I’ve always had a soft spot for sci-fi and horror anthologies. From The Twilight Zone to Creepshow, Monsters and Black Mirror, there’s something irresistible about a short story that starts innocently enough before spiralling into absolute madness. V/H/S/Mixtape understands that appeal, delivering a gloriously schlocky collection of stomach-turning gore and gut-busting laughs.
The latest instalment in SHUDDER‘s revived V/H/S found-footage horror franchise, V/H/S/Mixtape features a series of shorts exploring the relationship between sound and terror.
With heavy-metal shock-art troupe GWAR providing colourful interludes between the stories, the film rarely takes itself too seriously.
Dance, Dance, Dance, Dance gets things off to a delightfully unsettling start, turning a seemingly innocent children’s puppet show, much like Candle Cove, into something straight out of a nightmare. Featuring ’80s horror icon Barbara Crampton, the short’s elaborately decorated workshop and disturbing VHS recordings set the stage for a hilariously gory puppet rampage. The climactic chase scene and final coup de grâce evoke the survival horror of the Five Nights at Freddy’s games, heightened by some striking giallo-style lighting. The inventive use of found footage, especially when the puppets get their hands on the camera, makes it the anthology’s highlight.
Another Cabin, filmmaker and musician Flying Lotus‘s second contribution to the franchise, takes a different approach. Unfolding like a macabre gothic storybook, its dark claymation reminds me of Tim Burton‘s animated works. Lotus’s score, the isolated woodland cabin and unnerving creature give the short a nightmarish atmosphere. It’s a refreshing visual departure from the anthology’s more conventional found-footage shorts.
Heartbeat follows a group of urban explorers into an anechoic chamber, creating an anxiety-inducing experience reminiscent of Cube. Unfortunately, the irritating influencer personalities make it difficult to sympathise with the characters, ultimately making it one of the weaker films.
The Music of Mr. Sze follows a young student filmmaker documenting his experiences while staying in a rundown apartment building, where the peculiar residents and surroundings create a surreal, almost otherworldly impression of Eastern Europe. An ordinary documentary gradually descends into a bizarre Lovecraftian nightmare. With its eerie atmosphere, campy horror and extravagant gore, it’s easily one of the anthology’s standout entries.
Premature Burial takes the form of a grimy, old-school death-metal music video, featuring music from Repugnant, the former band of Ghost frontman Tobias Forge. With its retro 4:3 aspect ratio and raw underground-metal aesthetic, it wouldn’t feel out of place on an early-’90s episode of MTV’s Headbangers Ball. The result is a particularly nasty tale of revenge, culminating in some nicely restrained splatter effects.
RZA‘s Death Tone explores the disturbing idea of using recordings of torture and murder to create music. It’s a wonderfully twisted premise, accompanied by some suitably gruesome effects, but the occasionally unconvincing performances and dialogue, clunky exposition and questionable camera logic undermine an otherwise promising short.
Rather than sticking strictly to found footage like earlier V/H/S films, Mixtape plays out like a deranged late-night cable TV broadcast. Switching between grainy VHS horror, gothic animation, heavy-metal music videos and GWAR’s sketches, the film feels like a showcase of strange recordings unearthed from the franchise’s archives. It’s an eclectic mixture of filmmaking styles, held together by a shared fascination with sound, practical effects and absurd humour.
GWAR’s wraparound skits combine their grotesque costumes, juvenile humour and ridiculous visual gags. From a show hosted by an alien-barbarian in his mother’s bedroom, which looks like some demented Pee-wee’s Playhouse set, to a heavy-metal Olivia Newton-John-esque workout montage, their interludes provide welcome comic relief while loosely echoing themes to come.
While some segments might leave a bad taste in your mouth, the sheer variety of visual styles, imaginative horror and outrageous humour make for one wildly entertaining mixtape. Wilhelm scream hunters should also keep an ear out.
Despite a few uneven entries, I think V/H/S/Mixtape is a great addition to the franchise. With GWAR taking on the role of deranged television presenters, the film offers a playful new spin on the familiar anthology formula. It’s a messy celebration of schlock, dark humour and stomach-churning spectacle that proves horror doesn’t always need to take itself seriously to be effective. It’s a bloody good time for splatter fans but certainly not for the squeamish.
4.7 GWARs out of 5.
Michael Chiodo 
Bryana McGowan 
Audrey James