In hindsight, I was likely too harsh on this movie. Let’s find out for sure.
A half of a star. That is the rating I originally gave regional filmmaker Miles Doleac’s film Hallowed Ground on the social media site for cinephiles, Letterboxd. At the time, in the roaring pre-pandemic 2019, I felt strongly that his horror movie was material meant for the film mockery show Mystery Science Theater 3000, so much so that I dubbed his work as “the new Manos: The Hands of Fate,” which is a notoriously infamous piece of hypnotically bad filmmaking. Looking back with 20/20 vision, I believe this to be a harsh statement.
Yes, I also wrote a full-blown review of Hallowed Ground for this very publication, which now seems like such an embarrassing moment for me. I once reviewed the locally filmed Jurassic World twice, and both times sang its praises. It’s amazing how time can change perspective, and reveal hidden truths. Why was I so engaged with Jurassic World and so not impressed by Hallowed Ground? Both are regional flicks, but one had more of a budget and fewer excuses for being “poor.” I believe I was taken by the self-criticism I found within the franchise sequel, and how it was almost a commentary on its own making. I believe that the strange nature of its dinosaur attacks was over-the-top entertaining in a way that ticked my sensibilities. Other than all of that? Meh. A lackluster blockbuster. And this was not something that changed as I got older, but rather how I felt all along. It just took an extended period to realize this.
Hallowed Ground deserved another look more than Jurassic World. Locally made, locally sourced, and created with more heart than a product worth millions of dollars, my mind’s eye needed to watch the film once more. Was I annoyed and in a bad mood before? Maybe. Did I just not “get” the movie? I don’t know. What is for sure is that I, as a critic, have opportunities to champion cinema in all of its potential glory, especially if it comes straight from Hollywood South. Of course, there are never any guarantees–nor should there be. But, if your instinct and gut feeling is telling you that something is wrong, you owe it to yourself and others to find a resolution.
I reviewed Hallowed Ground once. What follows is the result of my recent rewatch. The film can be rented, purchased, or streamed with ads (on Tubi):
My god, what a twisted movie. What have you done, Mr. Doleac? What have you tossed into the ether? Your film Hallowed Ground is one of the more amusing haunts that Hollywood South has ever churned out. A reel of a Mississippi burner, performing straight arson to neo-confederacy and generational traditions. A thrilling and horrific tale of Deep South lore and the absurdity of those who don’t see the blasphemy of their ways. A groovy picture, this is.
When the film was released theatrically at the Zeitgeist in New Orleans, I believe that its main attraction was being referenced as a progressive attack on regressive ideals, fought by a lesbian couple and an indigenous woman against a cult of confederate worshipping men. That’s a lot to chew on. That’s a lot to unload on an audience. That’s the perfect promotion of any movie ever, especially during the first Presidential term of a certain figure that enables and encourages hate for anything that challenges assumed norms.
Hallowed Ground is about a married lesbian couple who, with some domestic baggage in their recent past, take a vacation to a secluded rental in the woods. From this setup, trouble is bound to pick up, and in more ways than one. An uninvited male visitor arrives to stir a relationship pot of boiling resentment, while a truce between properties of land is broken by an accidental cut on a barbed wire line of separation. This cut is both literal and figurative since it was an actual fall over an actual line, and a spillage of blood too, born from a kiss between two women. Of unwelcome blood. Of non-traditional blood. And here, blood is sacred.
And a sacrifice? That must be made.
Director Miles Doleac, who has starred in a number of intensely acted roles, plays double duty behind the camera and in front, as leader of this production and as villain of the movie. Conjuring various turns of ritualistic settings, ranging from creepy to creepier, Doleac manages to entertain, fright, and disgust all at once. Such values aren’t difficult to grasp, since this is the man behind the incendiary and crazy movie The Dinner Party. How that one got released at all is a miracle of grand proportions and one that I’m most thankful for. I first viewed The Dinner Party after my initial Hallowed Ground review, and I admit that I did so begrudgingly. Afterward, I felt ashamed for my presumptions about the depths and heights that Doleac could reach and achieve with independent cinema.
There is nothing average about Doleac’s catalog of movies, all being as intense as his acting. There’s always something lurking underneath the skin, subtle sometimes and big often. Go for broke, he says. Go further, I say. And further, he goes with every following flick. Hallowed Ground, as it stands, is tied for me as his most romantic feature, right next to his brilliant anti-musical Open. Romantic in how it portrays the trials and tribulations of progressive love for one another, and in how chaos can birth something wonderful. A hopeful romantic, Doleac’s works ironically are.
Flesh-eating Southern traditions, dramatic toxicity between troubled people, demonic creatures of the night and day, and the mysteries of humanity all make what Miles Doleac and his krewe develop. Hallowed Ground bends and curves to classical themes of family rivalries and epic culture clashes. While being a bit heavy, the film is ultimately pretty light as it is never a sensory overload. Things are held back a bit, but appropriately so. It’s an easy movie, despite the too-true content that can only come from places unknown within places so real.
And what else is real? Second chances. Not for movies, but for moviegoers such as myself. Oh boy, was I missing something special. It’ll happen again with other films, but as long as I can sit and think, the joy of cinema will never be far off. I’ll let everything in, if I can be so open next time and forever. 3.5/5 ⚜️🍿
Bill Arceneaux has been writing about movies in Hollywood South since 2011. He’s a voting member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association and has a newsletter blog called Moviegoing with Bill. Follow him on Letterboxd and Bluesky.
