Stopmotion

The direction, too, is very confident. Morgan knows what a scare is and uses every trick to make viewers fearful of the negative space around the actors and the frames awaiting them. One shot in particular, where a panning camera just catches a twitch of curtain at an open window, had me applauding Morgan’s skill and cursing him for it in equal measure. 

The claustrophobia is realised brilliantly by production designer Felicity Hickson through the sets of Jo Berglund. Disturbing details and odd little anachronisms abound. A painting in Syvlia’s dining room seems to show flayed dancers. An Arnio ball chair from The Prisoner sits in completely unnatural isolation in a cheap flat. When Sylvia and Ella work together, they do so in matching blue dresses that look like they belong on Mennonites. Ella’s flat is decked out in tones that could best be described as ‘meat,’ a filthy canvas of nauseating pinks and reds. As she spirals into paranoia, the film starts to resemble Repulsion, shot from inside the dead rabbit. The gloomy and unhinged atmosphere is also enhanced beautifully by the sound department and a spare and jagged score by Lola de la Mata.

Why is Ella being goaded to work on a macabre film by what seems to be an image of her younger self? Resolving this thread is where the film seems to lose confidence. Morgan has a background in stop motion, and it felt like his technical skill was putting artistic boots on the ground with no clear idea why or where to send them. This doesn’t do too much harm, though, as the mystery and atmosphere really don’t let up.

“…the film starts to resemble Repulsion shot from inside the dead rabbit…”

It is a simple and compelling drama that unfolds around Ella. She is not a happy girl, and this is penciled in starkly when she deals with her boyfriend (Tom York) and a coterie of metropolitan creatives that she seems to despise. The sense of alienation flows convincingly from Franciosi’s performance. Her confusion at her predicament rings perfectly true, and her strong performance is rendered beautifully by Morgan and cinematographer Leo Hinstin. It’s not note-perfect, however. Her warm welcome of the pushy and obnoxious little girl felt severely off. I was convinced scenes had been cut, so sudden and inexplicable was the bond between them.

Shot in London, mainly at Three Mills studios in the East end, Stopmotion uses the city well and with restraint. It feels like it was painted with bricks and fluorescent light, making the setting blankly anonymous. This carries far more threat and immediacy than if they had leaned on the iconography of London.

What does it all mean? Its chief sport is a playfulness with reality, which can confuse as much as it may intrigue. The surreal bent is an undoubted strength, though, when it comes to the animation. It is terrific and should strike a chord if you like Švankmajer or the Quay brothers, featuring as it does similar knotty dynamics and disturbing textures. One interesting note: the film Sylvia works on features a cyclops that could not look more like the character Rell in Krull. Was this intentional? An homage? Again, though, this harks back to my main gripe with the film: I don’t know what is driven by the script and what is driven by Morgan’s skill in animation. I believe this may ultimately be a wrinkle in the otherwise terrific script, as the story didn’t convince me there was any clear reason for these events to be happening. 

Still, this is an atmospheric and beautifully crafted horror film, with its brains firmly on the inside.