In a Glass Cage

I hope you enjoy this review. Most writers would have called it a day by now. If I didn't love you so much (who the hell am I talking to?), I would have no qualms about leaving my canvas blank and retiring to my sleep chamber. But this website won't update itself. To tell you the truth, I'm a little under the weather. I'm in a sour mood, and I doubt that I'll feel any better after dissecting In a Glass Cage. This isn't the kind of film that will perk you up or lift your spirits. It tells the story of Klaus, a Nazi pedophile who becomes a quadriplegic as a result of a failed suicide attempt. Bummer.

There is a scene where Klaus's teenaged caretaker masturbates and ejaculates onto his face. The paralyzed pervert is helpless, what with him being in an iron lung and all. I could relate to Klaus. I felt helpless as this film shot its unpleasant load onto my sneering countenance. Glass Cage is fucking depressing. I wasn't prepared for how relentlessly bleak it was. Yes, the synopsis should have tipped me off, but those are just words. Words can't get under your skin like images can. August Underground: Mordum didn't get under my skin. Faces of Gore 2 didn't get under my skin. There is a reason why Glass Cage tapped the nerves that those "shockers" were unable to reach.

It's well-made. Agusti Villaronga's direction is outstanding. Every single set-up is abounding with atmosphere. The soft blue light that spills out over the poster permeates the film itself. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Glass Cage was shot underwater. Perhaps Villaronga groomed the visuals to compensate for the challenging script. This is a hard movie to watch. As I hinted at earlier, this isn't a weekend rental to pop in at a Halloween party. That doesn't mean you should avoid it at all costs. You probably won't watch it more than once, though.

God, this is such a fickle review. I'm in the fourth paragraph, and I haven't decided how many Z'Dar's In a Glass Cage is worth. Should I recommend it? Decisions, decisions. On one hand, this is clearly an effective mood piece that studies how children respond to sexual abuse. On the other hand, what did I get out of it? I didn't particularly enjoy hanging out with these characters for 108 minutes. The pace is too deliberate at times, and for a period drama, it has zero replay value. Then again, this flick isn't supposed to be a jolly lark. Aw, fuck it. It's about a Nazi pedophile. Do what you want.

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