Final Destination 5

*** out of ****

As “Final Destination 5” begins, so does the opening titles credits sequence; which is probably one of the coolest I’ve seen not only out of the entire 5-film series, but also out of any modern horror flick at all. It’s the sort of radical, charged, energetic work of high-power technology that gets my blood pumping for the rest of the picture to come; and fortunately, all that built up anticipation was not for nothing. There’s plenty more to the picture than just an awesome opener, although I suppose the ready detractors and haters of the franchise will be far too blind to see that. No matter, the film was made for gorehounds and genre fans, by gorehounds and genre fans; so if you’re in the crowd that it’s aiming to please, you most likely will not leave the movie disappointed or even the slightest bit let down. If you’re like me and you have certain expectations whenever you go into a movie that’s either like this or within the same franchise; a smile will take no time to grace your silly face.

It’s an ancient, long-running tradition of the “Final Destination” films to also start out rather strong with a provocative and completely over-the-top opening sequence; and it would seem that all but the fourth entry – hilariously dubbed “THE Final Destination” – are completely capable of delivering the insane and gruesome goods. The fifth installment in the franchise starts off with a very well-done bridge collapse scene; in which the same old formula of one character – the hero (Nicholas D’Agosto) – predicting the possible outcome of the tragic incident. The hero is on a bus with his co-workers, on their way someplace, although they never get there, so who cares where it was? Anyways, yeah; the bridge successfully collapses, just like in the deadly premonition, although the hero is able to save his friends and acquaintances from their gory deaths.

But we know how the story goes from there; and it almost seems like “Final Destination 5” knows it. One by one, the inanimate and un-seeable force known as Death picks off the survivors one by one; with Tony Todd always lurking nearby the crime scene to look creepy and ultimately pick up the mess. And of course, the hero will be one of the last ones standing; if not THE last one standing overall. But you know…when it comes to these formula plots; I’m not bothered, it’s a good formula for a movie like this. It’s not the sort of movie that you can call high art, or even good cinema; but good entertainment it is, and it certainly provokes the popping of the popcorn.

As usual, I came here for the gory deaths. These are often elaborate, colorful, and even laugh-out-loud funny; there’s a tongue-in-cheek aura to the stylization of such scenes, and it makes them all the more fun to watch, in spite of all the blood spilled (and believe me, for this installment especially, that’s a lot of blood). Take for example a scene where an arrogant chubby bastard goes to a massage parlor and partakes in an acupuncture session; left alone there with needles in all parts of his body, with Death lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce in the form of nasty coincidence. In this case, the fat-ass falls off from his table and onto the needles that pierce his very flesh onto the gasoline-drenched floor below him. The room catches fire (obviously), but in the end, it’s a statue of Buddha that means goodnight for the fat man.

I mention this scene, among others, because it’s most definitely an instant favorite as far as the deaths in this series – which is all about the deaths and the kills and the gory goodness of it all – go. There are a few other really good ones, like the demise of a young beauty (Jacqueline MacInnes Wood) by way of laser eye surgery, and a gymnastics session that goes horribly, horribly wrong. I could go on and on about all the scenes that I liked; but I live in constant fear of spoiling too much in my reviews, so as far as those little details (that could potentially spoil the movie for all who consider themselves a curious party) go, I’ll stop right there. But I’m not (quite) done yet.

“Final Destination 5” gives you exactly what you want and expect from a film of its kind; it’s bloody, it’s messy (it attempts to blend the good ol’ camp of the other films and the taut suspense of the first), and it’s highly entertaining in a stupid, guilty pleasure sort of way. If you’re looking for good acting or even good storytelling (truly, the only twist on the general idea of the series that’s presented here is the ability to sacrifice someone else’s life for your own), then you might want to look elsewhere; but I admire the work done by director Steven Quale, who makes damn good use of 3D technology. This is a well-filmed, thrilling, suspenseful, and absolutely balls-out gruesome piece of work; and it won’t appeal to all audiences, but it’s a very solid night at the movies. It is what it is; a sleazy exploitation of pop-out gore effects, hot (but clothed) women, and classic horror clichés. It proves that, if under the direction of a very talented man or woman, even an idea as absurd as the one presented in the “Final Destination” films can be magically transformed into some impressive and entertaining eye candy. I wonder where they’ll take the premise next.

Grace

*** out of ****

A baby’s cry – no, a baby’s scream – is quite possibly one of the most annoying sounds known to mankind; this is something that both writer-director Paul Solet and his debut feature “Grace” know very well. In a cinematic legacy of children from hell and toddlers from beyond the grave; here’s an artful horror flick where the child is not from hell, nor is it undead. No, it’s a normal baby; just with some ugly, gruesome peculiarities. That is what makes it a horror film in the first place; because a baby is a baby, but a baby that vomits blood and loses all its hair at the mere gentle touch of a brush is something else, and signifies a young child that might break instead of bounce if one were to drop it.

The parent of this child is Madeline (Jordan Ladd). She’s tried getting pregnant a few times, but one time while she is engaged in sexual intercourse with her husband Michael, things seem to work out for once. A few seconds later and bang, Madeline is pregnant, and she’s living the vegan life. Michael’s mother Vivian (Gabrielle Rose) does not approve of the foods that Madeline is indulging in; nor does she approve in her choice of doctors. Instead, she recommends one that she trusts quite a bit; only to have her suggestions rejected by both members of the couple. Their choice is to go to a birthing clinic; where they meet the kindly woman who runs it, Dr. Patricia Lang (Samantha Ferris). They seem to like her; and she seems to like them. But that won’t get the baby born. It’s only a matter of time now.

