*Spoilers ahead*
If you are after a feel-good movie, one that will increase your serotonin levels and leave you with optimism by the film's end, then I'd question why you picked up a movie titled "Victims."
Chris Abell's drama-filled thriller explores several aspects of the human mind. It makes one question where boundaries are drawn and when they should be crossed, complimented by the cinematography, music and stand out performances. So, you may need to postpone your feel-good movie date and delve into the calamitous thriller that Abell has created.
The film follows the title in every sense of the word, and that is no more apparent in the film's opening scene. Instead, we are quickly introduced to the film's sombre mood, witnessing atrocities played out from the very beginning, perfectly encapsulated by the dark and morbid Julian Richings, speaking to us through a lens of darkness and setting the mood for the following hour and forty-five minutes.
By the opening scene's conclusion, we seem to play catch up, attempting to pick up the pieces and aimlessly placing them together as we are formally introduced to our main characters, Lindsay (Katharine Isabelle) and Spencer (Christian Campbell).
With their introductions, we are able to place our first part of the puzzle in place as we identify both characters from the opening scene. Lindsay is every sense of the word that the title suggests, a victim, not only by her abuser - but as we place that second piece in place - her husband as well.
Chained and bloody, we slowly visit the couple's past through Lindsay, discovering that there was a life before the time in question, a time with a child and purpose - evidentially, exposing Spencer's insecurities well before the film's events.
As we haphazardly begin to piece the puzzle together, the question lingers of who the real antagonist is within this story, as the film wastes no time digging into morally questionable acts. Our two traditional antagonists, Riley (Sebastian Pigott) and Gatling (Julian Richings), are depicted as monsters, chained up and bloody at the mercy of Spencer. And as the audience, the first question is posed: would I react the same? Is this justifiable? All reasonable questions to ask, but it makes it all that much harder to relate to a twisted man in Spencer, a tattered husband who has his wife chained and battered, all in the name of vengeance.
Abell positions the audience in a challenging situation as we seek justice but find ourselves rooting for a man who has clearly lost his mind. The introduction of Gatling and Riley is positioned at the right time, as we are further confused by Riley's denial of ever remembering playing out the unspeakable acts he performed. In contrast, Julian Richings' performance is the polar opposite, owning his actions and somewhat trying to convince Spencer and the audience that the world is a bad place and humans are bound to follow suit.
The firepit scene is powerful, and Richings performance - although a mere couple of minutes - stands out above the rest, asking the question of whether two wrongs make a right. His ultimate demise in an open fire is symbolic, spine chilling as we sense no other emotion other than anger.
Furthermore, Spencer's motives are questionable as we ask why anyone would torture the person they love, exploring a notion that seems taboo but is rife within many households. Moreover, the attempted sex scene epitomises the fragility of marriage and abuse that fractures many relationships.
Abell plays with various emotions as we witness Lindsay turn to her abuser in a case of Stockholm Syndrome-the lesser of two evils in her mind. Pigott's portrayal of a rapist attempting to redeem himself, somewhat convincing of his innocence, would fool the most gullible. Still, Abell leads you without holding your hand in its entirety, laying out a foundation for viewers to draw up their own conclusions. A welcomed tactic but, unfortunately, an obvious path that was hard to miss.
Pigott's performance is raw and convincing as a man confused and scared. His performance draws Lindsay and the viewer in, and it is commendable, but it came as no surprise that Riley's real intentions were sinister.
The standout performance was, of course, Isabelle's, as she depicts a broken mother and wife, suffering at the hands of many. Her range between emotions is believable and relatable as she cuts through glass with her emotive facial expressions that don't require speech to convey the mood. We root for her and empathise with her, but we believe in her most of all.
Campbell's portrayal of a man unhinged is accurate and times eerie; a bittersweet character if you may. A sweet to the sour, Campbell can't help but come across as mad, infuriated and lost. But it is hard not to relate to his character in some sense. Again, a tactic Abell conducts with precision throughout the film; he places you in a morally questionable situation and lays out scenarios that we honestly could not say we would do any different.
The actors' performances are complemented by the score and cinematography, highlighting the mood with lighting-or lack of - and dark long played out strings that add to the film's suspense - the opening scene optimises the two in every sense.
As the film's title is no coincidence, it is a mere deliberate ploy, exploring how one event can affect people differently. Abell explores the victim in the traditional sense in Lindsay but also explores the idea that one can be a victim even if you have the cruellest intentions. The film's closing moments are powerful and heart wrenching and pull at a few heartstrings without going overboard. All the while, the film's premise rings true throughout and focuses on the fragility of people - especially in a bond of marriage.
Furthermore, Abell tells a story of the grief and pain of a broken marriage through unfortunate events. The cast-although not flawless - pays Abell's vision justice, portraying their characters in believable and somewhat eerie depictions. Although there were times when the acting was relatively stagnant and cliched, and some scene transitions were abrupt, the overall experience was pleasant, albeit setting.
Overall, each aspect of the film seemed to complement each other, and there was not a point in the film where it dropped off to the point it lost one's attention. It is a welcomed take on love and marriage in the worst of situations as the film feels like a large puzzle, slowly piecing itself together from the borders moving inward. It is not for the faint-hearted, but that, within itself, makes the film stand out and worth watching. Ultimately, it makes one question their morals and makes one wonder if the world is indeed not meant for the weak.
