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There’s a yearly output of films, good and bad, based on the interdependence that exists between art and society as a sphere of horror. Take The Portrait for example. One might think that it tells a simple story, originating from modern-day horror, but it does not. The film is more like a psychodrama focused on how a person deals with the horrors that have been stripped to more deep-seated, self-reflective, and confusing introspective moments of sheer personal violence. But I said it does turn out to be that: the screeching female being pulled through the woods by a blank, aggressive man. Everything changes the second the movie begins, when we witness a fully-fledged woman, screaming and covered in blood. She is branded a victim, abandoned in the woods. Then we must store up that information, primed to see where this painting is used at a later date. As this unfolds, we are treated to the sight of a painting being executed. Obviously, some crucial aspect of this creative activity is related to the aggression that is being exhibited.
Now we move to the present day, where a couple is climbing through some hills toward a stunning remote house. This turns out to be the old family home of the man, Alex (Ryan Kwanten, who we last saw dealing with an entity in a toilet cubicle in Glorious). Rather than a rain-battered Gothic mansion, this is a pleasant, bright place. But there’s something deeply wrong with Alex. As his wife, Sofia, attempts to engage with him, he is at various stages sullen and reactive. It turns out that he has sustained a catastrophic brain injury, which in part explains his shocking behaviour. Now, Sofia, played excellently by Natalia Cordova-Buckley, is doing everything in her power to build a bridge with the man Alex once was, she hopes that spending time in his old house will help trigger a breakthrough.
The rest of the clues indicate that there is something ghastly about the house, which is very noticeable in the camera shots while showing the couple approaching the property, as well as when they are heading inside the house. Are they being monitored? And let us not forget that slightly psychopathic piece of wall art that they are welcomed by. And this serves as our pre-credit link. However, our attention is instantly drawn towards the couple who is very much alive. Alex seems to have received his ailments during an altercation he had with Sofia which caused an unfortunate accident. Sofia now feels guilty and horrified by what had taken place and as such, has dedicated her life to aid him and in turn try to mask her own feelings. Feelings which she is both unnecessary and likely to be assumed by the audience.
Sofia shares many of her own emotions and neuroses to her situation, similar to Miss Giddens in The Turn of the Screw. As such, when Sofia decides to explore the house, she uncovers a large portrait in the where else? attic. It so happens, In her fingers is a self portrait that is presumably painted by another occupant of this house. Most decidedly astonishing, the portrait features a man who bears a striking resemblance to Alex. While she is in a state of high anxiety, this exacerbates her feeling that something evil, something dreadful, is on the horizon. If the clues were already there, then this serves as clear evidence: desperate people will always look for an explanation to save their future. To her, the painting felt far too much like destiny.
As new characters begin to appear, Sofia is speaking to Mags (Virginia Madsen), Alex’s cousin, who kindly fills a large gap in our knowledge of the man in the portrait and his relationship with Alex. This in itself, Sofia begins to find quite fascinating and then she actually starts to see some of the odd visions and dreams and it becomes worse for her to live in the house. Mags’s tale about a tortured, torturing artist that somewhere hides in the family tree could be, in a way, a reason for the phenomena that Sofia begins to go through, or maybe it is just another burden for her to deal with.
Opening the film, Sofia’s deep, fragile sadness is palpable, and Natalia Cordova-Buckley plays a key role in this. You have very little problems having sympathy for her; she is isolated, highly exposed, and her husband has transformed into a stranger (the fragments of marriage that we are shown through his actions before the accident are very telling. They suggest a lot of misery for her as well). The dread that the film’s atmosphere transmits is, without a hint of exaggeration, uncomfortable, which I believe serves as the main channel for the paranormal events we see unfold. This film does not define or punctuate lines with jump scares, but rather, tell the story through a series of highly effective scenes that are doled out very deliberately. People often forget this, but like most of the greatest ghost stories, the plot thickens slowly, casting kernels of doubt on the context at play: the abuse of privilege, family ties, broken legacies, and most importantly, women.
The Portrait has an overall sense of claustrophobia and oppression. If this is how director Simon Ross and writer David Griffiths intended it to be and because Griffiths quite literally shifted from a VP in Goldman-Sachs to a screenwriter, then good job done. It’s hard to watch this movie, but it is certainly fascinating. It has a unique and superbly developed take on an established horror concept. It is definitely not for those who enjoy high action, but for those who love to contemplate the relationship between human psychology and the supernatural, this is an incredibly unique gem.
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