So here it is – what the entirety of this series of essays has been building up to – my first watch of this movie in a decade.
There’s no denying that Martyrs is an engrossing, visceral, some may even say fucked-up piece of cinema that transcends even the horror genre as it makes you feel the torture being inflicted on the main characters throughout as what is essentially a cult tries to find transcendence.
This however is not going to be a review though… there’s a reason it’s taken me a decade to watch this again.
Her name was Sarah. Welsh, bright, bubbly, the first person I know that liked Anaal Nathrakh and Elliot Smith in equal measure. The first time we and a few friends hung out together it ended up with her playing World Of Warcraft at about 5am after watching Bronson – the excellent breakout film for Tom Hardy.
Martyrs was the only horror film we watched together – and she was the first person I ever felt any semblance of love for.
They knew that but we both knew for reasons it couldn’t work, we both had our own issues but the close friendship we had led to some fun nights out then one day out of the blue she got taken away from us.
Stomach ulcer that had burst it turned out (due to health issues) but the feeling when I got the news was like a piercing to the heart, hell as if the universe couldn’t have timed it better the weather that night as I left the local rock/metal club was a thunder storm.
Grief as I know even more since losing my Nana never fully goes away but this was the first big experience I truly felt – to the point that it took a while to watch Bronson and The Lego Movie (the last movie we all saw together, even if she did fall asleep halfway through and I never knew if she ever saw the real world twist…)
The last couple of years though I got to know someone more and it felt safe to open up again and gradually over time the feeling that I thought I had lost came back… and she knows I’m always going to be grateful for that - and even as close friends they remain someone very dear to my heart. They also recommended The Watcher In The Woods and Death Becomes Her hence their inclusion in earlier essays.
So it was time to watch Martyrs.. and I remembered why we’d watched that together all those years ago and yes it may have felt different because she wasn’t there and there was moments of emotion while watching it and writing this but it was like she was telling me she was OK.
Everything was going to be OK – a rebirth from something that felt like death.