Review: Starve Acre – “an ambitious cinematic experience”

Photo by Chris Harris

Crafting a feature debut that results in a critically acclaimed, award-winning career breakthrough is no easy task. Following that up with a solid sophomore effort that consolidates a filmmaker’s talent, showcasing their ability to develop and branch out rather than replicating the same formula is probably harder.

In 2017 writer-director Daniel Kokotajlo impressed with Apostasy, his deeply personal first film about a young Jehovah’s Witness experiencing a crisis of faith. Now he returns with Starve Acre, a folk horror tale adapted from Andrew Michael Hurley’s novel about a young couple who gets caught up with the occult in the aftermath of losing their child. And despite a few inevitable pitfalls that come with translating a book for the screen, the British filmmaker proves that his assured debut was no fluke.

Richard (Matt Smith) and Juliette (Morfydd Clark) Willoughby have moved to the Yorkshire countryside to give their little boy a healthier lifestyle. Owen (Arthur Shaw) is asthmatic and socially anxious so when Richard inherits his family’s estate, ominously named Starve Acre, they jump at the opportunity of leaving the city behind to relish spending time in nature, breathing fresh air and the tranquillity of the village way of life.

In typical horror fashion, the idyllic side of things is quickly overshadowed by Owen’s increasingly odd behaviour, escalating with “Damienish” acts of violence at the expense of a classmate and a little pony at a local fair. Richard is concerned that Owen’s acting out is linked to their neighbour Gordon (Sean Gilder) filling the boy’s head with a local folktale that used to creep Richard out when he was a child, but Juliette sees the old man’s affection for their lonely son as a positive influence.

Whilst Richard – an archaeologist – commutes to his teaching job, Juliette has chosen to stay at home and take care of Owen since they moved to the countryside. One morning though, despite her close presence, tragedy strikes and the Willoughbys are suddenly thrown into a parent’s worst nightmare. As expected under the circumstances, the grief-stricken couple grows apart, coping with their unbearable feelings in opposite ways.

Richard, on a sabbatical from his tenure teaching, spends his days digging up the sterile soil around their house in search of the roots of a legendary oak tree that had been cut down after being plagued by a fungal infestation way back when. Juliette on the other hand locks herself down in Owen’s room and can barely get out of bed. Even the arrival of Harrie (Erin Richards), Juliette’s sister, who allegedly comes to the rescue, can only do so much to break their rut.

Something finally changes when a worried Gordon, shows up for a visit accompanied by Mrs Forde (Melanie Kilburn), a medium, who convinces Juliette to take part to a session that will help her let go and find peace. After what effectively turns out to be a séance, Juliette starts acting as if she’s willing to move on. However, it soon becomes clear that the energy has shifted within the Willoughbys’ home and not necessarily for the better.

Delving into the story any further would cross into spoiler territory but suffice to say that the film mostly remains faithful to the source material. Certain adjustments are expected in the adaptation work but whilst some choices are justifiable and serve the different medium’s storytelling needs seamlessly, others prevent the film from achieving its full potential in finding the balance between the genre aspect and the family drama at the core of the story.

Daniel Kokotajlo does an outstanding job at creating an atmospheric piece that gets under your skin with its eerie soundscape, unnerving score and stylish cinematography. The period production is rich in detail without shouting that it’s the 70s but subtly giving out a suspended-in-time vibe. The casting is spot on with Smith and Clark believably portraying grief in their diametrically opposed ways and giving into the horror twists with subdued vigour.

What doesn’t always work is the pacing. I’m a sucker for a good slow-burner and for a horror film that chooses ambience over cheap thrills. In that respect there’s only one fully-fledged, proper jump-scare, that’s especially effective because it’s unexpected and isolated rather than drowned in a relentless sequence of them. But this is a story where not a lot happens and it could’ve used a couple of other tension-charged moments to liven up the pace in the lead-up to its out-there climax, which may feel unearned by the time we witness it.

As it stands, Starve Acre captures the essence of the novel in terms of tone, themes and symbolism but maybe sacrifices bits of the characters’ backstories and dynamics whose specificity could’ve made the final act more satisfying and less predictable, despite its impossible-to-deny iconic final image. But I guess we can forgive Kokotajlo for these shortcomings and still applaud him for delivering an ambitious cinematic experience, striving to balance style and substance within the confines of a genre film.

Starve Acre is in UK cinemas now.