Review #641: 'A Field in England' (2013)

A Field in England, a low-budget, black-and-white journey into psychedelia from the exciting British director Ben Wheatley, marked the first time a film had been simultaneously released in cinemas, on home media, On Demand, and on free TV. Shot in an unfussy 12 days, the film's historical setting of Civil War-era England was inspired by a historical re-enactment group that were the focus of a documentary Wheatley filmed over a decade ago. Blending folklore, surrealism and black humour, A Field in England certainly doesn't break any boundaries or subvert film-making ideals, but it will certainly have people talking about it afterwards, whether they believe the film to be pretentious nonsense or the arrival of a new genius.

Fleeing from his tyrannical master Trower (Julian Barratt), alchemist Whitehead (The League of Gentleman's Reece Shearsmith) ends up in a large field where he meets three wandering soldiers Cutler (Ryan Pope), Jacob (Peter Ferdinando) and Friend (Richard Glover). Whitehead is out on an errand to locate and capture the mysterious O'Neil (Michael Smiley), a dangerous man who appears to be learned in magic. When they come across O'Neil, the group are forced to look for buried treasure in the field, where madness and mushrooms ensue.

I won't even try and explain any meaning behind the film, if they are indeed any at all. There are many moments of surreality, such as the group being dragged against their will by a large rope or the black sun that keeps appearing to Whitehead. But surrealism isn't supposed to make sense - that's why it's called surrealism. It is supposed to open your mind and let you take away from it whatever you brain tells you to, and I left A Field in England feeling baffled but undeniably wowed. Wheatley has a knack for creating an atmosphere, be it the ever-present feeling of dread in Kill List (2011) or the depressing familiarity of Sightseers (2012) - here it's the sense of horror that seems be looming over these unfortunate characters. The most unnerving moment occurs when Whitehead emerges from O'Neil's tent, after being tortured, with a rope around him like a lead and a demented smile across his face.

Like I mentioned earlier, there are many that will leave this film calling it pretentious nonsense, and they would be half right. Sometimes the film gets completely swept up in its own idiosyncrasies. The rapid editing of Whitehead's mushroom trip contains some astonishing images, but goes on for so long that I couldn't help picturing Wheatley in his editing room asking "what does this button do?". But for all its problems, A Field for England is a nice little experiment within an all too unfamiliar setting that evokes in period and style Michael Reeves' excellent Witchfinder General (1968). The British film industry needs a director that has the ability to split an audience or has the audacity to fuck with them, and Wheatley is a breath of fresh air, and quite possibly the man that convinces this government to start injecting funds back into this crumbling institution.


Directed by: Ben Wheatley
Starring: Reece Shearsmith, Michael Smiley, Peter Ferdinando, Richard Glover, Ryan Pope, Julian Barratt
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #640: 'Lady Snowblood' (1973)

In 1874 Japan, a woman gives birth in a prison. Almost a year before, the woman, Sayo (Miyoko Akaza), her husband and son are attacked in a village by four criminals - Okono (Sanae Nakahara), Banzo (Noboru Nakaya), Tokuichi (Takeo Chii) and Gishiro (Eiji Okada). The husband and son are murdered in cold bold, and Sayo is taken by Tokuichi to work for him. After Sayo murders him, she is sent to prison, where she has sex with many guards in the hope of becoming pregnant, to give birth to a child that can avenge her. That child is Yuki (Meiko Kaji), who after receiving years of training from a priest, becomes Lady Snowblood, a lethal assassin whose only thirst is for revenge.

While this may sound similar to countless martial arts or samurai films to come out of Japan and China during the 1970's, there's something profoundly different to Lady Snowblood. While it certainly offers scenes of outlandish violence (the blood spurts from the body like a gushing fountain), director Toshiya Fujita, taking inspiration from the manga Shurayukihime, seems more interested in building the foundation to the sweeping story than having scene after scene of flying limbs. Separated by title-carded chapters, the film makes a point of giving us a decent story to each target, subtly interlinking the stories to make sure they flow, rather than simply jumping from one person to the next.

