Holiday (2018)

Isabella Eklöf's career has barely begun, and yet she has some impressive credits on her CV already. She co-wrote 2018's Border, and worked as a runner ten years earlier on Tomas Alfredson's astonishing Let the Right One In. Her directorial debut, Holiday, is an absolutely fascinating piece of work, harrowing and unflinching, and marks her out as one of the up-and-coming directors to watch. Holiday follows the troublesome exploits of Sascha (a truly incredible performance from Victoria Carmen Sonne) who is forced into the inner ring of her new gangster boyfriend Michael (a chillingly terrific Lai Yde) but remains on the peripheral suppositionally that she's not party to any of the violence or drug business that is always in earshot. We swiftly understand Sascha's role, and although we follow the story through her, it's Michael who controls her. Early on he slips her a drink that sees her pass out on the bed, and then proceeds to arrange her body in sexualised positions, seemingly considering some appalling act. When the screen fades to black before this (possibly) takes place, we breathe a sigh of relief; only for Eklöf to rebuke that solace by unfurling one of the most horrific scenes since Gaspar Noe's Irreversible (2002). What makes Eklöf such a talent in this regard is that this scene in particular looks and feels utterly real and demonstrates the misogyny and entitlement of Michael (and others like him), who then leans back over her as if she's a possession that can now be discarded; and casually replaces his expensive watch which he removed to assault her, compounding his attitude.

Holiday can't end well, that's fairly evident ten minutes in, but how exactly it does so is up for debate. Its depiction of men is pretty negative but one would be hard pressed to find fault with it, not least because of the actions on screen but also the industries it portrays. Eklöf's next film (which is due to be released this year) can't come quickly enough, even if it's as gruelling as this. 7.9/10