Two films with similar episodic structure, both carrying 18-certificates, and both opening in town on the same weekend. “Dying” (Port au Prince), showing now at the Montrose Playhouse, in German with English subtitles, is really a five-episode miniseries; the kind which completely hooks us in the first few minutes so that we find ourselves helplessly watching all five in one sitting. The story arc is so well-defined that it mirrors countless other such endeavours precisely. The film has received something of a reputation for the graphic portrayal of a tough subject (suicide), for which it was awarded its 18-certificate by the BBFC, and for being extremely long. However it is nowhere near as harrowing as “Adolescence” (Netflix) and the challenging material can be avoided altogether by not “playing” the last episode (the closing forty minutes). Back to the start, where we meet two elderly people. The fact that they are characterised are parents (rather than as a couple) is critical to the development of the story because, downstream, they are gradually written out. Gerd (father) has very severe Parkinson’s and in the opening scene we find him being brought home by his neighbour after appearing at her door unkempt and undignified, wearing just an open blue shirt and no trousers or underwear. But his wife (Lissy) is also terminally ill with gynaecological cancer; as she puts it, “we aren’t doing very well.” Eventually their children (Tom, an orchestral conductor, and Ellen, a dental nurse) take over the attention of the script writers and the camera. We become more and more captivated by their troubled and unconventional relationships with their parents and partners. There is no question that “Dying” is a strikingly capable, captivating and clever piece of filmmaking. I did not look at the clock once. Each episode has its own title and this provides systematic structure. What especially impresses is the ambiguous nature of our feelings about the characters, and how this changes as the story evolves. My feelings about Tom (played by Lars Eidinger, sporting an off-centre hat with the logo “Don’t Panic,” and characteristically telling people, “I really have to go”) flipped a few times, for instance. Does he struggle with stable relationships? Is he grieving? Suffering from untreated childhood trauma? Over-detached to the point of sociopathy? As for the filmmaking itself, the consistency of delivery of set-piece scenes is the standout achievement. Take a pitiful scene in the middle with Tom and his mother at the dining-room table. Their bluntly honest conversation coils tighter and tighter as they hurt each other through their words. But the dialog is left to speak because the camera simply cuts from a fixed shot of Tom’s face to an equally fixed one of his mother’s, in the style of a live interview on television news. Eventually the long scene snaps: finally, a wide-angle shot of the two of them together at the table. And it is the only point at which Tom experiences a (very mildly) violent impulse. Straight afterwards, switching to a different episode, the filmmakers keep up the momentum with a scene involving Ellen waking up in a strange bed and calling downstairs to the hotel receptionist to ask which country she is in. A later scene involving both siblings in a concert hall is one of the best single scenes I have seen all year. “Weapons” (New Line Cinema), is also showing now at the Playhouse. It is altogether simpler: a completely standard horror film which develops from a psychological-thriller about a group of children from the class of one specific teacher at their school who go missing from their homes at the same time one night. The catch is that one of the children doesn’t disappear. The gore (including copious quantities of black-tar vomit) appears late-on, after a fabulous character called Gladys, played by Amy Madigan (her face made up like that of the “Joker,” with an orange wig), is introduced (“I can make [your parents] eat each other if I want to”). Two actors make the film. The head teacher, played by Benedict Wong, is just so reasonable. When the parents want to take matters into their own hands (in the style of a vile, collectively-drunk lynch mob) he somehow manages them diplomatically. And when he meets Gladys, his face is a contortion of emotions: how to be polite but firm without showing her that he is scared to death that she is bad news? Austin Abrams plays James, an intravenous drug user, with such lightness that we want to protect him and desperately want him to get well. His mannerisms, withdrawal shakes, and flitting eyes are matched by the wonderful job done by his makeup and costume designers to make him utterly authentic. Just look at the all the details: cut lip; hollow, haunted black eyes; malnourished body; scruffy, never-washed hair; filthy, uncut fingernails. It’s a very, very special performance. Strangely enough both films suffer from the same flaws. Overwhelmingly white casts just demonstrate lack of imagination. Perhaps films like “Weapons” don’t work unless the suburban houses portrayed have at least fifteen rooms in them, plus perfect lawns, and all the rest. The suspicious house is filled floor-to-ceiling with such a mountain of junk that most of its owner’s energy bill must be used to keep it all cool. Second, too much of the detailed plot development takes place in cars. It’s lazy again: in “Dying” the characters live in big German cities and would use public transport. Finally, both fall for a nasty trope about wily women, or witches, or unstable women who lead faithfully married men astray, or force unwanted alcohol down the throats of powerless men. (In comparison, men are portrayed either, as in “Dying,” as troubled artists; or, as in “Weapons,” as courageous saviours.) Still, if programming and time allow, watching the films back to back, as I did, is highly rewarding. Buy a large helping of the delicious new popcorn, ask one of the team to make you a Brechin-sourced “Playhouse Blend” coffee; and ponder where one of Tom’s lines, “I sort of have a baby.” came from. Adam Poole 10th August 2025
If you are interested in viewing Dying, please book your tickets here or if you are interested in viewing Weapons, please book your tickets here
