How do you correct bad behaviour? Every parent has a different approach to the art of discipline, some preferring a more gentle, language-based approach, others believing that the only way to curb misbehaviour is through physical means. In both accounts, it is a very contentious topic, despite being very personal and tailored to each individual family. However, experts have determined that there are more effective ways that others, which are less about solely punishing but also educating, doing so through reinforcing key ideas about what is socially acceptable. We find a fascinating deconstruction of this idea coming in the form of Heel (otherwise known as Good Boy, not to be confused with the dog-based horror film from last year), the English-language debut of Jan Komasa, who has made quite a name for himself in his native Poland as the director of socially charged character studies that peer behind the surface of the human condition, revealing deeper ideas surrounding society and how it functions. In this film, we are introduced to Tommy, who relishes partying hard, since he knows he is always able to get away without facing the consequences. However, he soon finds that this is not the case when he wakes up in a remote home somewhere in the countryside, having been kidnapped by Chris, a mild-mannered everyman who came across Tommy and decided that it was up to him to help remedy his ways, which he does alongside his wife Kathryn (who is grieving the loss of their oldest child) and son Jonathan, whose happy-go-lucky demeanour is a stark difference from the foul-mouthed, violent Tommy, who becomes something between a prisoner and a family project, with his only sympathetic companion being Rina, an immigrant who has been strong-armed into working as the family’s housekeeper due to her legal troubles, which Chris uses as a means to keep her entirely complacent. A blisteringly funny dark comedy that hints at something more profound lurking beneath the surface, Heel is quite an achievement, a well-crafted satire that knows exactly how to adjust its tempo to match its core ideas, which makes for a brilliantly engaging journey into the darker side of humanity.

Some are born into the right family; others are introduced into it through either adoption or a more informal construction of a “chosen” clan. Heel is a film that offers a very different (and frankly unique) option, which is that some people are supposedly forced into families through coercion and sheer brute strength, which is certainly far from realistic, but nonetheless still a very interesting approach that forms the foundation for this film. The film functions as a primarily as a satire on nuclear families – it’s not surprising that by the end of the film, we have a dynamic that resembles the ideal image of what a family should be: a loving father, a doting mother and three dutiful children who do whatever is needed to gain their parents’ approval. Naturally, this comes with many unexpected twists and turns, but getting to that point takes us on quite a journey, one that is very difficult to predict, which is part of the fun. The screenplay (written by Bartek Bartosik and Naqqash Khalid, the former originally writing it in Polish, with the intention of producing it locally, and the latter being brought on to adapt it into English) is exceptionally original, and playfully subverts so many common ideas, intricately weaving a complex narrative that moves through this story with the kind of provocative gaze that we don’t often encounter in even the sharpest of satires. Part of the appeal of this film comes from how it carefully unravels into something more profound, while never losing sight of its core intentions, which are carefully plotted details that reflect the film’s intentions to dig deep into the heart of family dynamics, determining whether the idea of “tough love” and necessary roughness are valid, or instead a sign of something much more toxic simmering beneath the surface. The film ultimately doesn’t provide a clear answer in either direction, which is all part of what makes Heel so incredibly effective, especially in how it slowly unravels into an unnerving, complex character study that holds the audience hostage as it gradually reveals new layers of this already very complex story.

It should be noted that at no point does Heel portray itself as some complex, intense examination of parenting in terms of making sense of some of the more abstract ideas that populate this film. There’s a certain amount of disbelief that needs to be suspended in order to fully enjoy this film, but considering it is superbly well-directed, there is no concern when it comes to actually engaging with the material. The foundation of the story is set in the tone, with Komasa being very much aware that striking the right balance between genres was vitally important, or else he’d run the risk of creating something that is tonally misguided, and therefore not able to communicate its core ideas all that well. Thankfully, the film is a marvel in terms of balancing all these elements – it starts as a very tense psychological thriller that can often be quite unsettling (if not outright terrifying), while gradually becoming more challenging – and in between these bold tonal swings, there is an encroaching sense of dark humour that consumes almost the entire film, making it a far more nuanced examination of the psychological state of these characters. At its core, Heel is a film about two people engaged in a cat-and-mouse game, trying to get dominance over the other through outsmarting them, not aware that they’re both one step ahead of each of the other’s actions. This is both an inherently funny premise and a very complex one, especially when we look at it through the lens of the story being told. There are many points where it could’ve been unnecessarily crude, and even more than lent themselves to overt sentimentality (especially when the intentions of the kidnappers become clear, where the film veers towards exploring the subject of grief in a genuinely moving way), but it never aims for the obvious, always choosing to be challenging and interesting, which makes a monumental difference in terms of establishing our enjoyment of the material.

A film like Heel can only be effective if it has actors who knew precisely how to balance the different tonal and conceptual elements of this material. Komasa is extremely lucky that he managed to assemble the cast he did, since everyone is absolutely impeccable. Anson Boon plays Tommy, a young man who has taken the folly of youth too far, choosing to live as if he will not see another day (and based on the drugs and violence that guide his life, this is a genuine risk), who is taken in – albeit by force – by a couple who genuinely believe that they can set him on the right path. This character is not an easy one, since it required an actor who could handle some of the more difficult material while never being the main attraction of the story. It’s a primarily reactive character who has to convincingly play someone enduring a major ordeal, which Boon does very well, even if it can sometimes feel like a slightly thankless role at times, at least from the surface. The primary reason to watch Heel – and indeed the aspect that has been most highlighted – is the performance delivered by Stephen Graham, who has long been one of the most dynamic and interesting actors of his generation, but has only recently started to earn the respect he deserves. The role of Chris is a perfect contrast to his impeccable work on Adolescence, another project in which he plays a paternal figure to a disturbed young man who simply wants to set him on the right path. Of course, in this film it’s taken a few steps further, since Chris is not the biological father of the main character, but instead forces himself into that position, believing that it is the only way to remedy the situation and bring the young man to his senses. It’s a performance that oscillates between terrifying and earnest, and at no point does Graham give anything less than his absolute best, making this some of his best work to date. Andrea Riseborough,  Kit Rakusen and Monika Frajczyk round out the cast, and while they’re also very good, Heel belongs squarely to Graham and Boon, whose psychological tug-of-war acts as the foundation for the entire film.

Heel is a film in which one needs to be prepared to leave all their preconceived notions of what this kind of story can be at the door, since the only way to truly enjoy this film is simply to embrace the madness that simmers beneath the surface, looking at it as a loosely-structured social satire that navigates the very narrow tonal boundaries that divide it from unhinged horror. It’s deceptively fun, and always veers towards the entertaining – there is certainly a version of this film that could’ve been made that leans more heavily towards the violence and terror, but this would have cost it that distinct spark of mischief that ultimately ties everything together, making it a far more nuanced piece, and one that cannot be predicted, regardless of how much we try – in fact, there are certain moments where we wholeheartedly believe that this film is going in one direction (such as the idea of Chris and Kathryn secretly being Tommy’s actual parents), only to have the rug pulled out from under us as it spins wildly in the complete opposite direction, which is one of the most interesting aspects of this film. The core of Heel is to be a blend of sharp, scathing social satire and tense, atmospheric psychological terror, both of which work in tandem, complementing one another in ways that are sometimes difficult to recognise until we’re right in the middle of seeing it all transpire. The film is a triumph – bold and unsettling, but never anything short of wholeheartedly entertaining. Heel knows how to draw the audience’s attention, pulling us into the world of this story in a way that is creative, daring and undeniably captivating, proving that a simple concept can go a long way when it is produced properly and with the right amount of attention to detail.