by Allan Fish
(France 2007 83m) DVD1/2
Aka. À l’intérieur
You killed me once
p Vérane Frédiani, Franck Ribière d Alexandre Bustillo, Julien Maury w Alexandre Bustillo ph Laurent Barès ed Baxter m François Eudes art Marc Thiébault
Béatrice Dalle (the woman), Alysson Paradis (Sarah), Nathalie Roussel (Louise), François-Régis Marchasson (Jean-Pierre), Jean-Baptiste Tabourin (Mathieu), Dominique Frot (nurse), Nicolas Devauchelle (cop),
On 9th November 1888 Thomas Bowyer made his way to 13 Miller’s Court to collect back rent from the young tenant. Receiving no reply, he peered through a crack in the window and saw a sight that doubtless remained burnt into his consciousness for the rest of his life. Jack the Ripper, whoever he may have been (William Bury gets my vote), had taken his final victim and left her in pieces on and around her bed. I remember the first time I saw the sepia photo taken at the crime scene and thinking that here was the result of utter abandonment to psychopathic frenzy the like of which I hope I never see.
Now go forward roughly a century to a time when the bedrooms of many boys and young men throughout the land were decorated with posters of Béatrice Dalle in Betty Blue; that insouciant pout, she reeked of sex. And we had all seen the VHS of what became one of the few cool foreign films, with that opening five minutes, all that sex and casual nudity, that stance in a red dress sans underwear on the bonnet of a vehicle. Everyone dreamt of Betty, but did they see the film to the end, or were they just there for the sex? It all goes pear shaped and Betty goes bonkers; stark raving bonkers.
Two decades later, here’s Béatrice, dressed in black, looking like the avenging anti-angel even hell itself couldn’t contain, like the Female Prisoner Scorpion ratcheted up a notch or ten. She is cold-hearted evil personified, Betty Blue is now Betty Black, and sex has been replaced by a more primeval aphrodisiac; blood. She doesn’t even have a name; she’s just the remorseless creature who takes it upon herself to terrorise Sarah, a young pregnant photographer who has lost her husband in a car crash. We don’t know why she wants to kill her, though we do find out later. It’s all grief apparently, and yet the explanation of the carnage is not of much interest here. It’s the carnage itself, for it’s carnage to make even that witnessed by poor Thomas Bowyer seem like nothing in comparison, the perpetrator making even the sadism of the protagonist of Miike’s Audition seem cuddly. People are killed and injured in increasingly gruesome ways – with scissors, shears, aerosols, toasters – and within a matter of minutes after the first attack, we realise this is a fear ride into hell. The sort of film that does to an audience what the likes of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and Suspiria did in the 1970s, crossing the frontier of what had previously been thought the limits of endurance in horror. Inside is a sick, depraved film, a guttural film, a film that redefines visceral, designed to not just frighten you, but proud of its ability to make many run to the exit. Even the photography fills one with a sense of foreboding, the interiors shot in a deliberately yellow rinse, like the decay of a corpse, liquid plague. It takes you to places that you not only never dreamt of – even in your worst nightmares – but dares you to stick with it.
Both leads offer committed performances and technically it’s dazzling, and if occasionally it’s utterly preposterous (the ‘zombie’ cop could and should have been excised), it’s all part of the plan. The creators’ greatest masterstroke is to make you realise early on that there will be no escape with which to feel relief. The relief you will feel is not the ending itself but making it to the ending in one piece. What happens to the characters is of secondary import, the 80 minutes ingrained like a badge of honour on the optic nerve. All of which brings us back to Miller’s Court where, upon finding the remains, a photographer was sent for with a special camera, in the hope that the old tale of a dead person’s eyes mirroring what they last saw was true. Pity the poor Thomas Bowyer who surveyed the carnage of Sarah’s flat. Can you bear to watch?
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Writers/Founders
Too bad Alan Moore’s “From Hell” has already been exhausted as a source material (Aberline as absynth-soggy psychic, Hughes Brothers? Really?). Then again, it could always work as an epic miniseries, though I doubt any filmmaker or cable network would be crazy enough to do it. One can always hope, though.
“…The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and Suspiria did in the 1970s, crossing the frontier of what had previously been thought the limits of endurance in horror. Inside is a sick, depraved film, a guttural film, a film that redefines visceral, designed to not just frighten you, but proud of its ability to make many run to the exit. Even the photography fills one with a sense of foreboding, the interiors shot in a deliberately yellow rinse, like the decay of a corpse, liquid plague. It takes you to places that you not only never dreamt of – even in your worst nightmares – but dares you to stick with it. ”
I always have such a hard time judging these films, as I’ve said before I really like this stuff so it just doesn’t faze me. Is this that out there? Did it break that much ground? I’d answer yes, this is probably quite out there (sort of par for the course in this genre), but ground breaking yes and no. It’s as great as any in the genre but every 5 years or so there are two or three great films like this. Believe me this is merely like all the other good ones. This is a little different as there are real filmmakers at work here (often time hacks make stuff like this)… it’s fantastic to me that the French are making the best horror films in the world right now as Asia has been mined to death by Hollywood remakes. But sure enough this is set for similar remake treatment.
