Review: "The Killing Of A Sacred Deer" Doesn't Know What It Wants To Be

This weekend, I saw Yorgos Lanthimos' The Killing Of A Sacred Deer, starring Colin Farrell and Nicole Kidman. It was one I had eyes for long in advance, rather I caught interest on a whim. My girlfriend saw the trailer and saw "intense-looking thriller!", I (being a snob) read reviews and saw "critically-acclaimed indie film!", so it was off to the theatres we went. What in fact transpired was one of the strangest Friday nights I've had in a long time-- and keep in mind, I am less than two years removed from college.

I don't know if I can review this movie without relating it in the chronological order of my viewing experience, which was segmented into three acts, essentially. For the first 1/3rd of the film, I, my viewing partner, and really the entire audience were plunged into total confusion/incredulity. The film opens with a shot of a beating heart during an open-heart surgery, which isn't the most tranquil of open shots. Soon afterwards, we meet the protagonist Steven Murphy (Farrell), a surgeon. Right away, though, we notice something's off. Not just with Steven, but with everything. The dialogue between all characters is completely monotonous and nearly emotionless, for example. There's bizarre interaction after bizarre interaction: Steven meets up with a teenage boy, Martin, and gives him a gift of a watch- this is all innocent enough, but the body language and conversation through out is at once off-kilter and unvarying in tone. At a swanky reception, Steven and wife Anna (Kidman) inform a friend inquiring about the family that "their daughter has just begun menstruating". It dawned on us viewers that either a. this would be a poorly written and acted film, b. this would be a film about emotionally removed and socially inept people, or c. there was something ironic and intentional about these strange scenes.

In the second 1/3rd of the film, I began to realize that the latter point was the case, and found more enjoyment. As Martin meets Steven's family, and then returns the favor by inviting Steven to his own home, Sacred Deer begins to establish itself more as an absurdist black comedy. When Steven is invited over, he dines and watched Bill Murray's Groundhog Day with Martin and his mother; it should be noted that we've learned at this point Steven has befriended Martin because the boy's father died in a car accident some years before. Nevertheless, Martin's mother makes an advance on Steven, one that is equal parts uncomfortable and humorous. In a later scene, Martin informs Steven that he is happy for Steven and his mother to be together, and that she would make a great wife for him, prompting Steven to remind Martin that he has a wife and 2 children. (This interaction comes in the same scene where Martin demands Steven take off his shirt so he can confirm Steven's son's story, that his father has more body hair than Martin.) One final example of the absurdity is the blossoming of a relationship between Martin and Kim, Steven's 14-year old daughter. Perhaps parodying the absurdity of real-life teenage relationships, the two go from unknowns to saying "I love you so much" (monotonously, of course) within weeks. Their chemistry, or lack thereof, throughout moves the comic aspects of the story along; indeed, I think the scene that keyed me in to the humor of the film was a long, revolving shot of Kim singing, off-key, Ellie Goulding's "Let It Burn" to Martin.

However, the final 1/3rd of the movie is where the story seems to literally lose the plot a little, as Sacred Deer appears to go full-steam ahead with the horror/thriller aspect. Of course the film has had traces of thriller or even horror throughout, initiated by the character of Martin, and an unnerving ultimatum he gives Steven around a strange affliction that becomes of Steven's son. I'll spare you plot spoilers, of course, far be it from me to ruin any twists and turns. But towards the end of the film, the remnants of comedy and irony are all but removed. In their place are more of the tenets of a psychological horror flick: tension, gore, heightened emotion and a pulsating finish. Given the pre-established tone, this last chapter seems incongruous- the viewer is not emotionally attached to these characters or their well-being, and by the end, winds up mostly just disgusted or lost rather than engaged and enthralled.

Some further reading on my part revealed that Lanthimos was intending to largely draw from the Greek myth of Iphigenia, a tale that is mentioned in passing near the end of the film and one that Classics majors would have been able to identify from the movie's title. If Sacred Deer were simply a modern re-framing of that myth, it'd be fascinating; however, it strives to conquer arenas of both psychological horror and dark comedy, and doesn't really achieve either.

Give credit to Lanthimos for this, though: The Killing Of A Sacred Deer will stick with you, and will leave you wanting to at least talk about it to someone, if not recommend it to them.