El club

The Club is about of group of former male priests who have been sent to live in a house for supposedly being incapable of properly ministering, when something horrible happens outside their house and a young priest-psychiatrist joins them in the hopes of finding out what's going on, and putting the former priests back on the right track.

The movie has so many twists and turns, it's probably better that you don't know much more about it. And that's something that I loved. It's unpredictable, and the movie just goes along without over dramatizing much, thus making it just a little more real.

Right from the get-go, this is a beautifully shot movie. Every scene is gorgeous, and the gloomy color pallet really helps set the tone. Even the coloring of the house sets the mood incredibly well, and allows an atmosphere of dark sadness to settle over the entire film.

The acting is all pretty good. The characters are convincing as characters, and they react in ways that I think a lot of people would in their situation. This is often due to the writing, which is also great. The dialogue is intriguing and pulls the story along with nice pacing.

The movie is pretty slow to start. When the dog races are first introduced, I thought it'd be about dog racers and lost interest. However, I'm happy I stuck with it because it gets better. Much better.

Despite how well-made and unpredictable the movie is, I found myself somewhat distant from it emotionally. Scenes that should have shocked or made me tear up had little effect. While it captured discomfort perfectly, it didn't quite capture other emotions.

Overall The Club is great. The acting, writing, shots, and story are all very engaging, all with a little too much discomfort. It lacks emotional investment and intrigue right off the bat, but it gets better. In the end I would definitely recommend this movie.

"El Club" by Pablo Larrain as "No" (2012) movies with a burden of historical and political transcendent defining only one side of the coin of Chile. Portrays a crude but important insight into a very small part of a country that is more than necessary to expose and raise it as a reality in the XXI century.

Aesthetically subtle and powerful at the same time, excellent music composition and interpretation of characters. Dynamic parallel editing perfectly achieved that gradually unfolds the story.

The film holds the viewer in front of the screen all the time, almost unblinking. Intriguing, mean and real.

A Masterpiece!

My, this is one forthright and uncompromising. One reviewer suggested this was one club he did not wish to be a member of - what an understatement! Set in a godforsaken western coastal town in Chile, the muted colours and dulled visuals match the dour subject matter, if not the depths of degradation and abuse of power depicted here. Verbal depiction only, thank goodness, as this awful tale of bad catholic priests, really bad catholic priests and barely believably bad catholic priests, unfolds in a house for the repentant sinners. Except they are not repentant at all and seem to view their living quarters as some vaguely inconvenient holiday home. A devastating film of crimes against children made all the worse for the winging and wining manner that the various 'inmates' justify or even boast of their appalling past activities. Grim but essential viewing for anyone not fully aware of just how terrible and just how widespread and all consuming these practices were (are!!).

"The Club" in question is a community of disgraced priests and one nun condemned to live together in a remote coastal resort as penance for past sins, mostly involving the sexual abuse of children. After one of them blows his brains out another priest, a counsellor, is sent to investigate and to keep them in line. Pablo Larrain's extraordinary film is totally unlike any other dealing with abuse inside the Church. It plays like a thriller but is actually about social injustice and is deeply critical of the Catholic Church and I think it's a masterpiece; (it's also very explicit and very disturbing).

Larrain shoots it in Cinemascope in hues of mostly grey and brown as if we were peering through a fog, both literal and metaphorical, to see what is happening. The performances throughout are superb; you never get a sense that anyone is acting here, (it helps that none of the actors are familiar), and the use of locations is inspired. The grimness of the settings is perfectly in keeping with the theme. Far from easy viewing but absolutely essential.

Four disgraced Catholic priests and a mysterious nun live together in a house situated in a remote seaside town. Each must atone for sins of the past. Collectively they comprise the "The Club".

And they don't take kindly to guests.

Chilean Director Pablo Larraín (who also shares writing and producing credit) does masterful work here creating an unremittingly dreary and dour atmosphere right from the opening frame. Even those scenes where the sun is shining feel decidedly dim in his film.

And the overarching tone befits the performances. This is fine ensemble work from the aforementioned five principle characters. The supporting cast is equally as impressive. Together these actors deliver a common thread of acute despondency and resignation to the dire circumstances which have come to consume and define their dismal lives.

It would be an exercise in easy to dismiss, or at the very least, minimize, "The Club" as a portrait of punishing depression and abject absolution. But I will submit that it is more than merely such uncomplicated characterization.

Larraín pulls nary a punch in his raw and unsettling condemnation of an omnipotent organization which has continued to figuratively turn it's head in the face of evil transgression rather than face the sordid depravity head on and work to root out and vanquish it.

The final moments of "The Club" brings the notion of "The New Church" and the suggestion that there is perhaps systemic change afoot in institutional Catholicism. These scenes also introduce a new boarder into the house in the person of a severely scarred victim of that which has been allowed to permeate in perpetuity and practically without punity.

But what we can not know, and what Larraín clearly leaves ambiguous by intent, is this: Will "The Club" welcome their new tenant in a spirit of repentance and forgiveness? Or will they treat this interloper as they have all other unwelcome invasions of their duplicitous commune? We can only hope for the former. Still, there is little expectation that our wish will be fulfilled. For by now we have come to learn in no uncertain terms that this is a congregation whose service is certainly not in the name of God. But rather in the shame of.

"The Club" is not at all pleasant to watch. It is alarmingly disturbing, spiritually jarring and leaves you adrift in a wake of lingering despair. This is not to say that it is a bad film. For it is not. It is to maintain, nonetheless, that it is a film about bad people violating all that is sacred about the human condition. Particularly by those who have vowed to operate in a manner mirroring that of divinity much more so than mortality.