Men is a film that is about as subtle as its title suggests – however, if there is someone who knows about the virtue of ambition, it is Alex Garland, who has been one of the most fascinating voices in contemporary horror and science fiction for over two decades in his capacity as either a writer or director, which has seen him take on many projects that give him the opportunity to showcase his audacity and willingness to push boundaries. When it comes to horror, nuance can sometimes be a hindrance, especially when dealing with subject matter that is far too outrageous to ever be taken seriously. In many ways, Men is the quintessential example of a horror film that requires some degree of open-mindedness, and a decent sense of humour, since without these qualities, the viewer will struggle to understand how Garland somehow managed to craft one of the most outrageous and bitterly caustic horror films of the last decade, a deeply disturbing and undeniably absurd work that may be bewildering to the vast majority of viewers, but has a certain quality that provokes and unsettles in ways that only the most intrepid works of horror would dare to even approach. Ultimately, Men is a film with an enormous amount of subtext, and a sense of humour that is polarizing at best. However, where it falls short on sophistication it compensates with a kind of off-the-wall brilliance, a refusal to soften the deranged nature of its story, since there is something much more profound than initially meets the eye, and should we choose to accompany the protagonist on this journey into the countryside, we may be confronted by several terrifying images, which are amongst the most unforgettable in contemporary horror cinema, and one of the reasons why Men is most likely on the way to being a cult classic.

Garland has never been someone who puts too much stock into the idea of grand revelations or major twists – they do exist in his films, but they’re reserved for the concepts that are actually worth the surprise, rather than being one of those horror filmmakers that hide the true meaning of his work beneath layers of allegory that ultimately obscure their message. Without even watching a moment of the film, it’s remarkably easy to figure out what this film is aiming to explore – Men is a simple but evocative title that tells you exactly what Garland was trying to achieve. Perhaps the idea of a male filmmaker telling a story of a woman being terrorized by a village full of sinister men is slightly regressive (since there isn’t any indication that Garland himself was in any position to tell such a story – but then again, such limitations can be restrictive to art, even if it is obvious that more diverse voices should be hired to tell stories relating to their community), but regardless of his background, Garland is a formidable filmmaker whose work is reflective of many deeper issues, which makes his forthright dedication to such a project so enticing. Men doesn’t rely on the element of surprise, but there are certain components that are best left to the viewer to discover, especially since we know exactly what the message behind the film is. It’s not a case of trying to figure out what all this chaos means, but rather the deconstruction of themes surrounding gender and masculinity, that makes it such a peculiar work, and one that feels surprisingly insightful in the more quiet moments that occur between the complete narrative and visual anarchy that surrounds the film and makes it such a distinct and bespoke piece of modern horror.

Garland is the kind of filmmaker that is evidently very inspired by previous works, both narratively and visually. Even when he only occupied the space of a writer on certain films, his screenplays were filled to the brim with homages and references to previous works, many of them seamlessly assimilated into these projects. The influence behind Men is fascinating, especially since it is unlike many horror films we find being made today – instead, it takes the form of a pastiche of folk horrors of the 1970s, with films like The Wicker Man and Images being most prominent. The smalltown horror is one of the most unsettling, since we have always tended to view the concept of the countryside as one defined by tranquillity and leisure, rather than this degree of unhinged terror – and while Garland is certainly not the first to use this assumption to his terrifying advantage, he does call back to many of those works that defined the sub-genre, paying tribute to this sense of malice with this harrowing but wildly entertaining film. There is a sinister sense of foreboding danger lurking beneath the pastoral surroundings, and Men subverts many conventions in its efforts to create a truly unsettling atmosphere. The director blends elements of folk horror with the gothic, using the manor at the heart of the story as the centrepiece for the terror that befalls our protagonist, and it becomes one of the most brilliantly subversive examples of the haunted house genre, albeit where the house itself is the sanctuary, and the terror emerges from the outside as the sinister forces gradually encroach on what appears to be a safe space, which in turn only becomes the stage for this grotesque game of gendered cat-and-mouse the more time we spend exploring these frightening surroundings.

