Men (2022)

For those of you who have been with me since I started this blog almost a year ago now, the following shouldn’t sound terribly new and original: a woman struggling in the aftermath of trauma decides to take a nice vacation out in the country to heal, only to get swallowed up in the world of the “old ways” by a bunch of shadowy locals that seem to have very specific plans for her. Usually, this is for the purposes of some ritual (Robin Redbreast) or because the locals wish to make the woman a permanent resident (Midsommar,) but in Alex Garland’s Men, it’s for even more eldritch reasons: the patriarchy simply can’t tolerate a strong independent woman enjoying herself.

But hold that thought for now. Yes, Men is the latest in a wave of recent folk horror revival films, and in that sense: it’s got the goods. There is no shortage of breathtaking rural imagery, and a major figure from ancient folklore makes an appearance. Going into the woods is always punished, and the village locals all talk behind their hands and act super suspiciously. Besides several annoying scenes early in the film of product placement for Ford Fiesta, Airpods, Macbook Pro, and Zoom that really clash with earthen imagery, scholars of folk horror won’t have much to complain about here.

What makes this film so unique in the folk horror canon is its adherence to metaphor. While something like Midsommar (which Men resembles quite often and was clearly inspired by) works mostly in the allegorical sense, it still revolves around a literal story of a literal cult killing people. Men doesn’t even bother with this. While there are hints that Garland may have thought up literal explanations for all the events in the story, he explicitly never confirms or denies anything. A post-credits scene suggests at least that the events of the film are absolutely not a dream or the result of a fractured mind, but if that’s an important clarification, it still doesn’t feel like much.

So this is something of an anti-audience film. The classic “critics love it, audiences hate it” film. It not only defies explanation, but it asks for careful reflection long after the credits roll. Plus, the act of trying to keep up with it is extremely disorienting in a way that reminds me of other audience-alienating films like mother! though I personally find that to be one of the film’s biggest strengths. It’s nightmarish, and given the larger-than-life subject it tackles, it’s an appropriate way to present this perspective on toxic masculinity. I’ve said this many times, but remember: horror isn’t supposed to be realistic or politically correct: it’s supposed to be irrational as our deepest fears often are. What makes this film unique is that it really begs the question: just how irrational are the fears explored here? Sure, all men aren’t part of an evil hivemind that seeks to control any and all women they come across, but sometimes it can really seem that way, can’t it? So this is a smart area to mine for uncomfortable material. 

As far as the presentation of Men goes, I find it’s a bit too clean on the whole. The scenery is robbed of a bit of its natural texture by reliance on stark digital lensing, but that’s an extremely small nitpick. What isn’t a nitpick is that this film’s use of exclusively digital effects for everything from gross body horror, to gore, to swapping actors’ faces just looks bad. Like, yes, I can overlook it, but it steals the thunder from at least one scene that should have been a benchmark for body horror but instead just looks expensive. Like a render for a video game trailer or something. And that’s when it doesn’t just look like a Robert Zemekis film. Riddle me this: how did Aphex Twin’s Come to Daddy video look so great in the nineties, yet this film from two decades later can’t get that same effect to look even remotely convincing, even when the actors are all standing stock still?

I do like the way many of the outdoor scenes later in the film are either shot on elaborate sound stages or are digitally altered to look that way, as it reminds me of a modern take on something like Kwaidan. Everything looks natural, but also somehow too “composed,” with studio lighting framing everything against exaggerated, digitally altered skies, a strange dynamic that is exploited often in the film’s second half.

The best aspect of the whole film, however, is the incredible score. Combining layers of pitched choral chanting, sometimes melodic, sometimes not, with typical ambient music works wonders in both the film’s quiet, reflective moments and moments of pure terror. It’s chilling stuff, and it really helps the atmosphere feel primordial. Performances are excellent, especially from our lead during many moments of pure melodrama, but the biggest commendations must be paid to mister Rory Kinnear, who plays all but a few characters in the film. The effects to make such a thing possible aren’t always convincing (neither, in fact, is the hair and makeup) and the attempt can seem a little gimmicky, but there’s no denying that it’s motivated by the story and ultimately, works. The fact that it might take the audience any time at all to cotton onto it is really a true feat of filmmaking.

In the end, Men is a film that is the polar opposite of a crowd-pleaser, both for its social implications and lack of tangible narrative. For nitpickers like me, a number of modern annoyances like bad effects and shameless product placement do drag the whole thing down a bit, but I still find myself unreservedly on the film’s side. Yes, I did leave the film wishing there had been more, but that’s what good art does; it leaves you hungry. Like the many other bizarre cinematic nightmares that it resembles (many of them also published by A24,) the best advice I have for prospective viewers is to go in with an open mind, and to not let the act of trying to ‘figure the film out’ get in the way of enjoying the ride it takes you on. It’s provocative, disorienting, and elusive, but so are nightmares; and like the best nightmares, this one is bursting with latent meaning, begging to be mined by those who watch.