| Director(s) | David Bruckner |
| Principal Cast | Rafe Spall as Luke Arsher Ali as Phil Robert James-Collier as Hutch Sam Troughton as Dom Paul Reid as Robert |
| Release Date | 2017 |
| Language(s) | English |
| Running Time | 94 minutes |
A group of 5 friends – Luke, Phil, Hutch, Dom, and Robert- meet in a bar to plan their next vacation with one another. Like any group of mates from college they’ve obviously outgrown their younger tendencies and struggle to determine a good location. As each of them suggests a possible spot another rejects it for some contrived reason. The group session ends with no decision and Luke, the loner of the group who seems most caught up in his past life, decides he wants to buy another bottle of booze from a convenience store. His mates, who have responsibilities now, don’t particularly want to come with him, but eventually Robert acquiesces and joins along. Unfortunately, the store they visit is being robbed by some violent cretins. Luke, with his bottle in hand, runs and hides. Robert isn’t as lucky and ends up losing his life as he’s brutally sliced apart while Luke watches in the background, petrified and unable to move. The movie cuts to Luke waking up in Sweden as his friends and him have decided to go on a hiking trip – Robert’s suggestion from that night so many months ago – to honor their late friend’s legacy.
From the outset, Luke is positioned apart from his 3 other friends. It doesn’t need to be said, but the elephant in the room is clear – he survived and did nothing as Robert died inside. The movie makes this clear in its composition, keeping Luke at an arms length from his mates, reminding the audience there’s a wound there that hasn’t been addressed.
After making a toast to Robert, the four friends track back on the mountainous path that seems to engulf them. The camera showcases just how small they really are in this wide area, yet to be tamed by “modern” civilization. As they continue, Dom trips and hurts his leg. Given that he’s the member of the group who most misses Robert and positions himself furthest from Luke at all times, this external injury seems to match the internal struggle he faces in getting over the issue and forgiving his friend. Needless to say, his injury derails the groups plans and they decide to cut through an ominous, foreboding forest to get back to their lodge faster. As Luke and Hutch canvas the area, the camera demonstrates just how distant the lodge looks as it seems to be overwhelmed by the forest surrounding it from all angles – civilization covered by the mysterious and natural – a sign of things to come.
The group makes their way through the forest. An eerie string based composition starts to play, starting off low and slowly becoming more threatening. It cuts out and we can hear the twigs snap in an utter silence. The wind blows, a gust against the ears. This soundscape is the forest speaking – a natural language that’s incomprehensible to human ears in easy to define terms, but that generates an emotional sensation – that of fear. The group happens upon a gutted animal, ceremoniously hung from the trees. A hunter perhaps. But as the characters ask, what kind of hunter would be able to enact such a feat, let alone go ahead with it. Desperate to get the macabre imagery out of their heads, they continue until the night falls. A heavy rain covers the group, incentivizing them to stay the night in an abandoned cabin straight out of the Evil Dead. They explore the relic from the past and find a host of disturbing religious paraphernalia. Combined with the gutted animal, the images provide too much for the group who have no choice but to ignore and get to sleep.
Luke awakes to a bright lit pouring into the cabin. He tries to wake his friends but they refuse to wake up. He goes outside and suddenly he’s transported back to the convenience store where his friend passed. He’s forced to relive the trauma – to experience his mistake and sense of shame once again before waking and realizing it was just a dream. He runs back to the cabin and realizes like him, every one of his friends has experienced some kind of night time terror – a dance with the dark vestiges of their minds, the forest, or perhaps both. The group falls into an emotional disarray as the members are desperate to get over the instance and leave the menacing forest. Unfortunately for them, it’s not going to be so easy.
This is The Ritual, a meditation on friendship, grief, dissolution, and masculinity. From the pub scene at the beginning to the trek the group makes into the forest, it’s clear that the friend group is at a crossroads of sorts. While most of the members have seemingly grown up and become “adults” so to say, Luke is trapped in his “glory days”. His friends have partners and kids. Meanwhile he has his booze. The death of Robert is the camel that breaks the back of the friendship – forcing the party to confront one another over issues that have been ignored in lieu of maintaining a camaraderie. While civilization gave them avenues to forget and taper over the issue, the raw affective intensity of the forest, free from the bounds of society, give them a chance to get those emotions out in play. Their frustrations at being lost in the forest bleed into their original frustrations – Luke’s inability to save their friend.
As a man, it’s expected that Luke should’ve mustered some courage and fight for his friend. His friends might not outright say it, but they all believe it to some effect. This is constantly reflected in the blocking of the characters in position to Luke. When he’s not apart from the others, he’s always placed closest to Hutch, then Phil, ending with Dom – a reflection of the different levels of grief, acceptance, and culpability his friends feel about him and Rob’s death. The group has ignored the emotional wounds between them in an attempt to pretend everything is okay – another sign of a failed masculine overcoding that can’t reckon with the situation. Being bros somehow translates to not showing emotions, not accepting a place for weakness and vulnerability. This point is repeated by the shared dream sequence. Despite each member of the group having gone through something harrowing at night, experiencing psychologically painful visions, they refuse to talk about. Hutch even exclaims he doesn’t want to psychoanalyze because there are real issues at stake – as though the emotional damage the group feels is not real. The group of “friends” would rather beat the piss out of each other than genuinely talk to each other, a violent reaction as opposed to a vulnerable discussion. It’s a value statement that reflects the way emotional sensibilities are pushed aside by civility. It’s no coincidence that the group is forced to deal with their emotions once they’re outside of the bounds of the same.