Credit must always be given to Jessie Buckley – even when dealing with the most bewildering subject matter, she is constantly very good. Few young actors have been able to so effortlessly rise above middling subject matter, which is even more impressive considering she has periodically ventured into the realm of horror, which can sometimes be even more unforgiving to its actors. After the dreadful I’m Thinking of Ending Things, expectations for this film were low in terms of Buckley and her interactions with the horror genre, since even when she emerged unscathed from that dense film, it was clear that she was not primed to be used well in such projects, since she’s an actress who thrives the most when she’s allowed to tap into her more internal side. Garland mercifully gives her a much better role, and one that is far more appropriate to her talents, allowing her to command the screen without needing to resort to an uncomfortable degree of hysterics. Even at its most bizarre, the film frames Buckley as a very compelling protagonist, and it never feels like she is going to be swallowed by the chaos that surrounds her – instead, she becomes a part of it, a passive observer of this nightmarish world Garland is constructing. She’s joined mostly by Rory Kinnear, who is given a role that any actor would be hesitant to take – he is essentially playing the titular men, nearly every male character (with the exception of the one played by Paapa Essiedu, which occurs in flashbacks) being portrayed by Kinnear, who somehow manages to transform himself – physically and in terms of persona – into each of these despicable individuals. It’s one of the most terrifying performances of the past few years, and a masterclass in chameleonic acting, with Kinnear creating one of the most unforgettable examples of the kind of versatility that can be borne from such abstract concepts. The decision to restrict Men to essentially a two-hander contributes to the sense of detachment that Garland so effectively draws on to create this atmosphere of complete existential anarchy.

Contemporary horror (which is mostly labelled as “elevated horror”, which is a dreadfully reductive dismissal of the more conventional style that forms the foundation for the genre throughout its history) is far too invested in intelligent and insightful analyses of society and its flaws, which are usually foregrounded in these films. As a result, we have seemingly forgotten the incredible virtue of repulsion, and how the visceral act of being disgusted is not something that should be avoided, but rather utilized within the right contexts. Most of Men is spent in suspense, with very few clear depictions of gore and violence, outside of a few sporadic images that are used to foreshadow what is to come – and as a whole, the film is relatively well-composed, and quite elegant in how it approaches such a bold concept. This is sharply contrasted by the third act, where the film goes so spectacularly off the rails, it is truly a sight to behold. Too many modern horror films seem to think it is a prerequisite that, should they include more abstract ideas, that they need to be justified and given context that situates them to the realm of plausibility – anyone expecting realism from horror is severely underselling the years of off-the-wall absurdity that made horror what it is today. Garland is a smart filmmaker and there is always a method to the madness when it comes to his films, but he also understands the value of just creating a terrifying world in which nothing makes sense, and where we either go along for the ride, or just fall victim to its peculiarities. Not everything needs to make sense, especially when we are dealing with a film that is aiming to get a more visceral response from the viewer, rather than one that is necessary and all that thought-provoking. Men, like many other great horror films, is simply deranged for the sake of trying to stir some kind of reaction, and it succeeds wholeheartedly.

Men is a film that every prospective viewer should approach with caution, since this is not a film that can be described as all that pleasant. In many ways, it is one of the most repulsive horror films we’ve received from a major studio in quite some time, especially since it was made by someone whose command of the genre includes a combination of playing on both the psychological and visceral sides of horror, blurring them together in this unorthodox folk horror that feels far more unsettling when it is working with some of the more unconventional tools that are made available, and which Garland does not hesitate to utilize to bring viewers into this deeply unsettling world which feels both thoroughly entertaining and deeply disturbing. Those who enter into this film expecting a straightforward, logical horror are severely underestimating Garland’s wicked sense of humour and his refusal to abide by conventions, and for those who are even vaguely sensitive, Men can be an ordeal, since it is not a film that seems even vaguely interested in creating a sense of comfort, or offering anything close to a resolution for its many bewildering narrative choices. It is uncomfortable, graphic and undeniably grotesque, but it is also incredibly complex in terms of how it structures itself around two very different kinds of sub-genres, with the collision of folk horror and the gothic stylings being the foundation for a strange but captivating leap into the unknown, which is always a good bet for a horror story that aims to be original – and they certainly don’t get more bespoke than this film.