Kenneth Branagh’s Murder on the Orient Express breathes new life into a classic tale.
Kenneth Branagh not only directs but stars in, the latest retelling of the Agatha Christie classic Murder on the Orient Express. In this tale, his character, famed detective Hercules Poirot, is aboard the Orient Express when a fellow passenger is murdered. After the train is subsequently derailed Poirot is left to investigate and the remaining passengers become suspects. While Branagh’s take on Poirot is not particularly different from previous adaptations, the humour and character he brings to the role is a welcome addition to this otherwise morose tale.
The star-studded cast also includes Dame Judi Dench, Michelle Pfeiffer, Daisy Ridley, Penelope Cruz, Leslie Odom Jr. and many more. They portray the various characters aboard the train with aplomb, but the sheer size of this ensemble, with 17 key characters, somewhat undermines these performances. In particular, the intense focus on Poirot himself leaves the suspects’ individual motives undeveloped. It’s hard to say why this is the case – perhaps it stems from Branagh’s choice to place his own character front and centre – but greater character development would have enhanced the mystery at the heart of the film.
Branagh’s adaptation is mostly faithful to the source material, with minor diversions reflecting the influence of his own idiosyncratic style. He adds to Poirot’s character, for example, an obscene face-covering moustache paired with a convincing, but somewhat ridiculous, Belgian accent. Additionally, Branagh engages a number of unusual camera angles to capture the large ensemble cast in the train’s confined setting, including bird’s eye views and perspectives from outside the train.
This remake succeeds not because of any ground-breaking originality or character development, but on the back of the stellar performances of its A-list cast, its stunning visuals and the production design. Despite having read the novel and already known the killer’s identity, I still found myself on the edge of my seat as Poirot revealed them in his signatory address to the suspects. For me, that is the mark of success for any murder-mystery film.
While some will question the need for a new slate of Agatha Christie film adaptations (the closing scene of the film alludes to a Murder on the Nile sequel), Murder on the Orient Express is engaging in its own right. In my opinion, that alone is enough to warrant a trip to the cinema.
Murder on the Orient Express is in cinemas now.
As a fan of Al Gore and his eye-opening documentary An Inconvenient Truth, I must admit to feeling a certain trepidation when facing its sequel. After all, Truth to Power had the difficult task of shocking a contemporary audience. Being bombarded daily with so much fatalistic information on climate change, it’s hard not to become completely desensitised. What new information could actually shock me anymore?
On the other hand, however, the sequel seems very appropriate in today’s world with over a decade since its predecessor. Ted Talks and podcasts have made the intimate format of the film feel accessible. The film also lends itself to audiences by focusing very heavily on Gore himself – we receive a backstage view of his struggles to combat climate change and spread his message. The choice to feature Gore so intensely may have been an attempt to humanise climate change, creating a face for the fight against this invisible enemy.
It’s hard to know how to feel about this film. It is sobering, certainly, to learn the terrifying statistics of what global warming means. However, if the documentary wishes to mimic its prequel and act as a wake-up call, it chose a questionable means to do so. The focus on Gore himself borders on excessive, as Paramount Pictures seeks to capitalise on his fame. Personally, I found this to be in bad taste. Rather than adding to the complexities of climate change, the choice took away from the gravity of global warming. This is, however, simply an issue with the delivery of the film’s message. The message itself remains undeniably profound.
The film feels torn between a documentary and a personal narrative. For some, this may make the issue more palatable, but I personally disliked the reframe. Still, the film remains moving and informative, and certainly worthwhile. While not all directorial choices are to my taste, I urge you to take the first step in making a difference and educate yourselves through the latest instalment of Gore’s battle against climate change.
Dunkirk is Christopher Nolan’s first war movie. It tells the story of one of the Allied Forces’ greatest defeats during World War II – the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Force from France. The BEF was forced by the Germans to retreat to the port of Dunkirk, completely isolated from the main French Army and exposed to enemy bombers above. Due to the fear that Germany was preparing to invade Britain next, the British government was reluctant to supply many navy ships to rescue the stranded men on the beach. Instead, the call went out to civilian boats, requisitioned by the Navy, to sail across the Channel and bring almost 400 000 troops home.
