The recently late Ken Russell is arguably Britain's greatest cult auteur. Although his works are very rarely seen in Great Movie lists (or even Great British Movie lists), I cannot think of any British director whose work is so distinctly and definitively their own. He has juggled genres - period piece (Women in Love (1969)), horror (The Devils (1971), Gothic (1986)), science-fiction (Altered States (1980)), musical (Tommy (1975)) - yet his fingerprints are all over them. It seems death has brought him legendary status, as his work has seen a recent resurgence, namely by British critic Mark Kermode, who described his work as "every bit as flamboyant as Fellini." He had a trademark obsession with religion (or the criticism of it) and sexual imagery, And although I've only seen a handful of his films, these themes have seemingly never been more prominent than in The Lair of the White Worm.
Based on the novel by Bram Stoker, it tells the story of an ancient mythical legend, the slain white 'worm', in a rural Derbyshire village. Archaeologist Angus Flint (Peter Capaldi) unearths the large skull that appears to be of a giant snake outside the Bed & Breakfast ran by two sisters, Mary (Sammi Davis) and Eve (Catherine Oxenberg). James d'Ampton (Hugh Grant) tells him the story of the d'Ampton Worm, a giant snake that was apparently slain by one his ancestors. When Lady Sylvia Marsh (Amanda Donohoe) hears rumours of this skull, she steals it and spits venom onto a religious picture. She later kidnaps Eve in order to sacrifice her to re-awaken the White Worm, while James investigates the strange events happening around the village.
Imagine Hammer handing the novel of The Lair of the White Worm to Russ Meyer and asking him to take some acid and make it into a film, and you'll have an idea into what this film is like. On many levels it does not work - it is utterly ridiculous, outrageously camp, and features some dodgy effects and model-work. Yet Russell has his tongue firmly in his cheek, and often I expected the actors to wink into the camera after delivering their double-entendre lines. And for this reason, I was completely powerless in enjoying the film. The actors completely buy into it, namely an extremely sexy Amanda Donohoe, whom Russell places into some outlandishly vampiric and dominatrix-esque costumes. It is also unbelievably (yet satisfyingly) offensive to Christians and the religious. Most people will hate this film, but fans of B-movies and camp trash will lap it up, as did I.
In the former Soviet Union, 16-year old Lilya (Oksana Akinshina) lives with her mother and new boyfriend, and is excitedly awaiting a relocation to the United States. It turns out her mother doesn't want her there, and takes off with the promise of Lilya following later, leaving Lilya alone in her apartment. Her aunt then throws her out, giving her the run-down flat of a recently deceased old man, and Lilya finds herself without any money, and only the young Volodya (Artyom Bogucharskiy) as a friend. Desperate, she discovers how easy it is to make money from whoring herself out, and then meets the handsome Andrei (Pavel Ponomaryov), who invites her to live with him in Sweden. Despite Volodya's warnings, she decides to take his offer, but it soon becomes apparent that there is more to his Andrei's promises.
Based on a true story of a young girl who was trafficked to Sweden only to find herself imprisoned and forced to have sex for money, director Lukas Moodysson's film is set mostly in a very grim reality. Similar both to the social realism of Ken Loach, and the relentless and uncomfortable degrading of it's lead female character that is so prominent in Lars von Trier's films, Moodysson film is certainly brutal. As Lilya (played with a tragic naivety by Akinshina) is being abused in Sweden, we are treated to a POV montage of the various perverts and abusers, sweating and breathing into the camera. We live through the whole thing through the eyes of Lilya, a character of almost operatic tragedy, who suffers for the sins of others in a country ravaged by poverty, glue-sniffing and boredom.
But Moodysson wisely doesn't keep everything grim. In the final third, as Lilya suffers the most, the film often turns dream-like and fairy-tale. He introduces angels and dream sequences, as Lilya finds herself drifting through existence in an almost coma-like state, with her dreams and fantasies her only relief. These scenes (and there are only a few) are not flashy or whimsical, but are subtle and simplistic, in a similar way that Wim Wenders portrayed his angels in Wings of Desire (1987). It's a powerful tool that makes Lilya's plight all the more profound. The film plays out almost like a cruel fairy-tale, only set very much in the real world. Lilya 4-Ever is a hard film to sit through, but is rich in humanity, even though most of its characters are certainly devoid of it.
Steve Morgan (Lawrence Tierney) pulls off a heist and kills the cashier. Fleeing the police, he hitches a ride with love-sick Jimmy Ferguson (Ted North), who is on his way back home to his wife after a work party. They stop at a gas station where Morgan's bad attitude rubs off on night watchman Joe (Andrew Tombes). Steve invites two women to tag along and they set off again, only for Joe to report Steve to the police after he hears a warning on the radio. A road block is set up, blocking their path, so Steve suggests they go to the beach house of Steve's boss as Jimmy stinks of booze. While there, the group start to learn the truth about Steve's crime and just what he is capable of.
