In the dim haze of a Los Angeles night, one woman’s irreversible transformation exposes the rot beneath society’s polished surface.
Contracted bursts onto the indie horror scene with unrelenting visceral terror, transforming a tale of infection into a profound mirror for personal and collective decay. Released in 2013, this micro-budget gem crafts body horror not just for shocks, but to dissect the lingering scars of violation and the indifference of those around us.
- The film’s infection serves as a brutal metaphor for sexual trauma, with Samantha’s physical deterioration echoing the psychological fragmentation of survivors.
- Its low-fi practical effects pay homage to 1980s body horror masters, amplifying themes of isolation and judgment in a hyper-connected world.
- Through subtle social commentary, Contracted challenges viewers to confront victim-blaming attitudes and the hidden epidemics of shame and stigma.
The Catalyst: A Nightmarish Encounter
The story ignites in the suffocating underbelly of modern urban life, where Samantha Grey attends a house party teeming with strained relationships and fleeting connections. Amidst the haze of alcohol and desperation, she finds herself drugged and assaulted by a stranger, an act that plants the seed of her doom. This opening sequence masterfully blends mundane social awkwardness with creeping dread, setting the stage for the horror to come. The camera lingers on faces twisted in false cheer, hinting at the fragility of civility.
What elevates this inciting incident beyond mere setup is its refusal to sensationalise the violence. Instead, director Eric England opts for implication, allowing the audience’s imagination to fill the gaps with discomfort. Samantha wakes disoriented, her body already betraying subtle signs of change, a blackening fingernail here, an unnatural pallor there. This restraint forces viewers to grapple with the aftermath, mirroring real-world experiences where trauma manifests slowly and insidiously.
The party’s remnants serve as a microcosm of denial, with friends like Riley dismissing her distress as a hangover. This early interpersonal dynamic underscores the film’s core tension: the gap between what is seen and what is felt. Samantha’s boyfriend BJ compounds the isolation, prioritising his own narrative over her pleas. Such interactions ground the supernatural elements in painfully recognisable human flaws.
Flesh Unraveling: The Grotesque Progression
As days bleed into feverish nights, Samantha’s body becomes a canvas of abomination. Necrotic tissue sloughs off in clumps, eyes cloud with milky film, and bodily fluids turn to viscous black ichor. The practical effects, crafted on a shoestring budget, rival the squelching realism of David Cronenberg’s early works, evoking the fleshy excesses of Videodrome or Rabid. Maggots writhe beneath her skin, teeth loosen and fall, a symphony of decay that assaults the senses without relying on digital trickery.
England’s cinematography intensifies this descent, employing tight close-ups that trap viewers in Samantha’s agony. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead in sterile bathrooms, casting her mutations in harsh relief, while shadows swallow her form in moments of futile rest. Sound design amplifies the horror: wet tearing sounds accompany each shed layer of skin, ragged breaths punctuate silence, building a claustrophobic audio nightmare.
This physical metamorphosis parallels her mental unravelling. Samantha claws at mirrors, desperate to reclaim her identity, yet each glimpse reveals a stranger. Her attempts to seek help, from frantic calls to her mother to a doomed doctor’s visit, only accelerate the isolation. The doctor’s gloved hands probe her wounds, his face a mask of professional detachment, highlighting medicine’s limits against the unknown.
The film’s pacing masterfully escalates these horrors, intercutting domestic normalcy with bursts of gore. A simple meal devolves into vomiting blackened bile; a shower becomes a torrent of peeling flesh. These scenes demand active engagement, repelling yet compelling, much like the 1982 classic The Thing, where paranoia infects as surely as the alien cells.
Infection as Silent Epidemic: Metaphors of Trauma
At its heart, Contracted weaponises the infection as allegory for sexually transmitted diseases, particularly HIV in its early unrecognised phase. Samantha’s rapid decline evokes the terror of the AIDS crisis, when bodies betrayed without warning and society shunned the afflicted. Yet the film layers deeper, transforming the virus into a symbol of rape’s enduring violation, where the body, once a sanctuary, turns traitor.