The film cuts between three different perspectives. The first is that of the soldiers on the beach who are in perpetual danger of being wiped out by enemy bombers. The second is the perspective of a civilian boat, a motor yacht, which sets out across the short stretch of water between Britain and France to rescue soldiers. Thirdly, from the air, the film portrays the perspective of an RAF pilot engaging with the German bombers above the ships.
As is typical in Nolan films, the passing of time and continuity are both malleable constructs that can be manipulated to reflect the narrative. The events on the beach span over a week, while the events in the sea take place in a single day and the pilot’s perspective lasts only an hour. It sounds confusing, but the effect is very well put together and gives a real sense of the different levels of engagement in the battle in the air, on land and at sea.
Dunkirk is relatively light when it comes to dialogue and character development. The characters act in fairly predictable ways and unfortunately the protagonists look very similar when they’re all wearing the same uniform. But, these flaws don’t really take much away from the movie as it’s meant to be more of an atmospheric film rather than character driven.
The film is constantly propelled forward by Hans Zimmer’s amazing score, which incorporates the sound of the relentless ticking of Nolan’s own pocket watch to create a mounting feeling of suspense. The soundscape of this film combined with the enormous set pieces on the screen is the defining characteristic of the movie, which deserves to be seen in a cinema with the best possible surround sound.
It is an extremely intense movie to watch. There is this constant feeling of dread in this film where every second is a struggle for survival and nowhere is safe.
Harry Potter and the Eternal Franchise, by Julia Faragher
Six years ago upon the release of the final Harry Potter film, fans of the series said an emotional goodbye to the world of Harry Potter. It seemed as though Harry Potter was being set to rest and preserved in its immortal form of seven novels and eight films. However, it appears that the exact opposite has happened. Harry Potter fans have been inundated with new projects from the Wizarding World such as Pottermore, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. While this is great news for Harry Potter fans worldwide, it begs the question as to whether all this new content fits in with the original story.
The release of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them offered a surprisingly fresh take on the Wizarding World, aided by the framing of the American setting through the new eyes of its British protagonist. This allowed the audience to learn about the different aspects of the American Wizarding World at the same pace that he did. The film also introduced a whole new set of main characters while restricting explicit Harry Potter references to the background such as name-drops of Lestrange and Dumbledore.
The same cannot be said of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, the new West End play also released in book form. Despite the impressive Olivier Awards, five-star reviews and stage magic which wows audiences and outshines the films, the story itself cannot quite decide whether it is about Harry Potter or his son, Albus. Even though most of the original characters, like Ron and Hermione, serve as central parts of the story, the numerous cameos do not really add much to the plot aside from serving as a nice pull of the nostalgic heartstrings for long-time fans. Cursed Child is also inconsistent with the concept of time travel presented in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban which is disappointing given that JK Rowling wrote the story for the play herself. The so-called ‘eighth story’ tries to do too much, highlighted by the fact the total performance time is five hours and split into two parts.
Overall, the magic of the original series still remains. The new stories are all driven by the same things that made Harry Potter great: a brilliant and complicated world of magic, a wealth of fascinating characters and fantastical problems boiling down to universal themes of love and loss.
The new projects need to decide on one fundamental question: is the story just about Harry, or are we moving on to other things in the same world? Once they can figure that out, perhaps the niggling question as to whether the Harry Potter series is just becoming a money-grab will disappear.
Inexhaustibly Magical Words, By Rebecca Hobson
It has been 20 years since the first Harry Potter book came out and dramatically changed the face of children’s literature. Both adults and children were reading these books, helping to drive the revival of children’s literature and fantasy. They have changed the importance of children’s literature, both in the publishing industry and the way children read.
