Member review

A monster calls strikingly takes you on the palpable yet familiar journey of grief. Not only is it heart-wrenching and emotive, it opens your eyes on how the process of bereavement can either push us together or pull us apart. Conor, a 12 year old boy struggles with the arduous experience of remorse due to his mother’s life-threatening battle through cancer. However, although grief is a universal struggle, Conor’s story is different. He is frequently visited at 12:07 from a monster in the form of a yew tree bringing with it, the promise of 3 stories. His battle of adult responsibility, bullying and simply putting on a brave smile causes an poignant performance opening our eyes to the veiled topic of young carers.

The cinematography drives the movies melancholic atmosphere and consistently provides much for the eyes to devour upon. The visual work by Oscar Faura effortlessly flows between the pain of real life and the euphoric world of Conor’s imagination. This is delivered through sectors of beautiful, watercolour inspired animation and the ferocious yet dismal reality. Much like the book, the film is visualised through Conor’s eyes. His sensitivity and astute behaviour become gradually filled with resentment and confusion by the injustice of his mother’s illness. This inner complexity is executed through close-ups of his melancholic face, and revealing eyes staring out at he world he so distrusts. When Conor and his mother are watching King Kong, he admires the strength of King Kong’s powerful rebounds, however the gradual close up towards Conor, displays his dismay when King Kong is killed realising not everything ends in a happy ending, symbolising his fear for his mothers defeat against cancer.

The intricate sound adds to the cinematic ambience. From the snapping of tree roots to the reassuring whispers of a mother to her child, these sounds deserve to be heard on theatre speakers. When the monster arises form it’s fierce roots, a raging symphony plays with vibrating strings delivering suspenseful uncertainty. However when the allegro brass is Introduced, a childlike, youthful essence is added, almost easing the tenacity. This score is intricately delivered depicting the inner complexity of a young boy and his daily battle.

However, the overwhelming pathos and distinct pain of grief swept me past the hidden shadows of errors in character development. I would have hoped to see a distinct yet natural development of character in Conor, as any tragedy is deemed to have effects. A dissipated willpower or a strengthening durability towards the resolution would have caused the movie to feel even more human and touching. The students who bully Conor feel more like plot lines rather than characters with stories.

Ultimately, I would recommend this movie. Its fairy-tale ambience distances the heart wrenching and melancholic plot. The forest imagery of the monster and the emblematic tales break apart the onerous scenes of Conor’s bereavement providing the audience something magical to grasp in the midst of the allnto familiar sadness of reality.