The Devil Thumbs a Ride has picked up a cult following over the years from B-movie historians and fans of film noir. What makes it stand out amongst the endless list of B-movie noirs is the extremely gritty tone, and the sadistic, sociopathic character of Steve, coldly played to perfection by Tierney. This is noir at its nastiest. Steve will do anything to simply buy himself more time, including drowning a woman in plain sight. Sure, there are problems - the film is far too short at a mere 60 minutes and could do with some more character development, and Joe's tagging along with the police seems a bit silly - but this is a tightly wrapped quickie that leaves its mark regardless. If you can find it, I would urge you to see it, as although there are plenty of much better noirs out there, this is a fine example of how directors could get away with nasty themes and despicable characters if they placed them in a noir setting. Tough, impressive stuff.
Dr. Hobbes (Fred Doederlin) has been using unorthodox methods upon his transplant patients, placing large, penis-shaped worms in their bodies to act in place of the missing organ. He has placed one in his under-age patient, whom he strangles at the beginning of the film, only to slit his own throat with a razor blade. Nicholas Tudor (Allan Kolman) is a former patient and, after a violent episode, coughs up a worm off his balcony, and it sets about infecting others. Soon enough, the community (a sort of isolated holiday tower block) is overrun with sex-crazed zombies, and it's up to the resident doctor Roger St. Luc (Paul Hampton) to get to the bottom of it.
Shivers is David Cronenberg's first full-length feature film, and he offers an insight into a subject that would remain prominent throughout his career. That is the human psyche mixed with the sexual; whether it be sexual promiscuity or inner perversions, it is here wrapped up as a schlock horror. The bland inhabitants of the tower block appear bored and resigned to their positions in the social order. That is, until the parasite quickly spreads and their suppressed sexual desires come to the fore and they are soon fucking everything in sight and slavering at the mouth. The distinction between sex and horror are blurred to the point where it's difficult to ascertain who is being killed and who is being raped. Cronenberg took huge risks with the censors, exploring and mixing themes such as paedophilia, rape, medical experimentation and sexual disease. With the explosion of AIDS just round the corner, Shivers becomes almost prophetic.
This being Cronenberg's first 'proper' film, it is rough around the edges. The horror is manic to the point of ridiculous, as we are treated to an orgy of flesh and blood that is almost non-stop in the last 30 minutes. Cronenberg would soon learn that such gratuitousness is not needed to compliment his social and sexual commentary, and would refine it rather quickly, leading to such great films such as The Brood (1979) and Videodrome (1983). Not to say this ruins the film, after all, it is a Grindhouse favourite, so a bit of over-the-top exploitation is expected. Far from his best work, but a fascinating insight into the mind of one of the greatest horror directors of all time (although lately he has moved away from the genre).
Latif Yahia (Dominic Cooper) is a patriotic Iraqi soldier who finds himself brought in by Uday Hussein (also Cooper), a former classmate and son of Saddam to whom he bears an uncanny resemblance. Uday wants him to become his body double to protect him from potentially dangerous situations, and make appearances while Uday indulges in women, drink and drugs. Latif refuses, only to be tortured and beaten until he agrees. After undergoing some minor plastic surgery and given some fake teeth, Latif shadows Uday and realises he is an absolute psychopath, raping and murdering women as well as torturing anyone who challenges or opposes him. Uday's mistress Sarrab (Ludivine Sagnier), tired of Uday's unpredictable nature and wild behaviour, shows interest in Latif, and the two start a dangerous affair.
The story of Latif Yahia has been dubbed dubious by various investigative journalists due to inconsistencies in his stories and claims by associates of Uday Hussein's that he never used body doubles. That aside, it makes for a quite fascinating story, if a not wholly believable one. Instead of fashioning a serious film about one of the key figures in the troubled and violent recent history of Iraq, director Lee Tamahori (whose recent films include the shitty Bond film Die Another Day (2002) and Nicolas Cage vehicle Next (2007)) has made a gangster film. It plays out like Scarface in Baghdad, and is full of violence, drugs and women, and all but ignores the political and social aspects. It's the main problem with the film, as although this has the potential to be a very good film, the execution is that seen a thousand times before in the gangster genre. In the hands of someone like David Fincher or Michael Mann, this could have been something much more.
However, the film has a trump card in the form of lead Dominic Cooper, who juggles dual roles with apparent ease. I've never been his biggest fan (he's hardly been stretched in his career), but he shows here that he has leading man qualities. Although his portrayal of Uday is wildly over-the-top to the point of a cartoon character sometimes, it's clearly as the director intended, and he switches from the brooding Latif to the psychopathic Uday effortlessly. So whether you believe the story or not (I don't), it makes for an entertaining, if deeply flawed, film, and Uday Hussein proves a terrifying madman, especially given that he was very real (before US forces killed him in 2003).
