Revenge, 2018.
Written and Directed by Coralie Fargeat.
Starring Matilda Lutz, Kevin Janssens, Vincent Colombe, and Guillaume Bouchède.
SYNOPSIS:
Never take your mistress on an annual guys’ getaway, especially one devoted to hunting – a violent lesson for three wealthy married men.
The comically but altogether disgustingly unrealistic amounts of blood dripping from characters both male and female, soaked into the walls of a remote mountainous getaway vacation home and the vast desert landscapes that occupy the surroundings, are absolutely sure to be a major talking point for Revenge (the feature-length debut from French writer and director Coralie Fargeat), but this is rape vengeance with an artistically minded cinematic mean streak. Upon being introduced to Richard (Kevin Janssens) and his mistress Jen (Matilda Lutz delivering a breakout performance that sees her go from vulnerable blonde bombshell to hardened survivor overcoming extreme physical abuse and gruesome injury to dish out justice) the audience is subjected to viewing the pair frequently without much clothing.
This is, of course, an inviting sight to both men and women, but specifically focusing on Jen, there is something to be said about the juxtaposition from objectification to the later stages of the experience where she is still in a state of undress but wielding firearms on a mission of cold-blooded murder. Going one step further, Revenge actually ends in a cat and mouse style shootout depicting Richard fully nude; we’re at our most vulnerable naked. In the case of Jen, while there is still room to be concerned over her safety, the images of her scantily clad but now able to defend herself is another strong contrast. To be fair, French films are typically unafraid to be sexually provocative, but this results in what is likely the most thinking I’ve ever done observing how clothing, or lack of clothing, could be used as a stimulating visual storytelling device.
Abstract thoughts aside, Revenge is a shockingly violent production (so much that the crew apparently occasionally ran out of fake blood) where a hunting trip up in the mountains goes disastrously wrong. Richard’s pals unexpectedly arrived early in time to accidentally meet Jen (who he is cheating on his wife seemingly bored of the relationship judgment from his engagement levels on the topics of household decorations), and it isn’t long before one of the chauvinistic creepers loses all self-control and commits the most heinous act, someone can do to another human being, sexual assault. Richard is temporarily away on business during this incident, while the other friend’s solution is to look the other way by turning up the television volume all the way to drown out the suffering. Rather than console Jen and turn on his reprehensible buddies, Richard and company decide to leave her for dead.
Shame on any critic that actually explains in detail how this happens, so let’s just say that Revenge requires suspension of disbelief; it treats the wounds seriously which may come off as a bit tonally inconsistent. The body horror on display is certainly rough to look at and something to be admired considering how impressive and detailed the prosthetics and makeup look, but some of the abuse here is too much to accept with people walking around somewhat unbothered. As a result, there are times where the bandaging up process feels as if it needs to be sped up; Revenge works best, and amazingly I should add, when it is laser focused on the definition of that word.
The cinematography is another highlight as it has the tendency to zoom in on some rather hideous images, not at all related to brutality. Revenge appears to be fixated on spotlighting rude male behavior, such as with an ugly shot of food crunching up and down the teeth of an onlooker to rape. In general, the film is heavily stylized, whether it be through eerie shots of local insects or the effects of a hallucinogenic drug that is both dangerous and meant to give Jen a little extra kick to keep pushing on with enacting her vengeance. A synthetic score also adds to that energy boost.
Still, none of that compares to the revelatory turn from Matilda Lutz; by the end of Revenge, every detail of her character transformation is palpable, which is an extraordinary feat coming from a gross-out horror flick equally interested in creative ways to utilize obscene amounts of blood. The closing moments are bound to be some of the most intense all year. Coralie Faregeat’s debut is a primal display of female empowerment and revenge that is sure to somewhere have even Quentin Tarantino and Uma Thurman erupting in applause.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, friend me on Facebook, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, check out my personal non-Flickering Myth affiliated Patreon, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
