The Beasts (As Bestas)

Inspired by a true story, this is a movie that rings a lot of bells to me. It is entirely set in verdant and mountainous Spanish region of Galicia, in a tiny hamlet dotted with 19-century quaint and yet rough-looking rural houses made of large and irregular stone blocks. It looks just like the village where my father comes from and where I have spent extended periods of time. Rural Galicians are often associated with inwardness and hostility towards outsiders. They have lived in the Celtic region for so long and are so deeply attached to their land that they often perceive newcomers as a threat. They enjoy tilting at windmills. The Beasts that this animosity to a whole new level.

The menacing Antas brothers Xan (Luis Zahera) and Lorenzo (Diego Anido) decide to take matters into their own hands when Antoine (Denis Menochet) and Olga (Marina Fois) buy a country house and a small piece of land. The kind and well-mannered French couple have the best of intentions: they wish to live a peaceful and self-sufficient life by growing their own vegetables in a quiet environment, away from their native France and their very own adult daughter Marie (Marie Colomb). They are keen to integrate with the locals, prompting them to learn Galician, the national language of the region and the only one spoken by the majority of the peasants.

Their efforts do not pay off. The Antas brothers make it vividly clear that the foreigners are not welcome. Their intimidation technique progressively escalates: they start with subtle verbal threats, then they poison the couple’s water well with two car batteries (thereby ruining their entire crop) and then on to physical violence (such as hitting their car). They routinely walk around with rifles. Galicians must indeed hate foreigners! I take little comfort in the fact that my father and I share our surname with the sociopathic villains (my real name is Victor Antas; I just choose to use a different surname for reasons not relevant to this film review). Incidentally, “antas” means “a large stone stuck to the ground and used to close a piece of land”. That’s nominative determinism at its best.

Language and family trivia aside, The Beasts is a gripping rural thriller with a duration of 130 minutes that fly by very quickly. That’s thanks to the effective script, powerful dialogues and sterling performances. Both Menichet and Fois convey an incredible sense of courage and resilience at the face of adversity. Fois goes even one step further. Her determination to immortalise her the bond with her husband is such that she sustains nearly a third of the film entirely on her own. Their visiting daughter Marie confronts the mother about her seemingly futile attitude, only to learn that sometimes people are driven by irrational and yet legitimate sentiments. She ultimately learns to respect her mother. Olga is not foolish. She’s just obstinate. But could her resolve lead her life and therefore the film to a happy and satisfactory conclusion?

Antonie and Olga’s life is a nightmare, and Alex de Pablo’s sombre cinematography helps the director Rodrigo Sorogoyen to illustrate their predicament as such. The outcome is a haunting tale of gratuitous hate and hostility that will stay with you for a long time.

The Beasts premiered at the 70th edition of the San Sebastian Donostia Zinemaldia International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. On all major VoD platforms on Friday, June 2nd.

The Candidate (El Reino)

Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s The Candidate is a political thriller, and as with many political thrillers, it is a little too long. But it does produce a juicy effigy, conspiratorial in division, to make for a strong night’s viewing, much of it genuinely thrilling and affecting at points. Manuel (Antonio de la Torre), a charismatic, louche politician finds himself the victim behind a leak involving a corruption scandal, which threatens to break his entire party and decimate a drowning man politically.

Conversations infused with cigarettes light the fiery backstage conversation. Manuel is threatened with thinly veiled references to his daughter’s Nati (Maria de Nati) well-being, causing moments of dubious self-reflection and introspection. Protracted smears seemingly chase the downtrodden man, ably and brilliantly articulated by the star of the seminal The Fury of a Patient Man. Antonio de la Torre, magnetic in sneer, smirk and sinewy appearance, divides charm, charisma with low lying latent violent demeanours.

Asking for a receptionist’s book, Manuel walks the thin line between commanding and threatening, shades of Joe Pesci’s past performances alarming the audiences. He’s a vigorous, virile lead and though the final third makes the unlikely leap action hero formula, Manuel is a prescient presence, presiding the pain, panache and poetry a man in his position and disposition must conquer. The silence looks good on de la Torre, yet the valiant speeches he gives exude the right level of character and charisma for the script’s valedictorian purposes.

Causes and causeways call on the Madrid pathways, leading to one of the film’s more explosive scenes. Manuel exits a taxi, towering under the towers which have serviced his wallet for decades. What follows is the film’s centre-piece, a tense talkative throwback to the Spanish films of the 1990s such as All About My Mother (Pedro Almodovar, 1999) and Butterfly’s Tongue (Jose Luis Cuerda, 1999), punchy in spirit and word, clenched fists dropped for worded hits, the barbed threat more realised than the physical punch.

Ana Wagener’s angry insults match Manuel’s finger pointed barbs, both decrying each other for their hypocrisies. Two political masterminds, mixed in their ministerial duties and demonstrations, drench one another in aggressive angular answers. The construct of human maturity displaying the actions of infantile immaturity, this telling moment shows how petty the political performances can shape left to their personal devices.

And yet the run time simply drags the audience’s attention at points, at times taking from one of Antonio de la Torre’s most rewarding performances. It needs splicing from the unnecessary amount of exposition, for a punchier product. A near-perfect film.

The Candidate (aka The Realm) is in cinemas and digital HD on Friday, August 2nd.