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1980s, 1987, A+, Grade, Horror, Past, Review, review-movie, supernatural, Thriller, Year

Review: Hellraiser

November 1, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Clive Barker
Principal Cast	Clare Higgins as Julia Cotton Ashley Laurence as Kirsty Cotton Andrew Robinson as Larry Cotton Oliver Smith as Monstrous Frank Sean Chapman as Frank Cotton Doug Bradley as Pinhead Robert Hines as Steve
Release Date	1987
Language(s)	English
Running Time	93 minutes

A man meets a merchant in an shop somewhere in the Middle East. He’s asked what his pleasure is. He responds that its the box with an intricate series of designs adorning it that sits on the table. He gives the merchant stacks of cash and purchases the strange item. The movie cuts to this same man, Frank, as he sits in almost meditative position, attempting to solve the box.

Frank (Sean Chapman) surrounded by lights in an almost religious meditative state trying to solve the mysterious puzzle box.

He pushes and pulls the pieces of it in various directions until it opens. Suddenly, bursts of electricity shoot out and hooks emerge from the walls around him, ripping his body apart in a gory display. A group of bald, pale faced creatures emanating a demonic yet angelic presence emerge in the room and push the box back to its normal configuration. All signs of gore disappear and the house is vacant once again.

Soon after, Frank’s brother, Larry, and his wife, Julia, show up to the house ready to move into it. They explore an empty room and find signs of Frank’s loitering – an unkempt bed, a porcelain figure depicting sex, and a series of photographs depicting Frank with a host of women, each depicting a deviant sexuality. As Larry goes down to call his daughter, Kirsty, and let her know that she should come visit the Cotton’s new homestead, Julia thumbs through the photos until the camera reveals that it’s not the sexual acts that interest her as much as the man engaging in them- Frank. She takes and hides a photo of him and leaves the room.

As he helps the movers settle the new place up with furniture, Kirsty shows up. Meanwhile, Julia goes up to the attic of the house, with her secret photo in her hand. She rips off the head of the women next to Frank. As soon as she takes this action, the sink Kristy is attending to bursts open. Coincidence? The movie seems to imply the opposite as the water shooting out the sink transforms into Julia reminiscing about meeting Frank so many years ago in the rain. As Kristy comes to ask for a towel, Julia points the way to the bathroom and disappears once again, eager to remember the man she truly misses. As Frank seduces Julia, tenderly touching her lips and having her reciprocate, his brother in the present attempts to move a piece of furniture up the stairs. Frank’s humping cuts to Larry grunting as he forcefully attempts to push the furniture causing him to catch his hand on a loose nail. Blood pours out as he rushes for his wife’s help. He finds her in the attic, breaking her journey into the past, and in sharp contrast to his assertive brother holds his hand out, ready to faint and begging for medical attention. She takes his hand, without any of the passion she showed Frank’s in the past, and calmly tells him they need to stich it. His blood drips onto the floor and mysteriously disappears underneath the surface. After the couple leaves the room, the floorboards shake once again as body parts slowly rebuild themselves in gooey and disgusting ways. Frank’s skinless body emerges, revived from the blood of his brother.

This montage is the story of Clive Barker’s Hellraiser – a women who can’t find passion in her marriage trading a facsimile of love for a lusty love with her partner’s brother. A brother coming and disrupting his brother’s life for his own satisfaction. Are the Hellraisers the Cenobites from the beginning who rip Frank apart, or are they the Franks that exist in peoples lives, ripping them apart for their own selfish whims and desires? Just as Frank burst into the newlywed’s marriage so many years ago taking his brother’s partner from him, he emerges in the household by taking his brothers blood. The brilliant editing and matching of elements – water from the pipes for rain, the tenderness of the erotic use of fingers between Julia and Frank versus the almost pitiful way Julia tends to Larry – tells you everything you need to know. This is a story about lust and the way perverse desires take control.

After discovering Frank’s body upstairs, Julia agrees to do whatever it takes to help him fully recover to his previous incarnation, even if it requires killing people to give Frank new blood- new fuel to regenerate the body that he had lost so long ago. This deviancy is reflected not just in the story and its progression, but in the plethora of intriguing and striking compositions that suggest and reinforce both a spiritual dimension to the hedonistic impulses of the characters and a perversion of a “normal” way of approaching pain and pleasure.

The image of the figures represent the duality of normalcy and deviancy – the action is the same but our perception of them differ radically. The “normalcy” of the sex by the couple on the left is changed into something perverse by the presence of the cockroach on the right.

Frank’s early tampering with the box evoke the image of ascetics of old flagellating themselves for spiritual enlighten, to control their inner desires. However, instead of seeking to curb his drive, Frank seeks to explore the uttermost limits of them. As he reveals, he opened the box because it promised to open doors to the “pleasures of heaven or hell. [He] didn’t care which.” The religious reference juxtaposed with the idea of pleasure as opposed to pleasure and pain makes it clear that hedonism is not the opposite spirituality. Pleasure can be found in both heaven and in hell. They’re two sides of the same coin – both promising a kind of liminal aesthesis – an agency that transcends the body and gives way to the soul. Obviously, it’s a radical idea tying in the practice of saints with the practice of sadomasochism, but the movie so finely repeats and plays with the connection that the torture porn it serves up gains a spiritual association.

This is best exemplified by the design of the Cenobites themselves. Despite only being on the screen for a short amount of time, they make their presence known and have endured as horror icons in the vein of Jason and Michael for a reason. In particular their leader, Pinhead, is absolutely a sight to see. As his name implies, his face is littered with a series of pins, both reflecting pain but also calling in images of acupuncture, a relief from pain. The circular shapes are littered along a linear grid, giving the otherwise macabre display a geometric aesthetic that’s oddly pleasing. Bradley adds to this mystique by speaking the characters otherwise terrifying lines with a sense of authority and coldness. It’s apparently clear that he’s in charge when he shows up, taking center stage, like a dark angel would.

Pinhead( Doug Bradley) radiates an authority and otherworldly beauty rendered horrifying by the presence of pins and body modifications.

As he tells the characters, the Cenobites have been known to be “angels to some, demons to others.” His appearance along with his cohorts serves as wonderful contrast to the heavy amounts of Christian iconography that occupy every inch of the Cotton household, with images of Jesus Christ appearing from everywhere, including hiding within a closet (how’s that for a queer deviancy?). There are so many small details that sell the realism from the spectacular lighting (the rooms become a hazy blue with cracks of light pouring in along with dust from their normal state) whenever the Cenobites show up to the way the floorboards take in blood and move.

The reason all these disparate elements come together as well as they do is the immaculate practical effects work being done. There’s a healthy amount of gore present- if the opening scene of Frank being ripped apart didn’t give it away- this is not the movie you should watch if you can’t handle blood. The way the flesh tears apart and the bodies are mangled and left emaciated will leave tingles running down your spine. Frank’s revival is one part disgusting and two parts fascinating as his entire body is slowly rebuilt in front of our eyes. It’s hard to imagine that hellspawn is not actually being born in front of your eyes. Skinless Frank looks like a real person who’s been ripped apart and oozing blood, when in reality it’s just an exceptionally thin Oliver Smith wearing a bodysuit . Likewise, the Cenobites themselves are a masterwork in both aesthetic design and actual presentation. None of the pins embedded in Pinhead’s face look fake and the mutilation present on the Cenobites’ bodies in general are disturbing, yet eerily beautiful.

Likewise, the performances are all on point and help develop the sensuous and kinky story in a way that doesn’t come off as farfetched. Chapman does a great job inducing and presenting himself as the asshole Frank is from the aggressive and confident way he positions and hold his body. Everything about him radiates a “bad boy” energy. Smith carries this over to his portrayal of the revived Frank, keeping the same “alpha male” personality but ramping the malice up to match the situation. Clare Higgins performance is the heart of the movie, given that her infidelity and desire for a heated romance, serves as the spark that moves the acts along. She absolutely nails the feeling of lust and dissatisfaction in the early montage when she thinks back to Frank and their night so many years ago. When asked to help revive him, she demonstrates both a tender affection for the skinless monstrosity and an eagerness to get the future she actually wants. Her character might just be looking for a good shag, but Higgins gives these motivations the desperation they need to make us care.

If I had a problem with the movie it would be with the way the final minutes of the movie proceed. There feels like a very clear cut off point that feels like its needlessly dragged out to induce some last minute tension and “will they/won’t they survive” thoughts in the audience, but the scares just don’t match the ferocity of what came before. In particular, there’s a focus on constantly utilizing the lighting effect that’s only briefly used throughout the movie to symbolize the Cenobites coming from the mysterious puzzle box. It looks corny and cheap compared to the stunning production of everything else and its overuse feels almost comical in the third act. On top of this, the nice shot compositions give way to a lot of extreme facial closeups along with some of the not-so-great practical effect creatures and it ends up making the last few minutes feel jumbled. Thankfully, this addendum gives way to a genuinely chilling final scene that’ll leave you chilled, so it’s not like the movie suffers a huge blow. It’s just a shame because of how perfect the film is up to this point.

Report Card

TLDR	Hellraiser is a bold and ambitious story that situates sexuality against spirituality to great effect. From the religious iconography to the absolutely spectacular practical effects, Barker’s’ feature debut has all the marks of a master work in horror, delivering on both the gore and the thought provoking idea that there is a kind of religious agency to be found in the liminal spaces of pain as pleasure. Whether you’re looking for healthy amounts of gore, deviant sexual and spiritual ideas, or a kinky horror movie, Hellraiser will “tear your soul apart.”
Rating	9.7/10
Grade	A+

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2010s, 2018, A+, Fantasy, Grade, Horror, mystery, Past, Review, review-movie, supernatural, Thriller, Year

Review: Suspiria (2018)

October 31, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Luca Guadagnino
Principal Cast	Dakota Johnson as Susie Bannion Mia Goth as Sara Simms Tilda Swinton as Madame Blanc/Dr.Josef Klemperer/Mother Helena Markos Angela Winkler as Miss Tanner Elena Fokina as Olga Chloë Grace Moretz as Patricia Hingleton Jessica Harper as Anke Meier
Release Date	2018
Language(s)	English, German
Running Time	153 minutes

NOTE: Some of the images contained in the review contain nudity that are NSFW. Please leave the page if you are not of a legal age to view the same.

NOTE: To those readers who have still not watched Dario Argento’s Suspiria , this review will be making quite a few comparisons between the two given that this movie is a remake. While I personally do not think these spoilers amount to anything crucial (Argento’s movie operates on a poetic logic that has to be seen and heard to truly understand the magic), I find it important to mention the same. With that out of the way, Argento’s classic is considered by many fans to be one of the greatest horror movies of all time. Within the past year, I’ve found myself completely entranced with the visual beauty and absolutely wonderful use of music. It’s a movie I consider near and dear to my heart. Making a remake of such beloved entry would be tantamount to cinematic insult if it did not do something genuinely worthwhile. Thankfully, I think Guadagnino’s re-telling feels less like a remake and more like a fleshing out of the narratively barebones original. Instead of focusing on spectacle to keep the audience’s attention, this updated Suspiria operates on a heavy narrative and thematic level, developing every tiny detail from the original in a way that both pays respect to the cinematic behemoth, while being more than capable of dancing on its two feet.

