Frewaka (15)

Director: Aislinn Clarke
Screenplay: Aislinn Clarke

Starring: Clare Monnelly, Brid Ni Neachtain, Aleksandra Bystrzhitskaya
Running time: 103 minutes

Shudder

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Review: RJ Bland

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Over the past decade, two horror sub-genres have experienced a notable resurgence: slasher films and folk horror. Given the inherently cyclical nature of horror cinema, it’s not particularly surprising to see these once-dominant styles from the 1970s and 1980s finding renewed popularity among contemporary audiences. Filmmakers have been revisiting these genres with fresh perspectives, reimagining familiar tropes while also exploring new thematic territory.

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Whilst the new wave of slashers have predominantly been resurrections of older properties (Halloween, Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer), new folk horror has been exactly that. New and original. Ari Aster and Robert Eggers have given us perhaps the two most notorious and critically acclaimed examples of this, with Midsommar (2019) and The Witch (2016) but there have been a whole host of films that have explored rituals, superstitions and the dark side of human behaviour and usually with a rural backdrop; The Ritual (2017), Lamb (2021), Antlers (2021), Men (2020), Moloch (2022) being a few standout examples that spring to mind. Aislinn Clarke’s Frewaka, a film with its roots set deeply in Celtic mythology is the latest to add to your list. 

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Frewaka follows Shoo (Clare Monnelly), a weary and emotionally burdened medical caretaker who finds herself confronting the past when tasked with clearing out her estranged mother’s apartment following her suicide. Shoo is accompanied by her pregnant Ukrainian fiancée Mila (Aleksandra Bystrzhitskaya), who offers support through the process. However, tensions rise when Mila encourages her to keep certain items for sentimental reasons - a suggestion that Shoo, still harbouring deep resentment over a fractured and painful maternal relationship, rejects with hostility. Her instinct is to dispose of everything and leave as quickly as possible.

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Fortuitously, Shoo is offered a reprieve: a temporary nursing position in a remote countryside setting, caring for an elderly woman recovering from a stroke. The new patient, Peig (Bríd Ní Neachtain), is neither welcoming nor trusting, and it quickly becomes clear that she lives in a state of near-constant paranoia. Peig is convinced that dark, malevolent forces lurk outside, trying to gain entry into her isolated home. Initially, Shoo dismisses these claims as symptoms of post-stroke confusion or mental decline. But it isn’t long before she begins to suspect that Peig’s fears might not be entirely unfounded.

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Aislinn’s Clarke’s previous (and only other) feature film is the probably underseen and underrated The Devil’s Doorway, a creepy found footage horror set in a Magdalene Laundry in 1960s Ireland. It’s a thought-provoking descent into spiritual madness and Frewaka builds on those themes, weaving together Celtic folklore, Catholic superstition, and a stark sense of female generational trauma. Clarke masterfully establishes a uniquely Irish setting, rich in historical and cultural texture - from the eerie mummers in the opening scene to the desolate rural landscapes and the haunting presence of a Sacred Heart lamp that Shoo cannot shake off. A traditional folk ballad adds another layer of unease, lingering like an ancestral memory. Notably, the decision to present much of the dialogue in the Irish language is both authentic and impactful, enhancing the film’s cultural specificity.

Much of the horror here is implied and psychological. Frewaka plants the seeds of disquiet into your head from very early on and is content to let them slowly and insidiously bloom away. That’s not to say there isn’t any pay off. We’re treated to a clutch of unsettling moments and visuals; from the suicide of her mother to the troubling behaviour of the ‘care worker’ who comes to check on Shoo and Peig. But a lot of the tension comes from the potential and largely unknowable horrors that await not just outside the safety of the decaying old house the pair are confined too, but also in the basement below; an out of bounds location with an ominous red door that Peig keeps adorned with an array of Irish trinkets.

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At its core, Frewaka is a profoundly feminine narrative. One of inherited trauma and the role that religion in particular has to answer for. Amongst the eeriness and paranoia, the relationship between Shoo and Peig provides a little respite as the two gradually start to connect, with the former gradually chipping away at the latter’s icy reticence. There are a few flashes of dry humour too, which is welcome in a story with themes and visuals as oppressive as this. Both actors are thoroughly excellent too. If there are criticisms to be made, it's perhaps that the film can feel overly claustrophobic, with minimal involvement from the supporting cast. This is very much Shoo and Peig’s story, and while that focus is effective, it can occasionally feel limiting. Additionally, the film’s climax veers into ambiguity - an artistic choice that will either intrigue or frustrate viewers depending on their tolerance for unanswered questions.