Two little kids, a boy and a girl, after being abducted and mentally and physically abused, they become adults and live on the streets, doing whatever is necessary to survive.
As you may have figured by now, I’m a horror fan. Gardens of the Night, definitely not a horror film, addresses one of the scariest scenarios for every living human being, especially parents. The non-linear narrative tells the story in a way that sustains the suspense until the end. Producer /writer/director Damian Harris develops the plot in a way that will glue you to your seats and will make you want to intervene, to step in, to take action, and end the atrocity. The fact that you won’t be able to though, something that you know but you are willing to fool yourselves even for a second, will make you at least root for the kids but also the adults and pray for a happy ending. I personally hate happy endings. But not when I know that tragedies like the film’s theme are actually happening while I’m writing this review, right now.
It is a powerful film! There are shots that will make you cringe, and there shots, such as the one with the milk in the fridge and adult Leslie after the failed sex scene that will make you want to squeeze the chair your are sitting on and cry your eyes out.
My standing ovation goes to everyone: Harris for doing all the hard work. Ryan Simpkins and Jermaine ‘Scooter’ Smith, and Gillian Jacobs and Evan Ross, for carrying the film on their shoulders. John Malkovich, Peter Evans, Peta Wilson, Michelle Rodriguez, Shiloh Fernandez, Harold Perrineau and Jeremy Sisto for having cameos that anyone could have done them and yet they decided to simply participate due to the film’s nightmarish nature. Especially, Tom Arnold who has experienced first hand this nightmare and took the most detestable part. Last but not least, the rest of the cast and crew who made this film possible. Bravo!
This is the American style of filmmaking that reveals a layer of our society that no one wants to admit it exists. That no one wants to know it exists. A layer that is not buried deep under but right in front of us and yet we willingly turn the goddamn blind eye because it would shake us to our core. And then we would have to overlook ourselves just to do something about it. My utmost respect to the unknown, suffering heroes who do… and the poor souls who have to endure it…