Why does anyone go into an abandoned hospital at night? Various horror films demonstrate that it’s a bad idea, but even aside from that, an abandoned hospital is filled with creepy corridors, shadowy rooms where nefarious types can hide, not to mention all manner of ominous equipment from wheelchairs to surgical beds. If anyone has a legitimate excuse, it would be police officers responding to a disturbance, and thus begins ‘Last Radio Call’, the second feature from indie filmmaker Isaac Rodriguez.
Early supertext informs the viewer that we are viewing bodycam footage of Officer David Serling (Jason Scarbrough) on July 18th, 2018, responding to a disturbance within, you guessed it, an abandoned hospital. If the Overlook Hotel in ‘The Shining’ features cinema’s most unsettling corridors, then the corridors of Yorktown Hospital give it a run for its money. The restricted angle of the bodycam means that we share the perspective of David and his partner Giles Ali (Ali Alkhafaji). Thus, when the footage cuts out all we are left with is a deep sense of dread. From there, we cut to the assembly of a documentary based around David’s widow Sarah (Sarah Froelich), determined to solve the mystery of her husband’s disappearance.
Revolving around a disappearance is important. A death might have provided Sarah with a motivation of revenge or at least seeking justice, but David’s disappearance creates a prominent absence at the heart of the film. Rodriguez uses the documentary style to create a legitimate sense of investigation, and a justification for the camera to keep rolling. A common problem with the premise of having the camera that records the action be a part of the action is a justification to continue filming. Rodriguez provides this justification by having protagonist Sarah be the subject of the film rather than the filmmaker, whom we never see and is only referred to in captions as ‘we’ and ‘us’. There may be a filmmaking crew here who are openly acknowledged, but they always remain peripheral. Therefore, our attention remains squarely on Sarah.
This focus proves to be wise, as Sarah is an engaging presence. She is neither overly whiny nor brash, her frustration and desperation never less than convincing. Indeed, she feels like a regular person encountering a thoroughly irregular situation with which she becomes obsessed. Confessions to the camera such as ‘I have no life and I have no shame’ come across as genuine rather than bravado, and her resigned attitude to encounters with senior police officers as well as scepticism towards other witnesses also help to draw the viewer into her plight. Most revealingly, we see her continuous downing of gin or vodka, which she slips unsubtly into water bottles. One drunken episode leads to her collapsing and vomiting, actor Froelich giving a naked and unvarnished performance.
The release of bodily fluids, as well as sequences of the camera following Sarah as she runs through trees and corridors, draws inevitable and not always favourable comparisons with ‘The Blair Witch Project’. The abandoned hospital vibe echoes various other works, including ‘The Ward’, ‘Slapface’ and especially ‘Session 9’. The filmmaking conceit of an external source documenting a seemingly supernatural mystery is reminiscent of ‘Lake Mungo’. Like that film, ‘Last Radio Call’ steadily reveals more and more details, building up Sarah’s picture of the events surrounding David’s disappearance. While this picture is illuminating, the disparate elements are not always cohered as successfully as they might be. Native American folk horror, cover-ups by local authorities, temporal distortions, possession and madness, possible church abuse are jumbled in with the found footage and documentary filming, as well as moments of frame analysis horror where something in the image seems wrong. It is to Rodriguez’s credit that despite skipping through these various tropes and features, he still maintains our sympathy for Sarah and her dogged quest to learn what happened to David.
Rodriguez clearly deserves extensive credit in this epitome of independent filmmaking. Working as writer-director, producer, editor, as well as on sound, sound mixing, location scouting, costume design, production design and shooting, this filmmaker demonstrates a strong command of the multiple areas of cinema. If viewed as a documentary, it maintains the distance we expect of the genre. As a found footage film, it uses the technique judiciously, not overplaying the convenience and capitalising on snatched images, incorporating various media including mobile phone video, VHS and YouTube. Much of the film is unsettling and there are some truly horrific images. There is perhaps more explanation than entirely necessary but, overall, this is an effectively chilling blend of tropes and techniques. If you like a good scare, it’s one to watch with the lights off. And if you ever wanted to explore an abandoned hospital at night, just don’t.
