If you live in an area with an HOA, you’ll probably get a kick out of “Hold the Fort” right from the start. The idea that the neighborhood busybodies who run the local homeowners association obsessing over lawn height and trash cans are actually the last line of defense against a yearly invasion from Hell is such a ridiculous premise that I was sold almost immediately. Thankfully, the movie fully commits to the bit.
The story follows Lucas (Chris Mayers) and Jenny (Haley Leary), a thirtysomething couple who think they’re finally achieving the dream of home ownership by escaping the city and moving into a quiet suburban neighborhood. Lucas is thrilled about the fresh start while Jenny is understandably less enthusiastic about having to deal with a homeowners association. Their introduction to the neighborhood comes courtesy of HOA president Jerry (Julian Smith), who invites them to the community’s annual equinox gathering. What should be a friendly meet and greet quickly turns into a blood-soaked nightmare when they discover the neighborhood sits on top of a portal to Hell that opens every year that unleashes demons, witches, zombies, and all sorts of supernatural nightmares. Suddenly, the HOA’s strict rules make a lot more sense.
What I loved most about this movie is its tone. Director William Bagley clearly understands exactly what kind of movie he’s making and he never tries to elevate it into something more serious than it needs to be. This is a zany, gory horror-comedy that wants to entertain first and foremost, and it succeeds. The HOA satire is surprisingly effective because it’s rooted in something so many homeowners can relate to. Taking the everyday annoyance of neighborhood regulations and turning it into a literal war against Hell is a genuinely funny concept.
The cast does a great job selling the insanity. Mayers and Leary are very likable, and their reactions help ground the increasingly absurd events around them. Lucas in particular becomes a fun underdog hero, following in the tradition of every bewildered horror protagonist who gets dragged into a real mess and somehow survives through sheer determination and dumb luck. The supporting cast is equally entertaining, with a collection of eccentric neighbors who feel like they stepped out of a suburban nightmare version of a community Facebook group.
The movie’s biggest strength might be its practical effects. The monster designs, gore gags, and makeup work have a delightfully low-fi charm that feels like a love letter to classic 1980s B-movie horror. There’s blood everywhere, monsters constantly appearing, and plenty of slapstick violence that manages is gross and funny at the same time. The practical creature effects are far more enjoyable than the occasional digital effects, which can look pretty rough. Still, the film’s enthusiasm and creativity make it easy to forgive those shortcomings.
The humor mostly works because the movie moves with relentless energy. There’s always another monster attack, another ridiculous death, or another absurd HOA related reveal around the corner. The throwaway dialogue and neighborhood dynamics generate some of the funniest moments, and the film has a strong midnight movie vibe that makes it easy to imagine watching with a crowd.
Despite running only around 75 minutes, it somehow feels longer. The pacing occasionally drags in the middle and some of the puns and gags feel forced. Character development is fairly thin outside of the central couple, and the digital effects sometimes clash with the otherwise charming practical aesthetic. Still, those complaints never really diminished my enjoyment.
“Hold the Fort” ultimately succeeds because of its personality. The concept is hilarious, the practical effects are fun, the cast is game for anything, and the movie never loses sight of its mission to deliver gory entertainment. It’s the sort of horror comedy that feels destined to become a cult favorite among genre fans who appreciate practical gore, goofy monsters, and movies that aren’t afraid to be a little silly.
By: Louisa Moore
Screen Zealots 