THE WARD

1966, Oregon. Young Kristen is found by the police in a catatonic state after setting fire to a farmhouse. Immediately taken to the nearby psychiatric hospital, the girl is dosed with sedatives and locked up in Ward 19, where four other young patients reside. Kristen cannot remember anything about the reasons for her internment, and after the initial confusion and attempts to negotiate with the ward staff to get out, she befriends the other patients. They reveal to her that something unsettling prowls the corridors of the ward at night, something that seems intent on eliminating them one by one. Since 2001's "Ghosts of Mars," John Carpenter had stayed away from cinema, spending nine years between television (two excellent episodes of the "Masters of Horror" series) and shelved projects. It took a semi-independent film like "The Ward" to give shape to a new project signed by the director of "The Thing," a project that goes almost against the grain in an era dominated by vampires, zombies, and torture porn, betting everything on atmosphere while still incorporating some characteristic elements of modern cinema. After all, Carpenter is a classic director, perhaps the last of the classics alongside Clint Eastwood, and a ghost story set in the 1960s couldn't be more fitting for him. Yet, something didn't click between Carpenter and "The Ward." It almost seems as though there is no chemistry between the director and his latest creation, because "The Ward," while being a great film, lacks the true essence of Carpenter, missing the magical touch that distinguishes a regular film from a John Carpenter film. From the evocative opening titles, "The Ward" aims to convey something, suggesting and anticipating that every certainty is at risk of shattering at any moment, much like the fragile psychological states of the young protagonists. "The Ward" begins in an almost hostile manner, erecting a wall between the protagonist and the viewer, with inexplicable actions that remain unexplained or even forgotten. Kristen is sane, behaving exactly as a sane person accused of madness would, especially when compared to the other patients in the ward. Yet, something doesn't add up: why is Kristen wanted by the authorities, and why does she set a house on fire? Naturally, every question will have an answer, but to find clarity, the viewer must follow a path alongside the protagonist, identifying with her and navigating all the challenges that the case demands. Because if everything begins in madness, it then progresses into fear, that primal fear that cinema has always sought to capture when dealing with ghosts and the like. The setting works in favor of the story, and Carpenter knows how to exploit it to the fullest: the asylum, enveloped in muted colors—the same colors that describe the patients' state of mind—and its grim corridors are the perfect environment to develop a ghost story. The specter's appearances are all effectively chilling, and the ghost itself—crafted with the usual mastery by the Berger and Nicotero team—is different from the norm. The creators aimed to distance themselves as much as possible from the prototype of the Eastern ghost that has monopolized ghost stories from everywhere in recent years, and they succeeded. The ghost in "The Ward" is something more physical, with a decayed face and "moving" flesh, as if the evil were trying to escape the shell that contains it. Carpenter, recalling the unforgettable "Halloween," at one point constructs "The Ward" as a supernatural slasher, where the girls serve as fodder for the killer-poltergeist, without neglecting a certain brutality in the depiction of deaths (including a detailed shot of a lobotomy spike being driven into an eye!). But "The Ward" is not just a ghost story; it is an ambiguous and mutable work that, in its attempt to be "something else," finds the strength to explore various thriller/horror genres. The game is entertaining, successful, and conducted with skill and expertise, although Michael and Shawn Rasmussen's screenplay ("Long Distance") at one point becomes almost surreal in its forced search for a twist, blatantly borrowed from a good thriller from a few years ago (whose title, of course, I won't reveal). Strong performances from all the actors, from the beautiful and believable Amber Heard ("All the Boys Love Mandy Lane"; "Drive Angry"), a rising star who plays the protagonist, to the supporting cast of young patients in Ward 19, including Lyndsy Fonseca ("Kick-Ass"), Danielle Panabaker ("Friday the 13th"), Mamie Gummer ("Taking Woodstock"), Laura Leigh ("Gossip Girl"), and Mika Boorem ("Along Came a Spider"). Beautiful and evocative music by Mark Kilian. In all this, Carpenter is more elusive than the ghost haunting the ward. The director of "In the Mouth of Madness" brings his experience to bear on someone else's story, completing his work with the elegance and professionalism that have always distinguished him, but it's evident that "The Ward" is a commissioned film, little or not at all Carpenterian in both story and style. Nevertheless, we are faced with a good film, absolutely imperfect but enjoyable and well-made. If a commissioned work is the price to pay to see John Carpenter back in cinema, we won't make a fuss; perhaps the Master's next work will be a true "John Carpenter's...".