By David Dent
Chris Moore’s latest horror movie – and he’s been quietly churning them out for some years with relatively little exposure – is a strange beast.
Half serial killer flick, half gay/straight relationship film, half smart comedy (ok I know that’s one and a half) it’s best when delivering snappy dialogue (example: “Wow, you’re actually keeping food down these days?” “Not as much as you!”) and less successful when it gives way to the stalk and slash elements.
Meredith Mohler plays Callee Bishop, a student who has pretty much rewritten the rulebook on self righteousness, a homegrown crusader for the oppressed who even has a handwritten sign that reads ‘You say SJW like it’s a bad thing.’
Pretty much friendless, having alienated the whole school with her incessant claims of racism, sexism and everything elseism delivered to anyone who will listen, her only real buddy is Ian (Jesse Dalton), a much put upon guy, uneasy with his gayness.
The town in which they live was home to a serial killer thirty years previously, the infamy of that time compounded by a new rash of murders that seems to be following the same pattern. Triggered follows Callee and Ian’s involvement in the crimes (while perpetrating one or two of their own by mistake), as they try and keep one step ahead of the killer while maintaining their bickering.
At nearly two hours Triggered is far longer than it needs to be, and sadly for a lot of the time it drags, there being no real pace to speak of.
The action scenes are fairly poorly handled and it’s only the sprightly dialogue – mainly in the first half of the movie – that makes it interesting.
Amanda (A Nightmare on Elm Street) Wyss turns up as the school Prinicpal, herself the lone survivor of the previous massacre, but sadly doesn’t get much to do.
The real issue here is spending two hours in the whiny company of Callee, a thoroughly unlikeable character who seems to undergo a total personality change half way through the movie before slipping back into angry mode.
Full marks to Ms Mohler for her performance, but it’s a real drag to listen to, and the closing credits came as a blessed relief from the verbal onslaught.
It does score points for its sideswipes at modern media, and the funniest scene is a fake bedding commercial that uses the massacre for a bit of class punnage.