Welsh-language horror Gwledd (The Feast) doesn’t just find the grotesque in everyday items and actions – it absolutely revels in it. Whether it’s a face mask peeling slowly of a woman’s face or a young man squeezing into a tight, spandex cycling outfit, the underlying sensory horror eked out of the conventional is striking. Whilst The Feast sometimes feels like a montage of gross-out moments as opposed to a fully formed feature film, its terrific body horror, spectacular sound design and mesmerising atmosphere will be enough to please any horror fan.
Set in an affluent, high-end house in the middle of the Welsh countryside, The Feast’s juxtaposition of modernisation and rurality is immediately clear, bolstered further by the wealthy family residing in the house who are intent on continuing their mining efforts in the surrounding area. A mysterious waitress called Cadi, who arrives to help set up for a dinner party, adds an ominous presence to proceedings, with Annes Elwy (The Toll) imbuing the screen with a terrifying ambiguity every time she enters, often a silent, vaguely-human presence but always totally sinister. As Cadi’s true intentions become clearer and the family’s values are put under scrutiny, Roger Williams’ screenplay ramps up the terror and director Lee Haven Jones injects the screen with plenty of terrific gore. There is body horror in The Feast that would make David Cronenberg (The Fly, Crash) and Julia Ducournau (Raw, Titane) beam with demented glee.
Themes of monetisation, greed, corruption and most notably environmental exploitation in The Feast are effective but are never elevated onto a higher level, often remaining at a predictable, basic status. The folklore background to the film is also frustratingly never given enough depth; there is a beautiful fable within The Feast about man’s consistent abuse of nature, but it generally remains hidden, buried beneath the awesome horror on show. Too often The Feast seems more occupied with its shock value – admittedly very effective shock value – than building on its strong thematic foundations.
Despite these shortcomings, The Feast remains an intriguing and atmospheric watch.. The amplified sound design by Dom Corbisiero (The Toll) gives it a truly cinematic, sensory feeling that wouldn’t be out of place in a Peter Strickland film. Kevin Jones’ superbly imaginative editing adds to an ever-increasing sense of dread and violence, whether it’s a brisk cut from a man falling down to an axe cutting wood or a foot injury to a knife slicing open a parcel. Elwy’s memorable performance is equalled by Nia Roberts (Under Milk Wood) and Julian Lewis Jones (Invictus) as parents Glenda and Gwyn respectively, the latter a despicable representation of monetary greed and the latter a more complex figure of someone who has lost sight of their rural traditions in the face of modernisation. Whilst it never coalesces into something wholly effective, The Feast is a near-miss in this aspect as opposed to a total misfire; it won’t completely satisfy your appetite, but it’ll leave you full enough until a main course arrives.
DIRECTOR: Lee Haven Jones
STARS: Annes Elwy, Nia Roberts, Julian Lewis Jones, Steffan Cennydd, Sion Alun Davies
RUNTIME: 93 minutes
COUNTRY: Wales
Film Rating: 
