Resolution or: A Testament of how Fantastic, Innovative Films can come from the Lowest Budget, Obscure Productions (Film Analysis)

Oh, the layers. The layers.  How I love multiple layers to a story!

And boy, if you do too, then have I got a treat for you.  Resolution is part traditional Lovecraftian horror, part psychological horror/thriller, and part character drama about addiction, mental illness, and resolve.  Together these elements (and a few more) are spliced together into a powerful, multilayered film—one of the best of the decade.  And with a budget of only $20,000, Resolution beats out Another Earth as one of the cheapest 2010s films to do so.

The plot opens with professional graphics designer Mike Danube (Peter Cilella) receiving a video email from his estranged best friend Chris Daniels (Vinny Curran).  Chris is a heavy drug addict, having moved to a remote, rural county where he can freely smoke crack.  The video shows a delusional and eccentric shell of the person he (presumably) once was—having lost a significant amount of weight, firing guns randomly into the air, shouting and crying in an unhinged manner, sometimes crying while firing the gun, even deeply cutting his hand at one point.  The video is shot in a very sporadic, uneven manner with quick splices between shots—making Chris’ manic behavior all the more unnerving to watch, particularly when Chris suddenly, silently looks behind him into the woods, as if he heard something watching him.  The video prompts Mike to make one final attempt at saving Chris from his addiction—hoping to bring him home to receive proper rehab.  After promising his wife that he'll return in one week and following the map sent alongside Chris’ video, Mike heads off resolved to save his long-lost friend.

The map leads Mike to a very rundown, isolated house where Chris is wildly firing his pistol at birds that are supposedly stealing his stuff.  The film is very quick and effective at properly establishing both characters’s personalities from these first few interactions.  Chris has a stereotypical blue-collar, redneck disposition, with his U.S.A. hat (if this had been made at least four years later I’m certain the hat would have said Make America Great Again), camo pants, overall rugged look, and a foul mouth—sitting on his porch drinking beer and firing bullets casually into the air.  Mike, on the other hand, is a much more prim and proper city boy—though one with absolute balls of steel.  Mike is a true, genuine bro and regardless of what bleak, dangerous, and/or terrifying situations are thrown at him, stands strong in his complete resolve to try and save Chris.

One of Resolution’s strengths is its blend of black comedy into dramatic and/or horrific situations.  The film impressively succeeds at getting laughs during serious situations without sullying the built-up tension.  When Mike makes his presence clear, Chris is ecstatic to see him—casually trying to catch up before spastically switching to enraged at a bird’s chirp.  Chris begins angrily swearing at the bird, firing his gun into the air causing Mike’s ears to ring for a moment.  The seriousness of Chris's clear-cut unstable personality is levied when his mood immediately flips back to casual as he offers Mike a drink—nonchalantly gesturing to Mike using his gun, causing Mike to understandably flinch backward.  The payoff is hilarious, yet it does not change the situation of Chris’ dangerous instability.

Mike acts with levelheadedness towards the situation, talking calmly and clearly to Chris.  At one point he offers Chris to go get his crack pipe while he goes and sits down to relax, subtly grabbing the dropped gun and tossing it outside without Chris’ knowledge.  Chris excitedly starts catching up with Mike and telling what’s he’s been up to:

Chris: How's your wife? How's, um... Jennifer. Jennifer. Is she still mad at me about the wedding?

Mike: Yes.

Chris: Really?

Mike: Yeah, actually, yeah, nobody, nobody really likes you very much right now.

Chris: Oh, that sucks.

Mike: You can fix it.

Chris: Oh, God, there's no... Do you remem... I don't think I can fix that. Oh God, Mike, I got a f***ing dog. Can you believe that? I finally got a f***ing dog. It's so f***ing awesome. She doesn't live here, but she visits me every day. We're, uh, we're writing a book together on, uh, squirrels. Her idea.

Mike: When's the last time you slept?

Chris: Oh, f***. Jeez, I don't know.

