Review of In The Company Of Men (1997)

“You know, if we were living in India your girl would be burned on a pyre for even thinking about what she did to you.”

This dialogue, spoken by Chad (Aaron Eckhart) to his colleague Howard (Matt Malloy), occurs about ten minutes into Neil Labute’s film “In The Company of Men”. Howard has just been jilted by his longterm lover, and feels sad and rejected. Chad, too, has had issues with women in his life lately, and is consoling him. This dialogue, on the surface, is sinister yet seems like the kind of thing men would say to one another in a quiet, private, shared moment.

But look closely, because it reveals clues to their characters which are at the core of this movie. It reveals their lack of respect for other cultures. It belies misogyny. And it is also Chad’s gambit, his attempt to bring Howard round to his scheme by which they emotionally cripple a woman for life, as revenge for the (supposed) evils that have been enacted on them.

As a gambit, it succeeds. This line, and many others spoken by Chad early on, wheedle Howard into submission, praying on his insecurities and reassuring him. Chad makes the fundamentally evil seem palatable, which is his greatest trick. Note how he tiptoes around what he is actually planning to do. It’s not “we are going to ruin this woman’s life for no real good reason”. It’s more “out comes the rug, and us pulling it hard”. Salesman tactics. Shop talk. Chad delivers his words like a pep talk, or perhaps even a sermon. Pitched as an attempt to restore dignity to Howard’s life.

It is fitting, of course, that Chad and Howard are corporate suits of the type found in American Psycho, which isn’t too far off being an adaptation of the themes Ellis was getting at, a couple of years before Mary Harron’s film came along. These are men living in a clean, sterile world. Their jobs don’t really matter, only that there are near-constant moments for dick-swinging and male bravado to take over- take the scene where Chad flicks through a company prospectus, pointing at the men and repeatedly saying “I hate that guy”. We get the impression that this world has created a culture of hostility; at one point a minor character, when asked why he hasn’t decided to date Christine, a deaf girl working in the company, his only response is “in a company like this, with these guys around?” We are firmly in a world where male bravado runs supreme.

Christine, played by Stacy Edwards, is the woman that the two men ultimately choose as their prey, so to speak, and the rest of the film details their attempts at unravelling her life, which is undermined only by their insecurity and their own, barely-formed feelings. As a screen presence, she’s perfect for this kind of material. She’s pretty, and endearing, and we sense her joy at the interest apparently being shown to her by these two men. The men, too, even concede that she’s a “nice” person, and in one awkward yet perfectly pitched scene Chad reveals that he could see himself married to her.

Yet feelings and emotions do not come easily to these men, and vast sequences go by where the two men talk about things without talking about the things they actually want to talk about. This is, I think, what the film is actually about; pent up male rage, stifled psychological states, and how our modern corporate culture has created that. One scene sees Chad lecturing Howard on their great plan while Howard awkwardly occupies a toilet cubicle. Chad doesn’t seem to care, and occasionally asks Howard why he’s taking so long. The fact that he might want some privacy simply does not occur to him.

Labute’s screenplay is an excellent one, with layered and textured dialogue which is never boring to listen to, and could have been written by Mamet. It fearlessly plumbs the male mind. It was made on what I gather is a minuscule budget, yet never shows it. The camerawork from Tony Hettinger is largely still, and flat, allowing us to see the faces and hear the words, limiting itself to a couple of pans- this could very easily be a play. The colour range is dull, to reflect the hellish conditions that have led to this brutal anomie.

But mainly, it’s the actors who bring this film alive. Eckhart’s performance is genuinely chilling, and he brings to life a character whom you are never sure quite when he is being honest. His words, his laughs, all appear natural yet in the context in which we know him we are unnerved by how much of a façade this seems to be. Malloy’s character on the other hand is the beta to Chad’s alpha, a nervous man always wringing his hands, sick of his nice-guy status. Both performances get under the skin of the characters, and both end up being equally dangerous in their own ways.

This is a fascinating that just stops short of being a perfect one. A couple of stylistic choices held me back; one shot lingers just a little too long over some “CAUTION” tape, and there’s a bizarre tribal score that is occasionally intrusive. The end scenes work, although they veer slightly too close to being undeservedly “neat”.

