The Leech appears in an aspect ratio of 2.39:1 on this Blu-ray Disc. The image felt inconsistent.
The biggest issue here stemmed from the darkness of the film. While not truly opaque, much of the movie looked murky and dimly-lit.
Was this an intentional photographic choice? Probably.
Did it make sense in the scheme of things? Not particularly.
Yes, I understand that Leech wanted a tone in this vein. However, it just didn’t seem logical for so much of the image to remain so difficult to discern. It could genuinely become tough to read the onscreen action a lot of the time.
Overall sharpness seemed positive. Occasional instances of softness occurred – especially during some interiors – but most of the movie felt fairly tight and well-defined.
No issues with jagged edges or moiré effects occurred, and I saw no edge haloes. In terms of source flaws, these remained absent.
Colors went with a lean toward amber/orange, with some blues at times too. These trends didn’t seem overwhelming, and the hues generally appeared reasonably full.
Blacks could feel a bit crushed, but they usually came across with decent depth. This was a watchable presentation but the murkiness made it a “C+“.
As for the film’s DTS-HD MA 5.1 soundtrack, so the mix worked fairly well – within its restrained ambitions, at least. The soundscape stayed low-key and moody most of the time, as it only popped open on a couple of occasions.
Music offered good presence, though, and used the speakers in an effective manner. Occasional instances of directional dialogue occurred as well, and some more fantastic scenes added useful engagement. Most of the track stayed ambient, though.
Audio quality seemed fine, with effects that appeared acceptably accurate and full. Music worked best, as the snatches of score seemed lively and rich.
Speech seemed distinctive and easily understood. This turned into a competent track for an indie flick.
A mix of extras appear here, and we open with an audio commentary from writer/director Eric Pennycoff and producer Scott Smith. Both sit together for this running, screen-specific look at story and characters, sets and locations, music and sound, cast and performances, editing and costumes, photography and related domains.
For the most part, Pennycoff and Smith offer a reasonably informative and engaging affair, though one that tends to focus on nuts and bolts. While I’d like more about the creative side of the coin, this nonetheless turns into a pretty positive track.
We also find a live commentary recorded at a virtual screening for a Chattanooga festival. This panel involves Pennycoff and actors Graham Skipper, Taylor Zaudtke, Jeremy Gardner and Rigo Garay.
The commentary looks at story/characters, cast and performances, sets and locations, and related domains. Given the participants, one should expect an emphasis on the actors and their work.
Which seems fine, though the results don’t become especially insightful, as we mainly get stories from the shoot. Still, this becomes a reasonably engaging chat that moves well.
We can watch the movie with or without two separate Introductions. We hear from Pennycoff (10 seconds) and Skipper (12 seconds). Given the brevity of these clips, they’re pretty pointless.
Also from that virtual Chattanooga festival, we get a Q&A. It goes for 33 minutes, 59 seconds and involves Pennycoff, Garay, Skipper, Zaudtke and Gardner.
“Q&A” looks at the small production crew, story/characters and the project’s development, cast and performances, and experiences during the shoot. This becomes a loose chat with a smattering of new insights.
A visual essay called Parasites in the Oven spans 25 minutes, 41 seconds. Critic Antom Bitel discusses Penncoff’s filmography, themes across his movies, and interpretation. Bitel offers some decent insights, though I disagree that Leech offers the depth Bitel implies.
The Voice of Reason goes for 14 minutes, 23 seconds and brings another interview with Pennycoff and Skipper.
They look at cast, characters, actors and performances, sets and locations, narrative elements and shooting through COVID. A few new notes emerge, but after two commentaries and a Q&A, we don’t get much fresh information here.
Next comes a FrightFest Intro and Q&A. It fills 18 minutes, 43 seconds and features Pennycoff and Skipper.
In this panel, they talk about experiences that shaped them, influences, and production notes. We get a mix of repetition and some new thoughts in this decent chat.
The Making of The Leech fills 14 minutes, 37 seconds with footage from the set. I enjoy this sort of “fly on the wall” material so expect an engaging reel.
After this we get a music video for Rigo’s “Sword Swingers”. We hear the character do a little of this awful rap song so this brings a very low-budget video. It’s intentionally bad.
In addition to the movie’s trailer. we conclude with three early short films. Here we locate Unfortunate (10:24), The Pod (11:03) and Phase II (4:14).
Pennycoff wrote and directed all three. Unfortunate shows promise at the start but quickly degenerates into pseudo-spooky silliness. That makes it better than the clumsily acted and pretentious sci-fi Pod, at least.
Phase II completes the trilogy of mediocrity, as the cheap video-shot tale seems faux intellectual and contrived. While none of these shorts succeed, they make for a worthwhile addition.
As an awkward mix of broad comedy and psychological horror, The Leech fails to find a path to success. The movie cannot connect its disparate stylistic choices so it ends up as a flawed mess. The Blu-ray comes with oddly dark visuals, generally positive audio and a nice array of bonus features. Buried in Leech exists an intriguing movie, but the final product doesn’t work.