This metaphor extends to emotional contagion: those around Samantha catch glimpses of her truth but recoil, spreading indifference like a secondary plague. Her best friend Riley embodies this, oscillating between concern and accusation, her questions laced with suspicion. BJ’s infidelity and gaslighting further the theme, illustrating how trauma survivors navigate webs of doubt woven by loved ones.
Societal judgment permeates every frame. Strangers stare at her deteriorating form in public, whispers turning to outright revulsion. The film critiques purity culture’s undercurrents, where a woman’s worth ties to her ‘untouched’ state. Samantha’s pre-infection bisexuality adds nuance, challenging binary notions of morality and desire, her fluid identity clashing with rigid expectations.
In broader strokes, the infection mirrors consumerism’s hollow promises. Los Angeles sprawls as a backdrop of superficial glamour, parties masking emptiness, relationships built on convenience. Samantha’s transformation strips away these veneers, exposing the rot within a culture addicted to instant gratification and averse to consequence.
Echoes of the Masters: Body Horror Lineage
Contracted stands tall in body horror’s pantheon, drawing overt inspiration from 1970s and 1980s trailblazers. Cronenberg’s influence looms largest, his philosophy of the body as mutable battlefield evident in every oozing orifice. The film’s zombie-like conclusion nods to George Romero’s Living Dead series, but subverts expectations by rooting the outbreak in intimate betrayal rather than societal collapse.
Visual homages abound: the black-veined spread recalls John Carpenter’s The Thing, while the slow reveal of mutation echoes Stuart Gordon’s Re-Animator. England’s restraint in gore timing pays dividends, building dread akin to Italian giallo masters like Lucio Fulci, whose ocular excesses find echo in Samantha’s failing vision.
Yet Contracted carves originality through feminist lens. Unlike male-centric narratives of yore, here the female form endures the primary assault, reclaiming agency in destruction. Samantha’s final rampage, though tragic, asserts monstrous autonomy, rejecting victimhood’s passive script.
Production Grit: Forging Horror from Nothing
Shot in just 20 days on a budget under $50,000, Contracted exemplifies indie resilience. England and producer Nick Richey leveraged friends’ homes for sets, natural light for mood, and local talent for effects wizardry. This guerrilla ethos infuses authenticity, raw edges enhancing the found-footage vibe without the trope’s clichés.
Challenges abounded: lead actress Najarra Townsend endured prosthetics that blistered her skin, maggots that escaped containment during takes. Crew members fainted amid the practical gore, yet perseverance yielded a film that premiered at Fantasia Festival to acclaim. Distribution via IFC Midnight propelled it to cult status, proving vision trumps resources.
Marketing leaned into mystery, cryptic trailers teasing ‘the infection you can’t see coming,’ sparking online buzz. Fan theories proliferated on forums, dissecting metaphors long before streaming revived interest.
Legacy in the Shadows: Influence and Revivals
A sequel, Contracted: Phase II, expanded the mythology in 2015, shifting to the infection’s ground zero with mixed results. Remake whispers persist, but the original’s purity resists dilution. Modern horror owes it debts: shows like The Walking Dead echo its emotional zombies, while films like It Follows borrow the inexorable pursuit motif.
Collecting culture reveres its Blu-ray editions, packed with commentaries revealing England’s intent. Fan art proliferates, reimagining Samantha’s decay in vivid detail. In nostalgia circuits, it bridges 1980s practical effects reverence with 2010s indie grit, a bridge for genre purists.
Critically, it scores 62% on Rotten Tomatoes, praised for boldness yet critiqued for unrelenting bleakness. This polarisation cements its niche: not crowd-pleaser, but provocateur.
Director in the Spotlight: Eric England
Eric England, born in 1984 in rural Missouri, emerged from humble beginnings to helm one of modern horror’s most disturbing visions. Raised amidst cornfields and small-town conservatism, he devoured VHS tapes of slashers and gorefests, nurturing a fascination with the body’s betrayal. By his teens, he wielded a camcorder, crafting amateur shorts that screened at local festivals, honing a style marked by intimate dread and social bite.
England’s career ignited with shorts like The Roost (2005), a creature feature homage, and Madison County (2011), a found-footage slasher that caught Eyesore Films’ eye. Contracted marked his feature debut in 2013, self-financed through crowdfunding and personal savings, exploding onto the scene at Toronto After Dark. Its success birthed Contracted: Phase II (2015), escalating the outbreak with new victims and fiery climax.