The movie opens in Berlin during the height of the German Autumn, a historical period fraught with revolution, counterculture, and tense political relations. The president of the German Employee’s Association, a former Nazi, is kidnapped by the Red Army Faction, a West German youth protest/terrorist group, in an attempt to force the West German government to release RAF members. Amidst these scenes of violence and protest a young lady, Patricia, makes her way to Dr. Josef Klemperer’s office. In his office are books by Carl Jung, a famous psychoanalyst who talked frequently about collective myths and the ways they permeate through social activity and consciousness. Obviously perturbed, Patricia talks in a seemingly nonsensical fashion obviously upset. She rambles about a song playing that the Dr. cannot hear and starts talking about a conspiracy happening involving witches grooming students at the dance academy she attends for some nefarious purposes. As she speaks the violence from outside continues to rage on. Klemperer writes in his notes that Patricia’s delusions have taken more power, convinced that she’s delusional. Patricia leaves the session but not before informing the doctor that these witches won’t hesitate to “hollow [her] out and eat [her] cunt on a plate,” if they realize she attended this session.

Then the movie cuts to an farm house in Ohio. The song, Suspirium, by Thomas Yorke plays as different shots of the house are shown. The movie cuts to a poster on a wall that indicates that a “Mother is a woman who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take”.

The framed poster in the religious household has clear political and gender implications when framed in the context of the rest of the movie’s theme and story beats.

As the scene continues to play out, it’s clear that a death has happened and the raspy whisper like singing from Yorke gives the whole scene an ethereal feeling. This isn’t even taking into consideration the lyrics which ask questions about dancing, agency, metaphysical darkness, and Motherhood. The juxtaposition between the political and psychoanalytic session in Germany with this quieter and more ethereal scene about death and agency in a religious community form the lifeblood of the movie.

In just 8 minutes, it’s made clear that political tension, insurgent forces, witches, motherhood, the relation between the individual and their society, and psychoanalysis all play a key role in what’s to come. With the subtext firmly established, the movie cuts to Susie, a member of the religious community, leaving for a prestigious dance company in Berlin – the same one Patricia mentioned earlier. She makes her way to the entrance to the school, which is directly next to the Berlin wall , both to highlight the divided sociopolitical period the movie takes place in and to suggest that the school is as divided as the country at the time.

Susie (Dakota Johnson) walks towards the school which is located right next to the Berlin wall, a constant reminder of both the external political conflict at play and the power struggle going on within the school.

As soon as she comes into the school, she’s made to do an audition with no music. Given that she’s come to the school during an irregular time with no prior credentials she must earn her stay, according to one of the senior instructors, Miss Tanner. In what I can only describe as eerily beautiful, Susie dances as though possessed by something supernatural. Her power radiates in every single movement, reverberating through the school with such ferocity that even the main instructor, Madame Blanc, notices and makes her way to the audition room. It’s clear there’s something different about this student – a dancer with music permeating her very being even if nothing plays in the background. With her clear display of skill it’s a no brainer that she makes it into the dance company. But as Patricia noted earlier, there’s definitely something afoot. In fact, Patricia has now disappeared, giving Susie the chance to move into her room at the facility. This disappearance serves as the inciting incident for the supernatural journey to come and given Patricia’s eerie warnings from earlier, sets the stage for the horror that will unfold. What follows is a slow burn that carefully cooks together this mystery along with the subtext to deliver a truly powerful film that seeks to be a period piece, a supernatural horror mystery, a commentary on female agency, a meditation on politics and the way they develop at a micro and macro level, with a healthy heaping of dancing to go along to tie it all together.

To those of you expecting to see violence (it is a Suspiria remake after all), the movie delivers what I would argue are scenes that are just as brutal and disturbing as the original, eventually ending in a way that makes good on its genre classification as “horror”. Unlike the original movie, however, the characters who are brutalized and made the victims of such violence are ones that we as an audience spend a lot of time with, so each of these acts hits that much harder. These moments are more spread out during the run-time, but I’d argue that the pacing in between makes them all the more effective as a visceral phenomena that refuses to leave the mind after watching.

To say the movie is ambitious in what it’s trying to achieve is underselling just what a monumental feat Guadagnino is attempting to deliver. Are there some missteps? Sure. Sometimes the movie feels like its a bit like its preaching to the audience to make them aware of the intricacies being developed. I personally would have liked the movie to lean less in the general politics of Germany of the time given how small it ends up feeling when everything is said and done. That being said, for every overt thematic nod there’s multiple clever and and subtle developments that might slip your attention on the first watch. The movie is so dense that I think you actually have to watch it multiple times or you end up missing on a bunch of small details that end up meaning quite a lot. That’s an attention to detail that’s rare in movies nowadays, let alone horror movies.

The constant reminder of the external political struggles enveloping Germany contrasts the internal political machinations going on in the dance school. The German public’s attempt at forgiving having a Nazi in such an important political position causes us to question the legitimacy hierarchies , big and small. The death of the mother at the beginning with the declaration that the mother is a leader who’s universal and irreplaceable takes on a new meaning when applied in the context of all female school going through a political struggle of its own, one where a student fearful for her life disappears . This combined with the presence of a Jungian psychoanalysis makes the connection between the disparate elements clear – are the hierarchies between the religious family, the dance school, and the German government similar? Are they all just reducible and manifestations of the same general consciousness- or are they distinct? The distinctive mention of the Mother and the all-females nature of the school adds a gendered aspect to this idea that attempts to situate the subjective experience of women in relation to an overarching structure. This is why the movie is as long as it is. There’s no way to explore this much without spending the time to develop each idea in depth. Too little time and things would end up feeling half baked. Too much and details would feel pedantic. By and large I think the movie hits a sweet spot in between.

While Argento’s original movie makes use of bright and vibrant colors to make every frame feel like a piece of wall art, Guadagnino prefers a more muted color scheme to reinforce the “realistic” nature of the movie. It’s not that he’s trying to hide the supernatural happenings – an early scene clearly demonstrates that the Witches are more than willing to brutally kill those who are a threat to their community through spells performed through intricate dance techniques. Rather, the movie treats its supernatural happenings as grounded in reality. It’s an difficult balancing act to be a period piece in one hand and a fantasy thriller on the other, but the movie walks that line in a way where each element builds upon and reinforces the other in a natural and conducive way. The story emphasizes this feeling in its narrative structure. One half of the movie follows Susie trying to move up the ranks of the dance school, her motives unknown. All this time, it’s made apparent that the witches want something from her in the same vein that they wanted from Patricia. The other half of the movie follows Dr. Klemperer as he tries to investigate the disappearance of Patricia. Despite thinking she was suffering from delusions, he’s very much concerned with her wellbeing and tries to investigate the school in relation to her whereabouts, in his own ways grounded in reality. The former is a story about magic permeating the real world and exploding in key moments throughout it. The latter is a story of the real world’s attempts at explaining and investigating supernatural phenomena in cultural and psychoanalytic configurations to make sense of the same. The push and pull between these two halves of the story is what keeps it feeling wholly unique – both grounded in reality and heightened by fantasy.

This feeling is emphasized in the visual design of the movie both in:
A: its use of mirrors and reflective services to emphasize the ever changing nature of perspective and interconnectedness between seemingly disparate story elements

B: the presence of surreal and fleeting dream sequences which inject the story with a good old fashioned serving of “what the hell is that?” and “holy hell, that’s frightening.”

In the context of reflective surfaces, their presence is made fully aware to the audience early on. There are mirrors absolutely everywhere. The room the dancers use to practice is filled with mirrors from every side, reflecting the movement of the bodies and their respective gazes- their hidden desires. Some mirrors open up to reveal hidden pathways. Others operate like one-way see-through glass panes, reflecting a subject while allowing people on the other side to gaze upon them without detection. One of the most interesting uses of mirrors is reflecting the shifting power dynamic between the dancers. Early on, when Susie first moves into Patricia’s old room she meets Sarah, a kind girl who immediately welcomes her into the academy. Their conversation takes place in front of mirrors and shows their faces normal, happy. As the movie continues and key events come to light, the mirrors reflecting their conversation become blurred and muddy, reflecting their changes in point of view both of themselves and one another.

In the first row Susie (Dakota Johnson) and Sarah (Mia Goth) talk to each other openly and with openness to one another upon first meeting one another. Their reflections in the mirror show they have an open and honest understanding of the other. In the second row, their conversation is mirrored and distorted, reflecting their changing perspective based on access to new information. The power dynamic has shifted with the new angle.

As Madame Blanc tells Susie later on in a 1-on-1 dance session, “[p]art of the issue always is not being able to see your body in space. One angle in one mirror or on film is not enough. ” Given the movie’s goal in connecting the outer political struggle to internal mystery and power imbalance, the mirrors serve as a connective tissue that reveal the way events can be connected, even if not immediately apparent- an ever shifting balance of knowledge and power.

Likewise, the eerie and flashing dream sequences keep the audience on their toes by displaying series of images that aren’t immediately capable of being interpreted. These moments feature breathtaking shots and compositions that are visually unnerving and thematically hefty. In fact, I’d argue a lot of the more disturbing and horrifying images happen in these moments. As the scenes flicker past one another, some of them coming onto the screen for only brief moments, it’s clear that the we’re seeing both the past and the future events of the movie from a different point of view. No image is out of place, but they refuse an immediate categorization in exactly what they’re supposed to represent. They give impressions of what characters have gone through and what is to come, with barely a hint of what images fall into what category. Like the mirrors, the Truth can only be revealed once the different perspectives coalesce to present a more complete and developed picture.

Nude women siting in chair and pointing to shadow.

However, the biggest reason all these elements can come together in such a profound and seamless way is because every single actor -big or small- gives a knockout performance. If any of these performances didn’t nail the mark, the tightrope walking the movie does would threaten to fall in on itself. I could spend pages just talking about the small nuances that every one of these leading ladies bring to their roles, but I’ll try my best to condense the same. Starring as the lead, Dakota Johnson brings an eerie ferocity to her performance as Susie. She radiates power and confidence without ever giving away what her true motivations or goals are. Her face is resolute but imperceptible. She can switch from cold and apathetic to kind and nurturing at a snap. In contrast, Mia Goth’s portrayal of Sarah is absolutely filled with a warm and radiant kindness. From the way she coyly smiles to the way she shows concerns for her friends to the subtle ways she holds her decorum in the presence of unsettling realities, she absolutely holds up as a symbol of warmth. Her scenes with Johnson are my favorite because of how well the two actors play off one another, taking a friendship that was barebones in the original movie, and genuinely elevating it and imbuing with a real sense of affection that then permeates and gives the movie a resonant emotional feeling .

