Else

The objective to be one with the other is simultaneously the most romantic of ideas and the one that provokes utter terror. In his debut feature film “Else” screened at the Toronto Film Festival Thibault Emin directs us in the direction of the former but before long takes a nosedive into the implications of the latter. Almost entirely set in an apartment primarily resembling a refuge as well as a jail cell, the movie draws its bones from a storyline concerning two lovers turning out to be increasingly and externally threatened. Perhaps a bit too conceptual but fully captivating in its imagery, Emin’s ‘plex’ is just as much a providence in progress narrative, as it is a philosophical interjection of the solarized meaning of the lockdown.

Often called Anx, Anx (Matthieu Sampeur) is an anxious trouble (mess in parentheses) of a man. His room is as carelessly adorned as that of a child (he has red sheets and purple walls, colored lights and equally colorful toys scattered everywhere) and, as we come to discover, has problems with relating sexually to his age group on a long-term basis. He is not the type of person who cares to make friends with the surrounding residents of his apartment building and even enclose myself when he has to do something about a man disturbing the peace outside his window. That is why up until now he is not very shock with how smitten he is with Cass (Édith Proust), what was supposed to be a one-night-stand infatuation with a casual acquaintance. She is brash where he is tactful. She is boisterous where he is shy.

Meeting them where we do (naked, Anx on top of Berger, fighting, then losing the battle to keep his penis inside her) one would be forgiven to imagine “Else” was a bright cheerful escapade with the comedic highlight of cringe of her throwing half-eaten fig at the floor in which she horrified him with sitting at the center. And very briefly, yes, in “Else” it does look like the intention is to bury us in a ridiculous romantic comedy in which two lovebirds refuse to step outside of Anx’s aphobic apartment – only, Emin has other ideas.

A collage of social media pics shows how the couple met and sparked feelings towards each other at the party the day before. But what kills Anx is one specific detail in a photo that doesn’t include either of the two: A hand of a man who is currently holding popcorn has this-type-of-thing-on-it.

Anx has every reason to be frayed. News soon breaks that there’s an ominous epidemic darting the land somehow semi-epidermically. People are being absorbed – brains, limbs, and all – to things like the phone, the roads, and granite rocks. All Anx can do is to shut himself in that prison in the sky and do nothing more than avoid the company of other people. Except, of course, Cass, who is different as she feels it is the right time to enjoy the lockdown period with her rather lost new boyfriend. Before long, however, the awkwardness that develops between the two is even less than the peace they strive to achieve when confronted by the unknown entity that is consuming everything in sight. That’s when “Else” becomes something that is reminiscent of a horror film with Anx and Cass fighting off whatever is at the periphery of their door, which only served to urge that most immortal phrase made famous by ‘Star Trek’, “resistance is futile”.

As “Else” shifts from a dreamy ‘chick flick’ day with lowfi documentary inserts (there are appropriate home video style pics as well) to ‘sad low fi sci fi’ sans colour all the more chilling in it’s very core, Anx and Cass turn into movie’s latter-day lovelorn conjoined twins. Directed solely confined within a room, they interact with each other a bit, however, towards the end, they have started to avoid contact so as not to catch whatever virus seems to be transforming the watery mass outside the four walls of the shoe box cell.

Into a pure body horror sub-genre, people expect that any other expectation goes out the window which serves as a flaw because even for such genre, Lefèvre’s camera gets boring at times. Some of his endemically straitjacketed monochrome images are somehow attractive visually, in a way that conjures up Méliès or Wiene.

One of the more natural inspiring aspects is the tactility of Emin’s film though. Yet Anx and Cass resent the commonality of merging with what is omnipresent and even the film’s disjointedness holds us up to this disembodied reality. Stars, territories, surfaces and even body parts were all filmed through a displacing, faking off appreciation lens. It is a narrative of looking at the other in a different way and from it, learning how to, or vice versa, looking at other people in a different pattern.

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