★★☆☆☆
Over the past few months, the social media accounts of Emerson student film Glory and Gore have gone viral, garnering millions of likes and hundreds of thousands of followers. This media-born excitement resulted in high expectations for the early screening held at Coolidge Corner Theatre in Brookline on Thursday night.
The short film, written and directed by Gianna Cavarozzi and Lyanna Zammas, ultimately provided insufficient substance underneath the dark academia aesthetic that attracted so much attention online.
The project began as a TV pilot which received a $700 grant from Emerson College. After clips began to trend on social media, the production team decided to cut ties with the University in order to be able to crowdfund. This led the small TV show project to blossom into an exciting, high-budget student film.
The film surrounds a male elitist symposium, in the Platonic sense, at a university. Despite having a troubled past, the group seems to have turned a progressive leaf with their new president Cassius Sinclair (Javier Garcia). What was previously a club imbued with extraordinarily hedonistic behavior, does not drink anymore nor partake in the animalistic ritual traditions that riddle its history.
There is intense reference to the symposium’s grisly past, including an implied murder of a fellow student. These references, however, lack acute depth and value within the film. They feel awkward and forced in a way that glosses them over, especially because they provide little help in developing the plot, providing a purely dramatic effect.
The symposium’s reformation faces issues when Brooks Vaughn (Mateo Bailey), their former president who was expelled by the university, makes a return. His resurfacing alters the power dynamic of the group, as some members remain steadfastly subservient to him.
Sinclair initially remains resolute in upholding the club’s new culture, calling the traditions Vaughn wants to reinstate “medieval.” Soon after, without much pretext, there is the disturbing scene in which the members slice open their palms and let their blood drip into a glass of wine for Sinclair to drink.
The throughline is shaky at best. Major changes in character are backed by little to no actual development shown, and the alleged turning points don’t have the poignant quality one would expect.
Interestingly, despite clearly seeking to impart his influence and revert the symposium to its twisted habits, Vaughn refuses to return to the presidency despite a unanimous vote—he chooses to simply bend Sinclair to his will instead. Other hollow acts of drama are included during this part of the film, including a drugging and physical attack.
The feature concluded with the symposium returning to its old ways before its members turn on the club and report it to the university, a decision lacking any real pretext. The symposium finally shuts down, with its members expelled.
Sinclair is distraught and unleashes his anger on Vaughn, who he blames. Vaughn, in an interesting turn, drops to his knees and expresses how all he ever wanted was to just feel close to Sinclair.
The actors provided the film with entertainment despite the weak plot and sometimes trite writing. While melodramatic and performative for its own sake at times, the acting was not the flaw. At some points, however, the overly bold score spoon-fed viewers what they were supposed to feel, and without it, many scenes would feel emotionally empty.
Despite the excitement for Glory and Gore, the film did not hold up to be much more than its enticing TikTok-friendly aesthetic. The background of the film’s plot is alluded to ineffectively, often feeling theatrical and ingenuine. It was a similar case with the storyline, which had large developments without the connecting events necessary to give it coherence, making the plot feel disjointed.
