Telling scary stories around a fire is a time-honored winter tradition. Though the horror-comedy Scare Me made its streaming premiere on Shudder in time for Halloween, the film seems even better suited for winter viewing. It takes a unique approach to the horror anthology film, spending most of its runtime with two characters who try to one-up each other with scary stories in front of a roaring fire. They take turns acting out tales about werewolves, zombies, and trolls with just the slightest hint of special effects to accompany their improvised frights. Though it runs out of steam at times, Scare Me is a smart meta-commentary on horror films that tackles serious issues with wry humor.
Fred (Josh Ruben, who also wrote and directed the film) is an aspiring novelist who rents a remote cabin to work on his magnum opus, a horror novel that at this point only consists of five words: “Werewolves have guns…get revenge?” In true writerly fashion, he spends about 30 seconds glaring at his laptop until he decides to do anything but write. He wanders around the cabin, amusing himself with a Jack Torrance impression and spooky vocal effects that foreshadow the creepy turn his writing retreat will soon take. When Fred goes out for a jog, he meets Fanny (Aya Cash), a woman staying in a nearby cabin who turns out to be a bestselling horror author with a critically acclaimed debut novel. When the power goes out that evening, Fanny visits Fred’s cabin and suggests that they tell each other spooky stories to pass the time, challenging Fred to do his best to scare her.
An anthology film that unfolds primarily through dialogue between two actors in a single room is a clever premise, but it’s also a huge risk. For the most part, Scare Me pulls it off. Ruben and Cash play off each other with crackling wit and sharp timing. The references fly quickly, covering everything from the Crypt-Keeper to Uta Hagen, and horror fans will delight in Fred and Fanny’s mutual shorthand. Despite her annoying personality and terrible opinions on werewolf movies, Fanny is an incisive workshop partner. She provides invaluable feedback based on their shared knowledge of horror films and tropes that molds Fred’s half-baked ideas into compelling stories. The sparse visual effects that punctuate the stories are perfectly calibrated to enhance the creep factor without detracting from the impressive lead performances.
Though the film lags a bit in the middle, it regains its momentum when Chris Redd appears to shake up the character dynamics. His character Carlo, a pizza delivery driver who also happens to be a huge admirer of Fanny’s novel, dives into Fred and Fanny’s creepy reindeer games with abandon. Carlo’s energy is infectious, and his giddiness over getting to tell stories with his favorite author injects some much-needed variety into the film’s formula. Joining Redd as a scene-stealer is Rebecca Drysdale, who bookends the film as Fred’s rideshare driver Bettina. An aspiring author herself, Bettina is convinced that her effects-heavy screenplay will be a smash hit if she can just get it on the desk of James Cameron, whose last name she refuses to pronounce correctly.
Scare Me provides great comedic moments and quality scares, but it also has a lot to say about the craft of writing and toxic masculinity. After Carlo leaves — he still has pizzas to deliver, after all — the film takes a surprising turn as Fred finally tells a story that truly scares Fanny. The script provides clever clues to the twist along the way, leading up to a moment that most, if not all, women will recognize. Misogyny and professional jealousy combine to create a story that terrifies not because of its supernatural beasts but because of its mundane relatability.
Both an ode to and an indictment of writers, Scare Me is a creative anthology film that plays with tropes and experiments with tone to create a sharp horror-comedy. It serves as deceptively dark commentary on “nice guys,” professional integrity, and the business of storytelling. Despite its second act pacing issues, Scare Me continues the tradition of sharing scary stories by the fireside with wit, intelligence, and venom.
