Tag Archives: supernatural

Review: Luz

Director(s)Tilman Singer
Principal CastLuana Velis as Luz
Jan Bluthardt as Dr. Rossini
Julia Riedler as Nora
Nadja Stübiger as Bertillon
Johannes Benecke as Olarte
Lilli Lorenz as Margarita
Release Date2018
Language(s)German, Spanish
Running Time 77 minutes

The movie opens on a receptionist who sits behind his desk and slowly does his work. A slow paced synth score plays in the background as if to set the tone. After a little bit, a young woman walks into the reception area, her shoulders drooping and her general appearance indicating a fatigue. She slowly meanders around the location and eventually comes to the vending machine at which point she decides to buy a drink. The score picks up and gains a serious energy as a siren noise penetrates the slow beat. The girl, Luz, walks towards the receptionist and aggressively asks him ,”Is this how you wanna live your life? Is this seriously what you want? ” He looks up at her and signals that he needs a moment. He looks up and indicates to her he’s ready to hear her at which point she repeats what she said before, this time her voice becoming distorted and terrifying. Her words echo and reverberate all around as the title card comes up.

Luz (Luana Velis) enters the reception area as if in a daze and confronts the receptionist after a 4 minute wait. The whole time the camera stays still letting the audience become immersed into the story’s world.

This is Tilman Singer’s Luz, a slow paced story that harkens back to Euro horrors of old in the vein of something like Zulawski’s Possession. It’s slow, methodical, and focused on immersing the audience in an ambiance more so than telling a straightforward story. The opening scene seems short in theory, but it plays out slowly over a period stretching a little longer than 4 minutes – an uninterrupted shot that gives the audience a chance to fully immerse themselves in what’s going to happen while giving away almost nothing of what’s going on. It’s eventually revealed that Luz has entered a police station and is immediately taken in for questioning due to her bruised appearance and strange behavior. Her interrogators include an authoritative chief named Bertillon, a translator going by Olarte, and Dr. Rossini, a hypnotist and psychologist of sorts.

Unbeknownst to them however, a supernatural force is also invested in Luz, albeit for different reasons, and intervenes in the ongoing interrogation. What does it want? Luz’s love and affection – a relationship between the corporeal and the demonic. Thus the stage is set for a movie that’s part police procedural as the law enforcement agents try and get to the bottom of the truth of what happened to Luz and part possession love story as the demonic entity tries to usurp the process and make Luz engage in communion with it. The interweaving of these storylines enables Singer to deconstruct the commonly held ideas about possession, as the spirit does not seem to harm Luz (as is common in possession based movies) but ,rather, tries to make the confused cab driver hers in an intimate sense. Given that the primary method the interrogators use to investigate the past is hypnotizing Luz and probing her innermost thoughts, the movie asks the question if possession is any different from the way we violate others by forcing expectations of proper behavior on them and punishing them for violations of the same. Is hypnosis done for the sake of finding the truth really better than having a body enveloped by some alternative power? Is submission to some kind of code, whether it be religious or legal, distinct from a supernatural exchange of power? By mixing the distinct storylines together, the movie seeks to investigate what the nature of communication, reception, agency really means.

Like the opening scene suggests, some lines are said by characters without a context by which to make sense of them. Luz’s outbursts at the receptionist feel odd because they indicate a sense of familiarity with the recipient. Why ask such invasive questions about someone if you know nothing about them? This idea bleeds naturally into both the intrusive nature of hypnosis and possession but also communication in general. When we speak we attempt to convey a certain meaning meant to elucidate our thoughts and feelings. However, there’s always a disjunct in what we mean to say and what we actually say. Freudian slips, misinterpretations, and the like plague everyday conversation revealing that communication isn’t as easy as it’s made out to be. We only have control over our words, but we have no control over how others perceive them. If I talk to a friend in public, it’s possible they misunderstand me. It’s also possible they understand me, but a random stranger walking by doesn’t understand me. The interpretative chain goes on and on as every utterance can take on a different meaning based on who’s listening and what information they have about the speaker and their respective circumstances. This is the heart of what the movie seeks to explore as sentences and phrases are constantly repeated by different characters in different ways in different contexts.

Words and phrases constantly echo and reverberate in strange and disorienting ways. The camera will go to a close-up of a character’s mouth and words will be heard, but the respective character’s mouth won’t move. Luz speaks in Spanish but her interrogators are German, so each of her lines is initially uttered with no subtitles confounding the viewer, until Olarte repeats her words a few seconds later creating another discrepancy between what we see and what we hear. When Luz goes under for hypnosis, she plays the role of multiple characters and speaks as though she’s multiple people creating a sense of confusion, as the translations on top of her rapid switching between different point of views becomes more difficult to break apart. At times sound fades out. At other times it gets much louder. Most of the while, there’s always an evocative synth score playing in the background adding to the auditory chaos. It’s affective audio mixing and gives the soundscape and impressionist feeling, almost as if the words matter less than the feelings behind them. It’s an experiment that could go disastrously poor, but instead gives full life to the themes and ideas inherent in the story by placing the audience in the middle of the communicative battleground where meaning is constantly being carved out.

