Faceless After Dark

This is the kind of work that could make horror recognized as high art.

Makes things entertaining in a crazy way.

Wood's stylized touches don't make up for the thin plotting and nonexistent characterization.

Perhaps its hamartia is that it wishes to don too many masks, where only some aspects work at the expense of others, and Kanell’s raw, unhinged turn as Bowie is not enough to salvage the haphazard vision embedded forcefully into the narrative.

Sometimes, in film, the messages can get blurry, and that’s what happens in Faceless After Dark. Surfaced as a story about the toxicity of fandom, it quickly turns into something much more.

It would be vulgar to suggest that [it] exists only to fictionalize some element of the artist’s... existence, but [instead] it’s a unique injunction on representing horrific images

A smart, stylish exploration of psychological turmoil, exploitation, and “good-for-her” revenge fantasy. It has something meaningful to say, but it never loses sight of its primary directive: to entertain the hell out of you, which it does in spades.

But as a showcase for Kanell’s charisma, and an often satisfying reaction to the rampant misogyny in cinema and particularly in fan culture, it’s fun.

"Faceless After Dark" is fury made manifest and captured on digital, using the language of horror to decry the symbiotic relationship that exists between artist and audience.

Faceless After Dark is a subpar slasher that clumsily wields social commentary within the world of a murky lead character.