Some twenty years ago a tragedy befell a school play. Now, just two decades later, this film arrives to inflict pain upon cinema goers the world over.
The new horror begins with the decision to restate the doomed play to somehow honour those effected by the first. Of course being a found footage film, we get every excruciating second of the Making Of, filmed by Ryan, undoubtedly the most abrasive, obnoxious and generally unpleasant film character of the last five years.
If young people insist on continuing to film there every waking moment, how can they see us old people silently judging them…?
Slashers are at their core about lining up these annoying young people for their turn at the pointy end of the blade – although in this case the weapon of choice is a noose… kooky. There is usually not much thought put into the order of the slaughter, just the unveiling of the ‘surprise’ killer at the end. I rarely care about the victims or even the identity of the perpetrator, but from the first emission of the shrill abrading nonsense from Ryan’s incessant yap, I yearned for nothing more than the swiftest of bloody deaths for him.
Ryan is the camera operator, so his voice is omnipresent in every single scene.
As Ryan continued to draw each new breath, and then used the energy to further damage my ear canals and delicate sensibilities, this film put more of a hurting on me than the usual mediocrity that passes for lazy horror.
This film literally gave me a splitting headache.
A ludicrous decision brings the leads of the film and a couple hangers on – including old Shrieky – to the pitch black environs of the play in the dead of night…
Things go bump and seem to move about of their own volition. Upon working out that they are not alone the kids shriek and run around aimlessly, only to end up exactly where the film needs them to be at the pre-appointed time. There is a reveal and a culmination of events. Of sorts. And the horrifying realisation that I’d rather sit through eighty amateurish high school plays than revisit the paltry yet punishing eighty minutes of The Gallows.
Final Rating – 2 / 10. When an already god awful film thinks it wise to have the world’s most tortuous emcee on the mic for the duration, this can only be a recipe for disaster. The Gallows might not be the worst film of the year, but it hurt me the most.