Matching this chaotic sound design is immaculate set design and editing. The movie primarily takes places in one location, but with the way flashbacks and clever set pieces are used nothing ever feels stale. This is most evidenced during the hypnosis portions of the movie. The camera constantly shows the shift between where Luz is mentally and what her actual surroundings are like. As she re-enacts the cab driving accident that led her to come to the station, we see glimpses of the real situation coming through the fray. Lighting and camera shifts show the way her past forces itself into the present. In a beautiful demonstration of the way the two intermingle, the camera shows Luz’s passenger in the backseat of her “car” through a mirror, provided by the officers to help create a sense of immersion, while everything around her remains the same.

As the session becomes more intense, the interrogation room becomes more and more misty eventually turning into to a thick impenetrable haze – a reflection of the miasma that surrounds the discourse being cultivated in the room. Set pieces from earlier flashbacks integrate themselves into the room, demonstrating that an effective script and smart set design is all that’s needed to create an truly immersive story. It helps that movie is shot on 16MM which gives every scene a truly gritty and rugged feeling tying all these moments together in an aesthetic fashion.

The strand holding all these elements together is the multifaceted performances given by the small, but highly talented, cast of actors. Luana Velis is the focus of the story and gives life to the enigmatic titular character. From her early and disturbing behavior to the way she becomes laid back and calm during the early stages of her hypnosis, she demonstrates a full range of emotions. Watching her pretend to drive her cab is a treat to see, because it demonstrates how subtle and precise movements are all that’s needed to convey an effective illusion. The way she bops her head to the imaginary radio in her car along with the way she breaks by slamming the pedals matches up so well with the accompanying driving sound effects. It’s hard to believe that she’s not actually hypnotized. Likewise Bluthardt and Riedler give wholly emphatic performances that demonstrate the duplicities of their respective characters. They have to switch and take on multiple different roles to sell central ideas in the movie, and they manage to do so in a way that’s genuinely unnerving. Bluthardt in particular manages to go to some dark and disturbing places with an ease that gets under the skin. I’d love to say more, but I don’t want to give too much away.

My biggest issue with the movie is that in focusing so heavily on Velis, Bluthardt, and Riedler’s characters it loses the potential of Stübiger and Benecke’s characters. Both Bertillon and Olarte seem important from the beginning, but they’re slowly pushed to the sideline as the plot unravels, which feels like a shame given what they potentially offer to the story. The former is a powerful and assertive chief , while the latter is a more timid and religiously uptight translator. Given the thematic dynamic involving supernatural power, possession vs hypnosis, and communication it feels like they could have had a bigger role in fleshing out some of the ideas. For example, there’s one moment where a hypnotized Luz engages in some sacrilege and Olarte refuses to translate given his religious upbringing. Bertillon’s response is just to confusingly ask if her translator is serious about the refrain. This moment could’ve explored a power dynamic between legality and religion and the power of uttering something profane, but instead it’s brushed aside to get the focus back on Luz and Dr. Rossini. The movie is a crisp 77 minutes (a little under if you include the credits), so it’s not like its overly long and couldn’t fit in these moments. That being said, the story is so tight and well structured that these omissions don’t hurt as much as they make you wonder what could’ve been. It’s a strange thing to criticize a movie by saying “I love it, but I want more.” , but with how great the movie is I can’t help but wonder how much more staggering it could’ve been if it fleshed these ideas out more.

However, in spite of my praise, this is not a horror movie I would recommend to everyone. It’s slow, methodical, and very much in the old-school European art-house vein. This is a meditation on communication, power, and the way our attempts at reaching out to one another are always caught in a matrix of interpretation – a matrix that is only partially controlled by us. From the subdued, yet evocative visual style to the inspired soundscape, the movie imbues every painstakingly long scene with an ambiance that will completely hypnotize audience members who are willing to give themselves to the it.

REPORT CARD

TLDRLuz feels like a movie from a different age, one that’s more focused on making the audience feel something than giving a clear narrative with answers at every turn. The way it investigates communication is brilliant and makes effective use of both the possession and police procedural elements of its narrative. Combined with strong compositions, effective set pieces, and a brilliant sound design the movie oozes charisma and a creepy ambiance that old-school horror fans will love. Those viewers who are okay with a slower pace, less plot driven, and more mood drive story will find something special in Tilman’s deconstruction of the supernatural possession based genre.
Rating9.7/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Review: Sadako vs. Kayako

Director(s)Kōji Shiraishi
Principal CastMizuki Yamamoto as Yūri
Tina Tamashiro as Suzuka
Aimi Satsukawa as Natsumi
Masahiro Komoto as Professor Morishige
Masanobu Andō as Keizō
Mai Kikuchi as Tamao
Runa Endo as Kayako Saeki
Elly Nanami as Sadako Yamamura
Rintaro Shibamoto as Toshio Saeki
Release Date2016
Language(s)Japanese
Running Time 98 minutes

Every horror fan has their gateway horror movie(s) that manages to capture their interests and serve as an introduction to the frightening, yet intoxicating allure the genre at large offers. For me, that movie is Gore Verbinski’s The Ring. I can still remember watching it for the first time so many years ago, swearing I’d never go near a television again. However, that fear turned into an obsession with the sense of vitality I felt while watching something so frightening. The adrenaline rush and sense of immersion I had felt ,while watching the movie with baited breath through the gaps between my fingers, led me down the J-Horror rabbit hole, as I quickly discovered my precious horror movie was actually a remake of a Japanese movie by the same name. After watching the original, I quickly got sucked into the world of Japanese horror. I quickly saw as much as I could – Pulse, One Missed Call, Audition, Ju-On, Cure, and so on- in a a frenzy. At some point my summer vacation was literally watching one of these movie, pacing in fear, sleeping with one eye open until said fear had gone away, and moving onto the next one on the list. Eventually, I became more acclimated to the horror genre in general, but J-Horror will always have a special place in my heart.

