Fantasia 2024 Film Review - Steppenwolf (2024)

Steppenwolf is an unrelentingly violent neo-Western from Kazakhstan channels the animalistic element of Hesse’s infamous counterculture novel to mirror the current madness enveloping our world.

Tamara seeks her kidnapped son Timka in a hostile environment where life isn’t just cheap, it’s been slashed to rock bottom prices. Surrounded by riots, child organ trafficking, and faction-led skirmishes she enlists the help of a ruthless psychopath called Brajyuk.

Traumatised into a gibbering, giggling husk, Tamara becomes trapped in a savage cycle of cold-blooded murder and tortuous intimidation as her evil ally uses her as live bait in a savage revenge mission of his own.

Adilkhan Yerzhanov‘s bleak and gritty action picture throws two lost souls together in a maelstrom of grief, despair, and abject nihilism. It’s hard to think of any other movie that features such levels of casual barbarity and senseless killing. Indeed, there is so much on show that the viewer eventually becomes as desensitized as its main catalyst, nasty murder machine Brajyuk—an inhuman nut case, whose day job entails extracting confessions with the persuasion of a sharp-bladed pedestal fan.

Steppenwolf plays out as a minimalistic ‘road movie’ punctured by staccato bursts of low-key slayings from its morally bankrupt anti-hero. He can’t seem to go five minutes without feeling compelled to pump a round or two into someone or something. Meanwhile, his travel companion responds to his cruel slaps and punches with smiles and chortles, the reactions of a woman with an unshakable muscle memory for habitual abuse. At one juncture she is reduced to nothing more than a mobile cigarette holder as her new mistreater mows down hapless fodder.

Considering events in Ukraine and Gaza Yerzhanov‘s picture is a fair reflection of a troubled global society squirming in the grip of life-tearing conflict. However, it’s hard to perceive such a spiteful film as an anti-violence piece, metaphorically, or otherwise. At times, the slaughter is so wanton and gleeful the film slips into Pythonesque parody.

That being said, the spritely pace, ravishing desert photography, and fantastic central performances keep things bizarrely entertaining as the filmmakers wring out every ounce of bloodshed from its modest budget. On top of this, there are tons of surreal moments with strange character interactions, stoically weird dialogue, and mysterious hand signals. That last of these examples proves especially fascinating yet ultimately unexplained.

Berik Aitzhanov is a force of nature as the lunatic in love heart shades, Brajyuk. He twitches and cackles from murder to murder projecting the terrifying confidence of a man just as happy crushing extremities with a claw hammer as he is blindsiding a convoy with a rocket launcher.

When we do get a tangible glimpse into the darkness that shapes Brajyuk, Aitzhanov delivers an astonishing monologue that stutters and falters with all the tragic authenticity of a man who has seen everything he loved reduced to smouldering ashes and subsequently believes that ‘good is not necessary’. The final embodiment of disconnected despair of which Hesse wrote – “I am in truth the Steppenwolf that I often call myself; that beast astray that finds neither home nor joy nor nourishment in a world that is strange and incomprehensible to him.”

Anna Starchenko is also superb as the beleaguered Tamara. A woman blinkered by obsession and pain whose lack of self-preservation and bumbling demeanour mask deadly agendas of her own. She is ively content to be used as a conduit for mayhem, during one firefight, her sunglasses-adorned face is used as a reflection point to locate a rogue sniper, but by the end of the movie, you will know exactly why. It’s a stunning portrayal infused with intense emotional control and nuanced physicality.

Steppenwolf is a toxic feel-bad revenge flick that enthrals and appals equally, a stark tantrum of a movie that bristles with anger and technical excellence.