Glasshouse review: Striking post-apocalyptic visions

Burnt-out shells of cities beneath black skies. An arid, sun and sand-blasted landscape that contains nothing but death. When it comes to post-apocalyptic depictions on screen, those are arguably the two most common treatments.  

So Glasshouse, the feature debut of South African filmmaker Kelsey Egan, co-written by Emma Lungiswa de Wet, already has something that sets it apart as dystopian sci-fi: its unconventional setting and art direction. If you want to label Glasshouse anything, perhaps the best term is “pastoral post-apocalypse.”

This is a world where characters wear 19^th Century bonnets converted into gas masks. They sing folk songs about the collapse of civilization, while manually pollinating flowers with locks of hair. Oh, and their pottering around in the garden includes dismembering the bodies of intruders to nourish their precious plants.

To be fair, this isn’t a wholesale vision of humanity’s future so much as a spotlight of one tiny, secluded haven in the chaos. Glasshouse is set after The Shred, an airborne viral dementia that has shredded the minds and memories of the world’s population, leaving people either empty shells or dangerously aggressive and untethered.

One family, guided by Adrienne Pearce’s stern matriarch, has escaped the madness by holing themselves up in an airtight Victorian glasshouse. They’ve been touched by The Shred too, but it’s nothing in comparison to the upheaval caused by the arrival of a wounded but mentally competent stranger (Hilton Pelser) from the surrounding wasteland. The stranger’s infiltration of the glasshouse unearths family secrets and strains the once close bond between sisters Bee (Jessica Alexander) and Evie (Anja Taljaard).  

Glasshouse is full of surprises, least of which is that it’s a South African production filmed at the Pearson Conservatory in Port Elizabeth, with a predominantly local cast (listen for the accents occasionally breaking through). Over the past decade or so, the country’s filmmakers have boldly entered new genre territory, exploring beyond staples like prestige drama and crowd-pleasing comedy to make everything from revenge thrillers and survival adventure to unhinged cult horror and even Westerns.

That said, to date there hasn’t been anything like Glasshouse – thematically rich dystopian sci-fi, served with a not unsubstantial dollop of arthouse horror. The film might be too quiet and claustrophobic for some, but the rewards are present, punching through the film’s dreamy malaise like its unexpected flashes of gore, violence and sex.

While its relentless sense of unease and strong performances keep you engaged, Glasshouse explores such topics as guilt, and how deeply entrenched identity is in memory, ritual and stories of the past – allowing people to be manipulated if you’re the one who remembers the truth and controls the narrative. Then there’s the polar reaction to long periods of social isolation that pandemic-era audiences should identify with – with Bee representing the desire to naively connect with anyone, and Evie turned distrustful of anyone outside her bubble.

Of course, Glasshouse isn’t cheery, but it’s memorable and thought provoking. And, like the air inside its plant-filled conservatory, it’s refreshing.

Good news, too, is that we can expect more from Egan. Glasshouse is just the first film in a three-part post-apocalyptic slate being developed by Showmax with Local Motion Pictures and Crave Pictures, with Egan directing.

After premiering at last year’s Fantasia International Film Festival in Canada, Glasshouse has been touring the global festival circuit to acclaim. As of today, the film is screening on Showmax in Africa, and select VOD services elsewhere, including Sky, iTunes, Amazon, Google, Xbox and other digital platforms in the UK.