Monday, October 15, 2012

31 Horrors: Sssssss (#8)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

Let's ignore the, quite frankly, ridiculous title of this 1973 killer snake flick Sssssss (also known as Ssssnake in the UK), and move on to the fact that, ya know, it's actually kinda good!


The film begins with a warning label slash thank you card to the cast and crew, stating that the animals used in the making of Sssssss were not defanged and that the people involved in the production genuinely put their lives on the line to make it. "It" being a film that was one of the last films ever made specifically for a double feature - it played alongside The Boy Who Cried Werewolf - which is a nifty lil fact to know. As I watched it I actually thought the movie had the visual aesthetic of a TV movie. It was directed by Bernard L. Kowalski, whose previous film was indeed a TV one, and it shows, although he definitely amped it up with the lovely use of widescreen. Still, it has a pale wash over it that lacks a certain cinematic quality, and yet one that befits a film of this kind.

Anyway, I'm getting a bit sidetracked. I really enjoyed Sssssss! I had trepidations to watch it, after discovering it hidden amongst my flatmate's DVD collection, as snakes give me the willies. Oh sure, they're not quite as bad as, say, the spiders in Arachnophobia, but they're still creepy. There's a disturbing nature to the creatures, and seeing the flaky, scaly flesh of these reptiles meant I have no trouble believing the filmmakers' claims that they're the real deal is true and not some made up wannabe urban legend that they invented for notoriety sake.

Written by Hal Dresner and Daniel C. Striepeke, Sssssss does a good job of setting up the mechanics of a "killer snake" movie without merely relying on - oh, I dunno - a truck transporting a collection of deadly snakes overturning, unleashing the hissing horror upon a small town of unsuspecting victims. Strother Martin is quite deliciously sinister as snake expert Dr Carl Stoner and Dirk Benedict is also surprisingly fine as his milquetoast assistant/experiment subject. I particularly enjoyed Heather Menzies, too, whose Diane Keaton shag revealed a shoulda been scream queen (she also made Piranha, but that's about it as far as Menzies and genre fare go). Knowing she was one of the Von Trapp kids in The Sound of Music just adds to my fondness for her performance. She's especially impressive in the film's final 30 minutes.

And, look, can I mention this? Yes, of course I can. You've come to expect it, haven't you?




Yes, that Dirk Benedict was quite a good looking man back in the day. He wasn't cast as "the faceman" on The A-Team for his brain. That last shot is a from a skinny dipping scene that was presumably to feature more nudity that it eventually did. It's quite obvious throughout the scene that some particularly fake-looking foliage had been superimposed over the image of Benedict and Menzies' bare bottoms. Bless 'em. Shame though, amiright?

What I didn't expect from Sssssss, however, was that about half way in it would become a homage to Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho! In a turn of narrative events that had me guffawing (at 1.30am, mind you!), several nods to the masterful 1960 film become obvious. No more so, of course, than this film's own rendition of the famed shower scene that sees Strother Martin's character, initially a protagonist until his obvious evil deeds became known, enter the bathroom of a character and sets a black mamba snake into it behind the curtain. A flurry of edited reaction shots later and the Doctor takes back and snake and exits the bathroom, and the apartment, leaving the victim to collapse onto the bathroom floor, dead. Hello! It certainly helps that the victim is the incredibly good looking cult beefcake Reb Brown. What's that you say? Screencaps... oh sure!




















There's more, but none quite as overt as that shower scene. Even the music attempts to bring back memories of Hitch. It's a strange scene for sure, but one that made many innocuous moments thereafter look like sly references. Unrelated to Psycho, but there was even a scene with echoes of Saw a whole 30 years prior to that movie's inception!

