User Reviews

Until First Light is a startlingly realized and articulate work from an incredibly unlikely place. I had the opportunity to see it at its Albertan premiere in 2018, and the film has stuck with me like few others.

The film follows a simple narrative of a man stuck in limbo, returning to his family's farm after the suicide of his brother. We are guided through the protagonist's quiet ruminations as he comes to grips with his grief and uncertainty in deciding whether to stay on this farm filled with memories or return to his detached urban life. The film has a clear respect for audience perception and patience, and its earnest presentation sidesteps the condescending pretense and disconnect that has descended like a plague on modern independent films. We see the protagonist go through mundanities such as preparations for his brothers funeral and farm errands, which the director said during the post-showing Q&A were filmed with non-actors in those respective professions. Because the film's sense of place and local color is clearly deeply understood, these sequences always feel purposeful in tone-setting and outlining the slow-paced life the protagonist is uncertain to embrace. Admittedly this slower pace may be alienating to some viewers, but if you're willing to let a film's atmosphere wash over you these sequences will feel incredibly refreshing.

The film's atmosphere is obviously hugely bolstered by director Kyle Armstrong's immaculate visual sense. After seeing this film, I was compelled to view some of Armstrong's earlier shorts such as Magnetic Reconnection, and it is clear that he has an incredible understanding of the power of lighting, color tones, and even digital manipulation. Also Armstrong's immense reverence for the Albertan landscape, highlighted by the stunning prairie shots here in Until First Light and the mesmerizing aurora borealis footage in Magnetic Reconnection, has made my home province look the best it has since Days of Heaven. There are short experimental dream interludes in this film that would make me weary if I were to read them on paper, but Armstrong's command of visual texture and flow make these sequences true showstoppers. The fact that they are perfectly placed in the film's narrative, articulating the protagonist's frustration and fear, is a true revelation. For a filmmaker with Armstrong's background in documentary and experimental film, to appropriately integrate these influences into a narrative work is the sign of a strong auteur.

The central performances serve the film incredibly well. Darren Frank's suitably stoic demeanor has an underlying nuance that seems in perfect symbiosis with the film's quiet nature. Another standout for me was Meagan McKague as the protagonist's romantic partner who is mainly seen in flashbacks. There are clear opportunities for overacting that would be pitfalls for less conscious actresses, but she has the sense to play her scenes in a lower emotional register and integrates seamlessly into the film's tone.

The only thing I found the film to suffer from were a few sequences that felt at odds with the rest of the film's naturalism, in particular the conversations involving the protagonist's mother at the dinner table, as well as the scene with the protagonist's sister near the film's end. The abstract dialogue felt like something out of a more stereotypical indie work, that I felt lacked the film's deeply felt understanding.

Overall, though, to see a new director operate in such a singular, earnest manner feels unparalleled in contemporary film. Combined with Armstrong's conceptual approach and ability to conjure such arresting imagery and atmosphere, I think we are witnessing the beginning of a major cinematic visionary. I'm incredibly excited to follow Armstrong's work in the future!

Armstrong's strength in composition, sound, aesthetics, structure and emotional candour read as the product of a veteran auteur, not the result of an assumedly very low budget and equally low level of experience. As first projects come, the restraint shown in regards to the direction of his actors, and treatment of the characters they portray, stands as a hopeful benchmark in an age where dreadfully verbose camerawork, the existence of colour, and a soundtrack comprised of kanye west and sufjan stevens equate to articulate cinema. While comparing this profoundly sensitive and remarkably constructed work to its contemporaries feels gross, the fact this ironically sits in a period of indecisiveness due to its inability to secure a distributor, while those same contemporaries receive endless funding and accolades, is noteworthily painful.

Armstrong's understanding of grief and the following struggles on the tightrope of emotional neglect versus confrontation reflect in every component of the film. The camerawork especially highlights this, for example, rarely are our characters wholly in the frame, usually cast to the corners while shot through a haze of light, shadow, or in some instances, shrouded behind a double exposure. Portraying his inability to attach himself to the present on such a visceral level is deeply effective in translating his thoughts to the viewer. Thoughts which would previously be harder to decipher given the impenetrable appearance our lead maintains throughout the film; juxtaposing the crushing pain behind his mask, communicated through visual style, with the (often) emotionless character within said visuals. The aesthetic beauty of these scenes is inexplicable, seriously some of the most gorgeous images in cinema are found within this film, the skill in regards to manipulating natural light to an almost psychedelic effect is just incomparable. Which when coupled with the sorrow behind these images makes them an overwhelmingly emotional experience. This becoming compounded even further by the expert placement of certain revelatory scenes such as the tragically formal and inhuman casket scene, various dinner sequences, a remarkably subtle yet important outburst at a grocery store, and most importantly, the way too late first spoken confrontation regarding the tragedy which took place.

As i have spent nearly the last decade of my life in close proximity to where this film is set, ive spent countless time wandering similar roads and landscapes, daydreaming of atmospheres and images based around them. Watching this was as depressing as it was cathartic, due to the films ability to somehow perfectly represent these same tones and vague abstractions i never could have never fully realized given the fact im not a genius visual magician the likes king kyle armstrong. Secondly i must add a large portion of my attraction to this film was result of the composer credit from jim o'rourke, a man who is quickly becoming one of my favourite artists of all time. The score certainly reflects the work of his ongoing steam room series however the broader instrumentation and use of strings made it particularly incredible. As well i am going to assume the guitar-based song featured part-way through the film was written by him due to its john fahey esque melancholia and composition - fahey being one of o'rourke's idols - and misanthropic lyricism.

This film truly stunned me, an overwhelmingly comprehensive technical marvel, yet equally outstanding in its subtlety and far too real articulation of grief. Modern-day masterpiece. Praying for another.