The Killing of a Sacred Deer: Sacrifice to Satan

I've heard about it for a long time, and today I finally watched it. The horror lies entirely in the dark corners of human nature, with many aspects worth contemplating.

Let's briefly outline the plot of the movie. A cardiovascular surgeon father, an ophthalmologist mother, a typical middle-class family. Well-off, with two children, they appear to be a loving and perfect family. A medical accident during surgery leads to the death of a patient. The father, who performed the surgery, harbors guilt due to pre-operative alcohol consumption. In private, he contacts the sixteen-year-old son of the deceased patient. The boy acknowledges the father's well-intentioned actions, but after an uncertain interaction, he communicates to them: that the issue remains unresolved, and retribution is inevitable. He asserts that one member of their family will unquestionably pay with their life for what happened to his father.

Like a curse, the young son inexplicably falls ill first, followed by the daughter. Both show identical symptoms: refusal to eat or drink, paralysis of the lower limbs, and on the verge of death. All medical tests show normal results, and renowned doctors come for consultations, but to no avail. At this point, the boy appears, issuing a death ultimatum. Time is running out, a choice must be made immediately, and one person must be killed. The father, furious, kidnaps the boy, intending to end him and resolve the situation. The boy, with a chilling stare, sternly says, "Kill me, and you'll lose your whole family. I hope you're not stupid."

The father loves his daughter, and the mother loves her son. The palms of their hands are full of flesh. Except for the father, one of the remaining three must die. Who should die? Or, who wants to die?

This is a three-in-one choice, but not a simple multiple-choice question. Beneath the image of a domineering and authoritarian father lies indecision and weakness; he avoids and fears making a choice. Faced with a medical accident, the surgeon and anesthetist blame each other, revealing each other's shortcomings with similar excuses. The father favors the daughter, sweet-talking and pleasing her, understanding the art of deliberate flattery. The relationship between father and son is a strange mix of being enemies, friends, mentors, and fathers—complex and not without love for the son but with a bias towards him. Comparatively, the mother appreciates the son's straightforwardness and dislikes the daughter's scheming. The imbalance in gender dynamics becomes more pronounced later on.

Strong religious symbolism. "The Killing of a Sacred Deer" draws from a segment of the ancient Greek myth of the Trojan War. In the myth, the commander of the Greek forces kills a sacred deer belonging to a goddess and, as atonement, must sacrifice his daughter. The daughter's selfless sacrifice eventually moves the goddess, and she is mercifully saved. However, in the movie, this sacrifice is unavoidable. Considering the final outcome, the sacred deer represents the son, the purest and most selfless character, but also the weakest and most easily sacrificed. The mother wishes to save him, but being a potential victim herself, she has to cater to the father to gain sympathy. The son's death, seemingly accidental, is predetermined from the start.

The film's soundtrack is remarkably eerie. Even in calm and serene scenes, there's a disconcerting, disjointed, and melodic violin sound that lacks a discernible melody. It's as if someone is screaming, and lamenting, and it's eerie. It's different from the sudden shocks typical of horror movie soundtracks; instead, it's a lurking sense of "conspiracy." Beneath the piercing violin sounds, there's a constant feeling that an unpredictable disaster is preparing to strike, similar to the sense of impending doom in "Final Destination."

The frightening nature of hatred. In the movie, the boy uses vivid and direct action to explain the concept of "an eye for an eye." When your arm is bitten by an enemy, anyone attempting to treat or touch the wound will intensify your pain. At this moment, only when you see the same pain inflicted on your enemy, and perhaps even a piece of flesh taken from him, will your mood be relieved and pacified.

The most terrifying part of the whole film appears. If you encounter misfortune in life, "healing" is far less important than "revenge". In other words, "revenge" is the only way to "heal"— this hatred, directed at your pain when those around you can escape unharmed, transfers to you. The daughter incessantly asks the mother, seemingly out of concern, if she feels pain, numbness, or backache. Is this a caring inquiry? Clearly not. This is the self-reproach and anger of being a member of the family who should suffer, the lament of "why isn't it you." The idiom "sharing joys and sorrows together" is indeed insightful; when a group lives together, if good fortune cannot be "shared," natural separation and animosity will arise; when misfortune arrives, if suffering cannot be "shared," resentment and blame will naturally be directed at others.

The portrayal of human nature under the shadow of death. The daughter requests an MP3 player from her brother in front of him, hoping to get it after his death—a demonstration of pressure within the same category. The consistently strong-willed mother becomes submissive in front of the father, saying they can have another child, and she even wears the father's favorite black dress, ingratiating herself. The daughter deliberately tells the father to let her die, subtly implying that only the father can take her life—a psychological tactic of retreating to advance. Faced with the fear of death, the mother even kisses the boy's feet, now regarding him as a deity (in the New Testament of the Bible, there is an account of a woman kissing Jesus' feet). These are facets of human vulnerability and darkness; the instinct of self-preservation naturally leans towards survival at the expense of others.

The story may be very absurd, but its depiction of human nature is incredibly real. When the father blindfolds everyone, including himself, and rotates, firing the gun in a manner similar to "Russian roulette," the tragedy officially reaches its climax. The repeated loading of the gun, rotation, and shooting, awaiting the choice of the grim reaper. In the midst of this, there are malicious intentions, fear, panic, hidden pasts, power-play exchanges of answers, a housewife without pubic hair, a virgin whose body has not blossomed, and the tears of the sacred deer. Like the arrangement of fate, more like a long and grand ritual sacrifice ceremony dedicated to Satan.

However, no one will be given redemption.