Men (2022) - Movie Review
What if I told you the director of Ex-Machina is doing his best Aronofsky impersonation?
Let’s discuss.
Let me start by saying, I love A24. I love the freedom they give to their filmmakers. Some of my favorite films have come from this extremely young studio, like Hereditary, The VVitch, and Midsommar. Unfortunately, freedom can be detrimental to an artist, and without the feedback and redirection, things can get out of hand.
Enter Alex Garland, one of the best writer/directors on the planet. His show Devs is one of the best television viewing experiences I’ve ever had. And his magnum opus, Ex Machina, is one of the best science fiction films of this generation. However, with each new film, Garland appears to have begun to enjoy the smell of his own farts. Annihilation is barely a movie, and I have no idea why it received such rave reviews. Yes, it was beautiful—but who gives a shit when there’s no one in the movie that’s even half likable?
And then there’s MEN.
Much like Darren Aronofsky’s 2017 steaming dump, Mother, Garland has created a film so obtuse and pretentious that it somehow defies disappointment.
This was marketed as a horror movie. Every single add made it look like an adrenaline fueled thrill ride.
Pour one out for the editor who cut those trailers, we salute you and you deserve a raise.
Because this dull, poorly paced affair should have been a short film. If this had been a 45 minute short, it would have been amazing. As it is, this muddled allegory for one woman’s trauma inspired prejudice resulted in her getting grabbed assed by the Green Man or something, who even cares at this point?
Jessie Buckley is a fine actress, and I think she’s absolutely stunning—but her character in this film is unbearable. She is an absolute ass to every single person. I understand that she is a victim of domestic abuse, and I absolutely wanted to root for her when that story beat is revealed, but she doesn’t show any depth or anything that my subconscious could relate and latch onto. Yes, I understand I’m a man—but so is the writer director—chill.
Rory Kinnear is an absolute rockstar, and I have loved him since Penny Dreadful entered my heart. He’s an actor beyond measure and he does a bang up job here, but unfortunately the novelty element of his performance gets old quick and basically turns a beautiful and vibrant film beige. Also, the digital effects used in his scenes are terrible and you can see jagged edges on face swaps, and horrible layer blending, leaving the obviously expensive production looking cheap.
The climax of the film is supposed to be gross and frightening, but the disgusting, terrible digital effect is looped over and over for what felt like fifteen minutes. My viewing partner left in the middle of it, because they couldn’t control their temper any longer.
The visuals and metaphors are hamfisted and extremely confused. The film seems like it wants to be a feminist tale of one woman overcoming the harm men have done to her—but as my viewing partner observed, the film comes off very anti-women. The 2 lead characters are written like utter bell ends, and are dressed down and uglied up. They’re completely unappealing to men visually and to women emotionally.
So who the hell was this movie for?
The Green Man I guess.
