Cult Hit
If you saw ‘La chimera’ last week and feel the need for more hyper-stylised art house Euro-commentary, Jessica Hausner is here for you.
Club Zero
Director: Jessica Hausner • Writers: Jessica Hausner, Géraldine Bajard
Starring: Mia Wasikowska, Ksenia Devriendt, Sidse Babett Knudsen, Luke Barker, Florence Baker, Samuel D Anderson
Austria / UK / Germany • 1hr 50mins
Opens Hong Kong Aug 8 • IIA
Grade: B
In Jessica Hausner’s Club Zero, The Talent Campus is an elite and very expensive boarding school where elite and very rich parents can dump their kids and tell themselves they’re raising them right by hiring someone else to raise them. The thinking is that they’re preparing their kids for the rigours of the real world by giving them the best education money can buy. Into this ripe-for-the-picking environment comes Miss Novak (Mia Wasikowska), a progressive, cutting-edge thinker who school head Miss Dorset (Sidse Babett Knudsen, The Duke of Burgundy) hires to teach a class on “conscious eating”. At first Miss Novak is simply advocating for a more responsible way to consume food – kind of like that anti-corporate, GMO-free vegan friend we all have always does – but before long the entire class is confusing environmental and health benefits with disordered, pro-ana eating. They want to join Miss Novak in the exclusive Club Zero, whose members consume zero calories. Eventually the kids’ parents, Miss Dorset and we viewers all recognise Club Zero for what it is: a cult. By that time, it’s too late.
Ommmm?
Club Zero has a lot going on, perhaps too much, with the added bonus of possibly the gnarliest vomit scene in recent memory. It’s not entirely gratuitous, and it does speak to the story Hausner is telling and the issues she’s poking at, but it’s the kind of disgusting talking point that could overshadow the rest of the film. I promise you that aside from some typically fabulous mid-century modern production design (by Beck Rainford) it’s what will stick with you most. And Austrian filmmaker Hausner has lots on her mind in her second English-language film – after the large format print ready killer plant cautionary tale Little Joe – and she takes aim at (among other issues) the diet and wellness industries, free-range parenting, private school hypocrisy and the age-old need for teens to find a space of belonging, which these days can lean towards radical sustainability. What separates a generation from the beef-eating, gas-guzzling one before it better than rejecting its consumer ideals?
But of course, we all know “belonging” can be dangerous. Miss Novak’s unfortunate class is made up of privileged kids looking for ways to transcend that privilege. The most devoted acolyte is Elsa (Ksenia Devriendt), who is borderline disordered anyway thanks to a mother that puts way too much effort into her own image. There’s Fred (Luke Barker), an aspiring dancer of negligent parents, always off doing research or some shit somewhere. Ragna (Florence Baker) has annoyingly hipster parents that make good-natured “jokes” about her weight and try way too hard to be cool. As the class embraces the cult thinking, a few outliers surface – notably the non-white kids, and the one white kid that’s not rich. Ben (Samuel D Anderson) is simply there to get a credit so he doesn’t lose his scholarship. His single mother can’t afford The Talent Campus.
Through all the fanaticism-fuelled body horror and damaging conspiracy theories packaged as new-age wellness is the enigmatic Miss Novak. Wasikowska wisely plays her cards close to the chest and keeps the teacher at a remove that to impressionable minds could seem compelling. We never see Miss Novak actually practise what she preaches, usual cult leader bait-and-switch, but that means we never get a handle on what her goals are either. Still, she’s as creepy as she is transparent, and Wasikowska’s unidentifiable accent adds to her otherness. Unfortunately, the largely non-pro or first time cast can’t quite keep up with her, and frequently registers as bored rather than disaffected, and there is a fine line between the two. But despite some wobbly performances, Club Zero has more than its share of thought-provoking moments – puke scene aside – and like Little Joe it won’t be for everyone. Hausner’s ultra-stylised visuals wrap her and regular co-writer Géraldine Bajard’s ideas about manipulation, control and ideologies in primary colours and geometrically divided spaces that isolate the players and can easily be viewed as superfluous – and partially distracting; to crib from McLuhan it’s like the medium is the message. But it’s quite a message. — DEK