So, yes, I was quite impressed with Sssssss. Despite its flaws (1970s transitional visual effects do not look good, you guys!), it ends up a rather effective chiller that doesn't necessarily play in to the regular tropes of the killer animal genre. I mean, how many movies do you know feature a final sequence where in a king cobra snake and a mongoose fight it out to the death before an ambiguous ending on the protagonist's fate? Not many I presume. B

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Review: Killing Them Softly

Killing Them Softly
Dir. Andrew Dominik
Country: USA
Aus Rating: MA15+
Running Time: 97mins

Killing Them Softly is one of the best films of the year. It bristles with palpable energy as it dissects its targets with such focused precision and skill. You wouldn’t guess it from appearances, but Andrew Dominik’s third feature in twelve years is an adaptation of a 1974 novel by George V Higgins named Cogan’s Trade. Swapping the book’s take on 1970s savagery for a modern day look at America through the eyes of criminals, Dominik’s film, which he also wrote the screenplay for, is an exhilarating experience that had me giddy. Playing like the anti-Drive (the Nicolas Winding Refn-directed crime thriller that I labelled the best film of 2011) as if set within the same miserable world as another Brad Pitt-starrer, Se7en, Killing Them Softly will surely raise the ire of many viewers expecting a kick-ass Brad Pitt heist movie. What it is, instead, is a lean, mean take on the modern world as seen through the eyes of those who live outside the law, but must face the realities of the world they inhabit.

Read the rest at Trespass Magazine

If we're going by American release dates (and I tend to do so in general discussion because I kinda forget what films we had to wait for and what we didn't, which causes a chasm in the public discussion) then Killing Them Softly is the best film of the year and I genuinely believe Scoot McNairy - of whom I was already a huuuge fan - gives one of the best performances by anybody this year. Is he gonna explode soon or is he too weaselly for the big crowds?

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

31 Horrors: Chopping Mall (#7)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

Dear readers, put on your jelly bracelets, and your cool graffiti coat! We're going to the mall and having fun is what it's all aboot [sic].

You guys, Chopping Mall is so much fun! I loved it. The 1986 robots-go-berserk-in-the-shopping-mall slasher flick is a total hoot and naturally all I'm doing now is listening to Robin Sparkles' "Let's Go to the Mall" on repeat as I google images of the super foxy (and supremely douchey) male cast. The men of 1980s horror flicks don't get enough recognition and I believe it's my (and Jason Adams of My New Plaid Pants, of course) job to rectify that.

"I'm gonna rock your body 'til Canada Day"


There's even a robot!!! Granted, not a robot with homicidal tendancies brought on by a freak thunderstorm after closing time, but a robot nonetheless. I like to imagine the writers of How I Met Your Mother were fans of Chopping Mall (nee Killbots) and wanted to make Sparkles' "minor hit" of 1992 an homage to this wacky flick. If anything, Chopping Mall proves that "Let's Go to the Mall" is a scarily accurate portrayal of '80s teen life. Chopping Mall does everything that Bait 3D didn't do recently and have total whackadoo fun with its thick-as-bricks plot. There's a proposed remake that, like so many "remakes" lately appears to merely be snatching a famous(?) title and rejiggering it with whatever the filmmakers wish. I'll stick with the original (I mean, what crazy way are they going to make mobile phones irrelevant to a new version?) and that episode of The OC where Ryan, Seth, Marissa, and Summer got trapped in the mall that one time.

Totes didn't have to even look up those character names from The OC. And I wonder why I'm single, ya know?

There's little more to Chopping Mall that I've already alluded to. Robots, previously designed to work as security for a modern, new age shopping mall, go haywire and start hunting down the people trapped inside. First the human security guards and then a janitor, followed very quickly by the eight teenage shop employees who were having a party in the furniture store. By "very quickly", I do mean very quickly. By the 35 minute mark it felt like the characters were gearing up for the big climax sequence. It goes by extremely fast, even for a film that's only 77 minutes long.

Jim Wynorski's film - Wynorski, by the way, who is now directing movies like Piranhaconda and spoofs called Cleavagefield - is actually surprisingly brutal. I figured it would be quite tame for some reason, but there are some quite violent deaths. There are electrocutions, throat slashings, laser wounds, explosions, plummeting elevators, head burstings, and even one poor gal getting set on fire! The "final girl" even leaps through a plate glass window at her own accord. The actor that gets her head blown off even gets the hilarious indignity of having her end credits screen grab be, er, well, this:


Are you not amazed?