What also separates this from others of similar ilk on the grindhouse circuit is the cinematography by Masaki Tamura, which is nothing short of beautiful. I promised myself I would try and get through this entire review without mentioning Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill (2003-2004), but it's not hard to see why he chose to steal (sorry, it's 'homage' when its Tarantino doing it) the same setting and colour palette. Every scene is wide and lovingly crafted, and when the violence ensues, it turns out that red on white is truly stunning. It may not have the outlandish violence of, say, the Lone Wolf and Cub series (1972-1974), but this has a calm yet quick slash of a sword, rather than an extended sword fight, and the film is clinical in that aspect to say the least. While the pace may be often too slow, this is still a satisfying revenge drama featuring one of the most iconic character of its genre.


Directed by: Toshiya Fujita
Starring: Meiko Kaji, Toshio Kurosawa, Eiji Okada, Sanae Nakahara
Country: Japan

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #639: 'A Lizard in a Woman's Skin' (1971)

Carol Hammond (Florinda Bolkan), the daughter of a wealthy politician and lawyer, sees a psychiatrist to help deal with her increasingly bizarre and possibly prophetic dreams. In the dream, she is running down a corridor filled with naked, writhing young bodies to meet her neighbour Julia (Anita Strindberg), only to stab her to death. When Julia is found dead for real, stabbed repeatedly with a letter opener, chain-smoking Detective Corvin (Stanley Baker) is brought in, and pulls Carol's prints off Julia's bed and corpse. In what at first becomes an open and shut case, soon develops into a complex mystery where everyone is a suspect.

Italian horror maestro Lucio Fulci is better known for his splatter-fest horror and zombie films, some of which are excellent, some of which are distinctively below par. But his early giallo output is where he seemed to excel most, and A Lizard in a Woman's Skin is one of the finest of the early giallo's, showing Fulci's (and the genre's) flair for beautiful Italian women, gorgeous cinematography, paint-red gore and a mysterious killer. But here there is only one murder, which in itself sets the film aside from most other giallo's, which more often than not revel in their blood-letting. This is slow-building and driven by atmosphere and mystery above all else.

With a jazzy score by the great Ennio Morricone, the film dazzles with two beautifully realised dream sequences, which show Fulci's unrecognised eye for the visual. With the naked flesh of beautiful women combined with the bold colours of the set design and splashings of blood, evoke an LSD trip - with Fulci here dabbling in the hippy scene. But behind it all there is a gripping mystery, one that will keep you guessing until the very, very end. Red herrings pile on top of red herrings, and alibi's are proven and then disproven. It all gets a bit too much, up to the point where you wonder whether the baffled Corvin is just going to give up and arrest himself. But that is the joy of the giallo, pushing things so far to the extreme that they go beyond ridiculous and into sublime surrealism, and A Lizard in a Woman's Skin is one of the finest examples.


Directed by: Lucio Fulci
Starring: Florinda Bolkan, Stanley Baker, Jean Sorel, Silvia Monti
Country: Italy/Spain/France

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #638: 'The Devil-Doll' (1936)

Two escaped convicts - Paul Lavond (Lionel Barrymore), who was wrongly imprisoned for robbing a Paris bank and killing a night watchman, and Marcel (Henry B. Walthall), a genius scientist who has worked out a formula that can shrink people to a sixth of their size - flee from Devil's Island. They wind up at Marcel's wife Malita's (Rafaela Ottiano) place, where Lavond witnesses Marcel's scientific experiment on his inbred, mute serving girl, shrinking her into a doll size. The plan is to shrink everyone in the world down to this size and control the Earth's food supply, but when Marcel dies suddenly, Lavond convinces Malita to come to Paris with him to seek revenge on the three bankers that wronged him.

The plot has no credibility at all. Even by 1930's horror standards, this is extremely weak plotting. But Tod Browning's solid, reliable direction (here still piecing together his career after 1932's Freaks) and Lionel Barrymore's excellent, if camp, performance, makes The Devil-Doll is a must-see curiosity for horror buffs. The early MacGuffin is set aside in favour of Lavond's revenge, and when in Paris, he cross-dresses and becomes a dear old woman who runs a little toy shop. It's in this disguise that helps him to infiltrate the three suspecting bankers - high-pitched voice, Mrs. Doubtfire-style. Barrymore certainly doesn't shrink from the task, tackling this ludicrous plot device with gutso, and rather it coming across as simply preposterous, the film becomes memorable for it.

