isabella Gómez, Lindsay LaVanchy

Given a countenance that strikes many as creepy, it’s surprising there aren’t many movies about malevolent mannequins. When it comes to motionless figures with marble-dead eyes and mischievous-looking mouths, there have been several films about wicked wax figures and even some about villainous ventriloquist dummies. But when the most famous movie mannequin was played by Kim Cattrall in a dopey ‘80s romcom (1987’s Mannequin, of course), it’s clear that this sub-sub-sub-subgenre (give or take a sub) is clearly underrepresented.

That makes The Mannequin a welcome addition to the game. Even though it fades a bit in the home stretch, it’s a stylishly directed terror tale populated by distinctive and interesting individuals, a major plus in a field in which many characters are written as little more than cinematic chum for the psycho killer du jour.

The prologue, filmed in crisp black-and-white but with occasional dollops of blood-red in the Sin City style, takes place decades earlier (the 1940s, most likely) and introduces Jack Bernard (Jack Sochet), a Los Angeles fashion photographer who murders models in the confines of his warehouse studio and then uses their various body parts to construct his own warped version of a mannequin. Cut to the present day (and to color), and that same building has just been rented to Sofia Rojas (Gabriella Rivera), an aspiring fashion designer who loves the space but wonders why a previous resident left behind a mannequin. Sofia is almost immediately murdered by something sinister that resides in the structure — the cops rule it a suicide, but her sister Liana (Isabella Gómez) thinks that’s absurd, as Sofia was full of life and looking forward to making her mark in the fashion industry.

After spending a year abroad presumably wallowing in grief, Liana returns to L.A. and decides to move into the loft space where her sister was killed. Her behavior isn’t always clear to her best buddies Hazel (Lindsay LaVanchy) and Nadine (Shireen Lai), but they’re there to support her — or at least until the demonic entities patrolling the studio drive a wedge into their friendship in unusual ways. The situation soon requires Liana’s ex-boyfriend Peter (Maxwell Hamilton), a doofus whose blog focuses on the supernatural, to arrive on the scene to perform a Father Merrin.

The supernatural shenanigans ultimately prove to be too much, with the story making room for an all-seeing mannequin, a vintage serial killer, possessed humans, and body-horror ghouls. But the introduction of so many elements pulls the story in different and finally confusing directions. Is the mannequin now possessed by the serial killer or by one victim or by all his victims? Why do these past victims, all innocent women, seem to be hurting the heroines rather than helping them? And while it’s easy to guess that a minor supporting character will somehow figure in the finale, how does his function do anything but cloud the ethereal events even more?

While a little more clarity would have been appreciated, these narrative flaws in no way diminish the other aspects of the production. Berardo carefully controls the tension throughout, not only in that dynamic opening but also whenever anyone is confronted by something unexplainable. The building itself is imaginatively brought to life (so to speak), with production designer Emily Peters deserving kudos for her richly detailed work.

Best of all is Berardo’s creation of the central characters. The troubled but resourceful heroine; a friend who’s logical to a fault; another who’s kooky and bubbly; a socially awkward guy — that description makes Liana, Nadine, Hazel, and Peter sound like the sort of cardboard characters who can be found in any slasher flick anytime anywhere. But Berardo and his players provide these people with so much personality that not once do they ever feel like stereotypes. The bickering between the friends, the give-and-take talks between Liana and her sibling, the uncomfortable encounters between Liana and Peter — Berardo’s dialogue and the actors’ own instinctive choices combine to make these folks believable, interesting, and worthy of our concern.