That being said, this is Tilda Swinton’s show as she plays three of the main characters with absolute perfection. It’s hard enough to deliver nuance in one character, but she manages to give three live to three totally different characters and breathe a nuance and characterization to them that would make you certain that it was not one person running the show. As Madame Blanc, the primary dance instructor at the institution, she radiates power and charisma. She’s a hero in the eyes of the dancers both for her skill and her dedication to promoting a female empowerment. Watching her cold exterior give way to genuine care when it comes to interacting with Dakota gives the character a healthy level of depth. Despite being under a heap of prosthetics in her portrayal of Dr. Klemperer, she gives the old and weary psychologist a profound tenderness and sense of vulnerability. From the way she quivers her lips to the way she shows pain in her eyes, it’s hard to imaging that it’s not an actual old man playing the character. His character is what injects a lot of the story beats with a genuine emotional somberness that threatens to bring the audience to tears at times. I went into the movie not knowing that it was her playing multiple roles and could not believe that she had managed to pull it off so effortlessly until reading about the movie later. Given the importance of the characters she plays and the incredible amount of differences between them, I have to emphasize just how superb she is.

Madame Blanc and Dr. Klemperer are both played by Tilda Swinton. At a first glance, you’d never know it’s the same actor but that speaks to the level of the performance (and the makeup/prosthetics department).

Suspiria (2018) does what any remake should aspire to do – take the source material, explore it in new and distinct ways, and do this all without destroying the beauty of what came before. The way the movie takes the smallest elements – witches, the tale of the 3 Mothers, the dance academy, dancing as an art form, secret conspiracies- and blows them all up front and center is a testament to every member from the screenwriters to the actors. This isn’t a movie that shies away from comparisons with Argento’s work of art. Instead it works as a another side of the coin- a different perspective on the seminal work of horror. From the ethereal and wispy score by Yorke which serves as a foil to Goblin’s original bombastic rock score to the subdued color pallet and shot composition which contrasts the neon Expressionism that came before, this is a movie that’s not afraid to be different. Do I think all fans of the original will enjoy this? No. There’s a reason the reaction to the movie has been so polarizing. But those who are willing to consider a mirrored perspective to the original movie might walk away with appreciation for just how far a new angle can take a story.

Report Card

TLDR	Suspiria is one of the greatest remakes of all time , and that’s saying something given that it’s source material is considered, not just one of the greatest horror movies of all time, but a genuine masterpiece of cinema. The grounded story of witches based in Germany during the tumultuous German Autumn feels like a story that shouldn’t work, but the work put in by everyone from the screenwriters to the actors to the production staff is top notch and breathes life into this nuanced and fleshed out take on the original barebones story. Every small element from the original is pushed to new levels , both narratively and thematically, and watching the intersection of all the ideas coalesce is a treat to behold. This isn’t a movie for everybody. If you don’t like slow burn movies that take their time ramping up, you’re going to be disappointed. Likewise, if you’re coming in expecting an audio-visual treat on the level of Argento’s masterpiece you’re barking up the wrong tree. This movie should be seen as another side of the coin to the original. Where the original movie excelled in presenting breathtaking compositions bathed in neon colors, it’s definitely light on the story which is more so used as an excuse to present a stunning experience. This movie is far more focused on the narrative and fleshing it out in a way that gives it a meaningful heft that you’ll have to gnaw at over multiple viewings. If that sounds like something you
Rating	9.9/10
Grade	A+

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2000s, 2009, A+, Art House, Drama, Grade, Horror, Past, psychological, Review, review-movie, supernatural, Year

Film Review: Antichrist – 2009

October 31, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Lars von Trier
Principal Cast	Willem Dafoe as Him Charlotte Gainsbourg as Her
Release Date	2009
Language(s)	English
Running Time	108 minutes

Beautiful black and white compositions envelop the screen. An operatic musical theme, Lascia ch’io pianga, plays in the background. A couple played by Dafoe and Gainsburg make passionate love, genitals on full display. A moment of vitality. A moment of life. Unknown to them, their child leaves his crib. He wanders off towards to a work desk upon which three figures sit. These are the three beggars that will make up and divide the progression of the movie into its chapters: grief, pain, and suffering. The movie cross cuts between the images of the parents in the throes of sexual passion – their faces matched to similar expressions by their son as he climbs up onto the windowsill above the desk and makes the plunge below.

Child with his head back as he falls from window.

A moment of death during a moment of happiness. Good and bad juxtaposed against one another. Are they independent of one another or does the presence of one necessitate the other? This attempt to find meaning in the face of such pain serves as the thematic thrust that moves the story along as the couple attempts to deal with their newfound loss.

The nameless couple grieves for the loss of their son as the movie turns from black and white to a muted color palette that reflects the loss of light in their life. The formalistic compositions give way to a handheld camera that reflects this newfound chaotic injection. The male, an agent of rationality, sees the events as separate and attempts to systematize the chaotic turbulence he and his wife are experiencing. The death of their son is a tragedy , but is not the end of the world. The female, an agent of emotion, sees the events as inextricably tied to each other and struggles to understand how such evil can happen in a world. How can a child be lost so easily? While He gets over the death fairly quickly his wife slips into a state of depressive anxiety. She experiences twitching eyes, dryness in her throats, a reining in the ears, sweating on her neck, and shaking in her fingers. As the physical manifestations of her suffering wreak havoc on her body her husband reminds her that she’s not going through anything metaphysical. It’s all just a physical response to an event. It’s rooted in the naturalistic world of science and as such should be codified through the symbolic registers of psychology. His attempts at help can be read as heartfelt attempts at helping his partner. They can also be read as an misogynistic attempt at controlling her behavior as he dictates what she “really thinks” and really feels, ignoring her feelings in favor of his own interpretations.

She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) experiences an anxiety attack and is put off by the strong physicals response to her suffering. Her husband quickly codes the images of her suffering as just symptoms of anxiety, casting aside the pain as a natural medical phenomenon in an attempt to explain it.

The movie even reflects this feeling early on when he convinces her to stop receiving care from a hospital in lieu of engaging in therapy with him. He is after all a psychologist who’s better than any doctors. How could he not know his own wife better than trained professionals? The film breaks the 180 rule (maintain the spatial placement of actors and the direction they’re facing) by having him occupy the space his wife is in, demonstrating that he’s taking charge of the situation. It reflects the way her agency is placed to the wayside as she’s made to reflect the desire and whims of her partner. This battle for agency, for determining who’s view of the world is correct, becomes the backdrop the movie plays on.

This breaking of the 180 degree rule demonstrates the power struggle at play. He (Willem Dafoe) literally takes her (Charlotte Gainsbourg) subject position as he explains to her why the doctors she’s currently seeing in the hospital aren’t good at enough at taking care of her. He subsumes her agency and makes the decision for Her in relation to what her future care will look like.

In an attempt to get her back to normal, he decides to take the two of them to their cabin located in woods, aptly titled Eden. In the Bible, Adam and Eve, a he and she, are cast aside from the forest for eating the fruit of knowledge and to prevent them from eating the fruit of life. In this tale, he and she, go to the forest to confront an irrationality concerning an cruel death. A paradise for the progenitors who are supposed to be ignorant becomes the destination for healing a similar couple through the power of knowledge. With a title like Antichrist, it’s hard not to come into the movie thinking it will be about faith and religion, but that thought quickly gives way as it becomes clear that the movie is Von Trier’s response to the problem of Evil.

How can evil exist in a world where God is the creator? How could a good and righteous entity focused on the preservation of peaceful bliss allow chaos to reign. This is alternative theology, enacted by two nameless characters who serve as a stand in for men and women in general, that plays like an inversion and deconstruction of the tale of Genesis. The three beggars parallel the three wise men. He is a stand- in for Adam. She is a stand-in for Eve. Eden is a place of fear as opposed to a paradise. The religious background and connections are never made explicit but merely serve as the thematic heft that makes the story progress from beat to beat. The psychological violence He hurls at Her at the beginning in his attempts to psychoanalyze her are met with her similar physical attempts at violence in the latter half of this movie. Speaking of which, if the dying baby at the start didn’t give it away, the movie goes to some fairly dark and depressing places and that’s reflected in some intense and brutal scenes of violence. However, given the progression and beats the story delves into this violence is necessary and though its depiction is graphic, it never comes off feeling gratuitous or without a purpose.

The main conflict between the He and She reminds me of the main couples’ dilemma from Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now (rationalism vs affective connection in the face of a child’s death) combined with the couple from Andrzej Żuławski’s Possession (metaphysical tug of war for control in the relationship). Like both of those movies, the performances from the main actors are astounding with both of them clearly giving 110%. Dafoe is unrelenting in his attempts at maintain control of the situation but plays it off in a way that feels understandable . There are misogynic tones if you read into the way he acts, but at a surface level glance his actions feel relatable to an extent. The balancing act to simultaneously be an asshole but not deplorable is a tough one one to find, but he somehow manages to deliver it. Gainsbourg absolutely channels a shrieking devastation going from riddled with anxiety and being panicked to becoming strangely unnerving and unhinged as the movie progresses to its natural conclusion. Her emotional intensity provides a sharp contrast with Dafoe’s and helps clearly delineate the couple’s thoughts and subsequent actions. Some of the actions she takes in the latter portion of the movie might feel overblown but feel authentic due to her precision and execution. Together they infuse the movie with the emotional energy it needs to hit the devastating punches it delivers to the audience.

Likewise the cinematography by Anthony Dod Mantle and musical choices by Kristian Eidnes Andersen give the movie a texture that lets it ooze out a palpable discomfort. Mantle deftly switches from handheld during the realistic and grounded scenes to a steady and formalistic style during the surreal and dreamlike sequences. Going from the character’s talking to one another to their respective headspaces creates a poignant whiplash that keeps audiences on their toes while providing a visual splendor that feels revolting giving what’s going on. This movie makes the death of a child look beautiful and if that’s not saying something I don’t know what is. Andersen provides less of a score and more of an impressionistic musical accompaniment to the visuals. Outside of the operatic theme that plays during the beginning and ending of the movie, there’s less of a discernible score and more of a rhythmic feeling that amplifies the disturbing visuals on display. Never does this use of music overwhelm the scene. Instead, it operates in the background like wallpaper for the ears, giving the movie an auditory texture that keeps it flowing.

Antichrist isn’t a movie for everybody. It’s dark and goes to emotional places that won’t leave you in the most pleasant place after the viewing experience. The psychological beatings from the first half will make those who have been victims of gaslighting feel a certain kind of way. The physical violence from the second half will certainly induce a squeamish anxiety that will refuse to settle. However, those who are willing to endure the provocations will find a moving and thought provoking look into humanity, it’s place in the world, and the species attempts at finding meaning in a chaotic and unforgiving world.

