Meta-horror is a subgenre that thrives on self-awareness, often focusing on the clichés and conventions that define it. Matthew John Lawrence’s Bloody Axe Wound tries to carve out its space in this lineage, bringing an oddly heartwarming twist to the arena and blending dark comedy with the found footage aesthetic.  It’s an admirable attempt to say something fresh about the slasher film, not to mention the trappings of a staid family drama, but while the premise drips with potential, the execution stumbles. The result is an amusing but uneven film that flirts with brilliance but rarely sustains it.

Abbie Bladecut is a teenager grappling with her place in her family’s gruesome business. It’s not a quaint restaurant or corner pet store, but a thriving enterprise built on capturing authentic kills for a devoted customer base.  Sari Arambulo delivers a standout performance as Abbie, whose traditional coming-of-age (and out) story involves the occasional gruesome homicide.  Arambulo brings a sweet sincerity and genuine emotional stakes to a role that could have been overshadowed by the film’s blood-soaked antics or a more obnoxiously written script.

As Abbie’s father, Roger, Billy Burke (The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2) plays the concerned patriarch by day and a deformed killer obsessed with maintaining his grisly legacy at night. Burke chews the scenery with gleeful abandon through his nicely done make-up, the facial prosthetics making him nearly unrecognizable.  The performance teeters between menace and absurdity, yet Burke finds the right balance and errs on the side of a concerned parent over domesticated Jason Voorhees.  Moreover, he and Arambulo have an easy rapport that provides the film with a critically necessary, surprisingly emotional underpinning to a story filled with macabre humor.  The supporting cast, too, understands the assignment, playing their roles with just enough sincerity to sell the absurd premise without tipping into parody.

The town of Clover Falls, where the Bladecuts live, is a decayed relic of the past, and Lawrence uses its dilapidation to great effect. The production design from Lisa Myers and accompanying art direction by Jaf Farkas leans into the film’s modest budget, creating a grimy, claustrophobic world that feels authentic to the story’s darkly comedic tone. However, while the visuals impress, the script doesn’t fully capitalize on the intriguing premise. Lawrence hints at larger questions about the ethics and economics of murder-for-profit but never explores these ideas in depth after an excitingly gory opening. The film’s mythology remains frustratingly vague, leaving viewers with more questions than answers, which a sequel might address in more detail.

Where Lawrence’s direction shines is in individual scenes, despite the lack of clear parameters to save his clever concepts from becoming missed opportunities. The film’s blend of humor and horror is at its best in moments where tension and absurdity collide. A sequence involving a failed attempt at staging a murder for the camera is both nerve-wracking and hilariously awkward.  Besides creative camerawork from Kyle I. Kelley and Michael Sutter, practical make-up effects from a team headed by Jared Balog (Smile 2) elevate certain scenes beyond their bargain-bin origins, proving that ingenuity can triumph over financial constraints. These flashes of brilliance suggest a filmmaker with a keen sense of timing and tone, even if the overall narrative lacks cohesion.  Yet, as the story progresses, the bloodletting grows repetitive, dulling the impact of later violent setpieces that should land better.

The film’s biggest flaw lies in that repetitive violence. Early on, the gore shocks and amuses, but the impact diminishes as the body count rises. Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s (Rampage) gruff presence as rival videographer Butch Slater is a fun aside (though rarely there), lending more Hollywood credibility to this bizarre underground economy.  However, what begins as a clever commentary on the desensitizing nature of media violence eventually becomes a victim of its critique. The lack of variety in the kills and the absence of escalating stakes make the latter half of the film drag when it focuses more on the budding relationship between Abbie and Molly Brown’s (The Good House) spunky Sam, sapping it of the momentum built in its first act.

Distinct enough to warrant attention from horror hounds and fans of cultural commentary, Bloody Axe Wound feels like a rough draft of something greater. It offers sufficiently creative kills and dark humor to satisfy viewers seeking something off the beaten path, even if its memorable title promises more than its content delivers. Fans of meta-horror (anyone who can name their favorite film in the Scream franchise) will find plenty to enjoy for 80-ish minutes, from the sharp performances to the moments of inspired direction, but it’s also a reminder of the challenges of ambitious storytelling.