If you are after a feel-good movie, one that will increase your serotonin levels and leave you with optimism by the film's end, then I'd question why you picked up a movie titled "Victims."
Chris Abell's drama-filled thriller explores several aspects of the human mind. It makes one question where boundaries are drawn and when they should be crossed, complimented by the cinematography, music and stand out performances. So, you may need to postpone your feel-good movie date and delve into the calamitous thriller that Abell has created.
The film follows the title in every sense of the word, and that is no more apparent in the film's opening scene. Instead, we are quickly introduced to the film's sombre mood, witnessing atrocities played out from the very beginning, perfectly encapsulated by the dark and morbid Julian Richings, speaking to us through a lens of darkness and setting the mood for the following hour and forty-five minutes.
By the opening scene's conclusion, we seem to play catch up, attempting to pick up the pieces and aimlessly placing them together as we are formally introduced to our main characters, Lindsay (Katharine Isabelle) and Spencer (Christian Campbell).
With their introductions, we are able to place our first part of the puzzle in place as we identify both characters from the opening scene. Lindsay is every sense of the word that the title suggests, a victim, not only by her abuser - but as we place that second piece in place - her husband as well.
Chained and bloody, we slowly visit the couple's past through Lindsay, discovering that there was a life before the time in question, a time with a child and purpose - evidentially, exposing Spencer's insecurities well before the film's events.
As we haphazardly begin to piece the puzzle together, the question lingers of who the real antagonist is within this story, as the film wastes no time digging into morally questionable acts. Our two traditional antagonists, Riley (Sebastian Pigott) and Gatling (Julian Richings), are depicted as monsters, chained up and bloody at the mercy of Spencer. And as the audience, the first question is posed: would I react the same? Is this justifiable? All reasonable questions to ask, but it makes it all that much harder to relate to a twisted man in Spencer, a tattered husband who has his wife chained and battered, all in the name of vengeance.
Abell positions the audience in a challenging situation as we seek justice but find ourselves rooting for a man who has clearly lost his mind. The introduction of Gatling and Riley is positioned at the right time, as we are further confused by Riley's denial of ever remembering playing out the unspeakable acts he performed. In contrast, Julian Richings' performance is the polar opposite, owning his actions and somewhat trying to convince Spencer and the audience that the world is a bad place and humans are bound to follow suit.
The firepit scene is powerful, and Richings performance - although a mere couple of minutes - stands out above the rest, asking the question of whether two wrongs make a right. His ultimate demise in an open fire is symbolic, spine chilling as we sense no other emotion other than anger.
Furthermore, Spencer's motives are questionable as we ask why anyone would torture the person they love, exploring a notion that seems taboo but is rife within many households. Moreover, the attempted sex scene epitomises the fragility of marriage and abuse that fractures many relationships.
Abell plays with various emotions as we witness Lindsay turn to her abuser in a case of Stockholm Syndrome-the lesser of two evils in her mind. Pigott's portrayal of a rapist attempting to redeem himself, somewhat convincing of his innocence, would fool the most gullible. Still, Abell leads you without holding your hand in its entirety, laying out a foundation for viewers to draw up their own conclusions. A welcomed tactic but, unfortunately, an obvious path that was hard to miss.
Pigott's performance is raw and convincing as a man confused and scared. His performance draws Lindsay and the viewer in, and it is commendable, but it came as no surprise that Riley's real intentions were sinister.
The standout performance was, of course, Isabelle's, as she depicts a broken mother and wife, suffering at the hands of many. Her range between emotions is believable and relatable as she cuts through glass with her emotive facial expressions that don't require speech to convey the mood. We root for her and empathise with her, but we believe in her most of all.
Campbell's portrayal of a man unhinged is accurate and times eerie; a bittersweet character if you may. A sweet to the sour, Campbell can't help but come across as mad, infuriated and lost. But it is hard not to relate to his character in some sense. Again, a tactic Abell conducts with precision throughout the film; he places you in a morally questionable situation and lays out scenarios that we honestly could not say we would do any different.
The actors' performances are complemented by the score and cinematography, highlighting the mood with lighting-or lack of - and dark long played out strings that add to the film's suspense - the opening scene optimises the two in every sense.
As the film's title is no coincidence, it is a mere deliberate ploy, exploring how one event can affect people differently. Abell explores the victim in the traditional sense in Lindsay but also explores the idea that one can be a victim even if you have the cruellest intentions. The film's closing moments are powerful and heart wrenching and pull at a few heartstrings without going overboard. All the while, the film's premise rings true throughout and focuses on the fragility of people - especially in a bond of marriage.
Furthermore, Abell tells a story of the grief and pain of a broken marriage through unfortunate events. The cast-although not flawless - pays Abell's vision justice, portraying their characters in believable and somewhat eerie depictions. Although there were times when the acting was relatively stagnant and cliched, and some scene transitions were abrupt, the overall experience was pleasant, albeit setting.
Overall, each aspect of the film seemed to complement each other, and there was not a point in the film where it dropped off to the point it lost one's attention. It is a welcomed take on love and marriage in the worst of situations as the film feels like a large puzzle, slowly piecing itself together from the borders moving inward. It is not for the faint-hearted, but that, within itself, makes the film stand out and worth watching. Ultimately, it makes one question their morals and makes one wonder if the world is indeed not meant for the weak.