Monolith confirms that there’s nothing on the planet that’s scarier than a podcast. Jokes aside, Matt Vesely’s debut feature is an expertly crafted chamber-piece that ramps up the tension in deviously simple ways. Using some of the bare essential techniques of filmmaking, the team behind Monolith remind their viewers of the classic adage that you can oftentimes do more with less. The film follows a woman who has recently started a podcast after becoming involved in a scandal as an investigative journalist. Set in a beautifully modern home, and solely starring Evil Dead Rise actress Lily Sullivan, screenwriter Lucy Campbell provides all the information the audience might need in one fell swoop. Equipped with a soothing voice, a microphone, headphones, and audio equipment, Sullivan is only ever referred to as “The Interviewer.” With a brilliant performance to absolutely lock into, Sullivan grips our attention in the same way her character would reel in true crime obsessed listeners.
From the way she conducts herself in each interview, it’s clear that Sullivan’s character is one that will do just about anything to break a story. That’s not to say she is an immoral character, but the film certainly frames her actions, both seen and unseen, in a way that places her in a bit of a gray area. In an age where everybody on social media wants to be the first to share news, The Interviewer’s agenda is put into question even more. It makes for a deeply compelling character study as her actions become more and more volatile, and that would be the case even if the thrilling sci-fi/horror twist of the film was stripped. Lucky for us, Vesely’s film trusts its audience has the patience to chew over both, and the final product is an unnerving joy of a film. As The Interviewer creepily finds herself wrapped up in a conspiratorial mystery of sorts, the well crafted genre elements of Monolith come forth. Seeing as Sullivan is the only person we ever see on screen, the inherent challenge of Monolith presents itself; but it’s in this challenge that the film shines.
The Interviewer begins receiving calls from individuals who have experienced the mystery of “The Black Brick.” In these calls, haunting visions are detailed, and in turn, visualized on screen. Empty rooms are slowly explored with steady, painfully slow camerawork, and the audio of the caller is jacked up much louder than anything else in the film. These intense descriptions, paired with the menacing score and horror of what’s lurking around the corner, really capitalize on just how scary something can be when we can’t yet fully perceive what it is. All that’s to say, there is a clear reason why, true crime podcasts especially, have erupted into an entire industry. Monolith doesn’t rely on shock value nearly as much as it relies on a deeply underlying sense of dread, but that’s not to say there isn’t a distinct vision of horror present. The last 25 minutes play out a frightening idea with immense ramifications for the world within Monolith. In turn, the final sequence of this film flips the camera back into the hands of the audience, and forces us to internalize what we’ve just seen. The clever ending of Monolith is one that shouldn’t be spoiled, because the only catharsis this tense film provides in the end will likely be a collective gasp of shock.
Monolith celebrated its world premiere at Adelaide Film Festival in late 2022, and was recently seen at the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival. For more information about the film, head right here.