Offseason (2022) Review

Upon receiving a mysterious letter that her mother’s grave site has been vandalized, Marie quickly returns to the isolated offshore island where her late mother is buried. When she arrives, she discovers that the island is closing for the offseason with the bridges raised until Spring, leaving her stranded. One strange interaction with the local townspeople after another, Marie soon realizes that something is not quite right in this small town. She must unveil the mystery behind her mother’s troubled past in order to make it out alive.

Writer and Director Mickey Keating is a creative known for notable work, and despite not being of mainstream standard has still made somewhat of a dependable name for himself within the horror community with the likes of Carnage Park and the underrated Psychopaths.

His newest addition into the supernatural sub-genre is Offseason, an isolated chiller that reeks of Silent Hill fanfare, with a dollop of 1998’s Phantoms and a splash of Wicker Man. Capturing some of their most basic plot devices and moulding them into a passable, albeit inept slow-burn serving of supernatural storytelling. You’ll be hard finding any originality in Offseason‘s DNA, yet not hard locating a few of the oldest tricks in the book still withstanding the test of time. Old-school always triumphs over new-school, right?

An enchanting opening credits followed by a very ominous monologue sets the tone for something foreboding, further setting the tone for what is a chillingly atmospheric next 30 minutes, even if its editing and cinematography combination feels more unintentionally disjointed than purposefully stylistic. A common conflict that juxtaposes with a narrative that would have played out with full effect if handled with more simplicity.

It’s chapter break and episodic-like format proves more distracting than effective, hindering any real opportunity of optimising its full capability of suspense needed to truly capitalise on its effectiveness.  It’s a tough meal to execute with precision, but when the ingredients and recipe is all there, yet its flavour still lacks the je ne said quoi, it’s impossible not to feel disheartened when so much potential was apparent.

As a slow burn with a jilted pace, Offseason rarely ever finds its rhythm nor its voice, crumbling under the weight of a predictable formula despite some inventive territory never fully explored. A few tense moments give Offseason the well needed chill factor it so desperately relayed on, with the museum moment and its Lovecraft-ian final act being particular highlights.

Offseason‘s overall atmospheric tone is also not without merit, juggling a handful of active questions being enough fuel to fire my interest throughout, keeping me hooked enough to unravel its mystery despite one foot always being in and the other out. It’s a fascinatingly chilling world Keating has manufactured, with just enough eerie enigma to peak enough attentiveness to follow through until its final minutes, despite never utilising its full capacity in the tension department.

With another flick under his belt, Keaton is solidifying himself as an emerging horror talent worth watching out for. Offseason may not be a TKO, but there is enough creative potential to indicate a future great – even if this one is far from his finest work.

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