Review: Swallow
At a dinner with her charming husband and his affluent parents, Hunter (Haley Bennett) begins to reluctantly tell an anecdote from her childhood. Before she gets very far, she is rudely interrupted by her father-in-law, who prefers to talk business with his son, the new Managing Director of his ambiguous company. Rather than speak up, Hunter becomes transfixed by the hard, crackling cubes of ice in her glass, enamoured by the thought of biting down on them; when she does, she has completely forgotten the feeling of humiliation from moments before.
Hunter has Pica, a condition in which people become obsessed with swallowing objects which are often indigestible and extremely dangerous. A homemaker and housewife to attractive, successful Richie (Austin Stowell), Hunter spends her days tending to their lavish home, before greeting her husband and doing whatever it takes to please him. Her monotonous routine is sometimes broken up with visits from or to her passive aggressive mother-in-law, who ominously tells her that the best advice she ever received was, “fake it ‘til you make it”. Hunter’s entire existence depends on the shiny veneer of happily married perfection that she has cultivated, and when she discovers she’s pregnant, it seems more important that her husband and his parents be happy about it than that she is. Nothing about her life is controlled by her, so she finds another way to take control: swallowing inedible objects, or as she creepily tells Richie, doing “something unexpected”.
Enticed by a small, smooth marble in a box of trinkets at her home, the first time Hunter swallows an object it’s framed almost like a love scene; with soft-focus and camera zooms, her desire to hold the marble in her mouth is tangible. When Hunter swallows, contentment and relief wash over her face. It’s a testament to director Carlo Mirabella-Davis and his cinematographer Katelin Arizmendi that, despite the discomfort of imagining these dangerous objects in our own mouths, we can’t look away. Sounds of chewing, swallowing and breathing are viscerally heightened, placing us alongside Hunter in her escalating need for escape. Bennett’s performance is breathtaking; her sickly-sweet voice is disconcerting, her desperation—telling Richie, “I just want to make sure I’m not doing anything wrong”— is almost cringe-inducing. Everything about Hunter exudes a lack of comfort, her anxiety bubbling away just underneath the surface of a perfect, pristine facade. And Stowell is wonderful as Richie, well-groomed and wide-smiled, making sure everyone around him knows just how good he has it. He isn’t the abusive, oppressive husband we’re used to seeing on screen, and he’s able to trick the audience into his charm just as much as he does with everyone around him. After discovering Hunter’s condition, Richie wants to help her, often showing empathy and care for her, despite a low-level control over her that’s actively encouraged by his parents. Meanwhile, Hunter is adamant that there’s nothing wrong, even screaming, “I’m fine!” as she’s wheeled away in a stretcher through hospital corridors.
Kitsch, 1950s-style production and costume design encourages us to feel as if Hunter and Richie are from a different time; her repressed nature, desperate need to please her husband, and his friends seems at odds with fourth-wave feminism and the strong, complex female characters we’ve seen on screen in recent years. But Hunter is a victim of circumstance, and underneath the image she’s projecting is a steady ball of rage, and when she finally lets it show, it’s extremely satisfying. While Swallow’s trailer may suggest an eerie, psychological body horror full of suspense, Mirabella-Costa’s feature debut is more of a slow-burning meditation on patriarchy and mental health that feels slightly unfinished when the narrative reaches its end. Nevertheless, Bennett’s spellbinding performance and a truly original premise make this a joy to watch, no matter how uncomfortable it might feel at times. Just make sure to watch it after a meal, not before.