When two workers accidentally cause a chemical leak at a research facility, the staff are turned into flesh-eating zombies. After a hostage situation that calls for the research centres to be close, is contained, four commandos are dispatched to Papa New Guinea to investigate the zombie threat. Already there, is journalist Lia (Margit Evelyn Newton) and her cameraman, who are investigating recent strange murders and events amongst the tribes people who live on the island. They mix with the natives, only to come under attack from a hoard of zombies, and are forced to a nearby house to investigate further.
After the massive success of Lucio Fulci's Zombie Flesh Eaters (1979), there was a hunger (ho ho) for zombie films. Director Bruno Mattei was brought in based on his ability to work under a tight budget, but the shoot was sporadic and problematic, with uncredited director Claudio Fragasso shooting the gore scenes, and having to incorporate scenes from another mondo film to give the film some continuity. The result is a silly mess of a film that doesn't really make much sense, and even for an 80's zombie film, is pretty bad. For one, when the world faces the threat of global contagion and the human race possible extinction, why send four of the dumbest commandos in history to neutralise the threat? In a scene in the final third of the film when the group reaches the house after coming under attack, one of the commandos dresses up in women's clothes and prances in front of the mirror, clearly amusing himself. And this is one of the men they choose to save the planet?
The film does include buckets of enjoyable blood and guts. And there's plenty of it. Granted, it looks ridiculously fake and silly but it's all you can want and expect from a low-budget video nasty. They save the best for last, where a character has their eyes popped out from the inside by a zombie hand inserted through the mouth. It's certainly an amusing note to finish the film on. But the film is so fucking stupid and overlong that no amount of gore can save this film from being yet another uninspired zombie cash-in.
George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is one of the biggest stars in Hollywoodland. His latest picture looks set to be a commercial success after he charms the audience after a screening with his on and off-screen sidekick dog Jack. Afterwards, as the press surge around him, a screaming fan, Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) drops her purse and finds herself alongside George, who grabs her and smiles for the camera. She causes a sensation in the press and lands a small dancing role in George's next film. But with the emergence of the talkies looming, George finds his role as Hollywoodland's favourite star threatened, and Peppy slowly rises and becomes a star in her own right. Unable to find work as a talking film star, George slides into infamy, but finds his path repeatedly crossing with Peppy's.
The emergence of the 'talkies' is one the biggest events in cinema history. Cinema giants found themselves pushed out of the business if they didn't have the right voice, and had to make way for a new set of stars. Very few actors survived the transformation, with the likes of Charlie Chaplin and Greta Garbo managing to scrape through. This has been depicted on screen before, most notably in two very different masterpieces - Billy Wilder's homage-filled noir Sunset Boulevard (1950), and Stanley Donen's iconic musical Singin' in the Rain (1952). While the latter depicted an ageing former silent star verging on madness, and the latter a production company making the difficult transition from silent movies to musicals, what The Artist has going for it is that it's shot and acted exactly like a silent movie, and does so with such dedication and love that it transports you back to the time where you feel as if you're witnessing this change first hand.
It would be easy to make a mockery of silent movies. As many greats as the era produced, they mainly consist of over-the-top acting, unrealistic sets and overly romantic attitudes (I said mainly, I'm not referring to the works of Murnau, Lang and Dreyer, but mainly the work that came out of Hollywood). But they were simple, passionate and often theatrical, and the works of Chaplin, Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton are still some of the greatest comedies ever made. Director Michel Hazanavicius is clearly in love with them, and even shot the film in the 1.33:1 aspect ratio, which allows the actors to dominate the screen. It is also littered with sly winks to the era and to the likes of Mary Pickford, who was possibly the biggest actress of the era, and Douglas Fairbanks (a scene from his The Mark of Zorro (1920) is shown as a Valentin movie, with Valentin incorporated into the close-up shots).
The casting is a stroke of genius. Dujardin has such a perfect cinematic face that it is as if he was made for silent cinema. He simply doesn't need to speak, he has the ability to generate an emotion with an eyebrow movement, and has possibly the greatest screen moustache for many a year. If the Academy fails to recognise his performance here, I'll eat my own face, and I hope he goes on to bigger and better things. Bejo is not nearly as impressive, but charms her way through the film and is perfectly believable in her role. She has real chemistry with Dujardin, and the scene in which she has a small role dancing with Valentin, who keeps fluffing his actions because he is enamoured by Peppy, is truly beautiful. It is one of the most genuine and achingly romantic scenes I've seen in the cinema.