Given that, it should be no surprise that I absolutely freaked out when I saw the first trailer for this movie back in 2015. Like many other fans, I thought its release on April 1st meant it was an elaborate April Fool’s joke, but imagine my surprise when I heard the announcement early 2016 that the meme movie was in fact going to actually come out. My brain couldn’t process it. A Ring movie crossing over with Ju-On? Both movies (and their American remakes, especially in the case of the former) scared the piss out of me growing up, so I eagerly awaited this monster mashup- my Freddy vs. Jason if you will. When I saw it was being directed by Kōji Shiraishi, the man behind Noroi: The Curse (one of my favorite found footage movies ever), that excitement grew to unreasonable levels. What would he do to get Kayako and Sadako to fight one another? How would the fight even go? What kind of amazing battle sequences would us, the fans, get to witness in action?

As soon as I could find a way to watch the movie online I jumped at the chance. With baited breath, I hit play and waited for the supernatural battle of the century to commence. Unfortunately, what I got was more of a Ring reimaging sprinkled with a little bit of Ju-on every now and then to remind the audience that this was in fact a mashup movie. The final battle happens at almost the end of the movie, and barely lasts more than a few minutes. All in all, I was left disappointed. This wasn’t what even close to what I wanted. The excitement, the adrenaline, the anticipation – everything left me like air from a deflated balloon.

Close to a year later, I decided to watch the movie again on a random whim. I was looking for something to keep on in the background, while I focused on some menial task and figured since I knew what happened anyways I couldn’t be disappointed again. Much to my surprise, I found myself enjoying it a lot more. I chalked it up to a lack of expectations, but have since realized – no – I actually do enjoy portions of the movie. Is it still a disappointment? Yes, more so, because its in my subsequent rewatches that I’ve come to realize just how many neat elements the movie has that it does absolutely nothing with. It’s a disappointment, not because it’s bad, but because of how miserably it squanders the potential it had.

The movie opens up on a quick kill from Sadako before cutting to a University class being taught by Professor Morishige. His lecture topic is Japanese urban legends. As you would expect he brings up the cursed video tape along with the accompanying tale of Sadako and the concept of Onryō‘s (the vengeful spirit Kayako is) in quick succession with some other monsters like the Kuchisake-onna (split faced women). Interestingly enough, his story of the cursed tape involves being killed after 2 days as opposed to 7. He tells the students that such tales are just memes (you read that right) that have spread due to lack of information and makes the astute observation that if the cursed video tape was actually real it’d have shown up online by now. He ends his lesson and the movie pivots to two students in his classroom, Yūri and Natsumi.

These two best friends leave the room for lunch at which point the latter asks the former to convert her parents VCR tape to a more convenient format. Cue the girls buying an old video cassette player with a free cursed tape inside. The movie cuts at this point to a third schoolgirl, Suzuka, who’s moving right next to the Saeki household (you know, where Toshio and Kayako lives). She feels herself being watched (natural, given the ghosts at the residence) before the movie cuts back to Yūri and Natsumi watching the tape with the latter getting cursed as the former looks down to answer a text. The paranoia starts hitting and the girls decide to go to Professor Morishige for advice. After he confirms the girls have the actual videotape, by virtue of watching it himself, he dances with elation. Turns out Morishige is a huge Sadako super-fan and wants nothing more than to meet her. He eagerly awaits a phone call from the spirit and agrees to help the girls out by getting them an exorcism.

Professor Morishige (Masahiro Komoto) aka President of the Sadako fan club eagerly awaits the call of death informing him of his impending doom as long as he can hear the spectral spirit he’s obsessed with. A great character that gets almost no use.

Alas, the exorcism doesn’t go as planned so the girls hire two psychics, Keizō and Tamao, to help them survive Sadako’s wrath. If you’ve noticed I haven’t mentioned the Ju-On sub-plot that much that’s because the movie also doesn’t feel the need to develop it outside of sprinkling in some random scares with the Kaeki’s every now and then (praise fodder kills) to remind us this is a crossover movie. That aside, the psychics are the best part of the movie outside of Morishige. Tamao is sarcastic and brutal as all hell which is made all the better by the fact that she’s played by kid. Imagine a pre-teen casually brushing off your stupidity and nonchalantly mentioning how screwed you are. It’s genuinely funny. Likewise, Keizō is a snarky badass, who uses his psychic abilities to fight spirits. Watching him in action is like watching a mime tangentially affecting the world with their motions – it’s honestly kind of cool. Unfortunately, their arrival coincides with the disappearance of Morishige who’s written off in an absurd but incredibly comedic way. We have to lose an interesting character to get two interesting characters, which is a tragedy when everyone else in the movie is astoundingly boring. Needless to say, the psychics come up with the masterplan to have Kayako and Sadako fight each other, hoping that the two curses will be strong enough to obliterate one another and save any potential victims. At some point Suzuka gets involved, but like I said it’s not that important.