The special effects deserve a mention also, as the three set-pieces where Lavond uses his miniature people dolls as instruments of death provide some nice moments. Of course, when compared to the CGI wonders that modern-day film-making provides, it's laughable, but for it's day, The Devil-Doll uses some impressive effects. The whole experience is certainly an odd one. It's not scary or mysterious, nor does the plot makes much (if any) sense, but there's a real heart to the film. Lavond's daughter Lorraine (Maureen O'Sullivan) has hated her father all her life for a crime she believes him to have committed, so the film becomes more than a simple revenge film. The final scene between Lavond and Lorraine is actually quite touching. This won't make any Best Of... horror lists, it's too obscure for that, but it's one of many stand-outs on Tod Browning's filmography, and a true curiosity.


Directed by: Tod Browning
Starring: Lionel Barrymore, Maureen O'Sullivan, Frank Lawton, Rafaela Ottiano
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #637: 'Nails' (1992)

In the post-The Wire world we now dwell in, we are forced to look upon the action/cop thrillers of the 1980's and early 1990's with somewhat fresh eyes. We now understand how a city is run, and how bureaucracy and politics can stand in the way of, say, the police force, getting their job done. No longer can a leather-jacketed, cocktail-stick chewing cop-on-the-edge cast aside the need of a search warrant and simply kick the door down. It used to be that as long as he drags out his man either in cuffs or in a body bag, and saves the girl, nobody will care about his disregard for the law, and if they don't, I quote Rambo, "fuck 'em!". But the enlightenment set by The Wire causes something like Nails, a made-for-TV, obscure little title probably forgotten by whoever has actually seen it, to fall from 'terrible' or 'run-of-the-mill', to 'outright laughable' due to it's complete lack of procedural logic and sense.

'Good cop with a bad attitude' Harry 'Nails' Niles (Dennis Hopper) and his partner Jack (Earl Billings) are lured into a trap by some gangsters, leaving Jack dead and Harry mourning. Getting no help from his police department, of which none attend Jack's funeral, Harry decides to use his street know-how to scour the criminal underworld of L.A. in search of vengeance. He discovers a dirty trail full of conspiracy and possible police cover-up that seems to lead all the way up to rich slumlord Noah Owens (Keith David), who is helping fund a Senator's campaign run. Battling alcoholism and a very bad temper, he must also try and win back his estranged ex-wife Mary (Anne Archer) before the gangsters get to her too.

I would probably have never even been aware of this film's existence had it not been for the poster in some cinema magazine or other back in 1992. My brother and I remembered it due to the hilarious title and equally hilarious tagline, so the temptation to actually go ahead and watch this proved too much. It's not quite as bad as I was expecting, given Hopper's energetic, but hardly convincing, performance at least managing to keep me half-interested. Common in early 90's movies, the technical aspects of the film are dreadful, and the action scenes are dull, with a few car chases and machine gun fights scattered throughout. It's so full of plot holes and weird narrative twists (Harry is paying his ex-wife, who is an important member of the Senator's campaign trail, for sex) that is best experienced on full mental shut-down, or else you're in danger of throwing things at the screen. Befitting of its obscurity, and a reminder of how bad the 90's really were.


Directed by: John Flynn
Starring: Dennis Hopper, Anne Archer, Tomas Milian, Keith David
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #636: 'Class of Nuke 'Em High' (1986)

Following the surprising success of The Toxic Avenger (1984), cult, Z-movie proprietors Troma Entertainment stuck with the toxic-mutation-in-high-school theme and blended it with the zero-taste, smutty humour of the likes of Porky's (1982) to bring us Class of Nuke 'Em High. This is crass, low-brow entertainment, but entertainment it certainly is. Long a cult favourite, this is hopefully due a critical re-evaluation, because if you can look past the many burp and fart gags (although admittedly these probably got the biggest laugh from me), there is an energetic movie underneath, and certainly one of Troma's best works.

Tromaville High School has been overrun by formerly respectful honours students, who now dress like punks and sell weed in the school corridors, calling themselves 'The Cretins'. They sell weed to Eddie (James Nugent Vernon) for a party, where he gives a joint to his friends Warren (Gil Brenton) and Chrissy (Janelle Brady), who end up having some supercharged sex. Unbeknownst to them, the weed was grown next door at the nuclear power plant, giving the weed an extra 'potency'. That same night, Warren and Chrissy have strange dreams, and Chrissy gives birth to a deformed foetus which is flushed down the toilet, only to land in a drum of toxic waste underneath the school.

