Helmed by Bristol sound co-founder Geoff Barrow, this scabrous if slight debut feature turns a sceptical eye on 90s rave culture. Venal pillhead David (the actor) first robs an unconscious dealer, then in another flashback tries to burgle his own family home. In no time, he's overturned in the remains of his car in a woodland – and subject to the wrathful eye of the Woodsman (vocalist Jason Williamson). Refusing to extricate David, with impatience toward townies, he is a fractured society embodied: “You’re one of those noisy cunts from up on the heath.”
Unsteady Opening and Grimly Amusing Duel
The film begins uncertainly, spending too long on meticulously detailing David’s attempt to extricate himself from his seatbelt, while awkwardly transitioning into flashbacks of his normal activities. The central theme – that the rave-era youth were mainly focused on number one – is clearly conveyed. But these brief episodes are too thin to properly prime us for what to expect when the Poacher arrives, enraged after David strangles his dog. Still, a darkly funny standoff takes hold – David desperate to escape; the Woodsman denying his container of cider, determined to dousing him instead in embittered discourse. Williamson, projecting heavy threat in the role, is reminiscent of Michael Smiley.
Visual Flair and Music Video Vibe
There is only one key story turn, but it leads to a hilariously staged rampage on the woodland paths that dips close to folk horror. Director John Minton finally gets to go all in with his showy imagery: where he was hunkered down doing impressionistic closeups of insects in the light in the early stages, 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 strident imagery to suggest that Minton could emulate Jonathan Glazer, Garth Jennings and others into making the leap from the Brit music promo scene.
Game is in British and Irish theaters from November 17.
