The Nightingale. (18.)
Directed by Jennifer Kent.
Starring Aisling Franciosi, Sam Clafin, Baykali Ganambarr, Damon Herriman and Harry Greenwood. 136 mins
Following a 15 certificate horror movie with an 18 certificate period drama is an odd way to go about things. Jennifer Kent's scary debut The Babadook was full of subtle, half-glimpsed menace, but there is nothing subtle or half-glimpsed in the on screen horrors depicted in this tale of frontier revenge in Tazmania in the early 19th century. When Irish convict Clare (Franciosi) heads into the uncharted bush to get revenge on the soldier (Clafin) that wrecked her family, no horror is flinched and few expletives passed not beginning with C. If the aim was to make a film about the savagery of life in the colonies that was as harrowing and grueling to watch as it was to live through, she's succeeded.
And it is very impressive. Using dream sequences to document a character's psychological torment is usually blunderbuss dramatics but it is done skillfully here. For the journey through the bush, Clare employs the services of an Aboriginal (Ganambarr) as a guide and the way their relationship moves from hostility to friendship and understanding may be the only time such a process of coming to terms with the other has been done truthfully on films.
Much of The Nightingale is an act of rebellion against the “laws” of screenwriting. The rules say you should enter a scene as late as possible, get to the point and be succinct but Kent's approach is meandering and quite prepared to double back on itself and return to a scene that you assumed we were already done with. Which is bold, realistic but often frustrating. In a film containing more than your recommend daily dose of harrow and gruel, it makes for a tough ask on audiences.
Directed by Jennifer Kent.
Starring Aisling Franciosi, Sam Clafin, Baykali Ganambarr, Damon Herriman and Harry Greenwood. 136 mins
Following a 15 certificate horror movie with an 18 certificate period drama is an odd way to go about things. Jennifer Kent's scary debut The Babadook was full of subtle, half-glimpsed menace, but there is nothing subtle or half-glimpsed in the on screen horrors depicted in this tale of frontier revenge in Tazmania in the early 19th century. When Irish convict Clare (Franciosi) heads into the uncharted bush to get revenge on the soldier (Clafin) that wrecked her family, no horror is flinched and few expletives passed not beginning with C. If the aim was to make a film about the savagery of life in the colonies that was as harrowing and grueling to watch as it was to live through, she's succeeded.
And it is very impressive. Using dream sequences to document a character's psychological torment is usually blunderbuss dramatics but it is done skillfully here. For the journey through the bush, Clare employs the services of an Aboriginal (Ganambarr) as a guide and the way their relationship moves from hostility to friendship and understanding may be the only time such a process of coming to terms with the other has been done truthfully on films.
Much of The Nightingale is an act of rebellion against the “laws” of screenwriting. The rules say you should enter a scene as late as possible, get to the point and be succinct but Kent's approach is meandering and quite prepared to double back on itself and return to a scene that you assumed we were already done with. Which is bold, realistic but often frustrating. In a film containing more than your recommend daily dose of harrow and gruel, it makes for a tough ask on audiences.
