My sister, who is deathly afraid of snakes and abhors horror movies, at least would've appreciated that moment when Anne Ramsay tells a snake to go fuck itself.
For the first half hour or so, The Taking of Deborah Logan feels like a horror classic in the making. The conceit is clever and there's an inherent interest and sympathy for Deborah (a physically demanding performance by Jill Larson) and her rapidly deteriorating health. Anne Ramsay, another veteran performer, is also quietly affecting as her long-suffering daughter.
The film crew following them are thinly-drawn and toggle between stereotypical and archetypal behavior, but despite veering dangerously close to annoyance, they're not complete morons and don't wear out their welcome. When things go south, one crew member even quits - as one should in this kind of situation - and I kept expecting him to come back, but nope! He's gone and he made the right call, which is more than I can say for a number of horror mockumentaries where the documentarians continue to shoot despite mounting dangers.
What hampers and ultimately fails the movie is its shift into a conventional, predictable, and cliched third act which could've come from any standard studio-mandated outline. There's enough vested interest to stick with the characters until the end, but it feels like a missed opportunity since the film came so close to being one of the great ones.
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