Julia Decournau’s first film is a big subject of conversation in the world of cinema. Indeed, during its projection at the Toronto International Film Festival, two spectators of the midnight séance fainted when they saw the very gory images the film presents. If it is true that the movie is not really “appetizing”, we still have to relativise the way the medias are depicting it. Indeed, way more than a gory, scandalous and unscrupulous horror movie, Grave is a jewel of cleverness that presents subtle references, has a brute aesthetic and reinvents the genre while suggesting a revival of the French cinema.
The film tells the story of Justine, a young gifted student who integrates the veterinary school where her parents studied before her and where her sister is in second year. During her hazing, Justine has to eat raw meat, which disturbs her a lot because she grew up in a vegetarian family. She then realizes that her body reacts in a strange way to this ingestion and discovers a voracious appetite for human meet.
An exploitation film that does not try to exploit its subject
The theme of cannibalism is very popular in the genre of exploitation film (exploitation films avoid production expenditures while relying on attracting- generally violent or sexual- aspects in order to reach a commercial success.) Consequently, and taking into account the reputation that the medias give to the movie, it is not surprising that Grave seems to be a stupide gory film. Yet, it is not the case at all. In her first oeuvre, Decournau aims principally to make her audience reflect about the perception of its own body, about student hazing and about the initiatory discovery of their sexuality by virgin teenagers.
A hybrid film
The movie is thus a hybrid, just like its mutant heroine. Indeed, it mixes the themes of horror movie, obviously; but also those of experimental movies as Decournau’s main goal is to offer a sensorial reflexion about the body, both the ones present onscreen and the ones of the spectators in the room; of familial drama through the exploration of fraternal links; of western because it depicts the discovery and the conquest of an hostile space; and of comedy since, thanks to the mise-en-scène, to the way the director plays with the audience’s expectations and to the music, the film is really funny.
The actresses’ ball
The actors, and especially Garance Marillier and Ella Rumpf, are excellent and contribute to the success of the film because they make this story sound credible and also save some scenes that could have seemed grotesque. The way Decournau directs these young actors is remarkable: she creates choreography for these young bodies and thus achieve to unite grace and delicatessen to the gory and the horror. The work on the cinematography contributes as well to make the film look enchanting despite its unglamorous subject by mixing a very naturalistic style for the scene of class and hazing, and a style way more evaporated and poetical for the scenes of parties and “metamorphoses”.
Some clever tracks of reflexion
To summarize, Decournau’s film is really clever and can be seen at multiple levels. Those who are looking for thrills will be satisfied to face a true horror movie that stimulates the bodies. Those who wish to go further will appreciate the metaphors and the genius’ ideas that sprinkle the film and that offer tracks of reflexion: the fact that Justine wants to join a veterinary school is interesting as it allows the comparison between the (similar) way the hazers treat the hazeds and the animals that they work with. The very animalistic approach to sexuality reinforces this comparison between teenagers and animals. Finally, the choice of cannibalism as the main theme to explore the discovery of the flesh, both in a sexual and a “gustative” way, proves that Decournau conceptualized cleverly her film. More than a banal horror movie, she offers to her spectators a sensorial and intellectual experience, and signs the revival of the young independent French film industry.
Raw:
Directed by: Julia Decournau
With: Garance Marillier, Ella Rumpf, Rabah Nait Oufella