So you have a ton of interesting elements – Japanese style exorcism, badass psychics, a teacher obsessed with meeting a ghost that will kill him upon contact, the changing of the urban myth behind the cursed video tape, and two of the most iconic J-Horror characters of all time- that all get so bogged down in the minutia of boring, generic, and seemingly irrelevant story threads that overwhelm the run-time of the movie. On top of that, while I think the Ring storyline is at least given an okay run through in setting up the power level for the ultimate battle, the Ju-On storyline feels like an afterthought. Even in the moments dedicated to it, Toshio gets most of the screen-time while Kayako gets a few scraps of attention.

If the story was inverted – that is the interesting elements were the primary story and the girls were the background elements they should have been – this movie would have kicked serious ass. Just imagine how awesome a supernatural noir would be. Two psychic detectives-for-hire fighting off spirits with a variety of abilities who then get work from a client hell bent on meeting Sadako and living. Tie that in with the discussion about how urban legends morph and change (the curse going from 7 days to 2 days) to reference how beliefs and ideas can change the metaphysical makeup of spirits to keep them relevant in the status quo (close to something like Noragami ) and boom – both Kayako and Sadako can be different but related to their previous movie incarnations giving the director tons of leeway to explore them and morph them in a way that the audience hasn’t seen. That movie would be the bees knees.

From left to right:  Keizō (Masanobu Andō), Tamao (Mai Kikuchi), and  Yūri (Mizuki Yamamoto). The two psychics are informing Yūri of their plan, but this still could have come from an awesome psychic noir movie. Another misuse of a great pair of characters.

Instead, the story we do get feels like an uninspired mashup that’s 65% Ring , 20% interesting J-horror stuff like psychics, and 15% Ju-On. As a Ring/The Ring mega fan, I could have forgiven this if at least the storyline explained the 2 day versus 7 day update on the curse in an interesting way to give the story something distinct about it, but the change is literally glossed over like an afterthought. It actually feels like they changed the number of days before demise so that the movie would move faster. I also could have gotten into the movie if the final fight was a bigger portion of the run time and actively gave both Kayako and Sadako chances to beat the undead matter out of one another. The worst part about the fight is it actually starts off with gusto and gets you amped for what’s going to come next, before quickly culminating in a CGI fiesta that’s wrapped up in a few minutes. Either go the route of Freddy vs. Jason and embrace a schlock of a story to give us amazing fights or try and give us a good story that does justice to the narrative strengths of both franchises. This movie does neither. It just teases us with what could’ve been.

It sounds like I’ve really ragged on the movie a lot, which I have. However I want to stress that the movie is decent at a technical level. It’s not like the movie is shot poorly (outside of a few moments of awful CGI) or has any bad performances (which are decent by and large). It’s just that it doesn’t make use of any of these elements effectively. In general, Shiraishi knows how to build up tension in a scene and doesn’t rely on jump scares. He’s good at edging the audience out, priming them for something genuinely scary. The issue is none of these build-ups are met with anything that does justice to what came before. For example, the movie constantly teases the nature of Sadako’s new cursed tape. The first two times it’s watched by characters, all the audience can see is reactions as opposed to the tape itself. When we finally get to see it on it’s third viewing, we’re fully ready and amped for the reveal. What could be on it that’s so terrifying? Unfortunately, like most of the reveals in the movie, the revelation of the footage on the tape is uninspired and ultimately disappointing. It genuinely feels like a case of a movie fighting itself, with small sections of it desperate to come to the forefront to elevate the material being beaten back by the slogging and more derivative sections. That being said, the actual ending of the movie is actually kind of great from a fanservice point of view – I mean the literal last moments of the movie when nothing more of substance can happen, which is why it’s not a huge factor in my review. I can’t say it made up for the disappointments that came before, but it gives me hope that a good crossover might be possible.

That brings me to the most important question. Would I recommend the movie? Maybe. It depends on the person. General horror fan? No. Fan of Ju-On? No. Fan of Ring? Maybe. J-Horror Fanatic? Yes, with the caveat to go in with absolutely no expectations. I think if you’re into the ambiance of J-Horror movies and go in knowing there’s not going to be a huge fight, you’ll find the experience acceptable. My only hope is one day, someone can genuinely go and revitalize these titans of the genre. If this movie is proof of anything, it’s that there are still more than enough interesting ideas to play around with to give Sadako and Kayako a new life. We can only hope that it happens.

REPORT CARD

TLDRSadako vs Kayako should’ve been the J-Horror equivalent of Freddy vs. Jason but manages to fall short in almost every way possible. The story is contrived and feels more like a Ring remake than a combination of the Ring and Ju-On. The interesting bits the story does introduce are never developed into something more substantive. The climactic battle is only a few minutes long and barely manages to let the titular spirits shine through while fighting. Would I recommend this movie to most people? No. However, I do think J-Horror super fans can enjoy the movie if they temper their expectations.
Rating4.8/10
GradeF

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report

Review: The Autopsy of Jane Doe

Director(s)André Øvredal
Principal CastEmile Hirsch as Austin
Brian Cox as Tommy

Olwen Kelly as Jane Doe
Ophelia Lovibond as Emma
Michael McElhatton as Sheriff Burke
Release Date2014
Language(s)English
Running Time 86 minutes

The title sequence opens up on words slowly being revealed under layers of dirt. As each member of the movie is revealed, their name and role is blown away by the wind until finally the title of the movie shows for a brief few seconds.

