by Jason Adams
Modern living breeds its own special brand of anxieties. It's a warm culture for bacteria. Walk around any big city these recent weeks and you'll see -- the face masks and the empty shelves where hand sanitizers once sat. We're internet ghosts, part people part machine, searching for apocalyptic keywords and wiping our screens down to curves where our fingers just fit. We're both exposed and isolated -- personal sized soap bubbles floating down every street; don't get too close lest you pop.
The ways this schism situates itself into our daily living, the way it expresses itself, varies-- personally I start to pluck hairs out of my beard if I stay still for too long. I know only too well the satisfactory sense of build and release, a manic arc unto itself, that such compulsions afford. There is a beginning and an end and then a beginning and an end -- a rollercoaster we control; a narrative of our making, our choosing, in days that feel anything but.
In Swallow, out in theaters and on VOD today, Hunter (Haley Bennett) doesn't feel in control of her life, and so she does something about it...
That this something involves putting increasingly bizarre and harmful objects into her mouth and into her stomach, doesn't necessarily negate her dawning self-actualization. It adds sharp ridges to it, is all. Bennett portrays Hunter as a bit of a Stepford Wife suddenly switched to malfunction. Her behavior makes no sense to anyone around her, which is why it takes hold. Finally, something that's hers alone.
Hunter pointedly remains fairly mysterious to us, those of us sitting in the audience watching her, for the same note-perfect reasons. Bennett and director Carlo Mirabella-Davis are very smart about feeding us some upfront psychological information only to yank it out the other side just when we think we understand her. Bennett's performance is projected out of a flip-sided allergy medication commercial -- she's dancing on the beach as she self-destructs. The worse it gets the more Hunter seems to find herself.
Frankly, it feels like modern living in a nutshell. Google how hot it needs to be for plastic to melt, how many asteroids are headed this way, and just enjoy your day from there.
Related:
Last year's Tribeca Review
The Trailer (with TFE quote!)