We open with a steady tracking shot that moves through a room of women changing, until the camera settles on one of them. From this deliberate opening, director Sébastien Marnier maintains a careful delivery of information, guiding the viewer through a handsomely staged and often twisty thriller. These twists and reveals make The Origin of Evil a tricky film to review without spoilers, so excuse this critic for being vague.
The woman introduced to us in the opening is Stéphane (Laure Calamy), whom we follow home and quickly come to see her relatable difficulties. She struggles with accommodation, a grotty work environment and increasing money troubles. Most pertinent, we see her struggling to reach out to the father that she had never known. However, her attempts at communication do pay off, as Stéphane travels to meet her father Serge (Jacques Weber), a wealthy but unhappy business owner plagued by ill health and venal relatives. Into this power struggle comes Stéphane, who is met with hostility from Serge’s other daughter George (Doria Tillier), cautious if self-interested respect from Serge’s wife Louise (Dominque Blanc), disdain from housekeeper Agnès (Veronique Ruggia) and eventually warmth from Serge himself. From here, Nathalie steadily integrates herself into the family.
The design of the film expresses the contrast between Stéphane’s two worlds. The boarding house where she rents a room initially is framed in tight shots, and a friend’s apartment where she subsequently stays is similarly cramped. Adding to the sense of confinement is the prison Stéphane visits in order to see her lover (Suzanne Clément). By contrast, Serge’s home is lavish and expansive, characterised by long and wide shots that often dwarf the characters against the location. Yet while this space indicates freedom from Stéphane’s limited means, it also appears as a site of containment. This is partly due to the scheming and suspicion of the women already in Serge’s life, and also because the mansion is filled with all manner of junk, due to the shopping compulsion of Louise. Further compulsions populate the film, as Serge is seemingly compelled to support this family even as they undermine him, and Stéphane reveals a compulsion of her own that steadily becomes more apparent.
These problems could be forgiven if the film’s finale managed to stick the landing, similar to perhaps Saltburn, The Talented Mr Ripley or What You Wish For. Instead, the last movement of the film collapses into gaping plot holes.
Much of the pleasure of The Origin of Evil comes from observing the machinations between the different parties. George especially seeks to wrest power from Serge, while Stéphane seeks to wrest his affection. But is she motivated by greed and ambition as well, a genuine desire for family that she has seemingly lacked most of her life, or simple desperation? Marnier keeps the viewer guessing as the plot develops, with a major reveal part way through casting everything we saw previously in a different light. Throughout, Calamy is an engaging presence, her somewhat doe-like eyes and open face drawing the viewer into her position and rooting for her. The other women prove to be more than their initially self-serving appearance might suggest. As Serge, Jacques Weber is an imposing but welcoming figure, understandably appealing to Nathalie. This does shift in a later scene, when something quite different emerges that could have been an interesting avenue to explore. Unfortunately, this is only the first narrative frustration.
In theory, the intricacy, careful reveals and re-evaluations should make for an engaging thriller, and for the first two acts this is the case. However, the careful design falls apart in the final act, which makes the film a frustrating experience overall. As mentioned, there is a shift in character that is not followed up. There is also a potentially shocking scene that falls flat because of disparate elements, making motivation opaque and confusing, and there are others like it. Along the way, Marnier utilises split screens that could emphasise the need to look at things from different sides, but when the sides are either laboriously explained or left maddeningly unclear, this technique feels like empty style.
These problems could be forgiven if the film’s finale managed to stick the landing, similar to perhaps Saltburn, The Talented Mr Ripley or What You Wish For. Instead, the last movement of the film collapses into gaping plot holes. When a character’s behaviour, that largely supported the development of the plot, becomes wildly inconsistent for the sake of plot resolution, it creates disparity and incoherence. There is a moment when an object is pocketed and the attentive viewer can predict what is coming, and sure enough that does come, leading to the film’s hugely unsatisfying conclusion.
When a film does not convince or engage the viewer from the opening, it is annoying. When it does convince and engage initially, but then fails to deliver on the initial promise, that is potentially even more annoying. You were doing so well, why did you drop the ball? Such is the case with The Origin of Evil. It looks good and offers so much potential, before botching that potential in a way that wants to be clever, but instead comes across as silly.
The Origin of Evil is out now in Select Cinemas Nationwide via Blue Finch Films
