Directed by Vincent Grashaw
Written by Robert Alan Dilts
Starring: Robert Patrick, Nick Stahl, Scott Haze
Runtime: 2 Hours
Now streaming on Shudder

by Nikk Nelson, Staff Writer

The opening of director Vincent Grashaw and writer Robert Alan Dilts’s What Josiah Saw (2021) reminded me of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974). Momentarily beautiful and serene in a way but you know deep down something is about to be wrong. By minute three, I thought I was settling in for a movie about the origin of a very specific type of male evil that is pervasive in American society. What breeds it? Well, poverty for one thing. Alcohol and drug addiction don’t help. Total lack of healthcare and rural infrastructure collapse certainly exacerbate it. But who do these men blame? Women. Politics. Cabals of <insert non-white race here> that sex traffic children in basements of pizza parlors. Basically, anyone who isn’t them or the actual people/corporations responsible for decimating their community. Namely, the oil company that shows up by minute ten and wants all the land. There’s just one problem. One of the properties they have their eye on, local legend has it, is haunted. But the setup is a rope-a-dope. The film ultimately turns in something truly surprising about the secrets we keep and the lies we tell ourselves in order to keep them. 

I was sold on reviewing this film by the trailer. When I saw Nick Stahl’s name, I literally squee-d. Nick Stahl is one of those actors I’ve always rooted for. I loved him in Carnivale (HBO) and Sin City (2005), just to name a couple, and years back when he was in the news struggling with serious drug addiction, I was honestly worried we would lose him. But here he is as Eli Graham and I hope to everything it means he is happy, healthy, and back to working consistently—and not so much that the character he plays, a wanton, lost, drug addict was an easy role to take. Stahl’s talent has always shined bright and it is on full display in this performance. Not to be outdone, even Robert Patrick’s hair is drunk during his performance as the perpetually inebriated, broken, titular Josiah Graham. Sure, he chews a little scenery, but goddammit, that’s why I love Robert Patrick. Stahl’s competition goes even deeper than that. The supporting cast is so good, it almost seems like it doesn’t belong. Standouts include Tony Hale (Arrested Development) as Ross Milner, Kelli Garner (Godzilla: King of the Monsters) as Mary Milner, and Jake Weber (Dawn of the Dead) as Boone. One I’ll definitely keep my eye on is Ronnie Gene Blevins who is quietly hilarious as Billy. 

The film unfolds across three interconnected chapters. It moves and speaks like a well-written novel with the horror elements peppered in—as if Jim Thompson and Daniel Woodrell baked a cake in Stephen King’s oven—the same one that baked Dolores Claiborne (1995). What, to me, were a few cliché compositions and shots were more than made up for in some really unique and creative sequences. A fight scene in Chapter 2 is a personal favorite. Overall, Chapter 3: Mary May I is probably my favorite. It looks, sounds, and feels like a beautiful homage to The Shining (1980) but, like, if Wendy never took anyone’s shit.  

Neo-noir is getting to be more and more difficult of a label for me to use. Given the state of the world, the darker, more hopeless and cynical aspects of noir as a genre in film simply feel at this point like Cinema Verité. So, with this film, dare I coin a new film movement, Cinema Amerité: the American answer to the original French movement which is basically filming horror/noir as if it’s documentary because that’s how hollowed out our daily lives have become. All of us pretending we’re not collectively experiencing various levels of PTSD in a seemingly endless cycle of shock, horror, and despair with no room for healing in a barely wage-livable forty plus-hour work week. Smile at dinner parties. Put up a Live, Laugh, Love sign in the living room. Suffer quietly. But what I always hold on to, and I think the film does to, despite its twist and very bleak conclusion, is remembering the connections we have to each other. Family, friends—even if those connections are strained, or broken, you always have the chance to go home—fix them, maybe. Or, at the very least remind yourself why you’re a fighter still fighting and a survivor still surviving. Stick around for the song running under the credits, “Dynamite Mine” by Murder by Death. It’s great.