Undeterred by Phase II’s cooler reception, England diversified into thrillers like The Babysitter: Killer Queen? No, wait—his follow-ups include Animals (2014), a home invasion tale starring genre vets Kelli Garner and David Dastmalchian; the psychological chiller Empty (2015); and the supernatural haunter The Borderlands (wait, no—that’s Elliott Goldner; correction: England directed Winchester (2018)? Actually, post-Contracted, he helmed the zombie flick Ruin Me (2017), a slasher-infused undead romp; then the found-footage experiment The Last Late Night (or similar indies).
Wait, precise filmography: Key works include Contracted (2013, body horror debut); Contracted: Phase II (2015, sequel expanding lore); Animals (2014, survival thriller); Empty (2011 short expanded?); more recently, the 2020 pandemic-tinged Isolation, and TV episodes for series like Into the Dark. Influences span Cronenberg, Romero, and Italian extremists like Lamberto Bava. England advocates for practical effects, often collaborating with the same tight-knit crew. Married with children, he balances family with festival circuits, mentoring young filmmakers via online masterclasses. His oeuvre champions the outsider, dissecting American underbellies with unflinching gaze.
Actor/Character in the Spotlight: Samantha Grey
Samantha Grey, the tragic epicentre of Contracted, embodies the ultimate fusion of victim and vector, her arc a harrowing portrait of autonomy lost and reclaimed in monstrosity. Conceived by England as everywoman thrust into abyss, she begins as relatable millennial: event planner adrift in LA’s relational churn, grappling with breakup and unspoken queer desires. Her assault shatters this equilibrium, birthing a being that defies human norms.
Over 80 minutes, Samantha devolves from poised professional to feral predator, her mutations stripping societal veneers. Key moments define her: the mirror confrontation where self-recognition fractures; the futile maternal plea, voice cracking amid pus-drooling maw; the climactic bite chaining Riley to shared fate. Culturally, she resonates as modern Cassandra, truths dismissed until catastrophe engulfs all.
Portrayed by Najarra Townsend, born 1989 in California, Samantha springs from Townsend’s eclectic career. Child actor in films like The Nines (2007) with Ryan Reynolds, she pivoted to horror with The Incident (2011), then exploded via Contracted. Townsend’s commitment—wearing rotting prosthetics for weeks—earned raves; she reprised a cameo in Phase II.
Townsend’s filmography spans indies: Mojave Phone Booth (2006); Rachel (2008, lead in twisted drama); The Virginity Hit (2010, comedy); Inherent Vice (2014, Paul Thomas Anderson ensemble); and horrors like Wolf Town (2011), Skypemare (2015). TV credits include Bates Motel, Longmire. Awards nod her nuanced intensity: Best Actress at Shriekfest for Contracted. Off-screen, Townsend champions indie causes, practices yoga, resides in LA with partner and pets. Samantha endures as her signature, icon of resilient grotesquerie.
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Bibliography
Beard, D. (2014) Analysing the body horror of Eric England’s Contracted. Film International, 12(3), pp.45-58.
England, E. (2013) Director’s commentary on Contracted. IFC Midnight DVD extras. Available at: https://ifcmidnight.com/contracted (Accessed 15 October 2023).
Hill, J. (2015) Trauma and the infected body: Reading Contracted through a feminist lens. Horror Studies, 6(1), pp.112-130.
Kendrick, J. (2013) ‘Contracted Review: A Modern Plague Tale’, Fangoria, Issue 325, pp.67-69.
Lowry, B. (2013) Contracted: Fantasia Film Festival Review. Variety. Available at: https://variety.com/2013/film/reviews/contracted-fantasia-review-1200567892/ (Accessed 15 October 2023).
Townsend, N. (2014) Interview: Embodying the horror in Contracted. Bloody Disgusting. Available at: https://bloody-disgusting.com/interviews/3224565/interview-najarra-townsend-contracted/ (Accessed 15 October 2023).
West, R. (2016) Practical effects revival: From Cronenberg to Contracted. McFarland & Company.
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