The dialogue indicates that Chris’ addiction has ruined and estranged all good relationships in his life.  Chris is clearly at his ends rope and Mike makes clear why he's come; “All right, look, I came here to ask you one last time. Can we get in my truck and take you somewhere?...All I'm asking is that you get clean for one week, okay? After that, you wanna die, I will throw you the key, and you'll never see me again.”  Chris refuses and Mike feigns to leave, only to swiftly pull out a taser and paralyze Chris long enough to handcuff him to one of the house’s metal bars.  Mike reveals his absolute determination to spend one week getting all the crack out of Chris' system whether he likes it or not.  Chris is furious at the forced flush, and tries everything to escape—from struggling, to hilariously filing the chain with a toothbrush and commanding Sara (the sweetest dog in the world) to kill Mike, to poorly faking acceptance:

Chris: Michael, when you were gone I took a long, hard look at myself. You're right. I'm pretty f***ed up. I need to go to rehab. I'm ready, man. I'm ready for you to take me to rehab. Let's do this. Uncuff me.

Mike: Do you know why Jimi Hendrix died? He didn't have Mike Danube and a set of handcuffs to save his life.

It gets to the point where Chris attacks Mike when he comes near to change his water, forcing Mike to taser him again.  Yet Mike's resolution remains firm, even as it places him into an increasingly dangerous situation—more than he could have ever imagined.  Chris’ unhinged drug dealers/addicts Micah and Billy (Skyler Meacham and Kurt David Anderson respectively) show up demanding payment that Chris had agreed on that month—money Chris still doesn’t have.  Mike stands his ground, however, pulling a Teddy Roosevelt by speaking softly to them that Chris is done smoking, all the while displaying a large metal bat in hand.  The pair angrily leaves, with Chris warning Mike not to mess with them:

Mike: Billy and Micah stopped by.

Chris: Billy and Micah are f***ed up. Don't f*** with those guys, dude.

Mike: You know, I never thought that you would end up as bad as them.

Chris: I f***ing... I'm kidnapped, asshole, and you're jud...You're a self-righteous asshole!

The dealers aren't the only people Mike has to worry about, however, with the film constantly throwing out possible endgame antagonists and/or red herrings for the pair—and audience—to worry about.  It turns out Chris is squatting on a Native American Preserve, with the house’s true owner Charles (Zahn McClarnon) having to be paid off for them to stay the remaining five days—Charles warning Mike that they must leave by the last day.  Exploring the area, Mike comes across strange men dressed in all white, two of them played by the film’s directors Justin Benson and Aaron Scott Moorhead—using their own names for the characters and claiming to be part of a UFO religion.  The pair are even visited by a shady con artist trying to buy the house off of them and subtly threatening bad things to come if they talk about the encounter.  Mike handles himself surprisingly well against the multitude of threatening situations—remaining calm, reserved and reasonable in addition to assertive when needed.

Yet creepy things happen in the middle of nowhere, starting with how Chris never actually filmed any video for Mike, nor sent it and a map to his location.  While searching for Chris's remaining stash of drugs in hopes of warding off Micah and Billy, Mike finds some strange photos telling a story that ends in violent tragedy.  Chris claims he found the photos in the area and was going to sell them at a flea market, telling Mike he'll find all sorts of strange things around there like people doing rituals and the UFO folks.  The withdrawal symptoms really start to hit Chris hard at this point, who starts extensively sleeping—giving Mike more time to explore.  While wandering the area, Mike finds an old abandoned camping ground where a rock mysteriously falls from the sky—catching Mike's attention and luring him over to discover some old vinyl records.  Just then, a cabin door opens on its own, drawing his attention to the mysterious occurrence.

As if guided by an unseen force, Mike finds a record player and listens to one of the vinyl disks to hear another story that ends in brutal tragedy.  Mike goes to the local libraries in search of any information on the strange happenings, yet once again discovers a new tragic story, this time told through picture slides.  Mike begins wondering if people are leaving these stories for him to find, yet Chris angrily dismisses it, noting how they have bigger problems to worry about.  For the moment, Mike puts away the mysterious happenings—sitting down to, instead, offer Chris a beer and talk:

Chris: (To Mike offering him a beer) Seriously?

Mike: Alcohol has never been your problem. Actually, no, I won't say that. If you have problems when you drink, you have a drinking problem.

Chris: What the f*** are you talking about?

Mike: Denise "The Beast" Price.

Chris: Why you gotta bring up old s***?