It is too early to call it a masterpiece, but it is truly a stunning film and the hype is well justified. But I did leave wondering if I had just witnessed the death of cinema. Are we so devoid of ideas that we have reverted back to where we started? Well, no, but it did make me think. Cinema has come full circle, and I am now concerned that there is nothing else left to explore. With the emergence of 3-D, old classics such as Star Wars (1977) and Jurassic Park (1993) are being re-released into cinemas. Do we now have to look back for inspiration, rather than forward into the unknown? Perhaps people have wondered this in the past, only to then witness cinematic landmarks that have pushed the medium forward. I'm most likely, and hopefully, wrong, but for now I'll enjoy The Artist for what it is - a love letter to a time in cinema often neglected by the masses - and a brilliant one at that.
The film begins in 1958, where a bunch of jolly, guitar-playing camp members are happily singing away at Camp Crystal Lake. Two sneak off to a nearby barn where they are brutally murdered by an unseen killer. In the modern day (well, 1980), a fresh gang of horny teenagers are making their way to a recently re-opened Camp Crystal Lake, ignoring the warnings of local madman Crazy Ralph (Walt Gorney) that the place is cursed. They learn that years ago a young boy drowned in the lake, and the place has never been the same. The group soon find themselves being picked off one-by-one in various bloody ways.
Following the success of John Carpenter's excellent Halloween (1978), Friday the 13th was greenlit with a modest budget and an unknown young cast (including an early appearance by Kevin Bacon). The film proved a huge success, and is one of the most financially profitable slasher films ever made. How this happened I don't know, as despite the franchise's cult following, and the iconic character of Jason Voorhees (who doesn't appear here), the Friday the 13th films are as mundane and as formulaic as practically every slasher of the era. The original, which you would expect to the best or at least prove moderately memorable, is dull, predictable and shockingly unimaginative.
It plays out like a beginner's guide to the slasher film - horny, naive youngsters; a blissful location full of murky history; a stalking killer; 80's haircuts; minimal budget; terrible fashion. But there's just nothing to take from this film that hasn't been done far better in other horrors. Given that horror legend/genius Tom Savini is on hand to do the visual effects, the murders are terribly bland, with only Kevin Bacon's early demise proving remotely memorable. There are some minor plus-points - the soundtrack is iconic, there are plenty of annoying characters whose deaths you can eagerly await, and there is a silly but enjoyable final 'shock'. But underneath it all, Friday the 13th, is as crap as the majority of the 1980's slashers. And now for 9 more.
Nogreh (Agheleh Rezaie) is a young woman living in a post-Taliban Afghanistan. She ultimately seeks to be educated, and finds solace in a girl school promoting new ideals and attitudes to women. Even though the Taliban have been defeated in the country, old ways are still present and burqa's are still preferred. She lives with her Conservative father and her sister-in-law Leylomah, who is searching for her missing husband who has not returned from war. Also, Leylomah has a baby who she is struggling to feed after her milk dries up. Amongst these struggles, Nogreh is running for class president and uses a Pakistani refugee to help with her ultimate goal which is to become President of Afghanistan.
The title comes from Federico Garcia Lorca's poem Lament for Ignacio Sanchez Mejias, which tells the story of a famous bullfighter tragically coming to an end in the ring. It is repeated several times by the Pakistani character named 'Poet' (Razi Mohebi). Mejias was a real and popular figure in Spain, who returned to bullfighting after a long spell out only to be killed. The character of Nogreh has high hopes after Afghanistan is rejuvinated only to be disappointed by a country set in its ways. Although it is clearly an improvement, attitudes to women are still the same and are seen as the inferior sex. This is most evident in the scene where she poses for photographs which she plans to use in her class president campaign, only to have the photographer laugh in her face upon discovering she wants to eventually run for President of the country. While Lorca's poem is tragic and romantic, At Five in the Afternoon is observant and naturalistic.
It would be easy, given the recent history of Afghanistan, to weave a tale of despair and woe, but director Samira Makhmalbaf tells a story that is full of hope. This hope comes from the character of Nogreh, who is brilliantly portrayed by Rezaie. Although she is ultimately looked down upon, and is scared of her father finding out about her radical attitudes, she is determined, and represents Makhmalbaf's hope of a new generation of women that will rise up and compete against the men who have dominated the country for years, and have ultimately led to the deaths of thousands of its inhabitants and many wars. The underlying messages aren't rubbed in your face; they are instead laid out in real situations. The film won Jury Prize at Cannes, and is a shining light in what will hopefully become a New Wave in Middle Eastern film-making - God knows they have stories to tell.
