Outcast (2010)
Distributor: Momentum Pictures
DVD Release Date: 17th January 2011
Directed by: Colm McCarthy
Starring: James Nesbitt, Kate Dickie, Niall Bruton, Hanna Stanbridge
Review by: Ben Bussey
A run-down, uninviting housing estate in Edinburgh has two new residents: a Irish traveller named Mary (Kate Dickie) and her adolescent son Fergal (Nial Bruton). Hastily accepting the first flat the council housing associate offers them, Mary wastes no time getting them settled, which in their case involves painting occult symbols on the walls for protection. It’s easy to see that Mary and Fergal are on the run from someone or something, but their troubles take a somewhat different form than those of most ordinary folk. Hot on their trail, and freshly tattooed with similar occult markings, is Cathal (James Nesbitt), a fellow traveller determined to track Mary and Fergal down, and with the aid of knowledgable magician Liam (Ciaran McMenamin) he sets out to do so by mystical means.
But as Kate does her utmost to keep herself and her son hidden from public view, Fergal finds himself drawn to his pretty young neighbour Petronella (Hanna Stanbridge). Friendship blooms, which quickly blossoms into romance, which of course quickly promises to blossom into the beast with two backs. His mother may warn him furiously that he must keep his passions in check, but naturally Fergal cannot help but act on impulse. After all, he’s only human… or is he?
Thanks to an interesting premise, an above-average cast and a serious approach, this humble, midrange-budget film is one of the most unique and enjoyable British horrors in recent memory. What makes it so fascinating and compelling is the manner in which it takes elements of folklore and witchcraft – typically associated with the grandiose and escapist – and transposes them to an all-too recognisable grim reality of existence on the brink of poverty. This isn’t the glossy, CG-fuelled magical world of The Craft, wherein even Fairuza Balk’s trailer looks warm and cosy. This is a world of the neglected underclass, replete with crumbling concrete tower blocks, and flats with damp walls. It is to the film’s credit that for the most part it plays like a non-supernatural kitchen sink drama. Nesbitt may be a grim obsessive villian, Dickie may be an stern overprotective matriach, and Stanbridge may be the young temptress next door, but none of these performances are played in a stereotypical, camp fashion. Bruton in particular does himself proud with an nicely understated turn as the insecure, hormonally charged teen sitting on a timebomb of pent-up emotion.
Given this level of naturalism, when mysticism is added to the mix the results are interesting indeed. We see rituals performed, incantations muttered and sigils scrawled, but the use of special effects in these sequences is restrained indeed. Films which present the occult in so realistic a fashion are few and far between, and as such this really helps to set Outcast apart; indeed, I have already seen it mentioned in the same breath as The Wicker Man. However, whilst The Wicker Man never offered any evidence that the heathen practices of the people of Summerisle yielded any real, physical results, here there is no question that the magic does exactly what it says on the tin. The idea of such supernatural forces at work in the most mundane, cold, industrial locale is a compelling notion.
A little more conventional, however, is the lycanthropic element. Yes, as the cover image suggests this isn’t just a tale of witchcraft but also of werewolves. Our furry friends may be one of the great staples of horror, but as we have seen alarmingly often in the last two decades – from Wolf, to American Werewolf In Paris, to Cursed, to last year’s The Wolfman – they can be a bit tricky to get right. Alas, Outcast does fall into some of the typical wolf-related pitfalls. The equation of ‘the beast within’ to repressed sexuality is a pretty well-trodden path, and while it may bring some agreeably torrid sequences it also results in by far the most predictable elements of the narrative. And then there’s the beast itself. This is usually the biggest stumbling block for werewolf movies, and I’m sorry to say Outcast doesn’t quite clear it either. When the creature is finally revealed, it simply doesn’t look very good, which somewhat sours the conclusion of a film that had otherwise built an oppressive supernatural atmosphere with minimal SFX.
However, as with the similarly lacklustre werewolf in the closing scenes of Ginger Snaps, these minor failings are easy to overlook when everything else in the film works so well. The debut feature of established TV director Colm McCarthy, there is more than enough here to suggest he has a bright future in film, genre or otherwise. From the bold, against-type casting of James Nesbitt all the way down to the council estate chavs (amongst whom, a great many fanboys will doubtless be excited to learn, is a brief appearance from Doctor Who’s latest companion Karen Gillan), there isn’t a bad performance in sight, which is a distinct rarity in debut horror movies. Sure, the climactic scenes may concede to cliche somewhat, but at no point does Outcast concede to trash; never does it treat the drama any less seriously than we would expect were it a straight urban drama that did not involve magic and monsters. As such, Outcast is a film that demands to be seen, and taken seriously, by a wide audience. Here’s hoping that happens. Be sure you don’t let this one pass you by.