For some, snake-handling churches might just be an urban legend. But for those of us who know they exist, Them That Follow paints an eerie portrait of the realities of this fringe religious community. It's a belief system -- usually based in a speaking-in-tongues Pentecostal congregation -- that dares its practitioners to handle the devil's pets in order to prove their faith. After all, God is stronger than nature, and will surely deliver them from the venom of rattlesnakes. But maybe not from their own hubris, or stupidity.
We are immediately introduced to Mara, played by Alice Englert, the daughter of the town preacher. I say "town", but this remote community lost in the mountains of Appalachia scarcely resembles anything you might call incorporated. Mara is being courted by Garret (Lewis Pullman), but we're never quite sure if he really wants her or if he just wants to get closer to her father Lemuel (Walton Goggins). Lemuel uses his religious fervor to hold sway over the town, and fiercely guards his church and its serpentine secrets. This controlling environment quickly becomes hostile as we learn Mara is pregnant.
But this is the kind of story that can only go from bad to worse. The father of her child-to-be, Augie (Thomas Mann), is an ex-member of the church, and so is a sort of social outcast. Before Mara can be given to Garret, her virginity needs to be ascertained by Hope Slaughter (a lovely name, don't you think, played by the equally lovely Olivia Colman), the mother of Augie, who at once understands the girl's situation. Hope intends to keep Mara's secret, but shames Augie into repentance. Augie returns to the church, no doubt to make things easier for Mara and everyone, but Lemuel sees an opportunity to strike.
The film feels like an indie adaptation of a documentary or expose, and uses its setting, lighting, and design to claustrophobic effect. The "hollers" of this community are dark, heavily wooded and home to messes of deadly snakes. They frame the ramshackle buildings like a Dark Romantic proscenium, indicating that all is not well with the spiritual health of the land, and so the physical appearance suffers as a result. As Macbeth would say, light thickens, and the oppressive church structure and home interiors become increasingly menacing. The effect of these techniques is to close in around the viewer, helping us feel as trapped as Mara.
And, because of the blatant gravity of these elements, we also dread the inevitable, which makes the film almost unbearably monotonous. While this is no doubt intentional, it is also not a result of the screenplay, which could have used more than a little help. The seriousness of this film denies the possibility of even passing dry humor and never dips into black comedy, and so it is a mostly joyless affair. Even Winter's Bone had the emotional awareness of itself to include some bleak moments of absurd fun. Not so here, where the film asks us to peer into profound horror without ever actually taking us there. Thankfully, the writing/directing team are more visually skilled than narratively, so we feel the horror without being consciously aware of it.
As a final note, this movie won me over because, although it threatens a sort of hicksploitation (it fits better than redneck-sploitation), it never quite reaches that point. Instead, it becomes a sort of dirge for the poor and uneducated in oppressive rural America before its explosive climax. After wondering the whole film whether Mara will succumb to Lemuel or Garret or both, she rises above her situation royally and rescues herself and Augie -- poor, sweet Augie -- nonverbally declaring her family and home to be morally bankrupt. It's an unexpectedly positive turn at the end of the story that makes you feel slightly less icky about the whole affair.
No comments:
Post a Comment