Produced by Portishead co-founder Geoff Barrow, this sharp-edged though slight first film casts a critical gaze on 90s rave culture. Self-serving drug user David (Marc Bessant) first robs an passed-out supplier, then in a later recollection tries to burgle his own family home. Before you can say, he's upside down in the remains of his car in a forest – and subject to the wrathful eye of the Poacher (vocalist Jason Williamson). Refusing to extricate David, with impatience toward townies, he is broken Britain personified: “You’re one of those noisy cunts from up on the heath.”
A Shaky Start and Darkly Funny Confrontation
Game gets off to a shaky start, spending too long on pedantically chronicling David’s attempt to free himself from his seatbelt, while clumsily segueing into past scenes of his everyday life. The bigger point – that the rave-era youth were primarily out for themselves – is firmly made. But these vignettes are insufficiently developed to properly prime us for what to expect when the Woodsman arrives, enraged after David kills his dog. Still, a grimly amusing duel unfolds – David desperate to escape; the Poacher denying his container of scrumpy, intent on soaking him instead in resentful talk. Williamson, projecting heavy threat in the role, is evocative of Michael Smiley.
Stylish Imagery and Music Video Vibe
Just a single key story turn, but it results in a comically executed rampage on the woodland paths that dips close to rural terror. Director John Minton at last unleashes with his showy imagery: where he was hunkered down doing impressionistic closeups of bugs in headlights in the opening part, he now goes all out with the full psychedelic 21-gun salute, soundtracked to a frenzied keyboard rendition of Ravel’s Boléro. Game feels more like an extended promo than a fully fledged drama, but there’s enough bold visuals to suggest that Minton could follow Jonathan Glazer, Garth Jennings and others into successfully graduating from the Brit music promo scene.
Game is in UK and Irish theaters from November 17.