The world had been introduced to the concept of the serial killer in the late 19th century, most famously with Jack the Ripper, and the lesser known H. H. Holmes. However, in the late 1950's the world was introduced to something wholly different. In a small town in Wisconsin, authorities were alerted to a thoroughly macabre scene, in Ed Gein's run-down farmhouse. To begin with the body of store owner Bernice Warden was hung upside down, headless, and gutted like a slaughtered animal. However, this was only the beginning, as police searched the house, body parts were found, fashioned into furniture and other such objects. Gein was not classed as a serial killer, as he only killed 2, however, he also had an obsession with exhuming bodies from graves. For the horror genre, this one incident was to totally revolutionised it, changing the horror from the uncanny to the very ordinary. Gein's crimes influenced, most notably, Psycho (1960), The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), and Silence of the Lambs (1991).
Deranged takes a more direct influence from the story, and only changes the names of the characters and place. The film begins with the death of Ezra Cobb's (Roberts Blossom) over-bearing, God-fearing mother (Cosette Lee). Having been dominated by his mother, Ezra is practically a child, and knows nothing of the world. After exhuming his mother, the process of decomposition is gradually relieved as Ezra collects other bodies to both patch her up and keep them company. This inevitably leads to murder.
The film is narrated by a mock reporter, who addresses the audience through both voice-over and orating directly to the camera. This device is clearly in place to give the narrative some sense of realism, and therefore realistic gravitas. Blossoms performance as Cobb is funny, disturbing, and something exudes pathos (strangely). For it's exploitation limitations, the film is actually quite good. It is not overly gratuitous and has some dramatic tension. This kind of story and type of criminal is relatively commonplace, we are kind of desensitised to this specific kind of morbid scenario. And for my money, this film is far, far superior to the very disappointing Tartan release of Ed Gein (2000), which felt more like the horror equivalent of a sci-fi channel movie of the week.
Colin (Alastair Kirton) arrives at his friend's home holding a hammer and covered in blood. He washes a savage wound in his arm before being attacked by his friend, now one of the undead. Colin kills the zombie before slowly turning into one himself. Once turned, Colin embarks on a journey of discovery amongst an apparent zombie apocalypse. He finds a taste for human flesh but rarely attacks. He is mugged for his trainers before being rescued by his sister, who he then mindlessly bites. We then follow Colin across a chaotic city, where the humans seem to be more savage than the zombies.
The story of Colin is really quite remarkable. Apparently made for £45, director Marc Price shot the film on a ten-year old camcorder and used social network sites to gather willing actors. When screened at various horror festivals, the film attracted the attention of various production companies and Colin went onto having a limited cinema release. When Danny Boyle released 28 Days Later (2002) and re-invented zombies as fast, scary and fuelled by rage (rather than a taste for flesh), the zombie genre was given a new lease of life. Even zombie legend George A. Romero got back in the game and made the okay Land of the Dead (2005). They are still as popular now as they were back then, and the straight-to-video market especially is plagued by them. It has become slightly tiresome and formulaic. The success of Colin stems from the fact that it does something wholly original and tells the story from the zombie's point of view.
Colin admittedly looks terrible - but when you shoot a film for the same price as a video game then that can certainly be forgiven. This is by no means a great film, but it's certainly interesting, and has some inspired moments. In the early scenes, Colin wanders the streets and finds some building blocks which he eyes with recognition and confusion, and later finds an iPod which he listens to for a while before discarding. It adds new dimensions to the zombie which makes a nice change from seeing them being blasted away (although that is also fun). The camerawork can certainly be irritating, as sometimes it's hard to work out what is actually happening, but again, this can be forgiven. I'll be interested to see what Price goes on to do after this, as he's made the most likeable and sympathetic zombie since Day of the Dead's (1985) Bub.
In the 1980's, the realisation that computers will soon play an extremely important role in everyday life was becoming more and more evident. This idea was treated with excitement, curiosity, and fear - people genuinely did not know how powerful they would become, but they were certainly fearful of it. Cinema explored this fear in successful films such as The Terminator (1984), which depicted a future where humans were locked into a battle with robots, and Tron (1982), in which a character is sucked into a game where he is forced to battle with the computer to survive. Never had the capabilities of computers been so realistically portrayed than in WarGames, a film that introduced the world to home computers, hacking, and how humanity can be replaced by machines (as well as the idea that nuclear destruction is still a threat).
When two missile controllers fail to launch a missile during a test launch due to uncertainty, government bigwig McKittrick (Dabney Coleman) introduces his superiors to WOPR (War Operation Plan Response), a giant super-computer that repeatedly plays games with itself to generate stats and results of possible nuclear war outcomes. The operation is given the go-ahead, and workers find themselves replaced by this metallic super-brain, that will deal with any potential nuclear threat to the US. High school punk David (Matthew Broderick) is a highly intelligent computer-obsessive who uses his hacking skills to change his grades on his high school system. When he learns that a company is releasing new breakthrough games in California, he scans the area for computers in order to hack into their mainframe. He stumbles upon a computer that lists many strange war games, including 'Global Thermonuclear War'. He begins a game, choosing to be Russia, but unbeknownst to him, he is actually playing WOPR who is playing the game for real. Soon David is brought in by the FBI who suspect him of working with the Russians, while the threat of global nuclear destruction lingers as WOPR carries on playing the 'game'.
