If you browse the IMDb trivia for Coralie Fargeat's Revenge, you'll find a tidbit noting that the prop team ran out of fake blood during production, thanks to the sheer volume of gore necessary for the film. When I read that before I pressed play (the film is available on VOD now), it sounded like brilliant hyperbole designed to entice blood-thirsty audiences. But after watching Fargeat's stunner of a feature debut, I have no doubt that blood was in short supply on this set. A spectacularly violent, masterfully directed thriller, Revenge is one of the finest, most relentlessly intense genre films I've seen in 2018. With such a direct, straight-forward title, one would either expect a rote retread or a bold and subversive take on the genre. Fargeat's film falls firmly into the latter category, turning a disturbing, stomach-churning story into a crowd-pleasing feminist tale of extreme violence and cathartic brutality. While the film's more vicious moments are sure to turn off a large chunk of audience members, those with the stomach for it will likely find something of a minor masterpiece.
The setup could not be more simple. Jen (Matilda Lutz, a breakout star if I've ever seen one), a young woman with California dreams, takes a trip to an isolated desert mansion with Richard (Kevin Janssens), her married boyfriend. The two seem to have a fine relationship, even if the sleaziness of an affair initially raises eyebrows. But things turn sour when Richard's friends, Stan and Dimitri (Vincent Colombe and Guillaume Bouchede, respectively), arrive at the desert estate for their annual hunting trip a few days early, startling Jen and upsetting Richard. The tension is initially kept to a minimum, but Stan's creepy attraction to Jen becomes noticeable. She tries to move away and keep her distance, but Stan rapes her, committing a heinous act of sexual violence while Dimitri just looks the other way. When Richard returns, he responds not by attacking Stan, but by offering to send Jen far away in order for her to stay silent.
Jen runs, the men follow, and then Richard pushes her off a cliff. Impaled on a tree and near death, it seems like there's no hope for Jen. But the young woman has quite a few tricks up her sleeve. She uses everything at her disposal to survive, hiding as Richard and his company pursue her to finish the job. Alone and stranded and utterly exhausted, Jen now has only one goal in mind- to find these men and kill them. And of course, it's no spoiler to say that she accomplishes the titular task in spectacular fashion, making them pay for what they did. Writer/director Fargeat has a good deal to say here, but this is an exploitation film through and through, finding its driving thrust in a narrative of astonishing violence. But it's exploitation with a purpose, a tale of feminist retribution that uses its grimy setting and bloody mayhem as a blunt tool to get its message across.
Fargeat demonstrates an incredible knack for creating cinematic carnage that is both harrowing and satisfying, disturbing and gorgeously crafted. The early scenes are particularly hard to stomach, as Fargeat depicts Jen's rape and impalement in excruciating detail. Even if the nature of Jen's survival is unrealistic, Fargeat glosses over nothing in her depiction of this horrifying endeavor. Every drop of blood, sweat, and tears is deeply felt in a way that indicates a filmmaker with extraordinary powers, able to create a visceral experience for the viewer. But even if some scenes essentially dare you to turn away, this is still an old-school revenge movie, and Fargeat knows how to deliver hugely entertaining violence. While the latter half of the film is an all-out spectacle of gory madness, the small, intimate nature of the story makes every shot, every bullet, and every kill feel incredibly personal. The sheer amount of blood may be hilariously excessive, but the violence shown towards the perpetrators of disgusting crimes is likely to make many audience members erupt into applause.
The character of Jen requires a kind of emotional and physical intensity that borders on outrageous, and it's remarkable that Matilda Lutz delivers in such a nuanced and powerful way. Working with Fargeat, Lutz's Jen undergoes a massive transformation as the story develops. When we first meet her, she's licking a lollipop and sitting in silence, with Fargeat clearly playing off the iconography of Lolita. In the first act, Fargeat's camera scans Jen's body like an object, rarely giving her the chance to speak or assert herself as a real, flesh-and-blood human being. Instead, she's the image of the stereotypical blonde, clad in an "I Love L.A." shirt and bright red earrings, flirting with Richard and the other men. Fargeat and Lutz limit Jen so much in the first act, making it all the more effective when she turns out to be one of the craftiest survivalists in recent film history. As audience members, we know this the whole time, because with the knowledge of the title and the basic nature of the story, we understand what lies ahead. But it's fun to watch Richard and the men become increasingly terrified as Jen unleashes her vengeance, surprising them at every moment.
Lutz has little dialogue as Jen, but the physicality of her performance is astonishing. Even as she hunts these vile baddies, she says virtually nothing, opting for steely, calm intensity at every turn. Part of me wishes Fargeat gave her a chance to verbalize her revenge, but it's simply unnecessary at a point. Dialogue is almost superfluous in Revenge, as Fargeat is in total command of the uncompromising visuals. If some of the symbolism is a little on the nose, the pure style of Fargeat's film more than makes up for it. With thundering techno music underscoring the action and the sunbaked cinematography of Robrecht Heyvaert setting the scene, Revenge moves at a relentless pace, so rich and flavorful and full of cinematic life. There's never a dull moment, and with such stunning control of composition and tone, I truly can't wait to see what Fargeat does moving forward.
