Writer/director Joel Potrykus’ Vulcanizadora is a follow-up to 2014’s Buzzard, but you don’t necessarily need to see it to follow the spiritual sequel’s narrative. This dramatic slow-burn dips its toes into an unassuming vacuum of guilt at a pace that might not be for everyone. However, those who are able to get on its wavelength are in for a unique experience that sticks with you.

Derek (Joshua Burge) is an arsonist facing a potentially heavy sentence and his best friend, Marty (Potrykus), is a father with family troubles. They take a camping trip through the Michigan forest to execute a disturbing pact. When the plan goes horribly wrong, normalcy is shattered forever with no choice but to attempt to put life back together one piece at a time.

Vulcanizadora begins as a hangout movie, as Derek and Marty move further into the woods. The immaturity from their younger days bleeds into their antics, while the heavy weight of reality resting on their shoulders lingers throughout the narrative. The theme of aging masculinity shifts from a playful tone into a far more serious one. Their existentialist conversations surrounding the afterlife force them to confront their consciences and how their actions impact the people around them.

Potrykus withholds the pact details until they’ve reached their destination, although it’s fairly obvious where he’s headed. Even so, the penultimate goal of their camping trip is no less shocking thanks to Potrykus’ approach to the subject matter. It’s bleak, vicious, and haunting, although it also creates a character shift that feels irredeemable when a pact turns into a coerced event. The second part of Vulcanizadora stews in palpable culpability, navigating trauma and guilt in interesting ways with no easy answers. 

This desolate drama has a raw quality – from Adam J. Minnick’s gruff cinematography to the central performances. Potrykus excels in selling moments of panic and distress, capturing the film’s most disturbing scene. Burge delivers a sobering performance that capitalizes on the film’s moments of quiet annihilation. Even when he doesn’t have dialogue, his eyes and expressions are doing the heavy lifting. It all contributes to a crafty quality that feels gritty rather than cheap.

Vulcanizadora is a singular experience of loneliness, devastation, and guilt that taps into a dark corner of comedy and existentialist horrors. It’s unapologetic and sincere about its discomforting intentions, which will undeniably push some viewers away. Potrykus leads with a film that aims to make you laugh before settling into the unsettling actions of its lead characters. It works better when it focuses on the impending consequences of a “what now?” narrative that is bewildering and challenging. This spiritual sequel doesn’t dig quite as deep as it ought to, but it’s admirable that it doesn’t pretend to have all of the answers to the complex emotions it throws to the screen.

Rating: 3/5

Vulcanizadora played at Fantasia 2024 on July 19th, 2024.