Tale as old as time?
First full-length directorial debut for Michael Pearce, Beast is a British psychological drama set on the island of Jersey. The story focuses on Moll (Jessie Buckley) and her tempestuous love affair with local rogue and ruffian Pascal Renouf (Johnny Flynn).
As part of an important backdrop to Moll and Pascal’s story, we learn that there is a serial killer targeting young girls on the island, with Pascal coming under suspicion. From there things see-saw as Moll herself struggles with whether or not he is the killer and whether she should be falling in love with him.
On the surface, it doesn’t sound very unique, but as the title might suggest, there is an undercurrent of a dark fairytale. Moll lives with her parents, her father has deteriorated mentally, while her mother is hawkish and harsh at every turn, saying “let’s not fight” after unleashing a barrage of condescending parenting. As more of Moll’s past behaviour comes to light, we see her innocent facade slip. She’s consumed by her love for the bad boy who her mother doesn’t approve of, but is all too aware of the danger, revelling it at first before questioning her decisions in life.
The setting, too, is picturesque, with sandy shorelines and deep woods to explore with the central characters. In comparison, Moll’s family home is pristine, sparse and angular, but this is not a place she is trusted – out in the wild however, she can writhe in the mud, more at home with her tormented psyche. Not quite an alien world, the island life definitely gives you a little something different to anything you could set on the mainland. This theme of our wild nature being explored is also subtly hinted at when Moll and Pascal first meet, with Moll pulling out a book on wild animals from the glove box of his beaten Land Rover.
Jessie Buckley brings a tense and frantic undercurrent to the role, with fiery moments taking you from quaint local girl to the brink of something dark and almost demonic. She’s the stand-out performer over the length of the film, because just as you aren’t sure about the nature of Pascal, you also are less and less sure about Moll’s stability. You’ll initially want to side with her against her mother, but as she moves further away, you feel yourself getting anxious about her behaviour. Psychologically taut, Buckley never overplays her hand, always leaving you wondering what she’ll do next or whether she’ll finally explode like a well shook can of booze.
‘The situation is both real and yet somehow just edges into the otherworldly’
Her opposite, Johnny Flynn, also delivers a nuanced performance. His capable, but ostracised and slightly feral characterisation brings about swings in opinion, too. At one moment you feel he’s a misunderstood, while something about his thin smile and glazed eyes don’t quite match his boyish crop of blonde hair. He does little to drag Moll from her family, he merely shows up, his presence the temptation. Simple mannerisms keep his character on the border of being the attractive loner and the dirty beast.
The film seemed to ask the question: where do we go when we have nothing else left, and did we ever have anything in the first place? Moll’s family never seem to quite accept her, describing her as a “wild one” over dinner, and while it is meant in jest, it only serves to push her away. Left to their own devices, Moll and Pascal get on well, but in civilisation their bullish behaviour eats away at the relationship. Pascal, on the other hand, begins wild and clearly isn’t comfortable being anything else.
Michael Pearce directs this film in an unfussy fashion, softening the colours of the landscapes and ensuring we’re up in Moll and Pascal’s faces for ambiguous looks. He also does well at placing Moll as the princess-with-a-twist, one where the reality of her situation is so frightening – whether self-inflicted or not – that even her dreams can be mistaken for reality. One sequence, where Moll wakes to find the patio door slid open, net curtain billowing in the dark night, serves as symbolism; the first time, she closes the door, but when it happens again later she confidently strides out into the darkness.
With the amount of times you’ll go back and forth on the true nature of both these characters – and whether or not they should be together – this isn’t quite how your classic fairytale goes, but it will keep you firmly planted in your seat. The romance is rugged and relatable, but can equally be scary.
Anchored by fantastic central performances, the situation is both real and yet somehow just edges into the otherworldly. I’m looking forward to giving this a second watch, for reasons that will become obvious if you see it.