Even by studio A-24 standards of the metaphorically and symbolically excessive, this is one of the more surreal films out there. If slow-burn arthouse folk horror strikes your fancy, this movie will serve rather well. The pace is leisurely and languid and intended to showcase lush landscapes, gorgeously filmed and almost magical, with greenery permeating each inch of the frame. Contrasted with nightmarish lurid red hues of memory and tragedy. Not a lot happens for a solid duration of runtime as the main character is slowly coping with traumatic events and echoes, after a while encountering increasingly strange visitations. It is impossible to discern how much of what the main character is seeing or witnessing is real or mental tricks. The filmmaking is purposefully ambiguous and she seems not to respond to unsettling gleering from faces wearing the unsetting visage of Rory Kinnear, including superimposed upon children in uncanny ways. As things proceed, events escalate and the visitations begin to manifest primordial and archetypal until our protagonist is confronted with strange manifestations of allegory and myth. The last act will certainly prove divisive and mind-bending with a grotesque finale which may baffle but will certainly linger in one’s mind. It's the kind of film for people who felt Mother was clear and unambiguous. Alex Garland is without question an astounding director, wielding color and visual symbolism as active components of narrative. He films surreal and dreamlike sequences that will feel almost disjointed from time and reason itself, and gripping scenes of increasing paranoia and threat. There exists already legion of dissertation and dissection of the elements within, so needless to say this is dense and thought provoking. Whether it is successful at conveying its messages is extreme audience subjectivity, the movie's pace, burn, messages and reveal are equally divisive and likely alienating, but irregardless the filmmaking is exquisite.
Men (2022)