Indeed, it is. Madeline suddenly feels increasing pain in her chest area one night, and has to be rushed to the hospital shortly thereafter. It is there that Patricia prevents the doctors from beginning the labor process; as they intended to. So Michael and Madeline drive home the next night, their child still with them. But then, a fatal car crash changes everything; killing Michael, killing the baby, and leaving Madeline alive. It is then that she refers to Patricia and the clinic for further help; delivering her unborn child and miraculously nursing it (her) back to health, and naming the child Grace.

 

Was it a miracle – a blessing – or was it a bad omen for things to come? The child seems pretty alright at first; although it doesn’t take much time for the strange stuff to start happening. The flies seem to like it around the baby’s crib, and the kid doesn’t appear to want to drink her milk. At least not from the bottle. She’ll take it from mommy’s breast; but then again, it’s soon revealed that what she’s taking in is not milk at all, but rather blood, and it would certainly appear that this is her preferred beverage, contrary to the conventional baby foods and needs. So it’s kind of like “Hellraiser”, but with a screaming baby. A screaming baby that upchucks half the blood that it absorbs, develops odd and painful looking rashes all around its little body, and looks consistently sick enough to die just about any minute. But then again, Madeline doesn’t look much better either.

That makes sense, though; she’s succumbed to depression. She’s just lost her husband, and his mother won’t get off her back about the baby and other unnecessary bullshit, and the baby is a loud and prevalent whiner. If “Grace” can’t create great and memorable characters; it can certainly create a situation that’s real and unnerving enough for us to sympathize for what they’re being forced to endure. The film shifts rather abruptly from a sweet little mother-daughter relationship to a disturbing infectious horror-thriller in what feels like a blink of an eye. That probably won’t sit well with a lot of people, but if you’re looking for a genre picture that’s a little less conventional than the rest, I think this will do. It’s different, it’s disturbing and best of all, it’s believable. The acting is solid enough, and the direction was taut enough, for me to buy into the situation and its many horrors. There isn’t necessarily a hint of greatness at any point in the movie; but if Solet can make stuff like cat food disgusting and distressing, I’d say he’s a new-found talent.

I understand why the film will be criticized by a lot of people. If you do not care about the characters, then you cannot care about their problems; that is an age-old theory, and let’s not treat “Grace” as if it’s any exception, because it’s not. I admired the film because it has a simple aim – to make the audience feel uncomfortable and disturbed – and in my mind, that’s just what it does. As an avid horror fan, I was quite surprised by how down-right nasty and gross some of the scenes were; particularly a few that came around near the end. Now, that isn’t always a compliment; but it is in this case. “Grace” is by no means an entertaining film, but it is one that I just couldn’t look away from; I blame the damn baby screams.

The Box

*** out of ****

A movie as perplexing as “The Box” is a rare find, especially when it’s a very mainstream picture. But then again, it isn’t easy to imagine that Richard Kelly, whose breakthrough feature was the illusive and fascinating “Donnie Darko”, is capable of making a mainstream movie for Hollywood. But if he ever did, this would be it. Now, I know that it isn’t easy to enjoy or even appreciate a movie like this on first glance – heck, I didn’t even like it upon my initial viewing – but I’m a strong believer that anything Richard Kelly directs is worth looking at least a second look, if not a third. With all three of his movies so far, I’ve gone back and revisited their labyrinths of beauty and sometimes all-out frustration; and all but once, my desire for a greater understanding of the material has been met and satisfied. In my opinion, that’s the magic of a Richard Kelly film; there is almost always intelligence, underneath the surface, even if the surface is rough and unconventional.

 

It is early morning, and the ring of a doorbell wakes the Lewis family – Norma (Cameron Diaz), Arthur (James Marsden), and son Walter -, revealing a box left on their doorstep by some anonymous person who takes off almost instantly in a black car. Norma takes the box inside, and for the rest of the morning, the family ponders it. However, they have lives to return to (Norma is a High School teacher; Arthur works for NASA), so they put these thoughts on hold, at least, until they return home. This is when the man who delivered the box stops by the house for a nice chat, in which he introduces himself – as Arlington Steward (Frank Langella) – and informs Norma of the purpose that the box intends to serve.

During his visit, Mr. Steward explains that under the glass dome that sits at the top of the box is a little red button. To push the button would mean two things: somebody in the world, unbeknownst to the Lewis family, would die, and also, they would receive a payment of one million dollars. While the guilt of being responsible for the death of another troubles Norma; the family needs financial support, and Arthur doesn’t seem to be (currently) capable of providing that and neither does she. So once Mr. Steward leaves and Arthur comes home; they make their final decision on what to do. Ultimately, Norma pushes the button; and promptly, Steward returns to supply them with their promised payment. And it’s assumed that this is the end, but in fact, it’s just the beginning.

The film successfully toys with our minds for quite some time; there’s a cold-blooded murder committed nearby where the Lewis’ live; which involved a husband, who was reported to be kindly and perfectly civilized, shooting his wife dead and frightening his young daughter, who the police later found locked in the household bathroom. There’s the possibility that this could be the person that the Lewis’ killed through their decision to push the button; but by the time the story has advanced more after this scene, it becomes clear that even more possibilities are, well, possible. In the opinions of many, that might be confusing and infuriating; but to me, it’s intriguing, and it demonstrates plenty of skill on Kelly’s part. “The Box” certainly proves a lot of things, but above all, it proves that Kelly can craft an engaging and intelligent mystery-suspense story, working from a short story by Richard Matheson.

