Serafima Serafimova
Is evil born or bred? Benjamin Nicolas explores this complex question in WANDA, his gripping adaptation of Wendall Utroi’s French novel with the same title. Featuring a superb lead performance, tantalising direction and a scene so sadistic it will make even the most jaded viewer gasp, this 19-minute psychological thriller is macabre, brutal and shocking – the perfect ingredients for a delicious exercise in audience-baiting.
Be warned: WANDA contains very strong violence and this review features spoilers – so watch/read at your own discretion.
Wanda is 12 years old. With an abusive and absent father, and an alcoholic mother, she is left to take care of herself and her dog Perline. On the morning when she gets her first period, Wanda also discovers that her pet has passed away, and her world finally comes crumbling down, with deadly consequences. Narrated via a police interview with Wanda, the film plays out as a disturbing recount of the shocking events that led up to the investigation. Writer/director Nicolas cooks up a visually stunning cocktail, with the kind of sickly flavours that make it hard to stomach and destined to linger long after it’s finished.
We asked Nicolas why he was drawn to adapt Utroi’s novel into a short, and soon to be a feature length film. “The character touched me, I saw a violent way of expressing how adolescence can be complicated, especially when you grow up without guidance” – the director explained. Wanda is indeed a fascinating character, and the talented Lili-Rose Ste-Marie embodies her with alarming conviction. Her performance is taut and poised, and her expression often almost mask-like. While her police interview voiceover swoons with emotion, her face gives you almost nothing, and the effect is bone-chilling.
At 19 minutes, WANDA never drags, nor does the film’s mood settle, as Nicolas uses our preconceptions to ingeniously wrong-foot the audience. Right from the start, our sympathy goes to Wanda – a child growing up in a toxic environment, heartbroken because she’s lost her beloved pet. The scene with the tampon alludes to the fact that, as well as being an abusive alcoholic, her mother has also neglected to educate her daughter about womanhood, further reinforcing the notion that Wanda is the victim in the story. In fact we are so enamoured by her innocence, that we might entirely miss our first clue that all is not quite as it seems, when Wanda lies to the investigator that her mother hit her as she walked past. Nicolas throws a few more hints our way, yet when we get towards the end of the film, we are still ill-prepared for what is about to come.
I can confidently say that I’m not easily shocked, but the scene in the tunnel, stern and crisp, underscored not by music but the laboured gasps for breath of the injured woman, was so brutal and unexpected, it made me physically recoil. Cutting back and forth between her and Wanda with her piercing, emotionless stare, the seconds seem to stretch for an agonising eternity. Thankfully, Nicolas spares us from witnessing the grisly murder, but that’s not to say we can’t see it (or unsee it) as clear as day. Punctuating it with Wanda’s terrifying smile is the perfect end to a film liable to have you unpacking it, long after watching it – once you’ve got over the impact of its gruesome content.