We are experiencing something of an artistic plague, in what we can refer to as the crisis of the reboots, remakes and revivals – it seems like just about every cherished work of art, particularly those that have even a modicum of popularity and financial success, are returning to the zeitgeist, not through rediscovery of the original works, but rather in what is proving to be an epidemic of pale attempts to recreate the success, which is painful for audiences to witness. While we can find reboots and revivals to have some degree of artistic integrity (since they often do involve the original creatives to some extent), it’s remakes that tend to be the most troubling, since they frequently seem to be scratching the bottom of the barrel in most cases. Whatever drives these studios to take their most acclaimed works and subject them to the humiliation of mediocre remakes is inexplicable, especially since the more logical approach would be to revisit those works that were either failures or deserved another chance to succeed. A well-conceived remake is rare but not impossible, and I always am intrigued by a filmmaker who is daring enough to take certain bold swings when it comes to revisiting existing material. Unsurprisingly, we find that Daniel Goldhaber is one such director, since while he has only made a few films over the years, each one has been distinct and quietly revolutionary in its own way (including How to Blow Up a Pipeline, a truly audacious work of art that only grows in relevance) – and his latest effort sees him venturing into the realm of existing properties, in the form of Faces of Death, which is inspired by the original mondo film of the same title, a pseudo-documentary that presents itself as a collection of images of death, curated into something that fooled many viewers into believing it was a real snuff film. His version is updated to the modern day, and is not a direct remake, but rather a riff on the original, exploring some deeply disquieting themes in a way that is nothing if not wholeheartedly ambitious, and frankly very unsettling, from both a psychological and artistic perspective. Entirely daring and provocative in a way that is difficult to describe, but nonetheless as ambitious as we would expect, Faces of Death is quite an achievement, even if it’s far from an easy film to embrace.

There are always a few key questions that need to be asked before someone tackles the intimidating task of remaking an existing work of art, but perhaps the most vital is based around finding a way to best replicate the core themes while also reinventing the work to be different enough that it is not just riding the coattails of something that already succeeded. Goldhaber is smart in the sense that he chose to take a film that was not some canonical classic (outside of its dedicated cult following), but instead a peculiar curio of a film that already existed on the fringes of decency, and used this as the starting point for something unique. Less of a remake and more an experimental reimagining that takes the central premise and builds upon it, this version of Faces of Death is set in the present day, and follows a content moderator for a social media website who runs into disturbing content, which she pieces together to determine that there’s a serial killer who is inspired by John Alan Schwartz’s original film, dedicated to recreating those gruesome depictions of death in real life, sharing them through social media. It should not be difficult to see why this is such a timely subject – we live in an era where the internet has corrupted us to the point where we’ve become so desensitised to violence that we could witness a serial killer quite literally showing us his process without being any the wiser. The director draws clear inspiration from how social media has grown from merely a way to stay connected to arguably the most widespread form of entertainment today – somehow, we all carry a small device with us, through which the entire world is unlocked, which includes many people with malicious intentions, to which we have unfiltered access for the most part. Goldhaber doesn’t seem disdainful towards social media as he is weary of its impact, and in crafting this fascinating riff on the original film, he manages to say something profound and provocative about a subject that is not widely discussed enough, especially in terms of how content showing the worst of humanity can be delivered directly to the most impressionable of viewers, who may not even notice how much their minds are being infiltrated by certain indelible images.

