Evan Jacobs’ American Scream is a strange little film — part psychological drama, part sci-fi experiment, and all unmistakably Anhedenia. Set almost entirely inside a warehouse, it tells the story of two would-be killers whose plans unravel when they stumble across dead bodies that shouldn’t be there. As the day drags on, paranoia sets in, reality blurs, and both men begin to suspect that something — or someone — is manipulating them.
The setup is deceptively simple, but that’s part of Jacobs’ approach. Working on a shoestring budget, he leans into atmosphere and suggestion rather than spectacle. The result is a slow-burn descent into madness that’s as much about psychology as it is about horror. There’s tension in the air, built not through action but through long, uneasy exchanges between the leads and the unnerving silences that hang between them.
Ben Van der Meer and Lucas Nyhus deliver solid performances, bouncing off each other with a believable mix of irritation, suspicion, and dark humor. Their chemistry gives the film its energy, even when not much is technically happening. Mike Hartsfield, a familiar face from Jacobs’ other projects, appears briefly and provides a touch of grounding amid the chaos.
Visually, American Scream embraces its limitations. The single-location setting — a dusty warehouse full of boxes, posters, and odd alien models — becomes a character in itself. The lo-fi aesthetic, including the occasionally goofy CGI UFOs, adds to the film’s charm in a homemade, midnight-movie sort of way. The sound design is particularly effective, with subtle industrial hums and echoes heightening the claustrophobia.
Where the film falters is in pacing and payoff. At times, the script circles itself, revisiting the same beats without much escalation. The tension builds nicely, but the lack of narrative development may test the patience of some viewers. And while the alien imagery and sci-fi hints are intriguing, they never fully coalesce into something satisfying.
Still, there’s something oddly compelling about Jacobs’ approach. American Scream feels like a work made by someone who genuinely loves the process of filmmaking — flaws and all. It’s rough, yes, but it’s also sincere, weirdly funny, and just unsettling enough to stick with you after it’s over.
Verdict: American Scream is scrappy, strange, and imperfect, but also unmistakably Evan Jacobs — a lo-fi descent into paranoia that balances absurdity with genuine tension. It won’t be for everyone, but for fans of Anhedenia Films or microbudget psychological horror, it’s another curious piece of Jacobs’ ever-growing cinematic puzzle.
Jessie Hobson