Raised by Wolves and Wrath of Man star (a BAFTA nominee for Nick Rowland’s Calm With Horses) Algar plays Enid, an overachieving film censor at the British Board of Film Classification (BBFC). Censor is set at the height of the UK’s “video nasty” craze, which saw the BBFC crack down upon graphic scary movies on newly available VHS. The movement saw dozens of films prosecuted or outright banned—mostly focused on bat-house garbage you’ve never heard of, though some superlative genre flicks (The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Suspiria, The Last House on the Left) were, lamentably, caught in the crosshairs. The crackdown coincided with a similar-if-less-bureaucratic pressuring from stateside’s MPAA that resulted in the latter Friday the 13th sequels having about as much gore as the average Batman movie. Enid is a beauty who wears frumpy clothing and takes her job way too seriously (“I protect people,” she tells her parents and colleagues, on multiple occasions). Her workaholism is a Band-Aid for an unthinkable sickness inside; she’s never really mourned her sister Nina, who disappeared under highly questionable circumstances when they were young girls. Denial is a killer, and Enid still believes her sister is out there somewhere, alive. After a grisly local murder echoes a scene in a trashy movie Enid and her co-worker passed (with an 18 rating, “with heavy cuts”), scandal erupts; Enid’s name is publicized and tarnished. That’s when she notices an actress in one of the forbidden nasties bears a resemblance to Nina. Censor is an effective and diverting expressionistic horror. Without hitting us over the head, Bailey-Bond mirrors a twisted culture that demonizes violence while utterly reveling in it. If not as jaw-droppingly as other recent horror pictures Mandy and The Love Witch, the audiovisual experience is intoxicatingly evocative, several scenes shot in 4:3, the audio often obsessed with tape-like crackles and hisses that are bound to delight most of the people who see Censor. The dreamlike Censor doesn’t cut all that deep, and it doesn’t even have the satisfying metaphoric logic of The Babadook (what the hell does?!), but it works, thanks in no small part to its leading lady. Algar’s performance is very good. From the get-go, there’s something sly beneath the fussy, stentorian surface. As Enid unravels, Algar flexes. The statuesque Irish performer is, definitely, an actor to watch. For the record, this is the second outstanding British genre film directed by a woman about a heroine haunted by the loss of a Nina to come out in six months (perhaps you heard about little-movie-that-could Promising Young Woman)? Emerald Fennell’s word-of-mouth wonder Oscar winner was such an upset to the system it felt like a game-changer. Censor settles for being a stylish, captivating and occasionally bonkers trek through thematic material familiar to the genre. Running time: 84 minutes Rated R for buckets of blood, flying heads, and plenty of swearing. From Magnolia Pictures, Censor is now in select theaters, at home June 18th.
