Mandy (2018)

Nicolas Cage has to be one of the most divisive actors out there, as well as one of the most hard-working; in fact, these days it’s actually pretty odd for an actor to garner the kinds of mixed feelings which he inspires, but everyone seemingly has an opinion about his extensive body of work. For me, he swings from borderline unwatchable (Vampire’s Kiss, ack) to phenomenal (Leaving Las Vegas is simply brilliant, just as an example). All I knew then, going in to see Mandy, was one thing: I knew nothing at all about the plot, but I did know that I could expect to see ‘peak Nicolas Cage’ in the film. And, oh my, this is the case. Gloriously so. Mandy also happens to be a perfect vehicle for its lead actor, and one of the best films I’ve ever seen him in. Whilst fairly plot lite, the film’s pace and ambience makes for a thrilling, engrossing viewing experience. I’d say that this could be the best film I’ve seen this year.

Set in the 80s, the story begins with Red (Cage) and Mandy, his wife, who are living an idyllic life in the boonies in their lakeside home (and what a home: I wanted to curl up and watch that analogue TV with them). Mandy divides her time between her art and a dependable, quiet job as a store clerk; Red’s a lumberjack. So far, so steady, and although we don’t spend too long in this calm, relaxed mode, you do get a genuine sense of the affection between these two. But a chance encounter with a busful of cultists propels Mandy into a brief, brutal nightmare, when they see her by chance from their vehicle. Tracing her to her home, and motivated by the ‘connection’ which cult leader Jeremiah feels he shares with Mandy (aided and abetted by the industrial strength hallucinogens which the cultists seem to like) Jeremiah tries to recruit the girl. Mandy is dosed and held captive, as is Red, but when she laughs at her would-be leader, it’s more than he can take, and so he punishes her. Red is forced to ensure seeing his beloved killed in front of his eyes, before the cult members depart, leaving him essentially for dead.

Traumatised and wounded, Red’s first thought is not however for calling the cops. It’s for revenge. Stalking the group, and the bizarre leather-clad biker gang who help them to do a lot of their dirty work, he starts to pick them off, one by one, with an increasingly diverse array of grisly methods. That’s it, in a nutshell.

I told you it was plot lite and it is, but this is by no means a bad thing; Mandy is more of an aural/visual experience than it is a detailed story, and the characters’ predilection for mind-altering substances gets passed on to the audience via the film’s incredible colour palettes, detailed asides into fictional worlds, pulsing soundtrack and overall talent for hyperbole. Red glowers, grimaces and screams his way through his ordeal, turning into more of a supernatural force than a man. Likewise, the cult members are larger than life themselves, and no pushovers. The biker gang are more like cenobites than regular beings, and the overblown, quasi-religious psychobabble coming from the cultists is matched against their extraordinarily cruel behaviour – Jeremiah in particular (played with full frontal aplomb by Linus Roache) is a deeply menacing figure, very arresting on screen. It’s interesting that the film takes for its title the name of a character who isn’t actually in the film for very long: however, it feels as though Mandy (British actress Andrea Riseborough) is present throughout, even if only as the driving factor behind Red’s escalating lunacy. The film’s quick, almost frenetic pace after the initial assault, supported by varied approaches such as animated sequences and on-screen text, make the film dreamlike, like a fractured memory of something so outlandish it could hardly be believed.

All of that said, I can understand why opinions on Mandy tend to fall into one of two camps – utter love for the film, or rejection outright. Your sentiments on Mr. Cage losing his marbles as only he can will have some impact on this, but also, the film’s refusal to do anything neatly, keeping characterisation on the down-low and prioritising atmosphere over any of the usual story markers could be challenging for some viewers. I would strongly suggest coming to Mandy with an open mind if you can, preparing yourself for the fact that this is an unorthodox tale which can and will make your head throb. If you can do that, then you can just allow the stylised violence to pour over you, and bask in the ambience. Mandy is an impressive, immersive piece of work; I absolutely adored it.