The cinematic interpretation of a cult can be dangerous territory. Filmmakers might feel compelled to take a controversial subject matter and veer off into the realm of sensationalism. Martha Marcy May Marlene is a haunting, beautifully shot film about a young runaway who’s lured into a backwoods cult. The writer/director, Sean Durkin, avoids any sensational attitudes toward the concept, bringing an indelible and humanistic approach towards this kind of surrogate family. The location is undisclosed, assuming that our protagonist, Martha, wonderfully played by Elizabeth Olsen, is not even sure where she is. We never see how she was picked-up and brought to the deranged rural community, and when she runs away, her only relevance of distance is that she’s three hours away from where her sister lives. The less we know, the more taunting the experience is.
The film is essentially about Martha’s post-traumatic experience after fleeing the cult. The rural setting in the boonies is very similar to the infamous “ranch,” lead by Charles Manson in the late 60s. Actually, this film is probably the most realistic and empathetic interpretation of a cult experience, more so than any film about Charles Manson’s wrecked family of drug-induced followers. The writer/director doesn’t paint a family portrait of “evil-followers” per se, but instead, a keen observation of how our lost youth is brainwashed by a deceptively charming, patriarchal leader. First, we must believe, then, we follow.
The narrative begins where Olsen escapes from the cult and reunites with her older sister and her wealthy husband. Her experience in the cult is told in flashback form; as her sketchy present behaviors become more apparent, the director explores how her past has shaped her paranoid mind frame. I absolutely love it when a film cuts back and forth in time without the use of screen titles and still follow a sensible format. There’s fluidity in the transitions, which reminded me of other films that smartly cut back and forth, from the present to the past, such as the impeccable Texas
The cultish family is reminiscent of a hippie commune you might have heard about from the late 60s. We've read about Charles Manson and David Koresh, and have seen similar family settings in Easy Rider (1969); the people live off the land, spend their free time playing guitar and singing folk songs, and get by with the bare minimum. In a cult, there’s usually a leader. Indie-fave John Hawkes (Me, You, and Everyone We Know; Winter’s Bone) plays as the conniving patriarchal leader. He’s created a mysterious family full of youths who are brainwashed into believing in his preposterous society. On the surface, we think they are living a life based on pure existentialism, when in reality they are prepped to submit, both in violence and sex.
There are scenes of unhinged power that reveal the central purpose of the subculture. Director Sean Durkin subtly explores Martha’s psychological damage. I love the look and feel of the film. The minimal approach to filmmaking best suites this complex subject matter. The cinematography is very natural, yet there’s a distinct correlation between light and dark tones in the images. The director wants the audience to observe the tiny details in the frame, and everything is meant to express Martha’s frightened reality. For example, there’s a scene in which Martha is sleeping on the floor in her bedroom. Her body is situated in the foreground. Suddenly, we see urine dampen her pink dress. In the background, a chair is propped against the door knob. This single image reveals so much about the character. Not only do we see that she suffers from nightmares, but according to the background detail of the chair, she’s beyond paranoid. This isn’t the kind of coke-induced paranoia Scorsese depicted in Goodfellas (1990), but the kind where the minute details spell out the protagonist’s present state of mind.
Martha Marcy May Marlene ends on a perfect note. The abrupt cut to black jolts our expectations, and leaves us craving for a clearer resolution. The film ends on a single idea, one that surmises the entire psychosis of the main character; paranoia follows wherever Martha goes, or are they really coming for her?
*** ½ (out of four)
Your insights are frequently superb, as when you describe the scene of Martha on the floor and the film's visual tones. But keep an eye on the spelling. It's Elizabeth Olsen and per se. Nevertheless, insights are more important than spelling.
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