I viewed this film quite often when I was a child as I owned the VHS, but admittedly the film went over my head somewhat and I found it quite boring. Watching it now, I was shocked to find out this is a very good film, and it makes for a gripping adult thriller, while maintaining that 1980's kids-film-feel. The technical aspects shown on screen are extremely well-researched, and David's hacking activities make for exciting and interesting viewing. It's also fascinating to see the early giant, clunky computers of the 1980's and an early portrayal of the Internet. Overall, this is a highly entertaining thriller that is well acted, scripted and filmed (and even received three Academy Award nominations), and has plenty of those nostalgic qualities for us children of the 80's.
It has been well documented that 1950's science fiction was a reflection of the fears of Communist infiltration of the American way: political difference was something (and still is) that creates gung-ho attitudes towards outside elements - something that the USofA is incapable of accepting, just look at the travesty of the Vietnam war. Invaders from Mars is no different to this trend of political allegory - and was also another way for film makers to make statements about the country that they were living in; through the use of allegory, and using the very visually stunning and populist genre of science fiction.
Young David MacLean (generic 1950's freckly kid, Jimmy Hunt), witnesses what he believes to be a flying saucer land underground at the back of his home. On reporting this to his father, George (Leif Erickson) he decides to investigate the area. What transpires is that people are being sucked into a hole in the sand, and implanted with mind control devices. So, the minds of the local population slowly become slaves to the "martian" ideals, and a bid to stop the production of the atom bomb, which is being developed in the local area. David, being of sound scientific processes, notices the difference in behaviour in his parents, and tries to warn the townsfolk. The nuclear family is destroyed by the alien infiltration, which is precisely what the American people/government believed would occur if Communist ideologies were to get to the American people.
William Cameron Menzies was a production/art director on such classics as Gone with the Wind (1939), and also had uncredited director duties on The Thief of Bagdad (1940), and Duel in the Sun (1946). His eye for detail within the frame is highly evident in this classic of '50's sci-fi. Considering this was a B-movie, that had an incredibly low budget, the visuals of the film, whilst often simple, are absolutely triumphant. OK, so the "martian" silly green furry costumes are laughable, but this does not hinder the enjoyment of the piece, and I hold it in high regard, along with other classics of the decade, such as The War of the Worlds (1953), The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), and Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956).
Despite the fact that The Blair Witch Project (1999) was made over 10 years ago, the "found footage" style film making is still used (and is possibly moving towards overuse). Of course this is not completely new. In 1980 Cannibal Holocaust's main narrative drive revolved around the idea of found footage, but this style has evolved slightly, in part due to the change in television production. Only recently there have been several examples of this trend, such as Diary of the Dead (2007), REC (2007), Cloverfield (2008), Paranormal Activity (2007), to name just a few.
So this brings us to Troll Hunter, Andre Ovredal's take on an old Norwegian folk tale of the mythical trolls found in native countryside. The story is very similar to Blair Witch in the sense that the film focuses on a group of students who are making a film. The group track down Hans (Otto Jespersen) who is a lone hunter. After a series of killings (thought to be by bears) in the local area, the group try to follow Hans as he hunts the bears. Obviously Hans turns out to be a government employed troll hunter, working secretly, as the government would like to keep the mythic creatures under wraps.
As previously stated, this film is of the found footage variety, and therefore the camera work is purposefully of an amateur quality. This said, the film works very well, introducing the viewer to the various variety of trolls. The special effects are of a high quality for such a small budgeted film, and some of the performances (Particularly from Otto as the troll hunter) are very suitable to the story. It may well be a fact that this style of film making is becoming over used to the point of nausea, but the film is exciting enough to justify it's pretentions.
"We've gone on holiday by mistake!". This line, spoken by Richard E. Grant's flamboyant and tragic alcoholic Withnail, sums up this cult British masterpiece. Made on a shoe-string budget (partly funded by George Harrison), Withnail & I has gained momentum in the last decade or so, and is now considered a British classic and certainly one of the greatest comedies made in the last thirty years or so. It tells the story of two hard-drinking, out-of-work thespians living in their filthy London flat awaiting that call from their agent that will inevitably break them. Tired and consumed by the misery of 1969 London, 'I' (often referred to as 'Marwood', played by Paul McGann) persuades Withnail to travel to the remote cottage in the Lake District owned by Withnail's outlandishly homosexual Uncle Monty (Richard Griffiths).
