SATURN BOWLING

The red light of the club ‘Le Cargo’ pierces through a cold, drizzling autumn night. Armand, the bouncer, escorts a group of girls back to their car, holding an umbrella over their heads like a true gentleman. The girls never lay eyes on him, but his own eyes constantly drift to their miniskirts. After they take off, he jerks off on the parking lot. Yes, Armand is bit of a loser but his luck is about to turn. His half-brother Guillaume inherits their dad’s bowling alley, while Armand has never been more to him than an unfortunate slip. Now Guillaume wants Armand to run it. He’s free to do whatever he wants with it, on one condition: that daddy’s old buddies from the hunting club can keep on holding their annual traditional dinner there. Finally a way for him to prove to Mr. Big Shot Cop and daddy’s favorite Guillaume that he too can be successful. But Guillaume has other things to worry about, like a serial killer leaving behind a trail of mutilated female bodies… Trust us; you’re not prepared for the harrowing, all-encompassing darkness this will suck you into. We’ve long lost count on the endless stream of movies at the BIFFF with a homicidal maniac gleefully chopping up women, but rarely have we see a scene that made us feel as sick and queasy as one here. Leave it to Patricia Mazuy, always a director off the beaten path, to subvert the tropes of the Neo-Noir genre she’s working in. Instead of skimming the surface like so many other filmmakers, she plunges right into the heart of darkness, to uproot the origin of evil. And the heredity of evil, passed on from man to man like a hunting trophy.