Written and directed by Darragh Hynes, a bride’s wedding day is suddenly, yet mysteriously crashed for reasons more frightening than cold feet. Starring: Barbara Soares, John Kelly, Fabien Oman, Joel Alzugaray, Silvana Benedetto, Marianno Caffarelli, Neri Carcasci, Mo O’Connell and Christopher Ranaldi.
Anyone who has spent time watching classic Giallo films of the 1960s and 1970s will quickly recognise their influence on Unveiled. Most notably in how Darragh Hynes employs those fantastically bold reds and greens to add a huge dose of colour, suspicion and foreboding into the scenes, quickly bringing to mind Mario Bava’s iconic Blood and Black Lace. Those vivacious colours hugely enhance the atmosphere and really evoke those satisfyingly familiar spooky, macabre notes.
They also create a great contrast as Unveiled switches from darkness to light. With the cinematography (from Richard Lacey) in those everyday scenes, yet untainted by the film’s sinister side, feeling earnest. There’s a texture to them which nicely throws back to that golden era of Giallo, it holds a particular grain which grounds the scenes. Those two very different aesthetics manage to create a strong balance and do a great job of feeding into the progression, and the apprehension of what’s to come.
Something which is then very well complemented by the score from Oisín McBride, it leans into the curious, ominous air of Unveiled. As does the performance from Barbara Soares who holds a quietly wild eye, there’s something to her look that makes you wary, staring a little too intently, holding that gaze, and it’s well done. It has a theatrical touch, another element which is reminiscent of cinema of decades past in an enjoyable fashion. Much like the contrast with the aesthetic, John Kelly as groom Fionn then creates a contrast with his performance. Providing a naivety, and trusting nature, a classic component of horror cinema, supported by Fabien Oman as his best man, capturing two everyday lads, unaware of what awaits them.
Having the story built around that sense of foreboding and that all is not right works well. The pacing is nicely done to gradually reveal itself, but the reveal doesn’t quite go far enough. The violence is fun and not overused, with the help of the editing from Cathal Nash. The extras who primarily face that violence add a camp touch, another great throwback element, but the motivations are lacking. The execution works but it misses the mark on true satisfying viewing as it’s too vague.
It needed that little bit further explanation of why, who or what brought about this story, but not necessarily all three. It’s definitely a good plan to not spoon-feed the story and hold onto some mystery, but as it stands, it’s left too open to interpretation. A little tease or hint to provide context into the violence could have put some power behind it and allowed the story to come full circle. There are also a couple of lines of dialogue that could have been more pronounced, particularly when the characters are facing away from the camera, as they’re slightly difficult to catch.
Unveiled is a really solid debut from Darragh Hynes, his intentions with the aesthetic, direction and atmosphere are clear, and he uses those influences of iconic cinema well without feeling derivative. There’s a great tone, a good use of contrasting choices to build the apprehension and suspense, and the tension is there. The performances are good, the score adds a great eerie note, and the cinematography is very well done. It’s simply missing that last element to bring everything together, a sharp note, a final punch or resounding finale to underscore the motivations behind the story. It’s easy to see why Hynes chose to really embrace the mystery and ambiguity, but he just relies upon it a little too much.