The film is at one moment absurd, and another kind of believable. Setting the story in the 1970’s was quite possibly Kelly’s best choice; since back then, you could still have door-to-door salesmen (which Mr. Steward KIND OF is), and thus setting it in a more modern time would have come off as just completely unbelievable. Sure, there are still elements of the story – in the form of plot holes – that are difficult to accept or let alone fully comprehend, but this seems like a personal piece for Kelly, and it brings back memories of “Darko”. That could of course mean different things for everyone; but to me it means a return to the flawed complexities of Kelly’s wicked, brilliant, dark imagination. There are scenes of striking visual beauty here (the cinematography is gorgeous); such as one where Arthur meets Steward’s “wife” in a library, where she leads him to a room in which three rectangular water blocks rise up and act as a sort of gateway, each representing something different. But only one leads to salvation, as the wife says.

There’s also a really cool and interesting aspect of the story that Kelly toys around with for a while; that Mr. Steward has employees, even though he claims to have an employer himself; perhaps he’s just high up there on his obscure food-chain of…whatever. Anyways, these “employees” are like mindless zombies; and they pop up to spy on the Lewis family whenever they get suspicious of Steward’s actions, the box, and his identity. The employees alone create some of the film’s creepiest and most tense moments; although Kelly is able to create suspense and atmosphere otherwise, which is good, because no one wants a movie entirely devoted to the employees rather than the employers, even if they aren’t even talked about at great length, or with great depth. Oh well, at least the random nosebleeds got some whacky explanation.

So while it may be confusing and in need of a slightly improved Director’s Cut somewhere down the road (you know, to fill up the plot holes); “The Box” is still a thoroughly engaging mystery that keeps the intrigue and distant fascination consistent throughout. It isn’t perfectly entertaining to my taste, but I couldn’t look away; seeing it the second time introduced me to a whole new movie, one that rewards its audience as long as they’re willing to suspend their disbelief. It has all the qualities of a Richard Kelly movie: a mish-mash of many different philosophical and existential themes, what seems or looks like time travel, and Holmes Osborne. It’s not perfect, and it’s not going to impress a lot of people (particularly those who can’t get over a few silly lines of stupid dialogue and some illogical concepts); but I still liked it nevertheless, for what it was, and what it aspires to be. It makes it possible for me to forget “Southland Tales” all-together and acknowledge that Kelly has the skills to back up his many ideas; with “The Box”, he still does, and there’s a sense that he always will.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)

**** out of ****

I’m not one to judge a film solely for its place in history, or its influence on the many motion pictures that may have followed. Quality, above all, certainly means a lot to me; and it should. One should critique, or appreciate, a film based on both personal taste and the overall observation of how good, how bad, or how “meh” a movie is. I thought it appropriate to say this now, as I review “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”, because it’s films like this one which are often (unfairly) bombarded with harsh criticism from the beloved audience members of the modern age. It’s a horror film released in 1920, so there’s no blood, gore, sex, violence, or profanity; and the horror fanatics of today might not be able to fathom that. But I’m not here to offer a critique of our times and how unlucky I feel to be a part of them; I am here to tell you why I think the film is deserving of its landmark status.

In my opinion, one of the most frightening things on earth would be the inability to control our bodily functions; our bones, our movements, what we say, and everything else beyond. The story of the film deals with this theme, this fear; in the form of a rather unfortunate fellow named Cesare, who lives in a cabinet, awakened only by his master by the name of Caligari, who has enslaved his mind and body. Cesare is what one would call a somnambulist; and Caligari advertises his tragic “gift” as a carnival attraction. Caligari comes into town a stranger; but leaves behind him a legend. You’ll find out what I mean in just a bit.

Most of the story is told in a flashback; that of a man who appears in the beginning – and in the end – of the film, where he looks back on his experiences and encounters with the Doctor and his psychological slave. We see a woman, who he claims to be his fiancé, wandering about the premises where he and a much older man sit, under a great old tree, and talk of the matters at hand. By the end of the film, much has been revealed, with the aid of a fantastic and unpredictable twist ending that most people – not even the movie-goers of today – will not see coming. It’s the rare movie twist where nothing is spelled out for us beforehand. There are red herrings, and perhaps there are even minor clues; but they are mostly irrelevant, and besides, they go fairly unnoticed.

Coming back to the flashback segment of the story (which is most of the movie, to be completely honest); Caligari is not often seen at night. This is mysterious, given that a series of brutal murders (mostly stabbings and the like) has erupted, seemingly out of nowhere. Since I wouldn’t consider it much of a spoiler to say so; I’ll just come out and say it. Caligari is technically the person responsible for the murders; although his ability to take over the mind and body of Cesare allows him to force the poor, inanimate man to spring to life and commit the deadly deeds that come from the highly disturbed and perverse man’s darkest dreams. At one moment, Cesare seems to regain his consciousness when he is about to murder a woman; although he is captivated by her beauty, and refuses to carry out the action. Such scenes, and such realizations in regards to the overall situation, give the film an extra layer of sadness and resonance.

The look of the film is interesting, to say the least. Done almost entirely in a Mise en scène visual style; the film often feels more like a play than like a movie. Perhaps this is because the Mise en scène originates from theatrical productions; although it’s since been carried into the world of cinema, and one could say that the profilic paper-cut-out architecture and distinctive lighting of “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” have popularized the style for future reference. Modern manipulators of the style are few; although those who do choose to take it upon themselves to make use of it are rewarded with footage of great and raw beauty. The simplicity of the production design, combined with the sinister lighting and the blue/yellow color schemes makes for a unique, almost dream-like viewing experience. The film is like an onslaught of nightmarish imagery and butt-naked surrealism; it’s simple, but it’s undeniably effective, and it really sticks with you.

