Martyrs (2008)
In an interview with Pascal Laugier, he discusses the phenomenal power film has on the rationale, especially that of the horror genre. It means to do more than just scare, and plutôt, transcend to a new level of melancholy. Yes, Laugier has taken an extreme approach, one that will forever stain his audience’s palettes. However, it remains a paradox which people continue to revisit, even after everything.
Take the worst of the human condition and transform it into art, into beauty.
Art can come in the most convoluted manners, the most sublime ones will always go beyond the perspectives of the ordinary. Where films are concerned, the audience is at the mercy of the director, asking them to shed light from their high minds, no matter the cost. And in the midst of intellectual conversations, Martyrs involuntarily involves itself with the crude crucible that is coined the New French Extremity, a cult of deranged ideas ready to nauseate. This is the back alleyway towards Inside and Raw, and like the latter, Laugier’s 2008 gore-fest shows just why humans seek vindication in cinema.
The film does not seek to answer all of humanity’s questions; it is not philosophical for the sake of being philosophical, and hence, its ending is straightforward. To know that Martyrs means so much more than just torture, means understanding what makes it innate and transgressive. This is obvious, but given the unrelenting sadism and psychopathy, the audience is allowed to be revolted by the filmmakers’ creativity. As always, appreciation for it is not unanimous, everyone with their own interpretation of such a rollercoaster, yet one is certain: Martyrs is extreme, and for good reason.
Even amongst its most demented peers, Martyrs stands out to give a strong definition of torture porn, a label that has seen its gradual rise around the mainstream. The premise is simple. Lock someone up in a room and conduct diabolical punishments, gallons of blood blemishing the four walls, notable examples include the Saw and Hostel series. Make no mistake, there is no intention to be anything other than splatter red everywhere, which makes this particular French sonnet all the more interesting because it tackles the notion of knowledge.
A vital difference between the film and traditional horrors is the way in which the script shifts from conventional horror tropes. The first half is a canonical experience for horror lovers — a harrowing opening sequence featuring a bloodstained girl bolting down a rundown industrial complex, cue the disturbing thoughts showcased in an orphanage. Out of nowhere, an allegedly innocent family is murdered in grisly fashion fifteen years later at the hands of Lucie, the very same girl who escaped, here in the name of equivocal justice. In addition to her fury, Lucie suffers from horrifying hallucinations, inducing remorseless episodes of self-harm. Despite the supernatural occurrences plaguing her, it is hard not to hypothesize that her self-harms actually stem from schizophrenia, instead of some hateful spirit. Anna, her accomplice in breaking into the home, agrees. Lucie’s “spirit” is a psychological manifestation of an extreme guilt harboured for neglecting another girl fifteen years ago. The calculated massacre of her captors is her way of making amends.
The first half of Martyrs is an acute representation of today’s world. Laugier analyzes the belief system vis-à-vis victimhood which reverberates throughout contemporary culture, now bespoken by racial tensions and snobby self-righteousness. Indeed, these are pertinent issues that demand attention, not retribution. People can claim the role of victim so efficiently, whether it be by their own doing or misfortunes, yet even faster to lambast others in need of said attention.
Then, Lucie commits suicide. It would appear that nobody can tolerate such a traumatic event and walk away free afterwards. Anna discovers an elaborate cell downstairs, and as more anomalies transpire, a mysterious black sect led by Mademoiselle (her actual name is never revealed) arrives. Anna is given the “martyr” treatment, periods of methodical and systematic administrations with the aim of transcendence. In short, she is tortured beyond recognition.
“Martyr” in Martyrs refers to the Greek word “μάρτυς”, which roughly translates to “witness”. According to Mademoiselle’s cult, by undergoing indescribable pain which puts them at a fine line between life and death. This would allow them to peep into the foreign realm, in turn allow the smart people to decipher the fundamental truths behind humanity’s existence.
Martyrs survive pain, survive total deprivation. They bear all the sins of the mortal world, they give themselves up, they transcend themselves.
And yet, this responsibility is far too great for innocent young girls to carry out, the monolith of suffering a burden no one should have to carry. Anna is dragged into the same world that Lucie was subject to, forced to understand what true desolation is. After an excruciating series of thrashings, she is kept on the brink of life whilst her psyche has utterly withered away, the erosion of humanity. The anonymous man and woman responsible for her pain are not sadists, since they do not seem to indulge in this either. From here on, the cruor depicted in the first half is not replicated. Unlike the gory films out there, Laugier forces his audiences to imagine, rather than paint the skyline red. Squeamishly gut-wrenching his creativity is, Anna’s tribulations can only be defined as unabated, to push the boundaries on documenting pain as a process of empirical audit. Laugier digresses; his film is discordant, even reaching a cold, high-minded territory.
So really, what separates Martyrs from perhaps The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? What instils this particular gore piece with validity are the historical references of martyrdom, inflicting pain on others for the sake of some spiritual awakening that molests our sense of empathy.
Countless Christians were given capital punishments by the Roman Catholic Church around the 17th century. Their sufferings were regarded as the most devout for “bearing witness” under the worst conditions, the most notable testament to this was Jesus Christ. Humans continue persecuting each other in the name of wisdom, even outside the realms of religion. The Holocaust and Unit 731 are perfect examples showcasing man’s thirst for more. Inhumane pseudo-scientific experiments are enforced amidst the cries of agony, the same efficient and calculated discipline done by Mademoiselle’s cult. All this with the mercenary goal of higher erudition and enlightenment through others’ sufferings.
How many innocents must die at the hands of dictators? How many of them can attribute their deaths to totalitarian authority negotiating progressive social policies? How many more must transcend so that rulers can have enough of these harsh methods? How many animals must be dissected and used for pharmaceutical tests, so that science becomes easier to understand and life becomes more refined?
Full stop. They have achieved it. Anna has become a martyr. Underneath the bunker, her path to transcendency reaches fruition. Laugier gives the indication of that through a mystic portal of sorts and into the celestial skies, this realm feels peaceful, devoid of unnecessary bloodshed. Such is it in vogue to leave everything in ambiguity and a bunch of theories by Laugier as well. Mademoiselle is the first to receive Anna’s words of wisdom, then subsequently becomes the last. She commits suicide without much of a farewell to the rest of her peers, offering only two words:
Keep doubting.
Whatever Anna whispered in Mademoiselle’s ear must have been depressing. Depressing enough at least. Some postulate that Anna saw absolutely nothing, which would just be a black screen. Some postulate that Anna foretold something terrible. It is all up to interpretation; but for the most part, something divine or remote, far from the reaches of mere mortals.
Try as hard as we might, humans will never be able to build wings to soar to the heavens, and certainly not gain insight by martyrdom. In the obstinate pursuit of knowledge, we fail to realize just how minute we are to gauge something so vast. Imagine knowing that the world would end tomorrow, no matter what. Would we go into panic mode? We are earthly reincarnations of God, so the Bible says. And what would we do with such an array of knowledge? Is it our responsibility to make scripture out of philosophy? Only time will tell, and for now, unless we choose infinity over the finite, mankind will undoubtedly have to continue guessing. Or in Mademoiselle’s words, keep doubting.
