Faith can be a weapon or a salve depending on the person who wields it. Texas Cult House, which had its world premiere Thursday night at the Austin Film Festival, understands this dynamic well, using it and the real-life horrors of conservative Christianity to tell a unique but uneven story.
The movie begins, like many horror movies, with teenage shenanigans. Austin, a gay teen (Julius Royale Duenas Cruz), and his friends decide to celebrate their last day of high school by partying it up in the abandoned home of Deacon Jones (Ryan Cooper). Jones was an infamous cult leader in the area, who practiced exorcisms and other suspect activities that took a child’s life.
What Austin’s friends don’t know is that their friend was once subject to the traumatic happenings of the cult. Austin’s mother (Adrianne Palicki) took him and his siblings to the Deacon right after his father’s passing, and Austin has had to live with that trauma ever since. When the party starts going awry, Austin will have to confront his past and his faith.
Some great components of Texas Cult House make it an enjoyable watch for new or old horror fans alike. The set-up is classic for the genre: A bunch of teens go off into forbidden territory and everything goes wrong. The locations, all shot on writer-director Julia Barnett’s property, feel immersive and just far enough away from civilization to cause an appropriate amount of panic.
The practical effects also feel like something that new and old horror heads can appreciate, as an introduction to the gorier parts of the genre, or a nice attempt at something that helps solidify the atmosphere of the film. For instance, a young girl’s jaw is eaten off of her face, and the result is something stomach-turning. It’s nice that the film leans into the tangibility of practical effects instead of substituting them with computer-generated dreck.
The bones of the film are impressive, but at the heart of the narrative is a throughline that won’t work for everyone. Texas Cult House straddles an interesting ideological line: simultaneously condemning the practices of fringe, conservative Christianity but holding onto the Christian faith regardless. It’s a hopeful and frustrating message, with a tension that could be more fleshed out. Austin is traumatized by what happened during his time at the Deacon’s home, but aside from some quick moments at the beginning of the film, as when Austin refuses the scripture notes his mom puts in his and his sister’s lunchboxes, he doesn’t seem upset enough to make the conflict more pronounced.
Still, there are suggestions of a complicated and narratively promising tension that I hope is explored more in the coming films. That’s right, according to Barnett, there is a prequel of sorts already on the way, Texas Cult House: 1989. I hope the series can expand on the ideas presented here, and lean into the real terror: the complexities of holding two different truths within yourself while surviving the unthinkable.
Texas Cult House
World Premiere
Monday, Oct. 28, 6:45pm, Galaxy HighlandCatch up with all of The Austin Chronicle‘s Austin Film Festival coverage.
This article appears in October 25 • 2024.