Trailer to
Cheat:
Like the two mentioned — and much better — earlier movies, Cheat is a supernatural horror: the deadly sex angle of It Follows is liberally salted with the ghost-with-a-grudge angle of The Ring. But unlike in the latter film, the long-haired brunette ghost in a white dress in Cheat looks more like a petulant child who didn't get cha-cha heels for Christmas than she does look scary, and unlike the former film, in which the sexually transmittable ghost aspect had oddly political undertones, the sex-means-death angle in Cheat, as the title itself indicates, is noticeably more moralistic and old fashioned. Not that the old-fashioned sex equals death aspect necessarily makes for a bad horror movie, as is evident by an endless multitude of classic and not-so-classic slashers have proven, it is just that Cheat never manages to build enough tension or dread to be effective as a scary flick. (And effectively scary is one thing that both It Follows and The Ring are in spades.)
The basic narrative involves young art student Maeve (Rubenesque Corin Clay, of Secrets of a Side Chick [2022 / trailer], above not from the film) who arrives in the college town of Silvercreek on a drawing scholarship funded by Charlie Walker (Mick "Wooden Australian" Thyer of The Long Dark Trail [2022 / trailer]), in whose big mansion she is also housed. The scholarship is in memory of his daughter, who some time previously apparently killed herself — one of the plethora of inexplicable suicides that the town has suffered for decades. Both Charlie and Maeve have a strained if not broken relationship with their respective significant other: the Walkers, prior to the death of their child, were talking divorce, something that is stalled now that Mrs Walker is in a sanatorium, while Maeve's squeeze, whom she no longer really sees as her boyfriend, is in jail, whence he regularly tries to contact her via collect phone calls. A few nights and wines later, without all that much build up or foreshadowing or evident mutual attraction, the two fragile souls spend the night together — which angers the local killer ghost, that of Clara Miller (April Clark of Evil Nun [2025 / trailer]), who, some hundred or so years earlier, after being killed by her cheating father (after she shot his mistress dead), has busily gotten supernatural revenge by killing any and all people in Silvercreek who cheat in their relationship.
Nothing new, plotwise — angry ghost kills for some reason of varied inaneness, and those who know that they gonna die try to find a way to stop the curse — but serviceable enough that it is almost a surprise that the directors Kevin Ignatius and Nick Psinakis manage to screw up their own script so badly. Sure, the cinematography and drone shots are often eye candy and beautiful, and the out-of-place electronic score oddly orphic, but little else nice can be said of the movie. Indeed, the acting is abysmal, the overall filmic rhythm stultifying, the movie is never scary, and the script is full of head-scratching moments that leave you shaking your head.
For one, damaged soul or not, by modern standards Mr. Walker definitely abuses his position as benefactor by sleeping with his awardee, which makes identification a bit difficult. And once the almost perplexingly incomprehensible night of sex has transpired, both participants are rather unperturbed by some rather unordinary souvenirs: Maeve awakens to a sheet blood-drenched in her crotch area, and Charlie literally pees blood when he makes a piss pause at the side of the road. (Seldom has foreshadowing been worth such a giggle.) The sudden revelation that tertiary character Lydia (Danielle Grotsky) is also doomed comes out of nowhere, especially since she apparently cheated before Maeve and Charlie but starts seeing Clara later than they do. Inanely, once the three realize and begin discussing their predicament, a sudden confrontation with Clara on the street actually sends them running in different directions — an act scripted less for logic than for allowing for another bloody death. And, really: who has ever heard of a ghost that can be killed by beheading? (Okay there's more to that than should be mentioned here, but Maeve and Charlie truly do capture Clara at one point and behead her.)
The final survivor of Cheat is hardly surprising, nor is the life-saving solution that is portended by Clara's great-great-grandson but missed by all those doomed. While the solution logically infers that those in open relationships will never suffer a visit from Clara, one is left wondering whether simply leaving town might not also have been a solution (doubtful). Likewise, the movie is so hetro-centic that, despite a 2023 release date, the concept of cheating lesbians, gays, or bisexuals is never addressed, even tangentially — but then, they didn't exist in Clara's day, so maybe they don't fall under the curse. (Not.)
Cheat is the filmic equivalent of a penis soufflé that doesn't rise. As such, it is not really worth bothering with, as it only disappoints. That said, technically and visually, the film does convey the feeling that were Kevin Ignatius and Nick Psinakis to ever improve their scriptwriting skills, and learn how to garner decent performances from their actors, they might be able to produce a decent movie. (Perhaps they already have: Cheat is not their first feature film together and, at the time of writing this review, their latest independent joint project, Valley View Motel [2026 / trailer] is due for release soon.)
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