Reel Review: Tenants (2024)

“Tenants” (2024) is a mesmerizing horror anthology that turns an apartment complex into a labyrinth of human frailty and supernatural terror.

In the labyrinthine corridors of an apartment complex that seems to exist outside the bounds of reality, Tenants weaves a tapestry of horror that is as emotionally resonant as it is chilling.

This indie anthology film, helmed by a quartet of directors—Jonathan Louis Lewis, Sean Mesler, Blake Reigle, and Buz Wallick—offers a smorgasbord of terror that is both cohesive and delightfully varied.

From the moment Mary O’Neil’s Joni emerges from a fleshy cocoon in the building’s parking garage, we’re plunged into a world where the mundane and the monstrous coexist in uneasy harmony. As Joni desperately searches for her sister, we’re introduced to a cast of tenants whose stories form the meat of this anthology.

Each segment in Tenants shines in its own right, showcasing different facets of the horror genre.

From the body horror of “Acting Rash,” where a washed-up child star (brilliantly portrayed by Christa Collins) contends with a career-threatening skin condition, to the psychological terror of “Hoarder,” which explores grief through the lens of compulsive behavior, the film runs the gamut of fear.

Standout performances abound, with Tara Erickson delivering a heartbreaking turn as a grieving mother in a segment that builds slowly but pays off in spades.

Clarke Wolfe (a standout in Malum), who took home Best Supporting Actress honors for her work in Tenants at the Hollywood Blood Horror Film Festival) and Fayna Sanchez absolutely stole the show in “Need Anything,” a darkly comedic tale of roommate rivalry gone horribly awry, directed with a deft touch by Buz Wallick.

The anthology’s greatest strength lies in its thematic cohesion.

At its core, Tenants is a meditation on loss, acceptance, and the dangers of clinging to past traumas.

The apartment building itself becomes a character; its impossible architecture is a physical manifestation of the emotional labyrinths its inhabitants navigate.

Visually, the film impresses with strong cinematography throughout, shot on Red Komodo and exhibited in 4K. The production design effectively sells the haunted atmosphere of the building, creating a palpable sense of dread that permeates even the more lighthearted segments.

While some stories hit harder than others, the overall quality remains high. Even Blake Reigle’s brief but amusing “Nah” segment serves a purpose, offering a moment of levity amidst the escalating tension and emotional weight of some shorts.

The wraparound story, directed by Buz Wallick, does an admirable job of tying the disparate elements together, delivering a powerful thematic punch that elevates the entire anthology.

Tenants is a testament to the power of anthologies to explore the human condition through the lens of horror. It’s a film that understands that true terror often comes not from external threats but from the monsters we harbor within ourselves — our grief, our desires, our fears, our inability to let go.

It’s a compelling, often harrowing, and sometimes gut-wrenching journey about the horror that hits closest to home and what it means to be painfully human.