Review #1,402: 'Hold the Dark' (2018)

Whether you appreciate his genre-hopping and wince-inducingly violent movies or not, nobody could ever accuse director Jeremy Saulnier of lacking ambition. From the grisly, low-budget revenge picture Blue Ruin to the greasy punks/neo-Nazi stand-off of Green Room, Saulnier has always demonstrated the will to subvert our expectations, to carry us off into seemingly safe territory before slapping us across the face with a moment of utter savagery. It seems strange then, that Saulnier's most ambitious movie to date, the Alaskan-set 'mystery' Hold the Dark, debuted on the small screen via Netflix. The word mystery is in inverted commas because this is one of a few genres Hold the Dark dips its toes into, making for an unsettling and surprising film, but also a frustrating and confusing one. The scope is noticeably broader than Saulnier's previous efforts as the action hops between different continents and viewpoints, but Saulnier and writer Macon Blair fail to maintain a firm grasp of the story.

In a small town out in the Alaskan wilderness a few children have gone missing - suspected of being taken away by wolves - and Bailey Sloane is the latest to disappear. His mother, Medora (Riley Keough) writes to Russell Core (Jeffrey Wright), a naturalist who has written a book about his experiences killing a wolf, in the hope that he will hunt down the animals responsible. He agrees, curious of Medora's motivations, and the two damaged, introverted characters form a quiet bond through shared loneliness. Meanwhile, Medora's husband Vernon (Alexander Skarsgard), a soldier fighting in Afghanistan (the film takes place in 2004), is notified of his son's abduction. His own wife describes him as an animal, and we quickly understand why. A towering, fearsome figure, Vernon is a man who believes that murder is wholly justified, even necessary, when it comes to protecting the ones you love. When he arrives in town, all hell breaks loose, attracting the attention of the unprepared and unequipped local police force, led by chief Donald Marium (James Badge Dale).

The synopsis is vague because to reveal any more would be to spoil the film's most interesting aspect, its sheer unpredictability. The first hour draws you in with its sombre and almost threatening atmosphere, as it seems to set up a familiar man vs beast scenario, and the ethical conundrums that come with it. It then takes a sharp, violent turn with a riveting set-piece that comes out of nowhere, and from then on you won't have a clue where you're heading. The main problem is that the film doesn't seem to know either, and when we finally arrive at a certain destination in the story, we don't really know where we are. The clashing tones and genre switches of Saulnier's previous movies felt organic and exciting, but the pieces don't quite fit together in Hold the Dark. If you were to view individual scenes, there's some great work here. Saulnier understands how to grab your attention and execute moments of brutality that don't feel gratuitous or exploitative, and an extended shoot-out that successfully blends horror and action is the film's most shocking and memorable moment. Wright is terrific too, but his pained whispers aren't enough to save this from being Saulnier's weakest film to date, made all the more frustrating by the fact that there are moments of brilliance throughout.


Directed by: Jeremy Saulnier
Starring: Jeffrey Wright, Alexander Skarsgård, James Badge Dale, Riley Keough, Julian Black Antelope
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,094: 'Blue Ruin' (2013)

During Blue Ruin's festival run in 2013, I recall hearing whispers of a new visionary in the vein of the Coen brothers and Quentin Tarantino who was unafraid to shock and rattle the audience with sudden explosions of violence combined with jet-black humour. While Jeremy Saulnier's second feature, following 2007's Murder Party, certainly has elements of the Coen's claustrophobic neo-noir work, the Tarantino comparisons are completely misjudged. Blue Ruin is very much the work of a director sculpting his own vision, and one that will keep you glued to your seat as the film twists and turns, deliberately dodging nearly every trope of the revenge drama.

While most revenge flicks begin with an act of violence that will lead its scarred protagonist on their journey of righting a wrong, Blue Ruin's initial hook is that it opens slowly and ominously, with a dirty, bearded man breaking into a home to take a bath. When the family arrive home, he flees into the neighbourhood naked, stealing clothes from a nearby washing line. Ragged and apparently half-starved, the man stumbles back to his home - a hollowed-out blue car (the 'blue ruin' of the title) in the middle of a field. This, as it turns out, is Dwight, our great hero, played with astonishing subtlety by Macon Blair, and a visit from the police quickly sets him on a vastly different path. The man responsible for something horrific in Dwight's past has been released from prison, so he heads back to his hometown seeking revenge.

