If there is one piece of conventional wisdom challenged by the Toronto International Film Festival on a yearly basis, it is Hollywood’s reliance on traditional plot structure and repetitive themes. When a director brings their work to the festival, they can create something original based on a kernel of an idea that has formed in their head, exposing the audience to unique characters, surprising twists, and an entirely new experience. Essential Killing is one of those novel motion pictures.
A Taliban soldier named Mohammed is captured and rendered to Poland after he is tortured by United States forces. On a wintry and winding road, the lead vehicle in a prisoner convoy crashes. Mohammed flees and begins a fight for his life across difficult terrain in a dense forest. Lucky breaks enable Mohammed to escape each time he appears doomed. His resilience and ingenuity – combined with his steadfast dedication to his principles – creates a sympathetic character out of someone who would otherwise be loathsome. Like the title suggests, Mohammed’s acts of violence are not gratuitous; they are steps towards freedom and a return to his family.
Director Jerzy Skolimowski captivates the viewers by showing them the first person perspective of the fugitive. The camera is not an omniscient observer hovering above the fray but an integral participant in the events that unfold. When Mohammed eats strange berries, the camera blurs and the depth of field becomes shallower. When he’s involved in combat, blast cuts create movement. When he pines for his homeland, the audience shares his flashbacks of family moments.
Mohammed’s desperation, the motivation for his actions, is unmistakable. Moving inexorably towards freedom, he encounters obstacles both natural and man-made as viewers root for him. But before he can be helped by a mute countrywoman, he must hit a wretched rock bottom.
One of Essential Killing’s distinctive traits is the pervasive silence. Although unconventional the lack of sound works: someone struggling to survive alone in the wilderness would have no need to start a conversation. Mohammed’s fear compounds his isolation. Consequently, every action has meaning.
The backdrop of the film is mostly white, occasionally splattered with dirt and blood. Mohammed was filthy when he was first captured, now he is clad in a white snowsuit. Despite the gravity of the situation (sadly, it is based on a real controversy in Poland), Skolimowski adeptly combines drama, action, and comedy so the viewers do not know what to expect.
Vincent Gallo plays the protagonist and gives the best performance in arctic gear since Snow Job in the G.I. Joe series. He is on camera for almost the entire film and suffers through harsh conditions. Mohammed is not necessarily a bad person, although those who follow Canadians in Kandahar or Operation Enduring Freedom may feel otherwise. Gallo shows the other side to the conflict: the young family man defending his religion and country.
Unfortunately, Gallo’s performance is somewhat superficial; the audience is left wondering why Mohammed joined the Taliban and why he believes in their tenets so staunchly. Certainly, Gallo displayed impressive physical endurance but he could have told a more complex story. We know what he feels at this particular moment but not how he got here. Also, the scene with the mute woman who tended to Mohammed’s wounds was cut short and could have been further explored. Perhaps the two alienated souls found solace in each other.
Visiting the Bell Lightbox enhanced the movie experience. Whilst the venue has not made any innovations in terms of popcorn or concessions, it is a sleek structure that houses five comfortable cinemas. There is more than enough glass and white marble to go around. It promises to be an exciting site for Cinémathèque, art exhibits, and the festival in coming years. Jackman Hall and T.I.F.F.’s previous offices appear dingy in comparison. Strangely, nobody thought to tell the producers and crew of Essential Killing’s where they could find the Green Room and the group became lost by the men’s washroom, which also contained plenty of glass and white marble. ***