In Richard Burgin’s body horror thriller Fang, Billy (Dylan LaRay) is a young man with autism just trying to make it through life. He works at a warehouse by day and at night takes care of his aging mother, Gina (Lynn Lowry), who is in the early stages of Parkinson’s Disease.
Needless to say, Gina and Billy are in a co-dependent relationship. Whenever Billy goes out, something always happens to his mother. She falls down or gets confused, then blames Billy for not being there for her. To help, Billy hires an at-home nurse, Myra (Jess Paul), whom he can barely afford, but the two slowly hit it off…if you know what I mean.
One night, Billy is bitten by a rat. At first, he brushes it off, but when the stress builds (specifically from his mother’s screaming), Billy notices changes in his body. At first, it appears to be an infection on his arm, but when it bursts (eww!), rat fur begins to grow underneath. As the pressure at work, home, and with Myra increases, Billy feels like he is turning into a rat.
“…Billy feels like he is turning into a rat.”
It’s hard not to see that Billy is a rat caught in a trap. His everyday life involves working all day and taking care of his mother, and the cycle repeats itself over and over again. The stress at home starts to affect his ability to hold on to his job, and his mother’s disdain for Myra affects his ability to find love and normalcy. His transformation into a rat becomes a physical manifestation of his trapped and deteriorating life.
Fang has all the charm and creepiness of an indie horror film. Lacking a proper budget, filmmaker Richard Burgin uses everything else at a director’s disposal to intensify the horror for poor Billy. Burgin makes excellent use of lighting to set the tone for Billy’s mental breakdown. The body horror effects rely on no CG, just plain old fur and blood. It’s gross…period.
Dylan LaRay and Lynn Lowry, as Billy and Mom, go all out as their characters make all the wrong decisions. This is the kind of role that horror actors look for and only indie filmmakers can provide. There’s a certain joy that comes with playing with tough and sometimes taboo ideas and then representing these situations in horror.
Fang is unapologetically gross, psychologically twisted, and dripping with metaphor. Richard Burgin doesn’t just deliver a rat tale; he gives us a gut-wrenching look at a life gnawed by stress, co-dependence, and decay. It’s a scrappy little creep show that proves even the smallest budget can bite the hardest.
"…Unapologetically gross, psychologically twisted, and dripping with metaphor."
