By Keri O’Shea
A night out, somewhere in the US: two young women turn their noses up at male attention to head home, drink J&B and get it on. But someone, somewhere, has been watching them – and their assailant isn’t too happy with what they’re doing…
That is the basic premise behind Slit, the seventh short film by writer and director Colin Clarke: wearing its heart on its sleeve, it’s very much one of the new wave of giallo-a-likes, a recent phenomenon which, I have to say, surprises me to a degree. I’m not sure how many of the filmmakers adding black leather gloves and bottles of whisky to their movies are long-term fans of the genre, or how many have simply identified a recognisable, visually-strong shooting style which can be done in a relatively straightforward way (ignoring the fact that feature-length gialli typically go through so many ludicrous plot twists that you’ve no idea who did what, come the finale.) Whatever the case may be, in eleven minutes, Slit does indeed reference a fair few of the expected tropes, never straying too far from these – even into the end credits. Take a look and see what you think…
First things first, the film is clearly all about the visuals, and given the usual constraints an indie filmmaker has to work with, the end product looks reasonably good. My main complaint here would be that in some respects it feels torn between 70s and 80s, incorporating a number of (admittedly stylish) earlier giallo-style shots, but also with regards the colour and strength of the prominent lighting, as well as the appearance of the girls and their location, it also feels much later. This detracts a little from the atmosphere, as it doesn’t always feel clear what this style is in homage to exactly. There are also a few moments I’d happily do without (the CGI, in a nutshell) but – with the stylish music and a number of skillful shots, there is good visual and soundtrack work here.
I suppose, though, my main issue with the film is in its basic message (and that title can be read pretty crudely, too, which is something that could have been a bit of a misfire). Perhaps I’m not the main target audience here, not being particularly interested in the lion’s share of this film, which is a girl-on-girl sex scene. In fact, considering one of my key thoughts during this was ‘she’s wearing that underwear with that dress? Hello VPL!’ I’d say the ‘erotic’ angle here didn’t do anything for me.
Moving on from that though, the film pares down its sex and its horror to such a degree that it all comes across feeling rather negative; bearing in mind the title and the fate of the characters here, Slit takes the aspects of gialli which could be seen as negative on women – and runs with them, giving us three female characters who exist only to kill or be killed. The thing is, though, gialli had an hour and a half to play with, and so even at their most scathing or denigratory, and let’s face it – some of them were – they could still characterise their women in an interesting way. There was more to get to grips with. Things are rendered down so much here for the short-film version that it feels a little unsavoury and a little flat to me.
Lacking surprises, then, but still with shooting skill intact, Slit is perhaps best thought of as a visual calling card, because the visual approach is the priority here. I’ll certainly readily take a look at the other films in the Daredevil Films canon, and it would be good to see different styles and other ideas being represented.