Wednesday, 7 October 2026

LFF 2026: Ken Russell's The Devils (Ken Russell, 1971)

An image from the film The Devils. An order of nuns are praying in a convent.

Ken Russell's French-set film The Devils is back on the big screen as part of this year's BFI London Film Festival, where it plays on Friday and Monday ahead of a wider global release that commences in the US.  It is difficult to overstate the importance of this hell-freezes-over moment: not only are Warner Bros.—the studio that for so long seemed intent on burying the film—behind this re-release, but The Devils has been restored in 4K and cut to Russell's specific instructions (he worked with the film's original editor, Michael Bradsell, to reinstate long-lost scenes that had fallen foul of censorship).  Fifty-five years on from its initial run and 15 years after its director's death, the result is the definitive version of a work that—even in its previously truncated forms—stands as the blazing apex of Russell's career.


Russell's 1971 shocker, set in 17th-century Loudun, centres on Urbain Grandier (Oliver Reed), a rakish and arrogant secular priest who finds himself in deep trouble when Sister Jeanne des Anges (Vanessa Redgrave), the abbess of the local Ursuline convent, accuses him of sorcery.  These baseless claims prove most convenient for several influential individuals who are scheming to remove Grandier from his dual posts; the priest is also Loudun's acting governor, and has so far thwarted Cardinal Richelieu (Christopher Logue), who wishes to destroy the city's walls on the rationale that such fortifications provide a bedrock for further Protestant uprisings.  Grandier is therefore a political heretic who is tried as a religious one, with the Catholic church he's served for so long gleefully facilitating his terrible, fiery end.


While basking in the magnificence of Ken Russell's The Devils—note the possessive title credit, which serves to differentiate this edit from the cut versions—it is easy to forget that, from the 1980s on, Russell had fallen out of fashion, and those championing his work were few and far between (it didn't help that The Devils, the main exhibit for those coming to Russell's defence, was a tricky title to track down).  But less than six months after Russell's death, the BFI, having somehow secured the rights from Warner Bros., released The Devils as a double-disc DVD that led to renewed interest in both the film and its maker.  While this edition was the UK theatrical version, the missing scenes had been broadcast in a 2002 documentary, resulting in several fan edits that aimed to reproduce Russell's original vision.


Yet back in 2004, Russell and Bradsell had pieced together their own reconstruction of the film, and this served as the basis for this new restoration, which was completed using the original camera negative.  There's something bittersweet about the whole venture: while Russell lived to recreate his greatly preferred cut of the film—a situation that was obviously unthinkable prior to the recovery of the excised footage—he died with the assumption that it would never be given a fittingly wide release.  In my book on the film, my adamantine stance was that The Devils works perfectly well without the restored scenes—a heresy seemingly greater than anything that transpired in Loudun—and, up until now, it has had no other choice. If this is your first time with this unique, shattering film, prepare to be blown away.
  
Darren Arnold

Images: BFI

Monday, 28 September 2026

White Guilt (Marcus Flemmings, 2025)

An image from the film White Guilt. Nine people are standing in what appears to be a garden or backyard setting.

Marcus Flemmings’ latest feature White Guilt was one of a number of horror films that screened at the 2025 Raindance Film Festival, an edition in which the genre offerings were particularly strong; other selections in the same strand included hyper-stylised giallo Saturnalia, body horror Thinestra, and Robert Louis Stevenson adaptation Snatchers.  Over the course of the past nine years, prolific Londoner Flemmings has directed four other features—Reach!, Blonde. Purple, Palindrome and Six Rounds—and has also written and produced Before Nikkah, a film directed by White Guilt's cinematographer Haider Zafar.

White Guilt sees a group of white, wealthy (and presumably quite bored) millennials board a bus to an ex-plantation; each has paid a not inconsiderable sum to experience an inversion of the scenario that once played out on this property.  Thus, these white people act as slaves, while several black masters mete out harsh treatment to their charges.  The lines appear to be clearly drawn, until one of the last members to join the programme, the mixed-race Sally (Temica Thompson), threatens to derail the dynamic; it's quite obvious from the masters' faces that this is the first time that someone of this ethnicity has signed up for the event.


How the masters respond to this conundrum is quite predictable, as they double down on punishing Sally, a process which culminates in a startlingly brutal scene that proves that this whole setup is far removed from the realm of cosplay.  Rattled, the members of the group realise they've underestimated the severity of this immersive experience, and one of the cohort, David (Theo Watt), is on the brink of using a gun he smuggled in; David plans on defending Ellie (Freya Crompton), who, despite having been threatened with sexual violence, wants no such protection from this would-be white knight (pun intended).

It transpires that David is descended from the onetime owners of the plantation, but this only partly explains his presence in the group, as there's an even more personal reason for his being there.  This UK production—which, it should be said, features the occasional wobbly accent—sees the south of England stand in for the southern US, to good effect, and there's a universality to the tricky question it poses: how, exactly, should we deal with racial guilt?  The coruscating White Guilt may not offer a solution, but it makes it clear that the answer does not lie in enrolling in a circus like this, which degrades everyone involved.

Darren Arnold

Images: Raindance

Friday, 18 September 2026

Oorlog in tijden van kunst: Film Fest Gent (7–18/10/26)

An image from the film Claire's Knee. A woman and a man are sat together on a park bench.

Van 7 tot 18 oktober wordt de stad Gent opnieuw het decor voor meer dan 100 langspeelfilms, 40 kortfilms, 2 VR-projecten en 23 documentaires uit 49 verschillende landen.  Van veelbelovende debuutfilms tot meervoudige prijswinnaars, één ding hebben de films op het programma alvast gemeenschappelijk: ze tonen aan dat  kunst in deze onzekere tijden belangrijker is dan ooit.  In openingsfilm Coward van Lukas Dhont proberen jonge soldaten voor even aan de gruwelen van de loopgraven te ontsnappen door muzikale voorstellingen op te voeren.


Slotfilm Le Faux Soir van Michaël R. Roskam toont dan weer hoe verbeelding ook een krachtige daad van verzet kan zijn.  Maar het hoeven niet altijd grote heldendaden te zijn.  Vaak zijn het net de kleine, alledaagse verhalen die de moeite zijn om te vertellen.  Hoe ga je om met een echtscheiding, een gendertransitie of overspel wanneer er oorlog uitbreekt?  Hoe breng je jeugdherinneringen weer tot leven wanneer je opgroeide in conflict?  Ook Éric Rohmer wist als geen ander dat kleine verhalen misschien wel de grootste zijn.  Doorheen zijn kleurrijke oeuvre, dat vertoond wordt tijdens het Classics programma.


Niet alleen film, maar ook (film)muziek wordt opnieuw in de spreekwoordelijke schijnwerpers gezet.  Tijdens de Film Music Days verzamelen componisten van over de hele wereld in Gent voor talks, workshops en masterclasses over de kunst van het componeren, waaronder Guests of Honour Trevor Jones en Hildur Guðnadóttir, en creatieve partners Volker Bertelmann en Edward Berger.  Videodroom, in samenwerking met VIERNULVIER, gaat dan weer de experimentele toer op, met nieuw geschreven, live gebrachte soundtracks voor cultklassiekers.

Source/images: Film Fest Gent