By Karolina Gruschka
“I really shouldn’t be telling you this…”
Set in the late 1960s, an introverted young girl (Lauren Ashley Carter) takes up service as a house-sitter in the oldest mansion of the city. Before departing, the lady of the house (Sean Young) discloses the building’s bad reputation and admits that not many people would choose to stay there alone. Though the property is surrounded in ghost stories and the mystery of the previous caretaker’s suicide, Madame adds that the girl “needn’t worry” and that “the house will take care” of her…
“This […] city is always on the defensive”
The city is an assemblage of nameless strangers and separate places which we mostly may not have access to; anonymity renders freedom, yet, on the flip side, the interaction with strangers could be potentially dangerous. Down here, countless faces pass by who will not play a role in each other’s lives and from up there, everything seems so distant, small and meaningless.
Director Mickey Keating’s choice to keep the polyphonic sounds of the city to an absolute minimum (or even non-existent from inside the house) only enhances the sense of isolation and emptiness. In contrast, the atmosphere within the old building feels very heavy and dense. Within this environment the nameless protagonist starts to develop symptoms of psychosis and, as the narrative progresses, slowly but surely gives in to the dark abyss of her mind…
“Deep calls to deep”
Though Mickey Keating makes films that predominantly fall into the horror genre, one can detect that he is an aficionado of a variety of movie genres. Darling has an air of 1960s European art-house cinema, reminiscent of the French Nouvelle Vague or auteur films such as Polanski’s Repulsion and Bergman’s Persona. The film explores the relationship between naturalism and formalism by employing stylization to express the character’s uniquely conceived reality. While there are mundane actions occurring almost in real time (her pacing up and down a corridor, her exploring the rooms in the house, her cleaning the bathroom) and the camera often takes an observational viewpoint, Darling is composed of a montage of sound (clock ticking, phone ringing) and striking imagery (phone, door, lipstick). Furthermore, the use of angles which give the house at times an Alice in Wonderland appearance (disproportionately small or tall door frames) as well as the manipulation of light (descending dark, very subtle shadows, strobe effects) allow the viewer to be absorbed into her very intense perception of the world.
What I love about Darling is its subtlety and bravery in taking the time it requires. Despite the film’s concept of ‘girl alone in a (supposedly) haunted mansion’, the potential signs of an external supernatural force are very subtle, yet just enough to keep the possibility of a lurking evil alive. Since the image is in black and white and the mise-en-scene is kept clean and uncluttered, it is also the little things that one starts noticing, such as the shadow on an object slightly darkening. Additionally, I would like to give credit to ‘darling’ Lauren Ashley Carter who gives a fantastic performance in the movie. Despite a very small cast and hardly any dialogue, Carter succeeds at conveying the protagonist’s condition, as well as performing with an intense presence; even when she switches from hysteria to deadpan face, one can feel that there is still something going on.
All in all, Darling is an exploration of reality, an interplay between the hidden and the revealed and an interlink between the past and a foreboding of the future. If you finally want to see a serious and intense horror film again (no comic relief whatsoever – which is quite refreshing!) go and catch Darling when it comes to a theatre near you.
Darling is released to US cinemas on April 1st, from Screen Media Films.