Baghead (2023) is a gorgeously atmospheric tale of female revenge masquerading as a run-of-the-mill horror movie.
Iris (Freya
Allan,) a young woman raised in care and without a penny to her name, is
contacted by her deadbeat father, Owen’s (Peter Mullan,) lawyer to tell her
that he’s passed away, leaving his aging but still impressive pub without an owner.
Having just been evicted from her own apartment, Iris thinks, ‘Hey, don’t look
a gift pub in the mouth, right?’
But The Queen’s Head comes with a catch: there’s a woman in the basement.
Sort of.
She started
out a woman, anyway.
Now, she’s an undead entity under the control of whoever currently owns the pub.
Just sign on the proverbial line and the pub – and the woman (who’s never named but I’m going
to call Baghead for convenience –) is all yours.
Or… you’re all
theirs…
Desperate,
seemingly heartbroken Neil (Jeremy Irvine) shows up, begging to see her – and
offers a big ole wad of cash to do it. Iris, who’s never had anything, finally
sees the kind of future she’s never been able to envision before. That is to
say any kind of future, funded by rich schmucks like Neil who are more
than happy to throw thousands of bucks at her for a couple of minutes in her
basement.
(Not a
euphemism, though I’m sure we could make some kind of connection between women
being enslaved by other people profiting from their talents but let’s leave
that for another day.)
The one
constant in Iris’s life, her best friend, Katie (Ruby Barker,) is the voice of reason
throughout, warning Iris that they’re not safe – a warning that, in her
desperation for something to call her own, Iris obviously ignores.
Well, not
completely.
She’s a savvy,
independent, modern woman. She’s smart enough, at least, to set out rules. To
tell Baghead what she can and can’t do. Very smart. And the creepy-ass entity
in the basement even plays by the rules.
Because
it’s easy to play by the rules when there are selfish, twisted, cruel men in
the world who don’t that are just too easy to manipulate.
Spiler
alert: poor, heartbroken Neil is nothing of the sort.
The
foreshadowing here is masterful and takes a second viewing to really appreciate.
Like all evil men, Neil even tells Iris not to trust him.
Lighting is
one of the areas where Baghead excels. I dislike this new trend in
horror movies that goes for the too-dark-to-see-shit vibe. Dude. I paid to see
a movie, I’d like to fucking see it, thanks. Baghead bucks the
trend, being beautifully lit all the way through, using shafts of light in just
the right places and highlighting details in the background for the perfect
ambiance.
It also
helps emphasize Neil’s decent into… well, his true self. As the mask slips and
we see more of who he really is, the way he’s portrayed on screen changes
almost imperceptibly until his hair hangs loose and wild across his face and the
madness in his eyes is highlighted.
In short,
the camerawork is beautiful – but not in an artsy fartsy, roll-your-eyes kind
of way. It’s just cleverly shot and pretty to look at. I was most impressed by
the way The Queen’s Head was treated like a character and given just as much
screen time. You view other characters through The Queen’s eyes, looking down
her hallways or through doorways and windows at them, making her a living,
breathing member of the cast.
And no one
in this movie is safe, even The Queen herself.
I cannot
say enough how much I loved the ending of Baghead. It was satisfying in
so many ways. You’re there, waiting for the moment Iris will be miraculously
saved from her tormentor… but no. It doesn’t give you the happy ending
you’re expecting – and I could have fucking cheered for that.
But then it
got better.
Because you
learn that the woman in the basement isn’t just a baddie for baddie’s sake.
She’s been wrong a million times over. Like all powerful women through history,
she was abused by men, killed when they couldn’t control her, and imprisoned
when she just. Wouldn’t. Stay. Dead.
She was
never the bad guy.
She just
wanted her freedom.
Which was
all Iris wanted, in a way, wasn’t it?
So I think it’s
just absolutely fucking perfect that Baghead, trapped by the wrongs of greedy
men, and Iris, trapped by the shackles of poverty, become one and the same and,
in doing so, find their freedoms. As an Elder Millennial who’s watched the tide
of women’s futures ebb and flow over the years, I cannot even begin to express the
power behind that message.
The way forward,
the way out for all of us is together, as one.
And, hey, if
we have to burn our prisons down to get freedom, so be it.
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4.5/5)