THE STORY – At a sports boarding school, talented young boxer Camille narrowly survives a fatal accident, saved by his best friend Matteo. After a swift recovery, an inexplicable pain gradually takes hold of him, threatening his dreams of greatness and his relationship with the team.
THE CAST – Samuel Kircher, Jean-Baptiste Durand & Faycal Anaflous
THE TEAM – Valery Carnoy (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 92 Minutes
Much can be said of the machismo hermetically sealed to a fight. And, with the rise of alt-right social media cultures that promote leadership, strength, assertation and courage as paramount to being an alpha male, boxing, MMA and wrestling are hence erected as the manliest sports of them all. It’s these same digital cultures and perspectives that are not only shaping tomorrow’s men and athletes, but the boys of Valery Carnoy’s feature length directorial debut “Wild Foxes.”
Set in a sports boarding college “Wild Foxes” sees Camille (Samuel Kircher), a boxing prodigy, survive a life altering accident that affects his confidence in the ring. Where most stories of this ilk are intent on the comeback, “Wild Foxes” stresses the anxiety around an inability to comeback. Despite his every effort Camille’s pain worsens inexplicably, much to the dismay of his friends and coach Bogdan (Jean-Baptiste Durand). The college – a cold, grim and uninviting location brimming with browning, endless hallways characterized by sharp, filtered rays of light – becomes the centerpiece to Camille’s shadow-soaked anxieties. In surmising the plot Carnoy explains, “In the ring and in a man’s world, there’s no room for weakness,” describing a plot in which both in and out the ring become homogenous. Where the ropes begin and end is up for debate. It’s these finer lines that “Wild Foxes” skews, which detail an invisible conflict – fathers and men.
Between these lines are tense conversations shared between the boys about their fathers. Camille’s best friend Matteo (Faycal Anaflous) goes so far as to mention a song his father listened to. “I once saw my dad cry listening to this in the car,” he explains. Whereas Camille fearfully reflects on his dad branding the letter “R” into his knee. Anaflous delivers any line that threatens to deepen his character with a commanding discomfort, a careful juxtaposition to Kircher’s careful play of wannabe virility and scared childishness. This conflict in perspective that’s rooted in a regard for their fathers – be it pity or fear – is what drives a wedge between Camille and his cohort of faceless goons who wear their masculinity as tightly to their chest as their washboard abs.
The same depth can’t be found in the film’s surface, however, where at every turn it demonstrates itself to be little more than cinematic shadowboxing, smacking its way through the sports genre’s greatest hits – the punches hitting harder outside the ring than they do in it, the antagonists are recklessly cocky, the protagonist experiencing a career-ending injury and, in the midst of the most important fight of the season, he gives up – incapacitating Carnoy’s desires, leaving them domesticated. Camille’s softest moments come during his leaving the school grounds to feed a pack of woodland foxes. The luscious green scenery aids in providing respite from cold corridors and piss-stained mattresses, and Carnoy’s restraint in permitting these scenes to breathe helps the screenplay outmaneuver even its worst instincts. These foxes, much like Camille, are misunderstood, only seen through the blades of their fangs.
Whilst much can be said of the machismo fused to every jab, dodge, and swing that cinematographer Arnued Guez paints like a dance, “Wild Foxes” doesn’t have the gusto to say it. TikTok-framed, shirtless locker room sequences counsel these themes. However, Camille’s own cohort of wild foxes aren’t enough to sell Carnoy’s best metaphors. In leaving these as clues between fine lines, they threaten to be too ambiguous and, as a result, the film – much like the woodland creatures – lacks bite.
