Lord of Misrule Review: An Ominous Pagan Spell

Alright my movie-loving friends, it’s time to dive into the murky supernatural waters of Lord of Misrule. This intriguing new horror flick comes from director William Brent Bell, known for spooky thrillers like The Boy and Brahms: The Boy II. Reuniting with his Brahms star Ralph Ineson, Bell spins a yarn about a minister trying to rescue her daughter from a pagan cult in a remote British village. Yeah, I know – on paper it sounds like folk horror by numbers. But give it a chance and you might just get sucked into the movie’s dark mysteries.

Co-starring with Ineson is Tuppence Middleton as the desperate mom plunging into serious witchcraft territory. The plot kicks off when Middleton’s daughter goes missing during the town’s pagan harvest festival. Cue the disquieting locals, unnerving rituals, and questions about who’s really pulling the strings in this backwoods burg. I’ll be straight with you – it doesn’t fully escape the familiar trappings of the genre. But damned if Bell doesn’t deliver some surprises and striking visuals along the way. The production design is stellar, capturing the lush yet sinister vibe of the rural setting.

So do I recommend venturing into the dark forests and penetrating the secrets of Lord of Misrule? I’d say yes, with a few caveats. It drags a bit plot-wise here and there. And some of the character choices stretch believability more than I’d like. But if you just go with it, soak up the atmosphere, and let the mystery envelop you, I think you’ll have a freaky good time. Ineson brings the perfect ominous presence. And while Middleton’s increasingly unhinged mom isn’t the most nuanced character, her desperation still resonates.

In the end Lord of Misrule pulled me in more than I expected. It brings just enough freshness to the folk horror formula to keep me invested. And it delivers a Satanic finale that ultimately satisfies. So gather your courage and prepare to confront the sinister secrets of this pagan-worshipping village. Just don’t be shocked if you leave the theater checking over your shoulder for crazed cultists!

Alright folks, let’s break this baby down bit by bit. First up, we gotta set the stage – literally and figuratively.

A Slice of Pagan Life

Lord of Misrule takes us across the pond to a postcard-perfect English village called Burrow. Picturesque place full of rose gardens, cobblestone streets, the whole shebang. But there’s darkness brewing behind the quaint exterior. Our protagonist Rebecca Holland moves here fresh off the seminary train. She’s bursting with optimism as the new town vicar, ready to spread the gospel. Girl’s got no clue what she’s walking into.

See, the townsfolk here have some…let’s call them “alternative spiritual leanings.” Every fall they hold a harvest festival to drive off an evil entity named Gallowgog. Very Wicker Man vibes with the fire dances and animal masks – you get the idea. Anyway, they name Rebecca’s young daughter Grace the “Harvest Angel.” Cue this angelic tyke exhibiting some decidedly non-angelic behavior. I’m talking full-on budding sociopath. Director Bell wastes no time showing Grace threatens animals and implies she has designs on her own parents. Pleasant kid.

Of course once Grace gets crowned Harvest Angel, she inevitably goes missing midst the pagan hijinks. And thus begins Rebecca’s descent into obsession to find her demon-child. Her quest unveils all kinds of nasty secrets about Burrow’s true occult devotion. The townspeople clearly prioritize their freaky annual ritual over basic human decency. And the local cops seem more inclined to stonewall than actually solve the case.

As the creepy clues pile up, Rebecca starts questioning if she’s stumbled into a modern day virgin sacrifice situation. Bell unleashes some solid scares along the way – dark shrouded figures, gruesome slaughterhouses, unnerving tunnels. Rebecca’s sanity slowly corrodes until she confronts the legendary Gallowgog himself for a Satanic showdown. Cue the bonfires!

Sowing Seeds of Sin

Now given the premise, Lord of Misrule touches on some thought-provoking themes about zealotry and blind faith. Rebecca represents steadfast religious conviction – she enters Burrow utterly assured in her spiritual doctrine. But when confronted by an opposing belief system, she devolves into obsession and violence. Contrast that with the pagan townspeople. They cling to superstition and ritual, indifferent to basic morality.

