Blood Summer (1993) (USA)

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A Florida trailer park is visited by a Devil-masked killer with a penchant for butchering some real Florida 10s. Why? Well, it’s Florida. You can just chalk it up to America’s wang continuing the motions its participated in since before recorded time. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with the young man who suddenly decides to cut his own thumb off. He is Floridian so you can still trace it back to the Sunshine State’s hypnotic hold over anyone who claims residency there. Mike cuts the thumb off and are narrator lethargically speaks to the camera, letting us know this is how it all started. His friends call the cops and one reassures their pet fish that everything is gonna be alright. The preferred breakfast of Florida residents is PCP, so this all checks. A couple ladies decide to throw a party and invite the whole trailer park, intense music akin to the amazing disco soundtrack from Friday the 13th Part 3 plays over mundane bro hangs, Florida driving, a trip to the supermarket and continuing reassurances about being friends. “Deep” dialogue about flowers immediately follows an introduction to a small pot farm and rent collection leads to the proverbial “fuck you” from the shirtless old man not all that concerned about the landlord’s son trying to get the money owed. A girl has her throat slit, trailer park drama is explained over an unconvincing phone call and turned down hang session ends with a bathroom freak out. Matthew Samuel Smith harnessed something in his muffled audio and sun-washed visuals that transports a simple SOV slasher flick into a strange nightmare realm that feels time-stamped but in a pocket of time that exists vibrating just outside of our actual reality. That’s Florida injecting itself into the creative process and spreading the regional infection. It’s been doing it for years and it’s always worth it.