Horror is in a fascinating place, with the genre often co-opted to tell thematically rich stories that are as much treaties on a certain viewpoint as they are about the thrills and chills, the blood and guts. Lee Haven Jones’ The Feast firmly finds itself in this category, a fascinating folk horror that doesn’t quite live up to the sum of its parts.
We follow Cadi into the world of the ultra-elite, as she is tasked with catering a dinner party for Gwynn, a politician, and Glenda. All with the intention of the pair convincing a family friend to allow drilling on her farmland. Immediately you can feel the central conflict being one around our relationship with the around us, heightened by an effective sound design that bring much discomfort to proceedings.
Much of The Feast is a slow burn build of tension, delicately laying the pieces of the narrative. There are some terrific performances here with Annes Elwy acting as an effective conduit for the audience as Cadi, whilst Julian Lewis Jones and Nia Roberts are both compelling as the rather repugnant couple at the centre of the party. The script rewards some characters more then others, with a handful of peripheral figures feeling lost in proceedings.
The weakness here lies, perhaps, in the film’s finale. All these clashing themes and ideas have to lead somewhere and, sadly, where we go is rather predictable and also rushed (a shame given the quality of the special effects, when adopted, in this portion of the film). As a horror fan, it can be frustrating when the creatives feel in conflict with the genre they are part of. Sometimes you wonder why a straight drama hasn’t been adopted to tell their story. And yet, besides a weaker last act, The Feast is a compelling watch, deserving of praise for a strong ensemble and being a rarity of a horror film filmed in Welsh.
We follow Cadi into the world of the ultra-elite, as she is tasked with catering a dinner party for Gwynn, a politician, and Glenda. All with the intention of the pair convincing a family friend to allow drilling on her farmland. Immediately you can feel the central conflict being one around our relationship with the around us, heightened by an effective sound design that bring much discomfort to proceedings.
Much of The Feast is a slow burn build of tension, delicately laying the pieces of the narrative. There are some terrific performances here with Annes Elwy acting as an effective conduit for the audience as Cadi, whilst Julian Lewis Jones and Nia Roberts are both compelling as the rather repugnant couple at the centre of the party. The script rewards some characters more then others, with a handful of peripheral figures feeling lost in proceedings.
The weakness here lies, perhaps, in the film’s finale. All these clashing themes and ideas have to lead somewhere and, sadly, where we go is rather predictable and also rushed (a shame given the quality of the special effects, when adopted, in this portion of the film). As a horror fan, it can be frustrating when the creatives feel in conflict with the genre they are part of. Sometimes you wonder why a straight drama hasn’t been adopted to tell their story. And yet, besides a weaker last act, The Feast is a compelling watch, deserving of praise for a strong ensemble and being a rarity of a horror film filmed in Welsh.