Both sides display fanaticism that overrides ethics or reason. Rather than coexist, they descend into conflict. So is the movie saying all intense spiritual devotion breeds chaos and harm? Are sanity and morality incompatible with extreme conviction over the divine? Complex questions with no easy answers. But in Burrow, when two opposing forces zealously fight for spiritual legitimacy, tragedy is inevitable.

Maybe that’s why the most reasonable character is Rebecca’s useless husband Henry. He retains perspective and balance separated from intense belief. Not exactly a heroic figure, but possibly the lone ethical compass within the town’s religious turbulence. In the end, Lord of Misrule seems to argue blind spiritual conviction easily turns people into monsters. And caught in the midst are innocents like Grace who pay the ultimate price. Heavy stuff for a horror romp about killer pagans!

Light and Darkness – Capturing the Tone

From frame one, cinematographer Simon Rowling soaks Lord of Misrule in ominous atmosphere. We’re talking rich autumnal color palettes, painterly compositions, and exquisite play between light and shadow. Rowling delivers visual poetry, complementing the folk horror tale with stirring images straight out of a gothic fairy tale storybook.

The camera glides through golden forests and over lush green hills, basking Burrow in sunshine and pastoral beauty. But intercut are foreboding interiors blanketed in darkness – the town’s Black Barn, heathen sacrificial sites, subterranean tunnels. Even daytime shots harbor menace and decay within the mise-en-scene. The main street might glow in warm inviting tones, but the cracked walls and boarded up buildings betray Burrow’s superficial charm.

During Rebecca’s nightmarish hunt for Grace, this interplay between light and dark mirrors her fraying psyche. As she descends further into uncertainty and dread, scenes become more dimly lit and visually unsettling. Deep shadows creep through every corner and corridor. Flickering candles and fiery torches illuminate ritual gatherings, their figures dancing like ghoulish specters. Even benign conversations grow tense and ominous through careful framing and illumination.

By the hallucinatory climax, the camera captures Rebecca’s distorted mental state in visceral fashion. Unmotivated transitions, jarring angles, and crimson lighting plunge us into disoriented nightmare logic. The film’s grounded visual beauty gives way to surreal menace and uncertainty as all hope dies for clarification or reason conquering. Just like Rebecca, we’re left adrift in the crimson dark along with madness and terror incarnate. Potent stuff my friends!

Standout Performances

Anchoring the visual splendor is our fierce leading lady Tuppence Middleton. She nails the unraveling vicar role with captivating conviction. Middleton deftly balances vulnerability, determination, and defiance, grounding even the most bonkers story beats in palpable emotion. We feel her escalating obsession and despair as any chance of solutions slips away.

But equally essential is Ralph Ineson’s brooding presence as pagan true-believer Jocelyn. With his imposing frame and vocoder baritone, Ineson dominates every scene he inhabits. Is he grieving father,clueless bumpkin, or sinister orchestrator? Ineson keeps us guessing with an ambiguity that proves far more unsettling than outright villainy. His speeches oscillate between empathy, quiet menace, and thundering righteous fury. Just stellar layered work all around from the British character actor.

The directors make some odd supporting character choices I won’t lie – especially Rebecca’s fate-sealed husband Henry and the eccentric townie bookclub ladies. I guess they fulfill plot necessities but lack depth or intrigue. However, Middleton and Ineson deliver such compelling turns that they practically negate the narrative contrivances surrounding them. When these two clash onscreen, the film achieves riveting dramatic heights through performance power alone. Not too shabby!

Conversations With The Devil

Lord of Misrule sees screenwriter Tom de Ville reunite with his The Quiet Ones director William Brent Bell. And together they focus intensely on atmosphere and mystery. Thankfully the script eschews expositional dialogue dumps, allowing the striking visual language to tell the story. When conversations do happen, they further unwrap the secrets and madness at the story’s core.

