SXSW 2021 Review: The Feast

The Feast is a shocking, gruesome, and extremely well-made horror film from Welsh director Lee Haven Jones.  It is primarily a “don’t f*** with Mother Nature” modern take on folk-horror, but Jones throws in some supernatural, psychological, and body horror aspects as well. There are consequences for ruining land and ignoring tradition in favor of wealth and industry, as one family is about to find out in the hardest of ways.

Glenda (Nia Roberts) is the wife of corruptible politician Gwyn (Julian Lewis Jones).  They are spending some time away from London in their sleek minimalist home, which clashes harshly with the lush, pastoral setting in which it stands. The cold and angular home was built on the site of a farm that was run by Glenda’s parents, until it was demolished. Begrudgingly joining them are their sons Guto (Steffan Cennydd) and Gweirydd (Siôn Alun Davies). Guto is a drug addict who was forced along to recover from a heroin overdose, and Gweirydd is training for a triathlon to cope with a career-ending scandal.

Glenda is planning an important dinner, and her usual catering assistant is unavailable.  Sent in her place is the assistant’s young co-worker, Cadi (Annes Elwy).  Cadi is dazed, quiet, and a very poor caterer/waiter. She walks around the home wide-eyed, dragging her hand slowly against the brick walls, seemingly awed by everything.  She even sits at Glenda’s dressing table and tries on some antique-looking earrings, then breaks into maniacal laughter upon seeing her reflection. The quiet Cadi goes from just “off” to truly terrifying in a manner of seconds.

The self-absorbed family is too wrapped up to take notice of Cadi’s odd behavior. This is not a tender and loving group. They do not seem to like each other in the least, and it is easy to see why. Guto is pouting about the farm, smoking blunts and sniffing chemicals. Gweirydd is creepily gazing into a mirror while fondling himself in his cycling gear. Gwyn is hunting rabbits and takes credit for shooting two that were already dead and strung up in the forest. Glenda is telling Cadi about the few items she kept of her mother’s, and how “primitive” they now seem. A great bit of foreshadowing from Roger William’s tight script.

Small acts of foreboding bloodshed start to occur. An axe head injures Guto’s foot, Gweirydd nicks himself in a very intimate area while shaving, and Glenda cuts her hand while cutting fruit.  Based on the malevolent tone of the film so far, we know there is much more to come. The Feast is extremely effective at building pure dread. Bjorn Bratberg’s voyeuristic cinematography and Samuel Sim’s unsettling score both aid the mounting tension of the film.

The Feast’s titular event only involves 2 other guests: Gwyn’s slimy business partner Euros (Rhodri Mielir), and Glenda’s old friend Mair (Lisa Palfrey), who runs a neighboring farm with her husband.  Farmer Mair is extremely out of place in this chic setting. She is not impressed by the house, likening Glenda’s escapist sauna to a prison cell. She ends up leaving early, but not before issuing a warning to Glenda. One which Glenda snobbishly dismisses. Bad call.

The Feast’s final act descends into grisly, gruesome payback, just as expected. Cadi’s true agenda becomes clear (at least to the audience) early in the film.  But that does not detract from the experience in any way. The Feast is all about building tension and waiting for that hammer to drop, and boy does it drop HARD. Some graphic scenes are extremely hard to swallow (bad pun intended). Regardless, there is also a morbid sense of satisfaction in watching horrible people get their due.

The Feast is filmed in Welsh with English subtitles. Annes Elwy steals the show as Cadi, but the rest of the ensemble is also very strong, if a bit one-note. The action takes place over the course of one evening in the same setting, like 2015’s The Invitation, another superb film about an upscale dinner party gone horribly wrong.

The Feast is a brilliant example of indie horror-filmmaking. The successful blending of several subgenres will make it a must-see for most horror fans. The performances, score, and cinematography build a sense of tangible dread before unleashing one of the more graphic, yet effective, conclusions I have viewed for quite some time.