Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Carl Medland
Starring: Carl Medland, Darren Earl Williams, Ivan
Alexiev
A seasoned connoisseur of micro-budget DIY horror auteur
Carl Medland's oeuvre, I wrote in my review of
Paranormal Farm 2
that while I'm not entirely sure how serious Carl actually is when he
makes his films, I am nonetheless completely sincere in my enjoyment of
them. Settling down the other Friday night to Carl's latest offering,
Aiden – to be found on Prime; the spiritual home of this
sort of bargain idiosyncrasy - with an especially strong vodka martini in
hand (hard alcohol is an advised serving suggestion for the Medland
canon), any lingering uncertainty was resolved.
Focussing on domestic violence within a gay male relationship,
Aiden is a determined attempt to essay toxic masculinity via
a queer framework: an ostensibly serious prospect, which is dealt with
sensitively. Of primary interest is the scarcity of such a representation,
because even though LGBTQ+ depiction has become more conspicuous in recent
cinema, it is yet rare for homosexual characters to not be ultimately
defined by their very gayness. There are exceptions (I love
Bottoms, say, for its quotidian gay girlies), but the abiding archetype is the
sort of troubled characterisation found in Georgia Oakley's (stunning)
period drama
Blue Jean
or the absurd histrionics of
Saltburn
(remember Saltburn?!). Aiden joins last year's imperial
Femme in being a raw and honest portrayal of dysfunction and
abuse within male companionship, a welcome antidote to the shiny, happy
queerness frequently used to illustrate gay characters (who so often
provide mere camp foil to the straight protagonist, à la the gay best
friend trope). Don't worry though, fellow Medheads: it does all go
completely mental, and quite quickly too.
Seemingly shot entirely on Carl's iPhone, the slightly over-lit exposure
of the cinematography adds further anxious urgency to the already aspirant
performances, completing the ethereal and off-kilter tone of
Aiden. This is particularly the case with Darren Earl Williams, who
plays an unorthodox therapist: Williams is a Medland regular whose
dramatic presence is automatically uncanny. Aiden (Medland) has turned to
Dr. Williams (characters in Carl's films often have the same name as their
actors. Sometimes this is deliberately meta, other times I just think it's
a convenience) to help him to get over a controlling relationship with
hunky narcissist Ivan (Ivan Alexiev). Aiden is scared of Ivan -
who, when not attempting to micromanage his life, physically assaults him
- but is nonetheless still in helpless thrall to the sculpted bully: "He
just asserts this masculinity, this threat, this danger."
The ensuing discussion of the liaison throughout Aiden is
pointed and seems embedded in either careful research or real-life
experience. It certainly feels uncomfortably confessional; "not being
funny," Aiden replies when questioned about involving the filth, "they
don’t make it easy going to the police, especially male abuse from a male
abuser. I've got pride."
Amid the patented strangeness of the film (such as when Dr. Williams
demands that Aiden goes and lives in an isolated ranch for seven days
without food or outside contact, but with instructions to film himself
throughout the experience, and our lead just simply acquiesces) the
psychology, the core of all this, rings humanly true (the ranch isn't even
that isolated at all, tbh, being quite clearly a holiday destination Carl
has hired out for the weekend in order to make Aiden). Thus, we follow Aiden as he ekes out his week in the static home,
flashbacking to a violent, sexual history with Ivan, and having randomly
strange experiences (accosted by a towering martian at midnight, meeting
another camper who gives him a banana, etc) when he's not dipping into his
Usborne Book of the Night Sky (what Roland Barthes might call a "semantic
code" 😉). Carl is a sweet and watchable presence as ever (he reminds me
of a smoother Danny Dyer but with the speaking voice of dear old George
Michael), and, as in the Paranormal Farm trilogy, when the
scares do come they are weird and effective.
With the rushing, sleek energy of the film, it's not incomprehensible that
Carl was experiencing similar phenomena to his beleaguered protagonist and
one day just upped and decided to make a film about the encounter,
couching it within an ersatz genre template (a reading supported by the
synonymous cast names). It has that insistency, the candid mien that true
outsider art, from Cassavetes to Breen, asserts. Watching Carl's films,
I’m reminded of Arthur Schopenhauer's maxim that "All truth passes through
three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed.
Third, it is accepted as being self-evident." It takes a little while and
an open heart to lock-in to Aiden's distinctive charms... we love art which is esoteric, which makes us
work for it, after all. Anything could happen within the looping narrative
logic of Aiden: Dr Williams uttering that "you're not to meet anyone on this
experiment... I mean project" could be a heavy-handed portent or a fluffed
line; likewise, if, say, the main character turned out to be a sort of
artificial intelligence alien hybrid for some reason, then that's fine,
too. Carl's crowning achievement as a filmmaker is to draw us, sometimes
despite ourselves, into these unhinged worlds, wherein we become duly
suggestible and willingly accepting of their inscrutable whimsy.
Aiden is on UK/ROI VOD now.