The robots are quite ugly to look at, sort of with the appearance of a squashed penguin with its duck-bill laser shooter thingamajig and silly cardboard boxy exterior, plus the sound they make rather annoying. The dialogue, however, is thoroughly riotous with such ding dongs as "I guess I'm just not used to being chased around the mall by killer robots", and this delicious exchange between the virginal Kelli Maroney and Tony O'Dell: "Nice shot!" "My dad's a marine." And, really, that's just the beginning of Chopping Mall's, ahem, thrilling madcap fun. Oh, and can I just mention how glad I was my flatmate wasn't home during that pet store sequence? I was literally SCREAMING AND COVERING MY EYES! Neighbours could've heard me, I'm sure.

Of course, it wouldn't be an '80s slasher flick if it wasn't a lil bit of a flasher flick, too! While the hetero dudes in attendance got some pretty ladies to look at, and one - that'd be Barbara Crampton, I believe - that gets all tits outs for the boys kicks, it's the women (and, yes, the gay men) who get the prize picks. Four good looking guys, most of which are in a state of undress at some stage or other, acting mostly like sex-crazed teenage pigs and, ugh, kinda sexy. I have no idea who John Terlesky is, but can his 1986 self do some time travelling to right now and show up on my door step? His character is a total wanky douche, but who cares?





Shameless, I know, but what are you gonna do? Somebody needs to be out there screencapping 1980s horror for the male flesh as well, you know! I'd certainly never say no to Russell Todd either.


Chopping Mall! Your Fly Buys rewards card can't help you here! Can I watch it again now, please? B+

31 Horrors: Waxwork (#6)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

Well, I guess it's horror?

Actually, "horror" is probably about third down the list of genres that this odd concoction could be placed in. I'd probably describe Anthony Hickox's 1988 film as a fantasy comedy before horror, but its reputation is quite strong and I'd always wanted to see it so I did and I'm not above saying is something horror for the purposes of October when it really, kinda isn't. That I didn't particularly enjoy it is another thing altogether, but I'm probably not going to bother with the second, Waxwork II: Lost in Time. At least not in October, anyway. Unless someone can give a good reason to do so? CAN YOU? Probably not, yeah?

Obviously riffing off of André de Toth's 1953 shlocker, House of Wax with Vincent Price, Hickox's Waxwork is a bizarre film that takes a more comical look at a mad wax sculptor's efforts to complete his macabre works. Filmed with garish, bright colours and with repeated use of the hideous "fish eye" lens (remember The King's Speech?), Waxwork has a unique look coming at it today, but I feel like this was definitely a style at the time. Am I wrong in remembering Peter Jackson's early horror work had the same same easthetic? As the core cast of teenagers find themselves in scary ("scary") situations involving famous horror identities (Count Dracula, the Wolfman, the Marquis de Sade, Romero zombies, the Mummy, and so on) it takes on the attitude of a somewhat self-referential film like Wes Craven's New Nightmare, but filtered through grand guignol bombastics.


I didn't find its sense of humour particularly funny, I must say. With its oddball personality placed very firmly left of centre, I think it takes a particular mood to get into it. I found the obvious low budget particularly distracting, which is disappointing. I hate discouraging filmmakers with limited resources from going out there and attempting stuff that is as boldly inventive with story and narrative as Hickox was with this, but I just don't think he was able to pull it off. The obvious use of model sets, human actors whose breathing is clearly visible, and some less than convincing make-up effects only served to pull me out of the experience that he so clearly had the faith in. And that's before the acting! The effort is certainly there with a number of the set-pieces - although an Egyptian Mummy sequence feels a bit like a piss-weak afterthought - but without the resources to truly pull it off at the level that they really needed. Its intentional hokeyness - at least what I saw as intentional - was off-putting, too, and I routinely find this device used in low budget fare as a way of nudging and winking its way out of a corner. No such luck.

Still, I did find myself occasionally being pulled in. I particularly liked the Dracula sequence featuring Michelle Johnson and Miles O'Keeffe, and when the film sticks to wide shots it impresses on a visual level. The initial wax set-ups are really quite novel. I got a kick out of the anachronistic use of Lesley Gore's "It's My Party" over the end credits, and any film that includes cast members from Gremlins (Zach Galligan), Valley Girl (Deborah Foreman), Twin Peaks (Dana Ashbrook), and The Lord of the Rings (John Rhys-Davis) will always have at least some eye-popping retroactive niche value to it. As a pre-date to a lot of the films that seem to get people in a twist today (anything that remotely winks at audiences with references they can easily "get" and feel proud about; playing with alternate ideas of reality) it's of interest, but it sadly doesn't really work outside of that. C

I will say this though. Whoever did the casting on this movie did a great job. Apart from the aforementioned Galligan, Foreman, Ashbrook and Johnson, there's fun supporting work by Michu Meszaros (the man inside the ALF costume!), David Warner, Jack David Walker, and some really fine casting for Dracula. If you're casting a sexually provocative figure and famed seducer for a youth-leaning horror film then you may as well go sexy and matinee, yeah? Miles O'Keeffe as Dracula is, shall we put it, a quite attractive specimen. He was essentially Angel before David Boreanaz was ever on the scene.


