Violence, humour & fear make Green Room one of the most captivating thriller experiences in recent memory.
“We’re not keeping you here, you’re just staying.”
This movie is so punk rock. It’s a beautiful, spine-chilling, green-tinged nightmare of chaotic proportions. A pulpy thriller jacked up on adrenaline that patiently feeds off its audience’s initial dread before cashing it in for shock and catharsis. This exercise in carnage isn’t without a brain either. It offers commentary on the alternative music industry and lifestyle, and juxtaposes the rebellious lure of artistic aggression against the harrowing horrors of its real life equivalent. And the whole thing would be all so relentlessly bleak without a healthy undercurrent of dark humour that endears you to its heroes and ensures you remain invested in their survival.
Yet Green Room‘s finest achievement is the way in which Jeremy Saulnier uses violence: not simply to entertain (or even placate) bored audiences with short attention spans in the way that most mainstream action blockbusters do. Nor is it sadistic enough to be dismissed as excessive torture porn. It’s violence with a purpose, used sparingly in startling bouts of animalistic rage when the tension bottles up to a breaking point. You feel every slice, every shot, every stab. And the resulting experience hits you far harder than you’d ever have imagined.
I adore everything about the way Saulnier has approached the cinematography and visual style of his last two films, and I eagerly await any news of his next colourful nightmare.