Some people go to the movies to be whisked away by romance, others for laughter, many for an adrenaline rush. Me though, I like having my soul slightly destroyed, and movies like Bring Them Down are just the tonic for what ails me.
Through Bring Them Down, Christopher Andrews spins a fable-like yarn putting the ugliest side of humanity on display. From the film's opening moments, anger takes over the frame where a young man drives while in a fit of rage, ignoring his mother and girlfriend's cries to stop. From there we're taken on a dark and hideous journey when we rejoin that young man, Michael (Christopher Abbott), some years later as the lone worker on his family farm. Michael's girlfriend in the car that day, Caroline (Nora-Jane Noone), still wears the scars of his ego and lives on a nearby farm with her husband, Gary (Paul Ready), and son, Jack (Barry Keoghan).
One day Michael's father (Colm Meaney) receives a call from Gary informing him that two of Michael's rams were found dead on their property. When Michael goes to Gary's stead asking to look at the animals, Jack informs him that they've already been tossed into "the pit" in order to prevent them from spreading disease to the livestock. Michael has his suspicions and investigates them accordingly, unknowingly starting a conflict that dredges up old feelings and ends in a bloody mess.
The violent tale uses the Rashomon perspective-shifting approach, hardly unique or inventive in cinema today, but in Bring Them Down, Andrews works the device so seamlessly and with such artistry that it's a welcomed addition rather than a cliché. The way Andrews shifts between perspectives almost feels like a ghost story, lending itself well to the darkness that hangs over the entire movie. Bring Them Down is unapologetically unkind and it's relentless in this pursuit.
Even Abbott's Michael, the one we can place our compassion onto, carries an imposing weight that only gets heavier as the movie continues. Although the story presents him as the wronged party, the palpable intensity Abbott instills in Michael makes it clear that his troubles go beyond any sense of guilt and grief.
Similar to Michael, Keoghan's Jack brings more than meets the eye as his antagonistic douchery eventually wears away to the heart of his troubles. We've seen Keoghan play this type of role a few times now — each time, he's magnetic, and Bring Them Down is no exception. Jack also allows Keoghan a chance to throw down his comedic timing, which he unsurprising does with aplomb. The image of Jack sitting in the backseat cradling a yellow plastic bag in his lap as he casually looks out the window is quite possibly the most hilarious thing I've seen all year.
Bring Them Down has little warmth and even less joy, and yet, somehow a strange beauty arises out of this bleak affair. Perhaps it's the idea that we can treat one another so callously and still find humour within; or perhaps it's the connection we find in these characters and their situation that makes us feel better about our own situations. I'll continue to ponder the whys of this film in the months to come, but at a minimum, I've certainty in the grave impression this film has left on me.