One dude progressing through an enclosed location killing many other dudes in quick succession has long been one of cinema’s greatest pleasures. It’s a simple premise, a simple action, a base repetition. At its best, this elevator pitch has produced films such as Gareth Evans’ tower block extravaganza The Raid. At its worst, and I do mean its very worst, it has produced Kill.
Inexplicable festival favourite Kill is set almost entirely on a train, and director Nikhil Nagesh Bhat clearly didn’t read the operators’ manual. A lengthy snake of interconnecting carriages can make for a compelling cinematic space if framed and edited compellingly. Emphasising the enclosed nature of the space and structuring the film around a progression or backtrack through carriages can be transportive – take Bong Joon-ho’s Snowpiercer for example. But Kill recognises none of this. Spaces are framed repetitively, carriages are indistinct from one another, and an insistence on a flurry of close-ups whenever action or conversation occurs prevents any grounding in where exactly we’re situated at any given time.
So Kill fails at the interrelation between spaces. Let’s turn to page 2, how about the interrelation between people?
Amrit (Lakshya) is an army commando. He’s in love with Tulika (Tanya Maniktala), but she’s preparing for an arranged marriage to someone else against her will. They have a cute little leitmotif when they’re together. I was still on board at this point. Not wanting to part from her, Amrit boards the train she’s taking with her family, but so do a gang of bandits (their leader played by Raghav Juyal, who at least brings a little charisma to proceedings). Shit inevitably hits the fan, and Amrit embarks on a full-throttle journey of revenge through the carriages whilst the train continues to speed along its route.
The title of the film doubles as my review.
Without giving the game away, it must be said that Kill is the most brazenly misogynistic film I’ve seen in a long time. The only women here are plot device motivational MacGuffins and the way this is leveraged is nothing short of grotesque.
Even setting that aside (and the women sure are set aside, quite literally), the action is nothing to write home about either. Everything here not only lacks a grounding sense of space but also any element of real impact. Sure, there’s the wince-inducing crunch of skulls and limbs. If you’re here for that, you’ll get your money’s worth. But when the grammar is mostly made up of brawling, it staggers how many of Kill’s swings hit with minimal weight to them, like a videogame quick-time event where you’re having to press the same button repeatedly but there’s no vibration effect to give you any feedback that your moves are having any effect.
As for the why of the killing, it’s all very simple, but thin too. The politics of Kill are ugly, and it’s a rare actioner that leaves me uncomfortable with what exactly we’re deriving pleasure or enjoyment from here. I’ve enjoyed more unremittingly brutal films than this, I’ve seen art in their brutality. Kill is an empty and aggressively masculine film. I viewed Kill in IMAX. This is the least fun I have ever had in an IMAX theatre. Bored with nothing but monotonous, empty sights, I longed for more deaths on screen only because the fewer characters remained alive the fewer minutes could possibly be left in the interminable two-hour runtime. The title of the film doubles as my review.
Kill is in Select Cinemas Nationwide from July 5th
Blake’s Archive – Kill (2024)
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