Swallow (2020)
The vast majority of Swallow comes off as yet another twisted psychological thriller about a woman succumbing to insanity. But the final act reveals that it’s far deeper and more intelligent than that; it’s a portrait of a woman who incrementally realizes that she cannot, should not, live up to the ideal of perfection she has been conditioned to strive for. In its own offbeat way, it’s one of the year’s most empowering films. There’s no denying that specific audiences will not respond to it, in part because it depicts disturbing behaviors, but more so because it reveals their root causes and shows what happens when the main character does more than merely confront them. In response to said audiences, I can only say that no one is forcing you to agree, or even to watch at all. There are plenty of other cinematic options for you.
The main character is Hunter (Haley Bennett), a young woman of no particular distinction who has married into a wealthy family. Per the standards of Western culture, she believes that being married and creating a perfect household will make her happy. Several early scenes show her doing everything she can to live up to this mass delusion; she keeps her husband’s modern, secluded riverside mansion immaculately clean, she slaves over meals that are both perfectly cooked and professionally presented, and she goes out of her way to make herself look attractive. Albeit, she strives for the latter so obsessively that, at times, it crosses into a grotesque parody of the 1950s American housewife – a June Cleaver-type who literally vacuums in heels and a fancy dress, sporting perfectly-styled blonde hair that she adjusts with the same constant frequency as Mike Myers’ Linda Richman character.
Her husband Richie (Austin Stowell), next in line as CEO for a Manhattan corporation currently run by his father (David Rasche), is the type who will sing her praises at dinner parties and public gatherings but privately shows no interest in her whatsoever. The same can be said of his parents; anything she says – or, to be more accurate, is pressured into saying – may initially be encouraged, but they will invariably interrupt her immediately and change the subject to make it about themselves. His mother (Elizabeth Marvel) is expert at sideswiping Hunter’s thoughts and feelings in order to make small but emotionally devastating criticisms about how she handles herself. Richie and his family, being affluent and presumably well-connected, are only interested in two things: (1) Their own affluence; (2) securing their legacy.
Very early on, Hunter discovers she’s pregnant. Richie and his family are, of course, elated; his father makes it a point to declare her baby the future CEO of his company, and his mother, a paragon of unasked-for advice and non-constructive criticism, becomes even more overbearing. As Hunter’s pregnancy advances, her veneer gradually cracks, coinciding with an uncontrollable urge to swallow foreign objects. It starts in secret with a marble, which passes through her system harmlessly. But her second object, a pushpin, paves the way for even more dangerous objects. Needless to say, they cannot pass through her system without causing serious damage – or without Richie and his family noticing. Before this discovery is made, Hunter washes off the passed objects and lines them up neatly on her bedside vanity. In real life, the compulsion to ingest foreign objects is called pica. In this movie, it serves as an outlet for Hunter’s long-repressed emotional traumas, none of which I will reveal. Self-destructive though it may be, she has finally found something she can be in control of.
Her husband and in-laws alone make it clear why she feels so out of control, so smothered. But her issues run far deeper than that. She will eventually, with great reluctance, reveal this to her therapist (Zabryna Guevara) – who was not only forced on her by her father-in-law, but also proves that the Almighty Dollar can be far more powerful than a true calling to provide serious help. Hunter is degraded even further when Richie’s family hires an expatriate Syrian (Laith Nakli) to watch her every move, as if she was a mental patient. This was done, it should be noted, because Richie is too busy keeping the family legacy going to bother with taking care of his wife. God forbid anyone consider her feelings, or even stop long enough to simply listen to what she has to say.
Psychological thrillers are often very entertaining. But they tend to lack protagonists with any real depth, and the plotlines are generally more about technique and shock value. Swallow has more ambition than that. It actually has something to say, not just about the futility of aiming for perfection, but also about the dangers of forcing people, women especially, to put their own wants and desires aside for everyone else’s sake. It also addresses the guilt we’re made to feel over things that aren’t our fault. And what of the final scenes? Let’s just say that, on a base ideological level, there are those audiences who will not appreciate them. But that too is the point of this film: Your personal morals may not reflect those of others, but that doesn’t give you the right to force them down anyone’s throat. Yes, there is a political slant to this film. Deal with it.
