From Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later to Scorsese’s Shutter Island, some of the most entertaining genre films are made by established directors attempting to challenge themselves by trying something new. Mostly known for his indie comedies, Kevin Smith might not be the first name that comes to mind when one thinks of legitimately chilling movies, but I’d argue that his 2011 thriller Red State is proof that the director has more up his sleeve than vulgar humor and comic-book references. Now that the film is celebrating its 10th anniversary, and with Smith set to return to horror with the Creepshow-inspired Kilroy Was Here, I think this is the perfect time to look back on his surprisingly effective take on religious terror.
If you haven’t seen it, Red State follows a group of teenagers who drive out to meet an older woman after being enticed with the promise of group sex. Naturally, the arrangement turns out to be a trap, and the teens find themselves kidnapped by the Five Points Trinity Church, an extremist Christian sect hell-bent on making an example out of these young sinners. Meanwhile, the authorities are alerted to the church’s suspicious actions and decide to pay a visit, with the investigation soon escalating into all-out carnage in an unpredictable thriller.
There’s a lot more to the film than this setup, with the story heading into unexpected directions as bodies begin to pile and the situation becomes more desperate. In fact, Red State‘s constantly evolving script means that it feels like a different movie every 15 minutes, even making you question who’s the real protagonist and making it impossible to predict where this bonkers plot is headed as it defies genre expectations. The movie can go from Hostel to The Wicker Man without a second’s notice, and that manic energy is precisely what makes it so entertaining.
Kevin Smith at his most versatile.
Like most of Smith’s output, Red State undeniably has a sense of (mostly dark) humor, with moments like Sheriff Wynan’s near-slapstick levels of incompetence and the general absurdity of watching middle-aged church-folk arming themselves with assault rifles, but it’s certainly not a comedy. These brief laughs are mostly used to establish character traits and keep viewers on their toes as they anticipate the next disturbing scene. This general weirdness and the breakneck pacing might not be to everyone’s liking, but I see it as the film’s greatest strength, allowing Smith to play around with genre tropes in new and exciting ways
Despite the overall insanity, it’s clear that the director is borrowing from real world horrors when telling this eerie fable, taking inspiration from notorious figures like Jim Jones and Fred Phelps while also referencing infamous events like the Waco siege of ’93. Even back in 2011, Smith intended to show how excessive publicity can push some of these far-right groups to even more heinous acts, which is something that would only get worse in the following years with the rise of social media politics and fake news.
The believable script isn’t Red State‘s only asset, with Smith taking a lo-fi approach to filmmaking that only enhances the story’s chaotic elements. Featuring messy digital photography and quick and dirty cuts mostly done on the spot (as the director edited most of the movie during shooting), the film makes you feel like you’re really trapped alongside these characters in a terrifying and confusing situation. It was also mostly shot in sequence, allowing performances to escalate naturally from an acting perspective.
Speaking of acting, John Goodman stands out with his portrayal of a jaded federal agent who’s been ordered to silence all witnesses, and Michael Angarano, Nicholas Braun and Kyle Gallner make for a charming trio of fun-loving teenagers. However, there’s no denying that Michael Parks‘ fanatical Abin Cooper is the main attraction here, lighting up the screen with his compelling fire-and-brimstone sermons and a fatherly demeanor in a performance that highlights just how easy it is to fall into cults of personality. Channeling real world preachers (with some inspiration from fascist leaders for added flavor), Parks is equally charming and imposing as the leader of this deadly community, and you understand why his followers are ready to die for his beliefs. It’s no wonder that Smith would once again partner up with the late actor in the underrated Tusk, which features another powerhouse performance by Parks.
Church versus State.
Having grown up in an extremely religious household, I can appreciate how Smith perfectly encapsulates the dangers of cult-like thinking and how these groups can become an echo chamber of hatred when they’re convinced that their harmful beliefs are morally justified. Having the government’s incompetent response escalate the situation into something worse actually makes Red State more believable. The movie’s even more relevant now than it was back in 2011, with online outrage culture making these communities louder and more dangerous.
Kevin Smith is no stranger to religious controversy, especially after Dogma sparked outrage from several religious groups back in ’99, and Red State was no different. A small group of Westboro Baptist Church members even showed up to protest the premiere only to be mocked by the director, who joined in on the fun. Of course, the film’s religious elements were even more pronounced in the original script, which featured an even crazier deus ex machina once heavenly trumpets interrupt the climactic showdown. While the finished film ends on an ironic coincidence, Smith initially meant for the film to conclude with the literal apocalypse. While that might have been a step too far, it’s still fun to imagine a wilder cut of this already-bonkers picture.
At the end of the day, Red State isn’t a perfect movie, suffering from bizarre tonal shifts and a few action sequences that could have benefited from a larger budget, but it’s still a terrifying exploration of weaponized faith and a refreshing change of pace for Kevin Smith as an artist. While the film might not fulfill the horrific promises of its first act, it remains a unique example of religious horror that’s even more thrilling 10 years down the line.
