In a moral tale of not telling fibs, filmmaker Joe Pellegrino lays out the consequences of quoting mistruths, even when those mistruths were set in place to save your family. Trevor Lies is currently on the festival circuit, making sure to present this fantastically messy story to short horror lovers all over.
The bizarre tale of a young boy and his puritan family who must grapple with the morality and consequences of deceit.
Trevor Lies, IMDB
Trevor is probably the most perfect little blond boy I’ve ever seen. He plays with his toys, loves his mother’s angelic singing, and goes to bed when he’s told. Perfect… almost. He is a little too rowdy with his toys and stays up all night playing video games under the covers. But when a bright light shines in his room one night, he is led out by a tentacled terror that gives him one last chance to change his ways. As the title implies, Trevor lies, and that was a big mistake.
The first thing that struck me about Trevor Lies was its appearance. I don’t know what it’s called, but it looks misty, as if a pair of panty hose was draped over the lens. This, along with the moments of blaring light beaming directly at the camera as well as kaleidoscope-like rays bouncing off of bodies, made Trevor Lies a dreamlike watch with an air of nostalgia. You feel as innocent as Trevor is, which makes the horror all the more potent.
Extremely potent. Trevor Lies‘ alien monster looks like a combination of Muno (from Yo Gabba Gabba), Cthulhu, and those “prawn” aliens from District 9. It talks in a grumpled voice that is both mesmerizing and powerful; props to the sound department for also making it unintelligible, as if our human minds couldn’t possibly comprehend its awesomeness.
And when the deed is done and Trevor does lie to his parents, those powers are shown at high capacity, melting off faces (and penises). The effects are gross but still somehow pretty tame. There is actually very little blood considering what is happening, instead focusing on melted skin and eyeballs. I loved it. And I loved even more that Trevor didn’t seem too-too scared by the horrors that he has just witnessed — it was his broken video game console that was the true terror of Trevor Lies.
Just shy of 10 minutes, Trevor Lies is multi-faceted, giving mystical mystery, throwbacks to our childhoods, artsy gore, and a laugh at the end. I unfortunately missed its screening at this year’s Halloween International Film Festival, but I can safely say that this short was just as amazing on my computer screen as it would have been on the big screen.
For more on Trevor Lies, check out writer/director Joe Pellegrino on Instagram.
