The Empty Man (2020), FilmFour, co-edited, written, and directed by David Prior.

https://www.channel4.com/programmes/the-empty-man

This is David Prior’s film. I was going to write a post about Celtic playing Aberdeen. Couldn’t be arsed. Or A Brief History of Seven Killings, but that would need too much thought. I know, thought isn’t rationed like sweeties, but I’m sure you know what I mean.

The Empty Man seemed ideal because I knew it would be shite. And I wasn’t disappointed.

I quite like horror which seems an oxymoron. I guess that’s the Catholic in me.

Well, The Empty Man started great. 1995 in the Ura Valley, Bhutan

Four pals do that hiking thing. Paul hears a whistling noise. There’s been a recent television series about some people hearing a noise others can’t hear. And I think there’s something happening in one of the Scottish Islands with a similar scenario. Like pictures of Christ appearing as a cheesy Wotsits. These things happen. Don’t stew or chew.

Paul, being the lead, doesn’t have a choice. Fatalism. He falls down a hole. There’s not many boy scouts in Bhutan you can call for help. When his mates pull him out, he’s comatose. Worse than that, he’s meditating in front of some ancient evil gonk. I made that word up so I can continue without thinking, because if you blow on a bottle and whisper ‘Empty Man’ he’ll do more than a delivery of Alpine. Remember that stuff.  Like water, only they coloured it and sold it back to us as ginger? Holy Water!

Anyway, Paul’s pals get him back to a luxury house that just happens to be close to the hole he falls down but is empty. No satellite telly. Pretty sparse. No previous owners.

Transitions. Need to be good. Mine rarely are because I just make them up, hoping nobody will notice. They rarely do because I’m not haunted by readers.

Missouri 2018, former detective James Lasombra is grieving the death of his wife, Allison, and their son, Henry, who died in a car accident a year ago. Do the maths. It’s contemporary.  All that old stuff about Bhutan. That was years ago. Lasombra is an alky.

I’m always interested in the way people make a living. He runs some kind of shops like a locksmith. He’s facing a problem bigger than nobody turning up for his birthday non-celebration. He’s paly with Nora a neighbour with a grungy teenage daughter. Before Amanda ran away from home, scrawling a message, ‘The Empty Man made me do it’ on the wall.

Being a former cop and locksmith he works out the right combination. The Pontifex Institute. A bit like Scientology but with no need for lawyers. They just Schick The Empty Man on you.

It was working up until then, with that Lost Boy’s vibe.

I could tell you about tulpa.

An experiment in which, much like a dead body was washed up on Mediterranean shores with false documents to convince the Nazis that D-Day wasn’t D-Day, a false character with a general history that starting moving planchettes and appearing on and in the ether.

The detective needs to find Amanda. All her pals have topped themselves. Hanging under the same bridge where they whispered The Empty Man’s name into a bottle.

Derivative? Don’t give it too much thought.

It doesn’t really hang together but looks good. I once lived next door to The Empty Man, only it was a woman (discuss)?

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