Pascal Laugier's Martyrs is one of the most genuinely disturbing films of the last decade, a peculiar mix of genres from revenge thriller to torture porn that shocks equally for its graphic content and main concept.
The inevitable American remake, helmed by Kevin and Michael Goetz, quickly announces that it will recreate scenes from the original with minor changes (i.e. the opening shot with a little girl running away), however, there's something off right from the moment the respective authorities seem more interested in the paranormal angle of the protagonist's case rather than the criminal/traumatic.
Having the French film in mind, it's instantly frustrating to just hear the word "monster", as Laugier's vision never inclined to that direction. But as the remake nevertheless continues to respect key points of the original, for moments the main problem has nothing to do with concept but rather with actual filmmaking; the incredible work of the main actresses from the 2008 version (including the children) -- that always communicated the pain the characters were going through -- is nowhere near as effective here. Both the tortured girl (Lucie) and her best friend (Anna) act and look way too normal, as if the dark past involving the former never happened.
This is the first major failure of 2016's Martyrs: the inability to reprise, let alone add something new, the complex and powerful relationship between the two protagonists, that in Laugier's film included desire, mistrust, and certainly love. Sure, the remake also features a (now unsurprising) violent revenge act in the first half, but there's an important lack of disturbing material; it has nothing to do with the dirt, the blood, the sweat, and the agony that we experienced in the first film.
Take, for instance, that the memorable sequence with the moribund villain (the mother) being helped secretly by Anna is solved in few seconds, without any of the dramatic weight of such a vital moment in the story. This new script rushes certain aspects and is not as greatly detailed as Laugier's. (Where's the background of the "monster" that haunts Lucie, especially for the people who haven't seen the original?).
In general, the violence is castrated to the point that the minor (yet unforgettable) character of the first present-day "victim" we get to see -- yes, the agonizing woman with the metal torture helmet -- is changed for an unconvincing, ultimately irrelevant, little girl. Indeed, the Goetz brothers do take some major liberties with the piece, which leads to their second failure. When trying to add their very own notions, but still stick to the key plot points of the original, the remake becomes an absolute mess.
For moments it's a whole different movie, but the title remains Martyrs, therefore the martyrdom idea must appear at some point. The second half of the original film was, on the surface, simply a series of "torture porn" scenes; however there was much more to it, not just the organized society seeking for the martyr who could tell them an insight about the after life, but also the fact that Annie was finally experiencing/comprehending what her friend went through as a child, even ironically, since a couple of moments hinted that Annie also thought Lucie was lying.
The Goetzs most daring decision is definitely changing the entire second act, including the role of Lucie, Annie and even the victim found at the family's home. Some movements are harmless, even welcomed as a reinterpretation, i.e. the criminal organization portrayed closer to a loud religious cult, hence having images like a burning "martyr" or the Jesus Christ pose, though others completely senseless; like the woman who has been lost for 10 years all of a sudden becoming the "chosen one" for the well organized group.
If the original film proved something with its second half, after such a messy and unpredictable beginning, was that a restrained, clear concept -- even the torturers were only a family of two, with defined roles -- can be as shocking as the image of a girl with no skin. The remake, on the contrary, goes for the bigger approach (more characters and conflicts), which sadly leads to meaningful lines lost in the noise, few truly perturbing/iconic images, and even typical Hollywood heroic comebacks.