I adore the fact that this is placed over ‘Y Tu Mamá También’ (I imagine many will scoff at this), and ‘Let the Right One In’–which is usually the go to answer for ‘best modern horror’. Give me this, ‘Calvaire’, ‘Martyrs’, ‘Frontier(s)’ (there’s a REAL sick one), and ‘Antichrist’. (plus I just saw and enjoyed the Eastern European ‘Taxidermia’ the other night, that one has images that will stick with you)
Fantastic review Allan.
Oh and I swear you’re crazy if you don’t watch this in a twin bill, second after another french film from 1990 called BABY BLOOD (aka THE EVIL WITHIN).
Nah, you have this first and then Antichrist!
This is a terrific review, in the fact that I’ve never heard of this film or, had some in passing rattled off what it was about, would have seriously wanted to see it. In and of itself, this review is kinda VISCERAL and the GLEE these filmmakers take in packing everything but the kitchen sink into it is mirrored in Allan’s fine writing here. I have a very strong stomach, I can look at things that, often time, most people turn their heads away from (Jeremy caught a gushing nose-bleed that sent everyone out of the room the other day, but Lucille and I, not ones to squirm, cleaned him up) and I’m glad to see in the description that their is, on top od the blood-letting, some artistry here. Ill seek this one out. Its films like ELM STREET, FRIDAY 13th, HALLOWEEN series that lose there artistic aura after the first attempt and become soley about the blood that turns me off. Carnage? No problem. No artistry in the carnage? Big Problem.
As to this film placing higher than Y TU MAMMA TAMBIEN as another blogger alluded to: I’ll try to explain my feeling here best as I can… I know, with me, imagery has a lot to do with it. We see a film that that strikes our eye so definatively that it lays within our sub-conscious forever. In 2002 I was smitten with films like THE HOURS, PUNCH DRUNK LOVE, and ADAPTATION. However, the films that I spoke of with passion, incessant passion, were films whose imagery wouldn’t leave me alone. As a visual medium, and myself a VISUAL artist, sometimes what I SEE (in combination with what I feel) lays waste an experience that is solely FEELING. Now, this is JUST ME, others might not ever get this. However. I’m more inclined towards a film like TALK TO HER than a film like THE HOURS because the visual inventiveness is an added bonus. This is why ROAD TO PERDITION is more dear to me in 2002 than most of the other films of that year. So, I understand, maybe why a film like INSIDE gets some and not others. IMO
To further my last comment: Its the VISUAL, I feel that elevates a horror film more than just about any genre, in my opinion. The Horror genre, to some, can be too much to take (I prefer “suggestive” horror, some like it splashed all over the screen-i.e. I’ll take HALLOWEEN over SAW any day of the week-im using broad examples here). The plot-lines, actions and driving forces of the genre are usually anything but timid. It is because of this, I feel, that a great horror film need to go that extra visual step to grab everyone. The thing about a film like HALLOWEEN or THE SHINING that differentiates them from the mere slap and dash so many of the horror films that followed them was the artistic and inventive visual styles (Kubricks allusion to Dianne Arbus-the Grady Twins-in THE SHINING is a prime example). The imagery, or inventiveness of, is so striking that, in tandem with the story or themes of the film, it keeps you looking whereas in lesser artistic films you turn away.
NOW, that’s not to say I don’t like an automotonic horror film where a maniac is laying waste everyone and everything in its path. Psychologically, its films like HALLOWEEN, or THE TERMINATOR that fulfill a psychological need for vengeance. I know if I’m having a really shitty day at work (boss is breaking my balls, customers never shut up, my mother relentless in having me do something I feel dumb or embarrassing) that its this kind of film that quenches a disturbed thirst within me. We all, everyone of us, at times wanna lash out violently at times. However, as basically good, law-abiding people, we refrain from our fanatasies of cutting off our emploters head or burying the body of a friend or passersby that’s pissed us off or done us dirty. Its precisely that psychological back up that allows films as viscerally violent and bloody to tend to our malevolent needs. We all have a dark streak in our psyche. Films like this massage our need to act out and soothe us from action. IMO.
Nah, Bury’s the man. TBH, if I would ever write a script it would be on the Ripper killings. I have an idea for one but it’s getting the time.
When you finish the reviews book you should write a script. Find the time Allan! All your cinema love should get put back into the cinema, become part of the cinema not just a commentator on it!
Problem is that I have no desire to become part of it. If I did write it down the line, it would be purely for my own pleasure.
A little late to the conversation here, but I had watched this just a few days before Allan included it on his list here, a placement that I was quite surprised to see.
I’ve raised my rating on it since my initial viewing as it’s one with imagery that has become permanently emblazoned in my head (along with the sound of the scissors in that last scene, a noise which actually made me more squeamish than what I was watching). I’m not sure I need to watch it again, but for a visceral shock and awe type film, it’s about as good as one can get and done with a touch of style that you don’t usually get in these type of gorefests. Plus it’s short, gets to the point quickly, and keeps your heart racing for the entirety.
Allan touched on the zombie cop, which was annoying, but I’m still trying to figure out the point of the constant cuts to the CGI baby, beyond “look what we can do”. It made me think of Ally McBeal or those stupid E-Trade commercials and that’s never a good thing.