Censor

Prano Bailey-Bond's Censor, her debut feature, is compelling psychological horror film. Enid (Niamh Algar) works as a censor for the British government during the "video nasties" era of the early 80s. A movie she watches uncannily parallels the disappearance of her sister long ago and unsettles the repressed Enid. Enid tries to seek out the auteur of the film, a schlockmeister named Frederick North, in the hope that he will be able to offer clues about her sister's whereabouts. However, the process leaves Enid unhinged and, by film's end, her life has morphed into a video nasty.

Ms. Bailey-Bond love of film, even its most disreputable examples, suffuses Censor. The director plays with film stock, film grains and aspect ratios, displaying a connoisseur's knowledge and a playful wit. The first half of the film uses desaturated color to emphasize Enid's repression (she always has her top button buttoned and her hair in a bun) and the stifling nature of working in a bureaucratic environment. There is a lot of taupe and grey greens.  As Enid loses her hold on reality, lurid reds, pinks and blues appear to signal her derangement (as above).

A good point of comparison is another recent film from the UK about a young woman's descent into madness, Saint Maud. While Censor shows more of a sense of visual imagination, Saint Maud offers better characterization and a firmer narrative construction. The attempts in Censor to offer a broader social context often seem facile. Mrs. Thatcher is equated to repression which is equated to some sort of bad mojo. There may be some sort of poetic or actual truth in this, but it is merely wispy background noise in the film. Has there ever been a UK film that has viewed Mrs. Thatcher positively or even ambivalently? I have not seen one. 

All in all, though, Censor is an extremely promising first feature. The production is handsomely appointed without being ostentatious. A peeve of mine is period pictures where all the furniture and technological gadgets are au courant and sparkling. The offices in Censor are filled with dowdy hangovers from the 60s and 70s and are all the better for it. Ms. Bailey-Bond handles her cast with aplomb. I particularly enjoyed Michael Smiley's relish in playing a sleazy producer. Recommended to all who don't mind a decapitation or two in their film fare.