Beyond the series itself, JK Rowling has been encouraging fans of the series since the beginning. Her communication and engagement with fans was on a whole new level to her contemporaries. This, along with the popularity of the series, changed the dynamics of fandom.
The increasing integration of internet and fandom facilitated Rowling’s engagement with her readers. There was a fundamental shift bringing fandom and fan works into mainstream ‘geek culture’. Fan sites grew in number, some of them specifically geared toward Harry Potter.
Fan works, at their core, are readers wanting to explore something they love, to be ‘active’ fans rather than ‘passive’ ones. Rowling’s appreciation of fan works has been immensely supportive and has fuelled the legitimisation and explosion of such works in a variety of medias. This form of self-expression allows people to exercise their creativity and their passion and to practice their writing. Neither the author nor the books are without their flaws, and so fandom allows fans to interpret the series in a way that they prefer.
For me, Harry Potter is my comfort read, the books that I will always go back to when I need to calm myself down or when I need to distract myself from my own head. As a kid, the series was my ultimate escape and comfort, and one that I returned to again and again.
Harry Potter drew me into fandom, gave me a way of escape and, most importantly, Harry Potter is what got me writing. The scope and size of the Potterverse sparked my imagination, and so I took a chance and started writing down what was in my head. It was shit, but it was a start. The anonymity of the Internet let me share my own writing. Practice and time have made me better, but Harry Potter inspired me to take my first step.
It isn’t just me either. The sheer volume of people who have been changed or encouraged by Harry Potter and fandom is extraordinary, including those whose mainstream careers were launched from their participation within the fandom. The legacy of Harry Potter, 20 years on, is still reverberating around the world. And I am forever grateful for what it has given me and the world.
Comments Off on I Watched The Red Pill So That You Didn’t Have To
The Red Pill is controversial even before you watch it.
The documentary gets its name from men’s rights folklore. In the 1999 film, The Matrix, Morpheus offers Neo two pills – a red one and a blue one. If Neo takes the blue one, his life carries on as before. But, if he takes the red one, the real truth is revealed, and he is removed from the Matrix. The symbol has been adopted into men’s rights cyberculture – a movement that believes that feminism is deceiving the media, politicians, and the average person. To take the red pill is to realise that you are being duped.
The reaction against the documentary has been strong. Director Cassie Jaye has gone head-to-head with TV presenters on The Project and Sunrise, and a month ago the University of Sydney pulled funding from a screening on campus.
But, for all the furore, the documentary frames itself as a peaceful passage of self-discovery for Jaye. The film begins by asking the question:
‘Have you ever been through something, and you don’t know what just happened, but you know it was important to go through? This was that journey for me.’
Jaye’s soft American voice narrates her journey from feminist to meninist. This is conveyed by staged video logs throughout the documentary, where Jaye slowly starts to doubt whether she is a feminist.
By making the issue of men’s rights one that is personal to her, Jaye attempts to give the movement credit. How could she, a woman and a feminist, possibly be turned to men’s rights activism? If she did it, surely then it must be legitimate.
And, sure, the film raises some good points. Men commit four in five suicides. Settlements in Family Law Courts often skew against them. Society neglects and stigmatises male sexual assault. But the documentary, in its clumsy attempt to mount a case for men’s rights activism, is not self-aware enough to see it’s obvious shortfalls.
It makes embarrassing claims
One of the film’s most ridiculous moments comes in a segment on domestic violence against men. Jaye shows 2014 data which notes that 5.4 million men in the US were subjected to physical violence over the last 12 months, compared to 4.7 million women.
What is so galling is that Jaye displays this data directly above a statistic which shows that rape and other sexual violence weighs hugely against women. What’s more, the qualification for actions comprising ‘physical violence’ is vague, and includes slapping, pushing and shoving.