Yes please, I'll take two!




...

Hmmm... maybe just one.

(photos nabbed via 'Male Vamps' blog, naturally.)

Monday, October 8, 2012

Review: Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights
Dir. Andrea Arnold
Country: UK
Aus Rating: MA15+
Running Time: 129mins

With the visual palate of a mud-stained grass paddock, and scored to the sounds of blustering gales across the British moors, striking adaptation of Emily Brontë’s classic novel, Wuthering Heights, from director Andrea Arnold, makes for a brutal, bruising 129 minutes. Taking the Brontë prose and stripping it of nearly everything but the bare essentials, Arnold’s film – co-written by Arnold and Olivia Hetreed – is one of the most visually and aurally stunning films in years, yet its harsh, and somewhat revisionist, take on the famed material will keep audiences expecting classy period fare at arms length. Styled to within an inch of its life, Arnold’s film is a thing of beautiful, poetic sculptural grace, but beats with a viciously angry heart.

Read the rest at Trespass Magazine

Sunday, October 7, 2012

31 Horrors: The Fog (#5)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

When finding films to watch this October, I scoured some friends' collections (as well as my own - a former habit of buying stuff sight unseen finally comes in handy!) and public libraries for some doozy titles. Along the way I became frightfully disappointed in myself that it had taken me so long to see some of these films (one upcoming title, however, I have deliberately been putting off, but I think maybe the time has come for it). In the case of The Fog I was triply upset with myself since a) I love Halloween, b) I've heard a lot of great things about it, and c) while I'd never seen the original I had in fact seen the dreadful remake from a few years back. I don't remember anything from it other that its complete awfulness and that it starred... I'm going to say Tom Welling, but I may be wrong.

Okay, a quick bit of research informs me that it was indeed Tom Welling. More research informs me that it was a disappointingly shirt-covered Tom Welling at that. What a jip.

So when I discovered my friend and neighbour had a copy of John Carpenter's 1980 original on Blu-ray, I jumped on it. Not literally, but you get the picture. Watching it right after the lacklustre French import, Livid (more on that on later in the week), I was so pleased. It's the best of the horror films I've watched this month so far and a very under-appreciated gem. Perhaps it's not spoken of much because Carpenter himself isn't overly pleased with it. The back story to this film is rather fascinating - a movie doing so many reshoots in today's day and age and the memory would haunt it, but did anybody going to see this effective horror thriller know anything of all that? Apparently a third of the finished product was reshot footage, amazingly, and Carpenter still thinks the film suffers from its low budget. I wonder if his opinion changed once he saw the remake he allowed to be made as a result. Yikes.

The story is particularly silly, but novel. Coming on the heals of the streamlined Halloween, The Fog actually does still feel like it's come from the mind of the same man. His way with a widescreen camera at the time for this genre was rather genius and gives the film such a grand scope when it otherwise mightn't have really warranted it. As a result, the beachside locals are gloriously filmed and I particularly adored that one shot of the lighthouse that I like to call a "Reverse Psycho" (below). Those opening shots - that seemingly go on for minutes - of the Californian coastal town of Antonio Bay look fabulous and do a wonderful job of setting up the story of a town that would justifiably be terrified of a rolling fog and who would spend their evenings listening to music that is best described as "smooth jazz muzak".


