Reviews

Satan

3

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, but we don’t give a fuck about the holidays,” growls Burberry-capped Bart (Olivier Bartélémy) in Satan, a French horror movie that could be Gaul’s answer to Eli Roth. Rebooting Rosemary’s Baby as a Satanic nativity story, it starts in a techno-pumping Parisian club where three unlikely lads get bottled then scram for the countryside with Eve (foxy temptress Roxane Mesquida from À Ma Soeur!). She takes them to her farm where housekeeper Joseph (Vincent Cassel) and his sister/wife Marie (Georgette Crochon) – Mary and Joseph, geddit? – are about to birth the son of Satan. All they need is a doll for the Devil to play with...

Confused but full of energy, Satan just about coasts by on in-yer-face punk anger, icky gross-out (a girl wanks a pooch, Marie’s waters break in a torrent of gloopy, bloody mucus) making up for writer/director Kim Chapiron’s messy, barely-baked concept. The vibrant and multicultural kids throw themselves headfirst into the material, Bartélémy’s likeably obnoxious chav stealing scenes with gusto. But they’re all in awe of Cassel, who raises his celluloid cool with an insane performance (manic grin, wellies, bushy ‘tache) as the Satan-worshipping yokel. Chapiron quickly runs out of ideas, jacknifing into David Lynch territory with goats on ER trolleys and a nonsense ending. Yet before the Devil takes it, it’s got balls if not brains. Extras include featurettes, but were unavailable as we went to press.

 

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