TIFF Report: A Hole In My Heart, Creep Reviews
I started my day off today by getting up far too early and pretty much collapsing, thanks mostly to the fact that I'd had no more than four hours sleep a night since Sunday and was pretty much entirely exhausted. So I cancelled my volunteer shift, crawled back into bed and slept well into the afternoon. Feeling perky and refreshed I caught two wildly different films back to back: Lukas Moodyson's intense A Hole In My Heart and Christopher Smith's Creep.
Though I knew Moodyson by reputation A Hole In My Heart is the first of his films that I've actually seen and it impressed me enough that I'll most likely be seeking out his earlier work. Shot in very nearly Dogme style in natural locations with hand held cameras - the use of occasional artificial lighting, external music and some digital manipulation are all that disqualify it as a Dogme film - A Hole In My Heart is a difficult, troubling film and very, very powerful.
The story revolves around Eric, a reclusive teenager with a deformed hand who rarely leaves his room, and his father Rickard. Rickard is an amateur pornographer who is shooting his latest work, starring his friend Geko and newcomer Tess, in their tiny apartment's living room while Eric tries to block it all out behind his closed door and stereo headphones pumping experimental industrial / dark ambient music.
A Hole In My Heart is explicit in its content, explicit enough to virtually guarantee it will never be seen outside of the festival circuit in the US, but it never attempts to galmorize or pretty up its subject matter. The porn shoots are squalid and depressing with Moodyson posing the question of what sort of people would live like this and why. The answers come scattered throughout the film, largely as the characters relate dreams and stories directly to the camera. Rickard talks about his entire life is marked by loss; Geko rages against his mother and dreams of UFOs; Tess has engaged in a shockingly long list of surgical enhancements, some of which are very graphically displayed on camera. Ultimately 'these' sort of people turn out to be people exactly like us, people you would meet anywhere on the street. As Rickard says at one point - and I'm paraphrasing here - "Some people call what we do immoral and sick. Well, if that's true then the whole world is sick because we're only giving them what they want." This is not a case of Moodyson dodging the question, or passing the buck. Rather it seems to be a very straightforward description of the world as he sees it. The images he puts on screen are difficult to see but he wants us to see them because ultimately in them we see the parts of ourselves that we tuck out of site.
This leaves the question of why, a question answered very early on by Eric. He tells a unusual creation story, one in which the first man has two heads, four legs and four arms. This primal man is happy with himself, he feels complete and whole. Then, one day, he is struck by lightning and split in two. Ever since then man has felt empty and lost and has been doomed to spend his days wandering the earth looking for his other half, the thing that will complete him. Moodyson's characters are all keenly aware of this spiritual hole in themselves and are busily trying to stuff whatever they can down into it in a desperate attempt to plug it up, or at least distract themselves from it in the process. It's a difficult film, certainly not one you'd want to watch for a bit of light entertainment, but excellent.
Smith's Creep is an entirely different animal, an unrepentant genre film that locks Franka Potente within London's Underground where she is hunted by a psychopath. I've seen some mixed reviews on this film and while I understand them I have to disagree. With a film like Creep you have to take what it wants to give you. Yes, some of the dialogue is cliche and a few of the characters are fairly stock types that we've seen over and over again before. But where some people have pointed to that as a weakness I think here it's actually a strength.
Creep's not about high art, it's about entertainment and what makes it entertaining here is often the fact that you do know what's coming. Those moments where Smith telegraphs exactly what is due next and then executes the moment perfectly are what make the film work so well. As was also the case last year with Juon - another film that tells you exactly what's coming and then delivers in spades - the foreknowledge actually ups the anticipation and supplies a little extra kick when the payoff comes. When you see a major character standing in front of an open window you know what's coming - the whole audience knew what was coming and immediately burst out laughing at his immense stupidity - and when he bends down to give you the reveal shot of the villain standing behind him you get both the shock effect and the gloating satisfaction of being correct. And when Smith then goes one step further and subverts those expectations, well, that's just a little something else to enjoy.
Shot largely on location in the miles of abandoned tunnels beneath London, Creep is beautifully shot - if claustrophobia can be beautiful - and very well executed. Definitely b-movie fare, but good b-movie fare.
