Father Nature's Sick Cyclicity!
Where to begin with this review? There’s an array of places I could start—hell, I’d like to start at the end. Go for the jugular, pop the balloon! But I suppose I’ll keep things linear, for simplicity’s sake. This film already confounded some viewers. No need to muddy the waters, I suppose. Although, I didn’t find MEN confusing, really, and that’s probably a good place to start. But before we dive in, and as always, I never provide a deep synopsis. You’ve got at least one device, and access to the trailer abounds. Besides, you certainly wouldn’t be here if you were going in blind—good thing, because there will be spoilers.
We’re talking MEN, written and directed by Alex Garland, the same man who brought us EX MACHINA and ANNIHILATION. MEN stars the always talented Jessie Buckley as Harper, a woman who makes her way to a beautiful cottage in the country, in search of solace and healing after the tragic death of her husband. Alongside her is an actor who can do no wrong, Rory Kinnear, who plays the villain and nearly every other character. There are five other actors in the film (only four of which we see), with little screen time. The incredibly small cast lends to the isolation of both our main character and the viewer. Instead, the beautiful but dreary English countryside is our protagonist’s steady companion. Until it isn’t. Or, rather, until it proves it never really was. Instead, it’s a seemingly innocuous landscape, concealing nature’s ugly truths lying in wait. After all, it’s not a woman’s world. Just ask Garland. And Father Nature’s influences have decayed our roots far more than Mother’s ever did.
Upon the release of the trailer, I was immediately taken with the premise of MEN. Actually, I wasn’t too sure what the premise was—I’m not one to dissect a trailer too heavily before watching a film— but none of that mattered. We had A24 and Rory Kinnear, playing disturbing character after disturbing character. What wasn’t there to love? I mean…the man has boffed pigs (if you know, you know), been pieced back together by a mad scientist (only to give us some of the most touching, beautiful scenes in Penny Dreadful), and now he’s tormenting Jessie Buckley in the most disturbing way a man can, with an insidious cruelty that proves inexorable, inescapable and, most terrifying, preordained.
Unlike more ambiguous psychological horror films, like Villeneuve’s ENEMY or Lynch’s MULHOLLAND DRIVE, MEN hits squarely on the nose, though it’s not without a heavy dose of symbolism that wallops you at the end. There are even a few biblical and pagan symbols thrown in for good measure. But make no mistake, we’re not wading through heaps of symbolism like viewers did with Aronofsky’s MOTHER. And unlike MOTHER, I’m not inclined to say MEN was as much an allegory as it is a pointed artistic portrayal of what many in society believe: men are often the villain, and father nature passes down these wicked traits until all men become an appendage of nature’s worst monstrosity.
MEN does a lot of its heavy hitting with its talent. The acting was stellar. You can scan the dusty corners and search under the sooty couch cushions and still not find a complaint about our two leads. Buckley and Kinnear are experts at what they do, making scenes that were no doubt difficult, and lines that required masterful skill, appear effortless. Watching these two was a joy, and in the subtlest of scenes I found power in their amazing reach. The cinematography was great. Visually, MEN is top notch. And sweet baby Jesus, the score! Anyone who knows me can attest to my being a devout score whore. Dangle a tasty horror score in front of me and you’ve got me at attention, salivating and begging for more. Ben Salisbury and Geoff Barow must’ve performed a bit of alchemy, because this score is magic. It’s in its discreet power and the precise eeriness of the vocals that the music floats. It’s beautiful, really.
Fantastic acting, beautiful imagery, and a kick-ass score. These elements often add up to a pleasurable movie-going experience…though I’d be remiss to call this film pleasant. MEN taps into weighty subject matter and, despite its very slow crawl, does little to ease the audience into moments of quietude. I found it pleasurable, but this is where the average horror fan and I differ. One dabbles, while the other worships. This is likely the differentiating factor in my enjoyment in a conclusion many viewers found offensive, revolting, confusing, or all the above. Still, I stand by my initial assessment upon leaving the theater: A true film buff will find something to appreciate about the last fifteen minutes of this film, as will dedicated horror fans.
I loved the ending. I know, I know. I can almost hear the guttural sighs and groans already, but bear with me. All too often, filmmakers do little to push themselves outside their confines. We creatives are often too afraid to kick away the line in the sand and take that precipitous step into uncharted territory. But this is where great films and amazing movie moments are made, and they’re not made for everyone. Do something different and people will gripe. Take a chance and people will call you crazy. But these naysayers gorge on Hollywood Blockbusters, syrupy rom-coms, and gobble up tired tropes like Costco samples on a Saturday morning. If necessity is the mother of invention, artistic impotency is the mother of creativity. No true artist can wade through stagnation too long before molting. We need to keep moving the bar forward and up.
Alex Garland might not have catered to the masses, but no one who makes a mark ever does. You’ve got to be willing to roll the dice if you’re going to move people, be it to tears, to revulsion, or, in my case, to fascination. In his pursuit to portray mankind’s propensity to pass our evils onto our children, Garland gave us a strikingly bold view of the literal birth, and rebirth, of ingrained behaviors that have historically been passed from father to son, ensuring woman’s role as victim. Every man our protagonist meets wears the same face and carries within him the same darkness, despite his slight differences in appearance. This speaks not only to man’s propensity for evil, but it touches on a truth that many female victims come to know: monsters are everywhere, and in every man encountered. Even in the outwardly undisturbed moments of respite our protagonist scrounges, a man exposes himself in the shadows, taking from her tranquility. From the simplest of moments, to the most impactful, men leave their fingerprints on every facet of our protagonist’s life, ensuring their impact will haunt her forevermore. It’s in this that the men in MEN, particularly Harper’s husband, wield their most formidable power.
Now for the flip side of this coin. While I enjoyed MEN and very much appreciate the ending, it’s not without its faults. The film hits the center of the bullseye so directly, it leaves few ripples in its wake, and instead of dissecting its observations, it merely makes them. Men are often bad, need control, and are innately prone to violence. And if they’re not the ones committing violent acts, they’re victim-blaming. There’s no further journey into these themes—just the observation that they exist. While not every film needs a deeper meaning, MEN too slowly meanders through elongated shots and bloated scenes, cresting to what viewers no doubt expect will be an autopsy of the film’s narrative. In the end, we get one hell of a finale, but it adds very little heart to the story.
MEN is a mixed bag, though it offers more strawberry and grape Skittles than those pesky lemon & lime hurdles meant to piss on your day. It’s an amazing film in terms of artistry, and I absolutely applaud the shattered confines I had to tiptoe around on my way out of the theater. I recommend it to any film buff or serious lover of horror. However, it had very little to say, especially for a film that takes itself so seriously at times. MEN does little to appeal to casual viewers, which I can often get behind, but it leaves much to be desired for buffs, and requires too much of general audiences. Personally, while I can’t say I loved it, I certainly like it…possibly quite a bit.
At the end of the day, if we can agree on nothing else, let it be this: None of us have ever seen penile delivery, nor that much man-gina in all our lives, and that’s something we can all gather ‘round the dinner table and have a good, awkward laugh about!
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