Brimstone, written/directed by Martin Koolhoven and starring Dakota Fanning and Guy Pearce is one of a rare breed of films that could be viewed as both a cinematic masterpiece and lurid exploitation, with both arguments being convincing. Coming in at right around 2 ½ hours, Brimstone is a visually and dramatically stunning war of attrition, a film that took my breath away with its beauty while suffocating
me under the crushing weight of its misanthropic cynicism.

It’s equal parts thriller, western, and drama, a story in four chapters, told in reverse chronological order, each with its own unique flavor of misery, but all revolving around the serial physical, emotional, and sexual abuse of Liz, played by Fanning and Emilia Jones, by the mysterious reverend (Guy Pearce), with the rest of the world populated with similarly vile men and victimized women. This all makes for a pretty rough watch, but art isn’t meant to be pleasant, it’s meant to evoke something in those that experience it. If that was the end of it, Brimstone would be universally acclaimed, it’s hard to imagine anyone not being affected by the torrent of misfortune it forces us to endure, but art is rarely that simple. Evoking negative emotions isn’t any great feat, a video featuring a small animal crushed by a large rock would evoke more of a response from me than this film does through the slow turning of its thumbscrews, but most of us wouldn’t call that art. What is it that makes misery compelling?

How you answer that question might be the best indicator of whether Brimstone will work for you. I felt that it largely came from an authentic place, and this, combined with the strength of the performances, tip the scales for me in favor of Brimstone’s social commentary over its cynical emotional string pulling, though there Is certainly enough of both to go around. The film explores the abuses of the patriarchy and the church against women, which are real struggles that were particularly severe during the period it’s set in, though the broad strokes the men are painted in does occasionally make the whole thing feel like a morbid cartoon. There isn’t a lot of ambiguous morality, men here are either heroes or the most wretched of villains, and the villains are running the show. It’s a dismal perspective, but it doesn’t feel contrived.

What ends up selling that reality is the performances, particularly those of Fanning, Pearce, and Jones, who plays young Liz. Liz is a strong, resourceful, woman and her jadedness at the tragedy of her life is tempered with the ambition to make things better. Jones’ performance is similarly brave and unrelenting, always fighting the good fight even though things tend to turn out the same way in the end. The villainous reverend is one of the more contemptible “man of the cloth”-type characters since Frollo, a true sleaze, imbued with an almost godlike authority through the norms of the time.  He’s almost a character you could love to hate, with his flowery speech and striking appearance, but his sociopathic indifference to the suffering around him makes him someone you cringe to see whenever he appears on screen, as is no doubt intended. Kit Harington of Game of Throne fame also makes an appearance in a fairly inconsequential supporting role as one of the few civilized men left in the world.

The soundtrack knows just when to hide or take the spotlight depending on what is the viewer is meant to feel at that time, and the visuals remain captivating while draining your soul with their desolation. The cinematography is loud and painterly, perhaps another argument for Brimstone’s ham-fisted melodrama, but if I’m honest that sort of thing just works for me. It’s visual peacocking, packing in as much rim-lighting and striking composition as possible, but this ends up doing a great of keeping what could have been exhausting quite watchable.

The darkness of Brimstone’s themes isn’t something that most of the people that will be reading this review won’t be able to handle. The presentation here Is far more restrained than something like Martyrs or A Serbian Film, with some of the more questionable content appearing off-screen. There are moments of sheer brilliance, and others that feel like musings from a depressed teenager’s diary. It will without question go down in history as a very divisive film, but it’s unlikely it will be forgotten. If you don’t mind a slow burn period piece, if you liked The Witch, but wish it was an hour longer and had more religious oppression, check this one out.