It's a ridiculous premise, and nothing more than an excuse to flash some boobs and show some gore. The blood-letting is kept a minimum, however, and doesn't really advance with the movie's opening, which has a nerd affected by nuclear waste jump out the window to his death, his body quickly rotting away. This is all about the comedy, and subtle this certainly ain't. The Cretins are ridiculous caricatures, one with a nose ring so big it drops well below his bottom lip, and he carries a bone for some reason. So while Warren gets super-strength, the Cretins have seemed to have just turned nihilistic from smoking too much of that 'Atomic High', as they call it. It's a major inconsistency to the plot, but not one that will have any Troma fans complaining, nor me neither. Some extremely dodgy special effects aside, the climax proves to be insane and amusing, even throwing in a foetus monster for good measure, and rounds off what is a pretty good movie.


Directed by: Richard W. Haines, Lloyd Kaufman
Starring: Gil Brenton, Janelle Brady, Robert Prichard
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #635: 'Tangled' (2010)

The past decade has seen the giant corporation that is the House of Mouse, Disney, struggle somewhat with their output, never managing to recapture the magic of the early classics, nor the rich comedy and iconic music of their 90's re-emergence. They've now bought Pixar, who are still making movies that are very much their own, and the rights to the Star Wars franchise, so money-making is still a dead cert. But in a quest to re-discover their old magic, they went back to the tried-and-tested, and admittedly dated, tradition of the fairytale, and by combining this with the visual humour of Dreamworks' output (but funnier) and some truly dazzling CGI/hand-drawn animation, they've managed to create arguably their first success in years with Tangled, a re-imagination of the Rapunzel fairytale.

After discovering that a magic flower has the ability to temporarily restore her youth, Mother Gothel (Donna Murphy) lives for centuries until a king steals the flower to heal with deathly ill and pregnant queen. She lives, and gives birth to Rapunzel (Mandy Moore), whose hair seems to possess the same magical powers as the flower. Gothel kidnaps the baby and takes her back to a high tower, where she grows up to be a bubbly, but lonely teenager. Because cutting her hair causes the lock to lose its magical power, Mother Gothel forbids Rapunzel to cut her hair, which by her eighteenth birthday, is about fifty feet long. After Gothel is out one day, the thief Flynn Rider (Zachary Levi), after the stealing the queen's crown, escapes his pursuers into Rapunzel's tower.

My main issue with Tangled is something that plagues most, if not all, of today's musicals, and that is that the songs are simply not up to scratch. It's gotten so bad that we don't even get a bad but annoyingly catchy soundtrack by a pop star has-been (I'm looking at you, Phil Collins!), and we are forced to sit through many instantly forgettable musical numbers. But where it did surprise me, is the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn, where I found myself actually caring about their relationship, which is delicately handled and involves two easily likeable characters. It certainly doesn't break any ground, but this at least feels like Disney again, even peppering the film with moments of menace that evoke Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and Pinocchio (1940). And the chameleon Pascal is one the best animal characters Disney have ever created.


Directed by: Nathan Greno, Byron Howard
Voices: Mandy Moore, Zachary Levi, Donna Murphy, Ron Perlman
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #634: 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory' (1971)

There have been many movie adaptations of the great Welsh children's author Roald Dahl, to various degrees of success. I used to love his books as a youth, relishing the dark twists and the playful, if somewhat dark, humour. Yet even the best adaptations didn't really capture the sinister themes behind the best of Dahl's works, but that was up until I saw this, Mel Stuart's adaptation of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, one of Dahl's most popular works. As well as being often psychedelic, it is Gene Wilder's wild yet subtle portrayal of the unpredictable and possibly quite evil Willy Wonka that truly captures Dahl's essence.

Poverty-stricken Charlie Bucket (Peter Ostrum) lives in a cramped house with his mother and the bed-ridden Grandpa Joe (Jack Albertson). The news announces that the reclusive Willy Wonka of Wonka's chocolate company is offering a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for five lucky children to come and see his world-famous factory. Five golden tickets have been placed in Wonka Bars throughout the world, and Charlie, finding the fifth and final ticket, arrives with Grandpa Joe along with fellow winners Veruca Salt (Julie Dawn Cole), Violet Beauregarde (Denise Nickerson), Mike Teevee (Paris Themmen) and Augustus Gloop (Michael Bollner) to meet the eccentric inventor.