It isn’t often that I resonate with a horror movie as much as I did with this one; but this must indicate that it possesses something special, something seemingly otherworldly in the motion picture business of today, and it does. “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” manages to emotionally engage the audience with images that are striking and characters that are – at least by the end – somewhat sympathetic. It’s a film that deals heavily with mental illness, enslavement, and a general loss of free will. Once the premise and the film’s central ideas are taken into thought; I found it both touching and genuinely scary. Simply put, it’s a treat.

One of the few horror classics of the 1920’s – going into the 30’s and 40’s – that was not based on some famous (or infamous) horror novel, this Gothic expressionist import from Germany proved that when trying to make the audience feel – and truly connect with – the atmosphere that has been built up from the start, silence is absolutely golden. I suppose it wouldn’t be incredibly difficult to imagine somebody remaking the film in hopes of giving it just a little more, I don’t know, depth. To me, that would be taking away the horror and most of the emotions that I felt when I watched this movie, but I don’t know; it could add more layers than there ever were before. It could really go either way. “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” succeeds because it does not characterize its characters (and yet they are so memorable), or over-complicate its murder mystery plot. It’s intriguing and consistently arresting; with plenty of assistance from the little things in-between. To me, those are all qualities of a great horror flick; although to others, it might mean something different all-together. If you want a creepy, atmospheric horror film rather than one drenched in tasteless bloodshed; all I can say is that this might just be the film for you.

Higher Ground

*** out of ****

Corinne, the protagonist of “Higher Ground”, is a woman who was born and raised around religion; within the boundaries of a strictly Christian community. As a child, she did not question her God; she was thankful for what he had supposedly given to her, or at least, she just followed the teachings of both the Lord and the good people of her community. Those were the days in which ignorance was bliss; but as Corinne grew older, she became more intellectually complex. This is only normal; but would it be normal, in the eyes of the Church-going folk, to even consider abandoning her faith?

We follow Corinne from childhood, to her teen years and finally to adulthood (where she is played by Vera Farmiga). From her teen to her adult years, we witness the change in her beliefs; and frankly, there doesn’t seem to be much at first. When she was at the ripe age of 20, she was doubtful when it came to God and his word, but a tragedy – which both she and her entire family evaded – changed everything, and now she considers herself one of those “born again” Christians. From then on, she lives a happy adult life, married and with children. One could say she’s a housewife, but then again she’s far less vulnerable and desperate than that. I admired Corinne throughout the picture because she was independent, free-spirited, and intelligent to the point where she knew when to say enough questioning is enough.

The film, which marks the directorial debut of actress Farmiga, is a story about faith and individualism; among other things. It deals with some touchy subjects indeed, but it treats them with enough respect so that we can invest in both the drama and some of the comedy that follows with them. The story is one of inconsistent tones – one moment, it’s a tense drama, and another it gears more towards satirical territories – but to say it’s uninteresting would be a lie. No doubt, I’ve seen a great many films dealing with philosophical themes surrounding religion, but for what it is, “Higher Ground” is fairly provocative, or at least it’s good enough to engage. And it certainly makes me want to see more out of Farmiga; not only as an actress, but yes, also as the woman behind the camera.

What keeps the film from being great is, alas, its flawed simplicity. People need to understand one thing, if they happen to walk into this movie: it will not offer up insights in the form of big ideas, but rather insights in the form of smaller ones. Insightful is the right word to describe this kind of movie; one that is intelligent and entertaining, but also a little disappointingly typical. My problem was that I could only resonate with the film thematically; and therefore, some of the actual emotion ran almost completely dry. I still watched as it unfolded, but it tends to lack the payoff that would have made it, well, more than the sum of its parts.

Nevertheless, I really admire this film. It’s a feel-good religious tale; populated by genuinely nice people, save for a single mean one, played by John Hawkes (who can play mean quite well). I left the film feeling, you know, kind of nice; given that the film is intriguing and simple in healthy, equal doses. Sure, it doesn’t go out of its way to promote a state of intellectualism, but for most modern movie-goers, it should satisfy as well as entertain. I see it as imperfect, but still plenty solid; not to mention also very, very well-acted. What Farmiga lacks in visual style she makes up for in a general sense of restraint and control; on the material, no less. She seems to understand it, and she might even possess a sort of emotional connection with it. That is, after all, why people make movies like this one in the first place, right? That gets me thinking that, even though I have my complaints about the movie, I still liked it. It will probably hit close to home for a lot of people, and even I could connect to specific aspects of it. I wish it could have explored its themes with more depth, but out of the essential ingredients that it bears, there’s a sort of startling beauty. Religious, non-religious; I think it’s safe to say that the film has a wide audience, and that’s why I’m recommending it.

Open Water

***1/2 out of ****

In 1998, an American couple – claiming the names of Tom and Eileen Lonergan – along with a boat filled with people went scuba diving for a good day; the twist to this tragic story is that these two individuals never returned from the trip. Apparently, as a result of an inaccurate, lazy headcount on the group supervisor’s account; the boat that they came in on left them behind while they were still submerged underwater. Onlookers of the sad, sad tale have come up with several theories surrounding their disappearance; it could have been suicide, it could have been the sharks that infested the waters that they found themselves stranded in for possibly days on end, or it could have even been a big ol’ hoax. All we know, at this point, is that the bodies were never found; although some of the duo’s scuba gear washed up on a beach.

