The work of Bristol sound co-founder Geoff Barrow, this scabrous if slight debut feature casts a critical gaze on 90s rave culture. Self-serving pillhead David (Marc Bessant) first robs an passed-out supplier, then in a later recollection tries to burgle his own parents. In no time, he's overturned in the remains of his car in a woodland – and subject to the wrathful eye of the Poacher (vocalist Jason Williamson). Declining to free David, with no time for townies, he is broken Britain personified: “You’re one of those loud individuals from up on the heath.”
Unsteady Opening and Grimly Amusing Duel
Game gets off to a shaky start, spending too long on pedantically chronicling David’s attempt to free himself from his seatbelt, while clumsily segueing into past scenes of his normal activities. The bigger point – that the ecstasy generation were mainly focused on number one – is clearly conveyed. But these vignettes are too thin to adequately prepare us for what to expect when the Woodsman turns up, fuming after David strangles his dog. Still, a darkly funny standoff unfolds – David eager to get away; the Woodsman withholding his jerrycan of cider, intent on soaking him instead in resentful talk. Williamson, projecting ponderous menace in the role, is reminiscent of Michael Smiley.
Stylish Imagery and Music Video Vibe
Just a single key story turn, but it results in a hilariously staged chaotic run on the woodland paths that dips close to folk horror. Director John Minton finally gets to go all in with his ostentatious visuals: where he was hunkered down doing impressionistic closeups of bugs in headlights in the early stages, he now lets rip with the full psychedelic grand display, soundtracked to a wild organ version of Ravel’s Boléro. The movie resembles an extended promo than a fully fledged drama, but there’s enough bold visuals to suggest that Minton could emulate Jonathan Glazer, Garth Jennings and others into successfully graduating from the UK video industry.
The film is in UK and Irish cinemas from 17 November.
