Hippopotamus

Edward A. Palmer’s 2018 “Hippopotamus” is a deeply unsettling, dialogue-driven psychological drama that traps, both its protagonist and the audience in a confined space of unsettling intimacy. 

From the opening moments, we, along with the kidnapped Ruby (Ingvild Deila), are introduced to her past not through memory but through the voice of an unseen man.

His voice, at first an omniscient, god-like narration, gradually materializes into Thomas Alcroft (Stuart Mortimer), the architect of her captivity. What follows is a slow-burning psychological game where words become the primary weapon, and love - the idealized, manipulated version of it - is both the goal and the battleground.

The film operates almost entirely on the interplay between these two characters, making its dialogue - with a focus on Thomas’s monologues - its driving force. His relentless repetition of Ruby’s past and his "survival rules are acting as a form of psychological erosion, not only on Ruby but on the audience as well.

The result is a suffocating sense of entrapment, a cinematic experience that forces the viewer to sit with the weight of manipulation, doubt, and shifting realities.

Set predominantly in a single indoor location, “Hippopotamus” leans heavily on its performances, editing, and cinematography to maintain engagement. Fortunately, it excels in all three. 

Both Deila and Mortimer deliver gripping performances, creating a complex, uneasy chemistry that keeps us invested. The cinematography enhances this dynamic - clinical, almost sterile lighting during the day contrasts with eerie red hues at night, evoking a juxtaposition between purity and danger, sanity and madness.

The visual language of the film subtly reinforces its themes: is this a place of healing or imprisonment? Is Thomas a saviour or a captor? The film deliberately blurs these lines, compelling the audience to wrestle with its moral ambiguities.

While “Hippopotamus” is not overtly violent, the psychological intensity acts as its own form of brutality. The film is a slow-burn experience that might test the patience of some viewers.

The revelations unfold methodically, and while they remain intriguing, they also risk predictability. However, even as the story takes unexpected turns, it never loses its emotional weight. 

The ending carries a sadness that lingers a tragedy, wrapped in the faintest glimmer of hope, or perhaps just another layer of delusion.

Yet, for all its strengths, “Hippopotamus” doesn’t fully immerse us in its characters on a deeper emotional level. We watch Ruby’s torment, but we don’t feel it as profoundly as we should. 

Thomas is a captivating yet somewhat elusive character, more of a concept than a fully developed individual. As a result, the film can sometimes feel more like an intellectual exercise than an emotional experience.

That said, “Hippopotamus” remains an intriguing and thought-provoking piece that explores themes of love, trauma, and how our reality can be shaped, or shattered by another person’s will. It may not appeal to everyone, particularly those who prefer action over introspection.

However, for those interested in psychological manipulation, the dark corners of the mind, and the fine line between salvation and destruction, “Hippopotamus” is an experience worth engaging in.