Filmmaker Chris Kentis was inspired by this story, and sought to make a realistic shark feature that was free of all Hollywood clichés and all irrationality. In the end, he made “Open Water”; an incredibly tense, realistic drama-thriller that pits man against animal, but without a clear struggle. A few names were changed – the couple now goes by the names of Susan Watkins (Blanchard Ryan) and Daniel Kintner (Daniel Travis) – and so was the location (the story is now set in the Atlantic Ocean instead of the Pacific). There is no typical “character development”. A movie like this simply does not need any. Once the boat takes off and we realize that these people are essentially left for dead; we can’t help but feel their pain and turmoil.

“Open Water” is all about technique. In a world where most films involving sharks are riddled with CGI renditions of the great sea-dwelling beasts; Kentis uses real, live sharks to evoke a sort of realism, and damn, it works quite well. The problem that these two people face is resonant for a number of reasons: the sharks, the danger, and the camerawork that gives the film its style. “Open Water” was filmed entirely on digital video; which just helps to make it feel even more authentic. The actors filling in the roles of the couple, respectively, also give the film some dramatic weight; there are scenes of emotional intensity that will perhaps one day go down in history as some of the most utterly effective.

The movie is pretty short, running at only mere 79 minutes; and that’s all it needs. While that might not seem like a very demanding length for any film, the ways in which Kentis presents the journey from the beginning to the end of the ordeal make it feel so much longer. In case you didn’t pick up such a notion from just about every plot synopsis regarding the premise; this is a deep, dark, depressing hole of cinematic sadness and emotional suffering. It’s virtually bloodless (most of the time), yet it’s made more disturbing than any of those silly “Saw” movies. Whether you go along with it or not – and some people were expecting a Disney movie, so I can understand if one doesn’t enjoy it -, it’s guaranteed to get right under your skin.

This isn’t a movie for everyone. It isn’t a movie for a lot of people. Heck, I’m not even sure if it would be right of me to recommend it; for some people might not want to see it at all. But…I’m going to judge it based on how well it works, for what it wants to be or do. “Open Water” wants to be a gritty, believable drama that feels not much unlike a real-time documentary; and that’s precisely how I would describe it after sitting through the draining, intense experience. To call it a killer shark movie would be doing one of the best suspense thrillers of the past decade an injustice; one could indeed call it just a “shark movie”, and at that, quite possibly one of the greats. Damn, it’s been a long time since we got one of those.

My hope is that one of these days; Kentis will come out from under his shell and make yet another movie. I’m also hoping that if he does this, it will be just as good as his first outing. He has successfully taken me on the sort of cinematic journey that is seldom taken; because it’s almost as if there are no longer original, daring, or particularly skilled filmmakers. Even on a minimalist style, Kentis is able to achieve more than most Hollywood hacks would have if they had taken a stab at the premise. His execution is flawless; and his spirit, unending. This is the work of a master filmmaker; able to summon fear and tension, seemingly out of thin air. No matter how gruesome or perturbing it gets; one cannot look away. Most of the time, this is a good thing. So get ready to resent the ocean and the fishies alike once again; for “Open Water” might even be able to give “Jaws” a run for its money.

Killer Elite (2011)

* out of ****

Direction is not the problem in first-timer Gary McKendry’s “Killer Elite” (which has nothing to do with the Sam Peckinpah film of the same name). No, the trouble is ultimately, to the very core, with the writing. An action film intent on relying on narrative and characters instead of non-stop action set pieces; alas, the film has plenty of style in the action, but close to none in the scripting. The man who penned this train-wreck goes by the name of Matt Sherring. I have not done any research – and therefore do not know too much – in regards to the man, but from what I can gather just from watching his bastardization action movie screenplay unfold; he might not deserve the paycheck that his “work” was probably met with. In working with his director (McKendry), he has grossly miscalculated the excessively derivative ordeal that is “Killer Elite”. I didn’t know that an action movie could seem so hopelessly lost.

It’s a personal belief of mine that any screenplay, no matter how bad or well it reads in actuality, can produce a film that is at least decent and watchable. Such is indeed the case with “Killer Elite”. It concerns a duet of mercenaries, Danny Bryce and his older mentor Hunter, as one attempts to rescue the other – with the help of some smaller, but still equally as skilled fellow mercenaries – from the clutches of evil terrorists. Hunter is the one who has been captured by the organization. Their cause: he took a job for six million big ones but failed to follow through on it. They reach a deal with Danny; that if he can successfully kill a trio of (former) SAS agents. Clearly, the one organizing the kidnapping and the deal has a beef with these men; particularly for being the cause of the respective deaths of each of his three eldest sons.

Yes, there are little details to the deal that I have not mentioned; but what’s the point? There’s only really one other thing that you need to know about this movie when speaking of its plot: and this is the inclusion of one more key character, an ex-SAS agent named Spike Logan, who is assigned to track Danny and his boys, in an attempt to prevent the murders of his fellow agents, who are still on the job, whilst he is not. There: now you’ve got your movie. Essentially. Like I said, there are things that I have not mentioned, but you’ll see that this is all in good reason.

Action movies often rely on the sole efforts of their stars. In this case, the main attractions are Jason Statham, Robert De Niro, and Clive Owen. You probably already know the roles that they embody; so I wouldn’t be telling you anything new if I even made an attempt. Anyways, not to drift too far away from my point of bringing them up; I definitely would have bought into the story more than I actually did if the stars didn’t lack so much on-screen chemistry. In all honesty, I was expecting some good moments in which these three famous actors graced the screen, sharing it, allowing us to get immersed in their struggle. It’s made clear that the paths of these men shall be required to cross sooner or later; although I couldn’t care less about whether it does or not. I could just barely make it to the end.

