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An era of rising anxieties around pregnancy and motherhood has spurred a recent mini-explosion in horror films revolving around such topics, many decades after “Rosemary’s Baby” broke that particular ice. Andrea Corsini’s debut feature “Ferine,” which expands on his same-named 2019 short, manages to mingle a paranoiac, violent take on the same themes with a creature-transformation conceit a la “Cat People.” Like Paul Schrader’s 1982 version of the latter, this is an upscale genre piece whose pretensions towards Art are upfront, starting with a quotation from no less than Schopenhauer.
The somewhat muddled tale of a wealthy foreigner in Italy, going feral from the pressures of maternity both lost and found, feels longer on rather lofty style than substance for some time. But the film, which recently premiered internationally at Fantasia, ultimately works up enough of a perverse froth to attract fans of screen fantasy in forms more sophisticatedly packaged than the pulpy norm.
Irina aka Irene (Irish actor Carolyn Bracken, who played dual roles in Damian McCarthy’s “Oddity”) is an apparent artist and collector drawn back to an estranged mother’s terrain by her funeral. She is, however, just exiting those fields, to the dismay of high-end gallerist Alfredo (Marco Gambino) and her erstwhile collaborator Till (Ilario Calvo). Having apparently suffered numerous prior miscarriages, she’s now turned to surrogacy, planning to adopt the baby about to be born to an Italian local, Anita (Uliana Kuzmina). When the latter has a post-birth panic about surrendering her child, Irina simply absconds with it from the private hospital facility in the middle of the night, knowing the destitute young woman is unlikely to pursue any legal or other options.
Unfortunately, a prologue has already alerted us to the fact that a wild animal being trafficked has escaped its cage and vehicle, fleeing into the same woods Irina’s chauffeur now drives through. There is a collision, which adoptive mother and newborn survive — but the beast that caused the accident takes another victim. Afterward, Irina is understandably traumatized, refusing to explain what’s happened to closest friend Rosa (Paola Lavini). She behaves ever more strangely, developing a predatory carnivorous streak, as if invaded by the spirit of the exotic cat that had consumed “her” child.
Rosa suggests she compensate by taking in little Giulia (Elisabetta Caccamo), an angelic tot with a neglectful junkie mother (Elodie Gay). But this replacement adoption has strings attached, in the form of a father (Fabrizio Odetto) who’d already been trying to get Giulia away from his dissolute ex, and is not about to hand her over to some rich third party. Irina’s hunger and possessiveness both escalate, leading to the (offscreen) murders of anyone who gets in the way — of her parenting, or a meal.
Meanwhile, she is about to meet her match in the frostily authoritative older woman known as Dama (Caroline Goodall), whose illicit trade has generated great wealth… but recently hit a snag in the escaped rare South American jaguar now roaming the countryside. Seeking that four-legged creature, she too is willing to eliminate anyone who acquires too much knowledge on her path, and to potentially acquire the even rarer curiosity of a two-legged beast acting like a quadruped.
Corsini and Massimo Vavassori’s script is needlessly cryptic at times, leaving the central figure too much of an abstraction. Are she and Rosa lovers? What exactly is Irina’s relation to art — more painter or patron? This is yet another movie that aims rather clumsily for shock value by dwelling on consumption and meat, like many a grisly eating-disorder horror opus of late. But when we witness the bloody, fleshy, carcass-eviscerating gallery performance by a “transgressive artist” Irina has previously been associated with, it’s like an unintentional Eurotrash parody of things that were the cutting edge in modern art forty or fifty years ago.
The suspense grows more effective past the one-hour mark, once Dama takes control of the narrative, with Irina, Rosa and Giulia variably helped and hindered by her steely mechanizations. There’s no great surprise to where things ultimately head, but the last lap or so of a captivity sure to go wrong does work well enough as twisty psychodrama.
“Ferine” has an elegant veneer in Fabrizio La Palombara’s widescreen cinematography, Pino Donaggio’s characteristically lush orchestral score, and Carlotta Desmann’s posh production design. The house Irina lives in, a striking Brutalist manse whose concrete sections rise to defy gravity, makes a significant aesthetic contribution in itself. The actors are all admirably committed (not least winsome newcomer Caccamo), though at times you might wish their skill was expended on material less heavy-handed in its metaphors and more nuanced in its character writing. In many respects, “Ferine” is an impressive first feature, but it also suffers from a familiar flaw: You can tell the director thinks he’s crafting a singular masterpiece, and that assumption shadows results that aren’t brilliant or original enough to take themselves quite this seriously.
English (US) ·