Given that Neil Marshall’s first film, Dog Soldiers, concerned a group of military men trying to survive the night and that this film, his second, concerns a group of militant (though not military) women trying to reach daylight, it’s pretty clear going in that something’s afoot besides cheap genre thrills. And sure enough there’s quite a lot bubbling beneath The Descent’s genuinely terrifying broken bones and gnashing teeth.
But that’ll have to wait for a moment because the visceral experience of those broken bones is about as intense and horrifying as has ever been realized on film. Starting long before the first creepy crawler rears his albino gargoyle visage, the tension in the film is built around all manner of things real and imagined. Marshall, you see, is plainly in love with the conventions of the horror film and there’s not a one that he doesn’t reference in The Descent. For instance, there are at least two dream sequences that only reveal themselves as illusions after the scary thing leaps out of the dark (or comes around the corner). And such is Marshall’s talent that he manages to reinvigorate these normally quite obvious and completely cliché moments to such an extent that he almost makes you forget that they are cliché. Further on into the film we find the drunken mirth making in the cabin in the woods the night before the unfortunate events that comprise the film proper. Then we have the rebirth of the audience avatar (or Girl Who Lives or whatever you want to call her (Sarah in this case)) as a warrior. And so on and so forth. The point is that Marshall is so in love with the conventions of his chosen genre that the sheer joy he takes in referencing them is evident in how fresh and vibrant they are made to feel.
That vibrant life is also what ultimately makes The Descent so horrifying. The reason that the clichés of the horror genre exist is the same reason that stereotypes exist, namely that they have some basis in fact (even if that fact remains long buried in the past). Once upon a time what has now become horror film cliché actually scared people and Marshall has elevated and reinvigorated these clichés to the point that he is more or less working with all the techniques the cinema has ever come up with on how to scare the crap out of people. And further, without the clichés and hokey characterizations and lame death scenes of most horror films, there is no respite, no reprieve, no letting up. This film has its foot on the accelerator and the scares just keep coming faster and faster and the tension builds higher and higher until you’re either forced to look away just to prove that it is indeed a film or you succumb completely and fully immerse yourself in this horrible environment. Needless the say, either outcome is a testament to the virtuosity with which it has been created. There’s no other horror film that I’ve ever seen as perfectly tuned to maximum fright as this one. While that doesn’t make it Citizen Kane, it certainly speaks volumes about the talent at work and is no less a testament to the power of film.
And of course, outside of being terrifically frightening, The Descent also has a hell of a lot to say about the power of women and their role in modern society. Take, for instance, the fact that the film concerns six women squeezing themselves through dark, wet tunnels and sloshing around in viscous pools of liquid trying to find a way out into the light all while dodging the attacks of skulking men seeking to penetrate their flesh. In that context the film can almost be read as a struggle for reproductive freedom. The women have shunned men and thus must earn the right, through trials that mirror the act of giving birth, to sever the ties that link reproduction to men. In short, they choose to reproduce on their own terms (invitro fertilization, artificial insemination) but in so doing they take on the role of warrior (a traditionally male role) to protect their child and to defend their right to do so.
But what then to make of the fact that our hero’s rebirth as a warrior is facilitated by an attack from the lone female amongst the creepy crawlers? If this is truly a battle for control of gender identity and reproductive freedom then why is the most important battle (thematically, not as concerns the plot) between our hero and another female? Perhaps this is a canny nod to the fact that women are oftentimes (maybe most of the time) most responsible for keeping each other from reaching their objectives.
The events at the end of the film seem to bear out this line of reasoning. As Sarah and the only other surviving female, Juno, near the end of their journey back to the light (and a final rebirth) they come face to face with each other, weapons at the ready, after having just vanquished a batch of the crawlers. Earlier Sarah had learned that the true reason Juno was unable to stay by her side in the hospital after the car crash that killed Sarah’s husband and child was because Juno was sleeping with Sarah’s husband. Now, face to face, armed with pointed blades and drenched in various fluids, Sarah faces the choice of whether to help or attack her friend. That she chooses to attack speaks volumes about just how strong the impulse to restrain other females is. Even at the point of death and after having survived a similar encounter with a scorned female crawler, Sarah chooses vengeance.
Perhaps it’s only fitting that this should be the hero’s final decisive act. It’s Marshall’s last and most groundbreaking reinvention of archetype. The final scare in a horror film is almost always a cheat (think of the final shot of Carrie, for instance, a film not coincidentally referenced more than once here) that is meant to scare the audience but seems almost unfair to the hero who has survived so much. It’s just a cheap cop out to goose the audience one more time. But for Marshall the final scare is less a jump-out-of-your-seat scare and more a psychological wound inflicted on the audience. With that last audacious act, Sarah casts aside the audience sympathy and turns herself into the villain. We’ve rooted for this woman for an hour and half only to find our trust has been misplaced.
In some ways this is equally as cheap as a final out-of-nowhere jump-scare. But it’s certainly different and inventive and creepy as fuck because it strikes at the audience not at a character. And it’s the last in a string of clever deceptions and subversions perpetrated by the writer / director. As such it’s a doozy and as terrifically terrifying in its own way as anything that came before. I cannot wait to see what this guy does next.
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