Fans of David Lynch
and Takashi Miike
should appreciate this extremely well-crafted French-Canadian exercise
in surreality, though I suspect most everyone else will be annoyed by
it.
The Package
This 2005 Quebec production was the feature debut of
the talented writer-director Robin Aubert. It made a minor splash in its
native Canada but to date has never been released in the English
speaking world, where it remains largely unknown. For that matter, SAINT
MARTYRS OF THE DAMNED (SAINTS-MARTYRS DES-DAMNES) is now quite rare even
in Canada, where it was released on DVD, briefly, by Christal Films.
The Story
Two tabloid journalists, Flavien and Armand, are
dispatched to a rural town to investigate a series of suspicious
disappearances. The town is a seriously creepy place, a fact that
becomes evident when Flavien stops their rental car to avoid hitting a
little girl Armand can’t see. Later that night Armand disappears, and so
the hapless Flavien must deal with the increasing weirdness of the town
and its residents on his own.
The people of this place all seem hostile to various
degrees, including a mechanic who wears a freaky mask and extorts money
from Flavien at gunpoint, an apathetic whore who runs a sleazy diner,
her retarded son who converses with a teddy bear, and two young toughs
who drag Flavien before the town mayor, who resides in a church and
makes it clear that Flavien isn’t welcome. Flavien perseveres, however,
determined to find the missing Armand.
It’s the whore who cryptically fills Flavien in on the
weird secret at the heart of the town, telling him how the residents are
all awaiting “their turn” for something. We get an idea what that “turn”
consists of when we’re shown inside a nightmarish farm-based factory
where Armand is being held. Also present in the factory is a man
resembling Flavien, wondering who the other person who looks so much
like him is and why he’s there.
From there we’re inducted into the town’s secret
underworld, which involves a makeshift cloning factory, white slavery
and a disgusting stitched-together mutation with hundreds of roving
eyes--and it all somehow involves Flavien and his family.
The Direction
This is a first feature, but doesn’t play like one. In
its stylistic brilliance it showcases a mature and confident filmmaking
talent. The deliriously oft-kilter rhythms of the dialogue and gradually
building sense of supernatural apprehension prove this film was crafted
by a master. It also looks damn fine with its sumptuous dark-hued
cinematography. I’d go so far as to say SAINT MARTYRS OF THE DAMNED is
easily one of the most assured and impressive Canadian films of the past
couple decades.
That praise, however, applies solely to the filmmaking,
and not the story or characters. Mind you, the script isn’t bad, just
loose and uneven. Writer-director Robin Aubert errs in inserting a sappy
romance into the film’s middle (complete with a pukey French love song
on the soundtrack), which slows things down considerably (although
Aubert does pull off an awesome floating lovemaking sequence, an effect
I expect other filmmakers will imitate in the coming years). A couple of
lengthy TWIN PEAKS-ish dream sequences also break up the action, adding
nothing to the film overall but gratuitous weirdness (admittedly not an
entirely bad thing!).
From a dramatic standpoint Aubert doesn’t quite pull
off the climactic switch from surreal drama to science fictionish
horror. Aubert was evidently less interested in what was going on in the
factory, which in the end is left hazy and only partially explained,
than in the oddness occurring in the world outside it. I realize for
some viewers this will be enough for a satisfying viewing experience;
others, however, will come away wanting far more.
Vital Statistics
SAINT MARTYRS OF THE DAMNED (SAINTS-MARTYRS DES-DAMNES)
Max Films/Christal Films
Director: Robin Aubert
Producers: Roger Frappier, Luc Vandal
Screenplay: Robin Aubert
Cinematography: Steve Asselin
Editing: Michel Arcand
Cast: Francois Chenier, Isabelle Blais, Patrice Robitaille, Monique
Mercure, Monique Miller, Alexis Martin, Hubert Loiselle, Mathilde
Lavigne, Alec Poirier, David Savard, Renaud Lacelle-Bourdon, Michel
Forget