Helmed by Portishead co-founder the musician-producer, this scabrous if undernourished first film casts a critical gaze on 90s rave culture. Venal drug user David (the actor) first robs an passed-out supplier, then in a later recollection tries to burgle his own parents. Before you can say, he's upside down in the remains of his car in a woodland – and subject to the angry eye of the Poacher (vocalist Jason Williamson). Declining to free David, with no time for city dwellers, he is a fractured society personified: “You’re one of those loud individuals from up on the heath.”
Unsteady Opening and Grimly Amusing Duel
Game gets off to a shaky start, spending too long on pedantically chronicling David’s attempt to free himself from his safety harness, while clumsily segueing into flashbacks of his everyday life. The bigger point – that the ecstasy generation were mainly focused on themselves – is clearly conveyed. But these brief episodes are too thin to properly prime us for what to expect when the Poacher turns up, fuming after David strangles his dog. Still, a darkly funny standoff unfolds – David eager to get away; the Poacher denying his container of scrumpy, determined to soaking him instead in embittered discourse. Williamson, exuding ponderous menace in the role, is evocative of Michael Smiley.
Visual Flair and Promo-Inspired Vibe
Just a single key story turn, but it results in a comically executed chaotic run on the woodland paths that veers toward folk horror. Filmmaker John Minton finally gets to go all in with his showy imagery: where he was hunkered down doing artful shots of insects in the light in the opening part, he now goes all out with the full lysergic 21-gun salute, soundtracked to a wild organ version 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 making the leap from the UK video industry.
Game releases in UK and Irish cinemas from November 17.
