Best thing you’ll see while waiting for Netflix to screw up The Witcher: The Head Hunter

, | Movie reviews

The Head Hunter is pretty modest. But within the confines of what it’s trying to do, it’s entirely competent and even a bit haunting. It’s certainly better than director Jordan Downey’s Thankskilling movies, which were pranks on anyone dumb enough to watch them. Including myself, naturally.

But The Head Hunter is a sedate mood piece good enough to take itself seriously. Just be aware that you’re watching a short film given room to breathe. Room to sprawl toward feature-length. It’s a bit small for its 72-minute running time. But it uses the time wisely, dwelling lovingly on the production design for its homestead in a medieval countryside. When the call is sounded from a nearby castle, a monster somewhere needs killing. The things are everywhere. Flying overhead. Nosing about the window at night. The dude who lives here does the dirty work of keeping them contained.

The secret ingredient in The Head Hunter is the stately and hirsute Christopher Rygh. He cuts a fine figure under all that armor, and especially out from under it. As a dual class monster hunter slash apothecary who put a few points into necromancy, he’s not fooling around and he’s got the biceps to prove it. He is as somber and muted as the cinematography and no matter how silly that helmet looks, he plays it straight-faced and wild-eyed. Frankly, he deserves a bigger movie. Until then, he’s one hell of a way to fill out 72 minutes.