The Retreat: Gory Revenge Horror Skirts Uncomfortably Close to Easy Exploitation

By Thom Ernst

Rating: B-

I’m an unapologetic fan of genre films, but my propensity for the creepy and the ghoulish occasionally hits a wall. It’s rare, but it happens in films that target marginalized groups already targeted in the real world.

It’s a reaction that is more instinctive than political. And the gauge I use is a sliding scale that starts at “Ahh, this ain’t so bad” and ends at “WTF am I watching?”

With The Retreat, the gauge leaps from one end of the scale and the other. There is much to like in the film, from moments of gripping suspense, some severe bits of dead-on carnage, and masterful work of villainy among its cast. But it’s the meticulous scenes of torture of its gay characters that leave a nasty taste.

It adds up to an uneasy blend of conventional thrills with the worst kind of exploitation.

The Retreat puts two same-sex couples in a weekend fight for their lives. They ditch the city for a pre-wedding retreat in the country.

"What’s next?” asks Renee (Tommie-Amber Pirie), “A gender reveal cruise?” Renee wants to stay behind, but her new relationship with Valerie (Sarah Allen) is at the meeting-each-other's-friends stage. Try as she may, Renee cannot wrangle her way out of attending.

In another car are Scott (Munro Chambers) and Connor (Chad Connell), reliving the moments that led to their engagement, including a discussion as to whether or not their Grindr meet-up was influenced on the appeal of a “dick-pic.”

PROUDLY SUPPORTS ORIGINAL-CIN

The couples arrive at an out-of-the-way cabin in the woods. It would be the ideal getaway if it were not for the neighbours with gripes about the country’s diminishing morals. It doesn’t sit well with these militant extremists that a group of left-wing perverts should invade their safe place and flaunt an unnatural right to marry. Naturally, they are obliged to “do something about it.”

The villains, led by Rossif Sutherland and Aaron Ashmore, provide an alternative from the toothless inbred hucksters who live in rotting shacks and drive rusted-out pickups that frequently populate the genre. Celina Sinden is a film highlight as the hyper-judgmental self-righteous den-keeper.

Stacking the film with ready-to-wear victims allows easy access to the kind of audience outrage needed to make any comeuppance—should the tables turn—worthwhile. But it’s the kind of writing that feels like a cheat, as do scenes of (hopefully) exaggerated cruelty leading to those moments.

My objection to watching the persecuted be persecuted might seem an unfair qualifier, given that the primary goal of horror is to cause discomfort. And victimization of all sorts is the meat and potatoes of a decent scare. Indeed, by entering a horror movie, I’m also entering an agreement that there will be blood.

The Retreat’s premise is as effective as it is disconcerting. The violence against its gay characters is horrific, but the film’s gimmicks and twists eliminate it from adding much to a conversation about hate crimes. And the surprisingly comic elements that arrive in the third act suggest there was never any intent to be political.

It’s unlikely director Pat Mills (or writer Alyson Richards) set out to capitalize on homophobic hate crimes or manipulate the audience with an easy-to-access sense of righteous rage. The greater effort appears to be focused on creating a more progressive representation by giving non-cis characters heroic roles. And to its credit, The Retreat does allow enough of a shift in the paradigm to somewhat deconstruct the horror template.

Yet despite efforts to set itself apart from other rural survival horrors, the familiar remains intact: The Retreat upholds a tradition of domestic xenophobia where the inner-city is a place of progression, and rural life is a hotbed of backward thinking.

But to someone of the LGBTQ+ (and BIPOC) community, increased visibility outside the city line might well be a frightening reality.

The Retreat. Directed by Pat Mills. Starring Tommie-Amber Pirie, Sarah Allen, Rossif Sutherland, Celina Sinden, and Aaron Ashmore. Available beginning May 21 in selected theatres, on-demand, and other streaming platforms.