We Might Hurt Each Other (2022)

Rating: B-

Dir: Jonas Trukanas
Star: Sarunas Rapolas Meliesius, Gabija Bargailaite, Povilas Jatkevicius, Saule Rasimaite
a.k.a. Pensive

Sometimes, it’s nice just to go into a movie blind, with effectively no knowledge about it. That was pretty much the case here. Browsing Tubi, I saw the title, and on seeing the cast names, realized this might be from an exotic location (for some loose definition of “exotic”), and could fit into our 31 Countries of Horror feature. IMDb confirmed this was Lithuanian, so it got slapped on the watch-list, and completely forgotten about until I hit play. With neither of the titles revealing much, it was time to spin the Wheel o’ Horror! Where will it stop? Found footage? Vampires? Haunted house? Turns out, we land on “Old-school slasher”, albeit with some wrinkles to add novelty.

The original title in Lithuanian is Rūpintojėlis, pronounced roo-pinto-YAY-lis, which translates as “the one who worries.” I can see how that became Pensive – and also why the distributors said, “What?” and promptly changed it for an ominous line of dialogue from the film. However, it is worth mentioning that the original title has additional resonance locally. It’s a type of religious icon, depicting Christ supporting his head with one hand, while wearing a tired and sad expression. In particular, “As Christianity spread throughout Lithuania in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, so did images of Rūpintojėlis, as the wandering woodcarvers of native folk culture carved him into hollowed-out tree trunks wherever they went.” Remember that, for we’ll circle back to it later.

We begin at a high-school graduation, where most of the class are making plans to celebrate the end of their education. An exception is Marius (Meliesius), who has never quite fit in. While not stupid, he’s bland and cautious, to the point his parents are encouraging him to go into the exciting world of insurance actuarial work. He has a crush on class hottie Brigita (Bargailaite), who – of course! – is going out with the school’s top jock, a young man scheduled to become an NBA draft pick [Lithuania is regularly a top-10 ranked nation in basketball]. When the planned party falls through, Marius sees an opportunity, swiping keys from his estate agent mother to a remote cottage, and offering it as an alternate location.

On arrival, it’s not exactly perfect, clearly suffering from fire damage. Good enough though, and the graduating class settle in to enjoy a rave, barbecue, drinking, and making out. In other words: all the classic behaviours, designed to attract a masked serial killer. Fortunately, Miss Exposition, Lithu-goth Saule (Rasimaite) is able to shed light on the local circumstances. The former owner was an artist, Algis, the sole survivor of a tragic fire which claimed his family, and left him horribly burned. He turned his sorrow into creepy, carved wooden sculptures – hence the connection to Rūpintojėlis mentioned above –  which are now littered about the place. What better source of firewood for the barbecue? After all, Saule thinks Algis ended up committing suicide, so it’s not as if anything could possibly go wrong, is it?

You will surely not be surprised when I reveal that Algis isn’t dead, and nor is he happy about his family artwork becoming kindling. The first deaths occur after the victims are trapped in a sauna [apparently a feature of all remote Baltic cottages: I don’t recall the cabin in The Evil Dead having one], before he then graduates to more direct, stabby methods of dispatch. Marius, who tried to dissuade his classmates from desecrating Algis’s memorial work, is spared immediate death. But is that because, as Brigita sneeringly suggests, Marius is simply too boring to be of interest? Regardless, it’s up to him and best friend Vytas (Jatkevicius), who is developing a thing for Saule, to try and rescue the survivors.

This is an interesting exercise. In particular, it has enough meat on its familiar bones to merit discussion, to the point I don’t need to delve into the history of local cinema, as for some other countries in this series. What it does particularly well, is construct the obvious tropes of the genre among the students, then subverts their fates with an almost wilful degree of perversity. It’s difficult to discuss this without spoilers, which would rob the film of its pleasures, so apologies if I remain vague. Saule, for example, is obviously set up as your prototypical final girl: informed, chaste and resourceful. However, does she survive Algis? And does she survive the movie? Note: those are two separate questions. I’ll say no more there.

Similarly, we might expect Marius to go full-Ash, turning from a milquetoast into a hero, as he gets the girl and kills the baddie. Doesn’t quite happen like that – though as the final scene makes clear, perception is what matters, when all is said and done. I’m not convinced the end fully justifies the means, with a first half which is so busy depicting its characters, you will be forgiven for wondering when, if ever, this was going to become a horror movie. It also does stretch belief that a single man, without firearms or paranormal talents, could slaughter so many fit young people with such apparent ease. The fact the biggest spell of slaughter happens almost entirely off-camera is disappointing too.

However, this kept my attention once things kicked off, and that’s something of an achievement, since the slasher sub-genre is definitely not my preferred slice of horror. I’ve tended to find its entries tired and repetitive. Despite initial concerns in this direction, by the time you reach the end, I found myself impressed by the makers’ ability to mix things up. They do a good job of crafting characters with broad strokes, with class druggie Zygis likely the most entertaining example there. If the scenario doesn’t contain much new at the elevator pitch level, it’s executed with enough Baltic cynicism to become a bit more than the same old, same old.

This review is part of our October 2024 feature, 31 More Countries of Horror.