SUNDANCE 2021: CENSOR

The year is 1985, and the rise of video nasties — the bloody and gory low-budget horrors distributed in the form of VHS — has created a moral panic and public hysteria in the UK. The right-wing and parent groups believe that such films (as ridiculous as this sounds) are the main reason why the numbers of violence keeps increasing. So they demand a ban, or at least a detailed censorship. This historical context, which in so many ways mirrors today’s topics of cancel culture, is at the core of Prano Bailey-Bond‘s impressive directorial debut Censor. Though the movie doesn’t really delve deep into this complicated subject, it still does enough to keep you on your toes.

The Lady With A Trauma

Censor follows Enid Baines (Niamh Algar), a dedicated and meticulous film censor tasked every day with reviewing horror films before they are released to the public. She believes that her work is what will “protect” them from traumatic imageries often found in video nasties. But the movie makes it clear from the very beginning that protection is not actually the main reason or motivation behind Enid’s vocation. Rather, it’s a childhood trauma that she’s been bottling inside for years.

When she was a kid, Enid experienced a massive loss. Her sister disappeared — and had most likely died — while the two were playing together in the woods. And the guilt and grief that comes from this tragedy have since impacted Enid’s life. She believes that if she can protect the public from excessive violence, things like what happened to her sister won’t happen again, which, of course, is not true. Things still eventually happen. People still kill each other. And horror films, as Bailey-Bond seems to suggest, shouldn’t be the ones to blame.

Censor, at its center, raises a question about whether arts, in particular horror films, are responsible for real-life violence or not. And these certainly make the film very thought-provoking. But Bailey-Bond and Anthony Fletcher‘s script, unfortunately, does not offer many compelling arguments about these subjects. The movie is only interested in poking fun at them, though, in the end, it doesn’t make it any less enjoyable. What Censor lacks in complexity — in terms of its broader themes — it thankfully makes up in the smaller, personal plot of its lead character. Enid’s journey and the film’s exploration of her inner psyche are gripping from start to finish. But it’s on the second act of the film after things take a sinister turn for Enid, where Censor is at its most excellent.

Through Enid’s descent into madness, Censor is able to show us how consuming grief might get, and how when we’re unable to process it with reality, we often fill the hole using ideas and fiction. In Enid’s case, this begins right after she discovers a horror movie called “Don’t Go In the Church.” The story from the movie, in which a young woman is killed by a man, brings up all the memory of the disappearance of Enid’s sister, opening her old wound which pushes her even deeper down a rabbit hole.

Enid assumes that her sister is not actually dead and that the actress who stars in the movie, Alice Lee (Sophia La Porta) is actually her sister. So in an attempt to prove her assumption, she tries to track a director named Frederick North (Adrian Schiller), hoping that he has information on where her sister might be now. But it’s all, of course, only an image created by Enid as a way to cope with her trauma and guilt. The reality might not be what she expects at all, which makes her journey all the more intriguing.

Bailey-Bond‘s skill as a director is on full display when she zooms in on the blurred line between the fiction made up by Enid’s mind and the real truth. But what eventually holds it all together is Algar‘s detailed performance. Her display of emotions, even when Enid has gone full unhinged, is always clear. We feel her helplessness and fractured soul as she keeps going in full-denial. And by the time we reach the chaotic climax, we can’t help but feel sorry for Enid because of Algar‘s star-making turn in the movie. This is a great collaboration from an assured first-time director with her actor, and that’s what makes Censor, in spite of its many shortcomings, so irresistible.

A Technical Marvel

Visually, Censor is never less than masterful. Taking plenty of references from ’80s low-budget horrors, Bailey-Bond has made a love-letter full of breathtaking details: a dash of red lighting reflected by a projector smoke, grainy looks, playful aspect-ratio changes that happen toward the end of the movie — everything is crafted expertly. Bailey-Bond clearly understands how to emphasize the horror of her story using visual language from the ’80s without ever once ending up only like a gimmick.

Paulina Rzeszowska‘s production design always looks slick and minimalist. But the MVP of the movie is the music. Tim Harrison‘s captivating sound design, along with Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch‘s synth-heavy original score, conjures a sense of discomfort that adds to the movie’s eeriness even more. It’s nearly impossible to not get chills while experiencing the audio in Censor.

Final Thoughts

While the movie could’ve been a little deeper, especially in its exploration of censorship and the relationship between art and real-life, Censor is nevertheless still a solid debut from Bailey-Bond. Her masterful command as a director is shown through the mesmerizing vision of the movie and the excellent performance she draws from her lead actor. It’s an impressive horror.