Await Further Instructions is an epically bleak 2018 film from director Johnny Kervorkian, telling the harrowing tale of an English family who wake up on Christmas morning to find the house cocooned in a mysterious black goo and the TVs all broadcasting a creepy message – “Stay inside and await further instructions.”
It is an absolutely sensational set-up but, sadly, one that the film can’t quite find a satisfying conclusion for. It reminds me a lot of TV’s Lost, another tale that hinged on a really idiosyncratic premise that seemd to get away from the showrunners. Points for trying, but this does tend to feel like an extended Black Mirror episode that lacks Charlie Brooker’s focus and razor-sharp satirical edge.
It’s a really grim movie, one that feels like a damning indictment of British post-Brexit culture. It’s heavy stuff, but all feels a bit daft, suffering from having characters who come across as so broad that very little of what they say or do feels genuine.
Twenty-something Nick (Sam Gittins) hasn’t been home for years but pays a visit for the holidays with new girlfriend, NHS worker Annji (Neerja Naik). Shock, horror – she’s Asian, which causes some discomfort for Nick’s incredibly conservative dad Tony (Grant Masters), mum Beth (Abigail Cruttenden) and pissed-off, racist grandad (David Bradley). Nick’s pregnant, mouthy sister Kate (Holly Weston) and her dim partner Scott (Kris Saddler) are also visiting and seem itching to take digs and start arguments just for the sake of it. Feels like a typical British family Christmas.
There’s not much in the way of characterisation for poor Anjji, other than having to constantly stick up for herself in the face of the family’s regular and senseless racist comments. Grandad prattles on about terrorism and how much better life was “before we started letting all them in”. Problem is, his own son Tony keeps hinting at an unhappy childhood that led to him being an uptight stick-in-the-mud, indicating Grandad is pining for a ‘Golden Age’ Britain that likely never existed.
Thoroughly miffed, Nick and Anjji plan to sneak off without saying goodbye on Christmas but find themselves imprisoned by the aforementioned black slime. Things get mental pretty quick, with the clan completely cut off from the outside world – no internet, no radio, no phones, just intermittent, random commands that appear on the TV screen, that appear to be from the government, but who really knows? Some interesting themes are explored – in these circumstances, would we blindly obey everything the TV instructs us to do? Soon the family are cleaning themselves with bleach, not eating anything and arguing over whether to inject the ‘vaccine’ that has appeared from the chimney.
Fair play to them, the film is remarkably prescient – fast-forward to 2020/21 where, as never before, we’re being asked to totally and blindly trust all that the news asks us to do, right down to the vaccine we’re being told will be our salvation. The filmmakers couldn’t possibly have guessed that a global pandemic was on the way and this one seems to be more interested in making a Brexit-related point about misinformation, blind trust and xenophobia fuelling our decisions. There’s definitely something salient in here about not trusting everything you see on TV or online. It’s no coincidence that when the shit hits the fan, Anjji – a trained healthcare professional with the most useful skillset of them all – has already been ‘exiled’ from the family and unable to help just when they need her the most.
Trouble is, the message feels muddled and doesn’t quite pack the same wallop it might have done when (SPOILER!) the antagonist turns out to be something otherworldly and inhuman. It’s all very gripping right up to the point the plot devolves into full-on sci-fi schlock and it's not clear what the moral is, when even the story’s most tolerant and forward-thinking characters are also made to suffer.
Despite admiring a lot about this one, I can’t help but roll my eyes a number of times throughout. Nick’s family are all such monstrous buffoons, I’m left wondering why he came home at all. I also refuse to swallow that a father would take a stanley blade to his son’s face, just because the telly hinted he might be a spy. That’s not very Christmassy.
Watching this is quite diverting, but also reminds me of endless Facebook posts from ‘anti-mask/anti-vaxxers’ urging you to distrust the official health advice coming from above. Problem is, these people - who would likely adore this movie - don’t really offer a viable alternative, other than noisy paranoia. I’m definitely all for doing away with outdated, bigoted agendas, but would prefer it if allegorical films like this one could offer more of an angle on how we move forward, rather than implying we’re all doomed. My suggestion? Watch more Christmas movies - but maybe just the nice ones, rather than bleak fear-mongering ones like this one.
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