It’s fitting that Andrew Cummings debut feature opens with stories told around a campfire – it has themes that date back, not just to the birth of cinema, but probably to the beginning of storytelling itself … not for nothing is this titled The Origin. We have the terror of the night and the mysteries beyond the circle of firelight of our known world. We have the fear of the other. We have superstition vs rationalism. We have the question “who is the real monster here?” and we have, especially, a threatened man’s fear of women. These are deep, primal themes, revisited over and again since humanity first saw shadows reflected on the cave wall (thank you Mr Plato).
Universal and ancient though the themes might be, Cummings, whose film is premiering at the LFF (the two remaining performances are already sold out), has given his debut a relatively novel setting: 45,000 years into the past, delving into the previously neglected genre of “caveman horror”. The Origin features a small cast wandering a vast, imposing and rather bleak landscape, with dialogue entirely in the fictitious stone age language of “Tola”, developed especially for the film by Swedish linguist Dr Daniel Andersson (thankfully subtitled in English).
We follow a small band of travelers: grumpy tribal elder Odal (Arno Luening), out-of-his-depth chieftain Aden (Chuku Modu), his pregnant partner Ave (Lolo Evans) and two sons Heron (Luna Mwezi) and Geir (Kit Young), and “stray” girl Beyah (Safia Oakley-Green), found wandering along the way. The group are migrating, searching for a new, safer place to settle, and find themselves starving and isolated in a hostile, seemingly uninhabited and unforgiving land (unmistakably shot in the mist-shrouded Highlands of Scotland). To make matters worse, something is prowling the edge of their firelight, prompting the question “what monster could be lurking in the dark?”
For a fairly low-budget film from a first time director, The Origin is remarkably accomplished. Its soundscape is, well, horrible – but in the best possible way. Like Texas Chainsaw Massacre before it, the rising terror comes from unseen snarls and screeches, the howling of the wind and rustling of trees, by turns distant and horribly close. The sound design is augmented by a chilling, minimalist score from Adam Janota Bzowski, whose work on last year’s Saint Maud was equally affecting. Cinematographer Ben Fordesman’s balletic camera work (another Saint Maud alum – the two films share producers) is incredibly effective. His use of POV and focus, plus occasionally swooping the camera upside down, gives the film a continually unsettled feel, balancing beautifully stark landscapes lit by the slate-gray skies alone, and the soft play of firelight on faces once night falls. It’s a genuinely terrifying film, but it looks beautiful.
Most impressive of all is how well paced Cummings, writer Ruth Greenbery and editor Paulo Pandolpho (all making their feature debuts) keep their film. A story with a cast of just six, filmed entirely out of doors with dialogue in a completely unknown language could easily feel ponderous, especially with its weighty themes of monstrosity and humanity. Yet Terrence Malick this isn’t – The Origin is a lean, brutally effective chiller and an extremely impressive debut. Bold, unsettlingly creepy and absolutely worth your time.
