THE FACELESS MAN Review – Scary Thoughts Down Under
Starring Sophie Thurling, Lucas Pittaway, and Andy McPhee
Written by James Di Martino
Directed by James Di Martino
Even though I’m technically taking a break from my coverage of the most excellent Horrible Imaginings Film Festival 2020, as I approach this review, I’m keeping in mind the wise words of festival programmer Miguel Rodriguez: “films are the start of the conversation, not the end”. I am also very aware of the fact that, even when something doesn’t click with me, it may be the best thing ever made for someone else. The Faceless Man connected with me on many levels, while losing me on others, but I pray you read this review (and any review, really), so that you may decide for yourself whether the connections made would be the same.
While I consider myself a fairly metropolitan horror fan, always eager to check out other cultures’ approaches to the genre, I must confess that Ozploitation isn’t what I’m most familiar with. In fact, in recent years, the closest contact I’ve had with the wonderful uniqueness that is Australian culture has come from the Mighty Car Mods YouTube channel, F1 drivers Mark Webber and Daniel Ricciardo, and Charley Boorman’s travel documentaries. This lack of familiarity is what made me jump at the chance to review The Faceless Man: I want to know more. I want to learn. I also knew that the film touched upon topics that are of relevance to me, personally.
Little did I know that I’d be jumping into a deep end of depression, cancer survival and drug abuse. As you can probably tell by the brutally succint summary I just made, James Di Martino’s film isn’t a lighthearted romp. In fact, heavily inspired by Di Martino’s own battle with cancer, The Faceless Man draws many similarities with genre staples like The Babadook. Not only is the atmosphere in the film broody, but the use of artistic metaphors to convey the struggles of battling with a life-threatening illness make this Australian film pack a mighty dramatic punch.
The story revolves around Emily, a cancer survivor whose friend decides to organize a weekend getaway due to the looming possibility of a relapse. Emily’s issues with her family, as well as some idiotic friends and less-than-friendly neighbors, propel forward a loose plot that is more about the characters than it is about a grand three-act screenplay.
I like character explorations, and when struggles with mental and physical health become protagonists in their own right, I cannot help but feel connected with the happenings on-screen in a very personal way. What does this have to do with Ozploitation’s brand of backwoods humor and gore by the bucketloads? Well, that’s where it gets a bit tricky.
Had they been two separate films, the Ozploitation portions and the more serious sections would have been amazing experiences to behold. I had a good laugh at some of the jokes, and the guts and general viscera that took to the sky were as fine as I’d ever seen. I just feel like the effort to marry a serious, dramatic character study with the gags ‘n guts of the ‘ploitation subgenres wasn’t fully successful. Even with the fantastic Reservoir Dogs homage thrown in.
Now, remember when I asked you to use your own judgement? This is where that comes into play. Your experience might be totally different from mine. And this goes for every review, ever. So, if you feel like irreverent jokes and comic stereotypes can lessen the emotional stress of dealing with such serious subject matter, I’m not here to tell you that you’re wrong.
But it is my job to tell you how I feel and what I think about the film, as well as what the film has to offer. And I think it can offer up quite a lot.
Aside from the aforementioned plot beats, another highlight for me were beats of another kind: the soundtrack and soundscaping of this film are incredible. Those of you familiar with my writing might know that I’m a sucker for movies that give sound the importance and prominence it deserves. The Faceless Man is a perfect example of this, as its masterful soundscape adds to it an increase in enjoyment in order of magnitude superior to standard indie horror fares.
I am not a person who believes in many absolutes, so I never wish to pass binary judgement on anything, much less art. To me, art is neither inherently good nor inherently bad. It may be possible to quantify whether it succeeds in its technical execution, but we must accept that it isn’t our job to determine whether it succeeds at being art. I don’t mean to sound holier-than-thou, but I honestly harbor such respect for films that reviews, while necessary for the industry’s survival, aren’t always my favorite resources to create or consume.
Without any further bumbling, then, I leave you with this final thought: The Faceless Man has an important message that really clicked with me. The movie looks great and it sounds far, far better than I thought it would. I did not care for the union of subject matter and Ozploitation shenaningans, but just because that’s the case for me, it doesn’t mean it’ll be the case for you.
So, as it’s usually my modus operandi, I suggest you decide for yourselves. My job, as I see it, is not to tell you whether a film is good or not. I have the more imporatant and delicate task of letting you know what a flick aims to accomplish, and then allow you make up your own mind as to whether it’s the kind of art you’d like to partake in. At the end of the day, I partook in The Faceless Man, and I am glad I did.
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The Faceless Man
Summary
The Faceless Man is an artful exploration of grief, while also serving a bucketload of gore and guts. It succeeds at many things, while slightly faltering at others. Which of these successes click with you, is a highly personal opinion.