The 2017 version of the data Jaye cites gives us a better insight. One in four women in the US have been survivors of intimate partner violence at some point in their lives, compared to one in eight men. One in three women are survivors of sexual violence, compared to one in six men. Nearly 23 million women have been victims of rape and attempted rape, compared to 1.3 million men, and women are three times more likely to show symptoms of post-traumatic stress resulting from intimate partner violence compared to men.
Jaye’s indifference to the status quo isn’t just embarrassing. In fact, it’s deeply hurtful to the women whose traumatic experiences she sidelines to prove a point. As with most arguments made in the documentary, though, there is a kernel of common sense – it is appalling that there are few to no male-only domestic violence shelters in the US, despite the existence of survivors across all genders.
The dynamic remains true for other segments. Jaye spends a whole portion of the documentary detailing distressing stories of fathers who have had their children taken away by the children’s mothers. Hearing their stories is heart breaking.
The Red Pill is unashamedly single sided. It never once touches on husbands who abandon women to raise children on their own, or fathers who force women to – or not to – have abortions. These exclusions make what could have been a nuanced piece of work on serious men’s issues seem out of touch.
It unduly blames feminists
The film subtweets feminism constantly, but never substantiates this argument. A good example, again, is the segment on domestic violence against men. The key, untested claim comes from MRA Dean Esmay. He says that there are ‘endless studies which show that women are just as violent as men’ in domestic relationships, suggesting that women – and feminism – misguide public opinion on gendered violence. This simply isn’t true. Studies show that not only are women more likely to be the victim of domestic violence, but men are overwhelmingly the perpetrators. But Jaye lets this slide.
She also fails to place issues such as workplace deaths, army deaths, and a lack of male support services in the context of who creates and implements policies on these matters. The US Congress is overwhelmingly male, as have been most other parliaments in modern times. Men have had the capacity to cater to these needs for decades. They haven’t.
Instead, Jaye’s representation of feminism is flawed. She interviews unflattering feminist figures who, I’ll be honest, are not very persuasive. They are either dry, older figures who use academic jargon to explain feminism or bright-haired, radical feminists who seem genuinely indifferent and dismissive towards men’s experiences.
Jaye diagnoses men’s issues as a product of feminism and ends the documentary on that note – that she no longer regards herself as a feminist.
Despite its flaws, the documentary is potent. Jaye, and the men’s right movement more broadly, might be somewhat detached from evidence and reality. But, at the end of the day, the film did make me more sympathetic towards specific men’s issues.
I didn’t take the red pill, and I didn’t stumble down the rabbit hole. Though, I do worry about how many young men might after watching Cassie Jaye’s documentary on their laptops late one night.
Comments Off on Wonder Woman Is Out of Your League
Even before it became one of the highest grossing films of 2017– and the highest grossing film in history to be directed by a woman – Patty Jenkin’s Wonder Woman was generating quite a stir. The film demonstrates a shift away from the archetypal, cookie-cutter style of superhero movies made popular through the Marvel and DC cinematic universes. Despite this, a continued development of the genre is necessary if superhero movies are to become quality films in their own right without having to lean on contemporary hype.
Chronologically, the film follows Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016) and begins with Diana in possession of a photograph of herself, taken during World War One. The photo is a gift from Bruce Wayne, and his curiosity regarding Diana’s history prompts her to look back upon her past. Diana’s recollection begins with her memories as a child, growing up in the ways of the Amazons on the island of Themyscira. Themyscira is shown through a series of visually stunning shots that reference a fusion of mythology and science fiction, similar to the portrayal of Asgard in the Thor franchise. What struck me about the scenes of Diana’s childhood was how it depicted the Amazons. Instead of slim, Caucasian women in gold, bikini-like armour, the women cast in these roles were professional and semi-professional athletes of a diverse range of ethnocultural backgrounds. Despite that the Amazons are a race consisting only of women, they were shown as being both strong and beautiful without being aggressively sexualised.
