Fresh – first-look review | Little White Lies

Festivals

Fresh – first-look review

22 Jan 2022

Words by Hannah Strong

Two people, a man and a woman, sitting at a wooden table in a dimly lit room, engaged in conversation. Warm lighting from candles and a chandelier creates a cosy, intimate atmosphere.
Two people, a man and a woman, sitting at a wooden table in a dimly lit room, engaged in conversation. Warm lighting from candles and a chandelier creates a cosy, intimate atmosphere.
It’s a clas­sic tale of boy eats girl in Mimi Cave’s direc­to­r­i­al debut, but the flavour pro­file is off.

It’s a tale as old as time: girl meets boy, girl dates boy, girl dis­cov­ers boy is secret­ly butcher­ing women and sell­ing their flesh to an elite group of can­ni­bals, girl has doubts about boy’s char­ac­ter. First-time direc­tor Mimi Cave makes the tran­si­tion from music videos to fea­tures with this gory take on mod­ern dat­ing, star­ring Nor­mal Peo­ple break­out Daisy Edgar-Jones as Noa, an unlucky-in-love twen­tysome­thing whose super­mar­ket meet-cute with hand­some stranger Steve (Sebas­t­ian Stan) cul­mi­nates in her kidnapping.

Steve calm­ly explains to Noa that he’s a butch­er, of sorts, and that he intends to slow­ly carve parts of her body off and ship them to his well-paay­ing clien­tele. Noa seems to get over this quite quick­ly, because hey – he might be a can­ni­bal, but Steve’s got his own home and he’s cute, which are two qual­i­ties hard to ignore in the mil­len­ni­al hellscape that is con­tem­po­rary romance. Steve takes a shine to Noa too, with a fel­low pris­on­er point­ing out to her that none of the oth­er vic­tims slept with Steve pri­or to their capture.

This is pre­sent­ed is mean­ing Noa is spe­cial in some way, but as we nev­er real­ly learn much about her it’s hard to say why exact­ly Steve becomes so fix­at­ed on his lat­est cash cow. Not only that, it’s dif­fi­cult to under­stand why Noa’s best friend Mol­lie (Jojo T. Gibbs) cares so much about her, giv­en that Noa shows pre­cious lit­tle in inter­est in any­one but herself.

A slick, beau­ti­ful­ly-pro­duced film, Fresh ben­e­fits from some excel­lent inte­ri­ors (say what you want about psy­chopaths, they can dec­o­rate the hell out of a lair) but its styl­is­tic flour­ish­es can’t make up for lack­lus­tre char­ac­ter­i­sa­tion. Cer­tain obser­va­tions about the pit­falls of mod­ern dat­ing feel out­dat­ed, which might be the result of lean­ing on a cul­ture that changes so rapid­ly, but most­ly the stakes feel strange­ly low for a film about cor­po­rate cannibalism.

By the time the film reach­es its inevitable bloody cli­max, there’s pre­cious lit­tle rea­son to root for any­one involved. Cave cer­tain­ly has an eye for aes­thet­ics, but Fresh attempts to find a mid­dle ground between rela­tion­ship satire and gross-out hor­ror, becom­ing a bloody dis­ap­point­ment in the process.

You might like