The title card is slowly unearthed from the dirt like a secret hidden away and waiting to be uncovered. An signal of things to come.

The camera cuts to an outside view of a house- fuzzy and upside down. As the shot slowly reorients itself to look normal the movie cuts to outside of the house, changing from a point of view shot to an establishing shot. This is a hint of things to come- an agency that has just been unearthed that remains in the background – disrupting the objectivity of what is to occur.

Sherrif Burke enters the house – the scene of a crime that he and his crew can’t seem to figure out. As the camera slowly moves throughout the abode, revealing the badly damaged and bloodied corpses all around, it eventually ends up in the basement where Burke discovers a clean and unsullied female corpse, preserved under a layer of dirt. Compared to the mutilated bodies aboveground, this Jane Doe has absolutely no sign of external injury. Baffled by the strange discovery, Burke moves the body town to the Tilden funeral home, eager to get a cause of death by the morning.

The movie cuts to the funeral home which is run by Tommy, an older and emotionally jaded man, and his younger and more optimistic son, Austin. Before showcasing the father-son duo at work, the camera establishes the setting for the audience, weaving through the mazelike hallway. This home for the dead zigs and zags with very little room to maneuver around. There’s only one way up and out of the underground dwelling – an elevator that whirs with power as it moves. The camera constantly showcases a curved mirror on the corner of one of the hallways, which gives a reflection that seems to only give impressions of what it sees. Eventually the camera settles on Tommy and Austin performing an autopsy on a badly burned body, as the radio plays in the background giving their morbid work a moreupbeat soundtrack. The latter is goaded into giving his own assessment before being corrected by his father, who reminds him their job is not to figure out why a cadaver is there but instead to figure out how it got to the position its in. It’s clear there’s an disconnect between the two as Tommy injects a sympathy into his work for the deceased as opposed to his father who rationally approaches the work, determined to get to the bottom of each as. As he reminds his son afterwards, every body has a secret. Some are just better at hiding them than others. These words gain a haunting resonance as the movie continues, becoming the thematic thread that ties the relevant sub-plots together. It is just as they finish up with the corpse at their table, that Burke shows up at their location with Jane Doe.

As Austin is just about to leave for the night to go on a date with his partner, Emma, he feels a sense of guilt at leaving his father alone to deal with a fresh new corpse and postpones his rendezvous in order to help his dad out. As evidence by his playful pleading with Emma, this is commonplace behavior, as Austin feels the need to take care of his father after the loss of his mother. He ventures back down to the autopsy room and takes his place with Tommy, eager to finish the nights work and get to more pleasant activities. They begin the autopsy with gusto, intrigued by the unmarred body that is somehow dead. As they perform their procedural tests, the camera cuts to Jane Doe, imbuing with her with a strange sense of agency despite her appearance. During the procedure, the radio the Tildens have on continues to blare their upbeat and positive music.

However, the music quickly changes to “Open Up Your Heart (And Let the Sunshine In)” when Tommy gets to ready to perform invasive procedures on the body.

As the song continues, the movie once again cuts to Jane Doe, as though she has something to do with the random occurrence. The odd choice of song becomes especially eerie in contrast to the brutal precision by which her body is torn apart. The Tildens are baffled by a series of impossible discoveries- injuries on the inside of the body that would be impossible to inflict onto someone without some reflection on the outside only scratch at the surface of the rabbit hole they go down. The deeper they prod, the stranger circumstances at the funeral home seem to get. The radio constantly switches to either to “Open Up Your Heart (And Let the Sunshine In)” or a news report that indicates that there’s a massive amount of flooding happening, a strange juxtaposition between sunshine and dampening rainfall to match with the strange contrast between the pristine condition of Jane’s body versus her brutal internal injuries. The whole time, the camera lingers on Jane’s gaze, which penetrates the audience as if she’s watching and controlling the situation around her. If Tommy’s statement about secrets is correct, then what nefarious truth is being hidden by a body whose presence can force a radio to play a song about sunshine whenever her cadaver is further ripped apart.

Matching the strange occurrences happening within the autopsy room are the eerie sounds of bells and movements outside in the hallways. Early on Tommy reveals that in the past, bodies had bells tied around their ankles so that mistaken comatose people could ring and indicate they were alive as opposed to dead. As things ramp up, these noises become more and more prominent, prompting some intense investigation scenes which constantly amp up the tension. Images are reflected on the curved mirror, never clear enough for us or the character’s to get a good view of who or what is roaming through the halls. This interplay – Jane’s face staring at the camera, the radio switching from happy song to eerie news story, reflections in the mirror, creepy noises abound, and the autopsy proper- keeps the movie flowing at a steady pace all while keeping the audiences creeped out. There’s never a moment for us to breathe a sigh of relief. That’s what I call effective horror filmmaking.

