Over 10 years ago I saw my first New French Extremity film in college. I took a trip to the Family Video near my college apartment and scanned the aisles. It was the first time I was in charge of picking a movie for a movie night with some friends. Most of the people attending that evening were horror fans, so that’s the vibe I was going for. After walking around for about five minutes I saw it. The top left corner read DIMENSION EXTREME. The middle of the cover read INSIDE in thick red letter, right below that stated UNRATED. The image was someone grasping their pregnant stomach and a pair of sharp dirty scissors questionably close to her stomach. That’s the movie I picked. And that was the last time I was allowed to pick the movies for our movie nights.

Inside follows Sarah Scarangella (Alysson Paradis), a pregnant professional photographer who is still mourning the recent loss of her husband. On one unfortunate Christmas Eve, Sarah’s night is interrupted by an unknown woman (Béatrice Dalle). Not knowing who this woman is, Sarah refuses her entry. After taking a photo of this woman, and developing it, Sarah realizes she has a photo of this unknown woman from earlier in the day. Once Sarah thinks the woman is gone, she heads to bed. And that’s when all hell breaks loose. Bodies will drop, blood will flow, and babies will be birthed.

Written by Alexandre Bustillo and directed by Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo, Inside would kick off an excellent career for these two French filmmakers. Brutal, sad, and one of the bloodiest films of all time, Inside is a film that needs to be seen to be believed. Like Calvaire, what makes Inside work so well, besides the tight script and great direction, is the pacing. Instead of a prolonged leadup to a barrage of violence and gore, Inside doles its violence out like a symphony. Each act perfectly leads into the next with the precision you don’t usually see in a debut feature film. The majority of the extreme violence happens to Sarah, which puts a lot of pressure on Alysson Paradis. Paradis sells her performance like Jordan Belfort selling a pen. Her responses are brutal and heartbreaking, while still being extremely grounded.

The special effects makeup department is too vast to list and will eat up my entire word count, but words cannot describe how visceral the practical effects are. From the most minor cut from a mirror to the stairway scene, you can’t help but feel like you’re watching something you should not be watching.

If you haven’t seen the film then this next part will be a huge spoiler, but we need to talk about it. Bustillo’s script takes an unexpected turn toward the end of the film. We learn the reason La Femme is attacking Sarah is due to a car accident. Sarah caused a car accident that took the life of La Femme’s child, killing her unborn baby. La Femme wants Sarah’s baby as reparations. Towards the end of the film, one of the cops who was presumed dead (he was shot with a riot gun) wakes up. His vision is hindered by the riot gun causing him to accidentally attack Sarah instead of La Femme. This attack breaks Sarah’s water, and La Femme kills the cop. Now, Sarah is on the stairs and her baby isn’t coming out–that’s where the scissors come back into play. La Femme has to perform a C-section on Sarah with the scissors, and it is, simply put, gnarly. The film ends with La Femme looking at Sarah’s dead body as she rocks the baby.

This ending is beyond heartbreaking. La Femme’s character almost has a complete turnaround. It’s hard to tell if she’s crying because she has the baby or because she did end up killing Sarah. My personal belief is that it all became too real once she had to kill the cop. If the cop hadn’t broken her water and forced the birth, would La Femme have gone through with this at this point? It’s up to interpretation, but I believe La Femme had repented her actions by that point. That doesn’t make it any better, though.

Next to Martyrs, Inside has one of the most heartbreaking endings of any New French Extremity film. While it’s a difficult watch, it’s an excellent film to rewatch as a case study on how to write an antagonist. To boot, Sarah was La Femme’s antagonist. Sarah was the one who caused the termination of La Femme’s pregnancy–so in a way, this is a revenge film. Bustillo’s script pulls the rug out from all preconceived notions. We thought we were watching one film when in reality, we were being expertly misled by the person we thought was the narrator. It’s a bold move for a debut.

Bustillo and Maury are still going strong in the genre. Their most recent film, The Soul Eater, recently had its premiere at Fantasia Fest. Like Inside, The Soul Eater was gory and violent, while focusing on an overall story that takes precedent. It’s impressive to see bits and pieces of Inside in The Soul Eater, while also adding all the bits and pieces of lessons they’ve learned over their six previous films. Inside is, to me, the best example of New French Extremity; it’s true stomach-churning, gut-wrenching, bloody as hell terror. 

I’m someone who likes to research more than watch films. My watchlist is longer than Santa’s naughty or nice list. Throughout my years of research, a film has come up many times, but it has never really stuck on my radar. That’s when the venerable Brooklyn Horror Film Festival decided to put it on their lineup two years ago, practically revitalizing hype for one of the most underseen and underappreciated New French Extremity films of all time. Let me say, I’m upset that it took me this long to watch Calvaire.

Calvaire follows Marc Stevens (Laurent Lucas), a traveling singer on the way to his next gig. On a dark and stormy night, his van breaks down. A kind young man, Boris (Jean-Luc Couchard), just so happens to be on this isolated road looking for his dog Bella. Boris leads Marc to Mr. Bartel’s (Jackie Berroyer) Inn for the night. When Marc wakes up, he finds that Mr. Bartel has towed his van to the Inn and plans to help him get it fixed. But all is not as it seems when Mr. Bartel’s intentions go from kindly to creepy. Now, Marc must do everything he can to escape the brazingly brutal Bartel. 

Calvaire marks the first of two New French Extremity films that are technically Christmas films! And as someone who doesn’t like Christmas, that makes me happy! This film starts off very tame and unsuspecting. Marc first meets Boris, who is generally offputing and weird, but overall a nice guy. And Mr. Bartel comes off as sweet, caring, and generally innocent! This film is writer/director Fabrice Du Welz’s debut feature film, and for a first film, it’s impossible to state just how well it’s conceived. For an extreme film, the writing is stellar, the characters are well-crafted, and the pacing is brilliant. The film’s ramp-up works exceedingly well and creates an overall unassuming nature. It’s not until the cracks start to form and the ugliness starts to show that you feel the true terror of their situation.

One of the most impressive aspects of Calvaire is how reserved, but effective, the violence is. As well as to whom it happens. Horror is wrought with misogynistic violence. For a genre that’s as progressive as it says it is, it sure doesn’t shy away from harming men and torturing women. Just look at Terrifier, one of the genre’s most popular franchises. The fact that Calvaire switches up the victim and puts Marc directly in the killer’s crosshairs is impressive and refreshing. In fact, because people like Damien Leone prefer killing women, it’s stimulating to watch a man be the brunt of the violence. Interestingly, Marc is put in this predicament because Mr. Bartel is generally unwell and thinks Marc is his former wife, Gloria, who left him.

The violence here is not excessive and overly bloody, but it’s painful to watch. Seeing Marc get crucified and forcibly have his hair cut is incredibly difficult to watch. But it never feels too over the top in a way that would feel fake. Bartel’s mental break is difficult to watch, and Jackie Berroyer handles the character with extreme precision. One of the most fascinating moments of Bartel’s character is the moment when his character starts to slip, and you see the facade shattering, but Marc doesn’t. Bartel says he’s going to make a phone call, but you don’t feel like he’s making a phone call. Or when Bartel tells Marc to sing a song, and when Marc stops after a few lines, Bartel responds with, “I didn’t tell you half of my joke.” These small moments reveal how intricately crafted Bartel’s antagonist is and just how much time and effort Fabrice Du Welz put into this terrifying tale.

Calvaire is far from the most extreme and grotesque entry in the New French Extremity movement, but it’s one of the most put together. Each moment slowly builds to the next, rather than a barrage of hate and violence. This isn’t your standard gore film, it’s a well-oiled machine from a filmmaker who knows a thing or two about horror. Knowing that this is Fabrice Du Welz’s debut feature amps up my excitement to watch the rest of his films.