Hellcat had its world premiere on July 25 as part of the Fantasia International Film Festival.

Brock Bodell’s Hellcat is immediately intense. A rickety mobile home tearing down the highway is our setting. Inside is Lena (Dakota Gorman), who wakes to the jolting movements of the vehicle the home is hitched to. Assessing her situation, she finds herself padlocked inside with nothing in her pockets. A voice over an intercom (Todd Terry) tells her that she is “infected” (in a nice touch, the voice comes through the mouth of a taxidermy wolf head). This driver, Clive, claims to have found her injured, and that he is driving her to a doctor. But the red flags quickly start to mount as Lena investigates the trailer.

My immediate thought on being presented the premise is that the title of the film was likely giving the twist away, or that the title was a red herring. In either case, I would have preferred the lack of clarity that the film dropped me into. There is enough ambiguity to what is going on—until the halfway point introduces a paranormal radio host that just comes out and says what’s about to happen.

Hellcat is compelling, and it moves. Most of the plot is conjured by the conversations between Lena and the driver, but the story is structured to reveal new information just before things grow monotonous. It doesn’t hurt that Bodell cares about the internal logic of his characters and adds emotional thrust to their motivations. This works better, surprisingly, in the case of the initially disembodied voice of Clive than it does for Lena. Both characters are wounded by loss, and the glimpses we see of Lena’s past is less well-rounded than the things we hear from Clive.

One of the film’s most poignant moments involves Clive describing his late wife and how, through their bond, she gave him an identity. A character that in most other films would be painted with a broad brush as hysterical, conspiratorial, or plain evil is instead given this important human layer: most people don’t lose their way out of nowhere. Clive introduces himself to Lena by calling himself a “good man.” It is only later that we realize what that label means to him, and how difficult it is for him to convince himself that he actually is a good person. The entire film would likely read perfunctory, as a means to a horror-themed end, were it not for the characterization of Clive.

While much of the film’s action is trapped inside the tight confines of the trailer, Bodell adds flashes that bring visual depth, externalizations of Lena’s thoughts. One of the first shots in the film is great: a tracking shot pulling back to isolate Lena in a tiny frame within the cinema frame. There is great audio foley, as well (the stretching leather of a makeshift tourniquet gave me a visceral reaction).

The film’s final moments take a swing, and I am of two minds on it. For one, the attempt is bold and it gives the characters some nice resolution. But it also did not function tonally for me as intended, mainly because of some effects work and the prolonged sequence that leads up to it. My knee-jerk reaction to what is meant to be a somber and heartfelt coda was to focus on the absurdity of this natural conclusion to the film’s premise.

What elevates Hellcat more than anything else are the small cast of performers. Gorman is obviously the standout, as she carries over three quarters of the screentime. And Terry, whose character is initially presented as fairly one-note, brings a decent amount of gravitas to the role.

Hellcat: B

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As always, thanks for reading!

—Alex Brannan (Letterboxd, Facebook)