REVIEW: DVD Release: Prey

Film: Prey
Year of production: 2010
UK Release date: 6th June 2011
Distributor: Entertainment One
Certificate: 18
Running time: 80 mins
Director: Antoine Blossier
Starring: Bérénice Bejo, Grégoire Colin, Isabelle Renauld, François Levantal, Joseph Malerba
Genre: Drama/Adventure/Horror/Thriller/Mystery
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France
Language: French

Review by: Calum Reed

As a pocket-size 80-minute feature, Antoine Blossier’s Prey, a film with a roaming sense of conviction towards its sequences of horror, is actually fairly compact. Blossier pulls no punches in his debut directorial outing, offering a unique spin on age-old themes. One of the many customs of horror cinema lies in familial drama - going all the way back to Jamie Lee Curtis’ maniacal brother trying to kill her in Halloween, and up to the infidelity and love triangle in 2004’s terrific The Descent; people beset on by predators are, to some degree, already unsettled in their personal lives.

The family dynamic in Prey reinforces this narrative staple of murky backstory, pitting Grégoire Colin (formerly of Beau Travail) as Nathan, a meek accountant up against the tyranny of his prosperous in-laws.

Married to Claire (Bérénice Bejo), he is growing increasingly frustrated with her obligations towards the family’s lucrative pesticide business, and particularly the dependence placed upon her by domineering father/employer Nicolas (François Levanthal). Nathan wants nothing more than to have a child and settle down, while Claire remains wary of adding distance between her and the family.

A gathering at their country mansion gets off to a shaky start, as rampaging deer from a surrounding forest threaten the life of Claire’s father. The male members of the household (including younger son David) venture into the forest to surmise why the animals are behaving erratically, and with the intent to extinguish any potential threats that they encounter.

The expedition unsurprisingly does not run smoothly, and as tempers flare between the gun-wielding alphas, they discover that the primary danger is not each other but the volatile, predatory wildlife lurking in the undergrowth…


Prey is being heavily promoted as a special effects coup of sorts, provided by a Hollywood team somewhat renowned for their visual flair. This doesn’t translate as a particularly valuable commodity on-screen: in terms of production values, Prey appears to have much more in common with minimal-budget, visceral horror films (which is not at all an insult), and rather than manipulate through shock-tactic editing, endeavours to instil tension through internal politics. A canny use of hand-held camera has been the benchmark since 1999’s unsteady Blair Witch adventure, and this indie woodland descendant doesn’t deviate much from that train of thought.

As these men venture deeper into the forest, the question begs: are they targets because they’re ungrateful with their own lives, or just too morally-tarnished as people? It might be that we simply can’t bear for a family with two-point-four children to perish, but biochemical magnates and ageing tycoons are within the realm of acceptable ‘victims’. The further Prey goes, it becomes a lot looser in its desire to expose the allegorical goals of the narrative, eventually revealing its lack of sophistication through utilising platitudinous ideas about society’s preoccupation with land and money, and its ruthless need to preserve it. Moreover, the introduction of Erin Brockovich-style injustice into its explanation of events - as an emotional device designed to provoke ecological outrage and further lessen the appeal of these men - is a shade disappointing.

The exhilarating appeal of Prey lies in its grounded depiction of aggression as a product of legitimate animalistic instinct, and its thematic consideration of what constitutes a ‘predator’. Unconcerned with florid displays of violence, Blossier charts the primal regression of his desperate cast (not unlike Marshall in The Descent, incidentally) and in the heart of this quest for survival unearths a rousing, unexpected reality within the frenzy. This reality reaches its peak when the behaviour of one of the characters severely compromises our view of them, but is executed with a daring dose of finality and allays with the primitive descension of the no-holds-barred war.

With more time afforded to exploring the interworking of the family (the action element of the film begins less than ten minutes in), there would be much more of a symbiotic value to some of the relationships in the film. As it is, we don’t sense enough of the characters’ deepseated traits and attitudes to become immersed in the domestic strife. Nathan’s relationship with Claire, for instance, is founded upon a solitary conversation between the two, and it isn’t fleshed out much more beyond that; while Nicolas remains a corporate antagonist used to punctuate the film’s social commentary. Prey asks questions about what standard of behaviour – if any – we should expect from people essentially out for themselves, and whether we should buy into its ropey, cynical conclusions on human nature. In that regard, one thing is surely for certain: the film has a pretty cutthroat advocacy of reprehensibility and karma.