Report Card

TLDR	Antichrist is my favorite horror movie of the 2000’s decade (2000- 2009) for good reason. The dark and unsettling tale plays like a response to the classical philosophical problem o f evil – how can God be reconciled in a world where evil and chaos seem to strike at every opportunity? How can evil can strike at the most peaceful of times ? The death of a child cut against the lovemaking session of the child’s parents set the question in motion and watching the grieving couple navigate the labyrinth of meaning to find an answer is something that has to be experienced. The performances by the unnamed leads are emotionally resonant and each actor brings their A game to this alternative theology. If you can stomach some graphic violence and enjoy movies with arthouse proclivities, strap in for this one of a kind ride.
Rating	10/10
Grade	A+

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1970s, 1973, A+, Grade, Horror, mystery, Past, psychological, Review, review-movie, supernatural, Thriller, Year

Review: Don’t Look Now

October 3, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Nicolas Roeg
Principal Cast	Julie Christie as Laura Donald Sutherland as John Sharon Williams as Christine Nicholas Salter as Johnny Hilary Mason as Heather Clelia Matania as Wendy Massimo Serato as Bishop Barbarrigo Renato Scarpa as Inspector Longhi
Release Date	1973
Language(s)	English
Running Time	110 minutes

A little girl, Christine, runs along in her shiny red raincoat, playing with a ball near an ominous looking lake. Her brother, Johnny, who’s biking near her, runs over a glass surface and breaks it. An unlucky omen. Their father, John, turns in his seat, almost as if aware of the disturbance despite being firmly positioned in his house. Johnny looks at his bike, attempting to figure out the damage done to it. He looks back and sees his little sister in the background, clearly visible next to the lake.

Johnny looking back on his sister, ensuring that we , the audience, are aware that she’s present but far away and precariously close to the body of water.

Christine tosses her ball up and the movie cuts to John tossing his wife, Laura, a pack of cigarettes. Christine’s ball drops into the pond creating a splash and the movie cuts back to John as he spills a glass of water over a slide he’s looking at.

The slide John is looking at before he spills water over it. it depicts a short figure clad in a shiny red raincoat sitting in a Church.

Psychic connections and shared actions. An insert of the ball floating without Christine. Her missing presence tells us all we need to know before the movie cuts back to John looking at the damaged slide.

The slide once hit with water starts to bleed color, as a running red trail develops and starts to flow from the little red figure.

The slide which up to this point depicted a small figure adorned in a shiny red raincoat transforms into a bloody mess, as the water spreads the red color around like a pool of blood. John moves towards the outside, as though he knows something awful has transpired. Laura picks up the slide, takes a quick look, and tosses it on the couch seat next to her. A quick cut of Christine’s unmoving body in the water is followed by Johnny running to get his father.

Christine’s body floating limp in the body of water.

It’s clear what’s coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch. As John jumps into water the movie constantly cuts between him howling in pain, holding his daughter’s corpse and the slide, whose red color continues to expand. The music is daunting and ominous until suddenly an uplifting melody plays. At this moment, the slide transforms once more as the red flow of water becomes a rainbow of colors, almost like a beam of light through a prism.

The slide almost fully covered in the water and its effects. The figure is blurred out of sight. Only the colors it provides remain, but the red has transformed into a spectrum of colors . The base image has been fully transformed through the water “bending” the initial image.

John gets out of the water and tries to resuscitate Christine, but it’s far too late to do anything for her as she is. Mustering the last bit of strength in his body, he moves towards the house, barely coherent as his face contorts in pain. Laura sees him coming the window holding their dead daughter and screams. This scream transforms into the sound of a drill as the movie cuts to the couple in Italy, the main location for the rest of the movie, and the place where the couple’s respective journey to deal with the pain of their loss starts.

This almost 8-minute opening perfectly encapsulates everything that makes up Roeg’s masterpiece, Don’t Look Now. It’s a story about grief, hardship, and suffering. That much is obvious from the drawn out and emotionally devastating depiction of Christine’s death and her parents’ subsequent responses. The use of both visual and auditory match-cuts reinforces the psychic relationships between seemingly unrelated events and the way that aspects of life can bleed into and affect one another. The visual representation of the transforming slide highlights the way perspective and time can alter the way images are perceived. At first, it’s a plain image that John looks at curiously – the object of interest not immediately understood by the audience. Then the small red figure transforms into a blood spiral. A premonition of the violence to come. But interestingly enough, Roeg doesn’t stop here. He lingers on the slide until the blood red flow transforms into a shining rainbow. This combined with the uplifting melody that plays immediately before it suggests that the image can be read in another way. In another light. A refraction of sorts. Almost like truth is perspectival and something that can’t be ascertained in the moment. This is confirmed by the final match cut, this time auditory as opposed to visual, which transforms Laura’s scream into the sound of a drill being used at John’s new place of employment. Now it’s impressive enough that this level of seamless editing and visual and auditory storytelling could be sustained in such a cohesive manner for 8 minutes.

However, what makes this movie a true cinematic tour-de-force is that it continues to expand and build upon all these of these ideas for the rest of the near 2-hour run-time in a similar fashion. The movie never lets up in its use of immaculate cross-cutting to constantly reinforce the idea that life is an accumulation of elements that circle around one another in a series of interpretations and re-interpretations. The early motifs involving water, reflections, refractions, duplicate images, and psychic connections are all pushed to their poetic limits to create a finely tuned tale that constantly subverts your expectations in the best way possible. Through its use of consistent visual motifs, the movie manages to use flashbacks and flashforwards in ways that feel integrated into the very essence of the narrative. A body of water transforms into rain which transforms into grey colored eyes, connecting fragments of the story happening at different times and in different places. Nothing feels out of place because the “place” you’re watching is constantly transforming before your eyes. Just like the slide, the end goal/image can only be understood by watching the story’s full progression up to that point and even that understanding is open to interpretation.

At the heart of the story is the tale of a couple desperately trying to communicate with another and recover from the grief and emotional devastation caused by the loss of their child. John’s new job involves moving to Italy for a while as he helps to renovate an old dilapidated Church. While having lunch with Laura, he runs into Heather and Wendy, two sisters who seem to show a heavy interest in the grieving couple. The former, who happens to be blind, claims that she’s a psychic who can see the spirit of Christine. She tells Laura that her daughter is happy and “with” the couple. This affirmation in some kind of spiritual afterlife along with the image of her happy daughter brings Laura out of her depressive state. She wholeheartedly puts her faith in the two strangers and their proclamations and finds a newfound energy that gives her back a sense of meaning. When she mentions this to John, the latter scoffs at it as foolish and quite literally walks his own path away from Laura. He refuses to entertain the idea that his daughter could still be “there” and closes himself off more.

Laura attempts to persuade John to give the sisters a shot so that he can begin to heal like her.

This sharp contrast between the two exemplifies the subjective nature of responding to grief and how being open versus being closed can lead to radically different conclusions and actions. Throughout the movie, John continues to be closed, suspicious, and unable to openly say what he wants to say. This is a characteristic that’s demonstrated by all the men in the movie from his employer, Bishop Barbarrigo to a police inspector, Longhi. On the other hand, all the women in the movie are open and cordial with one another, operating with good faith with respect to one another. As the plot progresses and interactions between different sets of characters occur, the effects of one’s predisposition towards possibility and openness become far more pronounced. Male to male communication scenes are awkward and cold. Women to women communication scenes are open and receptive. Added to this jumble is Roeg’s genius decision to not include subtitles for any of the Italian spoken in the movie. That’s right. A movie set in Italy, with only a few English-speaking characters, has no subtitles for what the majority of the background characters have to say. There are multiple scenes of John communicating with town folk in Italian and it’s impossible to determine if he’s actually saying something meaningful or just getting confused. The lack of subtitles also amplifies the uneasiness we feel, because like John, every interaction is an “unknown.” This means that we, the audience, have to make a determination on what characters intentions and actions really entail. Like John, we can be suspicious and read the situations with a cold rationality. Or like Laura, we can read the situations with an intuitive and affective sensibility.

Of course this level of emotional resonance would only be possible if the actors involved were capable of bringing a wide range of affective reactions to the situations that unfold. The way Donald Sutherland expresses his grief in early scenes and rage in later scenes is not only wholeheartedly believe but emotionally devastating. It hurts to watch him suffer and anguish in the guilt he feels over Christine’s death. Serving as a counterbalance of sorts, Julie Christy brings a genuine sense of life and and joy into the scenes she’s in. From the way her smile lights up in her eyes as she plays with children in a hospital to the jovial enthusiasm she exhibits while talking to the sisters, she becomes a beacon of hope in an otherwise dour and depressing movie. Hilary Mason’s performance as the movie’s “psychic” is what brings Sutherland and Chrisy’s range together as her depiction of psychic happenings simultaneously feel staged and genuine. The way she contorts , moves, and emotes during these moments feel overtly theatrical and I remember thinking her character was full of it during some scenes and incredibly trustworthy in others. It’s her duality that allows the interpretative schema that underpins the stories logic, narrative, and position respective to the audience to work out. Without all 3 actors nailing their scenes, the attempt at placing the audience in the position of following John versus following Laura , of following cold rationality versus open affectivity, would fail. It’s all about opening up the scene to interpretations.

Things are never what they really seem and becoming steadfast in one perspective destroys the possibility of seeing things through other perspectives. The best part? The movie ends in the same way it began- an immaculate set of cross and match cuts that tie all the strands of the story and themes together in a way that still leaves things up to interpretation. Even after multiple re-watches of this movie, I can honestly say I don’t have it all worked out, but that’s the point. If I did, I wouldn’t have as much watching the movie over and over again.

Report Card

TLDR	Don’t Look Now is one of the best edited movies of all time and manages to make every cut and transition matter. The way the narrative plays with time and perception through its innovative motifs – reflections, refractions, and duplications -is something in a league of its own and transforms this tale of grief, despair, and recovery an impressionistic masterpiece that one needs to experience to believe. If you love movies, you owe it to yourself to watch this one. If you’re a horror fan, that goes doubly for you. There’s rarely a movie that so masterfully combines all of its elements to create a narrative that simultaneously ties up every loose end while leaving them open.
Rating	10/10
Grade	A+

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1970s, 1979, A+, Grade, Horror, monster, Past, Review, review-movie, Science Fiction, science fiction horror, Thriller, Year

Review: Alien

October 2, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Ridley Scott
Principal Cast	Sigourney Weaver as Ripley Tom Skerritt as Dallas Ian Holm as Ash Veronica Cartwright as Lambert Yaphet Kotto as Parker Harry Dean Stanton as Brett John Hurt as Kane Bolaji Badejo as the Alien
Release Date	1979
Language(s)	English
Running Time	117 minutes

It’s hard writing a review about a movie that’s gotten as much love and adoration as Ridley Scott’s Alien, but I’ll try my best to persuade the few of you out there who haven’t seen it to give this masterpiece a go around. The story of a small commercial space crew who receive orders to investigate an alien spaceship and who subsequently come into contract with a hostile alien species seems like a simple narrative meant to provoke fear. Like the release poster says,” In space no one can hear you scream.” It seems like a no brainer as to why such a story could be so scary. However, a slew of Alien based knockoffs and even some of the franchise sequels indicate that its not just a simple and well executed narrative that makes this movie from the 70’s so enduring as classic in both the horror and science-fiction genres. Underneath the narrative is a hefty amount of subtext, painstakingly interwoven in the movie through the use of immaculate creature designs, pristine lighting, top notch set design, and a soundtrack that’s perfectly suited to transporting the audience into the affective territory of fear.

