Review: "Blue Film"

A shuttering cautionary tale anchored by two dynamic central performances.

Elliot Tuttle’s feature directorial debut Blue Film is rather shocking. Shocking in a way that one can recognize why almost every major film festival turned it down before its eventual theatrical release. Despite not having a single ounce of blood or it being a categorized as a horror picture, Blue Film is bound to be one of the eeriest, and most squirm-inducing, films you’ll see all year.

This chamber drama centers on a camboy named Aaron Eagle (Kieron Moore) who arranges to spend the night with Hank (Reed Birney), an older client. When Aaron first arrives, the then-masked Hank records the conversation and begins questioning him about his profession. However, as the interview continues and Hank’s questions become more intrusive, the mask comes off in more ways than one as Hank reveals himself and he (*spoiler alert*) turns out to be Aaron’s former middle school teacher who harbored feelings for Aaron when he was a teenager. What Aaron hoped would become a simple night on the job becomes an ever-changing shift in power dynamics.

Kieron Moore stars as camboy Aaron Eagle in Elliot Tuttle’s “Blue Film.” (Photo courtesy of Obscured Releasing)

Despite always being in service of his clients, including those who pay for his live camshows, Aaron is someone who likes to assure his command of a situation as evidenced by the initial interview where he gives antagonizing answers to Hank’s questions. Yet, with Hank’s sudden unmasking, Aaron finds himself in a swift position of susceptibility. With him being in the presence of someone who knows him too well, Aaron has a feeling of being trapped even as he keeps the job going due to the large sum of money he hopes to earn.

The intricacies in Aaron’s characterization are as well-orchestrated in Kieron Moore’s magnetic leading performance as they are in the writing. Moore flawlessly exudes Aaron’s cocky, self-absorbed nature that proves to be as much a mask for his inner frailty as it is a way of playing up his dominant machismo persona. Furthermore, similar to Harris Dickinson in Beach Rats, another disarming star-making depiction of fragile masculinity, Moore even pulls off playing an American dude-bro so well you’ll forget that he’s British.

Then there’s the performance where the film’s horror elements mostly lie: Reed Birney as Hank. While his portrayal doesn’t lean too much into over-the-top boogeyman territory, whenever Birney does a slight shift in his voice and posture, acting in “nurturing teacher” mode, there’s an instant wave of unease. As Hank appears tender to endure his former student, Birney ultimately unveils Hank as the hollowed-out person that he is. A man who tries out purity to see if he’s merely capable of feeling it.

The performances from Kieron Moore and Reed Birney as two troubled men engaging in a night-long game of push-and-pull are the driving force of this story that grips you the minute that Hank’s ski mask comes off and never lets go. A story that proves that while there is a need for more uplifting, harmonious depictions of on-screen sex work, there should also be more cautionary tales like this which illustrate the dangers of crossing boundaries.

A cautionary tale, masculinity dissertation, and chilling non-horror film rolled into one, Blue Film is easily one of the year’s best feature debuts. Although it’s bound to have one want to look away from the screen, it’s still hard to forget.

Grade: A

Blue Film will be released in select theaters by Obscured Releasing starting this Friday.