The Killing of a Sacred Deer
2017, thriller
directed by Yorgos Lanthimos
Talk to Me
2022, horror
directed by Michael & Danny Philippou
May 22nd
at the FRIDA
by Kai Karafotis | May 21
The Killing of a Sacred Deer, directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, is a nail-biting uncanny valley nightmare, following an acclaimed cardiac surgeon whose idyllic life is strangled by the retribution of a buried secret. Deeply unsettling in both form and content, Sacred Deer dissects power, pride, guilt, and justice in fascinatingly complex layers.
Talk to Me, on the other hand, is a supernatural horror centering a group of teenagers who communicate with spirits through an embalmed hand, and quickly discover the horrific consequences of toying with purgatorial powers. At its core a musing on grief and loss, Talk to Me carries a heavy subject in a thrilling way, and creates a thought-provoking resonance with Sacred Deer.
The Killing of a Sacred Deer and Talk to Me are screening as a double feature at the Frida Cinema in Downtown Santa Ana on Thursday, May 22nd. Read more about them below (with some very light spoilers).
Entering the theater expecting the movie to directly explain its thoughts will do you a disservice with Sacred Deer. The title alone contains critical subtext: it references the Greek myth of Iphigenia, whose father King Agamemnon kills a sacred deer. As an act of justice, the goddess Artemis commands him to sacrifice his eldest daughter in order to achieve his goal to reach Troy. As in many classic Greek mythologies, the story of Iphigenia weighs ethics and morality, a recurring concept in Lanthimos’s films. King Agamemnon’s relegation to mortality, a reminder of his vulnerability in his greater quest for power, is a central theme in Sacred Deer.
The film opens with Steven (Colin Farrell) operating on an exposed heart. In every sense, Steven moves with god-like power, the ability to save lives or end them. Much like King Agamemnon, he carries a sense of invulnerability with him. He is respected in all aspects of his life and revered as a leader. He has a perfect life, perfect wife, perfect children, wealth and intelligence and prestige. He is in control. Men in extreme power often face few repercussions, their reputation or money creating infallibility as they bend reality to suit their needs. Often with this power comes pride, a narcissism fostered by inflated self-importance. A mistake is an impossibility that would violate their world view. And so despite what happens in the operating room, Steven removes his bloody gloves and moves on. “A surgeon never kills a patient,” Steven swears. “An anesthesiologist can kill a patient, but a surgeon never can.” He is reluctant to admit his own faults, even to the point of logical implausibility, and in doing so rejects the consequences of his actions. Throughout the film, Steven’s hands are a focus of attention. His hands, so clean and soft and beautiful, perfectly encapsulate his moral character. He will not allow them to be bloodied, even when there should be blood on his hands. He is above guilt and will do anything but admit he is flawed. And the unfolding result of his god complex creates a jaw-clenching narrative.
Overall, watching the film as a parable rather than a hero’s journey sums to a more impactful viewing experience. The characters represent a moral position in a greater ethical question, nearly more so than the characters they were written to be, and the implications of that create a fascinating ghost layer to the movie that makes it compelling the whole way through.
In Talk to Me, the central character, Mia, is dealing with incredible grief—the film begins on the two year anniversary of her mother’s gruesome death, pushing Mia to look for an outlet to avoid her feelings. It leads her to the hand, a source of excitement and ecstasy. However, as the hand tightens its grasp on her, the lines between reality and delusion blur. The overall impression is that of drug addiction: what begins as fun escalates into a problem she cannot pull herself out of. As with Steven in Sacred Deer, she is seeking control and balance, and its unclear how far either will go to eliminate what threatens their world view.
Talk to Me has a classic horror feeling to it, prioritizing scare factor and suspense, and boy does it deliver. It escalates the archetypal ouijia storyline and finds an unpredictable path, with a few scenes leaving you jaw-dropped. It’s absolutely a must-see for modern horror, striking the right balance of story without tipping into territory that distracts from the scares.
Lastly, I feel inclined to mention that both films contain content that may be triggering to some audience members—The Killing of a Sacred Deer in specific features medical trauma and child abuse with mentions of pedophilia (among other things), and both films revolve around the death of a parent. The great success of horror is the ability to unsettle and surprise, but please feel free to research content warnings if you want to ensure you’ll have the right kind of scary fun.
The Killing of a Sacred Deer and Talk to Me are the perfect pair for the anxiety-loving horror fan, and surely best enjoyed with a theater full of commiserating victims. Be sure to check out the double screening at the Frida Cinema on May 22nd.