By Chlotrudis Independent Film Society
Rating: 4 cats
Director: Thibault Emin
Starring: Edith Proust | Lika Minamoto | Matthieu Sampeur
Year: 2024
Running time: 100
IMDB: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt32973202/reference/
Brett says: “From director Thibault Emin, ELSE is a rather strange entry into the body horror genre, even for a genre that is usually rife with weirdness as is. The narrative begins a bit conventionally at first as a couple—Anx and Cass—meet up for casual physical thrills at Anx’s apartment located in the middle portion of a high rise complex, and unlikely connections start to form. The playful nature and eccentric personality of Cass is enough to capture interest at first while an ominous outside threat begins to gain momentum as the film advances. The setting takes place in a unique sort of pandemic or epidemic in which people are being swallowed or merged with their surroundings if exposed. Residents are ordered to not leave their homes for fear of speeding up this threat. Sound familiar? As the central conflict of the film starts to develop and adds a hefty share of confusion to the mix due to its peculiar nature, this conventional romance that starts the film is actually key to the understanding of the film in general, though it is quite understated.
“A unique filming style proves captivating as the location of the film is almost entirely set within the apartment that Anx lives in. The angles and unique visual language of the film provide a delightful feast for the eyes as the strangeness progresses past the initial establishment of Anx and Cass as a duo. The garbage chute adjacent to Anx’s apartment is a unique space all its own as well, as faceless communication is depicted through various shots of Anx and Cass speaking into ‘the void,’ which adds its own sinister feel to the film. With that comes a top shelf sound design that heightens every emotional tug sought after by director Thibault Emin.
“The outside force that begins to wreak havoc puts them in a precarious situation when Cass takes it upon herself to randomly show up at Anx’s apartment despite quarantine mandates, putting personal connections above the demand to halt those connections in the wake of a life-threatening … virus? … venomous furniture-based contagion? … porous cement globule attack? THE BLOB is perhaps the closest cinematic cousin to describe the infectious threat. Physical surroundings eventually start to ‘consume’ residents of the complex, and the odd mixture of contents that result seep, leak, and spread begin to find their way eventually to Anx’s apartment as well. As much as one wants to imagine the conventional attacks of ‘the blob’ from film history, this is a much more elevated and almost esoteric depiction. Not to mention, the degree of discomfort in the nature of these absorptions is especially discomforting to witness, even though the after-effects are mostly the source of this discomfort and attacks in progress are not typically the focus. Clearly important to the science of the spread is that victim’s eyes are still looming despite being gobbled up by … a chest of drawers? … a china cabinet? … a kitchen sink?, like some sort of dystopian medusa, and that’s where the real threat lies. Don’t look at the eye! There must be some sort of higher meaning to that, yes?
“Yes.
“For fans of visual language, Emin frolics between film mediums from lower definition to higher definition. The plot eventually moves in a discontinuous fashion, which is another eerie effect on the viewer that is included with that number of unseen characters that are also part of the film as described earlier. This visual language is where the point of the film lies, though what that point is may not be so obvious as viewers traverse numerous otherworldly transitions and surreal landscape transformations. What seems like a garden variety hookup sequence to begin the film evolves; that is, it creeps up on the viewer unexpectedly, much like the foreboding external threat itself. And so goes the evolution of the threat: a threat where boundaries are not definitive or rigid and one aspect melds into another. Although we perceive ourselves as fundamentally different and our own person, just as we might see an entertainment center across the room from us as a completely different compositional entity, there is a John Donne-esque metaphysical connectivity to it where one interaction makes us forever a piece of someone or something else. After all, ‘no man is an island.’ It’s a bit thick at times, but if one can maneuver through the blob therein, there might be something here worth attempting to muck through.
“4 CATS OUT OF 5
“Recommended for fans of sublime horror or sublime thrillers
“Recommended for fans of experimental or fragmented visual storytelling
“Not recommended if you’ve ever said “too weird for me” about anything in your whole life.
“Not recommended for viewers usually appalled or turned off by any type of body horror, though this is not exactly on the extreme end of that genre spectrum.”