dir. Seth A. Seth
Set during a parasitic outbreak, parasitoligist Fret (Anna Hopkins) must work against the clock to make scientific breakthroughs towards a cure as the world, and those close to her, fall victim to the horrific symptoms. However, whilst out on a break, she is attacked by an unknown assailant and awakes to find herself incarcerated in a life suspending pod attached to various wires and tubes. Not only must she fight to escape, but Fret must also figure out why she was put in the chamber, and by whom.
Any feature tackling the subject of a pandemic will come under extreme scrutiny from here on out, and so it’s intriguing to witness the onslaught of outbreak horror and the different takes filmmakers are creating from what we now know as a completely realistic theme. Tin Can has foregone the usual zombie-based angle of pandemic terror and instead, with visuals strongly influenced by H.R. Giger, travelled the sci-fi route, set in a bleak future with intense smatterings of Cronenbergian body horror.
Despite the impressive biomechanical set designs, the (mainly) single location setup does not lend itself well to the story: whilst sometimes this can create a sense of tension and claustrophobia, here the lack of a cohesive plot – or any sort of fully realised character development – causes the film’s narration to be waywardly adrift, with no clear end point. That said, Tin Can’s blend of sci-fi tradition and brooding hopelessness will suit fans of plague horror who are in search of something other than the usual characters trying to escape the infected.