If the first episode of Screambox’s latest anthology series, Tales from the Void, didn’t kick you in the gut the way it did me, then maybe episode two, Fixed Frequency, will be more your style. The season’s sophomore episode is based on the subreddit r/nosleep story “I Used to Hack Baby Monitors. One Night, I Learned My Lesson,” written by Manen Lyset. The temperament in this story is a little less divisive and, depending on what scares you, a little more on the blood-curdling nightmare side. If you have not seen Tales from the Void episode 2, you may want to do so before continuing.
Spoilers ahead for Tales from the Void: Fixed Frequency.
Fixed Frequency opens on a group of three teenagers stirring up mischief in their suburban neighborhood. Juan (Sean Bandiola), Cedric (Milton Torres Lara), and Kurt (Bergman Freedman) cruise around on their bikes, waiting for the walkie-talkie they’re carrying to emit the sound of a baby cooing or crying. Once they hear the noise, the game is on. Huddled together in the bushes near their victim’s home, Cedric demonically cries over his radio, “This little one looks tasty!” His dialogue, heard over the monitor, sends the infant’s mother into a blood-curdling scream as the three boys run hard and fast from the bushes to find their next victim.
At the forefront of this story is Juan, a decent kid encouraged by his mother to branch out and make some friends. If only she knew what kind of trouble they were causing. Juan attempts to put his best foot forward. But his escapade with his cousin Cedric and Kurt, Cedric’s friend, is leaving him a little conscientious of his actions, especially after he’s pushed into playing the part of the voice on the other end of the baby monitor at the next house. Juan unconvincingly babbles a similar line over the radio in a way that could blow up the boys’ fun. However, there’s no frantic voice on the other line, but the serious tone of a serial killer (Stephen R. Hart) strikes fear into every fleeing footstep they take retreating from the place.
There’s an air of disgust in all of this. I think the episode and Lyset’s story are designed to present these toxic and rambunctious adolescents in that way. Not all characters need to be likable, nor should they be, and though I can abhor their actions all I like, it won’t stop people from preying on others as Juan and company do, providing new moms with the fright of their lives.
As Lyset will tell us after the episode ends in her conversation with David Cummings of the NoSleep podcast, this is almost a societal right of passage scenario to escape suburban boredom, as it is to explore different facets of our personalities when we’re young. Lyset says, “This happens with every generation, whether it’s ding-dong-ditch or prank calls, or licking ice cream and putting it back on the shelf–which is absolutely disgusting. There will always be troublemakers, [that] will always do something. Every generation has its own way of doing a prank, and this was the one that I went with.”
To Lyset’s credit, the serial killer’s personification of the moral ramifications of the boys’ actions hits the nail unnervingly on the head. The voice on the other end of the monitor provides the karmic satisfaction of giving these teenagers the justice they deserve. Yet it doesn’t stop at someone simply giving them a dose of their own medicine. If that were the case, it would be a pretty dull episode. The gnaw of guilt and despair assuredly ups the ante as anxiety mounts and their comeuppance is multiplied tenfold.
Fixed Frequency becomes something like a romanticized slasher movie as the thematic irony of teenagers’ horrible actions creates a Michael Myers figure. Sure, they’re not having sex and doing drugs, though the dime store bullying tactics Kurt spews while fishing for locker-room gossip on the playground suggests he’ll certainly be there soon. Still, there are consequences to their actions here. The story then yields the psychological impetus of It Follows when the boys’ pasts begin to literally catch up with them as they become prey for a vicious apex predator.
Credit should also be given to Tales from the Void’s creative writing team, Francesco Loschiavo, who directed and co-wrote the episode with John Thomas Kelley. The episode stays broodingly noirish throughout, even in the daylight scenes, supplying a very ominous feeling that Juan won’t be able to escape what’s coming during the daylight hours. In the morning following the event, as Juan’s mom (Monica Rodriguez Knox) begins asking questions about her son’s late-night adventures, there’s pride in this for her learning that her son is making friends with whom he can have secrets.
For Juan, providing a non-story because he knows his mom would be disappointed provides the mundanity of any high-school kid’s interaction with their parent. But when he returns to the house he pranked the night before, seeing ambulances remove the bodies of the family, including the baby, from the home, the crippling reality of what was witnessed won’t let him settle into the very brief thought that everything might be alright.
I had a few significant reservations regarding the handling of certain things in Fixed Frequency. The first was the way Juan dropped his bicycle on the ground outside of his house after fleeing the murder scene, knowing that someone was out there looking for him and his other friends. There would be more of a heightened caution about leaving something as identifiable as his bike in the open. Yet, I can’t say there isn’t a cinematic appeal in how the camera pans from Juan’s riding the bike, staying at it when it’s on the ground, and panning up to the perfectly lit Juan, panicking in the house doorway. It’s a gorgeous shot that visually highlights the claustrophobic scenario Juan is in, as the darkened street encases Juan in a small rectangle of light. Regardless, he should have stashed that damn bike.
My second reservation had to do with the killer’s mass grave in the woods. It’s referenced once when Juan peddles past it while high-tailing it to his house, and then it’s shown when the killer leaves a shovel. While this works by making the audience squirm, I have a million questions about the practicality of this MacGuffin.
There’s no denying that the murderous man on the baby monitor was interrupted in the house that evening, and perhaps that is what resulted in the police finding these particular victims. However, I don’t think we see a single missing persons flyer at any point in the episode. This community looks rather idyllic, which, on the surface, most suburbs do. However, there seems to be no paranoia about this high-body-count killer as Juan sits in the park later. He receives no phone call from his mother to be home when the streetlights come on. There’s nothing. Plus, a park seems like the perfect last known location for a psychopath’s victims, but there’s a slight disconnect regarding who those victims are and where they’re coming from.
Finally, and this is the obvious one: at what point should Juan call the police? While I understand it in terms of telling this story, I don’t think there’s a great motive here for it not being addressed. I can understand the shame of the situation he found himself in and the need to hide this disappointing act from his mother. I can even understand the amount of trouble Juan may believe he’s in. But between witnessing a murder and finding detached body parts in the park and the woods, I think something’s got to give.
I suppose the argument here is that they were at the home where the murders took place, which isn’t a good look. Also, finding the two other witnesses murdered is likely to catapult Juan from a possible suspect into becoming public enemy number one. Still, there’s no inkling into Juan’s mindset as to why he doesn’t make the call as a last resort before returning home for the final time. I would have even taken a frame of a detective noticing Juan’s panicked behavior at the crime scene as nuance. Sure, these are relatively brief episodes, but I found a bit of a blind spot here.
These oversights remain rather small in the grand scheme of things, as Fixed Frequency stays heart-poundingly compelling and scary. Again, like with episode one, Into the Unknown, the cast performances are fantastic. Sean Bandiola’s evocative repentance as Juan is the driving factor of the episode and creates tension as the universe comes calling for not heeding his conscience. My co-worker loves to say, “The universe doesn’t know when you’re kidding,” usually after I’ve said something silly or self-deprecating, but I think this really applies to the things we regret that come back to haunt us. A prank like we see in Fixed Frequency is simply cruel, and sometimes, we don’t know how ruthless we are until it comes back to haunt us.
Tales from the Void: Fixed Frequency is streaming exclusively on Screambox.
Tales From The Void | Official Trailer | Streaming October 13
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