From the moment the title screen opens, the movie makes it clear that there’s more than meets the eye. As letters slowly appear on the screen spelling out the title, Alien, the camera slowly pans across an oblong object instead of a traditional circle object which would be more inline with what we’d expect from space – planets, stars, and the like.

This is the title track as the camera moves left to right and finishes covering the egg/oblong. The discoloration near the L is the outer boundary of the egg.

This egg like shape sets the stage for the thematic meat at the center of the story – sexuality and our relationship to it. From this egg like shape the camera slowly moves through the Nostromo, a commercial space vehicle with a crew deep in sleep. However, after a distress signal is received from an outside source the ship’s computer, aptly named Mother, sends a signal to wake the crew up. The camera then moves to the crew as they wake up and emerge from a series of oblong, egg-shaped pods.

The crew of the Nostromo waking up from their egg/oblong shaped pods.

After giving us a few moments to get to know the members of the crew the movie quickly moves to getting them to respond to the signal. A small subset of the crew is led by Kane, an executive officer, to investigate the source of the signal and to determine if anyone needs help. Unfortunately, for the members of the Nostromo, Kane discovers an oblong egg-shaped object with a cross symbol (religious heresy at its finest) in the middle, that shoots out an alien species which immediately latches onto his body.

Despite quarantine protocol dictating that he be left behind and not allowed back onto the ship Ash, the ship’s scientist, overrules Ripley’s, the warrant officer, command to follow the same and allows the expedition crew and a grievously injured Kane back aboard. This subsumption of authority is quickly brushed aside by the rest of the crew due to Kane’s condition, but it sets up the “war of the sexes” power dynamic that guides the rest of the movie. Ripley, one of the two female crewmates, has her orders ignored to save a crewmate despite orders. Kane, a male, is then shown with the “face hugger” alien aptly covering his face. With its phallic tail coiling around Kane’s neck and a tube running from its body down his throat, the scene utilizes sexuality – particularly a male on male oral rape scene- as a method of genuinely scaring the audience.

Kane with face hugger attached. The phallic coil slithers around his neck provocatively as the creature inserts itself down his throat.

The deviant sexuality is literally weaponized and works in horrifying because it A- depicts rape and B- masks that depiction through an alien organism that pulsates and oozes in an incomprehensible way. As the alien creature matures throughout the movie, it takes on more and more pronounced male and female sexual characteristics, transforming into an amalgamation of deviant sexuality that actively violates and threatens the crewmembers. This relationship to sexuality is developed by other characters’ attempts at reining in control over the situation and their attempts at fighting back the alien. Like the face hugger scene, none of these sexually violent images are overt but rather work on the level of suggestion and repetition. Eggs, phallic shaped objects, liquids gushing and oozing, penetration, and the like all work to trigger off a sub-conscious response that plays off our fears of sexuality, violence, and the forces inner workings. H.R. Giger’s aesthetic choices are what turn Alien from a superb thriller, into a deeply thought-provoking look at the way sexuality is coded and linked to power. None of the images overtly force us to think about things in this way, but their suggestive power combined with the setup of the plot makes those connections operate in the back of our minds leading to some genuinely frightening moments.

The story also does a great job of positioning the Alien in relation to humanity/animality by constantly juxtaposing the creature with both the human crewmates and the crew’s cat, Jones. At first glance, Jones can be written off as a minor character whose only purpose is to get crewmates put into precarious situation. However, a closer reading reveals that compared to the Alien’s overtly sexual and violent predatory practices, Jones is docile, restrained, and something that crew actively wants to protect. Jones isn’t just a cat. Jones is the inverse to the Alien – a sexuality that can be understood and controlled in a sense. The fact that the cat conveniently appears in so many scenes where the Alien pops up isn’t a coincidence as much as it is Scott’s attempts at making the audience piece together the connections. This becomes even more pronounced in the last act of the movie which does the best job of visually depicting the importance of Jones as a counterbalance.

*Two sides of the same coin- Jones and the Xenomorph are different instantiations of a predator- docile and known versus violent and deviant*

Put together, this is why the Alien creature (the Xenomorph) works so well. It plays off our natural fears of sexual violence through its increasingly disturbing amalgamation of female and male sexuality. Its attempts at gaining control and overpowering the crewmates ties back into the earlier instantiation of sexualized power hierarchies and depictions of agency. It’s juxtaposition against Jones highlights just how much about it we don’t know, understand, and are unable to control. As a result, the creature works perfectly as both a thematic and visual depiction of true horror.

Obviously, none of this sub-text would be relevant if the movie itself did not work on the level of its plot. The simplicity of the overarching narrative lets all the thematic elements become part of the stories identity as opposed to feeling like some postmodern meaning soup. Every element plays into one another and is highlighted through Scott’s impeccable visual storytelling as opposed to preaching to the audience through boring dialogue. From the way the spaceship looks all dark and dilapidated to how the alien planet looks musty, cloudy, and damp its clear a lot of effort went into creating a believable outer space. It’s astounding to think this movie was made back in 1979 because it holds up incredibly well even now. Outside of the superb aesthetic direction and wholly realistic looking set pieces, the movie excels in its use of lighting. Scott knows just how much to show you and the flickering light effects in the latter portions of the movie do a great job of exemplifying just how hidden and nefarious the Alien really is. It’s not that he’s afraid to show you the creature. Not at all. Trust me – you get to see every disgusting and skin crawling aspect of it by the end of the movie. It’s more that he wants you to be genuinely unnerved by it. He wants you to be staring at the creature in plain sight and not know that you’re looking at it. What’s scarier than not knowing you’re looking at the monster the whole time? Because the dialogue is so witty and does a great job of establishing the characters’ personalities and motivations it becomes hard to not become attached to the crew and place yourselves in their shoes. That’s why the revelation that you, like the crew, were incapable of finding the monster first is chilling. Because you would’ve died to.

Speaking of the crew members, every single member of the cast delivers a performance that has you wholeheartedly believe that they’re members of an actual space expedition and that they’re on another day on the job. From the constant bickering about payment to the lively banter between them, its easy to forget that everyone’s acting. Sigourney Weaver is great as the lead and manages to give the warrant officer equal helpings of raw humanity and genuine badassery. She can quickly go from panicked in the face of the Xenomorph to eager and ready to destroy it. Without her walking through some tricky emotional tightropes with precision, the emotional and thematic weight of the movie would not hit nearly as hard. I love Holm’s performance as Ash and think he does a great job at both acting as a foil to Weaver and at carrying along some fairly important story beats. Kotto and Stanton’s bantering is a genuine treat to watch near the start of the movie and provides the audience with much needed levity before things actually start going off the rocker.

From the script to the acting to the set design to everything in between, Alien never manages to disappoint. This is truly one of the movies I think you could call “perfect” and not get an eyeroll from everyone in the room. It’s a masterwork in the Science-Fiction and Horror genres and its ubiquity in pop culture (I’m looking at you Avengers:Infinity War) necessitate a watch from movie fans in general. It’s scary, thought provoking, and equal parts beautiful and disgusting to watch.

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TLDR	If you’re a fan of movies, you owe it to yourself to watch Alien. Rarely is there a movie that so perfectly manages to progress a message through its narrative, visual and sound design, and character progression. Despite being made in 1979, the movie looks, feels, and operates better than most things coming out now. The story of a space crew trying to fight for their lives against a horrifying alien is entertaining enough, but the treasure trove of subtext that lies beneath each and every frame make this a movie worth re-watching and studying. There’s so much *more I could gush over , but I really do think some things are better experienced than explained. That’s a lesson Alien* taught me well.**
Rating	10/10
Grade	A+

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2000s, 2007, A+, Black-Comedy, Comedy, Grade, Horror, Review, review-movie, Year

Review: Trick ‘r Treat

October 1, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Michael Dougherty
Principal Cast	Quinn Lord as Sam Dylan Baker as Principal Wilkins Anna Paquin as Laurie Brian Cox as Mr.Kreeg Samm Todd as Rhonda Leslie Bibb as Emma
Release Date	2007
Language(s)	English
Running Time	82 minutes

Trick R’Treat has been my go-to Halloween movie since I first saw it back in the early periods of high school. Since that first watch through, I’ve seen it once a year every year always on the 1^st of October to get myself amped up for the rest of the month. No other movie so perfectly manages to capture the quintessential aspects of Halloween while telling them in a way that makes full use of every trick or treat in the book. This is a movie that’s simultaneously heartwarming, hilarious, and horrifying all while staying true to the spirit of the holiday.

This is majorly due to the ingenious script and direction by Michael Dougherty, who somehow managed to create an anthology movie that makes full use of all its parts and sub-stories to create a one-of-a-kind narrative that constantly keeps you on your toes. That’s right – this is an anthology movie that actually works as a cohesive narrative despite lacking any “real protagonist”. The movie starts off with a small instructional video tape that quickly warns its supposed audience to follow the rules of the Halloween before cutting to the “real” story.

It’s a short and quick reminder to the audience – the rules are important and the rules determine everything. The rest of the movie is just a warning for those foolish enough to not heed the easy-to-follow instructions, which thankfully for the audience, happens to be the majority of the characters we follow.

The first sub-plot in the movie makes it clear that the penalty for not following rules is death before cleverly using a match-cut from the mangled corpse to a comic book strip depicting the events up till then.

Emma’s (Leslie Bibb) death in comic strip form. A retelling of the events up till the moment.

The transition is effective not only because of how seamless it feels but because of what it reveals of the story to come – a seemingly disconnected series of events whose relation will only become clear as time goes on. As this comic montage plays out, key clues are given for each of the sub-plots to come. It’s intriguing as a first-time viewer, but it also demonstrates just how much planning went into planning each storyline to multiple-time viewers. The invocation of the transmedia narrative seeps into these early moments of Trick R’Treat and gives the piece a distinctive flair.

