Director: Pascal Laugier (2008)
Starring: Mylene Jampanoi, Morjana Alaoui
There’s one scene in Eli Roth’s torture-turd Hostel, where a genuine chill strikes every time. As Paxton is tricked into entering the dilapidated basement, he is dragged off by a pair of burly henchmen. Pulled kicking and screaming down the corridor, he – and the audience – realise just what awaits him. It’s a chilling moment. Paxton is slapped around the face with his own helplessness and mortality, and it strikes a chord in the audience too. It’s a universal fear. Pascal Laugier’s Martyrs takes that moment and drags it out for 99 minutes.
Martyrs starts off bleak
ly and never lets up. A young child escapes from a dingy basement and runs, screaming, down the street in her underwear. Once safe and sound in a kiddies’ hospital, she makes a bond with fellow abuse victim Anna, but refuses to talk about what happened to her in that basement. At night, she suffers from horrendous visions of a black-haired dead zombie girl type (think The Ring or The Grudge, except actually scary).
Fast-forward a few years, and the girls are now roughly eighteen years old apiece. Torture victim Lucie (Mylene Jampanoi) bursts into a bourgeois family home, waving a shotgun about. Lots of gory mess occurs, and it’s up to Anna (Morjana Alaoui) to clear things up.
It’s difficult to discuss Martyrs without ruining the plot. Like Takashi Miike’s Audition, this is a film that needs to be seen with a pre-spoiled mind. The first half plays out like an intense, visceral home invasion movie (think Haute Tension or a less po-faced version of Funny Games) with a few weird supernatural elements thrown in for good measure. This first half of the movie is a masterclass in storytelling and tension. At several points, you’l
l wonder where Laugier can possibly go next – surely the story’s got nowhere else to go? But each and every time he pulls it off, freeing yet another unpredictable shock or twist from his bag (admittedly, you could also interpret this as a form of scriptwriting ADHD, which I wouldn't entirely argue with... but Laugier makes it work).
And then, at around the hour mark, the story changes completely. It’s left-field and shockingly cruel and, ultimately, it will either engross or alienate the audience. I, for one, respect Laugier for what he tried to do here, but feel that the (much slower paced) second half lets the film down somewhat. It’s intelligent and existential, and (just about) fits with everything that has gone before, but it just felt a tad too ‘familiar’ for this jaded horrorhead. It’s dragged out for a step or two too long (which was probably the point) and then other things happen, which are far too juicy to spoil here. They deserve seeing firsthand. Although once seen, well, you may never be able to peel a grape again.
As Martyrs ends – with a pitch-perfect flashback to the two girls playing as children running over the credits – one will probably feel like curling up into a little ball and crying. It’s heartbreaking stuff and fuck I think I need a shower just thinking about it
That’s a lot of hyperbole there, but Martyrs genuinely is that good. There’s emotion where Hostel brought us titillation. There’s intelligent debate where Funny Games gave us a lecture. There’s a good film where otherwise Captivity took a dump on the lens and called it ‘art’.
Just don’t ask me to bloody watch it again.
Martyrs starts off bleak
ly and never lets up. A young child escapes from a dingy basement and runs, screaming, down the street in her underwear. Once safe and sound in a kiddies’ hospital, she makes a bond with fellow abuse victim Anna, but refuses to talk about what happened to her in that basement. At night, she suffers from horrendous visions of a black-haired dead zombie girl type (think The Ring or The Grudge, except actually scary).Fast-forward a few years, and the girls are now roughly eighteen years old apiece. Torture victim Lucie (Mylene Jampanoi) bursts into a bourgeois family home, waving a shotgun about. Lots of gory mess occurs, and it’s up to Anna (Morjana Alaoui) to clear things up.
It’s difficult to discuss Martyrs without ruining the plot. Like Takashi Miike’s Audition, this is a film that needs to be seen with a pre-spoiled mind. The first half plays out like an intense, visceral home invasion movie (think Haute Tension or a less po-faced version of Funny Games) with a few weird supernatural elements thrown in for good measure. This first half of the movie is a masterclass in storytelling and tension. At several points, you’l
l wonder where Laugier can possibly go next – surely the story’s got nowhere else to go? But each and every time he pulls it off, freeing yet another unpredictable shock or twist from his bag (admittedly, you could also interpret this as a form of scriptwriting ADHD, which I wouldn't entirely argue with... but Laugier makes it work).And then, at around the hour mark, the story changes completely. It’s left-field and shockingly cruel and, ultimately, it will either engross or alienate the audience. I, for one, respect Laugier for what he tried to do here, but feel that the (much slower paced) second half lets the film down somewhat. It’s intelligent and existential, and (just about) fits with everything that has gone before, but it just felt a tad too ‘familiar’ for this jaded horrorhead. It’s dragged out for a step or two too long (which was probably the point) and then other things happen, which are far too juicy to spoil here. They deserve seeing firsthand. Although once seen, well, you may never be able to peel a grape again.
As Martyrs ends – with a pitch-perfect flashback to the two girls playing as children running over the credits – one will probably feel like curling up into a little ball and crying. It’s heartbreaking stuff and fuck I think I need a shower just thinking about it
That’s a lot of hyperbole there, but Martyrs genuinely is that good. There’s emotion where Hostel brought us titillation. There’s intelligent debate where Funny Games gave us a lecture. There’s a good film where otherwise Captivity took a dump on the lens and called it ‘art’.
Just don’t ask me to bloody watch it again.
