31 Days of Draughts and Darkness: Volume III
The Babadook (2014)
"If it's in a word, or in a look, you can't get rid of the
Babadook."
Whenever someone tells me they don't like beer, I always reply
that they've not yet found the right one. It's not because I'm a beer snob
(though I am), but rather commentary on variety. Many think all beers taste
the same, but the actual flavor profiles can fall anywhere on the gustatory
spectrum.
Horror can be the same way. And now, whenever someone tells
me they don't like scary movies, I'll recommend The Babadook.
An Australian indie flick from Jennifer Kent, The Babadook is by all appearances a
creature feature. Give the trailer a watch. It's easy to assume things revolve
around the titular beastie, a freaky 'gentleman' bedecked in top hat and coat.
But trailers can be deceiving, as the plot is less about the monster and more
about its effect on our protagonists. A monster need not be present to cause
harm.
Even the knowledge of its existence can do damage.
Though the Babadook has some gnarly claws, these are not its
primary weapon.
That would be grief.
The Plot
It's been seven years since Amelia lost her husband. The car
accident occurred at an especially horrific time: the couple were heading to
the hospital to welcome their first child into the world. While mother and
child survived the crash, both walked away bearing the weight of the trauma.
Even Samuel, not even born at the time of the accident, is visibly shaped by
its aftermath.
Amelia struggles to pay an ever-growing stack of bills with
her meager income at a nursing home. Her financial woes take their toll on her
health, as sleep is becoming harder to come by. Much of the
time, Amelia seems in a daze, existing from moment to moment. Her son does
little to help, well-meaning as he may be.
For while Samuel loves his mum more than anything else in
the world, his obsessions are beginning to get under her skin. Sam isn't just
afraid of the monsters. He's utterly convinced of their existence, obsessively preparing
for the moment they reveal themselves. Like most children, he employs his mom
to check closets and under the bed. But then he steals away to the basement to
improvise cross-bows. You can imagine the issue when Samuel starts bringing
these weapons to school.
Sam's inevitable removal from his first-grade class is of
little surprise, nor is his mother's outward defense of her son. Her internal response, however, is unexpected. While Amelia is fervently protective
of Sam, she also harbors a deep resent for him. Much as she loves him, his
anti-social behavior is beginning to crack her already-worn seems. Though Sam
is far too young to recognize this, he's fully aware something is wrong with
his mother. He simply believes it's the monster's influence. Which, of course,
only makes him worse.
Dysfunctional as things already are, they get only worse
upon the discovery of a certain storybook. Inexplicably shuffled among Sam's
fairytales is The Babadook, a story about as appropriate for kids as
those old Scary Stories to Tell in the
Dark books were when we were growing up. Dark imagery and foreboding in
spades, all surrounding the arrival of the monstrous Mr. Babadook. Let him in,
and he'll never leave, the book warns, trailing off into a series of blank
pages after the message.
Amelia is quick to destroy the book, but it only comes
back. And this time, those missing pages
are filled with images of her and Sam.
The seeds of madness were there to begin with, but now they
begin sprouting.
The Flavor
It's all too easy to take The Babadook as a monster movie. The monster exists, hunts, even
kills throughout, but it's not quite in how you'd expect. Mr. Babadook is a
chilling sight, but to take him literally actually diminishes his ability to
terrify. Sounds confusing, I know, but I'm choosing my language carefully so
not to spoil anything. This is a deeply psychological film where calling
everything supernatural would be ignoring the entire point.
The plot unfolds slowly. Long stretches of screen time are
devoted to not a whole lot actually happening. Much of the story is less about
dramatic moments than it is impending dread. While Amelia and Sam go about
the mundane activities of life, you'll start to see little details grow
stranger. At first, it's nothing too eventful. Dishes pile up. Bills go unpaid.
Mother and son try to find peace by going out to eat. Over time, the atmosphere
grows increasingly dark, as if something nasty is drawing closer. It is the
monster, or something else? Frights need not all be of the 'jump' variety.
