Until First Light is a startlingly realized and articulate work from an incredibly unlikely place. I had the opportunity to see it at its Albertan premiere in 2018, and the film has stuck with me like few others.
The film follows a simple narrative of a man stuck in limbo, returning to his family's farm after the suicide of his brother. We are guided through the protagonist's quiet ruminations as he comes to grips with his grief and uncertainty in deciding whether to stay on this farm filled with memories or return to his detached urban life. The film has a clear respect for audience perception and patience, and its earnest presentation sidesteps the condescending pretense and disconnect that has descended like a plague on modern independent films. We see the protagonist go through mundanities such as preparations for his brothers funeral and farm errands, which the director said during the post-showing Q&A were filmed with non-actors in those respective professions. Because the film's sense of place and local color is clearly deeply understood, these sequences always feel purposeful in tone-setting and outlining the slow-paced life the protagonist is uncertain to embrace. Admittedly this slower pace may be alienating to some viewers, but if you're willing to let a film's atmosphere wash over you these sequences will feel incredibly refreshing.
The film's atmosphere is obviously hugely bolstered by director Kyle Armstrong's immaculate visual sense. After seeing this film, I was compelled to view some of Armstrong's earlier shorts such as Magnetic Reconnection, and it is clear that he has an incredible understanding of the power of lighting, color tones, and even digital manipulation. Also Armstrong's immense reverence for the Albertan landscape, highlighted by the stunning prairie shots here in Until First Light and the mesmerizing aurora borealis footage in Magnetic Reconnection, has made my home province look the best it has since Days of Heaven. There are short experimental dream interludes in this film that would make me weary if I were to read them on paper, but Armstrong's command of visual texture and flow make these sequences true showstoppers. The fact that they are perfectly placed in the film's narrative, articulating the protagonist's frustration and fear, is a true revelation. For a filmmaker with Armstrong's background in documentary and experimental film, to appropriately integrate these influences into a narrative work is the sign of a strong auteur.
The central performances serve the film incredibly well. Darren Frank's suitably stoic demeanor has an underlying nuance that seems in perfect symbiosis with the film's quiet nature. Another standout for me was Meagan McKague as the protagonist's romantic partner who is mainly seen in flashbacks. There are clear opportunities for overacting that would be pitfalls for less conscious actresses, but she has the sense to play her scenes in a lower emotional register and integrates seamlessly into the film's tone.
The only thing I found the film to suffer from were a few sequences that felt at odds with the rest of the film's naturalism, in particular the conversations involving the protagonist's mother at the dinner table, as well as the scene with the protagonist's sister near the film's end. The abstract dialogue felt like something out of a more stereotypical indie work, that I felt lacked the film's deeply felt understanding.
Overall, though, to see a new director operate in such a singular, earnest manner feels unparalleled in contemporary film. Combined with Armstrong's conceptual approach and ability to conjure such arresting imagery and atmosphere, I think we are witnessing the beginning of a major cinematic visionary. I'm incredibly excited to follow Armstrong's work in the future!
