“Strange Harvest: Occult Murder in the Inland Empire” is Faux True Crime at Its Most Horrific
Somewhere in between horror and true crime lies the faux documentary. While technically falling under the found footage genre, this unique subtype tells a fictional story through the lens of investigative journalism. Rather than disconnected snippets the audience must mentally piece together, the faux documentary walks us through each step of the story, presenting manufactured scene fragments along with exposition and eye-witness accounts. Like the best true crime documentaries, we’re treated to a linear story while peering into the lives of others – with salacious context to light the way. Thirteen years after the release of his cult hit Grave Encounters, Stuart Ortiz tells a similar story with Strange Harvest: Occult Murder in the Inland Empire. Disturbing murders abound as two hardened detectives remember tracking a serial killer hell-bent on summoning a murderous god.
Strange Harvest begins with a horrific crime. A suburban family drops out of sight and a routine welfare check reveals a horrific triple murder. Two parents and their young daughter have been bound and bled, while sitting at their family dinner table. Occult symbology painted on the ceiling connects this crime to a string of gruesome murders dating back to the 90s. It’s the first in a series of over-the-top death tableaus, revealed through body cam footage and crime scene photos. The man who will come to be known as Mr. Shiny (Jessee J. Clarkson), has no MO save for a crude triangular figure scrawled near each body. He meticulously searches for specific victims then plans and executes their agonizing deaths as an offering to an ancient deity.
While extremely distressing, these set pieces are the highlight of the film. Ortiz presents one grisly death after another, each more inventive than the last. A true renaissance man of murder, Mr. Shiny employs knives, guns, buckets, bleach, plastic bags, and propane torches to dispatch his victims. In addition to decapitation and disembowelment, one victim suffers death by leach while another becomes a blood eagle hanging from the swings at a neighborhood playground. Josh Russell’s special effects and makeup work take center stage in this grotesque extravaganza of guts and gore.
Ortiz takes full advantage of his fictional story, indulging in salacious crime scene photos that would feel exploitative and tasteless coming from an actual case. The opening scene shows uncomfortably close images of a child’s rotting corpse, presenting details that would send even hardened true crime fanatics crying foul. But the faux documentary format allows us to indulge in all these upsetting recreations, knowing that none of them actually happened. Ortiz also has the liberty to shape the story in a satisfying way, leaning into the absurd, outlandish, or impossible without the burden of accurate reporting. The result is a well-paced story that builds to a horrific yet satisfying conclusion.
Despite this narrative flexibility, Ortiz resists the temptation to over explain. Detectives Joe Kirby (Peter Zizzo) and Lexi Taylor (Terri Apple) slowly uncover Mr. Shiny’s true identity as he attempts to summon a worm-like beast. Like a found footage version of Se7en, we’re introduced to this mysterious killer through his crimes and Mr. Shiny does not appear until halfway through the film when he’s caught on a would-be makeup tutorial filmed by his latest victim. Wearing a tri-holed mask, he stares into the camera before raising a smoky-black entity from the young woman’s corpse. As his body count continues to grow, this deranged killer leads law enforcement to the isolated woods where he attempts to fulfill his devious plan. We get just enough information to imagine the worst before tipping into the realm of disbelief.
Every horror fan knows that the found footage/faux documentary style is notoriously risky. For every Lake Mungo or Paranormal Activity, there are five more titles that simply don’t land. Strange Harvest succeeds thanks to a restrained directorial eye and a crowd-pleasing story that does not skimp on the disturbing details. Bolstered by Russell’s incredible effects work, Ortiz pulls us into an otherworldly terror, indulging in occult exhilaration while keeping his feet planted firmly on the ground.
Jenn Adams is a writer, podcaster, and film critic from Nashville, TN. Find her social media nonsense @jennferatu.