The work of Portishead co-founder the musician-producer, this sharp-edged if slight debut feature turns a sceptical eye on the ecstasy-fueled club scene. Venal pillhead David (Marc Bessant) first robs an passed-out supplier, then in a later recollection tries to break into his own family home. In no time, he's upside down in the remains of his car in a forest – and subject to the angry eye of the Poacher (vocalist Jason Williamson). Declining to free David, with no time for city dwellers, he is a fractured society embodied: “You’re one of those noisy cunts from up on the heath.”
A Shaky Start and Grimly Amusing Duel
Game gets off to a shaky start, lingering excessively on pedantically chronicling David’s attempt to free himself from his safety harness, while clumsily segueing into flashbacks of his normal activities. The central theme – that the rave-era youth were mainly focused on number one – is firmly made. But these vignettes are too thin to adequately prepare us for what to expect when the Poacher turns up, fuming after David kills his dog. Nevertheless, a darkly funny duel unfolds – David desperate to escape; the Woodsman withholding his jerrycan of cider, determined to dousing him instead in embittered discourse. Williamson, exuding ponderous menace in the role, is evocative of Michael Smiley.
Visual Flair and Promo-Inspired Vibe
Just a single key story turn, but it results in a hilariously staged chaotic run on the woodland paths that veers toward folk horror. Director John Minton at last unleashes with his showy imagery: where he was focused intently doing artful shots of insects in the light in the early stages, he now lets rip with the full psychedelic grand display, accompanied by a frenzied keyboard rendition of Ravel’s Boléro. Game feels more like an extended promo than a fully fledged drama, but there’s enough bold visuals to suggest that Minton could follow Jonathan Glazer, Garth Jennings et al into successfully graduating from the UK video industry.
Game is in British and Irish cinemas from November 17.
