You know that thing where you pick up a mysterious party drug from your dealer's place, snort it, and then, while driving your dad's cool-ass convertible back to his posh pad, you accidentally drop a joint in your lap and have to pull over real quick? But while checking on those luxurious leather interiors for scorch marks, a battered woman dressed only in bandages clamors into your car, groaning, flailing, and bleeding all over you?
Okay, so maybe the start of MadS, a French zombie thriller new to Shudder, isn't exactly relatable. But through its ambitious cinematography, this freaky thriller keeps us bound to its oblivious heroes, who are on the brink of an undead apocalypse.
Shot as if all in one continuous 88-minute take, MadS gives its audience no chance to escape. This reflects the plight of the film's characters: a group of hard-partying teens who set out for a night of drugs, sex, and dancing, but find only betrayal, violence, and horror. Within this frenzied setup, writer/director David Moreau delivers a uniquely chilling film, emotionally harrowing with a throbbing undercurrent of political commentary.
After his bizarre vehicular encounter, 18-year-old Romain (Milton Riche) rushes home to clean up. The mansion around him is cold, modern, and expensive. As the panicked young man tumbles into the shower, we witness the shock of this gruesome encounter wash over him like the water. You get the sense that the privilege of the wealth and status in which he was raised means he has been pretty much untouchable until now. A phone call from his father confirms this, sobering up Romain enough to pull himself together, feign at being fine, and get dressed for a night out with friends. It's as if he fears his surly father more than the inexplicable horror that just went down in the car.
Soon, Romain is reluctantly scooped up by his friends, and driven to a house party where music thumps, teen drama brews, and he begins to twitch uncontrollably. Is it the drugs? If so, his fiery girlfriend Anais (Laurie Pavy) and her chic bestie Julia (Lucille Guillaume) have reason to worry beyond a romantic rivalry that's testing their bond. As the night goes on, the camera will move from Romain to Anais to Julia. And with each chapter, Moreau sinks his teeth deeper into tension and agony. Sure, soldiers begin closing in to contain the mysterious contagion that's turning our frolicking youths into rampaging ghouls. But more terrifying in MadS is the transformations that play out right before our eyes.
Often in zombie movies, the turn from human to mindless monster is quick —maybe even a jump scare involving a slathering of pale make-up, bags under the eyes, and a slouched posture before a deadly lurching attack. In MadS, Moreau makes a meal of this change, unfurling it sickeningly slowly. It begins with dilated eyes, twitching movements, and emotional outbursts. But these are so subtle that the victim and even those around them might write these effects off as the impact of a bad drug trip. This ignorance only makes what follows all the worse, all the scarier.
With Rachel Sennott-style wild child energy, Laurie Pavy stomps through the streets of this French city, on the hunt for a fight or a fuck. Her mouth opens wide in provocation, her body winding into a manically sexual strut. In some moments, it seems she's enjoying the rush of adrenaline the contagion seems to cause. However, when she batters a random man to steal his bicycle, a jarring disconnect is made apparent. Even as she assaults him with a grin, she's crying out in panic, "It's not me! It's not me!" All at once, you can see the exciting freedom of the contagion and the terror of losing yourself to its influence. Things only get more intense as Pavy's Anais comes across Julia, desperate for reconciliation after a frantic fight.
In an American movie, Guillaume, in her sharp silhouette and dazzling sequined mini-dress, might be a third-act heroine. Perhaps Ready or Not-style, she'd strap on a gun and blow away any threat, including the encroaching military forces. But Moreau is telling a story of privilege and the horrid, unforeseen consequences of it. So, MadS won't offer anything but a glimmer of hope before a conclusion that is absolutely gutting — and eerily beautiful.
Throughout the bloody mayhem of MadS, Moreau laces subtle visual pleasures: the sleek design of a classic car, the shimmer of Julia's dress under streetlights, the radiance of Anais' smile, the pulsing lights of a rocking house party, the glittering lights of a city at night, even the shine of a metal necklace lying across a bared chest. Each of these elements is rebelliously beautiful, forcing us to see the splendor amid the horror. And in this way, Moreau underlines what is being lost. For as the night goes on, all of these things will be ruined or covered in blood.
Chasing his trio across this wild night, Moreau doesn't fill their mouths with impassioned speeches to bestow meaning onto their suffering. Instead, their dialogue feels achingly natural, being about parties, personal insecurities, secrets, and posturing. The sociopolitical subtext can be found in how their night unravels. A rich boy, craving thrills with no sense of what they could cost, means no harm. Yet his intentions don't matter a good goddamn to his supposed loved ones, who will suffer the consequences of his actions all the same. Some mistakes can't be undone, even if your daddy is intimidating, rich, and powerful. And even as longtime horror fans might scoff at the naive choices of these flailing victims, we can't shake off the terror of how much one bad call can matter.
Throughout the film, MadS' one-take device binds us to these characters, allowing us to experience the claustrophobic frenzy and fear at their sides. No cutaways will offer an escape to another location or from the tension. Doggedly, we follow them as they run, bike, and clamor for salvation. We watch helpless as they are as they transform from frivolous to ferocious, their teeth gone from points of pride to pointed weapons. And we share in their horror as the world around them goes from glowing and full of thrills to wretchedly caked in gore and rife with terror.
In short, MadS is a viciously enthralling thriller you don't want to miss.