I have a lot of rage bottled up at the moment, and yes, it’s all because of this damn movie. I’m a fan of action flicks that are fun, wild, violent, and bat-shit insane; but this – whatever it is – is neither of the four. You know what, I don’t even know if one could call it anything; there’s action, but it’s hardly ever exciting (although the sequence that practically opens the film is pretty solid). Instead of providing the audience with some kick-ass, explosive entertainment; it hops borders and wastes our time with a plot that tries its hardest to border on the dramatic, the absurd, and the painfully dull. At that, all I’m left with is the simple question of why Clive Owen was required to have a mustache for his role. He appears more-so silly rather than likably off-kilter, although perhaps that’s just me; I suppose the same could be said for my overall take on this lame, unbelievable, spectacularly un-engaging travesty. The general consensus seems to be more forgiving; all I know is that I’m not.

The Thing (2011)

*1/2 out of ****

“The Thing” opens with the discovery of a flying saucer that has – since it has gone unnoticed and undiscovered until now – been buried under deep depths of Antarctic ice. It is found when some Norwegian researches are making way across the icy landscape by snowcat; only to fall right into the darkness of what lies beneath. The film has been marketed as a prequel to John Carpenter’s 1982 film of the same name, which in itself was based on an earlier movie titled “The Thing from Another World”, which was based on John W. Campbell’s “Who Goes There?”

I’ve seen all previous adaptations of the story, and was expecting something new and different from this prequel, which feels more like a remake and re-telling of the other film adaptations of Campbell’s novel rather than its own unique movie. It’s the kind of movie where there’s a slippery, slimy monster; and a good number of manly men and women who take it upon themselves to end its slimy reign once and for all. Once the movie is done, the Carpenter film is about to start and one wonders whether there will be yet another installment in this long-running horror franchise, you know, to complete the story, as if it needs such treatment.

Anyways, in this version of “The Thing”, paleontologist Kate Lloyd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) is recruited by extraterrestrial researcher Dr. Sander Halvorson and his assistant, Adam Finch (Eric Christian Olson) to assist them in their further investigation of the flying saucer from the opening frames, as well as an alien life form that they’ve also dug up in the process of discovery. Encased in a frozen block of ice, the creature is brought back to home base, where the scientists observe it for a while. And suddenly…escape!

The creature – we’ll just call it The Thing for now – is fast, furious, and intelligent. It can hide discreetly enough in the shadows, until somebody is stupid enough to seek it out (and there are plenty of duds in this Antarctic base). It also boasts an impressive number of mouths and body parts; originally looking something like a large crab, and eventually absorbing the body parts of its human victims to gain arms, legs, and even heads. While it’s a dangerous and silent killer; it would appear that the being from outer space can be killed with fire. And where will the heroes of the story get this fire? From the flamethrowers that they’ve got stashed away nearby at all times, of course.

So yeah, you’re basically watching the John Carpenter movie all over again, just with less, you know, intrigue or entertainment value. Whilst Carpenter was a talented filmmaker – perfectly capable of handling the premise with skill, wit, and an eye for nerve-wrecking suspense – the director of this re-hash, Matthijis Van Heijningen, succumbs to the Hollywood definition of tension and gives just a bit too much away early on. His attempts at build-up are truly, marvelously pathetic.

So with all the real, human horror of the original lost; the prequel still has plenty of time to melt until it’s liquid, and in those moments, it does absolutely nothing. It makes an attempt to make up for the lack of scares and individual characterization with gore and some nice creature FX. Actually, while I’m on that note; I’d just like to say that the creature was the only character in the entire movie that I liked. Even when you’ve got characters – boring characters – played by the likes of talents such as Joel Edgerton and Ulrich Thomsen, I was rooting for the slimy monster to consume their bodies and their brains alike. Perhaps then, they would be just a little more interesting.

At that, the film is reduced to a fancy special effects showcase. There’s literally nothing else to it than that. It’s boring and easily forgettable; the kind of movie where there was work put into it visually, but otherwise, laziness is absolutely apparent. Performances are bland, direction is uninspired. In my honest opinion, the movie sounded really interesting when it was in the pre-production stages. Winstead’s character reminded me somewhat of an attempt to re-create the whole Ripley (from “Alien”) character feel; and there are indeed a few nasty, good ideas that went into the conception and re-designing of the creature that is at the center of the story. But all this talk of “The Thing” is making me want to go back and watch “The Thing” – the far superior Carpenter version – and perhaps even the film that inspired it, which I’ve already mentioned. Then I’ll look back on this movie and ask, “Why?”

Grave Encounters

*** out of ****

“Grave Encounters” is like the love child of “The Blair Witch Project” and “REC”. No, there aren’t any zombies – or “infected, if you will – as in the latter, but like both aforementioned films, this one utilizes the Found Footage stylistic; with handheld camerawork galore. If you’re not a fan of this movement in the horror genre, walk away. Walk away and keep on walking. I say this because “Grave Encounters” does not intend to try and do anything new in regards to the conventions created within its genre; which isn’t really much of a complaint by me, given that it has a purpose to serve, and the film serves it well. This isn’t great found footage horror, but by my standards, it’s pretty good. It blends humor and satisfying scares to create a hell of a ride. It could have – and perhaps should have – been slightly better and more discreet about how it scares the audience, but hey, it is what it is.

