Posted: 01/29/2008

The Living and the Dead

(2007)

At the conclusion of Simon Rumley’s The Living and the Dead, I felt as unnerved and disturbed as I did exhilarated.

I admit that the title threw me off a bit—I was expecting a more classic thriller/horror and couldn’t have been more delighted with this substance-driven, and truly psychologically twisted creation that writer/director Simon Rumley presented us with.

Lord Donald (Roger Lloyd-Pack), Lady Brocklebank (Kate Fahy) and their mentally challenged son James (Leo Bill) reside in Longleigh House—a magnificent estate that, despite its classic charm, has become dilapidated throughout the years. This once beautifully royal residence is now cold and empty for the most part; furniture is sparse and covered with sheets and outside of the two bedrooms and the kitchen, there aren’t any rooms that appear lived in whatsoever.

While some may argue that Longleigh House in itself functions as a metaphor for the Brocklebank family, there can be no argument that it is the perfect backdrop for this tale of dissimilation. While Donald finds himself in a bit of financial disarray (forcing the sale of Longleigh House), Lady Nancy Brocklebank has fallen seriously ill to the point of being bedridden. Donald functions as her primary caregiver but calls in a nurse to take over on those occasions when he must leave the home, despite James’ want to take care of his mother.

It is not clear as to what James’ actual condition is (which was actually quite refreshing in a film—I didn’t have to hear one of the parent’s casually mention the name of his ailment strictly for the audience’s benefit), but it is apparent that his mental illness/retardation make him incapable of responsibilities matching his age (I would be guessing he is in his twenties). James is on a heavy regiment of medicines that begin with a standard visit to a kitchen cabinet each morning to pillage a mason jar filled with pills, two more bottles of medication and a syringe of liquid before bedtime.

The start of this film develops these characters with a brilliant focus on the sterility not only the house, but the methodical nature that Donald’s family-life has become. James is constantly requesting to “take care of Mummy” and be “the man of the house,” despite Donald’s assertions to his son that he is not competent to. Donald’s love for James is there—albeit, not in the more outwardly caring manner as Nancy—but his love for his son is steadfast and undeniable (there is proof of such later in the film). The first twenty minutes of The Living and the Dead function as a well-thought and well-executed introduction to a hellish ride to follow. It is almost a study of the standardization that exists in the most nonstandard of situations. It is well-filmed, brilliantly acted and truly draws you in.

Donald is forced to leave Longleigh on business and calls in the nurse to watch over Nancy in his absence. Unfortunately, before the nurse can arrive, James takes the phone off the hook and locks all of the doors and windows so that he can prove his worth in taking care of his mother.

You can almost hear a ‘SNAP’ in this film when Rumley suddenly takes the ride on a sharp turn and the decent begins.

The still and long-shots and accompanying soft classical music that dominated the earlier part of the film give way to quick cuts, fast-motion and disorientating electronics. While at first, this change threw me a bit, I soon found myself drawn in as the filmmaking style escorted the characters’ demeanor, state-of-mind and the action at hand.

James begins mixing his medications with his mothers while withholding certain other doses of his own. His playful, child-like conduct gives way to true fits of rage accompanied by a deranged disorientation to reality. This harrowing journey into the heart of his madness is only made more disturbing by the fact that he was never quite sane to begin with. The driving forces behind his actions, although twisted in perception are genuinely good, but as a result of his inefficiency to function as an individual, it is only a matter of time before the idea of his caring more another sick individual is as useless as it is frightening.

There’s much that I could say for the particulars that follow, but I would rather not in that too many spoilers for the film that would be revealed. Simply know this: the rising action in ‘The Living and The Dead’ could never rise high enough to fall back to even ground; the decent is that far down.

This film is not for everyone. I confess that I literally felt sick to my stomach in certain instances, which is more than a testament to Simon Rumley’s vision. This study of family, sickness, love and the madness therein them all blend together well in a film that makes no apologies for its brutal honesty, while somehow managing to keep the most brutal aspects of the story gnawing at the insides of the viewer’s skull and heart.

The Living and the Dead is terror as a delicacy. There is no real gore. There is no real shock value. Rather, we find our own deranged attachment to the characters and the frightened reality that we do and do not share approaching a similar plane; the grey area gets larger with each passing minute.

And when that happens, it’s difficult to distinguish the Living from the Dead.

 is a part-time writer and movie fanatic who drinks too much coffee. His blog is here and website is here.

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