Helmed by Bristol sound co-founder Geoff Barrow, this sharp-edged though undernourished first film turns a sceptical eye on 90s rave culture. Venal pillhead David (Marc Bessant) initially steals from an passed-out supplier, then in a later recollection tries to burgle his own family home. Before you can say, he's upside down in the remains of his car in a woodland – and subject to the angry eye of the Poacher (vocalist Jason Williamson). Refusing to extricate David, with impatience toward townies, he is a fractured society personified: “You’re one of those noisy cunts from up on the heath.”
A Shaky Start and Darkly Funny Duel
The film begins uncertainly, spending too long on pedantically chronicling David’s attempt to free himself from his safety harness, while clumsily segueing into flashbacks of his everyday life. The bigger point – that the ecstasy generation were mainly focused on themselves – is firmly made. But these brief episodes are insufficiently developed to adequately prepare us for what to expect when the Woodsman turns up, fuming after David kills his dog. Still, a grimly amusing standoff unfolds – David eager to get away; the Poacher withholding his jerrycan of scrumpy, intent on soaking him instead in embittered discourse. Williamson, exuding heavy threat in the role, is evocative of Michael Smiley.
Visual Flair and Promo-Inspired Sensibility
Just a single key story turn, but it leads to a hilariously staged rampage on the forest trails that dips close to rural terror. Director John Minton at last unleashes with his showy imagery: where he was focused intently doing artful shots of bugs in headlights in the opening part, he now lets rip with the full lysergic 21-gun salute, accompanied by a wild organ version of Ravel’s Boléro. Game feels more like an extended promo than a complete narrative, but there’s enough strident imagery to suggest that Minton could emulate Jonathan Glazer, Garth Jennings et al into making the leap from the UK video industry.
Game is in UK and Irish cinemas from November 17.
