This article is a review of BABYCALL.

27 March 2012

By Hemanth Kissoon


“Anna… Where is Anders?” 

Opening with Noomi Rapace’s Anna lying bloody on the grass, it is unclear whether this is an image that starts the narrative chronology, or we’ll be returning to later. It creates tension immediately, signifying an anticipation of impending violent events. Anna is no Lisbeth Salander (a.k.a The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo), she is cowed and fragile, though has a fierce protective instinct over her child. Rapace’s slight frame adds to Anna’s vulnerability, contrasting the enhancement of Lisbeth’s tenacity.

Anna and her eight year old son Anders have relocated to an apartment in a large block of flats so that her ex-husband cannot discover their whereabouts. They are both victims of his physical abuse. At first she is so paranoid about her child’s safety she will not allow him out of her sight. Anna buys a babycall so that he can be heard from the next room. The device picks up screams from someone else’s babycall in the building.

The set-up has a palpable unease. Which direction will the story take? Instead of going for one or two options, it chucks in the whole caboodle:
- The social workers are crass and unsupportive - one of them is deeply sinister.
- Questions of her credibility emerge.
- Is Anna hallucinating?
- Has her husband been released from prison and about to find her?
- Is Anna’s new friend trustworthy?
- Are we the audience being tricked?
- Is there the supernatural?

BABYCALL is too messy. What is the film trying to say? This is what I wrote in my notes during the screening: “Ending - so b*llocks”.