The Man in the White Van (15)

Director: Warren Skeels
Screenplay: Warren Skeels, Sharron Y. Cobb

Starring: Madison Wolfe, Brec Bassinger, Ali Larter
Running time: 105 minutes

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Review: RJ Bland

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You might think that serial killers and horror films make for a perfect pairing. What’s more horrific that the worst type of murderous scum that the human race can churn out eh? However, traditionally lots of these films are considered thrillers, rather than horror movies. Copycat (1995), Silence of the Lambs (1991), American Psycho (2000), Zodiac (2007), Manhunter (1986), Seven (1995), Kiss the Girls (1997). All vary in tone and approach, but while they feel horror-adjacent, we often hesitate to label them outright as horror. Why is that? It’s hard to pin down. Some lean more into the procedural, often told from the perspective of law enforcement. Others feature major stars, lending them an air of prestige. Heaven forbid they be seen as grubby little horror flicks, right? Thing is, if you chuck some kind of mask on a serial killer the odds of it shifting from thriller to horror go up by about 87%. See films such as The Strangers (2008), Hush (2016), The Collector (2009). Perhaps obscuring the killer’s face makes them less human, which nudges the tone firmly into horror territory. Who knows? Warren Skeels’ The Man in the White Van doesn’t feature a masked villain, instead billing itself as a “true-crime, Hitchcockian thriller.” Come on, guys - you’re not fooling anyone. It’s a horror movie. Isn't it?

 

Set in 1970s Florida, 15-year-old Annie (Madison Wolfe) is doing what most teens do: bickering with siblings, exasperating her parents, blasting music, and nursing hopeless crushes on dreamy classmates. Annie has a rebellious streak that often puts her at odds with her prim mother (Ali Larter) and golden-child sister Margaret (Brec Bassinger), who can seemingly do no wrong. Her father (Sean Astin) is away on business a lot, which doesn’t help matters. Her only real allies? Her little brother Daniel and her horse, fittingly named Rebel. Annie’s tendency to exaggerate doesn’t exactly help her case - like when she tells one of her dad’s colleagues at dinner she saw a 20-foot snake while riding, when it was clearly just a regular rattler. So when she insists a man in a white van is stalking her, her parents are understandably sceptical. But we know she’s not imagining it. Earlier scenes show the van’s driver abducting and murdering young women. By the time Halloween night rolls around, no one will be doubting Annie’s story.

 

The Man in the White Van is loosely based on the crimes of William Mansfield, a human piece of shit who killed five women in Florida and California in the mid 1970s. That said, even a brief look into Mansfield’s crimes shows the connection here is tenuous at best and that’s entirely intentional. The film never claims to be a factual retelling. With the shackles of true crime shirked off to a large degree, the opportunity was there for Skeels and co to take this film in whatever direction they wanted. However, the film has a bit of an identity crisis and can’t quite decide what it wants to be. Some of it feels like a Netflix dramatization of a serial killer story, whilst at times it threatens to be more of a slasher movie. Yet it doesn’t fully commit to either. The result is a film that doesn’t feel authentic enough to be a harrowing retelling of true events and it doesn’t quite do enough to be considered a full-blown slasher movie either. This halfway house may leave some feeling a little unfulfilled by the end. But others will find this combination less affecting and find the film eminently more watchable as a result. We’re in the third camp, where we find both of these sentiments to be true.

 

The Man in the White Van decides to keep its killer in the shadows for much of the film. Although we see him despatching a couple of victims in the first half, his identity and face are hidden. When he switches his attention to Annie, we barely see him. His vehicle is the looking menace and the film becomes more of a stalk than a slash, much in the same way that Halloween (1978) was, with Michael simply following his intended victims around in a car for half the film. This is all quite effective, partly due to some great sound design, but it's just a shame that the final act doesn’t quite deliver the uplift in tension and action that the build-up deserves. The climax is competently directed, but it feels rushed - arriving late and ending too soon. The film invests considerable time developing the world and relationships of its central characters, to the point where it occasionally feels like a teen drama. In hindsight, trimming some of that in favour of a longer, more satisfying showdown would have been welcome.

 

That said, there’s an undeniable charm and warmth that makes the film an easy watch. Much of that comes from the nostalgic atmosphere Skeels successfully evokes, but it’s also down to the strength of the cast. While Larter and Astin aren’t given a great deal to do, they add a touch of star power. Brec Bassinger plays a character who might have come off as grating, but she handles it deftly, offering a performance that’s both irritating and endearing. Still, it’s Madison Wolfe who deserves the most praise. Like all compelling final girls, she’s both tough and vulnerable. Having already appeared in three horror films, this marks her first turn in a leading role and she rises to the occasion with ease.

 

Amid the family drama, there’s just enough suspense to keep audiences from getting too comfortable, with a few well-executed visuals offering brief bursts of adrenaline. It’s just a shame that it never fully commits to the horror.