Jeff Daniel Phillips’s “Cursed in Baja” on Blu-ray!
Ex-narcotics cop Pierlli is now a formerly incarcerated, rehabilitated man after suffering a mental breakdown from discovering the love of his life dead during a drug-fueled, kidnapping ordeal that sent him spiraling rogue. Listless under medication and dragging his feet through the motions of a low paying maintenance man and janitorial job, Pierlli is contacted by his lover’s wealthy, depressed and dying parents to investigate and track down the disappearance of their grandson. Reluctant to fall back into psychological swirl of pandemonium, he agrees to the case that leads him to Mexico despite the grandfather’s warnings of unsavory unlawful dealings with criminals . After a few interviews with the grandson’s known associates, gathered by previous detectives who have since disappeared, he’s able to locate the now young man, living in cohabitation with a peculiar pair of outlying summoners who sacrifice the unwelcomed to a native beast of the land, a vicious chupacabra.
Out from under the cinematic and musical thumb the Rob Zombie rockabilly show, Jeff Daniel Phillips emerges with a project his shocking rocking collaborator and friend is not attached to in any way, shape, or form. “Curse in Baja” is Phillips’s sophomore feature-length film in over a decade since the 2009 jailhouse thriller “Convict,” starring Kevin Durand, and too like his debut film, Phillips also provides the screenplay for the 2024 film that’s described as crime noir meets surrealist horror from Los Angeles to Tijuana. “Curse in Baja” is a Camp Lee and Indigo Vision production with Kent Isaacs coproducing with Phillips as well as having a role and the revitalized Anchor Bay Entertainment execs Brian Katz and Thomas Zambeck supplying financials in support to release the movie on home video, co-presented with Traverse Terror, a company we’ve seen light of recently and covered films with “Bag of Lies” being the most recent.
Phillips not only produces, writes, and directs, he also stars as the troubled Pierlli, opening up his introduction in a non-linear fashion under a character self-describing, self-loathing voiceover narration revolving around the woman he fell for, hinting at her forlorn fate, his own transgressions stemmed for lost, and how belittled his once formidable self has become after being released from prison. Inner monologuing picks up here-and-there where narrative leaves off in a quasi-glint of personal elucidation about the characters and situations he finds himself amid, troubleshooting his own inners demons that could destroy him if he goes down the rabbit hole of grief again. Yet, besides Pierlli’s vague thoughts and descriptions, characters brought not the fold have a prefabrication establishment that’s already patched them into narrative blanket and, for audiences, understanding these characters and see where they piece into the noir pie becomes very dense and chewy, tough to work out their role because much of the backstory is loaded into the chamber before viewers can digest everything mentioned in Pierlli’s opening narration of elongated events. Jim Storm (“Trilogy of Terror”) and Constance Forslund (John Carpenter’s “Village of the Damned”) are tragic-saturated grandparents who will do anything to find their grandson, but their subtle persona richness filled with terminal illness, alcoholism, grief stricken, and a sordid past is greatly deprecated by little involvement in the rest of the story and their unexplained bad history in the network of how things came to be how they are now. Instead, their retained lawyer (Mark Fite) has more skin and dialogue in the game of tracking down the grandson, played by the front man Finnegan Seeker Bell of alternative rock band Love Ghost in another character that’s spotty being sensical. Kent Isaacs as a chupacabra keeper, Jacqueline Wright as a dancing evoker of the beast, Jacely Fuentes as a double dipping girlfriend, and Jose Conejo Martin as a Mexican music mogul and hardcore gangster, too, had shapelessness around defining themselves in character to serve what is a fever dream of past guilt and present lore clashing into a surreal tailspin from Pierlli’s visceral viewpoint. The only character I could truly make sense and understand is “Re-Animator’s” Barbara Crampton’s short-stint warden role.
I get “Cursed in Baja” is an indie production with nearly a zero-dollar budget and limited, on-hand advantages. I get Jeff Daniel Phillips has a knack for the obscure, the off-putting, and the odd. I get horror is subjective and you make what you get out of it. With all that being said, “Cursed in Baja” doesn’t speak to me on a level I can fully appreciate, understand, or decipher through the opaque narrative stuck in its own adrift design. Aspects of the nonlinear course and often repeating multiple same scenes doesn’t beat one down into following along but there’s also a rhythm that does denote Pierlli’s neurosis. Though chaotic at times, Marc Cohen’s editing captures Pierlli’s agitational anarchy that plagues his nightmares and splits his reality seemingly down the middle of an already drug-and-crime fuel Mexicali affair the ex-con and lawman tries desperate not to repeat, but like any good sage person will tell you, we’re all given the opportunity to repeat dooming ourselves and relive past mistakes. That’s Pierlli’s Pandora’x box and his Achillies heel, no matter how much he attempts to deflect himself out of the physically crippling investigation, he must sally forth again to find answers for the love he let down. If he doesn’t, that do-nothing stagnation will ultimately destroy him faster. I’m sure there are merits to Phillips’ first feature in over a decade, but “Curse in Baja” is all over the place, missing key interlocking points of the nomadic concepts to cement better coherency when switching gears between genres.
Anchor Bay’s third film of the first three releases released by the revitalized company by Brian Katz and Thomas Zambeck, “Cursed in Baja” receives exclusive at-home video rights with an AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, BD25. The single layer is all this story requires with low-impact, mostly psychological thriller that relies heavily on Marc Cahon’s overlapping fade in-fade out and rough-cut, around-again editing to shoulder the burden of entertaining with Pierlli’s meandering mental melancholy. The compressed image quality provides no qualms for a standard, under-bedazzled indie production in widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio. Color saturation varies depending on toggling contrast levels, likely a result of the when-we-can shoot scenes methodology of low budget films. Blacks are not as deep as desired but there’s no signs of artefacts in the void and that suppresses any of kind of resentment toward a lighter shade of the grayscales darker side. The audio comes with an English Dolby Digital 5.1 surround mix. Though lossy, the format retains consistency in a rather heavily vague gumshoe of exposition with not too much crime centric and chupacabra chomping bytes to make or break the fidelity. Dialogue is clean in voiceover as well as in-scene with a favorable soundscape under Vaaal’s eclectic clouded haunt of industrial and discordant string. English subtitles are optional. Special features are limited to feature length commentary by Jeff Daniel Phillips and a making-of featurette with Phillips walking through a shooting location and discussing his ventured process. The Amaray case sports a grindhouse cover art character compilation with no other physical attributes included. The 80-minute, unrated feature is encoded with region free playback.
Last Rites: Jeff Daniel Phillips’s personal stick-and-glue “Cursed in Baja” works to a point off of the auteur’s ambition and who’s in his back pocket network of talented friends eager to lend their niche or locations to create noir delirium a la mode.
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