Prey squanders opportunities to flaunt its grittier aspects, neither fully content to explore the motivations of either of the two female characters, or exploit the situational drama of the opening act to make its issues worthwhile. It’s undeniably impacting as a primitive horror, but what is atoned for by a fascinating shift in tone has already primarily been undone by overt, weary nods to allegory and is finally hampered by a worrying late fascination with rectitude. The main moral of this story is surprisingly not to stay out of the forest. CR

REVIEW: DVD Release: 35 Shots Of Rum

Film: 35 Shots Of Rum
Release date: 19th October 2009
Certificate: 12
Running time: 100 mins
Director: Claire Denis
Starring: Alex Descas, Mati Diop, Nicole Dogue, Grégoire Colin, Jean-Christophe Folly
Genre: Drama
Studio: New Wave
Format: DVD
Country: France/Germany

35 Shots Of Rums is a minimalist study of love, and the sometimes inevitable separation with which love comes hand in hand. Claire Denis gently weaves a tale of intimacy between a group of people living in the same apartment building in the Parisian suburbs. The film was well received by critics after its debut at the Toronto International Film Festival.

35 Shots Of Rum follows a brief but undefined passage in the lives of Lionel (Alex Descas), a widowed train driver, and his grown daughter, Joséphine (Mati Diop), who live in a block of flats in the suburbs of Paris.

We are introduced to Joséphine's love interest, Noé (Gregoire Colin), who lives upstairs, and just as the absence of her mother is an ever-present spectre hanging over proceedings, so too is Noé's inevitable departure, as he dips in and out of the action due to work commitments. Although Noé's devotion to Joséphine is often questionable, Lionel struggles to come to terms with the fact that Joséphine will at some point fly the nest, whether it is with or without Noé. Lionel is also the recipient of what seems to be unrequited love from Gabrielle (Nicole Dogue), a taxi driver who also lives in the same building and clearly has feelings for Lionel.

The film follows the paradox of Joséphine and Noé’s blossoming romance, along with Lionel’s loosening grasp of his relationship with his daughter. As the characters' lives delicately interweave, we are introduced to minor characters that gently push the narrative along, enforcing the theme of separation which Denis skilfully keeps at the forefront of the piece. The climax of the action allows the audience to understand the true meaning of the 35 shots, and ultimately concludes the story in a vein in keeping with the piece's slow pace and minimalist style...


To put it bluntly, this film is slow. However, this is not a weakness, but rather adds weight to the film. Denis is dealing with real life, and unlike Hollywood, real life isn't lived at a frenetic pace with enough dialogue to make a script the size of War And Peace. Dialogue is sparse and no words are wasted, with Denis preferring to tell the story through her actors' demeanour, highlighted by expert camera work. For the majority of the opening ten minutes of the film, we are given subtle music set to the backdrop of trains criss-crossing their way through Paris, as well as a patient browse around the protagonists' home. This allows us to settle into the tempo of the film, and ease into the steady lives that Lionel and Joséphine lead.

Descas and Diop both play their parts in exemplary fashion. The intimacy between the two is beautifully crafted, so much so that it is at first perfectly feasible that the two are lovers. Descas finds the perfect balance between being a loving father who wants his daughter to be independent, and a man struggling with the realisation that he is about to lose his closest companion. Much of this should be credited to Denis whom, as writer, only gives Lionel a solitary line in the whole film with which to express his feelings towards his daughter's imminent departure - therefore forcing Descas to portray the emotion through body language alone. The same can be said for the rest of the cast, who play each part, no matter how small, with the level of skill required from such a thin script.

Denis shies away from informing the audience to such an extent that it affects the film in an adverse way. We never fully understand the relationship between Lionel and Gabrielle, yet both are main characters within the plot. We take a brief trip with Lionel and Josephine to visit the grave of their late loved one, where we meet a lady who is potentially a friend, or sister of Joséphine's mother. A tragedy which is important to one the central characters in the film is dealt with in a brief manner, and with no explanation whatsoever.

Along with unexplained instances within the plot, there is also a tendency for scenes to succeed each other in a rather awkward and clumsy fashion. Again, as a result of this, we are left wondering why we are now being shown a different setting, and being thrown straight into the midst of the action. This happens regularly within the film, and although this does not pose as much of a problem as the aforementioned holes in the plot, it adds a mild sense of confusion to proceedings and could have easily been avoided by adding small segments into the beginning of some scenes


35 Shots Of Rum stands out as one of the best contemporary films to deal with the minutiae of suburban life. Its main themes are dealt with by the deftest and most gentle touches, even if the overall lack of slickness to the film somewhat overshadows its many virtues. This film should definitely be seen, though, even if it is just to appreciate Alex Descas and Mati Diop giving a master class in the art of depicting subtle intimacy. CPA