Following this, the film establishes the United Kingdom and Europe as its primary setting. Diana, naïve about the human world is devastated to hear from American pilot, Steve Trevor, the atrocities that are occurring as a result of the First World War. The pair along with a diverse band of mercenaries travel to the Western Front in an attempt to put an end to the escalating violence. The cinematography of the film is to commendable for its ability to depict war to its fullest extent in these scenes without any attempt to glorify such conflict. Also, through the inclusion of individuals of colour in the role of soldiers and civilians, Wonder Woman provides a refreshing perspective on the scale of WWI and an acknowledgement of the diverse range of ethnicities involved.
Even with such a sophisticated approach to the subject material, the film was not without its flaws. A major shortcoming of the film was its failure to develop characters consistently. Conformation to other aspects of the superhero movie genre such as exposition-loaded origin stories and prolonged actions scenes were favoured over the exploration of characters and their interactions with one another. Indeed, the motives of Diana herself seem to suffer the most from a lack of development throughout the film. Furthermore, the reliance of Wonder Woman and indeed most hero movies on romantic relationships between the protagonist and a ‘mortal’ character as a way of humanising the hero cheapens the film and undoes aspects of Jenkin’s attempt to establish Wonder Woman as something more than the archetypal hero movie.
While I don’t think that Wonder Woman is the saviour of all superhero films, I do believe its unique take on the subject material is a reflection of the maturation of the genre. With the move to involve more women and people of colour both onscreen and off, and the development of more complex interpretations of original material, we’re moving away from the archetypal hero movie towards something much better.
Where Toy Story, Lord of the Rings, and Star Wars have succeeded in the art of the threequel, many others have failed the difficult and dangerous task. The success of the threequel largely depends on whether it has a strong enough storyline, enough continued character development, and enough novel concepts to maintain interest and stand up to the first two films. Cars 3 has each of these. Lightning McQueen is now a fading racing legend forced to confront a new breed of technologically superior racers with the help of an entertaining bunch of introduced friends.
While the first two Cars films were not as ambitious or spectacular as Toy Story, LOTR, or Star Wars, they were certainly relaxing and enjoyable films. The middle-of-the-road nature of the Cars films has since been extended into the dull spinoff, Planes. Cars 3 continues the tradition of unambitious but enjoyable movie experiences, with the added benefit of significant advances in animation in the decade since the first film. The animation is incredible in its detail and richness, from individual drops of mud splattering a windshield to the heat shimmer of a flame. It’s reminiscent of the exceptional quality of animation of individual strands of hair for Disney’s Brave or, more recently, Moana. It is commendable that a film series featuring simplistic and goofy but loveable cars could reach the stage where facial expressions are both nuanced and believable.
While I felt a little saddened that former favourite characters were relegated to minor roles, the new ones are compelling and reveal emotional depth. A real surprise considering that they are, of course, animated cars! Again, Pixar reveals its greatest strength – forging emotional bonds between the audience and anthropomorphised characters, and using this relationship to lead us on a thrilling ride. This film revels in the emotive nature of that journey, offering feminist overtones and a non-romantic male-female mentor relationship that is both refreshing and charming. Despite some repetitive and uninspired race sequences, Cars 3 remains a surprisingly enjoyable movie experience. A worthy threequel to the series that will likely stretch to a fourth film.
Alien: Covenant joins a long line of Alien films and acts as a prequel to the 1979 classic and a sequel to the 2012 film Prometheus. Being part of a large franchise puts a lot of pressure on follow-up films to do well and unfortunately for Covenant, it crumbled.
Covenant continues with the Alien staple of making you feel physically uncomfortable. These feelings are due to the extreme amounts of blood and gore, the bone crunching scenes of the first xenomorph, the weird phallic imagery, and the sexually charged violence. The film certainly fits a cookie cutter model but, between the acting and directing, it is under baked. Covenant spends so much time mirroring the first film that it fails to explore its new elements sufficiently. That doesn’t mean the visual references aren’t appreciated. In fact, if they didn’t exist it would be a struggle to recognise the film as being part of the series.
