I avoid music described as "easy listening." Likewise, I abjure shallow, commercial cinema that might be described as "easy viewing." Frig is not easy viewing under anyone's definition.
Rather than a narrative framework, Hickling's project is an impressionistic work in three parts incorporating performance art, dance, music and the visual arts. It is not an easy film to watch and there are no doubt a considerable number of film goers who will find themselves unable to stick it out to the project's conclusion.
This is indeed a pity, as the film must be seen in its entirety to be properly appreciated. The sadism and scatology of the disturbing middle section is tempered by both the magical forest sequence that follows it and the idyllic scenes that precede it in part one. Taken as a whole, one can appreciate the kaleidoscope of both darkness and light that contribute to Hickling's overall vision.
Ultimately, with a film such as this, the question must be asked: is the use of such dark and frequently grotesque images an honest expression of a sincerely held artistic vision or is it intended merely to disturb and offend complacent audiences? With Hickling it is clear both from this individual film and the other two parts of the trilogy ("Little Gay Boy" and "Where Horses Go to Die") that there is a cinematic intelligence at work here that is both fearless and relentlessly sincere.
It is a matter of personal inclination whether a viewer is prepared to go all the way with Hickling on his dark adventures, but a failure of courage on the part of the viewer is in no way a reflection on the creator's accomplishment.
Rather than a narrative framework, Hickling's project is an impressionistic work in three parts incorporating performance art, dance, music and the visual arts. It is not an easy film to watch and there are no doubt a considerable number of film goers who will find themselves unable to stick it out to the project's conclusion.
This is indeed a pity, as the film must be seen in its entirety to be properly appreciated. The sadism and scatology of the disturbing middle section is tempered by both the magical forest sequence that follows it and the idyllic scenes that precede it in part one. Taken as a whole, one can appreciate the kaleidoscope of both darkness and light that contribute to Hickling's overall vision.
Ultimately, with a film such as this, the question must be asked: is the use of such dark and frequently grotesque images an honest expression of a sincerely held artistic vision or is it intended merely to disturb and offend complacent audiences? With Hickling it is clear both from this individual film and the other two parts of the trilogy ("Little Gay Boy" and "Where Horses Go to Die") that there is a cinematic intelligence at work here that is both fearless and relentlessly sincere.
It is a matter of personal inclination whether a viewer is prepared to go all the way with Hickling on his dark adventures, but a failure of courage on the part of the viewer is in no way a reflection on the creator's accomplishment.
