Until the female lead is revealed to be a grossly mutating shapeshifter who devours animals in order to keep her human appearance from dissolving into gooey ick, Spring could be mistaken for a relaxed little indie about budding love. In fact, the film’s idea seems to come from a jokey proposition: What if you were watching one of those walking-and-talking indie romances in the style of Richard Linklater’s Before series, and it suddenly turned into a horror flick? Though slowed by artiness and a certain overly earnest attitude, Spring manages to catch some of the appeal of such a genre-blending experiment.
Evan (played by Lou Taylor Pucci) is a mid-20s American drifting through Italy in the wake of his parents’ death. In a small coastal town, he strikes sparks with a sultry, elusive local, Louise (Nadia Hilker), who doesn’t like to explain much about herself. And yet they do a lot of talking (see Linklater reference). Evan is living the life—thanks to a grizzled farmer (Francesco Carnelutti), he gets a job and a free place to stay, and he’s strolling around a cobblestone Italy that looks as romantic as the one in Three Coins in a Fountain. And there’s this flirty woman, who has a great apartment and two pet rabbits. Granted, it’s troubling when the rabbits abruptly vanish, but hey, there’s always a learning curve when you meet someone new. You fall in love, and you have to take on the whole person, warts and all, right? In this case, the warts are gigantic and sometimes sprout fangs.
I imagine co-directors Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead have seen Cat People (1942) and Night Tide (1961) and a few other movies about men who fall in love with women who are not what they seem. Spring shares a lyrical approach with those two films, but it tries something new. Where most such tales end in horror, this one gets some humor and sweetness out of Evan’s determination to work with his new girlfriend to deal with her issues. It’s like a sincere little indie in which a lover has to overcome commitment-phobia—just slightly exaggerated here. Benson and Moorhead don’t nail all of it; some of the conversations feel stilted, and I’m not sure why we are treated to periodic shots that float above the town: a sign of a supernatural presence, or proof that the filmmakers could put their camera on a drone? Overall, though, the gene-splicing here is pretty intriguing.
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SPRING Runs Fri., March 27–Thurs., April 2 & Sun., April 5-Tues., April 7 at Grand Illusion. Not rated. 109 minutes.