If there's a real complaint to be found, it's the runtime. At 107 minutes, Revenge isn't as tight as it could be, which is almost a requirement of this kind of exploitation saga. Sure, the film is never dull or boring, but it loses some of its edge thanks to the drawn out approach. But in the grand scheme of things, this is a minor complaint. Revenge is a fabulous debut, announcing the arrival of a compelling cinematic presence in Lutz and an incredible directorial voice in Fargeat. Together, they've created one hell of a feminist revenge movie, one that is decidedly unsubtle but wholly thrilling. Invigorating and gripping and immensely satisfying, Revenge is destined to become a genre classic.
THE FINAL GRADE: A- (8.7/10)
Images: NEON/IMDb
The setup could not be more simple. Jen (Matilda Lutz, a breakout star if I've ever seen one), a young woman with California dreams, takes a trip to an isolated desert mansion with Richard (Kevin Janssens), her married boyfriend. The two seem to have a fine relationship, even if the sleaziness of an affair initially raises eyebrows. But things turn sour when Richard's friends, Stan and Dimitri (Vincent Colombe and Guillaume Bouchede, respectively), arrive at the desert estate for their annual hunting trip a few days early, startling Jen and upsetting Richard. The tension is initially kept to a minimum, but Stan's creepy attraction to Jen becomes noticeable. She tries to move away and keep her distance, but Stan rapes her, committing a heinous act of sexual violence while Dimitri just looks the other way. When Richard returns, he responds not by attacking Stan, but by offering to send Jen far away in order for her to stay silent.
Jen runs, the men follow, and then Richard pushes her off a cliff. Impaled on a tree and near death, it seems like there's no hope for Jen. But the young woman has quite a few tricks up her sleeve. She uses everything at her disposal to survive, hiding as Richard and his company pursue her to finish the job. Alone and stranded and utterly exhausted, Jen now has only one goal in mind- to find these men and kill them. And of course, it's no spoiler to say that she accomplishes the titular task in spectacular fashion, making them pay for what they did. Writer/director Fargeat has a good deal to say here, but this is an exploitation film through and through, finding its driving thrust in a narrative of astonishing violence. But it's exploitation with a purpose, a tale of feminist retribution that uses its grimy setting and bloody mayhem as a blunt tool to get its message across.
Fargeat demonstrates an incredible knack for creating cinematic carnage that is both harrowing and satisfying, disturbing and gorgeously crafted. The early scenes are particularly hard to stomach, as Fargeat depicts Jen's rape and impalement in excruciating detail. Even if the nature of Jen's survival is unrealistic, Fargeat glosses over nothing in her depiction of this horrifying endeavor. Every drop of blood, sweat, and tears is deeply felt in a way that indicates a filmmaker with extraordinary powers, able to create a visceral experience for the viewer. But even if some scenes essentially dare you to turn away, this is still an old-school revenge movie, and Fargeat knows how to deliver hugely entertaining violence. While the latter half of the film is an all-out spectacle of gory madness, the small, intimate nature of the story makes every shot, every bullet, and every kill feel incredibly personal. The sheer amount of blood may be hilariously excessive, but the violence shown towards the perpetrators of disgusting crimes is likely to make many audience members erupt into applause.
The character of Jen requires a kind of emotional and physical intensity that borders on outrageous, and it's remarkable that Matilda Lutz delivers in such a nuanced and powerful way. Working with Fargeat, Lutz's Jen undergoes a massive transformation as the story develops. When we first meet her, she's licking a lollipop and sitting in silence, with Fargeat clearly playing off the iconography of Lolita. In the first act, Fargeat's camera scans Jen's body like an object, rarely giving her the chance to speak or assert herself as a real, flesh-and-blood human being. Instead, she's the image of the stereotypical blonde, clad in an "I Love L.A." shirt and bright red earrings, flirting with Richard and the other men. Fargeat and Lutz limit Jen so much in the first act, making it all the more effective when she turns out to be one of the craftiest survivalists in recent film history. As audience members, we know this the whole time, because with the knowledge of the title and the basic nature of the story, we understand what lies ahead. But it's fun to watch Richard and the men become increasingly terrified as Jen unleashes her vengeance, surprising them at every moment.
Lutz has little dialogue as Jen, but the physicality of her performance is astonishing. Even as she hunts these vile baddies, she says virtually nothing, opting for steely, calm intensity at every turn. Part of me wishes Fargeat gave her a chance to verbalize her revenge, but it's simply unnecessary at a point. Dialogue is almost superfluous in Revenge, as Fargeat is in total command of the uncompromising visuals. If some of the symbolism is a little on the nose, the pure style of Fargeat's film more than makes up for it. With thundering techno music underscoring the action and the sunbaked cinematography of Robrecht Heyvaert setting the scene, Revenge moves at a relentless pace, so rich and flavorful and full of cinematic life. There's never a dull moment, and with such stunning control of composition and tone, I truly can't wait to see what Fargeat does moving forward.
If there's a real complaint to be found, it's the runtime. At 107 minutes, Revenge isn't as tight as it could be, which is almost a requirement of this kind of exploitation saga. Sure, the film is never dull or boring, but it loses some of its edge thanks to the drawn out approach. But in the grand scheme of things, this is a minor complaint. Revenge is a fabulous debut, announcing the arrival of a compelling cinematic presence in Lutz and an incredible directorial voice in Fargeat. Together, they've created one hell of a feminist revenge movie, one that is decidedly unsubtle but wholly thrilling. Invigorating and gripping and immensely satisfying, Revenge is destined to become a genre classic.
THE FINAL GRADE: A- (8.7/10)
Images: NEON/IMDb
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