Ever since Stranger Things first burst onto the scene there has been a steady outpouring of media that leans into eighties nostalgia. Realising that people have a soft spot for the ‘olden days’, filmmakers and television execs across the land have been regurgitating legwarmers, synths, and hairspray. The constant barrage of eighties content is starting to wear a little thin though and so it is welcome when a film casts a spotlight on another era of yesteryear. Josh Morris’ Bliss of Evil offers exactly this with its macabre slice of late nineties remembrance.
Filled with Spice Girls inspired hair-styles and an abundance of girl power, Bliss of Evil presents plenty of late nineties counter culture. It doesn’t lean as heavily into nostalgia as other properties, but there are enough knowing nods for those who were around at the time to notice. The subtle nuances to the references is a welcome respite from the usual tact of cramming a bygone decade down your throat. By keeping elements toned down, Morris never risks alienating those unanointed to the era and grants Bliss of Evil a life beyond nostalgia baiting.
Bliss of Evil is an amalgamation of experiences witnessed by co-writers Josh Morris and Corrie Hinschen during their time within the music industry. They have taken these ideas and have warped and distorted them into a chilling riff on the slasher trope. Set primarily during one band rehearsal in 1997, Bliss of Evil offers an analysis of the impact of trauma, the toxicity of ego, and the resilience of the human spirit’s drive to survive. Morris and Hinschen tackle many heavy topics, and there are certainly times when some might need to tap out for a short while. Displacing the story to the late nineties serves as a way to put some distance between the viewer and the occurrences, whilst simultaneously highlighting that, sadly, society hasn’t changed as much as it should have.
A film that has been on the festival circuit for a little while, Bliss of Evil has recently had an update, which throws the viewer right into the violent fray. This new opening scene is a short, but ferocious swirl of unfettered aggression that instantly sets the viewer’s heart-racing. It is a confronting, cold open, but one that asserts Bliss of Evil as being capable of great malice. This new addition is a clever move from Morris and the team as it teases the bloodthirsty crowd before getting stuck into the story.
From its violent beginning, Bliss of Evil switches to focus on sound engineer Isla (Sharnee Tones). The young woman is struggling in the aftermath of an unspoken traumatic event. Elsewhere, her girlfriend Nicole (Shanay De Marco) is avoiding dealing with Isla’s situation by throwing all her energy into getting her band signed. The past always has a way of catching up though, and the couple are forced to face their issues when they, along with the rest of Nicole’s band, find themselves locked into their rehearsal building, stalked by a killer. The brutality in the cold open affords Morris time to explore Isla and her companions. This means that, after the initial carnage, there is a long pause before the blood begins to flow again. Time is spent highlighting how broken and fractured this ‘friendship’ group is. No one genuinely seems to enjoy the other’s company, only tied together by their shared dream of fame and fortune. It’s an accurate portrayal of the inner workings of a lot of bands, and demonstrates how it is so easy for groups to be forever splitting up.
Once everyone and everything is in its place, Morris once again begins to orchestrate the red stuff, though no sequence is quite as impactful as the opener. What is done well during this section of the film is the revelation of the root cause of Isla’s trauma. As Bliss of Evil transports the viewer back to its origins, the real horror lurking within is revealed. The sequence is handled masterfully, so much so that it may trigger those with similar life experiences, so again, caution before viewing is warned.
A welcome dip into the nineties, Bliss of Evil is far more than just a nostalgia grab. Care and effort has been put into capturing the essence of the time period, but the jewel in its crown is Morris’ unflinching look at the harsh realities of the toxicity of self-serving relationships. An excellent ballsy opening sets Bliss of Evil up well, and whilst the kills that follow never quite capture the same emotion, there is plenty of reality grounded horror to keep your blood icy cool.
Bliss of Evil
Summary
Laced with nineties guitar rock and girl power, Bliss of Evil is a confronting watch about trauma and toxicity wrapped up in slasher-friendly packaging.
Bliss of Evil was reviewed at Sohome Horror Pride.
