The Head Hunter is a 2019 fantasy horror film about a medieval warrior’s gruesome collection of heads and his hunt for the monster that killed his daughter years ago.
There’s a kind of garish beauty in the minimalist and brutal style of director and co-writer Jordan Downey‘s latest heavy sword epic The Head Hunter, a visceral action story with few words that piece together a small but decidedly decisive little experience that earns kudos for its dedication to the plot and commitment from the very small cast. It certainly has its flaws and ends up being a little unsustainable, but there is something to be said for the elegant story and the unusual journey.
A gruff, bearded man, unnamed throughout (Christopher Rygh), sits in the snow-laden forest waiting, watching the trees and listening through the crisp air for something new. Behind him, in a small lean-to, a frail little girl (Cora Kaufman) calls him father. He’s soon drawn to growls off camera and saunters out of sight. He returns moments later, his blade soaked in blood. We soon learn he is a hunter and sports a growing collection of beastly heads. Now living alone, his daughter dead, he seeks the monster that slew her.
It’s medieval times, somewhere in the dense forests and our hero is isolated, Rygh almost on film alone for the entirety of the film, rarely speaking, but awash in dense story. Isolated in his small shabby shed, he seems alive only for vengeance, to rid the woods of demons lurking in the spaces between the trunks. Beefed up in all kinds of leathery and metal bits of armor and weapons of steel, he is, to the nearby castle shrouded in fog, a kind of superhero, called to action by the bellow of a horn (the equivalent of a Bat Signal), sending him galloping into the dark to slay ghouls and nightmare creatures.
For the most part, we never see these battles, the man always waiting and then returning, mounting another bloodied skull to his gruesome wall, forced to tend to the deeply wounded flesh of his own. He is a man soured to the core by his singular mission, his urine a thick pool of black goo that pains him to release.
Obviously, there is much lore behind this metaphorical tale, and Downey does best in keeping the small setting authentic. From his opening shot to the slow pans and cutaways, The Head Hunter feels authentic, bound to a lonely hero on a struggle to rid the land of evil, a cowardly people always hidden, depending on him to do so. His sacrifice runs deep.
Stangely, the more we learn though, the less it engages, the mystery far more interesting than the exposition that eventually comes. When the man finally does speak, it doesn’t feel right, seemingly breaking a trust the story and the audience have become bound to. Fortunately, he’s doesn’t much, leaving us to scour the corners of the screen for clues. That’s fun.
The Head Hunter is a smart film when it experiments, Downey using innovate visuals to tell the story, often challenging viewers to make decision about what’s on screen. However, even at 72 minutes, it begins to lose momentum though its finale completes a circle that might surprise those not watching carefully. It surely raises a few questions. Still, I applaud Downey and co-writer Kevin Stewart for doing something different and Rygh for his strong performance. The Head Hunter is a film that most won’t give a chance or embrace its intents. I recommended you do.