FANTASTIC FEST: Breaking Down In ‘Bring Them Down’

Before Bring Them Down played, the Fantastic Fest programmer said we would be uncomfortable. More importantly, they warned the audience of the intensity of the violence toward animals in the film. Still, I wasn’t prepared for the shifting perspectives around the pain, the soundscape, or the emotional impact of the sequences.

After a tragic car accident, Michael is grounded in his life by his sheep and his father. Tending to the flock with his sheepdog in tow, his calmness keeps him centered, and his care for the sheep is clear in every interaction. At the same time, taking care of his sick father is a son’s duty and one that comes from love but also guilt. But when the neighboring clan (which just so happens to be his ex-girlfriend’s family), tensions rise, the sheep carry the burden, and the complications keep mounting as miscommunication and assumptions run unchecked.

Directed by Christopher Andrews and written by Andrews and Jonathan Hourigan, Bring Them Down is the most uncomfortable theater experience I’ve had all year. The animal violence is too much to bear, but it is not excessive for the story. The violent overreactions cascade one after the other in a quest for personal justice from a sense of filial piety. It’s all too much, and yet, I wouldn’t take any of it away.

The film is mean in a way that is hard to quantify. It’s mean in the lack of resolution, or perhaps in the fact that it makes you just accept how pointless every act of violence is. Nothing is made right, and that’s gutting. Only Bring Them Down, for all of its issues, doesn’t feel empty or incomplete. Instead, it feels like the perfect look at grief, holding on, anger, and the need to preserve your family above all else.

This isn’t some large roaring film that takes you through Ireland to examine just how majestic the island is. It’s a quiet story about families and desperation. We see two characters unravel against each other even as their lives and futures irreparably intertwine. Bring Them Down moves emotional mountains with very little, allowing actions to speak louder than words and make Gaelic the commanding overture of the film.

In the lead role, Christopher Abbott as Michael is a stature cracking with each poke and prod. Transfixed by his situation that just continues to get worse, the light fades from his eyes, even though there is very little left still shining after his mother’s death. Abbott is emotional in his delivery of every action, and once the film hits its point of no return, you can’t help but root for him in his endeavor, even if you know it’s the wrong thing.

For his part, Barry Keoghan is adept at playing an absolutely miserable boy. It’s his defining feature at this point across films like Banshees of Inirsherin and even Saltburn, and he does it well. Keoghan, as Jack, is confused. He has intent and purpose as his father pressures him to stop making mistakes and actually do something good for the family. But even with intent, the mousey boy lacks resolve, faltering in his own vulnerabilities when confrontation arises.

The dynamic between Michael and Jack is a dance. Sometimes, they are hateful, sometimes jealous, but nearly always blind to the whims or motivations of the other. As the conflict hits its crescendo, their relationship (or lack thereof) propels everything further.

Even with its violence, however, Bring Them Down features quick-witted humor nestled in a deadpan darkness. With situational humor doing the bulk of the work, the film never quite feels like it is embracing the comedy left in the wake of tragedy but instead is using observations and irony to map out a complementary approach to touching its audience that isn’t a need for vengeance.

Halfway between a drama and a thriller, tragedy is key to Andrews’ storytelling in Bring Them Down. I don’t know if I can ever watch Bring Them Down again. One time was enough, but it’s also all it needs to depress you and move you to your core. Pain is all there is in Bring Them Down. It sits with you, and you stew in it, carrying it for yourself and for the generation above you. Being a son is hard, and even harder when revenge keeps getting colder.

Bring Them Down screened as a part of Fantastic Fest.