This is a movie about assumptions and the way we play into into them willingly and/or unknowingly. These assumptions are based on information that’s available to us and the way it matches up with the presuppositions we have about the world around, which lead us to to radically different interpretations of the same event. At the level of the main story Tommy’s interpretations of Jane’s condition are based on his rationalistic and procedural interpretation of the way bodies react to physical stimuli. He’s obsessed with explaining how an unblemished body on the outside can host such disgusting injuries within. Meanwhile Austin’s interpretation is based on trying to place Jane within a context that explains why this even happened to her. As Tommy noted earlier, if everyone has secrets and those secrets are hidden, then how do these interpretations find a finality? They’re based on what an agent wants us to know about them which might radically differ from what we “should” know about them. This struggle to discover Jane’s truth bleeds over to the Tildens’ struggle to understand one another and their own shared trauma, tying the supernatural investigation to an emotional center we can relate to. The plot points build on and contrasts one another in a dialect of interpretation that really hits home the importance of not taking anything for granted.

If there’s an issue with the film’s story structure, it has more to do when certain emotional moments are revealed as opposed to the reveals themselves. There’s obviously a tension and emotional bond between the father-son duo that’s constantly hinted and teased at. There’s a reason Tommy is doting on his dad and a reason his dad is so focused on his work and unable to open up. Up to the second act, this secretive bond is slowly prodded open, revealing the heart of what’s going on. However, the movie ramps the pace of the reveal up unexpectedly and jarringly in the third act, as it comes directly after another unrelated emotionally jarring incident involving the two characters. Compared to the slow and effective pacing up to then, the simultaneous gut punch loses efficacy because there’s not enough time for the characters or us to process the importance of what’s being said. Substantively, the revelation is fantastic – it ties into the themes of the story and compliments the final reveals related to Jane Doe. The issue is it structurally feels haphazard which removes a lot of the heft it could have packed.

However, despite this slight misstep there is still an emotional resonance the movie manages to tap into due the acting power of its main duo. Brian Cox’s may portray a cold and unopen father for most of the movie, but he constantly makes it apparent he cares for Hirsch’s character through the way he smiles at his son’s growth in the autopsy craft or through his concern for his son’s health as things get dicer in the story. Watching him make the decisions he does in the third act tug at heartstrings and feel earned despite the rushed emotional reveal I talked about earlier. He shows a genuine care in his eyes that makes you realize in spite of his stoicism, he possesses a deep love for his last remaining family. Meanwhile, Hirsch perfectly encapsulates the role of a son who’s desperate to help his father, but unable to find a way how. He shows a stubbornness in his demeanor that makes sense given the way he’s “bossed” around on the job but never lets that collapse into a frustration. Their performances naturally compliment one another and their believable relationship is what gives the movie’s ending as much power as it has.

That being said, the star of the movie is Olwen Kelly, who manages to terrify the audience despite never moving an inch from the operating table she’s placed on. It would have been easy to go for a dummy. It is a movie about performing an autopsy on a dead body. However, Øvredal’s decision to go with a live actor is what makes the cuts to Kelly’s face so unnerving. The reason she feels alive – the reason a cadaver feels like it has a genuine agency in the events of the movie – is because the camera is on an actress and not some synthetic stand-in. Despite being naked, Øvredal’s camera never exploits the actor and constantly positions her in a way that makes her the center of the room. Even when her breasts are exposed on frame, they’re never the focal point. It’s always her gaze – a pair of cloudy eyes that are impossible to read but seemingly rip into the soul of the audience. There are no “sexy” shots. It’s all about respect, and as a result Kelly manages to give a lifeless, immobile character a sense of power and presence without ever moving a muscle. That’s good filmmaking and a testament to the importance of acting in the most subtle ways.

From left to right: Tommy (Brian Cox), Jane Doe (Olwen Kelly), and Austin (Emile Hirsch). Despite being in the nude, Kelly’s body is never sexualized and is treated with respect which in turns gives her character, Jane, a presence that feels equal to the Tildens who are performing the autopsy. Shots similar to this fill the movie with Kelly being made the focal point without the movie ever feeling exploitative. Even during an action which could be made sexual, like photographing, the camera shows a more neutral view. This is classy filmmaking that serves a purpose.

Does the movie nail every punch it throws? No. But when the journey is as unsettling and powerful as this one turns out to be, that’s a minor complaint. If you’re looking for a supernatural flick that’s willing to subvert your expectations in ways that are earned as opposed to cheap or are just looking for a movie that gets under your skin, look no further. The secrets hidden beneath the surface of The Autopsy of Jane Doe are worth digging into.

