Review: Martha Marcy May Marlene
Sean Durkin’s Martha Marcy May Marlene will not be a film for everyone, but for those interested in a brilliant portrait of psychological trauma, it’s a must see. Starring Elizabeth Olsen in the title role (which sounds odd to start with, but is actually ingenious) of the damaged young woman, Durkin’s first feature is remarkably assured in tackling a subject Hollywood typically steers clear of.
Martha Marcy May Marlene: opens 3 February in the UK
Initial scenes illustrate the life of a cult on farm in up-state New York’s Catskill Mountains, led by the soft-spoken Patrick (John Hawkes). The men dine first and separate from the women, who share clothing and rooms with mattresses on the floor. In the early morning hours, Martha quietly makes her way out of the house and darts off into the woods. Outside a diner she reluctantly speaks to a relative on nearby payphone who insists on picking her up. After an indeterminate amount of time, Martha is seen getting into a car and is taken to her older sister Lucy’s (Sarah Paulson) home in Connecticut. Once past the set-up, the plot cuts back between Martha’s struggle to readjust to life outside of the cult and pivotal moments from her time at the farm. She lashes out at her sister, unable to relate to the world she now inhabits. As drawn to the cult as she is terrified of it, Martha sinks into deep, debilitating paranoia testing the patience of newlywed Lucy and her husband, Ted (Hugh Dancy).
Durkin paints a disturbing picture of manipulation, as Patrick strips the girls of their identities and exploits their vulnerabilities; grooming them so he can take advantage of them physically and emotionally. The dynamic is intelligently illustrated, making it easy to see how such men can prey on lost souls. Hawkes is effectively creepy, as his soft approach masks the true, vile motives. Olsen gives a magnificent performance in her feature film début as the tortured Martha, and immediately shakes off the shadows of her more famous sisters. The film’s finest moment sees Olsen overhearing a heated discussion between Ted and Lucy: Martha’s steely glare is broken by a single tear streaming down her cheek, just before she turns away from the biting remarks. It’s a simple, subtle move, but it feels like a punch in the gut. Sad, painful, effective. Olsen handles the emotional intricacies of Martha with a deft sincerity that even the most experienced actors might struggle with. Martha Marcy May Marlene is also strikingly atmospheric. The score is minimal and more of a droning, befitting the subject matter at hand. The two worlds are given stark, contrasting identities; the gritty, overcrowded farm compared to the bright, sterile holiday home of Ted and Lucy. Both options feel wrong in their own unique ways, providing Martha little relief.
Those going into Martha Marcy May Marlene hoping for a goal driven narrative will be disappointed, as this is a proper character study. From the deceptive abuser she identifies with to the normal life she rebels against, Martha’s complexities are the focus here and as the post-traumatic stress becomes more pronounced, the deeper the impact Durkin’s film makes. The slow pace makes it a challenging view and those unfamiliar with post-traumatic stress disorder may be confused about what is happening, but Martha Marcy May Marlene stands as a haunting depiction of severe psychological damage and an excellent performance piece. 8.5/10
