Family fortunes and feuding relatives form a solid foundation for a twisted and sometimes florid thriller in Origin of Evil. Sebastien Marnier's third feature film, after School's Out (2018) and Faultless (2016), feels like an homage to Patricia Highsmith's Ripley, featuring a slippery central character skilled at deception and reinvention. There's also an echo of Knives Out as Marnier charts the tensions in a home where the residents resemble a nest of vipers. Those connections and nods to Agatha Christie, Claude Chabrol and others should easily appeal to mystery fans. Laure Calamy and a strong cast add appeal to what could prove to be a solid, widespread commercial draw upon its release in French cinemas in October.
It quickly becomes apparent that nothing is as it seems in this joyous adventure. Recent French cinema has portrayed Calamy as an indomitable woman, fighting against tough odds on journeys of self-discovery (Her Way, Angry Annie). Marnier uses her sympathetic presence and emotional vulnerability to serve a more ambiguous character in The Origin of Evil.
Director: Sébastien Marnier
Writers: Fanny Burdino, Sébastien Marnier
Stars: Laure Calamy, Doria Tillier, Dominique Blanc
Stéphane (Calamy) works in a fish factory. His hot-headed lover (Suzanne Clement) is about to serve a five-year prison sentence. Stéphane's life is one of struggle and survival. It's no surprise that he finally reaches out to his long-absent and fabulously wealthy father Serge (Jacques Weber). But is she after her money or is she simply seeking the comfort of a family connection she has rarely known?
Serge lives in the kind of palatial island home that could happily house a Bond villain. Marnier vividly contrasts the difference in circumstances: Stéphane shares a cramped, dimly lit apartment in a life of desperation; Serge lives surrounded by luxury, his house is full of light and signs of privilege. She also asks to become a crime scene with rifles hanging casually from the walls and hand-sharpened kitchen knives.
Stéphane's sudden appearance instantly irritates Serge's wife, Louise (Dominique Blanc), and her other daughter, George (Doria Tillier). Even an eavesdropping maid resents her intrusion. Marnier uses split screen to isolate individuals in the same conversation, presenting them like a gallery of dishonest suspects in a Christie detective novel.
Surrounded by resentment, Stéphane improves her reputation by telling a little white lie about owning a fish canning company, rather than admitting that she works at the factory. This makes her even more sympathetic, but it is an early sign of her ability to improvise, stretch the truth, and please others. She convinces Serge that she could be her ally to prevent the rest of the family from declaring him incompetent to manage her affairs.
It quickly becomes apparent that nothing is as it seems in this light-hearted game. Marnier's agile script takes us beyond surface appearances to reveal the hidden agendas at play. Driven by revelations, twists and a seasoning of sly humor, Dawn of Evil is very watchable, even if some ingredients push it towards parody. The mention of a secret passage and the rumble of thunder to signal the upcoming outcome while eating egg pudding, not to mention the score by Philippe Brault and Pierre Lapointe, flirt with Victorian melodrama.
The clever machinations of the plot are always supported by a solid cast that plays the emotional truth of the situations to their core. Weber gradually reveals the cunning and unrepentant monster in Serge. Blanc is a constant delight as the cheerful and surprisingly clever Louise, a woman for whom excessive shopping is the best revenge. Tillier's steely, tough character grows in our estimation as we discover what she has been fighting against. And Calamy charms throughout, especially when the camera frames her face and captures moments of trembling anxiety and nervous laughter that those around her don't see. She is about someone who negotiates life without a safety net.
Watch The Origin of Evil 2022 Movie Trailer
Comments
Post a Comment