The original trailer doesn't make anything of a fuss about the film starring both Jamie Lee Curtis and Janet Leigh (something receated nearly 20 years later in Halloween H20), but I think it's pretty nifty. Curtis doesn't particularly do much, although hearing that famous scream again is wild, but Leigh is actually very impressive as a townslady intent on honouring a pack of murderous "patriots". Most impressive of all though is certainly Adrienne Barbeau as Stevie Wayne, Antonio Bay's answer to Rick Dees. She's a single mother (unexplained, thankfully, apart from a very minor reference to Antonio Bay being "better than Chicago") who uses her cosy radio-station-in-a-lighthouse set up to help her adopted town and especially her son. Although she foolishly sends the principal characters right up to the church on the edge of town where the fog is quite obviously heading. Silly Stevie!

Who would've thought that casting your wife in the plum role of your shoulda-been shlocky horror movie would pay such dividends. Barbeau, Carpenter's wife at the time, gives the role her all and gives the character such warmth and depth, without ever forgetting her place in a movie about a supernatural mist. I found myself watching this movie and wishing I lived in Antonio Bay where I could ask her to be on her radio program and play all the latest hits from 1980. She'd hire me, of course, because despite her preference for easy listening shite, she'd also be entirely hip and cool. Yes, these are the places my brain goes to. Also: I love how matter of factly Jamie Lee Curtis' hitchhiker falls into bed with Tom Atkins, the man who picked her up on the side of the road. That's love. And by "I love how..." I mean "I'm somewhat troubled by..." of course.

The Fog is certainly fun, and it has a fairly constant chilly vibe, although it is rarely SCARY in the way that, say, Halloween was and is, despite how many times I watch it. Several scenes have a palpable sense of dread, and the leprous ghost pirates look nifty so I consider it a big win. B+

Friday, October 5, 2012

31 Horrors: The Howling (#4)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

As surprising as it sounds, I had never seen "that werewolf movie with ET's mom in it", before last night. Oh, of course, I'd seen Philippe Mora's The Howling III: The Marsupials before, but not the original? Have you heard about that third Howling movie? It's the one that features Dame Edna presenting the Best Actress Oscar and the winner turning into a werewolf live on stage. Not to mention all of that werewolf ballet that goes on.


Wikipedia informs us that "Nicole Kidman was originally slated" for the lead role and we can only help she filmed a screen test and that one day it emerges online. One suspects a zealous producer updated that information with a porky, but we'll let it slide because the imagery of it is so deliciously absurd. Not quite as absurd as the critic quotes at the end of that trailer there, but absurd nonetheless. Anyway. ET's mom being chased by werewolves? Yes!

I had no idea upon pressing play on the Blu-ray that The Howling was about what it was about. I guess I'd figured it was another standard stalk-and-slash werewolf movie, but instead I found myself getting quite wrapped up in the story of a television news reporter and her attempts to cope with a profane stalker. The initial scenes set in a scuzzball Times Square pornography shop were surprising. Even more so was that extended shots of rape porn being played! They earned that R rating pretty early on, yes. It was certainly nice watching The Howling, which is about some smart people trying to solve a mystery - albeit, a mystery that some seem all too willing to believe rather quickly - rather than the more simplistic werewolf movie I assumed it was. Of course, thinking back on it, I've probably had that assumption about every singe werewolf movie I've ever watched.

The biggest mystery of all, of course, is how on Earth you Americans sleep at night? According to the movies and TV that I've grown up watching, y'all leave your bedroom curtains open all night so that perfectly angled light (moonlight? street lights?) can filter in and illuminate the room just so for filming. It's a wonder you can get any shut eye with such bright lights stretching across the bedroom in the middle of the night!

(I jest, of course, but it's always made me laugh so silly it is.)


I don't really have anything particularly observant to say. It's fun, Dee Wallace is Dee Wallace, there's some fun scary scenes, the ending is a hoot, and it looks great. I would have preferred more of the mystery solving angle, but that's just me and I always enjoy that type of stuff. It's Joe Dante, man, what else is there to really say other than, sure, it's not quite Ginger Snaps, but not many werewolf movies are. Hey! I never said I'd have anything good to say about these movies I'm watching.

Curious to note that, completely by accident, I've watched two films this October that deal with transformation from human to animal. First it was Cat People and now this. Actually, it's not really curious at all since so much of horror is about transformation, it's just that some films utilise it in a very literal fashion whereas others do not. Even The Signal and The Stone Tape were about transformation, but less so of the purely physical world and more sensory (memories into visions, sanity into madness). Hmmm...

