Love, loss, pain, drugs — dour drama asks tough questions
They say misery loves company, but the fact is most things enjoy like-minded companionship. Joy loves company. Loss loves company. Addiction loves company.
That last emotional transaction is at the heart of Castle in the Ground, a dark new drama from Canadian actor and now writer/director Joey Klein. It’s set in Sudbury in 2012, with the opioid crisis on its way to becoming front-page news in Canada.
Alex Wolff (Hereditary) stars as 19-year-old Henry, his young life on hold as he cares for his single mother (Neve Campbell), who is dying of cancer. His rituals include driving her to appointments, managing her medication and occasionally praying — though the sense is that he’s operating more out of habit than faith.
He also has a girlfriend, barely seen. Clearly his mom’s needs supersede anyone else’s, including his own. But when she dies, he finds himself drawn into the orbit of his new neighbour Ana (Imogen Poots), a troubled young woman he first notices at the pharmacy trying to score some methadone.
As Henry starts self-medicating with the remains of his mom’s pain medications, Ana sees him as a means to an end, what with his access to a working cellphone, an automobile, drugs, a bit of cash — all the things she wants/needs but can’t have. What does he get from her? Let’s just say that codependency loves company.
Klein shoots his feature not directly from Henry’s point of view, but keeps the camera close to the main character, with the result that we see things through his narrow, slightly naive perspective. It’s a useful way into the story for audience members who (I hope!) aren’t well versed in the ups and downs of illicit drugs. It also makes Henry’s descent more understandable, as are his half-hearted efforts to pull himself free from this life before it consumes him.
The film, which screened at several festivals last fall — Toronto, Vancouver and of course Sudbury — makes a detour from dour drama into thriller territory in the final act, with a subplot involving a stolen bag of drugs, and the lowlevel criminal types out to get it back. It ramps up the action, but feels forced, as though the movie doesn’t trust itself to stick to the tone of quiet desperation with which it began.
It’s more than the movie needs to get its point across. But it’s not enough to sink this cautionary tale, which asks a disturbing question: When misery finally decides to part company, how does it manage to let go?