Beyond an excuse for splatter, werewolves have long been used cinematically to explore themes of transformation and duality. The Beast Within is a worthy addition to that canon, inviting us into an off-kilter fable of domestic abuse set against an eerie stretch of pine trees. Although the stunning landscape shots are at odds with the eighties soundstages of The Company of Wolves, the shadow of author Angela Carter can be felt throughout the film and its Jungian sprinkling of fairy-tale imagery.
The pre-adolescent daughter, Willow (Caoilinn Springall), is seen early on wearing a red shawl in one of the film’s more on-the-nose allusions while her father, Noah (Kit Harington), is the archetypal woodsman complete with axe and grubby, sweat-stained shirt. Another, more subtle, is the snout-like shape of the breathing mask Willow needs to wear to remedy breathing difficulties, from an illness the film never defines.
Willow spends her time building a model of the family farm from matchsticks, biding her time until the inevitable spark, as she tries to make sense of her father’s disappearances and seclusion. She sees him brought back to the isolated family farm in near dead states and dreams of him being beastly, haunted as much by his presence as his absence. But as the film unfolds, it’s clear that the true monster haunting this small family isn’t Noah the wolfman. It’s Noah the human.
The script (co-written by Greer Ellison, who Farrell previously collaborated with on 2023 documentary Making a Killing) draws from the latter’s own experience of growing up in an abusive household, which he’s described as like living with a ‘monster’. It’s more than surface deep, with the thematic drive of the plot hinged on generational trauma and cycles of abuse. Here lycanthropy is hereditary, passed from father to son. By making Willow a girl — though there’s a compelling trans-feminine reading of her character — we know the cycle of abuse must end with her. Springall is perfectly cast, wise beyond her years, with a detachment evocative of someone who’s had to live in the shadow of an abuser. Yet the sparkle in her eyes yearns with the adolescent need for love and stability.
Although wolves don’t take Harington too far beyond his Game of Thrones tenure, The Beast Within gives him more to do. The sense of brooding and quiet intensity he brought to Jon Snow is utilised to great effect and strengthens the scenes where he flips on a dime, exploding in anger — those true moments of monstrous transformation. But in flashbacks deployed to highlight the duality of abusers — summed up in the line from wife Imogen (Ashleigh Cummings): “I love you when you’re like this” — Harington brings a genuine warmth that makes his rage rawer and more impactful.
The film missteps in trying to avoid any overt definition. Here it strays too far into the dreaded ‘puzzle box’ style of storytelling. The tacked-on ending, little better than a coda, serves to undermine the slow, intentional buildup that came before, obfuscating the film’s themes and ultimately centring Noah’s perspective over Willow’s. The 1965 setting also goes unjustified, besides avoiding modern technology. The rural, haunting Yorkshire setting, and a controlling abuser denying his family outside communication, would have sufficed.
Where The Beast Within excels is in subverting expectations of what a werewolf film should be, a feat first-time narrative feature director, Alexander J. Farrell, mostly succeeds at. Rather than the archetypal lycanthrope flick, the film presents as a haunted house story with all the expected ghostly and gothic images: eyes at keyholes; pale faces peering out of windows; billowing curtains; even Willow in a long white nightdress. Later, the werewolf glimpsed out of frame, at a distance, shot like a phantom. Stunning, naturalistic cinematography, strong performances, a stark score and palpable sense of isolation make for a powerful viewing experience — especially for those who have experienced domestic abuse themselves.
CAST
Kit Harington
Caoilinn Springall
Ashleigh Cummings
DIRECTOR
Alexander J. Farrell
SCREENPLAY
Greer Ellison
Alexander J. Farrell
DIGITAL
19 August 2024