The themes that are being explored throughout Faces of Death are certainly complex, and ultimately require actors who are willing to not only subject themselves to some gruelling physical work (since a lot of the film is built around movement and subtle, non-verbal cues), but also to inhabit the minds of these fascinating but challenging characters. In the part of Margot, a young woman who believes herself to be far less receptive to violence as a result of a tragedy that took place earlier in her life (from which she is desperate to escape), we have the wonderful Barbie Ferreira, who is building quite an impressive body of work for herself, taking on roles in small but fascinating projects that make exceptional use of her talent. Playing this ordinary person who somehow finds herself inadvertently being drawn into a sinister conspiracy that threatens multiple lives, her own included, she is exceptional. Much of the film is very intense, and there isn’t a moment where it feels like Ferreira is being too overwhelmed to fully comprehend the scope of what she needs to do, and the director is very smart in how he builds the film around her unique set of skills, allowing it to be a fantastic showcase of her wonderful talents. Similarly, we have Dacre Montgomery, who is also growing into a tremendous character actor in his own right, as the serial killer who decides to take advantage of the morbid curiosity of the online community as an excuse to assert his psychopathic desires. What makes his performance so chilling is that he never plays the part as being some clear lunatic – the trope of the creepy, disconcerting person who dwells outside of public view is entirely unraveled with this character, since he is shown to be an ordinary man with a conventional retail job and a valued member of his community – it’s a smart decision, and one that Montgomery clearly enjoys developing, creating one of the most despicable on-screen villains we’ve seen in years, being most effective when he’s portraying Arthur as someone who wholeheartedly acknowledges his wrongdoing, while also making it clear that there is a purpose behind it, one of the most haunting reminders that even the most evil of individuals genuinely believe that they are justified in their actions.

Unlike the original director, Goldhaber is not someone who comes across as being focused solely on shocking viewers. As we’ve mentioned, he’s always been driven by the desire to say something meaningful, using his platform as an opportunity to critically discuss important issues. However, his methods to prevent his work from becoming didactic are fascinating, since instead of simply lecturing the viewer, he embraces different genres and a wide range of styles, communicating the same messages while also giving us something truly memorable in the process. Faces of Death is a remarkably well-made film, albeit one that doesn’t immediately jump out as being a particularly daring directorial achievement. At a glance, it seems to be a relatively conventional slasher horror film, following the dual perspectives of the two main characters, oscillating between them in an effort to create a sense of binary between them, representing the division between good and evil, another central theme that the film lightly explores. However, as the film progresses, we find the intricate details starting to become more prominent, with the director ensuring that absolutely everything is tied together under the central premise. There’s an astonishing amount of meticulous attention to detail throughout the film, with everything from the nuances of the fictional social media platform central to the plot (and for anyone with even the most vague knowledge of contemporary technology, it is very obvious what the film is lampooning) to the larger setpieces, particularly those involving the climactic third act, are all incredibly cohesive, working in tandem to create a very memorable experience. Goldhaber is also deviating from the common practice of young horror directors in the sense that he’s not trying to make a film that positions itself as endlessly scary in the traditional sense, but rather something more conventional that still terrifies us, but in a way that is much more authentic and frankly more haunting, since it feels like it has its roots in a recognisable reality. It doesn’t need to be too elaborate or complex, since the story contains everything we need to be drawn into this fascinating and provocative work of unhinged horror.

Much like the film on which it is based, I don’t expect Faces of Death to be particularly appealing to a large portion of the audience, and its popularity will probably rely on the same category of viewers as the original, namely those who have a penchant for the precise kind of unhinged chaos on which this film is constructed. It’s not an overly complex affair, but rather a film that knows how to draw the audience in, delivering to us exactly what it promises at the start, which is a deeply unnerving exploration of social media and society’s bizarre hyperfixation on crime stories, almost as if we’ve become so desensitised to violence and gore that we can be presented with the most grotesque images and simply believe it to be nothing but fabrications. Whether or not the director intended this film to be a mere observation of what he has seen developing over the years, or a cautionary tale warning viewers against the very likely risk that we will come across some deeply demented individuals if we linger online for too long, isn’t made clear – Goldhaber is very much a socially-conscious filmmaker, and both Cam and How to Blow Up a Pipeline had clear messages, compacted under layers of the most enthralling, genre-based filmmaking of the past decade. We find this film to follow the same pattern, being an uncomfortable but fascinating voyage into the depths of the human mind, examining what drives people to actually lose so much faith in humanity that they have to resort to the commodification of suffering as a seemingly profitable source of both income and validation, which is a far more troubling issue than any of the macabre imagery presented to us throughout this film. Not a masterpiece in the traditional sense, but rather a thinly-veiled piece of social commentary concealed under an enticing layer of dense, complex horror filmmaking, Faces of Death is an immense achievement, and a film that earns every bit of our attention simply through being willing to have the difficult conversations while never losing its unique, rebellious spark.