Bleak doesn’t cover it. Lodge Kerrigan’s 1993 feature debut puts you inside Peter Winter’s world — a man with schizophrenia surrounded by scratching, static, electronic pulses and skin-crawling unease piped directly into your skull. It doesn’t let up for a single frame.
The sound design is the film’s blunt instrument. You’re not just watching Peter unravel; you’re being dragged through the world as he experiences it, which is impressive, horrible, and about as relaxing as licking a plug socket.
I know that’s the point. But somewhere in the middle I stopped engaging with the story and started waiting for the noise to stop. Clean, Shaven is accomplished, no question. For me, though, it was less a film to get lost in than a sensory mugging with an end credit sequence.