‘The Face of Horror’ Review: Anna Biller’s Sophomore Feature Delights

It’s hard to think of many independent filmmakers who emerged from their first feature with a voice as fully developed as Anna Biller‘s. Her 2016 debut “The Love Witch” boasted the Technicolor horror aesthetics of a Corman-Poe movie and the self-aware gender politics of a great Lana Del Rey song, signaling the arrival of an exciting new auteur. Biller, who wrote, directed, edited, and scored the film, seemed equally fascinated by the inexplicable magic powers that come with femininity and the double standards that society places on anyone bold enough to use them. Her close collaboration with cinematographer M. David Mullen ensured that the recreations of midcentury filmmaking techniques were accurate enough not to feel gimmicky, leaving “The Love Witch” feeling like a lost relic of a bygone era that just happened to be ahead of its time on a few social issues.

It’s taken a decade for Biller to return to feature filmmaking, but rest assured that her voice remains as sharp and distinct as ever. “The Face of Horror” plays like a lost Canterbury Tale, using a medieval backdrop to tell a story of selfishness, hedonism, and body dysmorphia that likely would have played like an astute analysis of dating dynamics at any point in human history. And unsurprisingly, it’s stunning to look at.

When we meet Eleanor (Kristine Froseth) and Beatrice (Ellie Bamber), the beautiful maidens are coveted by every knight in their English kingdom. Edward (Jonah Hauer-King) and Richard (Leo Suter) are so infatuated with the sisters that they’ll stop at nothing to get with them — even if it means killing the girls’ father, then showing up at the castle offering to avenge his death and protect them from this mysterious murderer in exchange for their hands in marriage.

The girls reluctantly acquiesce… and believe it or not, it’s not even the worst thing these men do in “The Face of Horror!” Fast forward to a year later, and Eleanor is increasingly annoyed that Edward keeps putting off her request to find her father’s killer — and with the energy of a husband insisting he’ll clean the gutters next weekend. Edward is so frustrated by what he perceives as a lack of gratitude that he runs off and finds a side chick in another kingdom. He begins plotting elaborate ways to get Eleanor out of his life, but giving her a dangerous makeup solution that leaves her macabrely disfigured creates far more problems than it solves. It isn’t long before he’s haunted by a ghost that looks eerily like the woman he fell in love with… but can’t be her, because she’s ugly now.

Beyond the obvious visual advantages — don’t even pretend you’re not interested in seeing Biller and her collaborators stage a series of castles and royal feasts with princesses and jesters wearing every color of the rainbow — the medieval setting is an excellent thematic match for the filmmaker’s narrative sensibilities. While her messages are often quite nuanced, nobody would ever accuse her of being subtle about delivering them. But you’d probably say the same thing about Geoffrey Chaucer, who spilled endless amounts of ink musing about what it means to be a chivalrous knight. Biller’s script takes a similar approach, often pausing the plot as characters embark on tangents about the paradoxes of womanhood.

A different style of movie might suffer from the frequent breaks in the action, but “The Face of Horror” embraces the notion that the journey matters just as much as the destination. Stopping to watch a court jester perform a bizarre period musical number or a princess stiffly opine about men’s fickle attitudes towards beauty is all part of the fun. Mullen’s images pop out of the screen with the same storybook composition and bright color palette that made “The Love Witch” so addictive, and the mise-en-scene cheekily points more toward a 1950s King Arthur movie than any real recreation of medieval life. Biller appears to be working with a much larger budget than she did for “The Love Witch,” and her mix of practical visuals and gender studies musings should be a treat for anyone already worried about waiting another ten years for her next film.