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

31 Horrors: The Signal (#3)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

I had heard a lot of great things about this late 2000s telecommunication horror flick. Told in triptych form, this film features three directors and has some nasty tricks up its sleeve. I had had the film sitting here to watch for a while now, but the recent festival viewing of the abhorrent V/H/S lessened my desire to see it based on the name of David Bruckner. I needn't have worried (as much) as The Signal has plenty of ideas to make for an entertaining films and, despite the multiple director set-up, it mostly all works as a cohesive whole.

Obviously taking some, if not large swathes of, inspiration from George Romero's The Crazies (curiously, the remake of that film would come out two years after the cinema release of The Signal... art imitating art imitating art?), the premise sees people turning into violent monsters after an unexplained signal across televisions, telephones, and radio alters their minds. It's a fun idea and one that M Night Shyamalan had attempted to play with in the laughable The Happening that same year. Obviously the film is a rather boutique take on the idea given it's budget of only $50,000, but the writing is clear enough that the message of our dependance on these gizmos and gadgets comes across succinctly and with the right about of entertaining zing.

I could have done without such an overtly comedic tone in the second act - it's almost trying to get Shaun of the Dead level guffaws out of the audience, but they don't quite materialise as frequently as I imagine they had anticipated - but I found the first segment a wonderfully scary piece of work, and the final act a genuinely touching piece of bloodied drama. I enjoyed the way stories were worked in to one another, how characters came and went as they would in every day circumstances, and I think they made the central relationship between Anessa Ramsey and Justin Welborn was a to-and-fro affair with constantly changing dynamics. I also thought that, given the budget, the filmmakers made great use of cinematography and art direction. It can be hard to make a film made on this little money look genuinely post-apocalyptic, but these three directors (well, two, given the middle one was predominantly set inside the one interior set) made it work.

Also, this:


The Signal? Small, but with enough tricks up its sleeve to count. B

31 Horrors: The Stone Tape (#2)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

The Woman in Black this ain't.

Being such a fan as I am of Herbert Wise's 1989 British telemovie adaptation of The Woman in Black (of course, recently remade with Daniel Radcliffe, but nowhere near as good), I thought it of interest to go back a decade or two and watch another scary British teleplay that I had always heard good things about. The Stone Tape is directed by Peter Sasdy, but it shares a screenwriter with The Woman in Black in the form of Nigel Kneale. In fact, The Stone Tape is credited as "The Stone Tape by Nigel Kneale". This 1972 teleplay screened on BBC2 and follows in a tradition of "Christmas ghost stories" that aired on British television during the 1970s. It's a novelty of British 1970s television to read about especially since none of the features - of which The Stone Tape is only an unofficial member of as it was actually produced and (I think) screened under the banner of another anthology production, Dead of Night - have anything to do with Christmas. Would somebody care to explain?

Alas, as I have already said, The Stone Tape isn't exactly The Woman in Black. That one is, just quietly, one of my favourite scary movies. The Stone Tape as it turns out was more interested in being a sci-fi flick before a horror one, but even though I got some chills from that high pitched re-occuring scream - as well as that rather discombobulating final terror sequence with all the flashing lights - it left me more or less unmoved.


I'd be curious to see this film picked up for a remake. Like The Woman in Black and Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (another TV movie that I've never seen, which I need to rectify at some point), I can easily see it working in modern context. Although, it would probably be reframed as a found footage horror movie. If somebody does cough up the change for remake rights then can they cast Lucy Punch in the role of Jill, originally played by Jane Asher. The two look awfully alike, although her current IMDb photo looks like Mary Steenburgen. I'm also waiting for Lucy Punch and Anna Camp to star as sisters. I'm gettin' ideas, folks... also getting off topic.

