If the hyperbolic damnation of Brass Eye’s Paedophile Special taught us anything, it is not that paedophiles can disguise themselves as schools, it’s that paedophilia is a touchy subject. British Director David Slade knows this, and has used the media preconceptions of paedophilia, as well as the moral hysteria it generates, and crafted one most fraught and claustrophobic thrillers in recent memory.
Hand Candy (internet slang for under age female) was released in Britain amidst a surfeit of topical circumstance. Headlines and families across the country were again rallying their cause that the penalty for paedophilia was too flippant; in this instance, a repeated paedophile (reported to have been committing crimes against children for over thirty years) was sentenced to only 11 years in prison, and could be street-bound again within 6 years. Many, it seemed, called for stronger judgement.
Enter Hard Candy’s Hayley Stark, the barely-pubescent angel of death, torture and castration. Hayley is the golem for self-served justice and primal vigilantism; claiming to be the vengeful spirit of every girl or boy ever abused… yet this isn’t entirely what concerns director David Slade and screenwriter Brain Nelson. What makes Hard Candy so affecting (see: disturbing) is the fact that the audience is never entirely sure whether the horror that Hayley unleashes is warranted or simply wicked.
A tipper-tapper of a keyboard, along with quasi-suggestive internet chatroom banter acts as the calm before the storm. Thirty-something affluent photographer Jeff has been talking to 14-year-old schoolgirl Hayley in internet chatrooms for several weeks; at her request, he agrees to a rendezvous. Director David Slade uses extreme close-ups for what seems like the first third of the film, and lays down a chilling ambience over any potentially upbeat moment; it creates a consistant queasiness and claustrophobia that only heightens as events unfold. The initial question is: “What is he doing? he seems approachable, doesn’t look like a paedophile should, does he have an agenda? Is this simply a misguided friendship?” Yet before long, we’re asking: “What is she doing?” and “what is she going to do with that?”
Ellen Page (as Hayley) last seen cuddling up to the Ice Man in X-Men 3, seems almost artificially rendered for the role; her character uses her bright-eyed naivety and diffident smile to ensnare her prey; she’s a sociopathic Lolita ‘on the honour role’, as she’ll tell you. But where Page’s transformation from school girl to into dead-eyed purveyor or pain is entirely believable, and completely petrifying, our feelings are with Jeff. His methods of dissuasion, at first from the point of authority, and lastly to a point of endless pleading, are intelligently made, and he provides reason where she provides only malice. At one point he asks: “When you grow up, get married, you’re going to think of this moment, do you really want that?” We feel every quiver of his lip, every scream, every bead of sweat.
Aside from one or two minor grievances; the heartless and sardonic quips that Hayley reels off become tiresome, and why exactly does she hate Goldfrapp? – despite this, David Slade has crafted a malicious and claustrophobic film that provides thrills, chills and some occasional spills. It boasts towering performances from both leads, and Ellen Page may even deserve an Oscar, does anyone know of any other recent, such impressively acted female psychopaths? Besides Misery? Probably not, but Hard Candy, to its utmost credit, is the kind of film that truly demands a response… popcorn escapism, it certainly ain’t. The question here may be: does pitching evil against an evil, violence against violence, really provide closure? However, many of us will simply be clutching our balls.