With solid central performances and brutal practical effects, Vleesdag (Meat Kills), screening at FrightFest, is a new kind of slaughterhouse horror that challenges as much as it horrifies, culminating in a final act that defies our expectations and cements its place as an intriguing exploration of how violence begets violence.
The slaughterhouse has long sat at the heart of horror. From The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) to Slaughterhouse (1987), these works have explored themes ranging from meat production to butchery and industrialisation; hell, some have even dared to explore themes of human harvesting. On film, the slaughterhouse often uncomfortably shines a light on our ability to separate our treatment of farm animals from our views on the sacredness of the human body or the animals we choose to love and protect.
By placing humans in the same position as a pig or cow, these horrors challenge the very foundations of our beliefs surrounding our carnivorous behaviours. Martijn Smits’ Vleesdag (Meat Kills) does the same. However, it’s also a film that refuses to play by the established rules in its exploration of these issues, by sinking its knife into the politics of division and belief and the strong, unyielding behaviours that sit on either side of the slaughterhouse fence.
For animal rights activists Nasha (Emma Josten), Ish (Sem Ben Yakar), Donna (Chardonnay Rillen) and Humphrey (Tommy Zonneveld), meat is murder, and those who carve it are targets for retribution. The Animal Army they have formed, led by the power-hungry Nasha and the volatile Ish, isn’t interested in merely handing out leaflets picturing slaughtered animals, or protesting outside farms; they believe action should mean action. It’s a message that appeals to the quiet and reserved Mirthe (Caro Derkx), who passionately believes in protecting all animals. Still, Nasha has long refused her entry to their club, fearing she doesn’t have what it takes to be a member.
Mirthe isnt going to take no for an answer, and she has a plan to secure her place in the Animal Army that also comes with risks. Her old schoolmate Jonathan (Sweder de Sitter) always had a soft spot for her, and his family also runs the local pig farm and slaughterhouse. There, his father, Jonas (Bart Oomen), older brother Jacco (Derron Lurvink) and sickly young sister (Juliëtte van de Weerdt) keep the business alive despite the recent loss of their mother and the economic downturn in farming.
All Mirthe needs to do is ask Jonathan for a job, and she knows she will be given one, so that’s exactly what she does. Using Jonathan to get into the farm, she secretly films the slaughter process and the violent treatment of the pigs, with the intention of passing the tape to the Animal Army to secure her place in their fold.
Despite getting caught filming and being ejected from the farm, Mirthe’s plan works, and she is soon welcomed into the Animal Army. But Mirthe is unprepared for Nasha and Ish’s plan to invade the farm in the dead of night and exact revenge – a plan that soon turns into a home invasion with devastating, gruesome, and bloody results for all involved.
As stated earlier in this review, what’s fascinating about Vleesdag (Meat Kills) is its unwillingness to play by the established rules of perpetrators and victims. Smits’ bloody film refuses to align itself with either the activists or the struggling farming family, instead focusing its lens on the politics of extremism on both sides. If there is one message that comes from this film, it’s that extreme beliefs, on all sides of the political spectrum, will always lead to blood and violence.
Smits’ film, written by Paul de Vrijer, doesn’t spare us from that blood and violence, as the slaughterhouse and farm become a gateway to hell. For some viewers, the raw horror on display in Vleesdag (Meat Kills) may prove too much, and at times it threatens to derail more interesting themes. But for those willing to look beyond the gruesome deaths at its core, Smits’ film offers surprising depth in its socio-political commentary, ensuring the movie never falls into the trap of becoming a simple gorefest that many of us have grown bored of in recent years.
With solid central performances and brutal practical effects, this is a new kind of slaughterhouse horror that challenges as much as it horrifies, leading to a final act that defies our expectations and cements its place as an intriguing exploration of how violence begets violence.
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