Coming across like a British social realism picture fused with the unflinching violence and unpredictable nature of a Gaspar Noé film, Cara was something of a surprise. As the feature debut of writer/director Hayden Hewitt, it wasn't surprising that it was good-after all, since becoming a filmmaker only three or four years ago, he had already churned out several mesmerising short films. His rapid ascent in such a short time has marked him as someone destined for big things. But Cara is something else entirely-it's a calling card from an artist who is carving a niche in the British film industry that is uniquely his own.
Lord, do we know that, as a country, we've become synonymous with gritty dramas that take a no-nonsense approach to the depiction of social dysfunction, whether at a state level or on a familial/individual level, as seen in Nil by Mouth or the films of directors such as Mike Leigh and Ken Loach. But Hewitt has melded this tradition with what can only be described as the sort of exploitation elements you'd expect to see in the work of "trash" (and I use that term affectionately) magnates such as Pete Walker.
Hewitt sets out his stall early, adopting a device used by John Carpenter in his sophomore feature, Assault on Precinct 13, in which a little girl is shot after questioning an ice cream man about some missing sauce. In the first ten minutes of Cara, one of the main characters flicks a lit cigarette into a pram after an altercation with the baby's mother. This sets the tone for a film in which anything can happen-and trust me when I say, it will.
To say any more about this film would be a complete disservice, but what I will say is that if you're triggered by violence, it's probably one to miss-there are scenes in this film that made me wince and turn away a few times. Cara is a harsh film, but it's also a very good one.