The setting of the story constantly reflects this internal struggle, making it something we see and hear. As I’ve mentioned the score (which sounds similar in feeling to that of The Witch) and the crisp sound mixing give the forest a genuine sense of agency. Every branch being crushed, every gust of wind that feels like a spectral entity speaking, every random sound of movement gives the forest a voice. The music which starts off low becomes more boisterous and ceremonial sounding, ritualistic as the movie title suggests. It’s an unnerving soundscape that works at ratcheting up the tension while giving the movie’s emotional undercurrent a palpable measure. This is exemplified the most in the ending song of choice, which I won’t spoil, but will say succinctly ties the movie up beautifully. At a visual level, the camera constantly positions the group in the midst of long and looming trees, with ominous branches moving out like sets of hands literally threatening to come out and grab them at any time. There are multiple shots of just the scraggly and wicked looking branches, which look like they could poke an eye out if not careful. It’s an effective reminder of the way the emotional turmoil the group is facing risks swallowing them entirely, the weight of their emotions actively covering up and encroaching the spaces the characters place themselves in.
Effective mood and atmosphere – this is how the movie manages to completely enrapture the audience in the terror its characters face. The fact that the story starts with Robert’s violent death sets the tone for everything that’s to come – it sets an expectation that this is a story motivated by loss, whether that be loss of a friendship, loss of identity, or loss of loved ones. The move to the forest and the effective utilization of familiar horror tropes -creepy cabin in the woods, runic carvings on trees, unnerving dream sequences, and undecipherable movement throughout the forest- helps the audience get familiar with the story with little effort. Instead of getting lost on the minutia , we’re razor focused on the story of the characters. That’s not to say that these tropes are used just as an easy tool to easy the storytelling – they’re all motivated by the storytelling and a compelling art direction that fully rears its head in the third act.
At the heart of the story is the group of friends themselves. The actors portraying each of these characters does a bang up job at selling the nature of their friendship. From the way the characters banter to the way they emote with one another, it’s clear that they’re a group of all friends who have a host of shared memories and a reluctance to engage in any serious emotional dialogue. As someone who’s had/has many of the same friend groups, I could literally place my own friends in the characters places. They’re relatable, down to Earth, and genuinely human. Because the movie spends so much time getting the audience focused on them as opposed to random story details, we end up caring when things start happening to them as opposed to questioning why those things are happening. Not one of the characters feels one note (even if some feel less developed than others). In fact, they’re so realistic that even their joking banter in the face of some truly heinous phenomena feels natural and gives the movie a levity that doesn’t upend the eerie tension that builds through the runtime at a steady pace. This is effective horror film-making.
The issues with the movie have more do with the movie’s focus on Luke as the primary vehicle the audience gets to experience trauma and overcoming it. As I mentioned, each of the characters has their own take on Robert’s death and Luke’s decision-making during that event, but we only ever really get to hear one persons opinion and part of another. For a movie that’s about breaking open a civilized masculinity in favor of emotional openness, it would have been nice to see the nuance in perspective from the group to get a fuller and more rounded picture. Likewise, this is reflected in the fact that the only dream sequences we see are Luke’s. The other characters hint at what they saw, but getting to see their visions and their relation to them would open up the possibility for a genuine deconstruction of the way over-masculinity manifests. The movie ends up using every character outside of Luke to help him transition from emotionally stunted to open, denying them a unique chance to grow and making them more like benchmarks for the protagonist to gauge character progression. Sure, the run time of the movie might have been another 10-15 minutes if they all got their unique arcs/development, but in the context of what the movie was trying to achieve I think that would’ve been fine. There are definitely moments in the movie , especially in the 3rd act, which could have been trimmed out to make time for these moments.
Speaking of the 3rd act, while I genuinely enjoyed the way it reveals the “secrets” of the forest and the mystery surrounding the groups journey, it comes off a bit jarring compared to the intensity of the previous two acts. The attempts at giving explanations to the mystery feel like they either should have been expanded on or given in a more cryptic fashion to match with the exceptional and breathtaking scenes that end up occurring.
That being said, these complaints should not detract from the bigger picture. The Ritual is a stunning movie that has an important message about overcoming trauma – both at an individual and social level. The way the cinematography and audio work externalize the characters internal struggles is masterful and keeps the stories themes front and center even if we’re not aware that’s what’s happening. Acting is great all around and really helps sell some of the emotional gut punches the movie has waiting for us. Definitely a movie you want to see with a group of friends, especially if you can see your mates in the characters present.
REPORT CARD
| TLDR | The Ritual is an ambitious piece of horror filmmaking that attempts to analyze and breakdown masculinity, friendship, trauma and their relations to one another in a palatable and non-preachy way. The story starts with a brutal death and carries the emotional weight of that event through the run-time, forcing the characters and the audience to engage in a dialogue about forgiving oneself and finding the strength to connect to our rawer, more emotional sides. The technical aspects of the movie are stunning from the unnerving score to the masterful art design. If you’re looking for a creepy movie to watch with the boys, look no further. |
| Rating | 9.1/10 |
| Grade | A |
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