Brooklyn Horror Film Festival: Repulse (2021)

Clues that we are seeing the aftermath of violence are what introduce us to Repulse (2021): shattered glass, a trashed vehicle, a discarded hammer. But no sooner has this eerie calm unfolded, than it’s being disrupted by an angry scream; then we’re elsewhere entirely, now actually witnessing violence taking place. This episodic, fitful structure is here to stay and it’s unsettling, though its consistent handling weaves together a genuinely gripping narrative. It doles out the facts in this narrative very carefully.

The facts are these: firstly, we are made privy to a bitterly broken marriage. You can’t quite call this wealthy, modern home a gilded cage – it’s too minimalist for that – but what we do glean is the deep unhappiness of wife Katerina (Pavla Gajdosíková), so it’s a cage nonetheless. Husband Robert has found evidence that she’s been having an affair; as he alternates between cruelty and sifting through the house in a pair of black latex gloves, you can’t blame her for seeking any outlet other than this peculiar, cruel man. Meanwhile, elsewhere, we meet a man named Viktor (Stepán Kozub), living not only in a diametrically-opposed kind of poverty, but evidently dealing with the death of an as-yet nameless, faceless woman. That she matters to him in some way is clear; everything else is murky, but he does not appear to be the archetypal maniac in the dilapidated house; it seems that, as the timeline gradually comes together, he has been victimised, too.

It’s clear that these two worlds could quite easily have continued in their separate ways, each as miserable as the other, but an accident occurs after Robert leaves the marital home with daughter Sara – which brings them both into contact. The clash itself, and how events then unfold, comprises the rest of the film. That we are expected to piece all of this together, like a puzzle, adds an additional layer of cruelty to proceedings, perhaps. It is an engrossing device, however, and it successfully draws the audience into two very different, though equally alienated, unpleasant situations.

Horror tropes are openly, consciously selected throughout the film, but you can never depend on them. They can be teased apart, repurposed. Aesthetically, elements of Repulse look more than a little familiar; this would be a weakness perhaps, were the plot to just mirror these. But it doesn’t; it goes further than the sum of its parts, leading to a profound moral cold which hangs over the film throughout. Aside from the usual horror movie motifs – the masks, the cuffs, the general degradation – the film introduces other symbols. Cars mirror cars; broken glass peppers both the poor house and the rich one. Dead and damaged flowers often seem to be on the periphery. What’s being routinely trampled underfoot seems to be as important as what we see elsewhere, it appears. Overarching all of this, it also seems clear that the collision between these two families happens via momentary adaptations, sudden changes in direction, rather than via longer-held plans (such as in the similarly family-orientated horror, See No Evil). This works to Repulse‘s favour; tenuous connections become seemingly inescapable, and chance is key. This is, in itself, a fearsome idea. If it’s been done elsewhere, then it has rarely matched this level of detail.

The writing, directing and editing of this film must have meant an incredibly meticulous process, so its status as a first-time feature by Emil Krizka is all the more impressive. He has balanced intricacy against genuinely unsettling, frightening scenes, letting events and images slowly come together. Dialogue is minimal throughout, but boy, can you see every thought process going on in Gajdosíková’s head; Kozub, too, rarely explains himself, but you can envision a world of pain and trauma behind his own cruelty. He’s no two-dimensional monster. Nothing in this film is two-dimensional. Repulse is, in short, a massive achievement: it feels like a new, clever, confident kind of dark modern horror.

Repulse (2021) is part of the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival: for more details, please click here.