So, umm, The Stone Tape? Average. It's definitely a British television production of the 1970s though and there's a lot of nostalgia in that aesthetic. Shame it wasn't particularly scary. C+

Monday, October 1, 2012

31 Horrors: Cat People (#1)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

This past Saturday I made one my regular appearances on JOY 94.9's The Saturday Magazine and this week's special topic was film-noir and vintage cinema with a keen eye on the queer subtext found therein (being a GLBTIQ oriented radio station that certainly makes sense). When co-host - and friend, fyi - Ben Rylan asked me to choose a film to discuss I naturally went to my favourite film-noir, Jacques Tourneur's 1942 masterpiece of feline shadow play, Cat People. The queer element drips off of the screen in that film and it was a joy (ow, my ribs!) to discuss. You can listen to the podcast by clicking on over here (it's the September 29 episode). It's a fabulous episode in its entirety, but if you have a specific desire to listen to my segment you can fast forward to the 45-minute mark. Apologies for, you know, everything about my voice and speaking and general lack of eloquence. You can also hear my housemate, the crowned "Queen of The Astor", Tara Judah discussing celluloid right before me. I can tell you're jealous just thinking about the conversations we have at home whilst in track pants and with terrible bed hair.

I've seen Tourneur's original Cat People many, many times, but I had never seen Paul Schrader's remake, which came to be some 40 years later in 1982. I figured what better time to actually watch it than now? I only had 9 minutes to talk on the radio, but all in the name of "research" and wondered what the remake would illuminate upon the original if anything at all. I admit to assuming that since the original film was so steeped in lesbian subtext, that Schrader - hardly a wilting flower in the face of sex - would up the ante and present it merely as pure text. I was genuinely surprised, however, to find that the '80s redux all but jettisons the lesbian angle outside of the two scenes that directly photocopy the original.


Paul Schrader, also an uncredited co-writer alongside Alan Ormsby, veers his rendition of the DeWitt Bodeen story away from homosexual "oddness" and more abruptly towards incest and general erotica. In fact, Cat People 1982 bares very little resemblance to Tourneur's film outside of general plot similarities and a couple of scenes here or there. The only scenes replicated by Schrader outright is the "my sister" scene, which is actually humourously fobbed off by the Annette O'Toole character as if to say once and for all that this isn't a faithful retelling, and the swimming pool stalker sequence that is more or less the centrepiece of the '42 edition. It's fitting that it's the best scene in this edition as well, although the leopard autopsy sequence rivals it for edge-of-your-seat "what's gonna happen?" suspense.

Cat People 1942 is a superbly stylish film, utilising the aesthetics of film-noir (albeit predominantly due to budget limitations, although it proved popular and Tourneur/Lewton utilised the same look for The Leopard Man and I Walked with a Zombie a year later and beyond including the famous Out of the Past). Schrader's rendition is also stylish, but almost in the complete opposite way. Rather than high contrast blacks, greys and whites, cinematographer John Bailey utilises incredibly bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Blood is actually quite minimal, but whenever it shows up - like Ed Bagley Jr's delightful arm excision sequence - it splatters in vivid clarity. When Natassja Kinski's Irena visits her brother's (a typically creepy Malcolm McDowell) workplace it is a church hall with rainbow colours (certainly a no go nowadays, yes?) When Schrader decides to recreate the swimming pool sequence, he uses fluorescence in a way that the original film never could.


The remake - much like, for instance, the 2003 "remake" of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, calling it a remake seems disingenuous - is certainly not an improvement on the original, but it works as its own curious beast. The Golden Globe-nominated score by Giorgio Moroder, and "Theme from Cat People (Putting Out the Fire)" by David Bowie(!!), are nice touches, but it is the original story that continues to impress most of all. It seems like such a silly premise, and yet it works because both filmmakers, Tourneur and Schrader, take it with absolute seriousness. Cat People '42: A; Cat People '82: B.

Review: Joyful Noise

Joyful Noise
Dir. Todd Graff
Country: USA
Aus Rating: PG
Running Time: 118mins

Sister Act meets Burlesque in the American south. As loglines go, Joyful Noise has a doozy. Throw in country music superstar Dolly Parton and rapper-turned-actress Queen Latifah and it’s almost as if the filmmakers were making a film designed specifically for my own heart. That the finished product from director Todd Graff (Camp) is somewhat underwhelming, undercooked, and under-written is disappointing, but that doesn’t stop the film having a delightful spirit that comes through loud and clear even when the direction doesn’t seem to care much about anything. Anything other than allowing Parton and Latifah to do their thing in between catchy gospel/soul ditties and cutesy simplified teen romance of its younger leads (Keke Palmer and Jeremy Jordan), of course.

