The Shade
by Adam Barney
You can’t outrun grief. You can’t hide from grief. It lurks and waits for an inopportune time to pounce. In director and co-writer Tyler Chipman’s melancholic psycho-horror feature debut The Shade, grief is physically embodied as a pale creature haunting a family.
Ryan (Chris Galust) witnessed his father’s suicide at a young age. It’s not just his father’s tragic death that haunts him; he also saw a darkness that surrounded his father, portrayed by shadowy, robed figures that were also there to bear witness.
Flash forward to the present and Ryan is a college student who suffers from a severe anxiety disorder. He returns to his depressing hometown to help take care of his younger brother James (Sam Duncan) and help his mom Renee (Laura Benanti). To complicate matters, his trouble-making older brother Jason (Dylan McTee) also returns home and he’s dealing with some serious personal demons. This sounds like typical family drama fare, but Ryan sees a pale monster (credited as the Harpy) lurking around his older brother, portending an unfortunate fate like his father’s.
The Shade wears its metaphors on its sleeves. It is clearly about grief, depression, suicide, and the burden of mental illness in families, and the film mines these themes to varying degrees of success.
“Grief monsters” aren’t new in the genre, we’ve seen them before in The Babadook, The Night House, A Ghost Story, and even 1973’s Don’t Look Now. The Shade seeks to distinguish itself from these other titles through its use of the Harpy—a creepy, feminine figure that it does not hide, and for good reason. The makeup and f/x are excellent. The unsettling creature slinks, stares, and instills dread. There are no real jump scares. The horror comes from this creature and the inevitability that tragedy may only ever be an arm’s length away.
The performances across the board are quite good here. Galust has the heaviest load to lift as Ryan battles anger, guilt, fear, and debilitating anxiety. He manages to share these struggles effectively without going over the top in his performance.
The film is a slow burn—probably too slow a burn for its own good. We get plenty of time with the characters, but the narrative is light on any events or tension that would help hold interest for the two-hour plus runtime. The ending also lacks the emotional punch we have come to expect from a grief monster story and you may be surprised when the credits pop up.
Chipman and his team have crafted an admirable debut with The Shade. The cinematography is quite good throughout, especially with all of the nighttime and low light scenes. I’m definitely interested in whatever they might do next.