Every single detail from the miniscule background characters to random noises gets explored as different seemingly unrelated storylines intersect with one another. What seems to be an innocuous clearly turns out to be lethal, while what seems to be deadly turned out to be nothing to worry about. By making constant reference to and use of both horror cliches and the customs of Halloween, the movie manages to constantly subvert audience expectations in ways that feel earned and clever. Never once did I see a reveal in the movie and think it came out of nowhere. The more I watch the movie, the more I realize just how many breadcrumbs Doughtery leaves the audience to piece together some of the nastier reveals before they actually happen. The movie is told more poetically than it is linearly but the way the timeline is revealed and explored both internally makes sense and externally leads to the biggest “Eureka” moments. The moment you think you’ve got the twist another one completely flips what you thought on its head and it’s genuinely delightful watching it all come together.

What keeps all the incongruous elements in harmony with each other is the protagonist-of-sorts, Sam (short for Samhain- very clever). The child like creature with the dopy straw mask doesn’t seem like a lot, but the moment someone breaks a rule of the holiday you’ll understand that just because it looks cute doesn’t mean it won’t murder you in the most horrifying way possible. The way the movie uses dissolve transitions between jack-o-lanterns or the blood red moon back and to Sam augment his presence as omnipotent and omnipresent.

Dissolve transition showing how Sam becomes the blood red moon watching over the town.

He literally is the spirit of Halloween watching over all and ensuring that the customs are being followed. The best part of his characterization is the balance struck between making him a terror and childlike. You’ll go from smiling at his presence to going “Oh God, that’s why you don’t break the rules.” Never once does he feel malicious and the movie exemplifies this with some key moments during the climax. It’s the reason why Sam has endured so long as a symbol of the holiday (and why I so badly want a sequel by Dougherty to come out). He’s just one of the best horror characters to come out this side of the 21^st century.

On a technical level – the movie knocks all the gory details out of the park. There’s plenty of blood, dismemberment, supernatural creatures, and a healthy amount of bodily fluids to go around. You like a good dead body display? Got it. Want to see some supernatural shenanigans with body parts moving around by themselves? Also, here. Need to see some monster transformations? Why didn’t you say so sooner? The way the effects all come together make the movie feel like horror movie grab bag of fun effects and neat executions – all of which are just as much fun to see as the ones coming before and after them. There’s not a single scene of violence which isn’t fun to watch, not only because the characters have it “coming to them” for breaking the rules, but because the movie gives us more than enough reason to actively want these characters to suffer. The best part? Outside of an early scene involving a lot of vomit, no scene feels gratuitous to the point of feeling like torture porn. Nor does any scene feel like it pulls its punches. It all just works right.

If I had an issue with the movie, it’s that all the separate sub-plots fit a bit too neatly into one another. It seems like a nitpick, and at some level it is, but as characters and story events are brought to light they come off feeling more like ways to tie everything together than organic revelations. It’s at these moments that I wish the movie pushed more heavily into the transmedia elements set up at the start of the movie, because the constant reference back to each story being a story in a graphic novel series of sorts would add some additional cohesion. If more bits and pieces of characters’ backstories were revealed in these moments, then the later reveals would feel earned and clever as opposed to just the latter. Is this a huge issue? Not at all. Honestly, the fact that all these elements fit together is proof enough of the talent that went into both the script and the editing process. Someone who said these criticisms are a non-issue wouldn’t get any protest from me, because there’s still no movie out there that better encapsulates the spirits and traditions of Halloween.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	If you’re looking for a fun movie to get your Halloween started look no further. Trick R’ Treat is every Halloween fan’s nightmare come to life. From the immaculate narrative construction to the transmedia presentation this is a movie that should delight casual fans while giving horror fans more than enough to sink their teeth into. If you haven’t seen the movie go ahead and give it a watch. If you’ve already seen it and didn’t think it was for you, give it another whirl and look at the way all the plots are set-up to build into/lead into one another. Who knows? You might find something you missed out on before.
Rating	9.6/10
Grade	A+

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1980s, 1982, C, Grade, Horror, mystery, Review, review-movie, slasher, Thriller, Year

Review: Friday the 13th Part 3

September 11, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Steve Miner
Principal Cast	Dana Kimmell as Chris Richard Brooker as Jason Voorhees Catherine Parks as Vera Larry Zerner as Shelly Paul Kratka as Rick Tracie Savage as Debbie Jeffrey Rogers as Andy David Katims as Chuck Rachel Howard as Chili Nick Savage as Ali
Release Date	1982
Language(s)	English
Running Time	95 minutes

Part 3 of the Friday the 13th franchise is my favorite one. I think it has the scariest interpretation of Jason (and I’m not just talking about the introduction of his iconic mask), some great and well-executed false scares, and one of the best non-Jason related bits in the franchise coming through in the form of a biker gang. Not all the parts work together as well as you’d want and the focus on making pivotal scenes in 3D really hurts the non-3D watching experience. However, none of those aspects can stop this third entry from being a whole lot of goofy fun.

The story picks a day after the end of Part 2 and follows Jason for a short bit as he looks for clothes and new victims to murder. After showing Jason making quick work of a local couple, the movie cuts to Chris and her group of friends as they travel down to Chris’s lake house by the infamous Crystal Lake. The story, like the previous installments of the franchise, follows our motley group of youngsters as they slowly get offed by Jason before his inevitable confrontation with the final girl. However, the path the movie takes to its foregone conclusion is what sets it apart and keeps it intriguing, especially when compared with the previous two installments.

It’s made apparent early on that Chris has experienced some trauma at Crystal Lake before the events of the story. It’s obvious this has something to do with Jason and the development of the two characters history and relation to each other makes sections in the third act feel like unique as opposed to re-heated slasher fare. Chris’s struggle to survive is tied into her character arc so you feel invested watching her try to outwit Jason to the very end. This struggle is made more interesting by the story’s decision to give Jason some actual character definition. No longer is he just a hulking mass set to kill. Okay he is most of the time, but with Chris his previously just violent actions take on a far more sinister undercurrent. This is probably the only Friday movie that’s made me dislike Jason as an evil and reprehensible character.

This is also one of the only movies in the franchise to have interesting side characters in the form of Vera and Shelly, and their interactions keep the movie intriguing even when Jason isn’t brutalizing someone. Shelly is a “nice guy”/incel type loner who feels alienated and takes on the role of group prankster to keep attention on him. When he’s introduced to Vera as her blind date for the camp trip, she quickly vetoes. Normally you’d expect that to be the end of that, but the story takes time to situate the two characters in relation to each other. One of the best moments in the movie comes from the pair trying to navigate their way around an angry biker gang because it gives the characters room to grow and learn more about one another. My only issue is that the story spends all this time developing the characters and generating intrigue to spend it all on a nice kill scene. It’s a definite waste of potential and makes me wonder if something more was planned with them that fizzled out.

This is a slasher that loves to fake out the audience with its scare set-ups. Normally, something like that would get on my nerves, but the movie makes it obvious from the start that it’s’ going to be playing this game with the audience. Shelly starts the movie playing “scary” pranks on the other characters and sets the expectation that everything isn’t what it really seems.As the story progresses the set-ups leading to the false scares and subsequent real scares get more in-depth leading to some genuinely great kill sequences. Unfortunately, the heavy use of 3D technology takes away the “oomph” of some of the better set-up kill sequences.

Abel (David Wiley) holding up an eyeball. Bet this would’ve looked better in actual 3D. Instead it just feels awkward.

This isn’t because the 3D is inherently bad or anything, but rather because lot of these shots were composed to highlight and show-off the technology. Without it, these same scenes lose a lot what of they seem to be going for.

I can only hope for the day where 3D technology is more ubiquitous so I can experience this movie in its fully glory, but as it stands right now a lot of the scenes its utilized in come off corny or forced. In fact, this is a criticism I think a lot of people can levy against the movie in general- it’s corny and forced. A lot of the dialogue leaves something to be desired. Performances, while not outright bad, are certainly nothing to write home about. Certain sub-plots come out of or go nowhere – a biker gang making an impromptu rendezvous in the story certainly feels like it could’ve been used for more effect. The already messy Friday timeline becomes even more convoluted and will have you asking what Jason’s game really is. However, despite all these issues and missed opportunities there’s a real fun and heart present. I laughed out loud more than one times both at the movies jokes and the absurdities it presented. I ended up grooving and wanting to dance to the new electric rendition of the classic theme song. I felt myself care about the main character and wanting her to win against a Jason I came to genuinely dislike. I can see why other fans of the franchise may not enjoy this movie, but for me it’s the one I put in whenever I want to have a fun Friday the 13^th time.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	Friday the 13th Part Three doesn’t radically change up the franchise formula, but that doesn’t stop it from being a good bit of fun. There are fun kill sequences, interesting scare fake-outs, a groovy main theme, and of course the introduction of Jason’s iconic mask. The 3D elements of the movie don’t hold up as well in a 2D environment (have yet to see the movie in 3D), but I appreciate the effort that went into trying to utilize the technology to create more gripping and attentive kill scenes. If you’re looking for a more menacing Jason and something a bit different than parts I and II, I think you should give this chapter a go ahead.
Rating	7.4/10
Grade	C

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2000s, 2007, A, found footage, Grade, Horror, mystery, Review, review-movie, supernatural, Thriller, Year

Review: Paranormal Activity

July 12, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Oren Peli
Principal Cast	Katie Featherston as Katie Micah Sloat as Micah Mark Fredrichs as Dr. Fredrichs
Release Date	2007
Language(s)	English
Running Time	86 minutes

The original Paranormal Activity is so well put together and concise as a found footage horror movie that it boggles me how bad the franchise has been afterwards. This first movie, I think, is the best found footage movie since the Blair Witch Project because it manages to capture a lot of the same feelings while presenting the material in way that takes into account suburbia as opposed to some creepy woods. The acting is more than adequate, the scares are punctuated by amounts of silence that make every creak and bump that much louder, and the special effects are surprisingly effective. Most importantly, the dynamic between the lead characters makes the underlying haunting interesting and the way the movie intertwines their relationship with the supernatural unfolding is what gives this movie staying strength as opposed to the awful sequels it spawned.

The movie follows Micah and Katie, a couple that’s recently moved to a new house . The latter is being followed by a supernatural presence so her boyfriend decides to tape their everyday life in hope of acquiring some evidence. Things start off slowly with long stretches of the movie just being time lapse shots of nothing happening in the background or dialogue scenes between the main couple. However, once the movie hits a certain point things start getting less tame. Things starts off with creaks and objects being dropped. The sound design is on point so every one of these little moment feels pungent. The supernatural phenomenon becomes more severe as time goes on and follows a logic; the malevolent presence feeds and grows off negative energy. When do things get worse in the house? You guessed it. Whenever tensions flare up between Micah and Katie.

That brings us to the most important aspect of the movie- Micah and Katie’s relationship. From the first moment the audience is introduced to the couple it’s clear to notice the power dynamic is Micah favored. He makes the big bucks. He owns the house. He can buy a high quality digital camera with no second worries. Katie’s immediate response to seeing the camera and realizing the extents to which her boyfriend wants to go to record the supernatural reveals that she wasn’t expecting it. It’s implied that Micah probably described the recording situation as being smaller than he intended on making . It’s an early enough sign of how he views their relationship but the movie slowly brings those imbalances to the light.

