The Price We Pay Review – Ultra gory, guerrilla filmmaking at its finest

If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life. While even the most diehard fans of their career would argue that’s not always true, The Price We Pay is the rare example of a love of craft coming through on screen. The action/horror/comedy that refuses to be defined is destined to become a cult classic revisited in years to come by returning viewers looking for a laugh and new viewers looking to be surprised.

When everyone is having fun, you can feel it in movies. Something magical happens that elevates the film from dutiful camera work and acting to campy genius and stylish direction. The Price We Pay, directed by Ryûhei Kitamura (The Midnight Meat Train, Downrange) and written by Christopher Jolley, is one of those films. It’s non-stop fun from start to finish. Between the unexpectedly effective directing and camerawork and disgusting practical effects, there’s a lot to like about this film that clearly understands its audience and understands what they want.

When a pawn shop robbery goes bad, three criminals are taken hostage and make off. Alex, Emile Hirsch (The Immaculate Room, The Autopsy of Jane Doe), who play far from type, and his brother Shane (Tanner Zagarino), along with Stephen Dorff’s (Blade) Cody, are in trouble. To make matters worse, with bad luck, Grace (Gigi Zumbado, Run Sweetheart Run) was in the wrong place at the worst time. The group find themselves in a remote farmhouse, hoping to spend the night and regroup. Unfortunately, this farm grows more than just crops, and things quickly spiral out of control. In a race to survive, Grace must decide how far she is willing to go to save her own life.

Hirsch is a standout and plays to the limit of the script. Alex is a villain with odd physical features and a desire to shoot first and talk later. His manic energy fills his scenes with a rabid electricity that is mirrored by the people he has accidentally encountered. Hypnotic chemistry draws you in despite being annoyed by them all. There’s a satisfaction in what happens to Alex that shouldn’t be as fun as it is. Yet it is there. In full technicolor glory, as the blood spattered, my fist pumped, and a loud chuckle erupted. Hirsch’s dedication to his over-the-top performance makes up for some of the script’s lackluster parts.

This Grindhouse-style movie combines the best elements of blood-splattered effects, larger-than-life characters, and B-movie hijinks to keep you on your heels. That unbalanced feeling pervades most of the movie, provoking wry laughs when you should probably be horrified, but that’s the nature of these kinds of movies. It’s the kind of movie where you expect national treasure Danny Trejo to pop out of a trunk or behind a locked door with a grin and a chainsaw. It’s goofy and doesn’t take itself too seriously, but still manages to be a pretty wild ride.

Sometimes these films can so devolve into ridiculousness that the horror is lost in a pool of fuscia-tinted guts and barbed bats. While barbed wire makes a meaningful appearance, it’s worth the price of admission in the final act; nothing ever goes so far as to take us out of the story. The price we pay walks a fine line and never goes too far into the absurd to erase the fear. It’s a delicate balancing act that you wouldn’t expect in a movie that’s so blatantly self-aware.

Helping the movie is a fantastic real-life farm in New Mexico that’s been lit up and filmed to make the most of the weird space and hard angles. Regular collaborating cameraman Matthew Schubert(Downrange, The Shed) knows his way around tight spaces and uses clever camera tricks to crank up the tension to coincide with the action. The end result is an insane product reminiscent of some of the greats like Quentin Tarantino’s From Dusk Till Dawn and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The twist isn’t as surprising as the first, and the scare isn’t as scary as the last, but Kitamura’s film forges a new space in horror that allows levity and fear to coexist.

The aforementioned twist is predicted early on by a seemingly unrelated prologue, but the set does all the heavy lifting, so you’re surprised even knowing what’s to come. As the sun-kissed shots of sweaty brows give way to dark underground passageways and later neon-lit spaces, we anxiously follow as our crew gets what’s in store for them. It is a curious kind of morbidity that fits well with the central theme. Karma is a bitch.

It’s that kind of movie for aficionados of this rollercoaster ride style of filmmaking that finds art in the absurd and amusement in the chaos. The chaos that ensues in the final act makes every moment of the setup worthwhile. So get out in the cold and watch with friends because The Price We Pay is definitely a party movie. It’s out now on VOD everywhere and in select theaters on January 13, 2023.