Head Count is a low key horror movie. Instead of hanging out with his friends on break, Ethan reluctantly visits his older brother at his trailer in Joshua Tree. A group of people around his age crosses their path, and Ethan unwittingly attracts the wrong attention thus putting them all in danger.
Head Count was entertaining, but while it had the potential to get and stay under your skin long after the movie ended, it never does because a certain je ne sais quoi is missing. As the story unfolds, it feels as if all the elements would come together then evoke a deeper, psychological meaning than the cover story. I was initially getting the same chills that I got when I watched It Follows, but it never delivered on its promise.
Even though Head Count’s characters are all young adults who drink and take drugs, I actually liked all of them instead of feeling annoyed. Their partying was not their defining characteristic. They were generally affable, awkward and not smooth, were not interchangeable, attractive but not in that polished actor way which would tip anyone off that they are not average people, had history, were not stupid, but also were not freakishly smart or prepared to handle anything. Many of them seemed like good friends to each other. I surprisingly really took to Camille and Nico—they are the kind of people who make everyone feel welcomed and are solid friends. Haley seemed lovely as if she was walking sunshine, and I would have definitely gotten to know her. Zoe was a little withdrawn, but basically cool, and anyone who takes photographs is probably at least slightly interesting. I would have avoided Max, but because I am a girl, maybe he would not have been a jerk to me, and we would have been siblings in suspicion. Also Max was at his most endearing when he was too scared to play it cool. Tori was hilarious and outgoing. Sam, Vanessa and Brian were too quiet to get a real read on. I did not understand why Vanessa implicitly cosigned Max’s behavior considering it was obviously in service to his relationship history so maybe I would have steered clear of her. She also consistently pushed back when anyone other than her precious boyfriend expressed suspicion.
Head Count’s atmosphere works because like Ethan, we are not as familiar with the group or the surroundings so there is an innate level of discomfort and distrust. The narrative is fresher because it is not the typical group of friends in danger, but spending more time getting to know the characters may have made the story stronger. This choice helps us to relate to Ethan more as the viewer. Ethan struggles to remember names and faces because he wants to fit in, but we want to figure out what does not fit with sound clues.
I love random, inexplicable evil like Michael Myers, but when a killer has rules, the story needs to make them clear so the film rewards the viewer when we gleefully anticipate when a rule has been invoked and what to expect. The way that it is depicted can be unpredictable, which is what director Elle Callahan excels at in terms of composition, camera movement and pacing, but the story should leave you wanting more, not feeling vaguely cheated or with unanswered questions.
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The hisji is too close to Candyman and too thin on lore. Head Count reminded me of one of the stories in XX, Don’t Fall, which was a more traditional horror movie.
Were some moments in Head Count organic or did the hisji cause it? When Ethan gets an invitation, did the hisji make it happen or would it have happened regardless of the hisji’s penchant for multiples of five? Why the number of five other than the hisji is “The Five Monster?” If Callahan was going for a pentagram, she could have done so, but it initially felt as if she was referencing a more ancient, tied to the location vibe, especially considering the literal line in the sand. The random photo of a family on the nightstand seemed as if it was the same family from Ethan’s internet search, but it is definitely not the same house. Do victims share characteristics other than that they enjoy hanging out in large groups? Were the shotgun blasts the hisji triggering a prior group that it was wrapping up? Are the bracelets significant? What does the hisji get out of it because it is too labor intensive and more social than other creature killers? Also the way that it finally attacks felt reminiscent of The Happening and parts of Unfriended. It was chilling, but how does it fit into the whole story. We do know that it is hungry and prefers protein when Camille disgustedly commented that “five eggs and a whole pack of bacon wasn’t enough,” which, hey, sometimes it isn’t, but in this context, sure.
From what little I could find, hisji may be a Hebrew word for beguile or deceive as in Eve’s characterization of the serpent’s interaction with her. This etymology fits into the depiction of the creature on film; however it also shares characteristics with cinematic aliens-the way that it disrupts technology, can control other people-their actions and perception or/and objects. There is also a casual line about aliens. Is this the devil/snake from the Garden of Eden, now known as the Joshua Tree, or was the devil/snake actually an alien?
Or I am coming up with more background for the creature than Head Count originally intended. Horror speaks to our fears and teaches us a lesson, but I do not think that this movie had a clear one. “We’ll all be together now,” which reminds me of Stephen King’s It tagline “we all float,” but the actor’s delivery was warmer, sounded less like a threat and more like a promise. The creature’s beckoning whispers sound like the beginning of the movie when Ethan is sitting in his car dreading the trip to visit his brother as if he was chosen before he even heard of hisji.
Is the hisji doing them a favor by creating community and erasing insecurity so that when it finally appears, suicide seems like a small price to pay for belonging? The tensest moment is when Ethan’s place in the group is at its most fragile when Zoe gets hurt and thus his only reason to be with them is nearly eliminated. His brother, Peyton, emphasizes his apartness by evoking personal history, which no one else has even mentioned, and treating him like a child. Being an adult means leaving your family and making new ones, but both are inadequate. The end suggests that the hisji makes the group feel as if it fills the deepest individual needs of each person in the group. Instead of Peyton being suspicious that Ethan actually wants to spend time with him, he is so excited that he finally gets to spend time with his brother. It is probably the saddest and most pathetic moment in the film.
Unfortunately Head Count never shows my theory. I am literally filling in the holes because we mainly see things from Ethan’s and briefly Peyton’s perspectives, but because we do not see the hisji interacting with other people, and saying its name five times is not strictly necessary, we don’t know. Callahan is promising, but a horror movie story needs to work on multiple levels. It never transcends its cover story.
