The other day I stopped by my local pub to ready myself, via a couple beers, before embarking on the nightmare that is shopping at my local grocery store (there was someone wielding an axe in the doorway of said store the other week, just to give you a taste of this new level of shopping experience hell...).
I was sitting at the very edge of the long bar, going through email, when suddenly a young man saddled up to the bar stool next to me and asked if he could sit there while he waited for his drink. Sure, no problem, I said as I was filing away emails. I was already a little annoyed, however, because out of all the empty bar stools available he sat next to me.
Immediately he wanted to chat, I sighed, but was relived when he stated, excitedly, that he was waiting for his date to arrive. He then pointed to a seemingly random booth and stated "We're going to sit there."
Alarm bells began quietly chiming in my head but I shrugged them off , thinking that perhaps it was just his nerves about this first date that was making him appear a little "off".
But then his continued comments began ringing the bells louder.
Such as: I asked how long he's known his date. His response: "Not more than 4 weeks but more than 2 weeks." He asked if I was a "...nerd, or something?", to which I flatly replied Yes. He asked my name, I gave it, and then he proceeded to repeat it several times out loud. He asked me to stay and sit next to him (when I was getting up off the stool) until exactly 7 minutes before his date was to arrive (which was expected to be shortly). I reluctantly agreed and watched the clock closely.
Time arrived and he went to sit at his prespecified booth. I went back to my email and avoided eye contact. That is, until he suddenly shouted my name. I turned around and he was raising a glass to me, with an unsettling smile. I raised a glass back, turned around, and discreetly signaled to the bartenders that I wanted to close my tab.
20 minutes after the date was scheduled to arrive, still no one was occupying the opposite seat in his booth. I began feeling a little sorry for the guy, thinking he was stood up, when suddenly, I heard him bellowing with laughter and actively engaging with someone sitting opposite him. There was no one there. He was having a full on conversation with someone only he could see.
And yet, he still saw me when I took the last sip of my beer and began to make my way out. He caught me midway and begged me to stay and join him. I declined and insisted I had to go. He offered to buy my drinks and pleaded I stay. I still said no and extended my had to shake goodbye. He didn't take my hand but instead went in for a full on hug. The kind of hug that is a little too tight, a little too close, and got even tighter when you do the polite tap-the-back to say you're done.
And that's when I realized, with whatever episode that was going on in his head, he was desperate - DESPERATE - for human connection. To be seen and heard, to be recognized as existing.
By this time, the bartenders were keeping an exhausted eye on their newest patron, and I took the opportunity to slip out the door, unseen, when he went back to the booth and started shouting at the window to people walking down the sidewalk: "Hey, hey, hey! Are you a dinosaur?!"
Clearly the fella was going through *something*. It was a sad something.
I got home and thought about the experience quite a bit. Wondering if he recognizes the horror of being trapped in his head and own world. Wondering if he was having a mental breakdown. If his date was ever a real person or perhaps a bad breakup that pushed him over the edge into a delusional and surreal land. I thought most about how I don't think I've ever seen someone so desperate for companionship.
I decided to search for a film to watch that night that could possibly mirror my experience, or better capture what this young man could possibly be going through in his head. You know, a psychological horror.
Aside from werewolves, the monsters of the brain are the horror stories that frighten me the most.
I stumbled upon a menshealth.com article of the 34 best psychological thrillers, and while I've seen 98% of them, my eye caught:
I think what my eye caught most was this statement in the article:
"The movie, which stars Philip Seymour Hoffman as a theater director struggling through work and life, started of in off in theory when Sony talked with Spike Jonze and [Charlie] Kaufman about a horror movie, and he realized the themes that truly scared him: mortality, illness, relationship struggles, and loneliness. And the movie has droves of all that."
And my goodness, how this statement was spot-on in this film's description AND seemed a perfect reflection of my experience with the troubled young man encounter.
One reviewer described the film as pretentious. While yes I've seen pretentious films, and I can never keep a straight face when watching them, I wouldn't call it pretentious and this film is going to haunt me for a while. At points I was even pacing back and forth, the anxiety was so high.
The anxiety of relatability and understanding the plights of life but having difficulty finding the words to explain them. The aching and beautiful absurdity of existing, and the existential dread of loving life so much despite knowing it's going to kill you in the end.
This film is a slow burn mind trip. A mind bending and heart breaking tumble down the artist expression of relaying humdrum reality while also the thoughts, dreams, and wishes of a human life. Reality and time is distorted in this film. Much as our brains become unreliable narrators for our own lives as we continue them - as we watch them unfold before our eyes like a movie or a play.
This is certainly not a film for everyone, and plenty will argue this is not a horror film. But as with any 'drama' film that ends up on this blog - if it's here it gave me soul crushing nightmares.
In all, I suggest walking into this film a little blind. Or perhaps, take in consideration the personal experience I relayed above and place those characters in this movie.
Best watched during a small existential crisis and in a dirty, dingy, and neglected place. Pairs with beer and groceries that are still in their paper bag, and not being put away in the fridge or cupboard.
I rented this film from Amazon Prime or use Horror Habit's Find It! Watch It! links to see where else you can find this lump-in-the-throat feature.
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