This Land would make an excellent parody, but it seems to be in the ether as to what it’s aiming for. It’s caught 5 fathoms down in the net, between serious and silly, and so doesn’t really score particularly well on either count.

One year after a home invasion by a cloaked, cultish weirdo has left the Owens family Ava (Natalie Whittle), Neil (Adam Burch), and teen son Dakota (Jerod Powers) adrift in its tragic aftermath, a trip into the wilderness to get away from bad memories and celebrate the 4th of July seems an ideal plan. That is, until the city-dwelling trio happen upon the huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’ Moss family; ex-cop Grady (John J. Pistone), his wife Barb (Mindy Montavon), and daughter Reagan (Taylor Joree Scorse), after accidentally hitting a deer en route (which turns out to have already been shot and wounded by Grady).

The two families’ differences instantly as evident as the proverbial chalk and cheese, tensions mount when it becomes clear their cabin for the duration’s been double-booked, prompting their practical decision to share the spacious premises. It’s not long before the invisible line drawn in the sand of societal norms is crossed both racially and politically, but just when the two groups decide it’s best to find separate accommodations, Ava finds the cabin’s visitors book and video tapes in the basement detailing an ancient ritual, and things kick right off. It soon becomes apparent there’s more to worry about than their initial petty squabbles, and that they may be forced into one unit to survive whatever evil is afoot.

I have to be honest here and say that This Land would make an excellent parody, but it seems to be in the ether as to what it’s aiming for. It’s caught 5 fathoms down in the net, between serious and silly, and so doesn’t really score particularly well on either count.  wound me up for multiple reasons. Whilst the Moss clan are plainly stereotyped as boorish rednecks, I found myself thinking they’d still be better company than the Owens. Ava is the sort of overly-politically correct character in whose presence it’s unsafe to speak for fear of wrongfully being accused of bigotry, and Neil is an annoyingly faux-chirpy nerd who can’t speak a sentence without turning it into a jape or jingle.

The music is noticeably incongruous much of the time, a kind of cross between bizarre onomatopoeia and A Nightmare on Elm Street. The plot and characters, which could’ve been built up more gradually to serious effect, give in to Hollywood-esque explosions, the women clutching at each other fearfully in dark corners, and the teens, isolated from the adults at first, slinging molotov cocktails about as they evade the cult members, one of which is (shock, horror!) the same assailant who attacked Ava at the start.

The way the mask he wears morphs in its appearance is engaging, but overall This Land is the standard formula mainly consisting of the fending off of forces of evil, with a predictable mix of success and failure. Necks are chopped, blood flows in rivers, people cannon around in the pitch black night, bouncing off the walls, knowing no matter how strong their characters, their goose is incinerated.