Red Rooms (2024)

Canadian director Pascale Plante brings a fresh feel to the serial killer genre in this tight, well written thriller anchored by an excellent performance by Juliette Gariépy. She plays Kelly- Anne, a fashion model who is seemingly consumed by an ongoing trial of a serial killer Ludovic Chevalier (Maxwell McCabe-Locas). He's been accused of kidnapping and torturing three teenage girls in a 'red room'- an online location where snuff-porn is live-streamed to those who pay cryptocurrency for the 'privilege'.

Why Kelly-Anne is so taken by this court case remains unclear for much of the film, and this is one of Red Rooms' great strengths. She meets Clémentine (Laurie Babin), who is essentially a serial killer groupie, only too happy to vociferously voice her opinions on Chevalier's innocence to reporters waiting outside the court room. The two strike up an odd friendship; Kelly-Anne is awkward even when she's on her own, which appears to be most of the time. She lives alone, almost constantly on her very high-powered computer system complete with high security; but until the very final knockings of the film, her motives are unclear and often murky.

Clémentine clearly doesn't have much of a social life; she clings to Kelly-Anne as soon as she lowers her guard and invites Clémentine to stay at her bachelorette pad, a move that's unexpected and only makes us question Kelly-Anne's intentions further. Both of them have to get up at ungodly hours to wait outside Montreal's Palais de justice to ensure a seat at the trial; Clémentine's reasons for being there are obvious, Kelly-Anne's become more and more intriguing as Red Rooms plays out.

The opening of the film is a stunning one shot take moving throughout the court-room itself as we're introduced to the key players of the drama, including members of the victim's families. The sense of tension and horror as we slowly learn the victim's fates is palpable, and the way in which Kelly-Anne's machinations are slowly revealed means that Red Rooms maintains its interest almost for its duration.

The eventual revelations are in the end a bit too simplistic, and something more sinister would have been welcomed, especially considering Kelly-Anne's extra covert lifestyle. But Red Rooms is still a very impressive piece of work, constantly engaging, making you constantly question where it's going and why it's doing so. The way Plante unveils the story is original, and if you've missed it this year, it's worth getting BFI Player solely to watch it. 8.2/10