‘Breathing In’ Brooklyn Horror Fest 2023 Review: Claustrophobic But Uneven
Chad Collins
|
Back in 2021, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Jaco Bouwer’s Gaia. I thought the folkloric eco-horror yielded promise, though Gaia was too overstuffed and too inconsistent in its genre demands, to resonate as strongly as I’d hoped. Making its world premiere at this year’s Brooklyn Horror Film Festival is Bouwer’s follow-up, Breathing In, another somber chamber piece that works better than Gaia while simultaneously highlighting the recurring weaknesses in Bouwer’s approach to genre material. In this case, that material is a beloved South African play.
As the cycle of genre unfurls and the vagaries become clear, it’s easier in retrospect to identify the driving demands of horror filmmakers old and new alike. Recently, there’s been a push toward strangeness, a single frame that defies logic and comprehension. The best horror filmmakers—Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Ari Aster (yes, really)—ground the unusual, the shocking, bewildering stills into something of a collective whole. They are motivated and meaningful, puzzling forays that still matter.
Also Read: ‘UFO Sweden’ Fantastic Fest 2023 Review: A Visually Stunning Tale of Found Family
It’s 1901, and as the Second Anglo-Boer War unfolds, Anna (Jamie-Lee Money) and Annie (Michele Burgers) are housebound with a wounded general (Lionel Newton), whom the audience might at first presume is dead. It’s dialogue-heavy, firmly within the constraints of chamber horror. Earlier this year, Ted Geoghegan’s stunningly accomplished Brooklyn 45 demonstrated there was still subversive life left in claustrophobic, theatrical horror. Here, Bouwer lets the mystery do all the work for him. Stunning vistas and a discordant soundtrack are conspicuous ploys to distract not just from how little is happening, but also from Bouwer’s confidence in what it all means.
Ambiguity can augment scares in the right hands. Jennifer Kent’s The Babadook, while certainly more commercial, effectively used uncertainty to generate tension. With Breathing In, Bouwer’s capable cast has no end game, speaking in muted whispers interspersed with striking, though ultimately shallow, beats of carriages riding across arid landscapes, glow-eyed creatures emerging from the darkness.
The arrival of Sven Ruygrok’s solider, inciting Breathing In’s narrative, is purely expositional. His inclusion is simply that of a sounding board, an opportunity for Annie to cryptically acknowledge that the daylight hurts her or that, perhaps more compellingly, Anne keeps her awake for fear that if she falls asleep, she might never wake up.
Also Read: ‘Vincent Must Die’ London Film Festival 2023 Review: The Kind Of Horror-Comedy We Need Right Now
Breathing In is a movie of incantations, where characters talk in dangerous spells, threatening to cast one of their own over the audience. Motivation is hidden and whispers wrapped in surreal imagery strike a nerve, even if it amounts to imagery for imagery’s sake. The outer limits of historical context, namely the operation of British concentration camps that claimed over 48,000 lives, is heartrending, though too often excised from the events on screen.
Bouwer isn’t exactly out of his element, and at times, the thrust of what Breathing In should be emerges from the gothic fog. Sinister writing (Bouwer also wrote the script) and chilling performances engage, even if collectively, Breathing In feels like exactly that—a performance. This was a story worth telling, though perhaps not in this way. Audiences in search of mystical, somber terror might feel differently, though Breathing In never risks its audience needing to catch their breath. Not even once.
-
Breathing In
Summary
Jaco Bouwer’s Breathing In is a somber, evocative supernatural chamber piece with lots to show, little to say.
Categorized:Reviews
