Synopsis
As the world faces a deadly plague, a parasitologist wakes up imprisoned in a tiny, spherical containment pod and must figure out who placed her there and why.
2020 Directed by Seth A. Smith
As the world faces a deadly plague, a parasitologist wakes up imprisoned in a tiny, spherical containment pod and must figure out who placed her there and why.
Mid/pre-parasitical fungalocalypse. Inside the context is bio-mech claustrophobia; inverted metal isopods of wires and tubes extending into the body and sustaining and cleansing it. Sheer metaphorical and literal suffocation with unknown colour codes and body-smothering fungus slime and 6 inches of skin water. It then escapes into an industrial symphony of drone and alien bio-fungal-bio-mech slow strobes and nightmare visuals glacially dragging you into a terror of jarring unease and roboto-demigods that scrape you across the floor and into spinning and geometric disorientating fates that you don't know the specifics of until it's too late. Like Cronenberg on research chemicals. This will click perfectly with a certain brand of people, even though it didn't know when to end which is my only complaint.
Tin Can is a sci-fi horror film following a front-lines parasitologist who is imprisoned in a life-suspension chamber as the world faces a deadly plague. To escape she must destroy the last of her kind.
I feel like the easiest thing to do whilst reviewing any film with body horror these days is to call it Cronenbergian but seriously… this is very Cronenberg. Tin Can starts off with a very cool 80s style opening titles sequence and goes on to be a very impressive, very ambitious and very engaging slow burning sci-fi horror film that knows exactly how to pull you in to its haunting word. The excellent visuals are reminiscent of the likes of 2001: A Space Odyssey, The…
Fantasia 2021, Feature #3
Man, I was fully on board with this film tonally from the get go. And I do mean right from the opening frames with its unique title design and hypnotic sound scape. It immediate told me I was in the hands of a filmmaker who cared about the details along with the whole experience of the film. I was not disappointed or let down at any point along the journey.
Right off the top Tin Can grabbed my attention with it’s bold graphic title design and evocative score. It proclaimed to me this was going to be a unique journey. One that will be well thought out and worth my time. It…
BUT 2021 Film 10
Noch so ein Brett - Endzeit und endstylisch, mysteriöser Slowburner, geometrisches Kino, großartiger Body Horror, epische Bilder, auch wenn ich es nicht komplett gecheckt hab (oder gerade deswegen) neuer Festivalfavorit.
The first hour of this is just exceptional, and then it really loses its steam.
Seth A. Smith's Tin Can is an unabashedly weird bit of science fiction, escalating its eccentricity twice, more or less to the point of abstraction. The ironic result is that a flashback to a thoroughly conventional series of events is almost the thing that causes a viewer to have momentary trouble suspending their disbelief. Sure, one might say, I'll buy all that other stuff, but are we really going to have something this big turn on that? That's not a complaint; that's a sign that a movie has rewired what one finds possible but good.
In the near future, there's a new pandemic, this one mostly contained to eastern Canada and involving a fungal infection. Fret (Anna Hopkins) and John…
Seth A. Smith's previous feature The Crescent was one of the most fascinating horror films of the last several years, a chilly take on seaside horror with a unique visual hook, an incredible score by Smith, and one huge make-or-break swing that to me damn near made it a modern classic. Overall I was iffy on it when I first caught it on the festival circuit, but the more I've thought about it in the years since its release I've really come around to loving it. And needless to say, I've been anxiously awaiting Smith's next feature.
Tin Can totally lived up to my expectations, although as I suspected I did feel like it ran too long at 105 minutes.…
This Cronenbergian Lo-Fi Sci-Fi nightmarescape may be a little rough around the edges, but it is elevated by its unique art direction and moments of body horror that were viscerally unpleasant (in a good way). The plot, which is drip-fed to the audience through non-linear flashbacks, takes a little effort to unravel but is intriguing enough to warrant a second viewing or two to ease any confusion.
I'm always iffy about going into movies that are about someone confined to a small space the entire time because... what could be interesting about that?
Although the character wakes up in a tin can, it's at least sprinkled with a few flashback episodes that gradually connect some dots, but they have a very... flashback-y vibe. And she's not confined the whole time, but I was still wasn't getting into the rest of the film, it's a bit too dystopic for me with all the robot-like people. Cool makeup effects though.
I wasn't sure what to expect going into this one but was surprised by a very effective body horror flick. Some great makeup and production design, grounded by an excellent performance by Anna Hopkins.
Overall I felt it was strong, stressful and compelling, even if some elements can feel a little similar to Doctor Who's Cybermen