Five crew members on a reality television show devoted to the investigation of the paranormal – the fictional Grave Encounters – pick an old, run down, and abandoned mental institution to film the 6^th episode for their series. Members of the crew include: host Lance, cameraman T.C., techy Matt, psychic Houston, and expert on the supernatural, Sasha. After conducting some interviews with people who know the wide and expansive premises very well; they make an agreement with the caretaker for him to lock them in the building for the night, until six o’clock exactly, when he will release them. During that time, it’s assumed that they will capture some damn good footage for the show.

The crew unpacks their supplies, sets up the night-vision cameras, sets up the ones that they shall bring with them everywhere, and assume their individual positions. Initially, they split up and visit some of the hotspots that the caretaker had pointed out to them when he gave the group a tour earlier on that day. The assumption is that there really are no ghosts in this facility, and the crew will have to make their own evidence, just as they have for all five other episodes. We go into the movie knowing that all footage is fake (the trailer itself shows an obvious CGI shot); and that the characters within the film know that their show is faux as well. But the found footage aspect is supposed to imitate and create some sort of impending realism; and here, that’s just what it does.

Nothing happens for a while. These characters walk through the dark halls of the ward, searching for activity, sounds; anything. Eventually, doors start slamming, windows start opening, and voices are heard on the EP recordings when they are successfully played back on the machine. Even then, the crew members don’t know whether to take their findings seriously, and they even assume that it might be someone who is aware of what they intend to do that night in this place; trying to mess with them, pull some pranks, or whatnot. But, I would imagine that all three of those things and beyond would be eliminated when chairs are lifted in mid-air and ghostly girls stand against the wall – only to turn around and rear their ugly, pale, demonic special effects faces.

I’ll admit that the film does show a bit too much; and therefore it’s hardly ever as frightening as it may want to be. But if you can put that aside, and maybe some other noticeable flaws in the characters and the illogical things that they do and say, you might just find that “Grave Encounters” is a pretty enjoyable horror flick. Indeed, I was pretty scared when I was watching it; the found footage style rendered the footage raw, tense, and creepy. The suspense has range – it can build slowly and smartly, while other times, the movie would rather just cut to the chase – and the scares do too (I guess), even though most of them are designed for the faint of heart and the genuinely jumpy. But these are fun, well-conceived scares; and this is a fun, well-conceived movie. It’s probably one of the high points in 2011’s year of horror.

Unless you’re too cynical to be entertained by an interesting, engaging spin on the found footage gimmick, I’d highly suggest this film to anyone who simply wants to be creeped out big time for about an hour and a half. If it is something more that you desire, then you might want to think twice about spending a night with the Grave Encounters team; although the horror-faithful shouldn’t have those complaints when they walk in. I’ve grown to accept the found footage sub-genre because on many levels, it either agrees with me or it doesn’t; if it does, then there’s a strong indication that some talented people are behind it. “Grave Encounters” was directed by the Vicious Brothers; who are, as far as I know, currently unidentified as far as their identity goes. One wonders whether they’ll ever show up, take credit for the impressive work that they’ve done here, and make another movie. I also wonder how much fun the editor for Grave Encounters, the show, had when it came to censoring all the profanity either uttered or screamed. Because there are just certain things that the cable broadcasting fat cats don’t tolerate.

Hatchet for the Honeymoon

*** out of ****

Mario Bava, one of the great pioneers for the horror genre as well as the famed “Giallo” sub-genre that it claims, has never been one to abandon his signature style that consists of colorful shots, abstract camera angles, and supernatural storytelling. From his rise (“The Woman Who Knew Too Much”) to his fall (“Shock”), his style never changed. I admire Bava and his desire to terrorize the audience with a bombardment of never-ending nightmarish imagery; and I’m almost always entertained by his efforts in doing so. One might argue that his “Hatchet for the Honeymoon” is a lessor film from the director; with a sense of directorial and visionary attachment. In blending heavy elements of both the supernatural and Giallo horror sub-genres, he’s made a movie that will divide mainstream audiences and more than likely, his fan-base as well. Being someone who has before been captured and willfully swept away by the perverse beauty of the Mario Bava films; I found this one easy to take and consistently engaging, even if I knew it was far from the director’s best stab at a genre picture.

Dream logic and ghastly delusions are rather common of a Giallo film; and I won’t deny that such things are certainly prevalent here. Aside from the intoxicating surrealism, there is a story: that of John Harrington (Stephen Forsyth), the wealthy owner of a bridal fashion house, who lives a life of riches and emotional instability. He’s constantly torn between women; he revels in the beautiful models and customers that come in by the day to his estate, but his love life is restrained to a single woman, his uptight wife, whom he loathes. But beneath the money, the house, and the formality of his character, John harbors a dark secret. A secret darker than his hatred for his wife, his perverse obsession with the side-women, and his complicated past.

It’s from the opening frames on that we know his secret: John is a serial killer, intent on killing his customers and their lovers (if possible) exclusively. This activity traces back to a childhood tragedy, which influenced his life negatively and traumatized the young John for life. Unlike a lot of psychopaths well-known to the history of Giallo cinema, he doesn’t create an alternate ego that he believes is really carrying out these bloody duties instead of him. He’s sane; but also insane.

The first half of the film is focused on the development of his character and his sins; whilst in the second half, John goes one kill too far when he murders his wife in cold blood. But that’s from the end of the story; she returns from the dead as a spirit that only those around John can see, but he cannot. She tortures him psychologically, bent on destroying his being and spending all eternity with her lover in Hell. One could view the story as a sort of cautionary tale for what happens when an individual commits unspeakable sin; it all comes back to that person eventually and as humans that inhabit a reality alternative from the dreams and visions of Bava, we have it easy. For John, it’s safe to say that there’s no easy way out of the mess that he’s gotten himself into.

