Five

Five is one of those rare and precious genre films that manages to juggle several registers without ever losing its balance. Directed by Dani Barker, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Erin Boyes and Mike Hassan, this feature film presents itself as a horror comedy about demonic possession, but quickly establishes itself as a much richer and more complex work. Behind its deliberately absurd plot—a washed-up actress, Teagan Vincze in the role of Melody Palmer, accepts a minor role in a Hallmark romance and finds herself possessed by an evil entity—lies a fierce satire of the Hollywood industry. The film manages to combine grotesque humor, thrills, and social commentary, transforming what could have been a lighthearted farce into a disturbing, intelligent, and deeply revealing work about an industry that never hesitates to crush its own idols.

The story opens with Melody Palmer at her lowest point, desperately trying to regain her legitimacy after a series of public failures and a highly publicized stint in rehab. The role she lands in Renovated Romance, a saccharine and uninspired production, represents her last chance at redemption. However, the atmosphere on set quickly turns toxic, with each member of the crew absorbed in their own flaws. Donna Benedicto plays Lala, Melody's sober companion, who takes advantage of her position to land a small role that she constantly sabotages. Sean Depner plays Mark, an alcoholic and arrogant co-star, the epitome of the unbearable Hollywood macho. Add to that the overwhelmed director played by Lauren McGibbon, and Georgia Bradner as Regina, who is more interested in scandal than in her job of making the film. This stifling microcosm is enough to blow up any production, and the irruption of the supernatural—via a cursed cabin and a demon named Five—only exacerbates the already toxic atmosphere, giving the plot an almost inevitable logic: when everything is already rotten, possession becomes the natural consequence of a disaster in the making.

Horror and comedy are constantly intertwined, and it is in this duality that the film draws its strength. Dani Barker herself appears in a comical cameo alongside Amelia Burstyn, playing the hyperactive hosts of a paranormal YouTube channel called Parawormhole. These sequences highlight the way our era consumes the supernatural as mass entertainment, while adding a touch of biting irony. Barker also plays with visual codes: the pastel lighting and smooth frames of television romances give way abruptly to grimy, organic imagery, saturated with bodily fluids and decomposing flesh. References to Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead and William Friedkin's The Exorcist are obvious, but the inspiration never turns into mere pastiche. On the contrary, this alternation creates a unique experience, where we move from laughter to discomfort, from sweet parody to the most visceral horror, in a back-and-forth that reflects the disturbing proximity between the fabricated dream of cinema and the very real nightmares behind the scenes.

At the center of this chaos is Teagan Vincze's masterful performance, who delivers an uncompromising portrayal of Melody. Rarely has an actress agreed to go so far into the grotesque and physical degradation: vomiting, pustules, demonic singing, nothing is spared her. But behind the monstrosity, Vincze retains a deeply moving humanity. We feel the pain of a woman who is drowning, betrayed by a system that prefers to reduce her suffering to a star's whim or a personal relapse rather than face the truth. Possession then becomes a cruel and clear metaphor: Hollywood exploits its female talent, uses them until they are exhausted, then discards them when they cease to embody the perfect image expected of them. In this context, the indifference of Melody's colleagues, more concerned with their egos than with her ordeal, is even more chilling than the demonic screams. It is this emotional depth that makes Five a more poignant film than it appears, capable of transcending its excesses to touch on something universal.

As the story progresses, the comedy gives way to a tragic darkness that offers no consolation. The film's structure, divided into “days” of production, underscores the exhaustion of a never-ending shoot and plunges the viewer into a hellish loop that mirrors Melody's experience. The ending, offering neither redemption nor true deliverance, confirms Dani Barker's audacity: refusing catharsis, leaving the audience with an ambiguous, dark, almost despairing note. It is precisely this choice that gives the film its lasting impact. Five does not seek to appease, but to leave a lasting impression by bluntly exposing the brutality of the entertainment industry and the fragility of those it crushes. It is a work that amuses, shocks, and sometimes disgusts, but above all, it invites reflection. Ultimately, like the cursed cabin at its heart, Five draws the viewer in with the familiar appearance of a well-trodden story, before trapping them in a grotesque and revealing nightmare that haunts them long after the final frame.

Five
Directed by Dani Barker
Written by Dani Barker, Erin Boyes, Mike Hassan
Produced by Dani Barker, Erin Boyes, Amelia Burstyn
Starring Teagan Vincze, Sean Depner, Donna Benedicto, Giles Panton, Karen Holness, Georgia Bradner, Dani Barker, Maia Michaels, Lauren McGibbon, Amelia Burstyn, Melanie Rees, Broadus Mattison, Shaira Boucher, Emma Cherris, Nico Field-Dyte, Marielle Gentile
Cinematography: Corey MacGregor
Edited by Scott Belyea
Music by Harvey Davis
Production companies: Double Feature Productions, Tall Pines Entertainment
Distributed by NC
Release dates: NC
Running time: 81 minutes

Seen on August 23, 2025 (Frightfest press screener)

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