REPORT CARD

TLDRThe Autopsy of Jane Doe is a supernatural thriller that proves tight execution and meaningful camera work are all that’s necessary to unnerve and creep out audiences. The story of a father-son duo desperate to figure out the secrets of a deceased Jane Doe invites the audience to think critically about secrets and whether or not we can ever really know someone as well as we think we do. There’s an emotional heft, disturbing visual scares, and an constant sense that something’s wrong. Plus, Olwen Kelly manages to give an unmoving corpse a sense of agency and character. That should be reason enough for any genre fan to check this one out.
Rating9.3/10
GradeA

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report

Review: Suspiria

Director(s)Dario Argento
Principal CastJessica Harper as Suzy Bannion
Stefania Casini as Sarah
Alida Valli as Miss Tanner
Joan Bennett as Madame Blanc
Flavio Bucci as Daniel
Barbara Magnolfi as Olga
Udo Kier as Dr. Frank Mandel
Rudolf Schündler as Professor Milius
Eva Axén as Pat 
Release Date1977
Language(s)Italian
Running Time 99 minutes

The sound of drums progresses into a hypnotic rock lullaby, punctuated with whispers, screeches, and ominous ad libs. As the opening credits continue and the title track, aptly titled “Suspiria”, continues to play, narration suddenly cuts over the same, an indication to the audience that the following story will operate more as a poetic fairy tale than a straightforward tale consistent with a logic we normally expect. The narrator explains that a young American woman, Suzy Bannion, has decided to perfect her ballet skills at a prestigious dance academy in Freiburg, Germany and has flown out to attend it. As the narration ends the score becomes more violent and cuts out. The opening credits give way to Suzy entering the Freiburg airport. Everything seems normal – that is until the door leading out of the airport opens up. As they open, “Suspiria” plays once again. However, as soon as the doors close, the score disappears. This sequence repeats itself – the score playing while the doors open and disappearing when the close again – signals to the audience that outside the world of the airport the rules of reality no longer apply. Suzy exits the airport and the score suddenly bursts through the reality of the world culminating in a crescendo with a burst of rain to visually signify the torrential chaos to come.

Suzy desperately tries to flag down a cab, eventually finding one but becoming soaked in the process. As she gets in the vehicle to dry herself, the lighting in the movie reminds the audience that this is now a world of fantasy, as the screen is tinged with neon blues and reds, interrupted by bits of yellow periodically. The reds become an orange while the blues become a green, creating an everchanging color palette which keeps the eyes fully engaged with the screen. Harper’s face becomes the canvas upon which the colors dance making Suzy appear as though she’s being interpellated by and into this new phantasmal world.

Her cab makes its way through an ominous forest filled with a plethora of tall and imposing trees, as Goblin hisses “Witch” in an eerie and disorienting way as the score still rages on. The cab pulls up to the school, an imposing building with a red exterior as the score comes to a close. She exits the cab and sees a girl, Pat, muttering nonsensical worlds by the entranceway and running away in a hurry. Suzy attempts to get into the school but is told to go away by someone on the other side. Desperate to get out of the rain, she gets back in the cab and looks for a place to stay until she can solve the issue the next day. As the car drives back through the woods, she sees Pat running through the woods. A new song starts to play – “Witch” which replaces the melodic “Suspiria” with a more intense and aggressive beat that conveys an immediate sense of danger as opposed to wonder. The movie switches from Suzy in the car to Pat as she she enters a dormitory whose architecture radiates an absolute aesthetic beauty, with pleasing geometric compositions littering every part of the room. The walls are bathed in in a blood red. However, the real oddity with this entrance room is its size, which feels exceptionally large when compared to Pat’s small frame, highlighting how tiny and powerless she is compared to the threat that she’s trying to get away from. The room threatens to swallow her up whole.

Pat (Eva Axén) entering the dormitory which seeks to envelop her.


She hurriedly rushes up the ornately decorated elevator to visit and stay with a friend of hers for the night. Obviously perturbed, even the smallest disturbance sets her off. She’s worried, but we still don’t know what it is that’s tormenting her. The camera switches to a view of her from outside the building, slowly zooming in like a typical POV shot in Argento’s other giallo movies. As she continues to look out, she happens upon a dimly lit set of yellow eyes and is immediately accosted by a pair of arms which break through the window, dragging her out of the living unit. She’s brutally murdered along with her friend, and the movie returns to Suzy, finally ready to start after giving the audience a preview of everything they should be expecting.

This is Argento’s masterpiece Suspiria, a fairy tale from hell born straight from German Expressionism given life through immaculate sets, gorgeous neon lighting, a bombastic score that never lets up, and compositions that make the piece feel more like a set of paintings than an actual movie.

The plot is sparse and as the narration at the beginning informs us, is more a throughline by which a series of nightmarish images and ideas are allowed to come to life. The story loosely involves Suzy experiencing a strange series of events while attending the supposedly prestigious dance academy. Pat’s death is merely the domino that sets the series of unexplainable happenings in motion. Who or what is the killer and what is their actual motivation? Certain scenes in the movie hearken back to traditional giallo images (ex: a POV shot of the killer looking at Pat and her subsequent brutal and gory murder), while other shots invoke a supernatural feeling that can’t be explained. The contrast helps drive the mystery and Suzy’s journey forward.

Pat (Eva Axén) being viewed at from the outside by some outside forces, hearkening back to the POV shots Argento loves to use in his giallos.


