‘Sometimes I imagine she’s alive. Somewhere far away. She’s very happy…’
I’ve seen some films in my time. I’ve especially seen some horror films. Heck, I was raised on The Evil Dead and A Nightmare on Elm Street movies. Times were hard. Dog poo was white. It was a strange and confusing era. But even in the most oddly depraved and obscure corners of my viewing habits, I never encountered Dutch psychological horror before. And yet, here we are…
Rex (Gene Bervoets) and Saskia (Johanna ter Steege) are a young and carefree Dutch couple holidaying in France and partaking in all sorts of phallic symbolism involving a tunnel. Things take a sharp downward turn when Saskia goes missing. Thus begins a game of cat and mouse between Rex, and Saskia’s abductor Raymond (Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu).
The key to The Vanishing is the serene yet sinister performance from Donnadieu as the horrifyingly ordinary serial killer and family man Raymond. His offbeat mannerisms contrast wonderfully with the increasingly hysterical stylings of Gene Bervoets as Rex, to the point where, at times, it is unclear who the audience should be rooting for. Is Raymond an anti-hero or just a violent murderer? The answer is unclear. A welcome slice of ambiguity in a genre that is so often cut and dry.
The other key element that ensures that The Vanishing remains a success, despite the paper thin plot, is the assured direction of French auteur George Sluizer. Having the film mostly take place in broad daylight adds an extra element of menace and the haunting but unusual score also adds to the uncanny mundanity of it all.
Horror as a genre has never been in a healthier position than it is now but occasionally we must return to the past and remember the malevolent seeds that enabled such harrowing trees to grow for future generations…