More than sixty years ago, the brilliant Marco Bellocchio made Fists in the Pocket, his deeply disturbing and utterly brilliant satire about a homicidal young man who decides to combine his psychopathic urge to murder with his desire to be wealthy, using his family as targets. It is quite simply one of the greatest films ever made, and a masterpiece of both concept and style – and like many very important works, was subjected to an unnecessary and frankly misguided remake. Conceived by Efthimis Filippou, who has had his name attached to some of the most fascinating films of the past twenty years (and who is most closely associated with his creative partner Yorgos Lanthimos, with whom he wrote some incredible works), the film was handed to another iconoclast in the form of Karim Aïnouz, who seemed to be a peculiar but nevertheless interesting choice to bring this story to life. The film, set in an indeterminate countryside setting somewhere in Catalonia, follows a family of American expatriates who have taken up residence in a remote part of the region, spending their days luxuriating in their generational wealth while pretending to mourn the death of their matriarch, to which they attribute both their personal problems and their tense dynamic. The primary perspective is that of Edward, one of the sons who views his family very differently, deciding that he is no longer going to suppress his urges (which entail both carnal and financial desires), and chooses to gradually manipulate each one of them to secretly do his bidding without realising it, with the intention of gradually eliminating them in order to attain their massive fortune, all for himself. An objectively interesting subject that does skirt around the edges of decency in a way that certainly seems fascinating on the surface, Rosebush Pruning proves to squander nearly all of its potential by being mostly misguided in both the story being told and its overall execution, becoming a needlessly heavy-handed and deeply unsatisfying attempt at satire that is neither as cutting nor as intelligent as it thinks it is, which is never a good start for any film that attempts to tackle some more intimidating subject matter in an unorthodox fashion.

Family is such a common topic that is discussed in art that we tend to need to strain to find anything particularly innovative or new being said about the subject, which goes back to the fact that it is one of the most universal themes, and it is something to which everyone is undeniably familiar, regardless of their personal domestic situation and their unique familial composition. It is from this concept that the idea for Rosebush Pruning emerges, since the process of taking the original film and reworking it significantly (which is part of the many flaws that populate this film) allows for a potentially insightful exploration of the connections between different members of the same family, and how they build various dynamics, particularly for the sake of getting what they desire, which is where this particular story gets most of its underlying content. The premise behind the film is to present a portrait of a dysfunctional family, but rather than the cause of the tension being interpersonal conflicts or differences of opinion, it has to do with the fact that none of them is able to function in any conventional way, leading them to cross boundaries that everyone would consider to be the very definition of taboo. This is where we find Rosebush Pruning becoming somewhat questionable (which some may consider entirely by design) by introducing some enormously controversial themes, eventually pushing them towards the centre, which is where so much of the film starts to derail. Subjects such as domestic violence, familial murder and even incest become central to the narrative, and while these can be suitably interesting when placed in the right context and explored with the appropriate amount of restraint and sensitivity (since the reality is that these people do exist, and are certainly not immune to being the subject of creative dissection), it starts to become a bit concerning when the entire narrative eventually becomes defined by these themes, seemingly without any clear purpose other than to present this family as being composed of some of the most despicable and harrowing individuals imaginable. Not even the family at the heart of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre were painted with such broad strokes, and it ultimately leads to the downfall of this film, as both a social statement and a satire.

There is certainly nothing inherently wrong with an artist attempting to lampoon a particular group, especially when they represent a class of people that are considered a step above everyone else. There’s a tendency to think debauchery and immoral activities are reserved for those of lower social standing, so the idea of presenting a portrait of a family who are ridiculously wealthy and have everything that they could ever want, but who still find themselves eventually deviating from the social mores we are all taught growing up and instead pursuing their own carnal satisfaction, by any means necessary. There is an enormous disconnect between the intentions of this film and its efforts to actually bring its core themes to life, which is where we find Rosebush Pruning really struggling to find its voice, relying too heavily on the novelty of the premise (which is really not that unique – even earlier this year, we saw How to Make a Killing, another example of a psychopathic young man plotting to murder his family to gain their fortune, which was also a remake of a classic and far better film) rather than actually putting in the work to bring these ideas to life. I actually don’t entirely blame Filippou, whose screenplay is solid if not slightly on-the-nose, but rather Aïnouz, whose direction is perhaps the core root of what makes this film feel like such a missed opportunity. I dislike the term “style over substance”, as that is a very one-dimensional way to assess art and makes them seem mutually exclusive – but as we see throughout this film, there is an emphasis on the visual construction more than actually engaging with the core ideas. Unfortunately, certain elements can only truly spring off the page through the proper direction, and this was certainly a case of a director struggling to find the right tone and choosing to focus on the wrong aspects, believing that a stylish, over-the-top approach would be the most logical way to bring forward these core ideas. The results speak for themselves, with the entire film feeling like it is following the same pattern as just about every other derivative dark comedy, and where the satirical jabs eventually fall by the wayside in favour of the more stylish elements that may be appealing to look at, but certainly contribute very little to the overarching satire of the film.

