Ryan Gosling knew this was going to happen. His directorial debut screened in the Un Certain Regarde category of Cannes and, naturally, packed the house as if it was the most highly buzzed Palme D’Or contender of the year. Two hours later the film ended, and people took to Twitter in disbelief, shock, and sarcasm engaged to the max. Yet, the film already began building a loyal fan base who defend its great aesthetics, originality, and the fact that it’s never boring. But getting your teeth pulled out by rusty pliers is probably never boring either. After making whatever Lost River is, there’s no way Gosling didn’t expect exactly that kind of reaction. Is there a point in even laying out the plot here? A mother (Christina Hendricks) works in a seedy bar and has to take care of two boys, one of whom is nicknamed Bones (Iain De Caestecker) and is sort of our protagonist. After getting news that they’re about to get displaced, she takes another job in an ever seedier bar, operated by her banker Dave (Ben Mendelsohn) so that she can pay three months in advance. Meanwhile, Bones attempts to outwit a local gang leader called Bully (Matt Smith) to help with the rent, and gets moral support from a friend called Rat (Saorise Ronan). Yes. Bones, Bully, and Rat.

The actors do a decent enough job and go beyond the call of duty that their names suggest, but it’s Mendelsohn who outshines everyone and truly looks like he belongs in the fucked up world Gosling juke-boxed together. The film spins out of control quite quickly and goes into experimental mode; becoming a lab for Gosling to play around with a Greatest Hits collection of influences (David Lynch, Nicolas Winding Refn, and Gaspar Noe most notably, though the re-occurring image of burning buildings recalls one of my favorite cinematic shots, possibly ever, from Akira Kurosawa’s Ran) without needing to make much sense. The idea is to evoke a nightmarish atmosphere and make the whole thing into some form of parable for the housing crisis in middle America, or you know, he’s just fucking around. Whatever it is, he’s got me cursing for the first time in a Cannes review and that’s because most of the scenes, as great as they look (an image of a burning bicycle, the macabre bar where Hendricks begins to work, and the images of her in the plastic suit are undeniably striking and get etched into your mind, for better or for worse) don’t amount to anything substantial. This isn’t just style over substance, this is style raping substance.

The music deserves a mention, however, because (and this is a direct Refn influence) the electronic notes work in sinister fashion to help the overall grotesqueness occurring on-screen. If there was a Cannes award for Best Soundtrack, Lost River would be a shoe-in. As it stands, it’s nothing more than a first-time director’s messy homage to some of his favorites. The reason it’s getting so much attention, and will most likely go down as a cult favorite in certain circles, is because the director happens to be Ryan Gosling. Thanks to his name, though, he manages to assemble artists like Mendelsohn, Ronan, cinematographer Benoit Debie, and composer Johnny Jewel who elevate this psychedelic bad trip from complete disaster into a twisted kind of entertainment.

Before the film officially premieres later this week at Cannes, a new clip from Ryan Gosling‘s Lost River has hit the Internet. The clip doesn’t give us much except Matt Smith chanting at Iain De Caestecker to look at his muscles. From what we know of the film, De Caestecker plays Bones, son to Christina Hendricks‘ character Billy, who finds an underwater town. Matt Smith goes simply by Bully, and with his sequined jacket, microphone, and flaming bicycle antics he already appears to be one of what will undoubtedly be some interesting characters. We’re nowhere nearer understanding what this film is all about, but it was on our Most Anticipated Films of Cannes List and this just has us all the more excited to see it!

First Clip of Lost River

The inevitable problem that comes with a great set-up is that, at some point, questions have to be answered. Jeremy Lovering’s In Fear is, as the title suggests, focused on what people do when they’re overcome with fear. Lovering expertly handles building up dread and intensity in his film’s first half, only to undo all of it once he lays everything out. By the final act, it turns out that there was never anything to be afraid of in the first place.

Tom (Iain De Caestecker) and Lucy (Alice Englert) are a couple on their way to meet some friends at a music festival in Ireland. There’s already a sense of reluctance from Lucy, as it’s revealed they’ve only been dating for 2 weeks, and the situation is made more awkward when Tom surprises her with hotel reservations for the night. Lucy hesitantly agrees, and the two head out to spend the night.

The problems start to arise when the directions point them to a spot that’s so far out their GPS stops working. And then the seemingly endless series of winding roads they take cause them to get lost in its maze-like structure. Road signs begin to contradict themselves, and as day turns into night Lucy begins to see what looks like a masked figure observing them in the woods. Of course, it’s easy to guess what happens next, and soon Tom and Lucy are trying to survive the night.

Lovering sets things up perfectly from the start. Englert and De Caestecker quickly establish a pleasant chemistry that’s still somewhat hesitant, as the two are still getting to know to each other. The fact that the two of them have only been together for 2 weeks looms over the first two acts, as their situation worsens and tensions rise. The very thin line between enjoyment and fear gets exposed once problems begin popping up, and Lucy realizes that she’s in the middle of nowhere with a man she barely knows. Lovering plays up on the terror of being in such a vulnerable position effectively,  developing Tom and Lucy’s seemingly ordinary road trip into something much more unsettling.

The film’s major influence appears to be Ils, the terrific French horror movie from 2006 about a couple trying to survive a home invasion. Ils derived a lot of its horror from keeping its villains in the dark, and through their actions implying there might be a supernatural quality to the invaders. In Fear applies that same ambiguity in the first half, as the labyrinthine system of roads imply some greater forces could be at work. Lovering’s reveal of who or what is terrorizing the main characters is disappointing, leading to a final act filled with stupid behaviour and false profundity (at some point the line “Violence is the mother and the daughter” gets spoken, which is supposed to mean something). The limited location, with almost all of the action occurring in Tom’s car, also begins to wear out its welcome as time goes on.

There is one aspect of In Fear that is supposed to separate it from other horror films; Lovering withheld the script from his actors, giving them vague directions so their reactions on camera would be genuine. It’s a neat little piece of trivia that never translates to the screen. As it is with most mysteries, In Fear is much better when little is known. As the film tries to go beyond its well-done tension building to find something deeper, nail-biting gives way to eyerolling. In Fear is good at creating anxiety, but fails to sustain it successfully.