Meta-Murder Mystery: Clever Concept Loses Its Way in the Desert

The opening shot of The Resurrection of Charles Manson is a close-up of a camcorder’s red recording light, blinking like a sinister eye in the dark. It’s an apt metaphor for director Remy Grillo’s low-budget horror-thriller, which never quite decides whether it wants to be a meta-commentary on society’s morbid fascination with Charles Manson or just another cheap jump-scare factory.

The film follows Grace (Sarah Dumont) and Lucas Williams (Will Peltz), a couple who take a last-minute desert vacation to work on an audition tape for a biopic about the infamous cult leader. The premise is intriguing—a commentary on how media reimagines real-life horrors—but Grillo’s execution is uneven. The first act lingers too long on mundane setup, forcing tension where there should be natural dread. The script, credited to Brev Moss and Josh Plasse, struggles to balance character development with its meta-narrative ambitions.

Where The Resurrection of Charles Manson finds its footing is in its atmospheric moments. The desert setting, shot in stark, golden hues, creates a claustrophobic tension that lingers even when the plot stumbles. A standout sequence involves Grace and Lucas discovering cryptic messages hidden within their audition footage—a clever play on found-footage tropes that should have been expanded upon. The film’s sound design also deserves mention; the eerie silence of the desert, punctuated by distant coyote howls and the static hum of their camcorder, builds an unsettling atmosphere.

The performances are serviceable but rarely rise above genre expectations. Dumont and Peltz share a believable chemistry, but their characters never evolve beyond archetypes: the skeptical girlfriend and the overconfident boyfriend. Frank Grillo (no relation to the director), playing Robert Williams, Lucas’s father, delivers a solid supporting performance, grounding the film in moments of genuine emotion. However, it’s Jaime King in the role of Annie who steals every scene she’s in. Her unnerving intensity makes her feel like the only fully realized character, a stark contrast to the rest of the cast’s one-note portrayals.

The film’s biggest misstep is its reliance on lazy jump scares and clichéd occult lore. The Manson Family’s legacy is reduced to cheap Halloween-mask horror, robbing the real-life tragedy of any meaningful weight. Grillo occasionally hints at deeper themes—media sensationalism, the commodification of evil—but these ideas are buried under a pile of derivative scares. The film’s third act devolves into a series of predictable set pieces, culminating in a finale that feels rushed and unsatisfying.

The Resurrection of Charles Manson’s low-budget constraints are evident in its production design and practical effects, which often feel dated compared to modern horror fare. The film’s reliance on digital glitches and grainy footage to create tension feels more like a cheap gimmick than a deliberate stylistic choice. While some critics have praised the film’s ambition, others, like Leslie Felperin of The Guardian, have dismissed it as “shambolic but not entirely uninteresting,” highlighting its inability to fully commit to either horror or social commentary.

In comparison to other recent Manson-inspired works, such as Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, The Resurrection of Charles Manson falls short. Where Tarantino’s film used the Manson Family as a backdrop for a larger exploration of Hollywood and nostalgia, Grillo’s film feels myopic, fixated on cheap thrills over substantive themes. Even within its own genre, the film struggles to stand out. It lacks the inventive terror of Hereditary or the sharp social critique of Get Out, leaving it feeling like a pale imitation of better horror films.

The film’s target audience is likely fans of low-budget horror who enjoy found-footage tropes and desert-set thrillers. However, even for this niche, The Resurrection of Charles Manson offers little that hasn’t been done before and done better. The film’s attempts at meta-commentary feel half-hearted, and its reliance on familiar scares makes it forgettable.

In the end, The Resurrection of Charles Manson is a missed opportunity. It has moments of genuine chills and a few clever twists, but they’re drowned out by its generic execution and half-baked ambitions. If you’re in the mood for a forgettable late-night horror flick, it might scratch that itch.