Editor’s Note: This was originally published for FANGORIA on August 6, 2007, and we’re proud to share it as part of The Gingold Files.
Domain of the Damned (originally, and more evocatively, titled Necrophobia) is the type of movie that’s sometimes referred to as a calling-card film—one in which the creator clearly threw in everything he could think of in order to make an impression. Crazily ambitious, this debut feature by writer/director/cinematographer/editor/a bunch of other stuff Stacy Davidson stuffs 10 pounds of shock in a 5-pound bag, and might have been a new low-budget classic if it just made a little more sense. Not that logic is always the prime facet of a horror movie’s success, but the storytelling in Domain of the Damned becomes random to the point of disorganization and occasional confusion. Yet even when the narrative becomes muddled, Davidson delivers the scares with style, and pace too; any people-trapped-in-a-scary-house indie is pushing things if it goes much beyond 90 minutes, and this one manages to sustain interest for about 105.
The setting is a real-life Texas haunted attraction called ScreamWorld, playing itself (with help from another nearby spookhouse called Phobia). In this scenario, the place is owned by slimeball Mr. Griffin (Leon Blum, a.k.a. “Ari,” wearing a sleazy mustache) and run by the gruff Mr. Joad (Frank Page), whose rules are enforced by the hot-tempered Buferd (Leo D. Wheeler, also one of the movie’s producers). What truly separates this ScreamWorld from the actual one is the fact that, due to some Egyptian occult mumbo jumbo involving an ancient amulet, its basement “Necrophobia” exhibit is made up of real and deadly freaks, including Chopper the Wayward Lumberjack, Inside-Out Man and my favorite, Squidboy, who has a pointy, deformed head and long cylindrical tentacles he uses to grab and crush human prey. Oh, and then there’s a hooded Grim Reaper type wielding a mechanized weapon that’s a combination scythe and Swiss Army knife.
The roll call of protagonists/potential victims is equally long. We’ve got Jerrod (Jude Hickey), a drifter who accepts a Help Wanted offer at ScreamWorld just before a) its opening night and b) he discovers that his traumatic past (glimpsed in early flashbacks) might have something to do with those creeps in the cellar. We’ve got Lisa (Christin Sawyer Davis), a woman whose young nephew Gregory (Jasen Blum) gets lost in the labyrinthine building, with Jerrod joining her in the hunt for the errant tyke. We’ve got a large group from a local radio station hosting a live show that includes an outdoor rock performance before everyone heads into ScreamWorld. (The most notable of this bunch is Randy Rage, played by a red-mohawked actor billed only as “Bunny” who’s pretty damn funny; you wouldn’t think the simple line “Run!” could be spoken as amusingly as he says it here.) And we’ve got assorted customers who also become trapped in the spookhouse when the real live monsters go on a rampage.
That’s a lot of humans and non-humans to keep track of, and despite several onscreen glimpses of a ScreamWorld floor plan, the geography of the rooms they’re constantly running into and out of becomes hard to follow as well. Individual setpieces, however, are vividly staged by Davidson, who also demonstrates a great eye for spooky lighting and effective camera placement, most strikingly in a couple of impressive overhead exterior shots. There are jumps and jolts aplenty, and while Davidson isn’t stingy with the gore, it’s not oversold or dwelled on too long. Having written himself an enormous roll call of human targets, he dispatches them with sufficient variety that the mayhem holds your attention to the end.
Among the large cast, the aforementioned Bunny makes the most entertaining impression, but Hickey and Davis are also likable as the heroes, and the rest of the unknown cast’s performances are at least decent and frequently better. That includes the ferocious turns by the actors playing the assorted ghouls and zombies, working under fine makeup and prosthetics by Mike Oliver and Morgan McCarthy. Davidson, who has contributed visual FX to other Southern indies like 100 Tears and Closet Space, has also conjured up digital wizardry for his own feature that belies his modest funds—particularly at the climax, when one last beast joins the menagerie.
Those concluding scenes attempt to tie all the subplots together, with varying success; Jerrod’s backstory and its connection with ScreamWorld’s denizens remains a tad fuzzy, as does the significance of that hooded slayer, who’s initially set up as a key malefactor but ultimately becomes relegated to the sidelines. Davidson appears to have had such enthusiasm for this project that he rushed headlong into each new scene, without paying much mind to whether it tied in securely enough with the preceding one. But passion like that is to be encouraged, and will no doubt be tempered with discipline as Davidson continues his filmmaking efforts. And Domain of the Damned succeeds in establishing his as a burgeoning career well worth watching.