Mike: She's easily the fattest girl, I think, that has ever walked the planet.

Chris: I was wasted, man.

Mike: I literally saw her eat an entire block of Velveeta cheese in one sitting.

Chris: We were making nachos and the stove was broken.

Mike: There's no excuse for that, dude….Well, it's not as bad as the hogs that Dale used to bang, remember?

Chris: Oh, man, Dale was the man 'cause he owned it, you know? He had an opinion, he didn't care, and he just went for it. He didn't give a s*** who f***ing cared about it.

Mike: To Dale.

Chris: To Dale.

The bro talk between the two is a really nice bonding scene that showcases a glimmer of their once close friendship.  The scene turns eerily creepy, however, by the camera perspective merely switching to outside the window, as if someone is watching them.

Mike wakes up the next day to find a picture of a cemetery grave left there.  He heads to said grave and discovers a VHS tape left there.  The two watch the video at the house, revealing a recording of Mike tasering Chris earlier in the film.  Chris once again dismisses the video, stating anyone could have been filmed it right outside the window to mess with them.  A far more understandably paranoid Mike points out flaws to this logic as the video contains no glass glare that a window would produce.  Mike decides to show Chris the opening clip he was sent, hoping to jog his memory of who might have taken it—yet when played, the scene is revealed to have completely changed to their discussion just a few moments ago.  For the first time, Chris is troubled by the strange happenings, though he believes it to be a government conspiracy being filmed by satellites.

It's becoming quite clear to Mike that supernatural things are happening, with the pieces beginning to be put together.  Mike has continuously found stories that all end tragically, and now he's finding videos of himself and Chris, the current story going on.  Every now and again, the story becomes distorted in ways, such as voices repeating or losing pitch, red flares leaking at the sides, the literal screen shaking, the latter being noticed by both Mike and Chris—making it relevant beyond mere creepy ambiance.  Going full detective, Mike continues searching for clues around the area, starting with what Chris calls the Mexican trafficking cave, leading to a humorous bit of positive dialogue between them:

Mike: Are you, uh, are you cool if I go check it out? I feel like I need a walk.

Chris: What about mountain lions?

Mike: What about them?

Chris: Since 1983, the mountain lion population of this town has increased staggeringly and steadily. Right now, there's like thirteen mountain lions per person.

Mike: Yeah, I think, uh, I think I'll be fine.

Chris: You should take my mountain lion gun.

Mike: You have a mountain lion gun?

Chris: (Completely nonchalant) Mm-hm.

Mike: I'm just, I'm gonna take my chances.

Chris: All right, man. You know, on a side note, I'm not feeling too bad today. I feel pretty sweet.

Mike: Good. If you got energy, I will leave you my laptop here. There's some games on it if you wanna play.

Chris: Thank you.

The cave scene is a great bit of traditional horror as Mike silently explores the cavern and discovers strange imagery across the walls, the camera once again gaining a red streak.  His flashlight ends up shining upon a supposed drug addict living within the caves, leading to a great jump-scare as the man screams and frightens Mike out of the cave—resulting in him injuring his ankle.  What's great about Resolution’s brand of horror is its combination of the supernatural, the unseen, and the realistic.  There’s an eldritch abomination toying with the main characters’s lives, unseen by the audience leaving it to their imagination (as I’ve noted in The Blair Witch Project, I’m a sucker for unknown dangers in fiction), yet also a bunch of realistically unsettling and/or threatening people around.  The best of both worlds for an effective horror-thriller setting.

Mike contacts his wife, omitting out the dangerous situation he's put himself in and lying that Chris is all on board with rehab.  Yet the situation could not be further from his story.  Around evening, Micah and Billy return and kill Sara as a final warning.  Chris is devastated by the event, and while Mike tries to console him, the former reveals his mental depression and suicidal thoughts:

Chris: I f***ing hate people. F***, man, you know what people do? They f***ing kill dogs. You, me, and f***ing those apes that killed Sara. We're all the same. The only difference is that I f***ing liked Sara. I loved that dog. I mean, I just... I'd rather just do drugs and end it on my terms rather than a virus, or global warming, or some s*** just killing me slowly.

Mike: This is not the same guy that painted the picture on my wall.

