Written by Charlie Griak and Neto DePaula Pimenta
Directed by Charlie Griak
Starring Megan Hensely, Daniel Bielinski, Ricardo Vázquez and Rachael Davies
Running time: 1 hour and 31 minutes

by Audrey Callerstrom

Nina of the Woods is an inspired and intriguing psychological horror/sci-fi film that pulls you in with its honest and unabridged portrayal of a struggling actor. Nina (played by Megan Hensley), lives in L.A. and lives on a couch, last night’s takeout on the nightstand and an ominous stuffed raven on her dresser. It’s clear the offers aren’t exactly piling in. She sits in her car, practicing her lines, but at this point, the blows of rejection have worn her down. She’s at her limit when she auditions for a corny reality show called “Truth Stalkers” that is doing an episode on Bigfoot to be shot in Nina’s hometown, several hours outside L.A. (but actually shot somewhere in Minnesota). “Truth Stalkers” is lead by the sarcastic and obnoxious Jeremy (Daniel Bielinski), who rolls his eyes during Nina’s exceptional audition. They’re “looking for real,” he says. She mutters “asshole” under her breath and leaves, going home to draft an e-mail to her agent that she’s ready to quit. In spite of the audition (and possibly due to lack of interested actors), Nina gets the part.

No one in the crew cares about “Truth Stalkers.” Jeremy mocks the show and looks down on its simple-minded audience. Eric (Ricardo Vázquez), the good-natured cameraman, suggests they film some scenes inside a local diner beforehand. Jeremy disregards the idea, responding that no one would want to watch that; reality is “too much and too little at the same time.” Jeremy, Eric and Nina enter the woods accompanied by crew member Rochelle (Rachael Davies) and an odd, nameless guide (Shawn Patrick Boyd). The woods plays tricks with them; sticks are arranged in shapes that could not have been created through a gust of wind. Sounds are echoed. You can be walking a few feet behind someone and then lose them completely. It’s beautiful, but anxiety-inducing. How do you know where you started, where you’re headed? There are no markers, no turns. Rochelle tries to reference a map that looks like a toddler’s drawing. Nina’s experience throughout is a common one; she’s a skilled but desperate actor entering a shitty situation as a result of poor planning on behalf of the production crew.

Admittedly, I was starved for a psychological thriller that was also a Bigfoot film, which Nina of the Woods is not. Still, it’s ambitious and carefully put together. I would surmise that my criticisms are related to budget constraints. If the woods has the effect of messing with how people experience time, making them feel drugged, it would have been interesting to see this explored a bit more with visual effects, or to have each character experience it differently. Instead, previous scenes are replayed. Flashbacks from Nina’s childhood which include her father are a bit distracting as he is played by another actor already in the film (although he’s only shown in profile at first). The score is minimalist; arguably, the madness of trying to find your way through the woods while time seems to loop speaks for itself.

Hensley’s performance is quiet, understated, and impactful. She wears the weight of rejection and loss in every frame. Those few moments in the beginning where we spend time with Nina - seeing her forlorn looks during a yoga class, seeing the hurt of rejection - keep us continuously engaged. Though Nina of the Woods’s final moments can drag a bit, Hensley’s performance and the subtle themes about the invisible forces behind nature keep things interesting.

Currently playing at the Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival from May 15 to 23- more info here.