Fantasia 2010: THE LOVED ONES Review
[Our thanks to Lauren Baggett for the following review.]
There have been some fantastic movies playing this year at the Fantasia festival that are just not catching a break. I saw We Are What We Are in a theater that was only around two-thirds full, the crowd at haunting documentary Into Eternity had plenty of room to stretch their legs, and now Australian wonder The Loved Ones bowed in front of an audience who had seats to spare. In such an immense space as the Hall Theater (700-plus seats!) this is still a pretty big achievement, and I know it's a bit much to expect the venue packed to the rafters each and every night. But there were some real gems this year, with fabulous pre-festival buzz, that just didn't get the attention at Fantasia that I was expecting.
Which is a complete and utter shame, because I think I just saw the most delightfully twisted horror film of the year.
The Loved Ones starts with a bang and barely lets up in its slim 84 minute running time. Protagonist Brent has recently metamorphosed into a morose death-metal teen with cutting issues after the death of his father in a car accident. Brent was behind the wheel, you see, and he naturally blames himself. Good thing he has Holly, a supportive teen dream of a girlfriend, who he's taking to the end of school dance. And therein the problem lies, because Brent has a not so secret admirer, Lola, who isn't taking Brent's non-single status very well. It escalates to the point where she sends her father out to nab Brent and drag him back to her back country house of horrors. If Brent isn't going to be Lola's date willingly, then Lola and daddy dearest are perfectly willing to engage in some not so friendly methods of persuasion. Thanks to a plot-convenient injection, Brent can barely speak, let alone scream once the knives come out...
While this might make the proceedings sound like a gender-reversed take on torture porn, that label would cheapen what's really going on here. The damage dealt out (and boy, there is a lot of damage) is shown non-exploitatively but unflinchingly. This isn't a game of gore one-upmanship; director Sean Byrne plays for higher stakes. The plot takes its time, relieving the disturbing goings-on with subplots about Brent's mother and girlfriend searching for the lost boy and Brent's pudgy friend going to the dance with the town's hot Goth chick. The John Hughes hijinks of this particular subplot were initially offputting to me until the end, where a suckerpunch of emotional revelation made the plot's rhyme and reason clear as day. This is yet another quality horror film playing at this year's fest with incestuous undertones, though here it's more like big honking overtones, as Lola and her stoically destructive daddy are way too close for comfort. With mama given a hillbilly lobotomy, there's no stopping the pair from torturing teenage boys or slow dancing in an ecstatic and disturbing display of romanticism.
Brent may be our much-abused hero, but Lola is the real star. I foresee many an article being written in the next couple of years on Lola as the epitome of the monstrous female writ large. Lola prances around her prey like a demented, sex-starved dolly. Her sugar-sweet demeanor erupts into snarls and monstrosity as quickly as someone flicking a switch. The performance is one hundred percent fantastic. I expect some great things from newcomer Robin McLeavy in the future; if Lola is any indication, she's got future cult stardom within her grasp.
The best friend subplot ends abruptly and Holly and Brent's mom aren't given that much to do besides fretting prettily, but a few hiccups can't keep The Loved Ones from being a sick, slick little thrill ride. The last act soars, a mix of the usual climatic victim-fighting-back heroics and some gleefully shocking revelations about the depth of Lola's cruelty. With an assured directorial hand and a script that pulls no punches, Byrne reveals himself to be a talent to watch.
One last note - do not under any circumstances watch the recently released trailer. Just don't. You'll thank me later. It was a bit tough singling out particular moments when writing this review because I didn't want to give too much away. The most fiendish pleasures of The Loved Ones are best experienced without any hints beforehand, like a sudden plunge into an ice cold well. It's fun as hell, and I highly recommend it.
Review by Lauren Baggett
There have been some fantastic movies playing this year at the Fantasia festival that are just not catching a break. I saw We Are What We Are in a theater that was only around two-thirds full, the crowd at haunting documentary Into Eternity had plenty of room to stretch their legs, and now Australian wonder The Loved Ones bowed in front of an audience who had seats to spare. In such an immense space as the Hall Theater (700-plus seats!) this is still a pretty big achievement, and I know it's a bit much to expect the venue packed to the rafters each and every night. But there were some real gems this year, with fabulous pre-festival buzz, that just didn't get the attention at Fantasia that I was expecting.
Which is a complete and utter shame, because I think I just saw the most delightfully twisted horror film of the year.
The Loved Ones starts with a bang and barely lets up in its slim 84 minute running time. Protagonist Brent has recently metamorphosed into a morose death-metal teen with cutting issues after the death of his father in a car accident. Brent was behind the wheel, you see, and he naturally blames himself. Good thing he has Holly, a supportive teen dream of a girlfriend, who he's taking to the end of school dance. And therein the problem lies, because Brent has a not so secret admirer, Lola, who isn't taking Brent's non-single status very well. It escalates to the point where she sends her father out to nab Brent and drag him back to her back country house of horrors. If Brent isn't going to be Lola's date willingly, then Lola and daddy dearest are perfectly willing to engage in some not so friendly methods of persuasion. Thanks to a plot-convenient injection, Brent can barely speak, let alone scream once the knives come out...
While this might make the proceedings sound like a gender-reversed take on torture porn, that label would cheapen what's really going on here. The damage dealt out (and boy, there is a lot of damage) is shown non-exploitatively but unflinchingly. This isn't a game of gore one-upmanship; director Sean Byrne plays for higher stakes. The plot takes its time, relieving the disturbing goings-on with subplots about Brent's mother and girlfriend searching for the lost boy and Brent's pudgy friend going to the dance with the town's hot Goth chick. The John Hughes hijinks of this particular subplot were initially offputting to me until the end, where a suckerpunch of emotional revelation made the plot's rhyme and reason clear as day. This is yet another quality horror film playing at this year's fest with incestuous undertones, though here it's more like big honking overtones, as Lola and her stoically destructive daddy are way too close for comfort. With mama given a hillbilly lobotomy, there's no stopping the pair from torturing teenage boys or slow dancing in an ecstatic and disturbing display of romanticism.
Brent may be our much-abused hero, but Lola is the real star. I foresee many an article being written in the next couple of years on Lola as the epitome of the monstrous female writ large. Lola prances around her prey like a demented, sex-starved dolly. Her sugar-sweet demeanor erupts into snarls and monstrosity as quickly as someone flicking a switch. The performance is one hundred percent fantastic. I expect some great things from newcomer Robin McLeavy in the future; if Lola is any indication, she's got future cult stardom within her grasp.
The best friend subplot ends abruptly and Holly and Brent's mom aren't given that much to do besides fretting prettily, but a few hiccups can't keep The Loved Ones from being a sick, slick little thrill ride. The last act soars, a mix of the usual climatic victim-fighting-back heroics and some gleefully shocking revelations about the depth of Lola's cruelty. With an assured directorial hand and a script that pulls no punches, Byrne reveals himself to be a talent to watch.
One last note - do not under any circumstances watch the recently released trailer. Just don't. You'll thank me later. It was a bit tough singling out particular moments when writing this review because I didn't want to give too much away. The most fiendish pleasures of The Loved Ones are best experienced without any hints beforehand, like a sudden plunge into an ice cold well. It's fun as hell, and I highly recommend it.
Review by Lauren Baggett
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