A tangled, twisted tale of evil that lingers and spreads. Permeated to their souls with evangelical Christian notions, residents of two backwoods towns - Knockemstiff, Ohio and Coal Creek, West Virginia – commit despicable evils in the name of their Lord. Although, as Pollock’s (writer of the eponymous novel) croaky narration indicates, their Lord was often, “lust, necessity or just plain ignorance.”
In the 20 years between World War II and the Vietnam War: a pious family is tried and tested. The father (Bill Skarsgård), haunted by spectres of war, passes on his trauma to the burdened son (Tom Holland). A serial-killing couple (Jason Clarke & Riley Keough) stalks the roads between the various redneck towns, abducting and murdering to fulfil their perverted cuck kink. A delusional, Bible-thumping preacher (Harry Melling) turns on his wife in religious mania. A psychopathic, snake-like reverend (Robert Pattinson) from out-of-town slithers in to sing his venomous song. Far from the worst of the lot, an amoral Sheriff (Sebastian Stan) ties the beginning to the end.
Campos’ great achievement is effectively weaving these disparate and woeful tales together. The ensemble cast is terrific and each command their screen-time with vicious emotional intensity. The brilliant writing, although crutched by a somewhat sophomoric narration, manages to tie each character’s story together (almost too) cleanly. Enveloped by a scarily realistic web of religious proclivity, this Southern saga is intensely dark and melancholic.
Beautifully shot and musically eloquent; THE DEVIL transits from dusty Southern landscapes to hard-boiled character portraits, laden with emotion. Not quite “every frame a painting”, but the effort is visible and generous to the eyes. Just as easily, its music flows from calm but disquieting ambient drones to boppity oldies and uncannily eerie country gospel / worship hymns, punctuated by striking strings.
I saw reflections of a Mallick-like appreciation for multi-generational storytelling, neo-Western stylings à la the Coen Brothers, and Scorsesian moral ambiguity in quick flashes of violence. Alas, once all is said and done, and smoke pours out the barrel of the Luger pistol, Campos’ THE DEVIL is more style than substance. But not due to a deficiency in narrative, only an overpowering aesthetic effectiveness.
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