Gerald Kargl’s Angst was added to my endless list of films to watch a few years ago and like many others, it was quickly and unfortunately forgotten. I was reminded of the Austrian thriller, however, when the hype surrounding Gaspar Noé’s 3D sexual “odyssey,” Love, infiltrated my newsfeed after its premiere at Cannes on May 20. Suddenly, Angst was being talked about again, and for an interesting reason — it happens to be one of the films that Noé references as an all time favorite, and it’s a detectable source of inspiration. Of Angst, Noé has said, “It’s the best psycho-killer movie,” and “It’s going to be rediscovered everywhere in the next few years.”
The works of Noé are deep, dark and polarizing, but there’s no denying the man is crazy-talented and possesses a truly unique way of capturing grim subject matter in, well, the absolute dreariest of ways. That in mind, I assumed that Angst would be hard to watch — and surely, it was — but it was also insanely captivating, and went far beyond my expectations.
What happens in the film is pretty straight forward — a psychopathic man (actor Erwin Leder, who’s simply credited as “The Psychopath”) is released from prison, and becomes overwhelmed by the urge to kill. And since he’s, ya know, a psychopath, he succumbs to his appetite for brutality, and goes on to terrorize an innocent family in their home. It’s a familiar story that’s graced the screen time and time again, but I genuinely think this is the most disconcerting film of the home invasion variety that I’ve seen. And the funny thing is, it doesn’t exploit or indulge or rely on crazy effects or devices. Rather, it utilizes a combination of A+ camerawork, totally realistic acting, and a solid score to create this sinister and claustrophobic realm that’s driven by paranoia, confusion, and terror.
The camerawork was done in a way that made most scenes simultaneously real and surreal. The close-up POV shots were similar to those of modern-day Aronofsky or, unsurprisingly, Noé himself. But adding to the already-tense atmosphere presented in these shots, Kargl sort of went beyond by incorporating this brilliant sense of reverse POV — like, viewers are watching this crazed man doing sadistic things from his person, but also as a first-hand observer. Going back and forth between these two perspectives was especially jarring as it created a way of experiencing thoughts and actions at the same time. This untraditional and hypnotic gaze sucks you so far in that it becomes impossible to break away, no matter how uncomfortable you feel.
All of the acting was near-perfect. “The Psychopath” is deranged, but not in that over-the-top way that makes some fictional murderers seem showy or darkly comical. Here, we have an antagonist who’s actually rather bland. He isn’t charming nor grotesque — he’s just the sort of person you wouldn’t notice in a crowd. And he isn’t even very skilled in his barbaric craft, as his seemingly less advantaged victims end up being decent fighters, and he’s constantly running around clumsily, looking shaken and confused. It’s the palpable realism that makes this lead character so terrifying; he could be anyone.
And again with the alternating perspectives, it’s like a part of you might want to sympathize with him because we can get a sense of how he feels and why savagery seems necessary for him — but you ultimately can’t. Unless you’re a murderer, perhaps. We’re given some background information regarding his childhood, which was unsurprisingly riddled with abuse, and learn that he still needs to release years of built-up anger and shame. So we can kind of get a sense of where he’s coming from, but he’s still too terrible of a person to feel for. And the victims have no backstory and hardly any dialogue, so it’s difficult to relate to them either — they’re just these random people we know absolutely nothing about. The inability to fully empathize with anyone in such bleak circumstances absolutely pushes the level of discomfort into a territory that isn’t typically visited by most films.
It makes sense that this film is a favorite of Noé’s. It’s deeply unsettling, but it’s also superior in terms of innovation and artistry. Each and every aspect, from the lighting, to the simple dialogue and voice-overs, to the perfect expressions of each character, combine to make for a truly distressing piece of cinema. It’s one of those films that leaves you feeling a little gross after watching/enjoying it, but I guess that means it was made properly. So if you’re partial to darker and more contemplative kinds of films — or if you’re just a masochist — I would highly recommend it.
Review by Nicole Woszczyna. Follow her on Twitter @nicolewosz.