Horror Fandom on Trial in In a Violent Nature
Note: Spoilers for In a Violent Nature appear in the commentary below. This includes the fates of characters, in-depth descriptions of some of the death sequences, and a discussion of the ending. If you plan to watch In a Violent Nature, you should return to this article after having done so.
In a Violent Nature (2024) tells the story of Johnny, a hulking, reanimated killer, as he unleashes his bloody wrath on a group of young friends during their secluded forest getaway. It’s a familiar story, not dissimilar to many of the countless slasher movies from the past several decades. Despite this, In a Violent Nature is a wildly satisfying deconstruction of the slasher genre and offers incisive commentary on horror fandom itself.
The trailer for In a Violent Nature immediately lets you know that the film strives to be unique. The filmmakers have chosen to utilize an interesting visual conceit: for most of the film’s runtime, the camera hovers just over the shoulder of the movie’s villain. As a result, the movie more closely resembles a nature documentary than a typical movie. Instead of following a pride of lions or a herd of elements, we are instead documenting the exploits of a monster. This technique strips way the polished veneer of mainstream horror movies, embracing a voyeuristic style that transforms the standard slasher narrative into a thought-provoking exploration of violence and predation.
The plot of the film is straightforward. A small group of friends have come to the forest for a week of leisure, staying at a secluded cabin in the woods. The opening scene of the film establishes the primary method of delivering exposition, namely short snippets of dialog that the camera happens to be close enough to overhear. It is during this opening scene that one of the campers removes a locket from the ruins of a fire tower. This is our inciting incident, that which causes Johnny to emerge from his resting place buried beneath the wreckage of the tower. As Johnny begins to slowly make his way through the woods, the camera follows.
Slasher Origins
The slasher genre has its origins in the Italian thrillers known as Giallo. Both genres share certain stylistic and thematic elements, such as a focus on violent and graphic murder scenes, the use of suspense and tension, and the presence of a mysterious or masked killer. However, while Giallo films often have complex plots and intricate storylines, slasher films tend to strip these elements down to a more straightforward narrative focused on the killer’s pursuit of victims. This simplicity is evident even in Halloween (1978), widely regarded as the first true slasher film. Halloween features no mystery or whodunit elements, consisting instead of a series of tightly paced events punctuated by a few kills, leading to the film’s harrowing conclusion.
Having watched many of the slasher films from the 1980s and beyond, this pared-back structure results in many genre entries feeling similar to one another. The films lack complex plotting and deep characters, so watching slasher movies becomes a pleasant exercise in discovering how the filmmakers differentiate themselves. What mask does the killer wear? What is their weapon of choice? What is their motivation? How do they dispatch their victims? Each slasher film brings its own flavor to these elements, making the viewing experience fresh and engaging despite the relative sameness of the plots.
In a Violent Nature elevates the stripped-down nature of slashers, exploiting it to the film’s benefit. We spend very little time with the campers who will become Johnny’s victims, learning about them mostly through snippets of dialogue that the camera overhears. Despite this, longtime watchers of horror movies know exactly who each character is: the final girl, the jerk, the nerd, the good guy, the flirt, etc.
This lack of characterization is a natural consequence of the presentation choice; extended characterization sequences cannot exist when the camera is dedicated to following the killer. Even still, we learn that the final girl, Kris, is dating the jerk, Troy, while pining for the good guy, Colt. Ehren, the nerd, serves as our exposition dump, while Evan, Brodie, and Aurora serve as fodder. The filmmakers understand the sameness that permeates slasher films, respecting and trusting that their audience will intuit enough about the characters, making further investment in their development unnecessary. There is no doubt that a much more cinematic version of In a Violent Nature could have been told using a more traditional approach. But we’ve already seen that movie countless times. In a Violent Nature is more interesting because of the details it chooses to omit and the ideas it chooses to focus on.