At a glance, we may find ourselves experiencing inflated expectations based on the cast of the film, since the director does assemble quite a fascinating group of actors to interpret these roles. However, it becomes quite clear that, in spite of the potential, they were cast in parts that were severely underwritten, with very little merit beyond the optics of having such a varied ensemble, almost all of whom are slightly miscast or forced into parts that don’t really showcase their skills. The first fatal error was casting Callum Turner as the lead, since Edward is supposed to be a maniacal, psychopathic young man who allows his impulses to drive him to the point of insanity. In order to achieve this, an actor who possessed some kind of screen presence was required, and he certainly struggles to even handle the most obvious of themes, never once coming across as even vaguely sinister or nearly as complex as the character required. Even in a film built around the ensemble, a poor casting decision of the central role can lead to some very difficult situations, and the film doesn’t quite recover from that, especially not when we also find Riley Keough (as arguably the second most prominent character) delivering a performance that is only marginally better, also struggling to find the character. I’d argue this is not a statement on the talents of either actor (both Keough and Turner have succeeded in other parts), but rather the director not knowing how to elevate these characters from the screenplay, making them nothing more than one-dimensional tropes. There are some good performances – Lukas Gage is good as the gullible youngest brother, while Jamie Bell and Elle Fanning are turning in solid performances that may be broad archetypes, but at least have some personality. The best performances emerge from Tracy Letts as the blind patriarch who has chosen to spend his remaining time suspended in a state of perpetual hedonism, and Pamela Anderson, who continues to chase more challenging parts, turning the role of the matriarch who faked her death into perhaps the only truly memorable character in the film. Rosebush Pruning needed a bit more work in terms of character development, and despite their best efforts, the cast don’t quite hit the mark as requested, leading to many overlooked opportunities to draw on each actor’s individual strengths throughout the film.

Rosebush Pruning is a film that commits the one truly unforgivable sin when it comes to satire: it dares to be boring, which is absolutely bizarre considering how it was not only adapting an incredibly compelling work, but it had so much potential. It is helmed by a director who is known for pushing boundaries, written by someone who has proven to be a sharp satirist, and anchored by a tremendous cast (or at least one in which everyone is at least trying to do something), which means that the problems emerge somewhere in the gaps between these solid elements, since something went wrong to turn this potentially brilliant work into a jumble of misguided ideas and missed opportunities. This is a film that wants to be provocative and complex, and we certainly can’t criticise it for the ambition (which is also why I will not call it an inherently bad work), but even with all of its artistic gumption, it just cannot sustain itself as anything more than a mildly amusing novelty, a very well-crafted film that unfortunately lacks any genuine substance. It ultimately just doesn’t know what it wants to be, and as a result exists in the strange limbo between a darkly comedic satire and a tense psychological thriller, struggling to exist within either one for long enough to leave much of an impression, and ultimately falling apart as a result of a clear lack of coherent identity. It’s not a particularly strong film, and no one walks away from Rosebush Pruning having done anything all that interesting, which is a shame considering this could’ve not only been a considerable boost for Aïnouz (who has been steadily proving to be a fascinating filmmaker, especially now that he has begun to venture into English-language filmmaking, which we can imagine puts him in a good position for even bigger projects in the future), but also the opportunity for the cast to showcase their skills in a more unconventional form. It’s a noble failure at the best of times, which is never a good place for a film like Rosebush Pruning to fall, since it loses its momentum and the novelty begins to erode, leading to a film that feels like it should’ve been a bigger achievement, but instead exists as a mildly entertaining but ultimately hollow, forgettable experience.