It’s uncommon for a film to get expertise proper. And it’s even rarer for that film to be a thriller or horror, the place realism takes a backseat to scares and stress. However Pink Rooms principally will get it. Nothing takes me out of a movie faster than a tech MacGuffin that may as effectively be literal magic. Sure, the phrase “darkish net” will at all times sound a bit foolish, however at no level throughout its 118 minutes does the tech turn into a distraction.
It’s not the tech that makes Pink Rooms nice, although. It’s simply one thing that would have simply tanked an in any other case wonderful film. What carries the movie is the skilled stress constructing by director Pascal Plante. The right slow-burn pacing. And the unbelievable performances by Juliette Gariépy as Kelly-Anne and Laurie Babin as Clementine.
The movie facilities totally on Kelly-Anne, a mannequin / hacker / skilled gambler who attends the trial of serial killer Ludovic Chevalier. She befriends Clementine, a fan of Chevalier who insists that he’s being framed.
Clementine neurotically and loudly defends Chevalier, calling into TV reveals and shouting at reporters outdoors the courtroom. She makes a spectacle of herself. However Kelly-Anne stays extra mysterious, her motives unclear. Even on the finish of the movie, there’s ambiguity about what she was making an attempt to perform and why.
The anomaly is a part of what makes Pink Rooms so enthralling. The film feels unpredictable. Not one of the characters appear reliable or relatable. The world they inhabit is acquainted, but uncanny.
The film lingers in that discomfort for lengthy durations of time, making you squirm. Providing you with the chance to play by way of all of the attainable eventualities that would play out in your head. Is Chevalier actually the killer? Is Kelly-Anne the killer? Was one of many sufferer’s moms an confederate? Is the prosecutor maintaining a secret?
The film inches alongside, drawing out a story of kidnapping, live-streamed torture, and snuff movies earlier than erupting right into a climax that unexpectedly mines on-line poker and Bitcoin for professional drama. It’s finally much less concerning the murders themselves than it’s about obsession, web bubbles, and the media. It virtually looks like a grimier companion piece to David Fincher’s Gone Lady.