At a higher level , the movie is a coming of age story, about a young girl trying to find her place in a new and alienating world. One of Suzy’s first tasks is even getting to the school, because her accent makes it hard for the German driver to understand what she’s actually saying. Once she gets to the school she’s denied entrance. Once she’s allowed into the school, she’s immediately bombarded with requests to pay money for various services and items. It’s like a nightmare of what a kid has to look forward to as an adult, and this idea is reflected in every aspect of the set. The rooms are large and seem to swallow up the characters’ agency. Doors are slightly out of reach and make her and her classmates seem infantile. She’s constantly put in a position where her decisions are ignored in favor of instructors at the school who seem to have their own priorities. This larger thematic schema gives the horror a new dimension. It’s scary enough to navigate an alien world, but doing that as a younger person broaching into adulthood and being thrust into a new dimension of responsibility is something else all together. Combined with the supernatural happenings and bouts of violence that surround her, the world of Suspiria feels more like a gorgeous hellscape.

This is reflected in the genius visual design of the movie, which might be one of the best uses of color in cinema – full stop. Almost every scene is draped in a neon blue or red – the former representing an impending doom and the latter representing violence and death. At every turn these colors are transformed by the presence of a yellow, which transforms passive moments into active moments of tension. As red turns to orange, the characters and audience are lulled into a false sense of security that quickly evaporates as it becomes obvious that the characters are doomed. Likewise, as blue turns to green the danger that’s targeting the characters becomes active and threatens to fully envelop them in its violence. Luciano Tovoli works an ethereal magic in every scene in this way, by pushing colors to their absolute limits. There are dozens of shots which can be printed and framed as works of arts. A movie is lucky if it gets a few, but Tovoli makes Suspiria a buffet filled with them.

This combined with the score transforms the movie from a simple murder mystery into cinematic poetry, as every moment is punctuated with Goblin’s score. No piece of music ever feels like it overstays its welcome and each of them immediately tell the audience what they need to know – a character is being observed by the killer, a character is in danger, things are going absolutely off the walls. It’s hard to watch the movie and not be moved along by the score which is not only effective, but genuinely catchy. From the sharp and loud pounding noises in “Witch” that get the heart rate pumping to the whispery and otherworldly “Suspiria” the soundscape of the movie feels like a whole other character.

Keeping all the pieces of the movie moving together is Argento’s trademark pacing and macabre sensibilities. Just because he’s tackling a different horror sub-genre doesn’t mean that his usual bag of tricks won’t work. In fact I’d argue that the supernatural sensibilities of the story (due in part to the wonderful work of his undermentioned fellow screenwriter, Daria Nicolodi) let him push his ideas to their absolute extreme. Whereas his previous movies, like Deep Red or The Bird With the Crystal Plumage , had to obey some level of logistics when it came to killing victims and solving the mystery, Suspiria is allowed to explore sequences that would otherwise be impossible. Characters die in ways that you’d never be able to predict which helps sustain a palpable sense of tension throughout the movie. It’s impossible to know how violence will happen , but because the colors and music tell you something is going to happen, every moment is injected with a dread that only continues to build one bloody death at a time. The first 9 minutes of the movie starts the tension off right and the movie never lets up until the end credit sequence starts up again.

Many people place this as one of the greatest horror movies of all time. Many others go one step further and rank Suspiria as one of the most important cinematic achievements to date (given how many movies have been influenced by its visual style, I’d say that’s probably accurate) . I consider myself firmly in both of these camps. I’m someone who usually loves a good, layered, and intricate plot that ties into a nuanced set of themes. However, when it comes to Suspiria, all those inhibitions seem to float away because the magic of the movie, the poetic way it moves through its score and visual style, speaks to something more important than a need for logic and precision. This is a cinema in the purest sense of the word. It’s a piece of art that must be experienced and not explained. If you haven’t yet had the chance to see this masterpiece, I urge you to give it a chance. Let Argento take you to a world of nightmares.

Report Card

TLDRSuspiria is a masterpiece that has to be seen to be understood. Its sensuous compositions are visually arresting at all times, with many stills from the movie being good enough to be framed as wall art. The score by Goblin keeps the tension high, turning the barebones story into a audiovisual poem that operates on the logic of a nightmare. The supernatural leanings of the story give Argento ample room to explore his macabre tendencies and help create some of the most striking displays of violence
Rating10/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .

 

Review: Hellraiser

Director(s)Clive Barker
Principal CastClare 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 Date1987
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.

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

TLDRHellraiser 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.”
Rating9.7/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .

 

Review: Suspiria (2018)

Director(s)Luca Guadagnino
Principal CastDakota 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 Date2018
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.


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.


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.


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

TLDRSuspiria 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
Rating9.9/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .

 

Film Review: Antichrist – 2009

Director(s)Lars von Trier
Principal CastWillem Dafoe as Him
Charlotte Gainsbourg as Her
Release Date2009
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.

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.

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

TLDRAntichrist 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.
Rating10/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .

 

Review: Don’t Look Now

Director(s)Nicolas Roeg
Principal CastJulie 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 Date1973
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.

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

TLDRDon’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.
Rating10/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .

 

Review: Paranormal Activity

Director(s)Oren Peli
Principal CastKatie Featherston as Katie
Micah Sloat as Micah
Mark Fredrichs as Dr. Fredrichs
Release Date2007
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

TLDRParanormal 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.
Rating9.0/10
GradeA

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report

Review: Hell House LLC III: Lake of Fire

Director(s)Stephen Cognetti
Principal CastGabriel 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 Date2019
Language(s)English
Running Time85 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

TLDRIf 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.
Rating8.0/10
GradeB

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .