Tom at the Farm is the latest film by Québécois director Xavier Dolan, a stifling psychological thriller about repression and release.

When Tom visits the family farm of his boyfriend Guillaume, recently killed in an unexplained accident, he finds a grieving mother, unaware of her son’s sexuality, and a sadistic brother determined to keep it from her. The result is a horrific anti-lovestory of grief and violence.

Dolan introduces Guillame’s brother, Francis, as a figure in the dark, a warning not to upset the balance of their lives, a suffocating hand. This terrifyingly featureless figure is a nod to the horror genre, and foreshadows the more unsettling reality that follows. The relationship that forms between Tom and Francis is one of co-dependency and desperation, two figures trapped and voiceless in an isolated environment. Dolan builds these characters on foundations of spoken lies and hidden truths, and a fetishistic yearning for feeling and belonging.

Projections of self-loathing, expressions of repressed feelings, and attempts to love in the wake of loss are scattered through the film, and the psychological power play that results leaves us to wonder who’s talking to whom and what is going unspoken. Drug-fuelled tangos, saliva exchanged between split lips, a man grabbed by the throat whispers “harder” and there seems like there is no way out. This film is an exploration of grief, grief for those we’ve lost and for our hidden selves. It’s an exploration of our attempts to fill the void left behind, to feel at any cost, and it is done beautifully.

Death is the catalyst that brings these people together into a makeshift family of repression and regret. A mother no longer in control, a son whose love is vicious, and now Tom, forced to question the price he will pay for human connection. Tom is motivated by his longing to feel something real in the wake of his loss. Each morning, in an unfamiliar bed, Tom wakes up under a car poster captioned ‘Feel Real’. What this actually means is explored throughout the film, leaving us to question where the line between reality and role-playing actually lies.

This film has a lot of people to thank for its intricacy and potency. A subtle and intimate ensemble cast, André Turpin’s handsomely restrained cinematography, and Michel Marc Bouchard, the writer behind the original play. But it is Xavier Dolan that brings it together so succinctly. Dolan is writer, director, producer, editor, costume designer and actor here and the result is something rare and impressive. A golden-haired prince of the cornfields, Xavier Dolan is my new idol.

4½/5 stars