possession – The Framing Device

The Untamed (Dir. Amat Escalante, 2018)

Never one to shy away from the confrontational, Amat Escalante’s follow up to the unflinchingly brutal Heli (2012) is available now on DVD and Blu-ray courtesy of Arrow Films and its Arrow Academy label.

Straddling science fiction, horror and a Mexican kitchen sink drama, The Untamed, begins with a lingering shot of a meteor hovering in space. Its crash to Earth occurs off-camera but leaves a large crater in its wake and t brought something with it. That ‘something’ has tentacles, presumably a respiratory system of sorts, despite having no visible organs or features, and has taken up residency in the barn of an ageing couple (played by Oscar Escalante and Bernarda Trueba). It has a regular visitor in the form of Verónica (Simone Bucio) who, well it’s never made implicit what or how she serves the alien form despite strong indications; only that on this occasion, she is injured and forced to leave and find aid.

Shocked and bleeding, she seeks refuge in a local hospital where her wound is treated by Fabián (Edén Villavicencio) and one thing leads to another and the lonely and somewhat mysterious Verónica inserts herself into the gay nurse’s life and by extension his sister Ale (Ruth Ramos) and her less-than-blissful domestic set-up with cheating, bullish homophobe husband Ángel (Jesús Meza) and their two small boys. The stranger convinces them that the life form which resides in that barn is the answer to their problems just prior to and even after devastating, irreparable tragedy.

Apparently made as a direct response to chauvinism, mainstream homophobia and the moral perception of tragedy, this fantastical allegory builds atmosphere with a literal humming buzz in the diegesis and taps into our basest primitive state, and the relationship between pain and pleasure. This dichotomy is beautifully depicted through Ale and Angel’s youngest son and his love of chocolate, he knows he’s allergic but can’t resist. Those moments of gratification are worth it, even if it means an angry-looking itchy red rash and a prodding injection. Seemingly, for the adults, pain and pleasure mature through sex and violence, however, this is never fully connected within the film’s narrative, the strange alien life force or the human subjects.

The Untamed deals with hefty subject matters and is a human drama within a sci-fi-erotic-horror film. Several scenes are clearly influenced by Andrzej Žulawski (the late filmmaker is even acknowledged in the closing credits), there are moments which feel Cronenbergian, and even includes a scene which reminded of von Trier’s Antichrist (2009). The horror aspects never feel forced and are fascinating, specifically the creature, one is drawn to it much like the lost souls in the film yet it’s not given that much screen time. Sadly, it is in the human drama aspect that the film falls down. There was an intensity, rage and heft to Heli and even Žulawski’s Possession (1981) (if we’re to take that as the main text of inspiration) which feels missing here; yes it’s subversive, intelligent, and well put together but overall muted and a little disappointing.

DISC EXTRAS

The Making of The Untamed (84 mins) – this in-depth footage takes us behind the scenes with the cast and crew of the film, shot by one the film’s composers and the director’s brother, Martín Escalante. There are fascinating moments, warm interludes between filmmaker and his collaborators – who seem to compromise of some long-term friends and family members – and laborious retakes in shooting. Amat Escalante is a perfectionist, that much is clear.

Amarrados (Tied Up) (15 mins) – Escalante’s first short which took first prize at the 2002 Voladero International Film Festival in Mexico and won him Best Short and Best Director at the Newport Beach International Film festival in 2003. Shot in black and white, the film centres around Niño (Abel Diaz), a young homeless boy who’s stuck in a vicious cycle of sexual abuse and glue-sniffing. There’s a beauty amid the misery in this short, in which class, race and religion are alluded to and Escalante’s follow-shot is included: a great edition to the disc.

First Pressing Only – Booklet featuring new writing on the film by critic and author Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, writing by critic Jonathan Romney, the director’s statement and extracts from the press book, illustrated with original stills (unavailable at the time of review).

Beyond the Hills (Dir. Cristian Mungiu, 2012)

Damnant quod non intellegunt*

Beyond the Hills is Cristian Mungiu’s follow up to 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days which won the coveted Palme d’Or in 2007 and once again, the director utilises the close friendship of two female protagonists to comment upon gender and politics influenced by Communism and its chokehold on Romanian society. While political and sexual repressions were depicted through the gamut of illegal abortion, here it is commented upon through an organised religious sect.

Volchita (Cosmina Stratan) and Alina (Cristina Flutur) are young women in their twenties, having grown up together in an orphanage. They have a familial bond tied by history and circumstance rather than blood; the true nature of their relationship is hinted at yet remains somewhat ambiguous throughout. Alina returns from Germany, where she now works, for a few days – a holiday – expectant that Volchita will return with her. Instead, she finds her friend living in a Monastery deep in the Romanian hills, literally hidden from civilisation embedded in an austere, archaic landscape. Volchita is confined to the bosom of Nuns who cohabit under the strict patriarchal, authoritarian rule of ‘Father’ (Valeriu Anchuta). The devout community stands alone next to an unconsecrated Church which houses a small congregation on a holy day. A sign on the front gate reads, “This is the house of God, forbidden to anybody of a different religion. Believe and don’t doubt”, the irony of which is not lost on the viewer especially once learning of the idolatrous and essentially, sacrilegious existence of this ‘House of God’. It is interesting and somewhat staggering to note that nearly 86% of the Romanian population practises the Orthodox faith, despite the fact that the country has no state religion but then, this film is not preoccupied with religious institution, at least not completely.

Mungiu’s third feature is a love story of sorts, faith at its very heart; belief in State, family and in a God which remains largely silent. It is a film about exorcism/possession, one situated outside of the confines of genre conventions and misogynistic dictatorship which is set on suppressing sinners who also happen to be women. The population outside is at a distance. You would be forgiven for thinking of it as a historical drama, the community is frozen in time, isolated, amid a lack of running water and electricity, save for Alina and her contemporary clothes. She is often the only splash of colour in an otherwise dark, dismal, and sombre mise-en-scène. She is a symbol of the outside world threatening to upset and challenge the religious conservatism and totalitarianism that appear to have engulfed Volchita.

The film is beautifully shot, blue and grey hued washes are abundant across the breathtaking landscape always captured in long shot, adding, not only, to its beauty but also educing the notion of freedom especially when juxtaposed with the interior medium shots. All employ, long takes, deep focus and are tightly framed which feeds the claustrophobic and repressive nature of the Monastery, exacerbating the tension between the religious and secular dichotomy and, in addition, the verisimilar style of storytelling Mungiu and his Romanian New Wave contemporaries adopt.

Beyond the Hills is deliberately paced to show the mundanity of life and natural flow of time. It is an enthralling and chilling commentary on traditionalism, irrationality of society and humanity at its most flawed. By its conclusion, which takes a jolting twist, all are accountable and yet there is no obvious villain. The final shot will resonate for a long time after the film has finished, once again, proving Mungiu as a director of merit, one who can coax astonishing performances from his leading actors and I know I, for one, will be awaiting his next contribution with bated breath.

*They condemn what they don’t understand