Horror Fandom of Trial
One of the consequences of the sameness of slasher films became increasingly evident as various franchises gained popularity throughout the 1980s and 1990s. Often, the only recurring characters in these films were the slashers themselves. Freddy, Michael, Jason, and Chucky became the stars of their respective franchises, transcending their roles as mere villains and becoming iconic, much like the Universal monsters from the early 20th century.
Meanwhile, their victims largely consisted of the interchangeable archetypes previously mentioned. Little more than fodder, most characters in these films exist only to serve as a delivery mechanism for the unique methods of murder and mayhem. At some point, audiences ceased sympathizing with these characters and instead began to root for the villains. Audiences began to delight in seeing new and unique methods of murder. Horror fans worshiped at the altars of special effects wizards like Tom Savini, Stan Winston, and Rick Baker.
This trend persists today. The Hatchet series and the more recent Terrifier films seem to exist largely to elicit those feelings of shock and awe as victims have their heads and bodies ripped apart in the most gratuitous and imaginative ways possible. Along these same lines, In a Violent Nature aims to not disappoint genre fans. The first kill happens largely off-screen, but Johnny and the camera pass back by the scene, allowing the audience to fill in the blanks for themselves. How did that dismembered arm end up on top of the car?
From there, the kills ramp up in intensity. Ehren is dispatched in a manner reminiscent of the death of Eddie from Friday the 13th Part V: A New Beginning. Instead of a leather strap compressing his head against a tree trunk, Johnny uses the blade of a hacksaw. The kill is shown on screen in all its bloody glory as Ehren’s head is horizontally bisected at the mouth. It’s a gory and entertaining kill, but one that horror hounds have seen the likes of before. Not long after this, Johnny collects his trademark mask, an antique firefighter mask, and his weapon of choice: two dragging hooks connected by a thick metal chain. The audience is practically salivating with anticipation
The next day, Johnny comes across amorous girlfriends Brodie and Aurora at the lake. Brodie wants to swim, a sophomoric attempt at seduction, but Aurora leaves her to practice yoga. Demonstrating his supernatural potential, Johnny submerges himself under the water and walks breathlessly across the bottom of the lake. Unseen, he drags Brodie beneath the surface, a mostly silent death punctuated by only the briefest of screams. The audience remains in full anticipation mode as Johnny emerges from the lake and follows Aurora to the top of the cliff, drag hooks in tow.
It is here, among the tranquil morning sun and dew, that we are treated to the murder set piece of the film. Aurora hears Johnny coming up the trail, mistaking his footsteps for those of Brodie. She doesn’t turn around to face him until he is already much too close. Aurora’s flight response kicks in, and she steps back, only to find herself at the edge of the cliff. Terrified, she whirls around, but Johnny is already there. He spins her away from him and effortlessly impales one of the hooks through her midsection. She spins back to face her attacker, and Johnny grabs hold of the hook emerging from Aurora’s stomach. He wastes no time in slamming the hook through the top of her skull. She spins away from him again, and Johnny grabs hold of the chain. He begins to pull. We watch as the vertebrae in her neck give way, but Johnny keeps pulling. Aurora’s body contorts into the most extreme yoga pose imaginable as her head is contorted through the gaping hole in her midsection, her face emerging from her back. Satisfied with his handiwork, Johnny kicks her body down the cliff.
Aurora’s death is truly the centerpiece of the film. It’s an adrenaline-filled, frankly unbelievable death sequence the likes of which horror fans have never seen. More squeamish members of the audience will glance away from the screen, emitting small, involuntary gasps. Meanwhile, true horror hounds will be cheering. The scene is filmed with a quickness and speed uncharacteristic of much of the rest of the film, punctuating the excitement of the over-the-top kill. “This is what you came here to see!” the filmmakers seem to exclaim.
The movie advances as more of the campers are dispatched. Aware of the lurking danger, our final two campers, Kris and Colt, narrowly escape from Johnny, heading to the ranger station by ATV. Johnny pursues, and the camera overhears as the pair receive more exposition from the ranger. This is not the first time Johnny has been resurrected; it was the ranger’s father who managed to put Johnny back into the ground last time. Johnny relentlessly approaches and, in the ensuing mayhem, Kris and Colt escape into the woods. The ranger and Johnny have their fated showdown. Johnny quickly gets the upper hand, using his inhuman strength to sever the ranger’s spinal column. The ranger immediately falls still and quiet. Although paralyzed, we know that the ranger is still alive, his eyes wildly darting from side to side. Realizing his prey is not going anywhere, Johnny lumbers away from the camera. Somewhere in the distance, an engine roars to life.
Johnny returns, takes hold of the ranger, and slowly drags him into a nearby shed, the roar of the engine growing louder and louder. Horror hounds in the audience are fully on edge for what is coming. Inside the shed, we find the source of the noise: an industrial log splitter, essentially an axe head on a powerful hydraulic press. Johnny lays the ranger to the side, the ranger’s face and eyes pointed towards the machine. The controls of the machine consist of several levers. Johnny takes hold of one — KER-CHUNK — and the hydraulic press comes to life. The log splitter slowly extends, coming into a log previously laid on the track. Slowly, slowly, slowly, the axe head progresses deeper and deeper into the wood. It’s a long and torturous sequence, particularly if you are paying attention to the eyes of the paralyzed ranger, who has no choice but to watch as the log is finally split in two.
KER-CHUNK — The log splitter slowly resets itself to the starting position.
Johnny lumbers over to the ranger. He picks up his body and drags it closer to the track. Then, he does something unexpected. Johnny doesn’t place the ranger’s body fully on the track. He simply takes one of the ranger’s arms and places it across the track. The audience shifts in their seats, and horror fans begin to come back to their senses as they realize this is not going to be a quick, exciting death. Johnny lumbers back to the controls. The camera hangs on the lever. KER-CHUNK — The log splitter slowly moves towards the ranger’s arm.
It’s a long sequence, noticeable for how incredibly quiet it is despite the deafening roar of the engine. The ranger, paralyzed, is unable to scream or thrash. He can only wait as the axe head moves ever closer to his forearm. There’s enough time that, as you’re sitting in the audience, your mind has time to wander. Well, at least the ranger can’t feel pain, you think as all of this is still unfolding on the screen. You mean well, but you also realize the thought is of little solace.
The ranger’s eyes continue to dart back and forth as the hydraulic press finally comes into contact with his arm, stalling and stuttering as it comes up against the resistance of bone. Slowly but surely, the press works its way through, separating the arm from the body. A pool of blood slowly expands beneath the machine. KER-CHUNK — Johnny resets the machine again. The camera hangs on the machine’s controls as Johnny, far down frame in the eye of the camera, moves the body again, this time placing the ranger’s head on the track.
It’s a very different set piece than Aurora’s death. It isn’t quick. It isn’t fun. It’s protracted. It’s torturous. Pointless, you might think, except for the wickedness and malice on display, which is ultimately the point. It’s a gratuitous, slow-paced, inevitable murder from which the ranger has no hope of escape or rescue. The camera lingers on the controls, the levers just there within reach, as if asking, “Could you do it? Could you pull the lever this time?”
Johnny’s hand comes into frame. KER-CHUNK — The log splitter roars to life one last time. The press again slowly advances as the ranger’s eyes continue to dart around.
“This is what you came here to see,” the filmmakers seem to say again, albeit much more calmly this time.
“Are you not entertained?”
After the Final Girl Survives
Johnny catches up with Kris and Colt in the woods. Snippets of dialogue reveal that they have a plan: they have a jug of kerosene and the locket. They just need to set up a trap and lure Johnny back to the ranger station. They’ve made too much noise, though, drawing Johnny’s attention. Colt urges Kris to go on ahead to set the trap while he distracts Johnny.
No sooner does Colt jump out from the brush than he is cut down by an axe. One loud thwack and he’s already dead. You can feel the rage within Johnny, rage that has been building the entire film, now boiling over. Thwack — he hits Colt again. Thwack — he hits him a third time. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. You lose count somewhere around the 30th hit of the axe, but Johnny shows no signs of stopping. This bloody distraction has bought Kris no time, though, as she stands frozen at the end of the trail, watching the horrific, unending maiming of Colt’s body. With every hit, her face falls further, reflecting the merciless decimation of their burgeoning love. She leaves the locket draped across the kerosene and quietly disappears into the forest.
The camera leaves Johnny now, and we follow Kris as she desperately tries to escape the forest. We alternate between following her mad scramble to escape and shots of the forest on its own. The sounds of the forest are deafening when we follow Kris’s perspective and almost completely quiet when the camera is detached. It’s a compelling juxtaposition, emphasizing the intense and overwhelming fear permeating her very core. Kris knows nothing but terror as she flees without purpose. She has no plan, her only thought that she must get away.
Kris runs the entire night until she stumbles and impales her leg on an errant branch, severely injuring herself. The light of dawn begins to break through the canopy as Kris fights to free herself. She does so, painfully, but is then able to limp her way out of the forest and onto a road. She manages to flag down a pickup truck, driven by a kindly older lady. Horror fans are immediately suspicious, perhaps expecting a twist inspired by the original Friday the 13th. We’ve overheard a lot of lore about Johnny and his father throughout the film, but suspiciously nothing about his mother.
The woman gets Kris into her truck, and they take off, ostensibly headed for the hospital. Kris is quiet, tired from the ordeal and having lost a lot of blood, and she begins to nod off. The woman does her best to keep Kris awake, trying to get a conversation going by asking Kris how she was injured. Kris tells her an animal attacked her and again begins to fall asleep.
The woman wakes Kris up again, and we hear a protracted story about her brother, a local ranger, who was mauled by a bear years ago. We know enough about the history of the White Pines at this point to doubt a bear was to blame for the attack. The conversation is labored and uncomfortable, going on far too long. The content is wholly inappropriate, really, given what the woman thinks Kris has just survived. The bear was suffering from henhouse syndrome, she tells Kris, an affliction that sometimes overtakes wild animals, causing them to kill without reason. The parallels to Johnny’s nature are not lost on us. Oddly, the conversation and the scene have been going on for far too long now. It seems like if something were going to happen, it would have happened by now.
The woman seems to realize that the conversation has veered into uncomfortable territory. “You made it out, though,” she tells Kris. “You’re going to be okay.”
The woman observes that Kris’s bleeding leg seems to be getting worse. The woman pulls the truck off to the side of the road, still surrounded by forest on both sides. Kris wakes up and begins to panic, begging the woman to continue driving. The woman gets out of the truck, opens the passenger’s door, her back fully exposed to the forest. The expanse of woods, visible to Kris over the woman’s shoulder, is impenetrable to her gaze. Anything could be lurking behind the dense brush. We can feel Kris’s trauma as her terror reaches a new crescendo, even as the woman is calmly trying to explain that she needs to put a tourniquet on Kris’s leg to slow the bleeding. Kris finally calms and agrees, and the woman is able to get to work. Not long after, the woman gets back into the truck, and they continue on their way to the hospital.
This protracted final scene brings us to an interesting thought that other slasher films rarely address. Our final girl has made it out, yes, but Kris is never going to be okay again.
In a Violent Nature is not a movie that I would recommend to most people. Its innovative visual style is a great hook (pun intended), but the deliberate lack of plot and characterization may be off-putting to more casual audiences. I also wouldn’t recommend it to most seasoned horror fans. Despite at least one thoroughly imaginative murder set piece, genre fans might find the pace of the film too slow compared to more traditional fare. Despite this, I consider In a Violent Nature to be among the best horror films I’ve seen in the last several years. It is one of the few movies that deconstructs the horror genre without relying on satire. Moreover, through all the audacity and violence, the filmmakers seem to be making a statement:
“Is this what you came to see?”
