The Axe Forgets

“The tree remembers what the axe forgets”… so goes an ancient African proverb that decries those who cause pain and destruction but move on and forget as though their actions leave no stain. As John Christopher’s short The Axe Forgets shows, some acts are impossible to run from.

In 1888, James S. Jameson (Harry Butler) has recently returned to Ireland from an expedition in the Congo. As heir to the Jameson whiskey fortune, he lives a life of indulgence in a grand manor served by his butler (Bosco Hogan) and partner Kate (Aine Collier). But James’ actions in Africa in service of a colonialist cause have left him with trauma that cannot be contained, and karmic hauntings plague his home life.

The Axe Forgets shines a fascinating light on the Irish role in empire. With a protagonist baring the name of an iconic Irish export, it implicitly links the role of Irish elite to the subjugation and terror of colonialism, even as part of a subjugated and colonialised country. James S. Jameson is a willing participant in the brutalisation of those he deems beneath him. Whilst it is not explicitly stated, anyone with an appreciation of history will know that British attitudes to the Irish were not far from Jameson’s attitude to the Congolese. It is an uncomfortable, confronting film in this context – one that does not batter its audience over the head with its themes but asks them to reflect on them, especially when Jameson loses his family, respectability and moral centre.

Gothic horror is the framing through which Jameson’s torment is explored. Visions in the night turn into shadows in his home, and sharp jump shocks will catch the viewer out as much as the protagonist. However these visions are not of supernatural beasts or masked killers, but mainly of Jameson’s own memories or off innocent people who were unlucky enough to come across him. A representation of PTSD of sorts, but in the form of an earned curse, or ghosts that now haunt the lavishness he has retreated to. Jameson himself is a villain, but colonialism is the monster, and the ‘rewards’ of riches and status can’t free him from its jaws anymore than those he has terrorised in its service.

Harry Butler’s leading performance is piercing. The impenetrable stoicism of empirical upper classes sheds away as his own trauma makes him its vessel. Butler embodies a man unequipped to deal with the haunting he is now cursed with, through pulsating rants that drive away his wife or vigorous, disturbing handwashing in a river to try and clean never-ending blood away (a heavy-handed visual metaphor if there ever was one).

History and horror fans alike will find An Axe Forgets fascinating. Its original examination of the after-effects of colonialism make for discomforting but unforgettable viewing, and complex questions it asks of its audience on the emotional level elevate it to a special experience.