Censor movie review & film summary (2021)

“Male inadequacy; revenge catharsis” replies Enid with a cheeky smile. Maybe she’s answered this one before, if only in her head.

Anne persists: “Doesn’t that bother you?”

But Enid isn’t so easily understood, not yet anyway. “Just focusing on getting it right,” she insists. “Don’t even think about anything else.”

“Censor” inevitably becomes a trite, but moody exploration of Enid’s repressed feeling, mostly about Nina, but also her job. Enid looks everywhere for clues, first at a local video store—operated by an understandably leery clerk—and then with North’s proudly unsavory producer Doug Smart (Michael Smiley). The answers that she and her creators uncover aren’t exactly groundbreaking, but they don’t need to be; the constant threat of seeing something forbidden is still palpable and thrilling.

So while Enid’s investigation never goes anywhere noteworthy, “Censor” still fosters an increasingly desperate, anxiety-inducing effect. Parts of the movie were shot on film (35mm and 8mm) as well as video, and that’s part of the movie’s charm. But really, the best thing about Enid, as a symbol and a character, is that she never seems to get anywhere.

Enid’s a cliché of uptight conservativism, as we can tell from her schoolmarm appearance. She wears her hair in a bun. Her aviator-sized eyeglasses are fastened to her neck by a gold chain. Her skin is half-and-half alabaster. She lives to drag viewers deeper into her increasingly frustrated quest for satisfaction. “Censor” is, in that sense, a success, if only because it winds you up, and leaves you wanting a lot more where it came from. There are a number of compelling books about the Video Nasty scare—two immediately come to mind: Kate Egan’s Trash or Treasure and James Simpson’s Video Nasty Mayhem—but “Censor” works, too.

Now playing in theaters and available on demand on June 18.