Slow cinema has a curious history. Once upon a time, it wasn’t even a thing; for a movie to be slow meant something was taking its time to evoke a world or character. Then the term “slow cinema” was invented, and it eventually became a lazy byword and strategy for a certain quarter of the filmmaking community to be taken seriously — slow cinema is art and legitimacy, even if a title harboured no artistic notions. I’m not going to get in trouble by throwing accusations around at other movies and filmmakers; however, there is a new sci-fi movie on the festival circuit — specifically Soho Horror — where the monotony of slowness is the point. Enter the micro-budgeted, black and white, and brilliantly titled feature debut, Head Like A Hole, from director Stefan MacDonald-Labelle (who also co-wrote, edited, and produced).
Asher (Steve Kasan) is having a rough time of it: no money, no friends, and no prospects. When he finds a notice on a lamppost advertising a job as a scientific researcher paying a surprisingly high amount for a position that requires no experience, he’s intrigued. About to be cut off from his mobile provider, he doesn’t really have the luxury of choice to ask whether it’s too good to be true — it’s his last resort. A short while later, he’s given the “job,” despite his car running out of fuel mid-journey and him turning up late. I quote-marked “job” as I wouldn’t really call it one; his sole responsibility is to watch a hole in the wall of a basement (or “the anomaly”) and report any changes that occur, every hour on the hour — a point his clandestine, eccentric boss (Emerson, Jeff McDonald) goes to great lengths to explain.
As the movie opens, a previous holder of the job violently smashes himself in the face with a hammer, a result of the mind-melting monotony. Thankfully, the movie doesn’t stick with the routine, as that would relegate Head Like a Hole to a more narratively inclined version of Charlie Shackleton’s 10h 7m “documentary” Paint Drying (2016).
Head Like a Hole is a bold, micro-budget debut that weaponizes its slow, methodical pace as a reductio ad absurdum of modern working life.
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The reason for any slowness or perceived monotony comes down to the subtext: what are writers Mitchell Brhelle and Stefan MacDonald-Labelle trying to say? It’s an exhibition of reductio ad absurdum of modern working life: tedious jobs and mindless routines that benefit the ruling class — everyone below is chewed up and spat out as an industrial process. They don’t care as long as they see the benefits from the labour of those they exploit. Any job benefits Asher gets are merely to achieve the best results; his wellbeing is a moot point in this exaggerated, sci-fi vision of modern American living. Therein comes the requirement for a slow, methodical pace — these ideas wouldn’t work within an electric-paced movie. Sure, it will test the patience of many, especially within the go-go-go pace of a film festival, but it’s all done for a legitimate narrative reason. As the trailer says, “work yourself to death”.
Of course, life isn’t just work for Asher, even if he lives in the house where this alleged anomaly is located; there are also his interactions with his manager and the building manager, Sam (Eric B. Hansen). His interactions with his manager all exist within the framework of what is beneficial for productivity, with any human considerations receiving a dramatic, hyperbolic reaction from Emerson. Asher’s interactions with Sam add to the world-building with talk of conversion therapy as our protagonist goes through something of a queer awakening, which thematically aligns with the anomaly and what it represents: a physical manifestation of a fractured identity being reshaped. The gambit here is that Head Like a Hole lives and dies by the sword; as a slow, methodically paced piece where work consumes minds and personalities, it all becomes difficult to connect with emotionally.
As far as directorial debuts produced on a shoestring budget go, Stefan MacDonald-Labelle displays that his imagine won’t be boxed in or constrained by a lack of funds. His small crew has punched way above its weight class, whether it’s the tonally woozy score from Paul St. Laurent or the special effects team, the latter of which results in some brilliantly meaty inserts and a third act that violently reveals what the hole is. It’s an impressive production that fully commits to its demanding pace, but as I alluded to up top, this legitimate narrative choice may, in practice, be a bit much for many.
HEAD LIKE A HOLE PLAYED AT SOHO HORROR SOHOME HORROR FEST 2025
