Free in Deed is certainly a tough film to watch. Exploring themes such as religion and special needs, writer, director and co-editor Jake Mahaffy does not shy away from controversy. In a raw foreword, recorded on skype for Glasgow Film Festival, he simply encourages viewers to disconnect from personal opinion and to embrace the ideal that the film does not reflect his own personal views. An opening statement that felt like he was making excuses for creating the film which I felt was unnecessary considering the film itself is unapologetic. Starring David Harewood, this film depicted the loss of hope, faith and life in way that has me distracted even hours later.
The film documents the life of a young woman and her two children, one of whom has Autism. Based on actual events, she turns to her local church and it's resident healer for help with her son. The film explores the unfortunate trend within some religious communities of using exorcism and spiritual healing to cure individuals with special needs. The 'storefront church' trend that is sweeping American small towns promoting local bishops and 'healers' and the depiction of the dangerous and in the case of Free in Deed deadly consequences of using these practices on young and disabled children is central to the film. The continuing rise of disenfranchised masses who have turned to religion to both heal and revitalise their lives is worrying from an admittedly privileged point of view. But understanding that millions of people do believe that God is the answer to their problems and that devoted worship will result in physical manifestations of God's love in return is key to understanding some of the wider social issues that are taking hold of America today. In a world that is currently so lost, is it bizarre to look for a higher power to right our wrongs? This film is a brutal display of a popular belief system in central bible belt America and other countries.
A film without a glimpse of hope in any of it's characters lives, Free in Deed strikes a particularly heart breaking tone in it's depiction of Melva's young daughter. Not only does she witness the cruel exorcism sessions but she mimics them with her doll and sits angeliclly, unaware of the implications of what she sees. From a film making perspective the deliberate and unashamed guiding from the cinematography was especially interesting. It has some of the most obvious displays of forced attention I've seen on screen in a long time and was cleverly utilised to show focus on the power of belief. This was particular choice resulted in what felt like slow paced film that had been weighed down by its heavy subject matter. The use of quick cuts and slow motion to emphasise the slow passage of time and draw in audience attention only heightened the tense atmosphere created by the plot.
Admittedly my favourite film from this year's Glasgow Film Festival, Berlin Syndrome is frightening, stressful and intriguing. It's the sort of film that Taken wishes it could be and that Room tried to portray the aftermath of. Director Cate Shortland has really outdone herself in creating a film and characters that oozes tension and discomfort. The plot follows Claire, an Australian tourist, as she finds herself being held captive by her one night stand, Andi. Teresa Palmer leads a cast of practically two. Her sunken eyes and greasy complexion is a far cry from her recent role in Hacksaw Ridge. I'd like to think the transition from love interest to lost hope was a conscious decision. She stars opposite Max Riemelt who is the epitome of disturbed and confused evil. This is the first film I've seen Riemelt in but he has appeared in an array of, mostly German, TV movies and films.
Full of unanswered questions the film alludes to the mysteries behind kidnappings and abductions. The audience questions throughout about Andi and who he kept before. We are never told what triggered the escalation in behaviour or even what role does the lack of a mother play in Andi's condition. The film does not shy away from it's title's similarity to Stockholm Syndrome. Particularly topical these days with the reboot of Beauty and the Beast next month. After his father dies, Andi leaves Claire in the apartment alone with no power for multiple days, with the exact time scale not determinable. When he finally returns the two have a moment of mutual dependence on each other with Claire seemingly willing to be intimate for the first time since she discovered she was trapped. This scene is the moment of transition for Claire from fighting to flee to fighting to survive and unfortunately, surviving the scenario involves accepting the role she plays in his life.
The time scale, as hinted at above, is an underlying theme in the film. With most of the film playing out during an unknown time scale, with the exception of the clear Christmas and New Years Eve scenes seen later in the film. This is an interesting approach that was perhaps used to be a commentary on the time spans that abductees are kept and how they can often be unaware that months and even years have passed. With any good abduction story, the most compelling scenes are the attempted escapes and moments of possible rescue. Each scene gets within arms length of freedom before the story is pulled backwards as Claire is literally pulled back into the apartment by Andi. As a self confessed fan of all things horror, tension building and fear inducing, I'm embarrassed to admit that I've never felt physically sick from the tension in a film before. Berlin Syndrome did just that. I left Screen One of Glasgow's Film Theatre and was happy to walk home in the fresh air in the hopes my stomach would stop doing summersaults... and yes, that was a subtle reference to Cate Shortland's other fantastic drama Somersault from 2004.