We get ominous pagan mythology lessons, interrogation room confrontations, and some outright deranged villain monologues. Ineson perfectly sells the most demented soliloquies as he explains the true terror behind Burrow’s history. And while Middleton’s shrieking breakdowns border on hysterical, they echo Rebecca’s escalating desperation. She tries grasping at any conspiracy theory that might explain the inexplicable nightmare cursing her family.

If I have any dialogue beefs, it’s with Matt Stokoe as Rebecca’s lame duck husband Henry. He’s such an afterthought character that his rare interjections feel jarringly pointless. I guess to showcase Rebecca’s isolation? But their strained “relationship talk” reveals nothing new or interesting. Just reaffirms that Henry occupies narrative obligations rather than emotional resonance.

Other than that though, the script keeps conversation economy tight and impactful. Small town secrets come bubbling up, widows dish quietly ominous advice, police suspicions turn into threats. It’s all cryptic enough to intrigue, layered enough to unnerve, stopping short of verbose exposition overkill. De Ville takes a less is more approach – he seeds the scenario, spawns the mystery, then steps back and lets his freaky pagan baby take on a life of its own.

Behind The Scenes

And director Bell does solid work bringing that Pagan nightmare to cinematic life. You can sense his horror roots taking hold as events grow doom-laden and surreal. The atmosphere thickens, the dread metastasizes, until fantasy and reality blur into disorientation. He ramps up the fear factor just enough without overriding the humanity of Rebecca’s journey.

The Quiet Ones clearly honed Bell’s skills for grounded characters struggling against supernatural oppression. In Lord of Misrule, he wrings every ounce of tension from Rebecca’s investigation and Burrow’s occult secrets. Now granted, it never quite reaches the gonzo heights of his wild Orphan sequel. But it allows both emotion and otherworldly evil to cleanly coexist instead of descending into silliness.

I especially admire how Bell allows the visual language and setting to pull double duty in establishing dread. He doesn’t clutter the frame or bombard us with jump scares (until the finale at least). Brick by brick, revelation by revelation, he constructs Rebecca’s nightmare with patient, sturdy blocks. It may be familiar ground for folk horror. But damn if Bell doesn’t display an artisan’s command of sinister atmosphere and strategic ambiguity. By the end, we’re as desperate as Rebecca for bloody clarity amidst the ominous confusion. Well played, Mr. Bell – well played indeed!

And The Verdict Is…

Whelp friends, we’ve traversed the foggy pagan domain of Lord of Misrule and made it out alive! This fresh folk horror entry definitely delivers on the atmospheric dread and British eccentricity. Director Bell concocts an engaging occult mystery – even if he borrows ample ingredients from the subgenre larder. The run time could use some tightening and a few of the character choices induce eyebrow raising. Nonetheless, the film achieves an eerie, lush nightmare logic that held my interest throughout.

It comes down to stellar world-building and committed performances overcoming occasional narrative glitches. Burrow feels like a real lived-in community – albeit one with deep disturbing secrets. Middleton grounds the terror in palpable emotion as tormented mom Rebecca. And Ineson brings otherworldly power and magnetic ambiguity to his pagan true-believer role. Together they anchor the bonkers third act reveals and ritual mayhem enough to satisfy genre enthusiasts.

Now I can’t promise Lord of Misrule will convert skeptics or radically evolve the folk horror template. Hell, it practically embraces genre cliches at times. But damn it all if I didn’t have a spooky good ride anyway! If you dig lush cinematography, rural occult conspiracies, and don’t demand stark originality, I say give it whirl. Is it destined to become a genre classic? Perhaps not. But I happily sacrificed some sanity and sleep in the name of its sinister escapism. Check it out once it hits shudder or basic cable and behold pagan nightmare fuel at nearly its finest! Just maybe keep the lights on and crucifix close…you know, just in case!

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