The film lacks something critical to what made the first Alien film great – its use of shadows as visual references. The original xenomorph drifted in and out of shadows seamlessly, more to hide the animatronics than anything but what it did out of necessity created immense suspense. Covenant does the direct opposite – it frequently shows the xenomorphs in full light with the apparent intent to garner fear from the enormity and danger. But, realistically, it reduces the tension and makes them laughable.
Michael Fassbender single-handedly carries this film through his portrayal of David and Walter. The rest of the cast have their moments. Katherine Waterson especially has some rather heart-wrenching sad faces, but a lack of exploration into the relationships of the film means that they end there. The characters frequently act as if their motivation in life was to embody the Nike motto – they just did it – despite appearing stupid or being told by the other characters not to.
There are interesting motifs to creationism, but, despite the screen time allotted and the presence of an apparently religious character, they fall short without exploration. The only references to a character’s religion are via throwaway lines that add little to the overall development of characters or the plot.
Covenant asks a lot of questions and keeps the audience engaged with the search for answers but, ultimately, it doesn’t deliver. It makes watching the film vaguely frustrating. This is not going to be a film that surprises you. It is predictable in almost every way, and there isn’t a death or a plot twist you don’t expect. In the end, this film feels like a cash grab and a very unsuccessful one at that. What’s that phrase about ‘beating a dead xenomorph’?
Yashi Compares
Yashi is undertaking a double degree in International Relations/ Environmental Studies and hails from Western Sydney. Her column is like a Yelp review for things that aren’t restaurants and instead of useful information, it’s incoherent rambling for 800 words and she doesn’t even get promoted to ‘Top Contributor’ status.
On most nights before turning in, my partner and I will attempt to watch one short episode of a TV series to wind down for the night. It’s a little reward for, in his case being, and in my case attempting to be, productive. After countless nights facing the same issue, here is basically how every conversation goes:
Partner: Bed?
Me: Agreed.
P: Netflix?
M: Agreed.
P: What do you feel like watching?
M: I’ll know when I see it.
P: Um ok. How about ‘Because you watched The Chefs Table … British TV shows? Goofy TV shows? Maybe something in Oddballs & Outcasts?’
M: I don’t know, but now I’m confused and tired so I’m going to bed.
Sometimes, to give the illusion we’re actually getting somewhere, I’ll throw in a ‘oh, I’ve heard that’s really good’ or an ‘I’m not feeling like it tonight, but we definitely need to watch that at some point’. On special occasions, I like to sprinkle in some ‘okay let’s put that on our shortlist and if we can’t find anything better, we’ll start on that’, knowing full well that we will never ‘start’ on anything.
Many weeks ago, in my pursuit to find a half decent show to watch before bed, I decided to undertake a research project that, unbeknownst to me, would eventually lead to the next stage of human evolution. With a determination to procrastinate beyond all those before me, I have found the genre that stands out among the rest.
My friends, the future of bedtime show watching lies not in goofy mockumentaries (no shade Parks & Rec, you still my all time fave), but in full fledged, honest to God, documentaries.
Get your jammies on, cocoon yourself in the warmth of a Big W duvet, and forget everything you thought you knew about going to bed. I am about to share with you the two of the greatest documentaries to grace this Earth.
Number two: Chef’s Table
From the streets of New York to the southern-most provinces of South Korea, Chef’s Table showcases leaders of the world gastronomy scene. These chefs push the boundaries of what ‘good’ food should be, what it should look like, where it should come from, and why we should consume it.
The team behind the show is phenomenal. They not only capture the artistry of the food, but the electricity within the restaurant kitchen, and the creative energy of the star chef. Somehow, they weave it into such a captivating story – it makes me not want to eat food that hasn’t had an hour long documentary made about it. The actual cinematography is also fantastic. I have never seen food in such high definition, and I have eyeballs.
Most episodes follow the same story arch, which can get quite repetitive if you binge watch the series, but also you shouldn’t do that: show some self-restraint.