The two city-dwellers struggle with survival, poverty and the aggression of the locals, until Monty arrives in a comical scene where the two think that a threatening poacher has broken in to kill them. Withnail is happy sponging off his Uncle while I remains terrified and uncomfortable at Monty's increasingly aggressive sexual advances. While this hardly sounds like a barrel of laughs, writer/director Bruce Robinson's script (based on his personal experiences) is chocked full of great, quotable lines, as well as genuinely beautiful wordplay. While the film has become the focus of many an annoying student who enjoy playing the 'Withnail Drinking Game', I refuse to let this ruin my absolute love for this truly stunning film.
While the comedy is what it is ultimately remembered for, Withnail & I is also a sober and quite depressing portrayal of the death of 'the greatest decade known to man'. Danny the drug dealer (played brilliantly by Ralph Brown) sums it up when he says "they're selling hippy wigs in Woolworths, man." 'I' is truly disillusioned by his surroundings, and often the film feels like a massive comedown from the colossal high of the 1960's. This is apparent straight away, as the first scene depicts 'I' slumped on a chair, his eyes tired and red after a massive speed binge, painfully toking down a joint while the soundtrack plays a wailing saxophone.
But Withnail & I is remembered for it's comedy for a reason. There are literally too many great lines to quote, but my personal favourites have to be "why has my head gone numb?"/""why'd you drug their onions!?"/"here, hare, here? Here, hare, here!"/"flowers are merely tarts, prostitutes for the bees!"/"fork it!"/"we're going to buy this place, and install a fucking jukebox in here, liven you stiffs up a bit!". I'll stop now, as I can literally quote the entire film. These lines, as great as they are, wouldn't be half as good if they didn't have great actors saying them. Grant always gets the plaudits (and considered he is teetotal, his performance is truly great), but Paul McGann's equally impressive performance is understated and ultimately underrated. And Griffiths injects an air of tragedy into the nostalgia-filled and lonely Monty, who poetically remembers his times at Oxford when his life was once full of excitement and feeling.
I could literally talk about this film for hours, I love it that much. Every time I see it I notice another visual gag, another verbal joke, or another line of beauty that I failed to grasp the previous times. And never has a film moved me so much every time I view it, when, at the climax, Withnail quotes Hamlet while slumped over a railing, wine bottle in hand, rain hammering onto his umbrella. Truly exquisite, exciting, personal film-making, and one that will forever remain one of my personal favourites.
Mahmut (Muzaffer Ozdemir) is a successful photographer living in his middle-class apartment in Istanbul. His wife has recently left him, and he is suffering from feelings of isolation and loneliness. Mahmut's cousin Yusuf (Emin Toprak) loses his factory job (along with possibly 1000 others in his hometown) and travels to Istanbul to find work on the ships, where he hears the money is plentiful and easy. Yusuf moves in with Mahmut, and the social and emotional distance between the two is immediately apparent. As time goes by, Yusuf struggles to find work and desperately searches for love (or sex) to no avail, while Mahmut becomes increasingly frustrated with Yusuf's slobbish attitudes and lethargic attitude.
Director Nuri Bilge Ceylan's background is in photography, leading to a natural progression into films. His eye for photographic beauty is evident as Uzak is often astonishing in it's framing and colour saturation. Istanbul is shot with an aura of misery, and these two lonely souls gaze out to the grey sea with the rain and drizzle falling upon their slumped shoulders. However, amongst the greys and the browns, Uzak proves to be an extremely funny film, with Ceylan drawing humour from the most mundane of everyday occurrences. I found the most subtly funny scene is where Mahmut and Yusuf watch Tarkovsky's Stalker (1979), with Yusuf getting bored at what looks like around the twenty minute point. Yusuf leaves, and Mahmut quickly puts a porn video in. Yusuf re-enters causing Mahmut to quickly turn the channel over, only for Yusuf to linger over his shoulder mindlessly staring at the TV. It brilliantly captures the increasing tension between the two, while laughing at their ridiculous situation.
The title Uzak translates at Distant, referring to the social, emotional and spiritual distance between the two, but it also refers to the global distance that is appearing in society as the world gets smaller. Communication is easier yet harder. Although Mahmut and Yusuf are physically and geographically together, they are miles apart. Mahmut is sophisticated and clean (or at least he likes to think of himself like this and models himself on Tarkovsky, but as the aforementioned scene proves, he'd much rather watch a bit of porn) and Yusuf is uneducated and messy. Mahmut has sacrificed personal happiness to live out his idyllic middle-class lifestyle, and Yusuf lazes around expecting a job and money to come to him, leading him to live out his miserable, sexually inactive life. Uzak is occasionally grim and contains little dialogue, but Ceylan's amazing eye for humour and social commentary make it a wonderful experience. And special mention must go to the two leads, who are brilliant in their roles, making it all the more tragic that Emin Toprak was killed shortly after the filming was complete.
