Manodrome
LIONSGATE
Jessie Eisenberg is seemingly on a course trying to uncover forms and depth of masculinity be it in The Hummingbird Project, The Art of Self Defence, Vivarium, and now the more on-the-nose explicit depiction of toxic masculinity of Manodrome. Directed by John Trengove, this a feature – which explicitly explores the absurdity, tragedy and suffering of defeated men looking for a scapegoat within their own lives – bounds together to find prejudice to fuel the said fire. It’s at times fascinating, cruel and dangerous, albeit perhaps underwritten in certain parts but hits ever so deep and dark when it shows its hand.
This is a venture that is devised like the Manodrome cult itself. It is a slow, methodical intoxication of love, guidance and acceptance that soon turns into dark enraptured torment and squeezes its grip until something snaps and bursts. But like all cults, the direction and trajectory become blatantly clear and too obvious with how it’s all going to end. Nevertheless, Manodrome is quite the ride in all its bleak and faux empowerment. Partly watching someone fall into these events is undeniably fascinating but equally as fascinating is the narrative of just how far certain characters and events will go.
For starters, Eisenberg throws himself in this arc and character with genuine believability and engagement to quite brutal and dark results. He creates an immersive character that is both vulnerable and dangerous, perfectly riding on that line for emotive immersion and eventual destruction. It’s a tough line to follow but the accomplished actor crafts quite a challenging performance of someone who is destroying themselves and crafting a one-way narrative of self-destruction but in the same breath a level of desperation. It’ll go one of two ways for audiences who don’t see the tragedy of this tale, albeit the film does not shine a light on said events nor martyr the character. It’s a steady but horrifying decline Eisenberg crafts on screen, one that crumbles before the viewer's eyes in terror and disruption, curated through a false sense of impacting external physicality and internal crumbling of emotional insecurity and self-doubt. It takes the very best of nuance and craft to curate something so simple yet powerful in performative prowess.
Without sounding disparaging, Eisenberg is so engaging that little else here takes up much precedent during its running time and it has a lot to store within. For one, Adrien Brody and Odessa Young add great dressing to proceedings in polar opposite tones to Eisenberg’s trajectory. Keeping Brody’s character purposefully stoic and closed off of depth adds a tremendous sense of ambiguity and uncertainty to how these types of personalities flourish as unknown but all-knowing figures. Young is equally purposefully underused and is positioned to act as the emotional lynchpin that is keeping Eisenberg’s Ralphie stable both psychologically and physically, and without her as a presence throughout this narrative and her soft-spoken charm, ultimately the turn of Eisenberg doesn’t hit anywhere near as deep. That being said, she is often purposely sidelined in the narrative to ostracise Ralphie by his deliberate and conscious actions, done so effectively to reiterate it is Ralphie himself pushing others to the brink just as he is himself.
It is not a film that screams cinematic aesthetic either. It gets to the point quickly and without a sense of visual ego, rather focusing on character and allowing that to take precedence during the running time which artistically is a brilliant choice to remove all flair and visuals for the audience to fully and truly view Ralphie and his actions as what they and associate artics merit within them. Nevertheless, giving limelight to this type of trajectory and behaviour is still a dangerous concoction and concern, albeit Eisenberg and Trengove do take considerable care to ensure violence and this type of lifestyle choice leads to dismal and dangerous results with horrifying consequences. That being said, certain parts of this narrative and story arc feel underdeveloped and conventional with unspoken homosexual repression which feels a predictable and stereotypical testament of incel behaviour albeit working in the testament of a character is consistently trying to evoke a sense of masculinity and afraid of his sexuality. Further ambiguously projecting a sense of racial tension and fear which collides with the above-mentioned examination of sexuality. The controversy is that said motifs and underbelly are all used as internal anguishes that push the lead character to horrendous and insipid levels of evil, which in turn is not inaccurate with the many real-life reports of these types of radical men’s groups but is crafted in very basic levels of story and examination but perhaps works in the context of being very small details for these types of people to find within themselves to justify horrible behaviour? Once again it’s up to the viewer to digest and form an opinion.
Manodrome is an often dark, dreary and brutal rendition of toxic masculinity but more so the tragedy of damaged – or as simple as lonely young men trying to find something but being groomed and intoxicated into a world of acceptance with damaging and suffocating practices. Either way, the viewer looks at the output, the central performance of Eisenberg impresses with a terrific balance of talent in terms of internal and external emotive ability. It all fears up for a tragic and unpleasant climax (that might be an understatement), and it may take too many liberties in its final few moments but makes its impact.