The revenge is not the final goal of the film, as this is carried out early on in particularly gruesome and realistic fashion. Instead, it is the repercussions that place Dwight and his estranged family in a situation they can either flee from or face head-on. The victim of Dwight's act has his own family, only they are all gun-wielding criminals, and the lack of news coverage of the incident can only mean one thing - they have decided to take matters into their own hands. Although they are rarely seen throughout the course of the film, you get the sense that they are never far behind, forcing Dwight to seek help from and old childhood friend, ex-Army good ol' boy Ben (Devin Ratray - who I only realised after the film had finished played the bullying Buzz in Home Alone (1990)), and his arsenal of firearms.

While it may sound like the film veers off into the realms of gun fantasy, it really doesn't. The relative ease in which Dwight acquires weaponry only gives the film an underlying anti-gun message, and the scenes of bloody violence are certainly anything but pornographic. They are ugly and revolting, as are many of the film's characters, even the ones we're on the side of. Non-preachy themes aside, the main pleasures to be had with Blue Ruin are during its smaller moments. This is a film where a burst tyre or an accidentally self-inflicted knife wound to the hand don't simply provide an excuse for a set-piece, but pose serious problems for its antagonist. Despite the film moving at a slow pace for the most part, it's entirely nerve-jangling and almost scary, as it's almost impossible to guess where the movie may be heading. While I feel Saulnier's next slice of terror Green Room is a better film, this is only a sign of a director perfecting his craft.


Directed by: Jeremy Saulnier
Starring: Macon Blair, Devin Ratray, Amy Hargreaves, Kevin Kolack
Country: USA/France

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,053: 'Green Room' (2015)

At the time of writing this review, it's been just over a month since the shocking and tragic news of gifted Russian-born actor Anton Yelchin's death in a freak car accident. He left behind a trail of films in his wake, and a few more to come (including his role as Chekov in Justin Lin's Star Trek Beyond), and it's quite astounding just how prolific an actor he was during his short career. One of his final films, released not long before his death, is also one of his best. Writer/director Jeremy Saulnier's follow-up to his critically-acclaimed Blue Ruin (2013) is a stunning exercise in survival horror.

It begins with the Ain't Rights, a punk band on their way to a gig that turns out to be a waste of time. After an uncomfortable social media interview, the band - consisting of Pat (Yelchin), Sam (Alia Shawkat), Reece (Peaky Blinders' Joe Cole) and Tiger (Callum Turner) - are thrown a gig at a dingy bar in small-town Oregon. It's the type of place adorned with Confederate flags and fascist graffiti on the walls, and, in true punk style, the band introduce themselves with a rendition of Dead Kennedy's Nazi Punks Fuck Off. After the gig, the group find themselves locked in a room holding an unlicensed gun after accidentally witnessing a brutal murder. The situation worsens when club owner and neo-Nazi party leader Darcy (Patrick Stewart) turns up to deal with the situation.

The events that follow are pure horror stripped down to the bone, sometimes literally. There's nothing supernatural or indeed unbelievable about the situation, just a group of inept youngsters facing off against a small army of bruising, well-organised skinheads armed with weapons designed to inflict grisly damage and a pack of trained pit-bulls. The violence is ugly and wince-inducing, with the awkwardness of the ones often inflicting the pain only heightening the sense of desperation and utter dread of the situation. The tension is only broken by the ramblings of a somewhat confusing sub-plot, which unravels itself through half-heard mumblings, and this only distracts from the immediacy of the central plot thread.

Saulnier asks quite a lot of his cast, as even the heroes of the story aren't the most likeable bunch. They steal petrol, drink beer, cause trouble - pretty much what you would expect from a real-life young band trying to make a buck. But Yelchin has always been especially skilled at eliciting sympathy from any character he has played. As he and his companion Amber (Imogen Poots) - a close friend of the murdered girl - fight desperately for their lives, you are willing them all the way, rather than becoming frustrated at their ineptitude. Stewart also makes an impression as the quietly menacing skin-head leader, a role played completely against type, and it's a shame he isn't given more to do. The actor said he knew he wanted to take on the role when he was left terrified at home after finishing the script, and no doubt you'll be making sure the doors are locked once the credits role too.


Directed by: Jeremy Saulnier
Starring: Anton Yelchin, Imogen Poots, Alia Shawkat, Patrick Stewart, Joe Cole, Macon Blair
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie