Fantasia Review: Hellcat is a Limited Survival Thriller

      Lena (Dakota Gorman) wakes up unaware of her surroundings. The room feels confined and is moving, leaving her groggy, as if she's just emerged from a drug-induced slumber. She cannot remember how she ended up here. Therefore, when Clive’s (Todd Terry) voice comes through a loudspeaker situated in a wolf's head above the Airstream’s dining table, she fears the worst. Despite his claims of being a “good and honest guy,” she finds herself locked in an RV, uncertain of his true intentions.

      This sets the stage for the main narrative of Brock Bodell’s Hellcat. Clive explains that he rescued her from a campsite after she was infected by a dangerous virus that is advancing toward her heart. If Lena does not receive specialized care immediately, she will succumb to the illness. He insists that they cannot involve anyone else for fear of triggering a full outbreak, pleading with her to trust him, maintaining that he has dressed her wounds and padlocked the door for her safety. After all, she isn't restrained or silenced. Clive strives to keep her informed about the situation, but the circumstances inherently limit how much he can reassure her.

      The story then evolves into a survival film. Lena frantically searches the trailer for anything that could aid her escape: testing all the doors, shouting into the wind as they speed down the highway, grabbing a pair of scissors for defense, and attempting to win Clive’s support. She requests that he call someone from her phone to alert them of her survival. She tries to connect with him by discussing her mother’s death and her own impending motherhood, hoping to make him vulnerable enough to provide her an opportunity to call for help or to trigger an emotional response that would lead him to stop the vehicle.

      Unlike thrillers set in a single location, such as Buried or Phone Booth, where a protagonist faces a clear villain, Bodell’s script keeps the possibility open that Clive might genuinely want to help Lena. He shares his own tragic family experience as a widower with a distanced daughter, directs her to where the speaker is located to facilitate better communication, and displays real concern whenever her heightened anxiety increases her heart rate, accelerating the virus in her system. Therefore, when the camera shifts to reveal him in the truck's cab, it becomes clear that the struggle for survival is mutual.

      Both characters navigate life without their respective matriarchs, who served as their foundation. Lena has become estranged from her father, just as Clive is from his daughter. They are both isolated in the middle of nowhere, with no desire for this to be the end of their stories, despite their shared grief. However, it’s impossible to overlook the power dynamics with Clive literally in control of the vehicle, whether they are viewed as captor and captive or as an infected individual and a cautious transport. The boundary between these interpretations is precarious due to, neither of them recalling how Lena became sick or was rescued. Trust in a horror film is not easily established.

      This is why Bodell confines us within the trailer alongside Lena. We are positioned to uncover the truth along with her, as fragments of memories come into view through a clever blend of space and time that brings the forest and her friends into the Airstream. It resembles a projection of her mind, creating glimpses of her past: for instance, a hunter outside her tent appearing as a silhouette against the beads separating the kitchen from the living area. Since we assess Clive's actions just as Lena does, our trust in his intentions diminishes with each intensification of his caretaking. Only when the perspective shifts to show his confusion and fear do we begin to reconsider.

      This leads to an exceptional third act that allows Gorman and Terry to portray their characters as more than their current predicament. Eventually, Clive’s motives are clarified, and everything he has said will come into a new light. If he is indeed the villain, any falsehoods will be exposed as lies. If he is not, then any unfulfilled statements might reveal that he too has been deceived. This ambiguity invites speculation about Lena's true condition; the dark tendrils creeping through her veins suggest illness, but that may not be entirely accurate. Are they grappling with a virus as understood, or is there a supernatural element involved?

      While nothing that unfolds is surprising in its realistic cause-and-effect progression, the final thirty minutes take an unexpected turn with the arrival of Liz Atwater and Jordan Mullins, who complicate matters. Their presence allows us to finally grasp the broader scope of Hellcat's mythology while further developing Lena and Clive’s relationship. Understanding what is truly happening to her and Clive’s position on the friend-or-foe spectrum is merely half the battle. We still need clarity on whether they will survive, what it means to be a “good guy,” and the realization that the deceased never fully fade away