Much Ado About Nothing was like an awesomerocket right into my brain.
Never have I been so aware of my body settling, fluid puddling in my swelling feet, my aching arse, as I was watching The Devil’s Plantation. A sort of Wisconsin Death Trip-esque film set in Glasgow, entirely composing of black and white shots of the city’s urban and rural landscapes while two voices narrate two unconnected strands of story that go nowhere. How I longed for a ned to headbutt the camera and put an end to it.
A tense psychological pressure cooker of a film that deals with horrifying truth that if you’re ever boarded by Somali pirates, your fate will be in the hands of a contract-negotiating, penny-pinching, pencil-necked businessman in a suit that costs more than your car, who has to answer to a board for how much he has spent on saving your life.