By RACHEL REEVES
In Russell Owen’s latest film, SHEPHERD, atmosphere is everything. Like the dreary fog that ebbs and flows about the film’s frame, Owen’s haunting tale captivates with eerie ease and chills down to the bone. Written and directed by Owen, the film feels wonderfully and inextricably linked to his North Wales upbringing. Akin to classic British ghost stories from Susan Hill, M.R. James, or Jonathan Aycliffe, SHEPHERD is a simple tale executed exceptionally well.
Drenched in dread from beginning to end, Owen uses every filmmaking tool in the box to craft a truly stunning, beautifully bleak, and stoic cinematic excursion. At its core, the story of SHEPHERD revolves around grief and the complicated feelings of guilt that sometimes accompany it. In the lead, Tom Hughes (Victoria) stars as grief-stricken widower, Eric Black. Unable to properly cope and heal from the loss of his wife, Rachel (Gaia Weiss), and their unborn child, Eric takes a job on a remote Scottish island as the sole caretaker of a herd of sheep. Well, almost. His totally adorable dog, Baxter, is along for the journey as well.
Suffering a complicated relationship with his mother on top of losing his wife, Eric hopes a change of scenery and self-isolation will offer him some emotional respite. However, Eric soon realizes that he will find no such safe harbor here. Guided to the island by the mysterious Fisher (The Witch‘s Kate Dickie), her vague riddles and ominous phrases only further confuse and unsettle the situation. Accompanied only by Baxter, it’s not long before Eric finds himself haunted by much more than guilt and grief. As the island seems to feed off Eric’s pain, mysterious visions, menacing specters, dreadful nightmares, and an extremely spooky lighthouse terrorize Eric while forcing him to reckon with his personal truth.
Gorgeously captured by cinematographer Richard Stoddard (Sometimes Always Never), the landscape of SHEPHERD sends awe-filled shivers through the screen. Terrifyingly vast and almost unbelievably exquisite, the weight of Eric’s self-induced isolation resonates. Visceral and textured, there is a palpable chill that rides across the terrain and injects the story with a biting chill and stinging sadness. It is this remarkable sense of place that ultimately strengthens Eric’s story and reinforces the nightmarish scares with extraordinary efficacy.
Working in tandem with the film’s backdrop is the nerve-rattling score and powerful sound design from Callum Donaldson. Echoing off the hills and sonically soaking to the core, Donaldson’s music gives both strength and tension to the film’s myriad scares. Triggering both Eric and the audience alike, the island’s natural powers marry with screeching strings and reverberating bursts of sound to blur the lines between the two sonic responsibilities. With the dialogue and pacing requiring a more patient, engaged viewer, it is often these aural cues that demand attention and push the narrative forward.
As Eric, Tom Hughes shines with his moody disposition and deliberate execution. Believably tortured, the gradual and subtle build within Eric becomes fraught with tension and terror. Slowly worn down by the island’s shrieking winds and potent powers, the truth of Eric’s story starts to seep out from the cracks in his mind. Teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown, the reality of the haunting visions and sinister occurrences gets called into question on both sides of the screen. Perfectly paired with the talents of Kate Dickie, Fisher’s brand of hardened cynicism and vaulted secrets stands in stark contrast to Eric’s strained competency.
A slow burn by any measure, SHEPHERD is not a movie for everyone. Despite holding certain narrative cards close to the vest and some true WTF moments of visual terror (including some horrific animal mutilation), there’s an undeniably calculated, purposeful restraint in how the information is conveyed. With that, there’s something earnestly refreshing about a simple, spooky story. In an era in which big-budget, high-concept movies often hog the box office spotlight it’s a brave and admirable feat to produce something so quietly affecting and genuinely unnerving.
SHEPHERD is available via Saban Films on VOD. Read our interview with director Russell Owen and star Tom Hughes here.
