For decades, the name Faces of Death evoked a specific kind of forbidden thrill. In the late 1970s and 80s, the film existed primarily as a whispered urban legend, a “cursed” object tucked away behind beaded curtains in adult video stores. It promised a glimpse into the abyss, blending staged executions with genuine newsreel footage to trick audiences into believing they were witnessing a documentary of real-life demise.
Now, that notorious horror classic is resurrected for a generation that no longer needs to seek out forbidden tapes to find the macabre. Director Daniel Goldhaber’s new reimagining of Faces of Death shifts the horror from the mystery of the “real” to the banality of the digital. Scheduled for release on April 10 via The Independent Film Company, the film transforms a piece of Mondo cinema history into a sharp, postmodern slasher that examines how our relationship with violence has been flattened by the endless scroll of social media.
Goldhaber, who previously explored the fragility of online identity in CAM, co-wrote the script with Isa Mazzei. Together, they have crafted a narrative that functions less as a traditional remake and more as a meditation on the “attention economy”—a world where the act of witnessing an atrocity is often more profitable than the act of preventing one.
From Video Stores to the Pocket Portal
To understand the weight of the new film, one must first look at the 1978 original by John Alan Schwartz. That film operated on the premise of the “first viral video,” using a fictional pathologist, Francis B. Gröss, to lend a veneer of scientific legitimacy to its shocks. It was a pioneer of the found-footage aesthetic, relying on the audience’s uncertainty about what was staged and what was authentic.
The 2024 version argues that this uncertainty has vanished, replaced by a pervasive sense of artificiality. In the modern era, the horror is not that we might see something real, but that everything—even the most visceral violence—feels like a piece of content designed for engagement. The film suggests that we have moved past the era of the “banned” movie and into an era where the business model of major tech platforms relies on the same morbid curiosity that once fueled the underground trade of Mondo films.
The Horror of Content Moderation
The story follows Margot, played by Barbie Ferreira, a young woman grappling with the trauma of her sister’s death—an event that became a viral sensation for all the wrong reasons. Margot finds employment as a content moderator for “Kino,” a fictional video application modeled after TikTok. Her daily existence is a grueling exercise in digital sanitation: sitting in a sterile office and reviewing flagged posts to determine what stays and what goes.
Goldhaber uses this setting to highlight a disturbing corporate hypocrisy. While Kino’s policies are strict regarding sexual content, the threshold for violence is alarmingly high. Margot is only permitted to remove blood-soaked clips if she can prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the violence is real. This reversal of the burden of proof serves as the film’s conceptual core, illustrating how corporate profit motives often necessitate a denial of human suffering.
Margot’s foil is Arthur, portrayed by Dacre Montgomery. A mobile phone store employee with access to proprietary data, Arthur stalks influencers and executes them in elaborate displays that mimic the murders from the 1978 Faces of Death. By using the artifice of a classic horror film as a mask for real-world murder, Arthur turns the “rules” of the genre into a weapon, reveling in the dopamine rush of likes and follows that accompany his uploads.
Comparing the Eras of “Faces of Death”
| Feature | 1978 Original | 2024 Reimagining |
|---|---|---|
| Primary Medium | Cinema / VHS Tapes | Social Media App (“Kino”) |
| Core Tension | Is this footage real? | Does anyone care if Here’s real? |
| Distribution | Underground / “Banned” | Algorithmic / Viral |
| The “Guide” | Dr. Francis B. Gröss | Corporate Content Moderators |
A Reflection on Digital Desensitization
While the film delivers the visceral beats expected of a slasher—including three home-invasion sequences and a tense third-act cat-and-mouse game—its true strength lies in its cultural critique. The inclusion of a cameo by pop star Charli XCX further anchors the movie in the current zeitgeist, though the film is more interested in the systemic horror of the internet than in celebrity branding.
The narrative acknowledges the terrifying reality of the “human meme,” where individuals are stripped of their humanity and turned into iconography for public consumption. This is particularly evident in Margot’s struggle. she is recognized not as a grieving sister, but as a character in a viral tragedy. The film posits that in a post-truth digital landscape, the most difficult task is not committing a crime, but convincing a desensitized public to give a damn that people are dying.
Shot in 2023, the film’s urgency has only increased with the rise of generative AI and deepfakes. As the line between captured reality and synthesized imagery continues to blur, Goldhaber’s work serves as a timely warning about the erosion of empathy in the face of digital wallpaper.
Faces of Death will arrive in theaters on Friday, April 10. For those interested in the history of the genre, the Mondo film tradition provides the essential context for how this brand of “shockumentary” shaped early horror cinema.
We invite readers to share their thoughts on the evolution of horror and the impact of social media on our perception of violence in the comments below.
