To Kill the Beast

The script for To Kill the Beast is probably like, seven pages long. More than being an involved story, To Kill the Beast is a celebration of what can be accomplished with the moving image. It’s all vibes all the time.

To Kill the Beast follows Emilia’s search for her lost brother. Emilia’s search takes her to a town on the border of Argentina and Brazil. Here, she finds work and housing at her aunt’s small hostel. Though the town is threatening, especially on the borders where the jungle begins. Locals are cagey about Emilia’s lost brother and paranoia runs rampant surrounding the possibility of a beast taking the form of local animals and killing people in the area. Additionally, Emilia is working through her own sexual awakening, helped along by the presence of fellow hostel worker, Julieth.

To Kill the Beast is a great-looking movie. Each scene is brilliantly set and executed. The cinematography makes for a moody, atmospheric experience. The film really draws you into this world it creates and keeps you there. Many of the film’s strongest, most engaging moments are in its silences; when the visuals alone not only tell a story but inexorably draw you in. I’ve got attention span issues. Languid, visually-focused movies with minimal dialogue don’t always vibe with me. But I could not look away from To Kill the Beast. This film caught me early and kept me subsumed in its world to the last minute.

In addition to the visuals, first time director Agustina San Martín has perfect control over the pacing of To Kill the Beast. This is a short film, clocking in at about an hour and twenty minutes. Yet within this brief runtime, San Martín never feels rushed. Every scene takes exactly as long as it needs to. San Martín is in complete control of unfolding this story. The film manages to hit a sweet spot of neither feeling rushed nor as if things take too long. This is a tough line to walk and San Martín makes her control over the film’s pacing feel effortless.

The film’s queerness ever-present though rarely a visual focus. Emilia’s feelings about women are depicted through her point of view gaze as it lingers on women. Emilia is a passive observer of a protagonist so she rarely acts on her feelings. She is generally watching from a distance with no hope that she might act on her desires. Even once the seductive and clearly interested Julieth enters the picture, their relationship consists largely of shared glances and missed opportunities. The only overtly physical queer moment is a scene where she and Julieth almost but never actually completely kiss. Emilia still holds herself back from literally grabbing the opportunity for lady kissing right in front of her.

My one critique of the film is the characterization or lack thereof of Julieth. While nobody gets an abundance of dialogue in the film, Julieth has almost none at all. She is primarily a physical presence. Julieth is a vibrant, seductive, two-dimensional possible love interest. With neither words nor a focus on her perspective, she is certainly more an object than a subject. Julieth is also black. I lack knowledge about racial relations in Argentina/Brazil. But the existence of a two-dimensional, seductive, objectified black woman is something unfortunately familiar to me.

I’m not entirely sure what To Kill the Beast was “about” but I enjoyed spending time in this languid, beautiful world. I’m not even upset that the beast in question was metaphoric. Agustina San Martín’s careful control over the film’s story, pacing and particularly, its tone feels impressively effortless. Additional shout out to Ana Brun who plays Emilia’s aunt. To date, Brun has appeared in a total of two movies. Both are visual masterclasses of WLW films. Brun’s got amazing taste in projects so far and I sure hope that continues.

Overall rating: 6.9/10

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