My personal favourites from each season: In season one, ‘Massimo Bottura’ and ‘Francis Mallman’, in season two: ‘Alex Atala’ and ‘Ana Ros’, and in season three: ‘Jeong Kwan’ and ‘Virgilio Martinez’.
Number one: Life Off Grid
This is a film that documents the successes and challenges of living completely off the grid. By harnessing renewable energy and utilising local natural resources, hundreds of Canadian citizens have managed to completely disconnect themselves from the national grid and live close to 100 per cent self-sufficient lives.
There’s a man that’s so guilt ridden about ‘frivolously’ wasting his stored energy on watching television for one night of the week, he rides an exercise bike in his house to grind flour at the same time. How did that sentence even come into existence? I don’t have the answers for you, but I can tell you that this man is real and he actually does that. It’s been documented and it’s glorious.
As one woman describes it as a way of living that guarantees you ‘your own home rather than a mortgage’. Her house is made of tyres. Another interviewee’s house in the far reaches of British Columbia is made entirely of Cob – a clay, sand, water and straw mixture – that cost him around $1000. So, essentially, if you refrain from eating just under 350 avocadoes, you’ve got yourself a house.
Also, Canada, you are beautiful. Like, wow. Holy moly. I don’t know why people waste their money on the United States.
Other documentaries that take my fancy
This isn’t a particularly extensive list so some honourable mentions include Planet Earth, most ‘Louis from the BBC’ films, and of course, Grand Designs UK (especially the revisited series). Kevin McLoud is a hunk and anyone that says otherwise is a liar and shouldn’t be trusted.
Enjoy watching dear friends, I hope I have opened your eyes to a world outside of sitcoms and British period drama.
Not For Vegetarians
It’s interesting watching a movie centred on cannibalism and having absolutely no idea what is going on. When I turned on the 2016 French film ‘Raw’ (‘Grave’), I had only briefly read a description of it that read ‘vegetarian girl goes to vet school’. So when bright-eyed, academically-gifted central-character Justine gave into temptation and devoured her older sister’s amputated finger, I was startled, to say the least.
Director Julia Ducournau’s debut film tells the story of Justine (Garance Marilleier), who moves away to college to study veterinary science, following in the footsteps of her parents and older sister Alexia (Ella Rumpf). There, she and the other first years are forced to endure a series of hellish hazing rituals, including being forced to eat raw rabbit kidney – an ominous hint of what was to come. As the movie progresses, Justine explores and battles with her own, and Alexia’s, yearning for flesh – both human and animal.
At the moment of the finger eating (and at several points after that), I admit I had doubts as to my own predominantly vegetarian stomach’s ability to handle the rest of the film. I pressed on though, and I’m glad I did. Ducournau presents a visually stunning, meticulously edited and cleverly written first film which well and truly goes beyond a mere thriller. Despite her increasingly repellent behaviour, the audience remains emotionally invested in Justine as she struggles with loneliness and confusion, discovering her sexuality and bizarre desires for flesh.
The film’s obsession with flesh is intoxicating. Ducournau conveys the frantic, feverish physicality of youth in a startlingly refreshing – albeit mildly traumatising – way. Every moment flesh is consumed is a shock but also layered with meaning. The gore of the movie seems to be an expression of the chaos of youth. Running motifs of savage sexuality, drunken humiliation, eating disorders, teen angst and frenzied peer pressure are evident throughout the film. These make Justine’s every violent episode seem to be an outlet for her own confusion in this world of youth and self-discovery.
The strong performances of the two lead actors carry the film. Their turbulent sibling relationship is consistently tense, and at points, heartbreaking. It climaxes in a shockingly aggressive fight in which the movie pauses momentarily; the two sisters staring, their teeth locked into one another, into each other’s eyes. The film’s lead Garance Marilleier is also able to capture, with astounding versatility, Justine’s transformation from a naive animal rights activist to the monstrous and emaciated wreck she becomes.
This film is original, arresting and nauseating … but well worth the gore.