Micah starts off a skeptic and counterbalance to Katie’s fervent belief that she’s being haunted. He constantly challenges and undermines her belief in her own scenario . For example, during Dr. Friedrich’s visit he acts in a mocking and derisive manner. However, when he comes to the realization something is afoot his immediate response is to get more excited. He’s happy that the supernatural exists because it means he can record it and get recognition for it. The narcissism and selfishness that seemed a minor issue at the beginning of the movie transforms into something more sinister as he takes delight in the supernatural as opposed to sympathetic for his girlfriend’s plight. There’s one moment in particular where he researches demons to give Katie advice while in the same breath chastising Friedrich, a psychic consultant Katie called in earlier, for not knowing enough. Reading a book doesn’t give more authority than an expert in the field because presumably the book was written by someone similar. Prioritizing one form of knowledge over another is nonsensical absent an non arbitrary reason. But for a narcissist, the fact that the discovery of the situation came from “him” as opposed to another source is reason enough. Friedrich wasn’t picked by Micah so obviously his advice isn’t adequate.

Katie starts off being more accommodating of Micah’s behavior because she’s used to it. There’s a level of autonomy she knows shes going to lose but the safety she feels matters more to her given how terrified she is of her haunting. As Micah prods the supernatural he prods her which makes the supernatural more intense because it’s all predicated on her emotions. In this way the supernatural just becomes a representation for the state of Katie’s emotional vulnerability and sense of self. The external conflict (supernatural occurrences) is tied to the internal conflict (Katie’s fight for respect) and watching the way those planes inform one another definitely made me appreciate the ending a lot more.

However, there are a lot of moving parts and random bits of exposition that are dumped throughout that feel a bit hastily put together. I think the movie would have benefited from giving the audience more information on Micah and Katie’s dynamic before moving in together. For as much as I enjoy Micah’s characters and portrayal, the way his character behaves near latter portions of the movie gets a bit absurd. He feels too one-note asshole. If the movie had developed one of its earlier mentioned threads about how Katie never let him know about her demonic issues before moving in and the audience could see his character become more controlling as a result, then the subsequent unraveling of the relationship dynamic would become more complex. Micah would certainly come off as more as sympathetic and the relationship more interesting.

Furthermore, the way the haunting unravels is pretty arbitrary. As Katie sets up early on she’s had bouts with this presence since a young age. It just comes whenever it wants. That’s movie speak for whenever the story needs a convenient spook or doesn’t want to explain a dynamic it can go with “the demon decided now was the time to strike” as reason enough. The idea isn’t abused maliciously in the movie, but I think tying it down to Katie’s emotional state and personal history would have given the story more of a meaningful kick.

In terms of being scary, this movie is quite effective if viewed in the right frame of mind. The low budget nature of the camera matches well with the visual scares. Nothing feels out of place and some of the visual effects are quite impressive. There’s one scene involving fire near the midway point of the movie that freaked me out when the movie first came out because I couldn’t conceive of how it could look so real. This is a movie that understands that scares have to be built up to and blowing the load on some lame jump scare would only make the eventual finale that much less interesting. The slow burn approach gives the movie a level of intensity that’s rare in mainstream horror. Sound is used quite well. In particular, there’s a droning noise that comes on during night sequences that’s tied to the presence of the supernatural. It’s just loud enough to make you aware that something has changed but not so loud as to take away from the scene. It’s used to create an uncomfortable atmosphere and prime you to be uneasy. This way the loud scares that follow after feel far more terrifying. Both the visual and audio elements always build off one another and the way the final sequence unravels is satisfying from a narrative and visceral perspective. It’s loud, poetic, and definitely deserved.

It’s a shame the franchise never made use of these elements effectively again. I can only hope the soon to be 7th entry in the franchise returns back to the series roots – great atmosphere, contextual scares, and interesting character dynamics. All the elements are there. Just put them back together again. Until then, I’ll continue sticking to this first entry. It’s one of the better horrors of the 2000’s for a reason.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	Paranormal Activity is a horror movie that takes it all back to the basics of making the audience scares. It’s low budget camera and effects work is more than effective and the way the haunting builds and develops is satisfying and most importantly, frightening. If you’re someone who’s only seen the sequels do yourself a favor and watch the original.
Rating	9.0/10
Grade	A

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1963, C, Grade, Horror, Review, review-movie, slasher, splatter, Year

Film Review: Blood Feast – 1963

July 10, 2020 The Critic 2 Comments

Director(s)	Herschell Gordon Lewis
Principal Cast	Mal Arnold as Fuad Ramses William Kerwin as Detective Pete Thornton Connie Mason as Suzette Fremont Lyn Bolton as Mrs. Fremont
Release Date	1963
Language(s)	English
Running Time	67 minutes
Report Card	Click to go to Review TLDR/Summary

NOTE: This review contains partial spoilers for Psycho.

The film opens with a primitive drumming that generates a sense of foreboding. A young woman enters her apartment and turns on a radio. An insert shot of the radio imbues it with a sense of agency as an announcement about a murder plays; women are being warned to stay at home after dark due to the presence of an unhinged killer. The score accentuates this proclamation and consequently becomes more unnerving.

However, the young woman listening doesn’t care for this warning and turns off the radio. She gets ready for a bath and begins to strip; a canted shot of her undressing plays on our anxieties and makes the death from the announcement a foregone conclusion. She is marked for death.

Before she gets into the bathtub to meet her fate, the films cuts to a book titled: “Ancient Weird Religious Rites.” This second insert shot ties the book and radio together and grants a context to the aforementioned serial murders: they are part and parcel of some kind of ritual. Yet, the two highlighted items – a modern radio with a serious warning about a current crisis and an esoteric book focused on discovering the past – introduce a discordant feeling. If an agent is being hinted it through shots of these items, it’s certainly one that’s out of joint.

Then, a scream. The music cuts out for a moment and the young woman is stabbed by an intruder. A strange organ-based score replaces the previous drum-based music as the perpetrator of the attack, Fuad Ramses (Mal Arnold), proceeds to repeatedly stab his unsuspecting victim in brutalizing fashion.

The film cuts from the victim back to Fuad and back again; she’s surrounded by a green-tiled background while he’s encompassed by a wall painted in yellow. The juxtaposition in color adds to the disharmonious feeling up to now as the two colors seem to bear no connection to one another and introduce an incongruity within the shared space of the bathroom; these sides feel like they belong to different spaces, a feeling accentuated by the lack of a master shot by which to make sense of the room’s geography.

Finally, the violent attack ceases. The camera takes perverse pleasure in poring over the ensuing carnage, showcasing the bright-red gore against the distinctive backdrops of the space; this sign of violence is what connects the sides of the room together – bloodshed is what unites the otherwise disjointed space into a cohesive whole.

The gore fades to black, the drum-based score comes back into play, and a face on a pyramid dominates the frame; the past intrudes into the modern setting. The title appears on the screen as a splatter as the blood begins to pour of the letters and overwhelm the boundaries it’s meant to demarcate; the score becomes accentuated by a tubular instrumental matching this visual excess.

Then, the pyramid fades to black again and we cut to a plain textual display, dark blue letters against a plain brown background marking a police office – a sharp contrast to the mystique of the font, color, and setting of the title sequence. We’ve returned to the present once again.

Inside the room, Detective Pete (William Kerwin) and the police Chief (Scott H. Hall) express fear at the number of killings, the inexplicable removal of body parts from the victims, and the fact that no evidence has been pointing to any subjects. The most recent murder, that depicted in the opening, has only compounded their worries. Frustrated and left with no other options, the two resign themselves to playing more radio warnings.

Then, the organ music comes back into the fray and the film cuts to a sign for “Fuad Ramses Exotic Catering”, a display utilizing a distinctive font similar to the one used in the title credits; we know that the police’s warning is doomed to failure. Try as they might, the killer has now entered the scene once again.

He performs his “cover” job as a caterer and tends to a checkout counter. A woman dressed in fancy garb, Mrs. Fremont (Lyn Bolton), approaches him and hires him to cater a dinner for her daughter, Suzette (Connie Mason); she’s interested in something eccentric to make the night special. Her manner of speech is direct and her mannerisms are exaggerated in a bourgeoise fashion. There’s something unreal about the way she approaches the encounter.

This feeling is amplified when Fuad responds by fully leaning his body into the frame, staring at her without daring to blink. He offers to cook an Egyptian Feast, the likes of which the ancient pharaohs performed over 5000 years ago. The camera cuts to a close-up of his intense gaze as a droning noise begins to play; it feels like a spell is being cast. The relationship between the two changes: it’s not her hiring him as much as he’s hiring her.

Mrs. Fremont’s mannerisms change and she acts as if in a trance before accepting the offer; once she does, the moment breaks and she returns to her previous manner of acting. The magic subsides and the transaction is complete.

Fuad (Mal Arnold) limps through his store.

Alone again, Fuad slowly limps towards a door in the back of the building. The amount of time spent chronicling this movement serves no purpose and serves as a strange form of punctuation, merely elongating the distance between the events before and after it. But this moment is also marked by the drum score from earlier, granting it an importance that it doesn’t seem to warrant.

This traversal finally ends when he makes it to a hidden room draped with red curtains, the color of blood. He walks towards a figure in the far corner of the room while the camera pans and tracks him; this figure is Ishtar, the Goddess that Fuad plans to do the feast for. As he exalts her and swears his allegiance to her cause, the camera cuts to a close-up of the statue’s face; it’s here where the film’s use of close-ups and insert shots merge as the focus on the statue’s visage makes it apparent that this is the magical agency that’s been operating unseen in the film up to now; Faud’s ritual has been working and the subject of the statue is closer to resurrection. With Mrs. Fremont’s request, the ritualistic endgame is in sight.

Thus, at a surface level, director Herschell Gordon Lewis’s (in)famous Blood Feast seems to position itself as a low-budget, exploitative attempt meant to take advantage of the “demise of many state censor boards” to deliver a blood-soaked experience. The performances are odd, the score is “tuneless” and” experimental”, the plot is seemingly inane, and the budget seems to have gone mostly to the gore effects which the camera seems to care most about ^[1]Mendik, X., Schneider, S. J., Kaufman, L., & Mendik, X. (2002). Chapter 16: ‘Gouts of Blood’: The Colorful Underground Universe of Herschell Gordon Lewis . In Underground U.S.A.: … Continue reading. Yet, these oddities and the manner in which they’re executed transform this “slasher” film into an “ur-text” that’s remained pivotal in defining contemporary horror cinema ^[2] Brottman, M. (1996). “There never was a party like this. . . !” Blood feast and the Primal Act of cannibalism. Continuum, 9(1), 25–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/10304319609365689.

