When I mentioned to a few people about watching Sébastien Marnier’s The Origin of Evil, the common reaction was something like, “That sounds scary!” Even though I had seen the trailer with my own eyes and knew the logistical genre of the film, I couldn’t help but feel that there was a chance I was wrong. I’m betting the confusion is a collective of the usual seasonal association, vaguely remembering that there’s a Ouija movie with the same name, and that the other ominously-titled It Lives Inside, a certified scary movie, was released in theaters around the same time. And after seeing it, I can confirm that watching The Origin of Evil with fearful trepidation wouldn’t be overdoing it.
In a way, grandma-mistaking it as The Origin of Evil Lives Inside wouldn’t be far off from the premise. The evil, in this case, resides in the large estate of the wealthy Dumontet family, led by patriarch Serge (Jacques Walker). Located on an island reachable by ferry, the place seems even more alien to Stéphane (Laure Calamy), Serge’s estranged daughter. Sometime after her mother’s passing, Stéphane contacts Serge to connect over lost years. Immediately, the challenges between their relationship present themselves when she steps foot into the house. There is Serge’s family, which includes the presumptive successor-daughter George (Doria Tillier), the erratic, fun-loving wife Louise (Dominique Blanc), and the silently observing teenager Jeanne (Céleste Brunnquell). The family maid Agnès (Véronique Ruggia) circles around these creatures of luxury with instinctive fulfillment to their whims and requests, but nevertheless keeping a watchful eye on Stéphane’s curated warm reactions towards Serge.
Stéphane’s distance from the Dumontets is evident from the family’s “fuck you money” stature and fashion, though sometimes that gap is not weaponized intentionally. During a dinner conversation in which Stéphane reveals that she works at a fish factory, the family automatically assumes that she owns the company. But in the fight-or-flight defense in watching a horror movie, it’s difficult to not look for the crack in this image. The film will sometimes give away that responsibility when it splits the screen into two or three sections, indicating the “sides” of a conversation. For instance, it occurs during dinner (Stéphane at the center and the family members at the sides of the screen asking her questions that seem pointed), and again when Stéphane and Serge are sitting side-by-side on one couch and the women of the family are facing them on the opposite couch. Serge then slumps off the couch, writhing in pain. Stéphane naturally kneels to his aid, terrified and dumbfounded at the family’s calm, unmoved stares.
The film rapidly unravels once the first plot twist comes swinging out of the gate that sharing a few spoilers couldn’t cover the amount of gasps that I had throughout the film. In hindsight, I’m not sure if they are as profoundly surprising as I felt on the first watch of Parasite, but the film’s pacing never permits the audience to settle for just one secret reveal. Stéphane had arrived to the estate in the midst of the family’s vicious legal battle over Serge’s declining health and capability in running his business. Serge confides in Stéphane about his family’s ungrateful attack on his wellbeing through the court case. But in other instances, his attitude morphs in a violent rage that we start to wonder if the Dumontet women’s cold shoulders are of disgust or out of fear. The effects of the twists feel compounded because there are little factors to think about — what did Stéphane mean by that? how is George going to react? — within this hostile bloodline that, despite the makings of a nefarious ending afoot — it’s still fun to try to guess how the heck this will play out.
The experience in watching The Origin of Evil is akin to that horror-like uneasiness, where you are certain that something colossally bad will finally present itself and ruin everyone’s lives. Even the interior of this mansion is notably off-putting. In the high-art jungle apartment that was Willem Dafoe’s prison in Inside, you can tell that this was owned by a person whose wealth presentation was thought out. Dumontet’s mansion is understatedly bizarre; the foyer is physically bustling with packed cardboard boxes while houseplants invade the square footage of the kitchen and living room. In a smaller floor plan, this would be a reality-show nightmare. Here, our guesses amount to open-ended questions. Sometimes the messiness implies that living under Serge’s thumb means that one foot always has to be out the door. Maybe the piles of unopened stuff has to do with Louise’s exorbitant spending. But as we learn about the family, sometimes the background props, unassuming but towering, underlines something more intense: hidden spots from wrath uncalled for, many attempts to make a home out of a box, or apathy towards each other to make it a livable place.
As such, the title provokes the question: where does evil come from? How does evil manifest? Nature or nurture? We will see that even Stéphane’s character isn’t free from the role of the innocent interloper; her character harbors a secret plan that will make a Dumontent woman out of her.
The Origin of Evil (L’Origine du mal)
2022
dir. Sébastien Marnier
123 min.
Now available digitally and on demand
