Damage

Such a brutal, complicated film. In its first forty-five minutes or so, I was entirely under Damage’s spell. I was pausing every few minutes, just reckoning with the events so quickly and so seductively unfolding before me. At its heart, it’s a story of obsession, and it is so beautifully rendered. The glances. The stretches of silence between Anna and Stephen. Every small, mundane gesture — all eluding to a bigger, more devastating picture. It isn’t often that I see desire portrayed as something so innate, irrational, and persuasive. I know I am an outlier here, but I love Damage, with raw, soul-crushing performances from Irons (I love you, pookie!) and Binoche both.