Imagine if John Waters directed a New French Extremity film, and you would have a pretty good idea of what to expect with Sheitan (Arabic for Satan). These days, Kim Chapiron’s deranged debut escapes virtually all mention in talks about that particular era of French transgressive filmmaking, however, that omission is more due to its scarcity rather than an actual lack of memorability. Certainly no one who has witnessed this cinematic exercise in sustaining unease can say it is bland — after all, the director went out of his way to make the characters as well as the audience uncomfortable. And, without a doubt, show-stealer Vincent Cassel did not hold back as the on-screen conveyer of said disquiet.
Sheitan may not be considered part of the Extremity club, on account of its comedic and seemingly straightforward execution, but its induction wouldn’t be too out of order, either. There is a fair amount of unsettling imagery and subversion happening here that distinguishes this film from more conventional offerings of horror. For starters, Chapiron begins his tale on Christmas Eve, an always-viable target of visual and thematic corruption.
Before meeting the dentally challenged and brutish headliner of Sheitan, we are introduced to his would-be victims: a trio of rebels whose social antics get them thrown out of the curiously named nightclub Styxx. To be more accurate, Olivier Barthélémy’s character Bart takes a broken bottle to the head after the other clubbers tire of his unwanted advances and pissy attitude. In tow are Bart’s mates Thaï (Nico Le Phat Tan), Ladj (Ladj Ly) and Yasmine (Leïla Bekhti), and the attractive stranger they picked up that night, Eve (Roxane Mesquida). Neither expulsion nor physical injury are enough to call off this evening though, and the five end up spending Christmas at Eve’s country house.
The Christmas blueprint becomes more and more apparent once the characters reach their ill-boding destination. As it turns out, this is not just another genre entry merely set around the holiday; quite the opposite, Chapiron has fashioned Sheitan after the story of the Three Wise Men in search of a newborn king. Bart, Thaï and Ladj unknowingly fill the roles of the Biblical Magi, and Eve’s housekeeper, Joseph (Cassel), and his identified but rarely seen pregnant wife Marie are references to Jesus’ mother and earthly father. While a working knowledge of Christianity isn’t necessary here, it is helpful in your digestion of this bizarre film.
In between the characters’ arrival at Eve’s house and the ominous birth in store, Sheitan wields a forceful series of halfway scenes that don’t adhere to the Christmas outline but rather are designed to single out — and disturb — one of the Three Kings’ parallels. Bart, who earlier had no problem with making others, namely women, squirm, is now put on the receiving end; the destruction of his composure is a piecemeal effort. First, Bart endures some incidental spillage as he witnesses Eve enjoy a mouthful of fresh, warm goat milk straight from the source, leading him to announce his general dislike of the awfully spermatoid beverage. It doesn’t help that the off-putting Joseph continues to offer the milk to him, which fuels Bart’s aversion to not only the liquid in question but also his intrusive host.
By now there is a detectable and rich undercurrent to the film’s treatment of Bart. The other male characters aren’t oblivious; Thaï and Ladj have picked up on Joseph’s blatant affinity for the group’s odd-man-out. And Joseph’s leering and social proposals only escalate the more Bart rejects him. That pestering comes to a head at the nearby hot springs where Joseph previously invited Bart for some skinny-dipping. In a zealous and male-driven game of shoulder wars, the solitary Bart is peer-pressured into being Joseph’s “top” before the housekeeper’s wanton niece gets a handful of her opponent’s hair — along with a bit of his scalp. This humiliating, neutering moment is the perfect capper for an already homoerotically charged set-piece, one that cements the film’s subversion of horror’s more routinely targeted gender.
When it seems like Joseph is only using Bart to express his own repressed desires, Sheitan makes the pair’s relationship more lucid as the last act plays out with both snap and ferocity. The story’s Christmas patterning returns once Joseph takes action and the film better resembles horror. Bart and the other guests are subjected to overt terror that ranges from fearful intimidation to sharp violence. The destruction of the human body, a common and vigorously handled theme in the New French Extremity, is not as severe or displayed here, however, Chapiron does visit the concept during the coda. In what looks to be a standard deathdream revelation, the filmmaker recalibrates as well as connects the emphasized Joseph-Bart subplot with all the hanging Biblical allusions.
Sheitan might not make a whole lot of sense without a grasp of its inspiration or an appreciation for its objective, but for a depraved twist on the birth of Christ, along with an outright violation of all that is deemed natural, this film hits the right spots — and it does so with a shit-eating grin on its face.
Sheitan is now streaming on Kanopy.
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.
