‘Haar’: London Review

Dir/scr/cine: Ben Hecking. UK, 2023, 83mins

‘Haar’ is the word for a cold Scottish sea fog, although Ben Hecking’s appealing second feature is shot in Budapest, where a TV production manager named Jef (Kate Kennedy) is spending her last day tying up loose ends. The film is not cold either, despite being set in a bitter January: its painstaking realisation in the rare Super8 format is pleasingly fuzzy. Haar refers to Jef’s condition as she reaches a crisis point in what has been an emotionally shut-off existence. Small, but seductive, this film is a sweet reminder of the power of small crews and a passion for craft.

A sweet reminder of the power of small crews and a passion for craft

Hecking, also serving as cinematographer, has set himself a challenge in filming this self-penned day-in-the-life essay in Super8, or DS-8 to be more precise. He embraces all the options that affords, marrying its quirks and limitations to Haar’s emotional beats together with editor Callum Read (flares, scratches and editing marks are embraced.) Actor Kate Kennedy, who helped develop the role of Jef, makes an impact, alongside sound designer Alasdair Reid’s innovative work. There are not many more names on the credits of Haar, but those looking for a feminine side to recent UK work like Mark Jenkin’s Bait, or the 70s-inspired technical elements of Peter Strickland’s films, will be enticed. 

Hecking’s film has a New Wave feel, helped by Jacques Brel’s closing track ‘Jef’ – not to mention that Jef is the name of Alain Delon’s character in Le Samourai.  Here, though, Jef is so-named because her father wanted a boy, and her troubled relationship with him forms the bedrock of the film, although we never see or hear him. 

As we meet her, Jef is busy closing up the Budapest soundstages used by the TV show ‘Time Travelling Vampire Pirates’: she is always on the phone, multi-tasking, brisk, competent. She is professionally friendly and efficient, but operating at a deliberate emotional remove. She sees that dad is calling her, but does not pick up – later, she answers her mother to be told that he has suffered three heart attacks in rapid succession. “I can come back…” offers Jef, haltingly.

Jef is attractive despite – or perhaps because of – that icy sliver of distance that is often to be found in those whose job requires friendliness on a professional basis. (Conveying this is a feat newcomer Kennedy carries off well.) But it is going to be a difficult day for her. Jef’s flight out of Hungary has been cancelled, and her lover (she has been sleeping with the talent) has left behind a few things for her to deal with: she is much keener on the rabbit than she is on the fancy ring in his apartment. Phone sex is followed by a party and an encounter with a former lover (Fehinti Balogun) but the cracks – or the Haar – are appearing in Jef’s forward-facing facade.

When she starts to faint, and bad news from home brings on a dark night of the soul, Jef is helped by her Romanian driver (Balazs Czukor) – someone she had previously dismissed and who is more than he appears. Although it is clear from Kennedy’s performance that Jef is unlikely to change, it’s an experience to watch her fumble her way through to a new dawn of a new day, but as the same old Jef. Between Kennedy and Hecking, they havee created a character who seems very much familiar but also new and of the moment. Presenting this in the flickering Super8 mode is a lovely juxtaposition which makes the experiment work.

This is Hecking’s second film after Provenance, a story of a newly-minted expat couple in France, so the outsider perspective is clearly where he feels at home. Although it is possibly even smaller-scale, Haar is a flexing of muscles from a young team. Whatever it took – time, sweat and tears undoubtedly – to tame the Super8 was worth it. The financial rewards for this kind of dedication may be slight but, when the film is seen, it will truly be seen for the labour of love that it is.