The Killing of a Sacred Deer explicitly acknowledges its influence only fleetingly. Towards the end of the film, facing a horrific choice from a vengeful god, Steven Murphy visits the school attended by his children. He asks for a report on their work, their strengths and their weaknesses. The principal acknowledges that Bob Murphy has an aptitude for maths and science, while Kim Murphy’s strengths lie in the arts and history. In particular, she impressed the school staff with a presentation on Iphigenia in Aulis. “She received an A-plus,” the principle helpfully explains.
Nevertheless, this familiar Greek tragedy hangs over The Killing of a Sacred Deer. In the film, a professional patriarch finds himself confronted with an impossible choice from a vengeful figure. Offended by Steven, the mysterious Martin Lang issues an ultimatum. Steven must choose to sacrifice one of his family members to save the other two. Three lives hang in the balance: his wife, his son, his daughter. Steven must choose to kill one to save the other two. If he fails to act, all three will die.
This is a slight twist on the original myth, to be sure. However, it brings the same dynamics into play; paternal authority, familial responsibility, moral compromise. The Killing of a Sacred Deer takes those central dynamics of the classic tragedy and filters them through the prism of Lanthimos and Filippou. As Steven weighs his impossible
choice, the film becomes an abstract meditation upon questions of masculinity, impotence and responsibility.
“Have you got hair under your arms yet?”
Young Bob asks this question of Martin early in the film, as the two Murphy children sit upstairs with their enigmatic visitor. Martin concedes that he has, and Bob asks to see it. Still smoking his cigarette, Martin obliges. Lifting his shirt, he confirms that he does indeed have hair under his arms. Bob insists that his father Steven has more body hair. “Three times” as much, in fact.
This observation stays with Martin. When Martin visits with Steven a few scenes later, he asks Steven to remove his shirt so that he might verify this account first hand. Steven compromises, opening his shirt for the boy to see. “You do have more hair than me,” Martin reflects. “But not three times as much.”
In the world of The Killing of a Sacred Deer, masculinity is something that can be measured and quantified. Its characters suggest that there are objective criteria by which an individual might be found to be a man. Steven suggests another such objective measurement later in the film, in conversation with his son Bob about the strange paralysis that has taken hold of the young child.
Steven relates an intimate story from his own childhood. The cardiologist apparently grew up in a household of men; he makes reference to his “brothers” and his “father”, but no acknowledgement of any sisters or his mother. Indeed, he recalls visiting his father in bed, suggesting the complete absence of a maternal figure.
Steven relates his early memories of masturbation, and his disappointment with the low quantities of ejaculate. “Only a little,” he reflects. “Barely a drop.” He acknowledges surprise at his father’s potency, suggesting a Freudian insecurity about his own masculinity. This plays out over the arc of the film, in which Steven repeatedly struggles to fulfil the archetypal role of the proud and decisive patriarch.
The Killing of a Sacred Deer fixates upon this idea of the traditional male authority figure within a family dynamic. Martin lost his father on the operating table, and clearly blames Steven for this loss. Steven takes the young boy under his wing, and Martin hatches upon a cunning plan to replace what was lost. Although this desire for “balance” escalates to the point where Martin imposes the moral dilemma that eventually drives the film, Martin’s initial plan is for Steven to assume the role of father figure in his own broken family.
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