Warning: I won’t spell things out completely, but there are certainly some
spoilers towards the nature of the series and its ending in here!
Things are going swell for cellist Matilda (Lydia Wilson) and her musical
partner – who is more of a further appearing kind of guy in their promo
materials – Hal (Joel Fry). They seem to be hitting the big time as much as a
chamber music duo can today, with a big London show coming up and important
American tour dates in their future.
However, directly before the start of said big show, Lydia witnesses her
mother Janice (Joanna Scanlan) committing suicide by cutting her own throat
right in front of her. There weren’t any warning signs at all, and Matilda is
very distraught. Sadness and pain mixes with confusion when she finds a shoebox
on her mother’s bed. It is full of photos – apparently shot stalker-style – of
people Matilda doesn’t know, newspaper clips and a videotape with TV news
features about the disappearance of a small girl named Carys in a Welsh village
twenty years ago. Thinking about what these things mean is like an itch she
can’t stop scratching for Matilda, so she and Hal make their way to Wales, where
their questions open up old wounds and suggest increasingly more occult
explanations for what has happened to the girl and what all of this has to do
with Matilda.
This six part BBC/Netflix series is a mix of mystery and supernatural tale,
written in most part by its creator Kris Mrksa and directed by Mahalia Belo,
both with TV experience – Mrksa a lot of it - but with not much else coming up
on IMDB. It’s a genuinely excellent mixture, using the parallels between modern
mystery and crime tales about cold cases and what at first seems to be a ghost
story, but ending up in a somewhat different direction than you’d at first
expect, the ghost story rather elegantly escalating into an occult conspiracy
story.
The writing is not above using clichés, but this is more the case of the
piece using well-worn tropes because they fit its needs, not because it can’t
come up with something better. Even the crime standard of the lost child isn’t
the easy emotional in for the audience it sometimes tends to be but an intrinsic
part of this tale, for the story is indeed about it instead of using it
as an easy way to grab the viewer. The mystery is well enough constructed that
even once I had figured out the shape of the story relatively
early on (subjective thousand years of genre cinema and literature consumption
will do that to you), it was a pleasure to follow the series into the details,
the obvious ones and the less so. The characters are interesting throughout,
usually starting from a point a viewer will have a handle of as a cliché, but
eventually showing more complexity and facets that turn them into people. Very
often, the characters feel more like they are the people on whom the clichés
were based, rather than clichés.
I did find myself somewhat exasperated by Matilda’s approach to, well,
anything, (while still rooting for her) in part because of the socially anxious
person’s discomfort at someone being quite this direct and immune to what
strangers might think of her, but also because Requiem makes very
believable how someone genuinely hurt by her past and recent events might end up
bursting through human niceties, proprieties and other people’s lives in a way
that can only lead to something very bad for everyone involved. In fact, I
wouldn’t see things ending much better for our protagonist if there were nothing
supernatural involved here at all. At the same time, the way Wilson portrays
her, she never becomes a caricature, but a pained and sometimes frustrating
human being that really deserves better.
Speaking of the supernatural, one of the most pleasant surprises for me was
the actual nature of the beings involved, the clever way the show portrays and
uses them, basing them on a certain historical magician and his beliefs and
practices, without either getting too much into the minutiae of occult practices
nor ending up with people in robes muttering about Satan. Obviously, used and
portrayed as present but mysterious and not truly understandable but us humans,
these beings are rather disturbing not just because they are involved in
spookiness, but because of the ideas about the cosmos they represent.
Belo’s direction is generally of the slick, contemporary TV style that may
not have as much money to work with as a blockbuster, but that never feels cheap
and suggests not the classic picture of some work-for-hire hack quickly shooting
away at a script she doesn’t care about. The direction is as composed and
thought through as you’d wish from every director worth your time as a
viewer.
Some of the horror sequences will not be exactly new to the discerning viewer
of this sort of thing, but Belo’s handling of Matilda’s shifting states of
consciousness, and the intersection between the more visible horror effects and
those that are just in her mind or might just be in other characters’ minds is
flawless, and often wonderfully creepy without ever only wanting to creep you
out. However, this is not the kind of tale that cops out on the supernatural in
the end. As a matter of fact, the ending, while elegantly not showing a
lot things, is consequent and rather brutal in this regard, while also keeping
with what the series has set up about its supernatural world before.
So, Requiem is a rather lovely piece of work.
Sunday, September 9, 2018
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