Going back to the genesis of true crime will transport you across centuries; even looking at examples in film, such as Errol Morris' The Thin Blue Line, will take you back to the 1980s. More recently, Netflix's hit series Making a Murderer, which first premiered in 2015, spurred the streaming giant to capitalise on this increasingly popular genre. It is no surprise, then, that a film like Red Rooms has been made—a complex and gritty deep-dive into humanity's fascination with criminal acts and the lines people will overstep to have a front row seat to such morbid occurrences.
The focus of Red Rooms is the criminal trial of serial killer Ludovic Chevalier (a wordless but chilling Maxwell McCabe-Lokos). Kelly-Anne (an often wordless and similarly chilling Juliette Gariépy) is one of the handful of the public who go everyday to the two month long court hearing, as the details of Chevalier's abduction, torture, and murder of three schoolgirls are recounted and, via video, shown in intense detail. Director Pascal Plante conducts these lengthy and mesmerising courtroom scenes with a style that ekes out all the tension and horror of the events being described without ever showing them in gratuitous detail.
Red Rooms is not just a straight sprint through this trial; Plante's film consistently goes to deeper depths than you can ever imagine. Its ending, for example, is fascinating, and adds further complexity to the character of Kelly-Anne. The frequently emotionless lead is neither a protagonist nor an antagonist, with her actions falling on both sides of the morality spectrum. At times, her background investigation into the case, which sees her searching for the video of the third victim that could prove Chevalier's guilt, implies she only wants to see justice be exacted. At other more frequent and disturbing points, her actions are sinister and clearly show an unhealthy fascination with the shocking crime.
It is a monumental concoction created by Plante, boosting an already intriguing story into something morally ambiguous. Gariépy's startling performance underlines Red Rooms' utterly fascinating exploration of true crime and the dark web. In one of the performances of the year, Gariépy is simultaneously transfixing and unnerving as Kelly-Anne's ill-fated and frankly horrible decisions cause her life to spiral out of control, all as a compelling courtroom drama plays out in the background. Laurie Babin also excels as Clémentine, a groupie of Chevalier's who has an equally unhealthy obsession with the case and an unerring support for the murderer.
Via the viewer's own fascination with the trial and story of Red Rooms, Plante effectively points the camera back at us. He by no means accuses the audience of taking such drastic and illegal actions as Kelly-Anne, but the ever-increasing craze with true crime bears many similarities to some of her actions. Sparingly used but haunting music by Dominique Plante and excellent lighting further invigorate Red Rooms. As Pascal Plante's film continues to surprise us with the turns it takes, we are taken on a sordid and chilling journey through the potentially unhealthy appetite of many people for true crime. The dark web, as shown here, can be an accessory for such obsessions to take on even uglier and more troubling directions.
Red Rooms is in cinemas from 6th September.