While the “appointed ancestor of the slasher film is Hitchcock’s Psycho”, a seminal piece of work whose subversion of narrative conventions and utilization of subtle, impressionistic cinematic techniques in generating unease continues to part and parcel of the golden standard by which films, not just horror, are evaluated, Blood Feast‘s introduces a visceral element that remains just at vital at exploring taboo and the costs of violating the same. The film’s focus on gore leaves little room for the imagination and lets us see the “opened body”; a taboo has been violated as the “visible” and “knowable” are literally opened up to reveal the unseen insides. ^[3] Clover, C. J. (2015). Chapter 1: Her Body, Himself. In Men, women, and chain saws: Gender in the modern horror film. essay, Princeton University Press.

Yet, these obscene displays of violence aren’t meant to scare us as much as allowing us to fully engage with and enjoy the spectacle. Unlike Hitchcock who located “thrill in the equation victim=audience” and consequently shot the most violence scene of the film, the iconic shower murder, as an impression of the knife “slashing” the film itself in an attempt to rupture the viewer’s body,^[4] Ibid Lewis treats us as participants in the violence and invites us to participate in the macabre ceremony. Opposed to the victim, we’re aligned with Fuad as perpetrator; we want to consume a “blood feast”.

This dichotomy in the two film’s approaches to violence is made explicit in the way they handle the same situation: a shower murder. While Psycho’s scene is absolutely iconic, a pinnacle in dread and tension, it’s effect is achieved through “virtuoso editing and a sprinkling of chocolate syrup.”^[5]Skal, D. J. (2001). Chapter Eleven: Scar Wars. In The monster show: A cultural history of horror. essay, Faber and Faber. The realism of the narrative allows Hitchcock to impress upon the audience the impact of the violence without ever showing too much; he doesn’t even need to use red gore effects to convey the impact.

However, the same scene in this film operates almost in an inverted fashion; the film juxtaposes distinctive aural choices and strange color decisions to immediately throw the viewer off and makes the situation oneiric; there’s nothing to latch onto. The shock comes from the haphazard fashion in which the violence “appears” and takes control of the frame. Bucket of red gore and blood are what we end up taking away from the scene.

Lewis employs several such oddities throughout the film to distance us from the severity of the kills such as to let us partake in the violence without feeling alienated by it. The caricature like acting makes it hard to relate to the characters; thus, we can’t be bothered by the brutal executions and don’t feel put off by our identification with Fuad’s position as gore purveyor. The absurd editing – both within and between scenes – propels the narrative forward towards the next fleshy display with little semblance of logic or coherent momentum. There’s no concern with how Fuad gets to each murder scene, commits the murder without difficulty, and gets out of said scenes scot-free with no real planning even during moments when other characters should definitely notice him or find a meaningful clue to his identity. The narrative even goes so far as to utilize supernatural trappings like Fuad’s apparent magical skills and the presence of Ishtar an agent in her own right to further to disrupt the reality of the narrative. The only real constant throughout the film is the gore effects which are bright, red, and take control of the frame; we’re allowed to fully attune ourselves to them.

While the technical implementation of these “distancing” techniques may potentially distract viewers unable to get past the crude presentation, the telos they aspire to remains an important influence to the genre; Psycho may be more influential and an infinitely more compelling film, but Blood Feasts contributions still reverberate just as strongly as the former’s. In fact, I’d argue that a good portion of horrors, especially in the slasher and splatter sub-genres, take varying levels of influence from both of these archetypal films in their construction. For example, films like Halloween leans more into Psycho’s taut narrative construction and utilization of mood to generate tension along with a light amount of gore to sell the impact, but films like Friday the 13th treat plot as a tool to get the next gore-based, logic be damned, in the manner of Blood Feast.
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Thus, while the film may be sloppy and fail to remain compelling through its entirety, its heart and sheer dedication carry it through and make it worth studying; its mistakes give it a texture that proper construction would be unable to engender. Horror fans who enjoy the visual grossness that comes with the genre owe the film a sincere watch.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	Extreme and audacious for its time, Blood Feast may stumble getting where it’s going, but the gory odyssey it promises is well worth it and its influence can be felt in the genre to this day. By embracing its many faults, some of which may be too distracting for viewers demanding a “polished” product, it manages to get the audience to anticipate and cheer instead of fear the next bit of carnage candy in this all-you-can eat blood buffet.
Rating	6.4/10
Grade	C

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2010s, 2019, B, found footage, Grade, Horror, mystery, Review, review-movie, supernatural, Year

Review: Hell House LLC III: Lake of Fire

July 9, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Stephen Cognetti
Principal Cast	Gabriel Chytry as Russell Wynn Elizabeth Vermilyea as Vanessa Sam Kazzi as Jeff Stone Scott Richey as Harvey Jordan Kaplan as Max Bridgid Abrams as Jane Leo DeFriend as Gregory Brian David Tracy as Andrew Tully
Release Date	2019
Language(s)	English
Running Time	85 minutes

If you’ve read my review of Hell House LLC II: The Abaddon Hotel, you already know that I’m a big fan of Cognetti’s conclusion to the Hell House franchise. It’s not perfect. It doesn’t right the wrongs of the second movie nor does it replicate the magic of the first movie. What it does do is present an interesting connective tissue between the two while never forgetting that it’s supposed to be entertaining in its own rite. There are some ideas that feel like they would’ve been better served being the focal point(s) of the second movie, but the developed ideas that the story goes with give the series a more elegant and meaningful feeling.

The story picks up a year after the end of Hell House II, with the Abaddon Hotel set to be destroyed after the disappearance of the crew from the last movie. Just before demolition, the property ends up getting purchased by billionaire Russell Wynn who intends on using the hotel to stage his famous play, Insomnia, a retelling of the tale of Faust. We’re told at the beginning of the movie that the “documentary’s” purpose is to conclusively prove what happened on the night of Wynn’s grand re-opening of the hotel. In this way, the movie’s set-up is fairly similar to the first Hell House in that it’s chronicling some event after the fact, but it’s different in that the audience isn’t told what the event is or whether it was good or bad. What adds to the mystery is the fact this Russell is the same Russell who made the second movie, as in he’s the person who made the second “documentary” in-universe. Given the way that ends, with Tully talking about how the tapes made then would be sent to someone else who would continue the chain of getting people into the premises , it’s even more intriguing thinking about why Russell would buy such a property. Is he in on Tully’s plan to bring more souls into the lake of fire? Was he shown doctored footage to come to a different conclusion? What is his end goal?

This layered approach to the mystery rewards attentive fans of the franchise and utilizes the self-referential nature of the movies to its fullest. Taken along with the story of Faust and suddenly you have some interesting sub-text to go along with the mystery and meta-questions. Once the ball starts rolling and things start getting revealed you’ll be shocked at where all the threads end up converging. That being said, the way that clues are scattered and set up does make me sad that some of this work wasn’t done in the second movie. The way everything concludes is satisfying but there are aspects that feel like they could’ve been better set up to make some of the thematic questions/ideas more salient.

To go along with the documentary approach the movie, like the previous two installments, cuts together footage from multiple different sources including: interviews with older members from the franchise, clips of supernatural events from the first and second movie, unseen clips of interactions not previously seen, and the “main” connective news footage from the initial documentary footage shot by Vanessa, a reporter who was sent to document Insomnia before its grand opening at the Abaddon. Most of the footage is taken from this last source and is comprised both of Vanessa’s personal interview footage and self-recorded footage off of personal camcorders given to Insomnia staff members.

Now because the movie’s purpose is to explain what happened on the opening night of Insomnia it treats the audience like they haven’t seen either of the previous movies. That means if you were tired of seeing cuts to the same random events, get ready to relive some events again. This can feel grating but it makes sense given the context by which its being shown in-universe. For example, a character from the main timeline will mention a disappearance and the movie will cut to said disappearance from a previous movie to prove said event happened and to give it context. Unfortunately, cuts to previously seen footage/events also happens when they doesn’t need to. For example, Max, an actor in Insomnia, talks about how he’s watched the previous release of the in-universe Hell House and knows where all the exits in the Abaddon are and the documentary then cuts to a cut of all the exits not working from the first movie. Is the point that Max is stupid because if he saw the first movie he’d know that knowing where the exits are doesn’t help? Or is this supposed to be evidence that the first movie was actually doctored and the truth of the exits not working was covered up? But that doesn’t make sense given that the first movie is presented as a “true” documentary meant for mass consumption. Confusion aside, these moments happen a bit too often for my liking and bog the pacing of the movie down. Not all of them make me think this hard/introduce unnecessary questions, but all of them do feel like they’re their to pad out the runtime.

One of my biggest gripes with the previous two movies has been the use of this awful glitching effect when something supernatural comes onto the screen. Unfortunately, this movie not only continues the trend but uses a similarly frustrating glitch like effect to transition between clips from different sources. The effect in transition is less jarring than the supernatural effect but it’s definitely something to take notice of if you’ve been annoyed by the effects use in the past installments. There’s also some questionable CGI in the third act, but it’s used so sparingly and with such a specific purpose that I can’t fault the movie too much for it.

Thankfully, bad camera effects aren’t the only thing this entry inherits from its predecessors. Like the cast from the first movie, all the principal characters here feel grounded and real . Vermilyea is great as Vanessa and makes her characters decisions feel logical and grounded. There’s some maneuvering and posturing she has to do in latter portions of the movie and her facial reactions to these moments always feel spot on. I love Richey’s performance as Harvey, Russell’s assistant of sorts with an eccentric personality to boot. He adds a fun festive energy to the otherwise serious feeling piece and never comes off feeling forced. All the actors for Insomnia, feel like like a genuine cast of friends who have done a play over and over and are just doing it again in a creepier place. No character’s decision feels especially out of place and they all have distinct enough personalities so you can tell them apart. The only real issue I have character wise is an awful rendered scar on Russell’s face. No amount of acting from Chytry could save that damage. That being said, his performance is a highlight and the mystery of the movie only works because of how well he plays the nuances of his role.

All in all, this is a fitting end to the trilogy that neatly bookmarks all the loose threads into one resounding conclusion. Some ideas feel a bit under-cooked and underdeveloped – one of them being a pivotal part of the climax’s reveal, but I respect and appreciate the ingenuity of what was being attempted. Just because it doesn’t fully succeed doesn’t mean it fails and if anything I think Cognetti has proven that found footage can and should be taken seriously as a way of telling meaningful horror stories. There’s so much more that can be done with the mechanisms of the sub-genre and I appreciate this trilogy, this movie in particular, for opening my eyes up to them.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	If you’ve seen the previous two Hell House movies you owe it to watch this one. I’m of the opinion that if you’ve seen the first you should just grit your teeth through the second to watch this one. The movie doesn’t hit all the marks it wants to (someone please ban the glitch effect) but it’s innovative use of previous entries and the found footage style is something that fans of the sub-genre need to check out. It’s not a masterpiece, but for a found footage movie Hell House LLC III:Lake of Fire packs a lot more of a punch than expected.
Rating	8.0/10
Grade	B

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