Early supertext informs the viewer that we are viewing bodycam footage of Officer David Serling (Jason Scarbrough) on July 18th, 2018, responding to a disturbance within, you guessed it, an abandoned hospital. If the Overlook Hotel in ‘The Shining’ features cinema’s most unsettling corridors, then the corridors of Yorktown Hospital give it a run for its money. The restricted angle of the bodycam means that we share the perspective of David and his partner Giles Ali (Ali Alkhafaji). Thus, when the footage cuts out all we are left with is a deep sense of dread. From there, we cut to the assembly of a documentary based around David’s widow Sarah (Sarah Froelich), determined to solve the mystery of her husband’s disappearance.
Revolving around a disappearance is important. A death might have provided Sarah with a motivation of revenge or at least seeking justice, but David’s disappearance creates a prominent absence at the heart of the film. Rodriguez uses the documentary style to create a legitimate sense of investigation, and a justification for the camera to keep rolling. A common problem with the premise of having the camera that records the action be a part of the action is a justification to continue filming. Rodriguez provides this justification by having protagonist Sarah be the subject of the film rather than the filmmaker, whom we never see and is only referred to in captions as ‘we’ and ‘us’. There may be a filmmaking crew here who are openly acknowledged, but they always remain peripheral. Therefore, our attention remains squarely on Sarah.
This focus proves to be wise, as Sarah is an engaging presence. She is neither overly whiny nor brash, her frustration and desperation never less than convincing. Indeed, she feels like a regular person encountering a thoroughly irregular situation with which she becomes obsessed. Confessions to the camera such as ‘I have no life and I have no shame’ come across as genuine rather than bravado, and her resigned attitude to encounters with senior police officers as well as scepticism towards other witnesses also help to draw the viewer into her plight. Most revealingly, we see her continuous downing of gin or vodka, which she slips unsubtly into water bottles. One drunken episode leads to her collapsing and vomiting, actor Froelich giving a naked and unvarnished performance.
The release of bodily fluids, as well as sequences of the camera following Sarah as she runs through trees and corridors, draws inevitable and not always favourable comparisons with ‘The Blair Witch Project’. The abandoned hospital vibe echoes various other works, including ‘The Ward’, ‘Slapface’ and especially ‘Session 9’. The filmmaking conceit of an external source documenting a seemingly supernatural mystery is reminiscent of ‘Lake Mungo’. Like that film, ‘Last Radio Call’ steadily reveals more and more details, building up Sarah’s picture of the events surrounding David’s disappearance. While this picture is illuminating, the disparate elements are not always cohered as successfully as they might be. Native American folk horror, cover-ups by local authorities, temporal distortions, possession and madness, possible church abuse are jumbled in with the found footage and documentary filming, as well as moments of frame analysis horror where something in the image seems wrong. It is to Rodriguez’s credit that despite skipping through these various tropes and features, he still maintains our sympathy for Sarah and her dogged quest to learn what happened to David.
Rodriguez clearly deserves extensive credit in this epitome of independent filmmaking. Working as writer-director, producer, editor, as well as on sound, sound mixing, location scouting, costume design, production design and shooting, this filmmaker demonstrates a strong command of the multiple areas of cinema. If viewed as a documentary, it maintains the distance we expect of the genre. As a found footage film, it uses the technique judiciously, not overplaying the convenience and capitalising on snatched images, incorporating various media including mobile phone video, VHS and YouTube. Much of the film is unsettling and there are some truly horrific images. There is perhaps more explanation than entirely necessary but, overall, this is an effectively chilling blend of tropes and techniques. If you like a good scare, it’s one to watch with the lights off. And if you ever wanted to explore an abandoned hospital at night, just don’t.