There
is a long and dishonorable tradition of demonizing shell-shocked veterans in
exploitation films (see Carnage Park,
or rather don’t see it). However, the PTSD-afflicted Vincent Loreau is a
different case entirely. Yes, he is paranoid and sometimes violent, but those
will be useful traits in Alice Winocour’s Disorder
(a.k.a.
Maryland, trailer here), which opens this
Friday in New York.
Loreau
is on an extended medical from the French Special Forces, with no real
expectation of reinstatement anytime soon. He is generally quite
high-functioning, but he endures semi-regular episodes that leave him
immobilized by flashbacks from the past. Regardless of his stability, Loreau
will pick up some freelance armed security work, thanks to his former comrade
Denis. Their first gig together will be the swanky party thrown by shady
Lebanese-French businessman Imad Whalid at the luxurious villa he dubbed “Maryland.”
As
he patrols the halls and grounds, Loreau overhears enough to suspect Whalid is
in the arms trade and his business has taken a dangerous downward turn. Those
suspicions seem to be borne out by Whalid’s precipitous departure on a secret
business trip the following day. Wanting protection for his wife Jessie and
young son Ali, Whalid contracts with Denis for some on-site protection.
Thinking it will be an easy temp gig, he gives it to Loreau. Of course, Loreau
is painfully awkward around Jessie Whalid, especially when his manic impulses
kick in, but his hyper-vigilance is soon vindicated. Eventually he will have to
dig in at Maryland, with only the reliable Denis for back-up.
Disorder is a pretty lean
and mean home invasion-slash-[relative]-innocents-in-jeopardy thriller with Euro-techno
flavoring layered on top and a dash of political paranoia added for garnish. In
a welcome departure from her over-heralded feature debut Augustine, Winocour keeps the action tight and tense. Of course,
her co-leads are clearly playing to their strengths. Nobody better embodies a
big hulk with a big hurt inside than Bullhead’s
Matthias Schoenaerts. He has instant action cred, but also acutely
expresses Loreau’s socially stunted vulnerability.
Similarly, the German-born
Diane Kruger is no stranger to polyglot ice queens, but she also connects with
Madame Whalid’s mothering side and gilded alienation. Paul Hamy’s Denis also
adds a few shots of energy and attitude without compromising the film’s
hothouse atmosphere.
