Review by
Sue Finn
Directed by: Aik Karapetian
Starring: Kevin Janssens, Laura Siliņa, Aigars Vilims, Normunds Griestiņš, Juris Bartkevičs, Guntis Pilsums
A droll narrator informs us (over the strains of some baroque chamber
piece that recalls finer times) that the small piglet whose ploy for
freedom we are currently enjoying, will soon be a catalyst in the
journey of our incoming hero – Sam (Kevin Janssens).
Newly arrived in small-village Eastern Europe, Sam is on the search for
a father he has never seen, and his chance encounter with our gorgeous
runaway pig sends him on a trajectory that no one could have foreseen.
When the owner of said pig offers Sam a place to stay for the
fast-encroaching night, he happily accepts after driving her and her pig
back to their farm home.
Her name is Kirke (Laura Silina) and after a pleasant evening
with Sam she decides she wants to keep him and so, when her father
arrives home, they strip him naked and chain him up in the barn to live
with the pigs. Of course!
Sam’s ordeal is compounded by the fact that he can only speak English
and so is truly surrounded by those he does not understand.
Jancuks (Normunds Griestins), the strange young man who visits
every day from a neighboring farm where he is treated like a literal dog
by his father and uncle, has set his sights on marrying Kirke and thus
hates Sam on sight, sensing rightly that there is a degree of sexual
tension between her and the foreigner chained up in the barn.
Kirke’s father Gustav (Aigars Vilims) dreads the time that his
aging body will no longer allow him to tend to the farm and has decided
Sam is the person to help him maintain it. He enlists him to manage the
animals and sometimes, to Sam’s horror, kill them. A note of caution - I
can tell fellow animal lovers that the deaths are not fully shown though
there is a disturbing shot of a pig running while on fire - be warned.
Over time, Sam starts to enjoy his time at the farm and grows to care
for both Kirke and her father, even going so far as to bafflingly defend
them when their well-being is threatened; but of course, there are
escape attempts. Indeed, one of the attempts at escape presents us with
my favourite shot in the movie - a bunch of free ranging pigs chilling
in the woods.
And then the finale feels as if it comes mid movie and leaves me feeling
unsatisfied.
Writer/director Aki Karapetian’s fourth feature film is a strange
one, written like an old school fairytale with a story at its centre
that doesn’t shy away from the ugliness in life but views it with a more
rosy glow than usual. Violence is here, death and fear, but also a
delightful embrace of whimsy and a talking piglet who would melt even
the hardest heart.
The cinematography makes great use of the lush landscape, and the mud
and flies feel almost visceral, which accentuates the pastoral vibe; for
an indie this is a nicely cinematic and professional looking movie. The
music adds a flourish of pomp to an otherwise squalid tale, and I
enjoyed that juxtaposition.
I can’t decide if I liked or didn’t like the narrator; the seemingly
Australian voice was somewhat jarring with this deeply Eastern European
film, but at the same time it wasn’t overly intrusive and added to the
fairytale feel of the movie.
Commenting on the dehumanising of those we enslave and the disturbing
phenomenon of Stockholm syndrome, it doesn’t all come together as a
satisfying whole, and in the end I’m unsure exactly what it was trying
to say. Perhaps a fairytale about the desire for purpose and the need to
embrace it wherever it appears? Perhaps just a cautionary film about a
man who trusted the wrong stranger. Whatever its reasons for existing, I
do wish I had enjoyed it more. This is not a bad film by any stretch; it
just isn’t for me.
This absurd and strange tale is not always successful, and it did
struggle to hold my attention, but I will always appreciate and love a
talking pig.
Squeal is on US VOD now. A UK/ROI
release has yet to be announced.
