THE ORDEAL (2004)

Whilst it’s clear that the current resurgence in horror cinema is driven mostly by American remakes of classic fright features along with the creative inspiration of Eastern cinematic delights, most discerning horror fans will know that one of the more inspirational regions for fresh talent lies not in the US or Japan, but in Europe. French director Alexandre Aja had his talents imported to the US for the remake of The Hills Have Eyes after his gruesome film Switchblade Romance (aka Haute Tension) took the Sitges film festival by storm. In 2002, British director Neil Marshall turned a similar trick with his comedy tinged werewolf yarn Dog Soldiers, making him a serious operator in the field of fright. In 2004 a new talent emerged from Belgium to muscle his way into the crowded horror market, with a dark and disturbingly surreal tale of isolation and cruelty.
The Ordeal (aka Calvaire) is the brain child of Fabrice Du Welz, a pleasant level headed individual who, along with fellow screenwriter Roman Protat, has created a tense film which offers the viewer plenty of reasons to turn away from the screen as our unfortunate victim is subjected to humiliation both physical and, above all mentally. The film follows cabaret singer Marc Stephens (Laurent Lucas) as he finishes up his last performance before setting off for the Christmas period. As he travels along the back roads in his weary tour van, the weather closes in causing his vehicle to breakdown at night amongst thick isolated woodland. It’s not long before Marc meets with Boris, one of the strange locals out looking for his lost dog, who offers to take the singer to Bartel, a lonely but friendly farmer who lives a solitarily life after his wife abandoned him. Bartel welcomes Marc into his home and offers him a warm bed for the night with the promise of repairing his vehicle the very next day. But the kindly farmer seems reluctant to let Marc leave and after a confrontation, Bartel attacks and imprisons the singer, dressing him in his wife’s old clothes and subjecting him to a series of bizarre and humiliating deeds. The Ordeal has indeed begun.

Welz has created a film which is as unpleasant as picking at a fresh scab, but has the same unfathomable allure which keeps the viewer glued to the screen like a bunch of car drivers passing a motorway pile-up, you know its not going to be nice, but you just have to slow down and take a peek. The dark core which runs so vigorously through this film brings about the type of raw unsettling menace which has been witnessed in previous survival-type horrors such as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Deliverance and The Hills Have Eyes. This unsettling feeling is no more evident than during one scene where Marc completely breaks down and sits sobbing over a bowl of soup. Visually battered and bruised, and sitting in a woman’s summer dress, his cries of mental anguish and physical pain are mocked by Boris and Bartel as they laugh and imitate his cries of desperation. Not easy to watch, but overtly compelling to our most basic instincts. Of course this example is only a small offering as to the more mild content of The Ordeal, and the unwary viewer should at least be warned to expect a little male rape, bestiality, crucifixion, cross dressing and your usual extreme violence.
Laurent Lucas does a truly superb job of playing the average Joe character that most people can connect with, making his ordeal truly horrifying by association. Lucas plays the films only seemingly normal character as every person encountered during Marc’s journey/ordeal has flaws ranging from minor to seriously screwed up. From the get go he has to deal with a sex starved granny who’s advances are just as cringe worthy as the latter brutality, and a care worker who also has designs on the singer and includes a little something ‘extra’ in his pay packet. As the film progresses, the cast swells with ever more twisted and more sinister characters which in turn drives the films tension to new heights as these backwood-dwellers start to show their true evil faces. The film does leave a few unanswered questions dangling in the forest breeze, but Welz seems completely happy to have some things open to question. This approach may confuse and even frustrate some, but nothing ever stands out so overtly that you can’t progress to the films exhaustive finale.

Tartan Video’s UK DVD release has a fresh anamorphic 2.35:1 transfer which aptly conveys the films cold but effective cinematography from film stock to small screen. The film carries its original French soundtrack in a suitably robust DD and DTS 5.1 soundtrack as well as standard Dolby 2.0 stereo. In the DVD extra’s department you get a 20 minute short film entitled A Wonderful Love which showcases Fabrice Du Welz’s twisted passion for the macabre. It’s a great short that is as entertaining as the main presentation and is a terrific addition which boosts the overall quality of the disk no end. To accompany this short film, Tartan have bagged themselves an exclusive 30 minute interview with director Fabrice Du Welz where he offers plenty of insight into the films reasoning and is an extremely interesting piece. At the tail end of the discs features is the films original French trailer with English subtitles.