By Tristan Bishop
The film industry, like most creative industries, is notoriously tough to break into. For every A-list movie star at the top of their game, a pyramid made up of thousands of less fortunate souls lies beneath them – a few of them might be well-known character actors, and a few more those supporting faces you recognise but don’t know the names of. On the level below that a few hundred who occasionally work in less high-profile productions, TV, adverts, etc, and below that an entire sea of people who never got a break, whether from bad luck or lack of talent, and who end up giving up on their dreams and presumably settling down with a ‘proper’ job somewhere.
Eat, the debut feature from writer/director Jimmy Weber (he has previously worked on a number of genre shorts) is the story of an actress who is very much on the lowest step of that pyramid. Novella McClure (played by Meggie Maddock) is an actress who hasn’t worked in three years, despite an obvious talent and good looks. Until now she’s been able to survive on an inheritance, but the money has run out, she’s behind on her rent and her eccentric landlady has had to serve her with an eviction notice. She’s now in her early thirties, and, gallingly, seems to be over-looked at every audition she attends in favour of a younger woman (most notably the bitchy Tracy, played by Dakota Pike). When one of the assistants at a casting mentions that her boyfriend might have some work for Novella, she assumes she is being fooled into a porn audition, and reacts furiously. On the angry drive home, Novella has a strange and uncontrollable urge, and takes a big bite out of her own arm, waking up confused and scared. Despite her initial horror, and subsequent hospitalisation (which sees her treated as a suicide attempt), Novella finds that every time stress or tragedy strikes, she gets an overwhelming urge to tuck into herself…
Well, it should be fairly obvious to anyone reading that Eat is functioning very much on a metaphorical level; obviously there is a very specific parallel to be made with eating disorders here, a very real affliction to many trying to make it in the acting/modelling worlds, but there also appears to be a more general metaphor at work with regard to the self-destructive nature of those who work in the creative fields (and one which is hammered home by the final shot of the film). But metaphor itself is a hard sell to an audience – and is generally only effective if contained in an entertaining or engrossing narrative, so we have to judge Eat on whether it works this way. And it very nearly does.
The film’s best attribute is the cast. Maddock shines here, giving an emotional depth to a character that most would judge on sight as yet another bottle-blonde actress. One scene in particular, where she delivers a soliloquy at an audience, only for it to have unexpected consequences, is actually pretty moving. Respect should also be given to Ali Francis, in the role of Candice, Novella’s best friend, who might just have her own agendas in trying to help Novella (as well as some telling misapprehensions about exactly what is happening to her), and an amusing comic turn by Maru Garcia (in her first screen role!) as Novella’s landlady, Eesha. Also worthy of note is the look of the film – There’s a dash of Nicholas Winding Refn’s hyper-colourful style here (which impresses from the off with the candy-coloured credits over electro-pop music), and far from being just a hipster appropriation, it actually works thematically here (with the idea of Hollywood being surface-obsessed). Also the gore is suitably icky and impressive – self-cannibalism is a naturally disturbing idea, and to have it displayed so graphically is doubly so – I believe I actually said ‘yuck’ out loud once or twice (I was watching it on my own).
In the end, however, I felt some ambivalence towards Eat. Despite the obvious aesthetic pleasures (both nice and nasty) on show, and the touching moments driven by Maddock (who I would love to see more of), the final pay-off just doesn’t work; it’s too obviously metaphoric, and moves into a realm of fantasy which isn’t mirrored by earlier events. It’s one of those ‘oh.’ moments which unfortunately derails so many films, and leaves the viewer unsatisfied and annoyed, especially when they have been intermittently involved in the narrative.
With that in mind, Eat is still worth a watch, although I would place it firmly in the ‘flawed but interesting’ category.
Eat is available now on Region 2 DVD from Monster Pictures.