Werewolf

Andrew Gillis and Bhreagh MacNeil are addicts on a methadone program in rural Nova Scotia. They live in a trailer in the woods and make money by mowing lawns. They occasionally muse about leaving.

MacNeil takes some steps towards getting her act together, moving back into her mother's house and getting a job at a fast food restaurant. Gillis thwarts her at every turn, stealing her methadone and alienating everyone around him.

This is a really beautifully shot film that's sort of a character meditation. It has some things to say on co-dependency and the way tiny steps can be momentous in some life situations, but generally, very little happens. I personally love this kind of film, but it'd be a very hard sell for some viewers.

Movie is kind of hard to watch, not because it's a sad story but because it's hard to stay in it and there's no interest in seeing what the end will be.

A movie can scarcely be more low-budget than "funded through government grants." The bare-bones production also lends credence to the realism of the story - fiction, but only just. 'Werewolf' is a portrait of poverty and despondent desperation, with the further stigma of drug addiction saddling the social and financial outlook. It's questionable whether it can be called a pleasant watch, but it is excellent in its simplicity, and uniquely captivating. The earnest, plainspoken writing is deeply engrossing - characters, dialogue, scenes, and the overall narrative being as inescapably real as any film could be. Filmmaker Ashley McKenzie's swell direction mirrors her screenplay with no small number of static, unmoving shots in which characters step out of frame and back in, or are seen only on the periphery - a seeming reflection of how protagonists Blaise and Nessa can't break away from their hardship, even as they frequently discuss leaving.

Sullen and subdued as the roles are, stars Andrew Gillis and Bhreagh MacNeil give great performances as Blaise and Nessa. The quiet nuance in their portrayals serves to further emphasize the verisimilitude of the picture, making the characters feel genuine and believable. As the narrative progresses, and the two advance along their paths, Gillis and MacNeil subtly inject a measure of personality into the parts, making the stars and their depictions ever more endearing.

For as distinctly hushed and low-key as the film is, it's roundly engaging, ably keeping our attention with wonder of just how things will turn out for the hapless pair. The sheer precariousness of the scenario leaves much in question - and, details aside, reminds viewers of the terrible ease with which any one of us could just as readily find ourselves in dire straits much like Blaise and Nessa. For being so little on the surface, 'Werewolf' nonetheless achieves a great deal in its decisively unembellished approach. It offers a compelling story, anchored by solid performances, writing, and film-making. Between the subject matter and the deeply muted tone, this isn't going to be for everyone, but if one is receptive to features of this nature, then 'Werewolf' is a superb, softly riveting cinematic slice of life that's well worth seeking out.

No glamour on opiods here, slow, sad movie. Not bad!

The sad, boring lives of a couple of methadone users in a small, Canadian town. Ashley McKenzie's "Werewolf" makes few concessions to its audience; almost nothing happens and McKenzie films it in a flat, dull style in muted, washed-out colours that mirrors the life of its protagonists, a spaced-out Andrew Gillis and a zombie-like, almost silent Bhreagh MacNeil who act as if they're making it up as they go along. This is a bleak and not very likeable picture but at 80 minutes at least it's mercifully short though while you're watching it you might think it will go on forever.