X: Review By Bryan Yentz

Standing before a circle of wealthy women, a beautiful young lady dressed in the most provocative of attire circles the nude frame of a young man poised next to her. She pushes him down--and before the dozens of ravenous eyes watching them--they begin to copulate. Positions shift (as do the numerous femmes in their seats) before the male stands and personally finishes upon his partner staring up at him.

This is how the oddly titled, "X" opens as his climax ushers in immediate cut to black; the film's title a white punctuation to his pleasure. It's awkward, it's brow-raising, and the eroticism feels vacant. Oddly enough, this is one of the only "happy" moments of the film and the only other time (outside of the denouement), that daylight offers any solace from the malice of night. And as I read that last sentence to myself, I should clarify; it's not so much one of the only happy moments as it is the only moment of the film that the depiction of sex DOESN'T feel dirty. Yes, a scene in which a dozen women watch two people do the horizontal bop before the inevitable money-shot coats our protagonist--that is the cleanest depiction of the act. Everything else revolving around sex is layered with a stigma of filth. While not explicit, all of the physically "romantic" acts herein--whether it be a woman showering, another bearing her breasts, another receiving oral from a robed man--it all just feels grimy. As it should be considering the understandably overlooked world that director John Hewitt is exploring--that of Australia's sexual underbelly.

X is one of the most straight-forward thrillers of recent memory in that a large plot with twists and turns is NOT what it's after. Instead, this is a simple character-driven piece about two women on the opposite ends of the sexual spectrum trying to survive one night of hell. While Shay is that of a young girl reluctantly breaking into prostitution as a last means of escape; the other--Holly--is a veteran of the business--a high end call-girl who is able to see characteristics of herself in the young hooker. Hoping to abandon her career, Holly takes Shay under her wing as she performs one last job--a threesome with a high-payer. As one would expect, things go completely awry when one pathetic lump is made a "bowling ball" via a pistol and what should have been an easy means at money becomes a race through Sydney's vile infrastructure of inhumanity.

Coming from John Hewitt, I gotta say that I had been looking forward to seeing this film ever since I learned of its inception. While Hewitt's last effort was a polarizing piece of exceptionally human horror (ACOLYTES), what really set me up for excitement was X's excellent teaser trailer released earlier this year--not to mention the attention-grabbing fishnet poster. . . Yeah, I stared at it, a lot. . . Wanna fight about it? Anywho, while X is ultimately far more uplifting than ACOLYTES (but is still a gut-punch), it displays Hewitt's ever-growing talents as a director. While this might be in part to him, well, actually having a large budget this time around, his knack for shot-composition and storytelling feels far more structured. As seedy as the corrupt world herein is, it's all juxtaposed with sleek direction and a very large focus on garish lighting. Oddly enough, I even found that with such an un-PC film as this, it was quite refrained in its depictions. Yes, there's a good deal of full-frontal flesh and a large amount of the sexual encounters make you wanna take a shower, but it's all the more testament to Hewitt's filmmaking ability in that you don't have to outright see everything to feel bad about it.

As for the two leads, Viva Bianca (SPARTACUS) and Hannah Mangan Lawrence (also in ACOLYTES) completely sell their roles despite the fact that both personalities feel grounded in the cinematic stereotypes of yore (hookers with the heart of gold). While Holly is the knowledgeable purveyor of fleshly decadence, Shay is a forlorn soul willing to do what it takes just to get by. Throughout their tribulations, both are forced through a gamut of emotions which each actress delivers commendably. By the last act, I can honestly say that I was going to be quite pissed off if such a flick as this pulled a MARTYRS and denied any chance of a positive outcome. Thankfully, while the film ends on a bleak note, it's nonetheless uplifting as well.

Sadly, as intense as a majority of the film is, I must concede to the questionable choices of narrative development. One of the most annoying elements of X is that a good deal of imperative plot-points which connect scene to scene, derive from strange "coincidences". For example. . . Early on, when Holly rings her call-girl friend in hopes of taking a trained prostitute to the threesome, said call-girl slips in her shower and dies. That's it. Holly never discovers this, but instead leaves. Yes, this is what allows Holly to meet Shay, but the coincidence of such a moment is just ridiculous to me. So, this random woman without a name JUST HAPPENS to slip this ONE time and die from it? Convenient to say the least. Sequences such as this consistently occur--and while questionable--at least progress the film with a vicious pacing. Had such odd moments NOT worked in favor of our leading ladies, my opinion of these conveniences would have been far more condemning.

And on a personal level, I'm not exactly sure where to pinpoint where I began to feel this, but for a narrative that's trying so hard to be blunt, brutal, and morally reprehensible, many facets of the film just felt. . . Bland. I applaud the director's ability to sustain himself with such exploitable content as this, but even then, I didn't feel as though the movie was, well, extreme enough for the material it was exploring.

At the end of this neon-lit corridor through a pole-dancing hell, I still dug the final product of sleaze Hewitt and co. were able to concoct.

X is a dark, ugly little film that depicts nearly all men as misogynistic dogs, yet it has a stylish heart that keeps it all in check; never allowing it to become too depressing like the dour film, IRREVERSIBLE. Unlike that piece of soul-crushing art-house shock, X, remembers that it's a film--one with the possibility of hope and redemption. It may lack the overall power and emotional weight of ACOLYTES, but X remains a strong picture in Australia's ever-growing palette of game-changing cinema.