By Thomas M. Puhr.
Unfortunately, this historical importance, as “the first Mongolian horror feature to be released theatrically in the U.S., is attached to a messy – albeit occasionally inspired – thriller that collapses under one (or two, or three) too many outlandish twists.”
Baatar Batsukh’s Aberrance (2022) arrives with a built-in cultural significance, being – according to its press materials – “the first Mongolian horror feature to be released theatrically in the U.S.” A quick Google search verified this: My local AMC had a 7:30pm screening set for October 6. That I’m a ten minute drive from seeing, on the big screen, a Mongolian film that could have been quietly dumped on Amazon Prime or Netflix is a cause for celebration in and of itself. Here’s hoping there’s more such releases coming down the pike. Unfortunately, this historical importance is attached to a messy – albeit occasionally inspired – thriller that collapses under one (or two, or three) too many outlandish twists.
The narrative begins in medias res, with a woman fleeing an unseen assailant in a snowy forest. Cut to some days earlier, as she arrives with an older man at a remote cabin in the woods: their new home. Batsukh cleverly withholds basic information in these establishing scenes. We don’t know the woman’s name, Selenge (Selenge Chadraabal), until more than 15 minutes in; the man’s, Erkhme (Erkhembayar Ganbat), is revealed another 15 minutes later. The nature of their relationship – Are they husband and wife? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Father and daughter? – is also enticingly ambiguous for a good portion of the runtime. What seems clear, though, is the man’s barely concealed contempt for the woman; he force feeds her and plies her with unnamed pills. A new possibility emerges: Maybe they’re not related at all, and she is his captive. Whatever they are, it’s not long before a nosy neighbor (Yalalt Namsrai) starts snooping around and looking at Erkhme sideways.
This first half is fun in that we’re not quite sure what movie we’re watching. Is this a domestic drama? A kidnapping thriller? A haunted house exercise (we get the requisite creaking floorboards and bird-knocking-into-a-window jump scare)? All of the above? It’s difficult to stretch such uncertainty for an entire feature – even one that barely scratches 70 minutes – and the answers, once Batsukh gets to them, are underwhelming and borderline incoherent. Even so, I’ll stop my plot summary here; films like Aberrance thrive on their unpredictability (I can’t imagine the point of watching it a second time), which typically surprises in the moment and makes almost no sense when considered for more than a few seconds afterwards.
The first-time director proves adept at establishing atmosphere, bathing the inside of the couple’s house in a warm, yellow glow and rendering the snowy exterior in vibrant blues and whites. His camerawork is nimble (lots of body cam shots: some striking, others weirdly incongruent). An early exchange between the man and woman as the former pressures her into taking her pills is captured via a series of whip pans accompanied by grinding, metallic noises. I’m not sure what the justification for this stylistic flourish is, but it’s certainly fun to watch (it comes as no surprise that Batsukh has worked as a cinematographer for more than a decade).
Things become tiresome, however, once the narrative’s puzzle pieces start falling into place. The screenplay – credited to five writers and translators – maintains some cohesion when it focuses on Selenge, Erkhme, and their neighbor; tiny details (a disturbing painting, a staticky TV, bars on a window) prompt us to recalibrate our allegiances so that each of these characters, in their turn, appears as both a potential villain and victim. This is all good stuff, mysterious and intriguing. But the script buckles as more people enter the picture, including some of Selenge’s girlfriends visiting from out of town and the mysterious doctor who’s been prescribing those pills. These side characters’ attendant subplots initiate a string of increasingly ludicrous twists. By the time we discover the identity of Selenge’s pursuer in that opening sequence, it’s hard to muster the energy to care.
So, is Aberrance worth seeking out on the big screen? Much like the film itself, I’m struggling to articulate what should be a clear answer. On the one hand, it’s a mess: tonally inconsistent, uncertain of what it wants to be or say, and – despite its crisp runtime – sometimes lumbering in its pacing (it really could/should have been a short). On the other hand, what’s your horror alternative? Saw X? The Nun II? Among such company, this film at least has the perk of being different. I’ll take an interesting fumble over a franchise cash grab any day. After all, an Aberrance II sounds much more appealing than a Nun III.
Thomas Puhr lives in Chicago, where he teaches English and language arts. A regular contributor to Bright Lights Film Journal, he has published “‘Mysterious Appearances’ in Jonathan Glazer’s Identity Trilogy: Sexy Beast, Birth and Under the Skin” in issue 15.2 of Film International. His book Fate in Film: A Deterministic Approach to Cinema is available from Wallflower Press.