Sean Parker
Last year, one hundred and nineteen million Americans became enthralled by true crime podcasts, according to Audiochuck and Edison Research. Our cultural obsession with the brutal acts of others can be almost as curious as the acts themselves. Is the devil in the details, or are we just caught up in the web of intrigue left by a myriad of questions? Whatever it may be that draws so many listeners to follow these vicious crimes from incident through trial sentencing is anything but an ephemeral fixation. Some have even taken to the pages of Reddit or other sites to put pieces together that they think investigators may have missed. But in this age where media, the news, and entertainment mix, Pascal Plante’s Red Rooms (Les Chambres Rouges) asks, how far down the rabbit hole are you willing to go to know the truth?
Red Rooms is a very different beast from what we’re used to in the investigative aspects of film. This isn’t a police procedural. Instead, Red Rooms follows a young woman who has nothing to do with the unfolding courtroom drama that begins the film. The audience watches as Kelly-Anne (Juliette Gariépy) packs up her urban bed in a back alley and makes her way to the courthouse in the early morning hours before the trial. While this behavior may seem typical of a Black Friday deal seeker, Kelly-Anne’s efforts are to procure a seat in the high-profile closed court case of alleged murderer Ludovic Chevalier (Maxwell McCabe-Lokos).
Indicted for the brutal murders of three teenage girls, the media frenzy surrounding Chevalier’s trial propels him into Ted Bundy or Charles Manson-like celebrity status where groupies such as Clementine (Laurie Babin), who firmly believe in Chevalier’s innocence, attempt to get a peak at the supposed killer. Like Anatomy of Fall, Audiences watch Red Rooms’ trial play out over a few sessions as prosecutors try to make a thin amount of evidence stick by using some bold tactics, including the introduction of a violent video showing the heinous slaughter of the victims to be played in its entirety in court. Outside of the court, Kelly-Anne chases ruminations of a second video around the dark web.
Perhaps the one factor of Red Rooms that keeps the audience’s eyes glued to the screen is Kelly-Anne herself. As her actions become increasingly indecipherable, Red Rooms creates one of the most beguiling cinematic characters we’ve seen in the past year. Gariépy is utterly sublime in her performance. Pronouncing the subtleties of wading in the enigmatic spaces of the internet, Gariépy effortlessly dances between isolated stoicism, desensitized internet viewer, and anxious paranoia, all while living in an envious space as a fashion model, revealing her veritable genius of anonymous dark web poker parlors, and aptitude for investigatory tactics. Yet, without any reason to be in the courtroom or pronounced motives to go snooping at a victim’s door, Kelly-Anne’s actions could almost be comparable to horror movie slashers as the story continues.
Red Rooms therein becomes a visual version of obsessive true-crime fascination: the idea of a podcast that discusses the intimate details of a case and the insertion of oneself into the lives of the grief-stricken. While some true-crime blogs, podcasts, etc., have aided in serving justice, there have been others that have exploited the privacy of victims and their families or get hung up on evidence that may not be admissible. Plus, as the media frenzy surrounding a case builds, the uptick in public opinion can help swing bias against a potentially innocent person. Themes of serial killer notoriety play against Red Rooms’ protagonist’s scopophobia (fear of being perceived), denoting the voyeuristic tendencies of true-crime addicts to look and judge others while maintaining a safe distance from the limelight.
Plante makes some fascinating arguments within his film, none better than using a poorly made cup of coffee to suit his point. As Clementine introduces herself to Kelly-Anne, she tries to give her the only cup of coffee she’s holding. The scene helps build the characters’ personalities, particularly the disaffected nature of Kelly-Anne, who we’ve only seen speak to her robotic digital assistant before the meeting. Contrastingly, Clementine is genuinely warmer and something of a people pleaser, willing to give the alleged “wrongly made” coffee to Kelly-Anne without hesitation, saying she doesn’t like it the way the coffee shop made it. Kelly-Anne asserts, “It’s their job not to be wrong.” While yes, you should receive your coffee the way you like it, the commentary is very much about courtroom conviction accuracy.
A 2009 Study for the Overturn Rate of Canada’s Appellate Court revealed that British Columbia, Quebec, and Newfoundland & Labrador were above the national average when it came to appeals. Though Plante’s commentary may only refer to the satirical inference of baristas being held more accountable than those appointed to seek the truth in the courtroom, especially when they come up short, the scene resonates beyond the nuanced dialogue, as many scenes in Red Rooms do.
Ultimately, Red Rooms is mesmerizing, serving as a fantastic crime-based drama and an even better commentary on true-crime rabbit holes. The way Plante manages to weave the entire affair into a captivating film that’s under two hours is nothing short of baffling. There’s not an ounce of fat to trim on the movie, and it flies by as every action elicits intensifying reactions that keep the viewer white-knuckling the armrest as they wonder what direction the film will end up going. Like Haneke’s Funny Games, Red Rooms only eludes to the violence it references, never showing it on-screen and somehow making it more disturbing in the process. Red Rooms will keep you guessing and satiate any true-crime fan’s need for mystery, but looking beyond the surface will invite a discussion that puts them on trial.
Red Rooms is now playing in select theaters.
Red Rooms | Official Trailer | Utopia
https://redrooms.official.film/ Kelly-Anne wakes up every morning by the courthouse to secure a seat at the high-profile trial of Ludovic Chevalier, a serial killer she is obsessed with. As days go by, the young woman bonds with another friendly groupie, which momentarily breaks her out of her loneliness.
