Add Category
BODIES BODIES BODIES ★★★
(MA) 94 minutes, cinemas
The problematic phrase “guilty pleasure” will just about do for Halina Reijn’s Bodies Bodies Bodies, the kind of horror parody so edgy it practically slices and dices itself. Despite all the posturing and partly because of it, I had a fairly good time – and was even left with a few things to think about.
A weekend away goes horribly wrong for (from left) Amandla Stenberg, Maria Bakalova, Chase Sui Wonders and Rachel Sennott in Bodies Bodies Bodies.
The set-up is slasher 101. A group of friends in their early 20s are staying overnight at an isolated mansion, with a hurricane on the way. They decide to pass the time by playing a murder mystery game, leading to the inevitable moment when the lights go out and the danger becomes real.
This well-worn premise allows scope for a couple of nods to Dario Argento’s classic Suspiria, via glow-in-the-dark bracelets and a tinkling musical-box motif in the score by US composer Disasterpeace. But Reijn and screenwriter Sarah DeLappe use the genre mainly as a basis for satire, with characters bent on wounding each other verbally rather than physically.
By design, most of these characters are privileged by almost any standard – though, just as pointedly, they’re not all white and straight. The exception to the rule of wealth is also the sole non-American, the unassuming Bee (Bulgarian expatriate Maria Bakalova, breakout star of the recent Borat sequel).
Pete Davidson (middle) plays the obnoxious Dave, whose parents own the isolated house in Bodies, Bodies, Bodies.
Bee’s childlike intentness may mask a few of her own secrets, but mainly we’re aligned with her outsider perspective, presumably shared to some extent by Reijn, a Dutch director in her 40s making her English language debut.
The script’s immediate irony is that everyone has a victim card or two up their sleeves to be played when it suits their purpose. The characters trade accusations such as “you’re so toxic” and wear their insecurities proudly. Even the extroverts yearn to be seen as sensitive artists: Alice (Rachel Sennott) devotes herself to her podcast, while Bee’s girlfriend Sophie (Amandla Stenlen) pens “creative non-fiction” like Lena Dunham’s character in Girls.