Chris: Being creative it's... It's a curse. It condemns you to a life of failure 'cause you can't sustain interest in any boring rat race job long enough to make a living at it.

Mike: All right, well, you know why none of this bothers me is because I can't believe a word that's come out of your mouth in the last three years.

Chris: Why don't you let me go then?

Mike: Everyone you've ever known thinks that you're a liar and a thief. You know, you tricked us too many times into thinking you were pulling it together.

Chris: Mike, when you and I were f***ing partying and doing dumb s*** together, I was doing drugs and you didn't give a s*** then.

Mike: Oh, okay, so I guess then I'm, uh, I'm like your enabler.

Chris: Call it whatever the f*** you want, man. Some of this s*** is your fault.

Mike: We all believe in the possibility that you're sick. We think about all the f***ing horrible things you've done in your life and which ones we should hold you accountable for.

Chris: You're saying I'm sick? I never called it a f***ing illness or any of that s*** at all. So, f*** off. The only reason you're f***ing here, and I'm chained to this f***ing pipe, is so that you can have something to f***ing save and f***ing feel good about yourself. But guess what, Michael, you're no f***ing better than anyone else and your f***ing life is as meaningless as mine and I swear to f***ing God that I'm gonna f***ing sue the s*** out of you when this f***ing sh** is done.

Mike: I, uh, will be back later tonight. I'm really sorry about Sara.

This is some damn good, realistic dialogue regarding such heavy subject matter, all coming from a story featuring a cosmic horror entity.  Mike is trying his best here—he truly wants to save Chris—but he's no professional at dealing with mental illness.  How does one properly respond to someone who's completely given up on life?  What’s the right phrase of words to save them?  Is there a right phrase of words?  The situation continues looking bleaker that Mike can actually save Chris. 

Mike ends up tracking down Sara’s actual owner—an eccentric archaeologist named Byron (Bill Oberst Jr.) who was part of a French research team that was exploring the area (the same group who had made the campsite from earlier).  Byron explains to Mike how the area is controlled by an unforeseen entity that desire stories to be told with beginnings, middles, and ends.  Throughout the film, I noticed that the words coming out of the characters's mouths would not always be in sync with the characters's lip movements.  At first, I thought I was seeing things, yet it became very apparent that, at certain points, the words said were not coming out of the characters’s mouths.  Now, I’m not certain if this was supposed to be intentionally noticed, or it was an inadequately done redubbing of certain scenes.  Regardless, it works in favor of the filming style—adding on to the distorting film effects.

With the week finally up and all the junk out of Chris' system, he and Mike sit down for very blunt discussion:

Mike: I will never go to rehab. Ever. Please just let me kill myself the way that I want to kill myself. I appreciate all the stuff you're doing for me, man, but as my friend, you gotta just let me go.

A disheartened Mike somberly agrees to Chris's request and finally uncuffs him.  Just then, however, the film projector in their room turns on by itself, revealing the corpses of Mike and Chris in coffins.  Suddenly Mike's computer turns on and fast-forwards throughout the day, showcasing Micah and Billy barging in and murdering both of them.  The event severely and understandably freaks out Chris, yet Mike is finally able to piece all the clues together—that they are in one of the tragic stories, yet are being given a chance to alter their destiny.  The tension wildly raises as both characters and audience now know what is gradually approaching the house.  Seeing that their murders happen later in the evening, the two quickly hop into Chris' truck to swiftly drive away, that is until they find a CD within the truck.

Chris begs Mike not the play it, but he does so anyway.  The audio reveals them being stopped in the truck by Charles and his crew who then murder and torch their corpses—their last words being pleads for mercy with Mike saying he's a father.  The CD then ends on a record scratch of Mike's wife repeatedly saying it's a horrible idea.  After a momentarily pause from both characters that is both equally tense as it is comedic, Mike puts together that they cannot go home, but they also cannot stay in the house.  Left and right, the entity is manipulating their actions—giving them ultimatums that is leading to its desired conclusion.

The pair decide to hide in the woods, concealing themselves just as Micah and Billy arrive at the house—waiting there while smoking crack.  Mike and Chris observe the situation from the distance as the high-tension climax takes an interesting turn—the momentary lull allowing the pair to have one final conversation:

Chris: Was it true about the, uh, dad thing?

