From Snap’s opening shots– sepia-tinted footage of a child’s birthday is accompanied by the eeriest rendition of ‘You Are My Sunshine’ ever heard – the atmosphere is thick with tension. It’s clear some family secrets should be permanently erased from memory.
Three years after teenager Stephen (Stephen Moran) kidnapped a toddler, a documentary film crew begin to interview his mother Sandra (Aisling O’Sullivan.) A caustic woman with a piercing stare, Sandra relishes her role as the media’s favourite soulless matriarch. “I never wanted to be a mother,” she states. “Nothing personal.” But Sandra’s emotional detachment from Stephen is clearly a coping mechanism. As she despondently asks, “Five days he had that kid – and for what?”, it’s clear she doesn’t really want to know the answer. Being confused about her son’s motivations is less terrifying than knowing exactly what he’s capable of.
Punctuating Sandra’s confessions are two other narrative threads; a flashback to the five days that Stephen held the adorable Adam captive in his grandfather’s house, and another comprising almost entirely of home movies, which explores Sandra and Stephen’s relationship with her father.
As each plotline is insular and largely action-free, the emotional impact of Snap depends entirely on the actors, and each performance is mesmerising. As the unseen documentary director rewinds and freezes his footage, the complexities of O’Sullivan’s performance becomes clear. Brief flashes of longing and regret in Sandra’s eyes suggest that she is a far more emotional and damaged woman than her seemingly impenetrable veneer suggests. As Stephen, Moran is a revelation, effortlessly alternating between lovingly playing with Adam to coldly tying the toddler to a cot with a dog-leash. Though understated, his presence is terrifying in its sheer unpredictability, leaving the audience in constant fear for the fate of his young captive.
However it’s the late Mick Lally’s painfully vulnerable cameo as a frail, elderly alcoholic that truly devastates. As Sandra seduces and humiliates him, he becomes a foil for young Adam – yet another victim of this deeply damaged family.
Exhausting, distressing and completely compelling, Carmel Winters’ tense drama captivates and upsets in equal measure, making Snap one of the most disturbing family portraits you’ll ever see.