The work of Portishead co-founder the musician-producer, this sharp-edged if undernourished debut feature turns a sceptical eye on 90s rave culture. Venal drug user David (Marc Bessant) first robs 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 Woodsman (Sleaford Mods frontman Jason Williamson). Refusing to extricate David, with no time for townies, he is broken Britain personified: “You’re one of those noisy cunts from up on the heath.”
A Shaky Start and Grimly Amusing Confrontation
The film begins uncertainly, spending too long on meticulously detailing David’s attempt to extricate himself from his seatbelt, while clumsily segueing into flashbacks of his everyday life. The bigger point – that the ecstasy generation were mainly focused on themselves – is clearly conveyed. But these vignettes are too thin to properly prime us for what to expect when the Poacher turns up, fuming after David kills his dog. Still, a darkly funny standoff unfolds – David eager to get away; the Poacher denying his container of cider, determined to soaking him instead in resentful talk. Williamson, exuding ponderous menace in the role, is reminiscent of Michael Smiley.
Visual Flair and Music Video Vibe
There is only one key story turn, but it leads to a hilariously staged chaotic run on the forest trails that veers toward rural terror. Director John Minton at last unleashes with his ostentatious visuals: where he was focused intently doing artful shots of insects in the light in the early stages, he now goes all out with the full lysergic 21-gun salute, soundtracked to a wild organ version of Ravel’s Boléro. Game feels more like an extended promo than a complete narrative, but there’s enough bold visuals to suggest that Minton could follow Jonathan Glazer, Garth Jennings et al into making the leap from the UK video industry.
The film releases in UK and Irish cinemas from 17 November.