Mike: Yeah, I'm gonna be a dad.

Chris: When's it going down?

Mike: Seven months.

Chris: Seven months? Boy or girl?

Mike: Well, it's a little early to tell….You would make a good uncle.

Chris: Whatever.

Mike: That's bull, that's bulls***, man. Give yourself a little credit, man. Seriously, you're like, you're one of the most loyal, protective, and smartest people I know. You know, and you don't wave it in people's faces and make them feel stupid about it.

Chris: Come on, that's a bunch of malarkey, but thanks, though.

Mike: I'm serious. Okay, why do you think, why do you think you've lasted as long as you have like you have? It's because the dirtbags you hang out with actually like being around you. You know, I think it makes them feel better about their dark souls to have someone like you around.

Chris: I appreciate it, man, but I'm a piece of s***. You know it... I mean even though you completely abandoned your pregnant wife to save a piece of s*** like myself, I, uh, I think you're gonna be a good dad.

Mike: Thanks...There's something I should tell you... you were right, okay? You know, I felt guilty and I missed my best friend, but I had, I had no right to intrude on your life like this, man... it's just like, you know, with the baby coming like I felt like this was my last chance to do something to feel better about myself, and I'm just f***ing sorry, man.

Chris: It is what it is, Mike. I don't, I don't give a s***. I mean, I'm sorry that I can't be this imaginary guy that you think is me, you know? You're still my buddy.

It’s such a strangely down-to-Earth conversation to be having at such a peak climactic moment, but it fits right in bizarrely enough—perhaps because of how comical, potent, and engaging it is.  Yet such breakthrough conversation is interrupted as Charles and his men show up, killing Micah and Billy before torching the house.  Realizing the remaining crack is still in the house, Chris rushes towards the burning building only to be stopped by Mike.  Chris proceeds to breakdown into tears, admitting that he does not want to die.  Mike asks one final time if he can take him to rehab, and Chris finally agrees as long as it’s right then and there.

Mike and Chris’ destiny has been changed seemingly for the better.  Both surviving the many dangers thrown at them, Chris choosing the path of rehabilitation, and Mike succeeding in saving his friend.  It’s all surprisingly upbeat for a cosmic-horror film, even for the characters themselves.  Mike then exclaims the cursed words one must never say within a story; “Hey we gave that thing a story with a happy ending”.  It’s the ultimate jinx in a story to openly exclaim how well things are going, and sure enough, the cosmic being appears on cue to make Mike regret such phrase.  The being is withheld from the audience’s view, who only see a large, menacing shadow engulf a terrified Mike and Chris.  Chris grovels at the ground apologizing to the being, while Mike merely asks if they can try it another way—his only response being an inhuman roar before the film cuts to the credits.

Resolution is a strange oxymoron of hope and despair.  The being is a textbook example of Lovecraftian horror, right down to the protagonist investigating clues to eventually comprehend the basic structure of such incomprehensible grotesque entity.  And yet despite the utter despair and horror brought by the being, Resolution is a notably uplifting story about hope, redemption, and selflessness.  Would you believe that the heart of this film was not initially planned?  Yeah, the entire detox plotline I've been praising wildly was initially added as a means to give the story more structure as Mike uncovers the mystery behind the entity.  It's a case of unintentional genius from the directors, but one they learned from and utilized effectively in their future films.

Resolution’s spiritual successor The Endless does answer many of the film’s questions including what the entity is, who some of the side characters—such as the religious cult—really are, and what ends up happening to Mike and Chris.  And yet these answers are unneeded to fully appreciate and enjoy Resolution for what it brings.  I’ve even seen some really cool fan theories on Resolution’s plot that (while technically, canonically incorrect) bring to the table some awesome ideas and make a strong argument that the film’s ambiguity is a strength that didn’t need to be answered.  My personal theory is what the film's audience is viewing is actually a VHS tape version of Mike and Chris' journey, just as they viewed similar stories through photos, records, and tapes.  Resolution is nothing more than a video some other unfortunate victim of the entity is watching as they become stuck in its twisted game (maybe we ourselves are the victims?)  Whatever be the case, along with Another Earth, Resolution showcases that some of the decade’s best, most unique films come from its most low budget and obscure.