After 25 years away from Franco-dictated Spain, Luis Bunuel went back to make Viridiana. The film focuses on a nun called Viridiana, who is informed by her mother superior that her uncle, Don Jaime (Bunuel regular Fernando Rey), is dying and wishes for her to visit him. Whilst he has supported her for many years, she is suspicious of him, and had not seen him for many years. Don Jaime occupies a huge mansion with tracts of land, but has been lonely since his wife died on their wedding night. His only companion is his servant, Romona (Moargerita Lozano) and her daughter Rita (Teresa Rabal). On arrival, Don Jaime sees that Viridiana looks remarkably similar to his dead wife, and proclaims his love for her. When she refuses and leaves, Don Jaime commits suicide. Viridiana is left grief-stricken, and guilty emotions weigh her down. She decides to use the grounds to help 13 beggars.
Whilst not as intrinsically "surreal" as many of Bunuel's more well known films (Belle de Jour (1967) and The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972)), but his black sense of humour is in tack, along with his own brand of irony. After Jaime's death, his son Jorge (Francisco Rabal) arrives at the house. In one scene, Jorge sees a peasant dragging a dog that is tied to his cart. Jorge offers to buy the dog in an effort to save it. Bunuel then appears to mock the entire process of selflessness. Once the transaction is complete (and unseen by Jorge), another dog is seen tied to a cart travelling in the opposite direction.
Whilst Bunuel was permitted to make a film in his native Spain, no sooner had it been released, than the Spanish government banned it on the grounds of blasphemy and obscenity. The Vatican also denounced the film and called for its suppression. It's difficult to see exactly why this was, although there are some themes and representations that may have been contentious. Towards the end of the film, the vagrants that Viridiana has put up, decide to infiltrate the main house whilst the owners are away. In this debauched scene, the 13 beggars, sit around the dinner table, recreating the famous Last Supper painting by Leonardo da Vinci - a blind beggar is in the place of Jesus.
With stunning black and white cinematography by Jose F. Aguayo, each shot is entrenched with beauty and meaning. Whilst not his best film, Bunuel creates a strange drama of basic human desires, and the difficulty in controlling the baser ones. This could also be another possible reason for it's condemnation by the church. For, even with faith, these characters have trouble in controlling themselves, and even Viridiana is implicitly brought into this "life of sin".
Sat somewhere between Wes Craven's disturbing yet interesting The Last House on the Left (1972), and his uber-popular, icon making A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), is this low budget adaptation of a semi-popular DC comics character, Swamp Thing. During this shift from gritty, cinema verite style of Last House, to the more fantastical, "polished" Nightmare, Craven seems to have been trapped within the confines of a television aesthetic. This films action sequences often feel like (and look like) an episode of The A-Team (1983 - 1987). Craven did work on a few TV shows during this period also, so I'm guessing that this film probably had technicians (and particularly), a similar budget to a TV movie.
Alice Cable (Adrienne Barbeau) arrives in the swamps where secret science experiments are taking place. Doctor Holland (Ray Wise) heads the team researching a chemical that has an effect on organic life. Unfortunately, a group of "villains" want the formula for evil purposes (one of the hoods, Ferret, is played by star of Last House, David Hess). After an explosion, Dr Holland disappears, only to turn up as human/plant hybrid monster of the films title.
This is a pretty lacklustre film. As I mentioned, it has that oh-so distinctive TV aesthetic. It is not altogether bad. It has some fun, and funny moments, and the make-up/costume for the Swamp Thing is not too bad for the time. It makes good use of its source, in the sense that it uses it's comic-book devices such as dramatic editing, and sequences where the screen is masked with action shapes. However, this technique was used to greater effect in the same year in George A. Romero's and Stephen King's underrated Creepshow (1982 - a film that also starred Barbeau - who was married to John Carpenter at the time) that used EC horror comics as it's source (I will be reviewing Creepshow at a later date on The Wrath of Blog).
Based on the novel by Bram Stoker, it tells the story of an ancient mythical legend, the slain white 'worm', in a rural Derbyshire village. Archaeologist Angus Flint (Peter Capaldi) unearths the large skull that appears to be of a giant snake outside the Bed & Breakfast ran by two sisters, Mary (Sammi Davis) and Eve (Catherine Oxenberg). James d'Ampton (Hugh Grant) tells him the story of the d'Ampton Worm, a giant snake that was apparently slain by one his ancestors. When Lady Sylvia Marsh (Amanda Donohoe) hears rumours of this skull, she steals it and spits venom onto a religious picture. She later kidnaps Eve in order to sacrifice her to re-awaken the White Worm, while James investigates the strange events happening around the village.
