Sweetie, You Won’t Believe It (2020)

Like a lot of audience members presumably, this reviewer had no idea what to expect from a Kazakh horror-comedy. But it turns out that, however geographically far Kazakhstan might be from many of us, there are many universal features which we can all enjoy; this is an earnest, often puerile and occasionally very gory little odyssey which explores relationships and friendships, albeit through a funny, well-realised and farcical lens. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, and nor should we.

It all starts with young father-to-be Dastan (Daniar Alshinov) and his wife Zhanna (Asel Kaliyeva) who are expecting the birth of their first child – any day now, in fact. As such, they seem to be in that magical phase where they are snapping at each other about pretty much everything. For Dastan, it seems that the travails of imminent parenthood are emasculating him, or it feels like they are; everywhere he looks, he sees himself hemmed in, less of a man. Zhanna doesn’t do a lot to disabuse him of this notion, either; in fact, she chides him continuously for what looks a lot like an entire day, dawn to dusk. Ouch.

Dastan knows what will improve this situation enormously, however, so the next day he organises a nice fishing trip with the lads – a likely bunch, being a cop, and a marital aids salesman respectively. His friends are keen because they see it as an opportunity to mock Dastan for his domestic woes, and they’re actually rather surprised when he insists that yes, he does in fact want to go and fish; it wasn’t just an excuse. That being established, off they go into the countryside. This would all have been well and good, except a gang of local gangster types are engaged on certain business in the countryside too. When a …misunderstanding brings the two groups of men together, chaos kicks in. Fate, we’re told, has a way of doing that.

Sweetie, You Won’t Believe It is a lot of fun. Charming and well-paced, it’s an escapade which has something subtly fresh by nature of its country of origin, but soon feels oh-so familiar. This is by no means a philosophical work: bask in the fact that there is no subtle critique of Kazakhstan and its systems here, at least on any obvious level, and the film tends to stick with that obvious level through and through, to its credit. We have great elements for everyone: oddball local characters, toilet humour, splattery gore and a very well realised comedy of errors.

Whilst deep truths are largely set aside here in favour of gleeful, childish humour then, the film nonetheless has a heart, and it has great characterisation: you really feel for the individual plights each man goes through, even as you laugh at the outcomes. You wince and laugh with them as much as at them. It is also a film dextrous in its edits and camera work – which really helps its best sequences to land – and the direction and writing is really well-pitched at the right level too. At all times, the script and performances pick up the little nuances, the rise and fall of petty squabbles and the trials of trying to find the right words under duress. It’s all nicely done.

Sure, there’s a teeny bit of disparity of threat in some scenes towards the end of the film, but that sort of nit-picking is generally unnecessary. Plenty of laughs and a few OTT grisly moments all come together seamlessly overall in the cartoonish, feelgood vibe which this film readily sustains. It’s even all oddly life-affirming, in its way; think Sam Raimi directing a buddy comedy where he’s given free rein to add some OTT gore, and you’ll be part of the way there; this is director Yernar Nurgaliyev’s baby, however, and it would be great to get more acquainted with his work, if this is a good indication of his style and skill. Sweetie, You Won’t Believe It is a great Saturday night film, and we need plenty more of those.

Sweetie, You Won’t Believe It (2020) will be released by 101 Films on Blu-ray and digital on 21st February 2022.