Read the rest at Trespass Magazine

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Review: Lore

Lore
Dir. Cate Shortland
Country: Australia / Germany /UK
Aus Rating: MA15+
Running Time: 109mins

In the dying days of WWII, a mother to a seemingly affluent family with a husband whose supposedly still away at war fighting for the Third Reich, tells her five children that they must leave and seek refuge with their grandmother. As word of Hitler’s death filters across the European landscape, the mother departs her children to hand herself in to the new occupying forces and leaves the teenage Hannelore (Saskia Rosendahl in a fabulous debut performance) in charge. As they struggle to make their way across a divided nation that is crumbling around them, the children must join forces with a Jewish boy who makes Hannelore confront the prejudices that she and her siblings have been taught to adhere to for as long as they can possibly remember.

Read the rest at Onya Magazine

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Review: Make Hummus Not War

Make Hummus Not War
Dir. Trevor Graham
Country: Australia
Aus Rating: Exempt
Running Time: 77mins

In 1995, the hummus industry (such as it was) was worth around $5million in the United States. In 2012, it is worth over $400million. That’s probably the wildest fact from this small-scale documentary by local filmmaker Trevor Graham (AFI Award-winning Mabo: Life of an Island Man), and the one that, for whatever reason, stuck out the most and has stuck with me once the credits rolled. It’s probably a backhanded compliment to this film for such a random fact, slotted into the story late in the game with little fanfare, but it is the kind of information that seems so ridiculous that its mere mention was enough to perk me up when some of the film’s other elements failed to spark in a way to make me truly engaged.

Read the rest at Onya Magazine

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Review: Bait 3D

“Wanna see a movie?”

“What’s playing?”

“Bait 3D?”

“What’s that about?”

“It’s the one where a tsunami hits the Gold Coast and sharks end up inside a supermarket.”

This conversation can go one of two ways. The friend could think Bait 3D, the latest big budget Aussie flick to come along in an effort to snare more box office returns than critical adulation, sounds completely ridiculous and scoff at your notion. Or they could think it sounds completely ridiculous and want to be the first in line at the ticket counter. The end result of the film lies somewhere in the middle.

Read the rest at Trespass Magazine


Also, it should be noted that as I was doing "research" about the movie, I came across some images that I think are very important for judging whether to see this movie or not. I don't think it's spoiler territory to tell you that for a movie about people be drenched, there isn't anywhere near enough in the sexiness department.

This actor is Richard Brancatisano and when I saw him listed in the cast list I couldn't for the life of me remember who he was. Was he one of the early victims of the tsunami? No, then I remembered he features in the opening scene and then, er, is disposed of. Obviously the film doesn't utilise his considerable skills if I didn't even remember this. Not at all. Also this, this, and this.

Elsewhere, fans of Xavier Samuel get some surf lifesaver roleplaying inspiration, but little else. Hilariously, multiple characters tell him he "looks like crap". My kingdom for my version of "looks like crap" to be in the same beautiful universe as his. Alex Russell doesn't get much in that regards either, but he does get the best scene in the movie (a genuinely tense pipe crawl over shark-infested water) and he gets out of the film with his career unscathed. The same can't quite be said for Lincoln Lewis - who has a brief shirtless scene that was met with somebody over the other side of the cinema hollering "WOW!" - or Cariba Heine, Julian McMahon, or poor ol' Sharni Vinson who's called to drop to her knees in horror and scream "NOOOOO!" more times than I care to remember.


Yes.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Review: Your Sister's Sister

Your Sister's Sister
Dir. Lynn Shelton
Country: USA
Aus Rating: M15+
Running Time: 90mins

If you don’t know what “mumblecore” is (or was) then my describing Lynn Shelton’s Your Sister’s Sister as “post-mumblecore” will mean absolutely diddly to you. If, however, you’re familiar with the term and the filmmaking names and styles that arose out of the lo-fi, independent movement then my aforementioned description of this affably charming romcom will prove most apt. Shelton and her star/executive producer, Mark Duplass, have well and truly moved out of the shadow of mumblecore’s limitations and into the realm of wider public consciousness. It helps that an actor of Emily Blunt’s stature signed on to give this project star wattage, but the film is genuinely a major step up in terms of maturity and skill compared to Shelton and Duplass’ last collaboration, Humpday.

Read the rest at Trepsass Magazine