In an alley in the middle of a big city, a junkie puts a human-sized mirror on the ground so that he can snort one tiny line of cocaine. Suddenly a disturbing image is reflected in the glass: a young woman (Tracy Rankin) plunges to the ground and crashes straight into the mirror. The mirror is shattered. So is the woman. The cocaine? Presumably it’s scattered to the wind. There’s probably a lesson for us all there.

So starts Psycho Scarecrow, a surprisingly enjoyable shot-on-video horror film from 1996.

The woman is named Sheila Murphy. When two detectives (Tim Vince and Joe Parro) arrive at Sheila’s apartment, they debate whether she committed suicide or was thrown to her death. The veteran detective thinks it is a clear case of suicide. It’s late, and he just wants to wrap up the investigation and go home. The younger detective, however, insists that they listen to the message Sheila tape-recorded before her death.

The rest of the film switches back and forth between the past and the present. Sheila’s final message tells the story of how she and her friends decided to go camping for the weekend and, after their car broke down, ended up spending the night in a cornfield. When one of the friends was accidentally killed, they decided to cover up the death by dressing him up as a scarecrow and leaving him in the field. Unfortunately, the field was cursed. Soon Sheila and her friends found themselves being stalked by a heavy-set scarecrow that had a pumpkin for a face. He also rides a motorcycle.

Psycho Scarecrow took me by surprise. This is a low-budget, shot-on-video horror film that actually features clever dialogue, a lot of atmosphere, and a villain who should be silly but is actually pretty creepy. Psycho Scarecrow pokes fun at the conventions of the horror genre while also showing that it understands how to use those conventions to tell an effectively spooky story. It plays out like a story you might hear while sitting around a campfire, or maybe in your living room when a storm is raging outside and the electricity is out. (Sheila’s taped narration definitely helps as far as that’s concerned.) It’s a story that will occasionally make you roll your eyes or even laugh, but it’s still told effectively enough that you’ll look over your shoulder before walking off on your own.

What makes this film so effective is that the filmmakers obviously understood the limitations of the shot-on-video (SOV) genre and, instead of being imprisoned by those limitations, used them to their advantage. The majority of the film is shot at night. Actually shooting at night is a dangerous thing. I’ve seen so many SOV films where the night scenes were so dark that you couldn’t even see what was happening on screen. (There’s a reason Hollywood developed the day-for-night shot.) In Psycho Scarecrow, the night scenes are dark but still lit enough that you can actually see who is in the scene. The background darkness becomes a character of its own. Characters emerge from and disappear into the darkness, and we’re always aware that there could be anything hiding in the shadows.

I assume the cast was made up of amateur and local actors, but everyone does a good job of bringing their characters to life. Even the scenes with the two detectives don’t slow down the action, and it’s hard not to smile at how the veteran detective refuses to accept that Sheila was murdered despite all of the evidence his partner easily uncovers.

Ultimately, what makes the film work is its rural atmosphere, which is both intriguing and ominous at the same time. Watching the film, I was reminded of the times I’ve spent in the country. I remembered walking through fields of high grass in shorts and a T-shirt and freezing in place because I heard what sounded like a snake slithering nearby. I remembered stopping to use my inhaler and trying not to think about how easy it would be for someone or something to hide behind the round bales of hay that decorated the landscape. I remembered the feeling that anything could be out there. It was scary and exciting at the same time.

Psycho Scarecrow is an enjoyably creepy SOV production. It’s the type of film that deserves to be rediscovered this Halloween.