This is one of those popular films that everyone had seemed to seen apart from me, so I was expecting a familiar family film full of catchy songs and annoying freckly kids. The songs, apart from the famous 'Pure Imagination', are somewhat forgettable, but I was surprised by the effective performance from the children, and the sheer darkness of the film. Apart from the various disappearances of the increasingly bratty, greedy and ungrateful children (who aren't actual seen again), the boat ride that Wonka takes his party on is particularly unnerving. There are bright, flashing lights, strange music, and various disturbing imagery (including a chicken being decapitated) that infest the screen, making me wonder if I was in fact watching a children's movie, or some fucked-up acid trip from the 70's.

Gene Wilder has made many films that portray his energy and comedic ability that often borders on genius, but he blew me away as Wonka. From his entrance, shuffling along on his cane only to do a somersault in front of the awe-struck crowd, to his furious outburst at the climax, makes Wonka an almost threatening presence, never allowing us to feel completely comfortable when he's on screen. He's ultimately a misanthrope, with only a glimmer of hope that one of the children he's welcomed to his home is truly worthy of inheriting his life's work, using subtle glances or whispers of poetry to merely hint at his true personality. Along with the beautiful sets and solid supporting cast, Willy Wonka was a complete surprise, and surely the best Dahl adaptation that's yet to grace the screen.


Directed by: Mel Stuart
Starring: Gene Wilder, Jack Albertson, Peter Ostrum, Roy Kinnear
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #633: 'Black God, White Devil' (1964)

At just 25, Brazilian director Glauber Rocha directed Black God, White Devil, now considered one of the most important pictures to ever come out of Brazil, and a key entry into the Cinema Novo movement. Combining elements of Sergio Leone, Italian neo-realism, and Soviet propaganda such as the work of Sergei Eisenstein, Rocha created a brutal, grainy world inhabited by suicidal religious fanatics, wandering hit men, and psychopathic bandits. From the opening shots of rotting animal corpses and the endless Brazilian sertão, Rocha portrays a grim social realism, one of the key aspects of Cinema Novo.

Ranch-hand Manuel (Geraldo Del Rey) lives in poverty with his wife Rosa (Yona Magalhaes). Fed up with his situation, he goes into town to sell his stock, only to have his boss try to cheat him out of his money, so Manuel kills him with a machete. Fleeing the authorities, he falls in with maniacal preacher Sebastiao (Lidio Silva), who leads Manuel, Rosa and his other followers on a killing spree. Circumstances lead to Manuel leaving the cause, and joining up with famous bandit Corisco (Othon Bastos), who also leads the couple on an orgy of meaningless violence and thievery. But shadowy gun-for-hire Antonio das Mortes (Mauricio do Valle), having been paid by the church and a poltician, is hot on Corisco's tail.

The film very much reminded me of Cormac McCarthy's astounding novel Blood Meridian, where the sheer brutality of the violence played as a metaphor for a society gone sour and a world intent of self-destruction. Like Blood Meridian's The Kid, Manuel and Rosa follow blindly to whichever cause they see a glimmer of hope in. They fail to see the lunacy of Sebastiao's behaviour, and it's only at the point where he stabs a baby in the heart that their eyes seem to be opened, only for them to shack up with the gibbering Corisco, a man who speaks like a poet but doesn't seem to be able to comprehend his own existence. It is at this point, about two-thirds in, that the film seems to lose momentum and becomes somewhat of an unfathomable mess.

But it isn't just the social-political ponderings that make Black God, White Devil so memorable, it also has style in abundance. The camerawork is shaky and urgent at times, full of character close-ups from awkward angles, but it also uses fast editing reminiscent of Eisenstein's greatest works. Similar to Battleship Potemkin's (1925) Odessa steps sequence, the Monte Santo chapel massacre at the hands of Antonio das Mortes is simply electrifying. It is das Mortes' presence that leads to the moments that evoke the work of Sergio Leone, wrapping the shady anti-hero in moody atmosphere like Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name. It's a dangerous mixture of conflicting styles that works beautifully, making the film beautiful and cool, occasionally horrifying, and undoubtedly important. It's just a shame it doesn't manage to keep up with the absolutely astonishing opening two-thirds.


Directed by: Glauber Rocha
Starring: Geraldo Del Rey, Yoná Magalhães, Othon Bastos, Maurício Do Valle
Country: Brazil

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie