Helmed by Bristol sound co-founder Geoff Barrow, this scabrous though undernourished first film casts a critical gaze on the ecstasy-fueled club scene. Venal pillhead David (the actor) first robs an unconscious dealer, then in a later recollection tries to burgle his own parents. Before you can say, he's overturned in the wreckage of his car in a woodland – and subject to the wrathful eye of the Poacher (vocalist Jason Williamson). Refusing to extricate David, with impatience toward city dwellers, he is broken Britain personified: “You’re one of those noisy cunts from up on the heath.”
A Shaky Start and Grimly Amusing Duel
Game gets off to a shaky start, spending too long on pedantically chronicling David’s attempt to free himself from his safety harness, while clumsily segueing into past scenes of his normal activities. The central theme – that the ecstasy generation were mainly focused on number one – is firmly made. But these vignettes are too thin to properly prime us for what to expect when the Woodsman turns up, enraged after David strangles his dog. Nevertheless, a darkly funny duel takes hold – David eager to get away; the Poacher denying his container of scrumpy, intent on soaking him instead in resentful talk. Williamson, exuding heavy threat in the role, is reminiscent of Michael Smiley.
Visual Flair and Music Video Sensibility
Just a single key story turn, but it leads to a hilariously staged rampage on the forest trails that dips close to folk horror. Director John Minton at last unleashes with his showy imagery: where he was hunkered down doing impressionistic closeups of bugs in headlights in the opening part, he now lets rip with the full lysergic grand display, soundtracked to a wild organ version of Ravel’s Boléro. Game feels more like an elongated music video than a complete narrative, but there’s enough bold visuals to suggest that Minton could emulate Jonathan Glazer, Garth Jennings et al into successfully graduating from the UK video industry.
Game is in UK and Irish cinemas from 17 November.
