SXSW Review: 'Rare Beasts' is an Ambitious Debut Brimming with Dense Aims
“I dont want this to be some three year arrangement where you're hemorrhaging your youth to no end.”
This line starts Mandy (Billie Pipe) and Pete’s (Leo Bill) relationship, or at least the year-long trial run they both agree to before they reassess marrying and spending the rest of their lives together. Love is absurd to both them and in and of itself. They aren’t looking for the type you find on the silver screen because they know the reality of love. This wouldn’t be the first film to try to sell an audience on that notion, many of which have already succeeded. On paper Rare Beasts seems to throw its hat in that same ring but writer/director/star Billie Piper’s ambitious debut is brimming with things to say if you’re willing to stand its density.
Through Mandy’s eyes we see the world. It’s filled with women internally chastising themselves for their insecurities and men oblivious to their surroundings. Men are bosses, coworkers self-divide by gender, and people don’t need a partner to survive, but they want one nonetheless. At least, Mandy does. She has a child with an ex so she isn’t naive when it comes to a partner. She has experienced life to an extent where you know her world view has changed because of it. You understand her concerns and expectations for a significant-other, but even so, the world looks so different through her lens. Rare Beasts’ cinematic language is so intertwined with Mandy’s insecurities that the audience is asked to see every eccentricity of the film through that prism. Dialogue is unfiltered and blunt much like Mandy. People speak in a primal insecurity, lacking nuance or compassion. Paranoia is palpable. “Women live in this world that seems like nuclear warfare that no one else lives in,” Pete exclaims in a tense moment with Mandy as their potential wedding date looms. Disregarding Pete’s lack of empathy in the moment, his line almost feels like a wakeup call to a lost point of view. Historically, and for the majority of, cinema has been told through a decidedly male lens and critiqued by other such men. However representative of Mandy’s view is that of other women, it is a refreshing choice to see a film that looks, acts and thinks from her perspective if nothing else.
To its critical merit and entertainment drawback, Rare Beasts takes every moment it can to be subversive. When Mandy and Pete find themselves being intimate for the first time, Mandy undresses and asks “Do you like it…er… I mean, do you like me?” In a sentence, Piper the writer has concisely distilled objectification and misplaced self-worth together for her characters to discuss. It’s an important and underrepresented topic on the silver screen that plays out in a genuine moment between our two leads. It is powerful to see the effects of the idea that a typical man currently does not feel the same pressure to hate his own body that a typical woman might. The idea has a right to screentime. But the audience has a right to the time to sit with it and comprehend every nook and cranny of Piper’s ideologically. Unfortunately the film’s pace does not allow for that. Rare Beasts is so stop and start that most scenes feel self contained and episodic. Scenes that fall flat don’t leave a residue because of this but it’s at the cost of the overarching narrative. The film and its structure are abrasive enough to create a disconnect with its characters. Instead Mandy and Pete feel raw and distant. This is not to say that the film isn’t sensible, provocative, and well intentioned. It just feels exceedingly overstuffed and tough to sift through to get to those worthwhile parts at times. Piper has lit a spark with Rare Beasts, but the fire needs more coaxing to grow. Emotional beats of the movie feel like one of its subversive needle drops, cut short just before you want it to be. But perhaps it’s never a bad thing to leave the audience wanting more.
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