THE STORY – Twentysomething Anna (Alexandra McVicker) leaves her small, transphobic hometown to start a new life in the city with her sister when she quickly finds herself face-to-face with Gen (Avalon Fast), a confident young woman she’d first seen in visions. Gen, Anna learns, has supernatural powers – powers that the two of them share. Their bond of magic and romance is threatened when Gen inadvertently unleashes a demon in Danny (Jordan Dulieu), Anna’s one-time fling and neighbor, and the mysterious evil begins targeting – and feeding on – everyone close to them.
THE CAST – Alexandra McVicker, Avalon Fast, Jordan Dulieu, Scott Major & Charlotte Chimes
THE TEAM – Alice Maio Mackay (Director/Writer) & Benjamin Pahl Robinson (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 85 Minutes
“The Serpent’s Skin” wastes no time fully announcing itself. In the opening credits, it declares itself “A Transgender Film by Alice Maio Mackay.” On the surface, this is obviously because its central character, director, and other members of the cast and crew are trans individuals. But the way the film’s themes and narrative revolve around ideas of change, discovery, and moving away from a former version of oneself also lends credence to this self-categorization. As depicted in the film, such journeys aren’t always smooth. To change requires a split from the past, which is rarely a simple or painless accomplishment. But a full realization of the purely true self is always worthwhile, even if it means altering nearly every aspect of one’s life. “The Serpent’s Skin” is a swirling, captivating look at the difficulties and beauty of self-actualization, told through an off-the-wall horror approach, enveloped in cozy retro aesthetics.
Our heroine is Anna (Alexandra McVicker), a young trans woman who escapes her hostile Australian hometown for a new life in the city. She crashes with her sister, Dakota (Charlotte Chimes), and quickly finds a job at a local record store. Things seem to be looking up for Anna, until she experiences flare-ups of strange hallucinogenic visions that she calls “daymares.” On her first day at her new job, these “daymares” start to serve a purpose as Anna thwarts a would-be robber thanks to her unexpected psychic abilities. Drawn together across the supernatural plane, she meets Gen (Avalon Fast), a tattoo artist with similar powers. She begins training Anna to harness her extrasensory potential, and the two forge a bond that soon becomes romantic.
But as they always do in movies like this, the witchy pair’s idyllic telekinetic courtship is quickly interrupted. People around them start being turned into soulless husks, as if their personalities were sucked out of their bodies. Matters escalate when bodies start piling up, putting Anna and Gen on a path for revenge as they seek to find the source of this unnatural terror.
Anna and Gen’s psychic powers are depicted in a charmingly simple manner, evoking the special effects of the era of “The Craft” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” And it’s not just the film’s magical elements that feel like a throwback. The overall look of the film is reminiscent of fantastical films and TV shows popular around the turn of the century; think candles, curtains, and camerawork unafraid of color. Fascinatingly, Mackay wasn’t even around for the heyday of these types of entertainment, as she was born in 2004. Clearly, she has an affection for this era of imagemaking, and it complements her film’s story perfectly.
But the film’s aesthetic isn’t solely concerned with evoking nostalgia. Cinematographer Aaron Schuppan’s camerawork is fantastic, stretching the limitations of what must’ve been a fairly low budget. One-shot frames Gen as she tattoos a client, an industry-standard ring light above her head like a halo, subtly but impressively reminding us that she’s a guiding light for both Anna and viewers. The lighting throughout the film is bright and dreamy, and not too different from the way that LA is portrayed in “Mulholland Drive” (another dreamlike film about a small-town girl who finds herself drawn to a mysterious brunette in a new city).
Alexander Taylor and Eduardo Daniel Victoria’s musical score is similarly evocative, making heavy use of strings, which would be right at home in “Vertigo.” Fans of weirdo queer cinema (so essentially, the target audience for this film) will spot a familiar name in the opening credits: Vera Drew, who, to use the parlance of the credits, cut the film. The director of “The People’s Joker” brings a similarly trippy energy to the film’s edit as she did to her acclaimed debut feature. Here, she’s particularly fond of crossfades and double exposures, effectively putting audiences in the fantastical, occasionally hallucinogenic headspace of its characters. Director Mackay clearly did an excellent job conveying her vision to her collaborators and colleagues, as every technical and craft element works perfectly in harmony with the story being told.
Alexandra McVicker makes for a captivating central character in her performance as Anna. She’s extremely sympathetic, thanks to the difficult life that she’s shown fleeing at the start of the film, and McVicker emphasizes her quiet sadness without becoming too morose. At the same time, Anna is impulsive, and her willingness to go with the flow of the moment leads her to make a batch of friends in her new city quickly. McVicker underplays Anna’s occasionally paradoxical choices, making the introspective character’s spontaneous decisions feel organic and exciting. As Anna’s new flame and guide to the world of witchcraft, Avalon Fast gives a totally enthralling performance. She’s headstrong and honest, drawing both Anna and the audience into the film’s supernatural realm.
As the pair gets closer and closer to the truth of what’s terrorizing those around them, the film starts to waver on shaky narrative ground. The danger they’re facing is hard to get a full read on; the metaphorical nature of the threat is interesting thematically, but doesn’t fully gel with the storytelling approach. This leads to a climax that’s purely strange, and not necessarily in the intentionally, proudly bizarre way of the rest of the film. Still, with a movie like “The Serpent’s Skin,” the accomplishments of the whole outweigh the nitpicks of its parts. The vibe is so, so right. Anyone looking for an empowering, forward-thinking, and trippy watch will feel right at home slipping into this movie’s, well, skin. It’s quite literally spellbinding.