Yet these are small niggles. This is a truly disturbing film, which I recommend wholeheartedly with the caveat that you’ve probably never seen evil like this before; armed with suspenders, a nice shirt, and a false smile. It does a dangerous thing in allowing us to empathise with the characters so as to condone them. But crucially, it never lectures, and any open-minded audience member is treated to a film which respects your intelligence; I mean that as a very high compliment indeed.

Review of The Book of Revelation (2006)

“A lot of men would pay to be in your position.”

“If I paid, this would be my choice. This is not my choice”

This dialogue, between a rapist and her victim, occurs about one third into Australian Ana Kokkinos’ “The Book of Revelation” (based on Rupert Thomson’s novel) a film which is not about the Bible, and to my mind has few Biblical allusions. It is instead about a dancer called Daniel, played by Tom Long, who is out buying cigarettes when he is abducted by three hooded women, taken to a secluded shack, and sexually assaulted for twelve days. Then he is released, and the rest of the film details his attempts at piecing his life together, and re-integrating himself into society following his traumatic experience.

If it sounds like this film might be too harrowing, then it is and it isn’t. This is not an “easy” film, in the sense that people who are sensitive to graphic sex or sexual assault will likely be put off by two or three scenes, yet the scenes of assault largely occur in one ten-minute stretch, and the film is careful to surround them with scenes which are real. This film could not be less exploitative.

No, this film is more difficult because it raises a number of questions about the nature of rape, and the so-called rape culture that is contained within our society.  As David is being assaulted, as a man myself, I found myself aroused, purely as a physiological reaction, in much the same way David was aroused against his will. This echoes Michael Haneke's Funny Games, which made the viewer complicit in the torture of a middle-class suburban family to make you think about the true nature of screen violence; I admired that film for its nobility of purpose, and I feel much the same way about this film. You may note that the film is directed by a woman, but this is not an overtly feminist film, and it does not subvert the rape revenge genre in the way Baise Moi did. The film forgoes the revenge entirely. It instead has a vivid sympathy for all suffering, irrespective of whether it is a man or a woman who is suffering, or whether it is a man or a woman who is inflicting the suffering.

What massively helps the film is the central performance. Tom Long is incredibly adept at conveying mental anguish behind a stony exterior, and whilst there is only one real moment where we see his anguish get on top of him, his emotions appear to be painted on his face. I was surprised at how involved I became in his journey and attempts at piecing his life together following what he went through. His behaviour may not make logical sense at times, but he makes us understand how sometimes we behave illogically under pressure, and that’s a tricky thing. Excellent performances also come from Greta Scacchi as David’s dance tutor, and Deborah Olsen, who plays Julie, the woman David attempts a relationship with following his ordeal. They care for David, and again their performances seem real and convincing; this helps, in a film which could very easily have been highly implausible.

The film also has a clinical detachment, echoing the texture and tone of 90’s Cronenberg, which I came to appreciate. The camerawork has a certain classical quality, placing what we need to see plainly at the centre of the screen, whilst also leaving time for little details (the film is very good at drawing out smaller moments, such as when David traces his finger over objects in extreme close-up; instances like this, far from being amateurish film-school tics, bolster the film’s realism and subtly draw the viewer in). Note also the infrequent symbolism, such as the planes and boats flying away from David. Just because what it symbolises is obvious doesn't make it any less effective. 

I understand that this may not be a film for everyone. It asks difficult questions, and does not pretend to have the answers. It doesn’t explain things that people accustomed to a traditional narrative may expect, such as who the rapists are, and why they are doing what they are doing. The conclusion is far from tidy, and those who are averse to interpretive dance may be advised to stay away. The film to me is more depiction of what would happen if a man was placed in the same scenario women are placed in every single day, as we see and read in the news. It understands socially perceived notions about the male and female libido (one brave scene sees David try and tell the police what has happened; they say he must be a “lucky guy”), yet overlays this with the principle that all forms of violation are bad. The film sticks to its guns with a certain determination, remembers to be emotionally involving, and can genuinely claim to make you think. Here I am.