Timo Tjajhanto's segment "The Subject" is the vivid standout in this messy found-footage sequel which heads back to its grainy-cassette-tape roots. After the last installment bombed, it needed franchise returnees Timo Tjajhanto and Simon Barett, plus a conceptualizer in David Bruckner to inject some interest back into this anthology series. Similar to the "Safe Haven" segment by Gareth Evans and Timo Tjajhanto in V/H/S 2, Timo pulls off yet another audio-visual showcase here that melds CGI and practical effects in an action-packed (but non-scary) thirty-minute stretch shot entirely in first-person. This segment towers over the rest in terms of its core idea, slick production design, and bucketfuls of gore. It's the only segment worth revisiting in the film altogether.
I also enjoyed Chloe Okuno's Storm Drain in bits & pieces, especially for its typical found-footage claustrophobia, wacky effects, and an unexpected tinge of dark humor. Simon Barett's "The Empty Wake" initially gets its mood and atmosphere right before squandering all of it for something unintentionally laughable. The exciting bits in Ryan Prows' "Terror" are far too less to really mean anything other than its authentic '90s touches. Jennifer Reeder's wraparound segment "Holy Hell" suffers from poor performances and frequent breaks - the tension is wholly lacking. What's uniformly remarkable all through is the film's aesthetics. The news reports actually resemble the ones from the 90s; there's also retro CGI and even a fake infomercial that looks too darn legit. Add some grunge music, CRT televisions, and shades of the early internet into the mix, and we get a pretty decent throwback of sorts.
I also enjoyed Chloe Okuno's Storm Drain in bits & pieces, especially for its typical found-footage claustrophobia, wacky effects, and an unexpected tinge of dark humor. Simon Barett's "The Empty Wake" initially gets its mood and atmosphere right before squandering all of it for something unintentionally laughable. The exciting bits in Ryan Prows' "Terror" are far too less to really mean anything other than its authentic '90s touches. Jennifer Reeder's wraparound segment "Holy Hell" suffers from poor performances and frequent breaks - the tension is wholly lacking. What's uniformly remarkable all through is the film's aesthetics. The news reports actually resemble the ones from the 90s; there's also retro CGI and even a fake infomercial that looks too darn legit. Add some grunge music, CRT televisions, and shades of the early internet into the mix, and we get a pretty decent throwback of sorts.