Though sprinkled with elements of the
supernatural...maybe...The Babadook
draws is horror more from reality than fantasy. Amelia's damaged psyche, having
never truly grieved the loss of her husband, hovers over her like a curse.
After the death, she's had no moment to stop, breathe, and reflect. It's all
been go, go, go to pay the bills and keep what's left of the family afloat. That's the vulnerability that Mr. Babadook preys on: that very real frailty.
This monster understands the best way to torture its prey isn't to kill it, but
rather make its life worse than death.
Watching Amelia struggle to separate the real demon from the
ones in her mind strikes some very powerful chords, especially with anyone
who's ever suffered from anxiety and/or depression. Here is where this film truly terrifies.
Best Paired With
The Babadook is a
movie to challenge yourself with.
Turning one's brain off will leave them incredibly
disappointed, as all the nuance will be lost. If you're feeling a creature
feature, you've come to the wrong place. You'll find no hapless teenagers or
blood n' guts here. The violence is incredibly minimal, present a moments, but
far more implied than anything else. It's more the threat of violence looming
overhead that makes the film so dark. Sometimes the best way to frighten is to
simply not show anything. Hinting lets the imagination do all the dirty work.
But make no mistake, as gore-free as The Babadook is, it is still a very mature film. Deeply unsettling
takes on mourning and mental health are delivered covertly under the guise of a
literal monster. Thing is, that monster isn't half as frightening as the
symbolism it represents. You'll find yourself less shocked and far more
disturbed, especially if any of the material hits too close to home.
Ironically, if The
Babadook were just another monster movie, it wouldn't be half so
unsettling.
Brew
For
tonight's feature, something dark, yet delicate.
Name:
Allagash Black
Brewery:
Allagash
Where
Brewed: Portland, ME
ABV:
7.5%
Style:
Belgian-style Stout
Color: When held up
to the light, the color tone strikes me almost in the way a porter would. We're
not talking so dark that no-light-shall-permeate. Rather, the brew takes on a
deep ruby tone around the edges of the glass with a dark presence getting
stronger as you make your way towards the center.
Aroma: Rich chocolate is the first to hit your
nostrils. Joining it a moment later is the slightly sweet, yet tangy,
distinctiveness of Belgian yeast. They make for a unique pairing,
but the two aromas go nicely together. At the end, a sharper tone, just
slightly boozy, provides the nose with a little kick. A nod to the brew's
Imperial nature.
Taste: Like a fine Italian pastry, Allagash Black takes the
seemingly-opposite spectrum of bitter and sweet and marries them. Heavy cacao, slightly tart like a fancy dark chocolate bar, sweeps
over your tongue. But the accompanying
sweetness, which appears just a moment later, is distinctively not from the
chocolate. It's got a delicate tang that could only come from Belgian
yeast. The flavor-duo reminds me of a Belgian triple with a shot of espresso. Towards the end of each sip, a tiny bit of hop and the roasted malts provide a bitterness that
brings the sweetness level down, but doesn't erase it entirely from the palate.
Aftertaste: The
bitter and slightly-tart flavors of the roasted malt/chocolate combination stick
to the back of the tongue long after the sweet and hoppy notes are gone.
If you imagine the aftertaste of a strong mocha latte, very light on the milk
and with zero added sweeteners, then you're in the ballpark.
Body: Allagash Black has a creamy-smooth quality to it that
provides a solid degree of mouth coating. The carbonation level is very fine, the
sort of delicate effervescence you'd expect from Belgian yeast. Though I'd
place the brew into the medium-heavy category, it's by no means the
meal-in-a-glass sort of thick you'd expect from something like an Irish Stout.
Perhaps it's the yeast in play, but Allagash Black manages to pull of rich and
creamy with smooth and drinkable.
Pair: Maybe it's because of the pastry analogy I made
earlier, but I'm thinking Allagash Black would go great alongside some dessert.
I'd avoid anything heavy on chocolate, as it'd overwhelm the chocolate aspect
of the brew, but something creamy and a bit salty like ricotta pie or tiramisu
would pair wonderfully.
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