Christie, on the other hand, nails the icy froideur of a top-tier arts administrator, all murderous self-interest under a thin veneer of jocularity and red satin.
Often naked and slathered in thick fake gore on stage or dressed in Victorian gowns and putting on an equally performative display of diva-grade peevishness off stage, Mohamed has a carnal magnetism throughout. But kinky, horny, grotesque, obsessive, meticulous, cruel - those are all good to go.Īnd no one exemplifies that better here than the two lead antagonists, Mohamed’s Elle and Christie’s Jan. His condition is treated with empathy - especially since he’s one of the very few characters here that might be described, if this were in any way a “normal” film, as likable.įans of Strickland’s work don’t come to his films expecting likable characters, although some of them earn a kind of empathy from the audience (see, for example, Toby Jones’ terrified sound engineer in Berberian or Sidse Babett Knudsen’s long-suffering dominatrix in Duke). Suffering from severe gastric discomfort that results in constant nightly flatulence (alluded to but thankfully not heard), Stones endures anxiety as he tries to hide his tummy trouble (not surprising given how revolting the Eastern Bloc buffets of jellied foodstuffs on display look). The voiceover in Greek spoken by Stones (Makis Papadimitriou, Suntan), the institute’s “dossierge” (sort of like an embedded journalist), is suffused with pain, shame and embarrassment - and not the funny kind. The above might suggest that the skewering of pretension and power-jockeying is the main ingredient of Flux‘s feast, but that satirical quality doesn’t entirely dominate. Given that Strickland’s own erstwhile beat combo The Sonic Catering Band contributes music to the score here, he probably has some idea about what backstage bickering among band members can be like, while he also cites This Is Spinal Tap in the press notes as an influence, along with Robert Bresson’s use of voiceover, The Viennese Actionists and mime artist Marcel Marceau. Moreover, the talk of “dietary differences” that threaten the harmony of the collective - who still don’t have a name because they can’t agree on one, and the only ideas lead-singer-like Elle can come up with are variations on the construction “Elle and the…” - has obvious parallels in the music scene. (It’s perhaps worth noting that neither the BBC nor the BFI, who backed Strickland’s last, In Fabric, are listed in the credits this time around.)
#Asa butterfield movie
It’s not hard to see in the whole set-up a palimpsest of arts patronage here on earth, not only in the more rarefied realm of galleries and academia, but also in the gritty pit of film funding, with Christie’s imperious benefactor standing in for creative producers in the movie biz. Meanwhile, tensions between Elle and the collective’s other two members, played by Asa Butterfield ( Sex Education, Hugo) and Ariane Labed (both parts of The Souvenir, Alps), threaten to implode the residency’s fragile peace. The institute’s couture-clad director Jan Stevens (Gwendoline Christie, her costumes designed by Giles Deacon with millinery by Stephen Jones) clashes with Elle di Elle (Strickland muse Fatma Mohamed), the de facto leader of a collective to whom Stevens has awarded a coveted residency. Cast: Asa Butterfield, Gwendoline Christie, Ariane Labed, Fatma Mohamed, Makis Papadimitriou, Richard Bremmer, Leo Bill
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