The world is practically bankrupt of American horror movies with a sense of imagination these days; although I suppose that’s how it’s always been. For compelling, frightening tales of the macabre; I often turn to foreign filmmakers and storytellers for guidance, support, and satisfaction. What “Hatchet for the Honeymoon” lacks in good, straight-forward storytelling it makes up for in grotesque beauty; with murder sequences that are gory and energetic, an original score that is unpredictably majestic one second and pulse-pounding another, some strong performances, and virtually flawless direction. This isn’t my favorite Mario Bava film, nor is it one of his best, but it’s certainly worth checking out so long as you’re a devoted horror/Bava aficionado. 

One of my favorite elements of the film was the architecture that completes the house of the John character. It is diverse. There’s an obvious Gothic influence in certain rooms; while others are slightly more modern. Everything from the windows, to the wall, to the beds is so well-designed; that one cannot help but be entranced by the sensory overload of it all. One of my favorite scenes involves a tango that takes place in a room filled with mannequins and bridal dresses. If there was ever a scene so strangely alluring in the context of the film, be my guest and call it out. As far as I’m concerned, there were few other elements to “Hatchet for the Honeymoon” that took such a human approach to dream-logic horror narrative.

Do You Like Hitchcock?

**1/2 out of ****

As a devote fan of director Dario Argento’s work in the horror genre, ranging exclusively from the 70’s to the 80’s into the early 90’s, I have this odd, unexplainable belief that if there is no nostalgia to a modern Argento effort; there is also no effort, or style, and no entertainment value. This belief hasn’t been proven invalid since I first proposed it (Argento’s “Phantom of the Opera” was truly awful, and most of what followed wasn’t much better either); but there’s always the possibility of an exception. In this case, that exception is “Do You Like Hitchcock”; a 2005 made-for-television feature from the master of horror himself. Watching it, I recognized a few things: there was no style, but there was effort, entertainment value, and nostalgia in healthy doses. These are things that quite a few of the more recent Dario Argento movies have lacked; and as far as those go, this one isn’t half bad.

Well alright, maybe it is, kind of. This un-stylish but never uninteresting thriller follows young film student Julio as he attempts to take part in the solving of what appears to be a series of brutal murders that have been committed in the apartments surrounding his own. The murders share a similar thing: they seem to be inspired, in part, by the films of Alfred Hitchcock. There’s irony in the situation; given that Julio and his girlfriend constantly rent out the director’s films from their local video store, with Julio closely observing every last scene. So he might be of great service when it comes to finding out who the killer really is.

That’s the gist of it, anyways. The first murder is committed in the apartment across the street, where a beautiful woman and her elderly mother live – that is until the elderly mother is the victim of the sadistic killer committing the crimes. Julio is paranoid that he might be the next victim; and we believe in his claims, due to the fact that it’s made a known fact that somebody is following the protagonist, just as he is closely following others. It eventually untangles and then tangles itself right back up again; with about as many unneeded complications as intriguing mysteries to be solved. The story is uneven, but the characters are surprisingly well-played by their respective actors, and the movie certainly kept me engaged, no matter how ridiculous or slightly underwhelming it became by the finale.

With a movie like this, I’m simply trying my hardest not to complain. “Do You Like Hitchcock” has its pleasures – a minimalist style that Argento manages to work around in order to deliver some genuine thrills and chills, and a hilarious character that takes the form of a homeless old lady who collects trash from the bins outside random apartments and buildings nearby Julio’s – even if they can’t make up for its rusty plotting. Nevertheless, here’s what I’ve theorized: people have indulged in cinematically messy stories and overall films for much less, and Argento is simply trying to do something new. What I assume is that a great portion of his fan base will be disappointed by the lack of gore, beauty, and artistry in the final product; but there’s also a chance that a few compassionate souls will forgive and forget, and allow themselves to enjoy the ride while it lasts.

Being a cinephile, the references to the works of Hitchcock scattered throughout were enjoyable; and all scenes taking place at the video store that Julio and his girl rent from are energetic and brimming with Argento’s non-signature, but non-subtle cinematic fanboyism. Sure, given these plot elements, I acknowledge that Argento probably could have done something amazing; but he crafts a simple yet somehow satisfying murder mystery in the tradition of his early Giallo pictures, minus the exquisite direction that had put him on the map in the first place. Look at Argento’s older films, and you’ll see that this is far from his best; but look at his newer ones, and you’ll notice that it’s far from the worst this filmmaker can do. He was once great; and “Do You Like Hitchcock” almost signifies a sort of return-to-form, stylistically, as long as you take out the flowing of the liquid red.

Way better than I could have ever anticipated, and worth seeing if you’re an avid fan; I may not particularly like “Do You Like Hitchcock”, but I certainly can at least appreciate it for what it is. Argento has tried to achieve something new and fresh for years; and I’ll have to say that this is probably it. The film’s an uneven mess for sure, but I enjoyed the feeling that I had while watching it. Certain plot elements and visual trickeries reminded me of why I admire Argento as much as I do in the first place; and while I loathe the absence of Argento’s signature grotesque artistry by way of the bizarre blood and gore, I like what took its place enough to recommend the film to the Argento-faithful. For those who see it and don’t like it; I feel as if I had warned you, and if you think differently…well then, too bad.

Identity

** out of ****

A dark and stormy night. Many cars stranded in muck. A fatal collision between human flesh and hard metal. All three of these things contribute to the gathering of ten strangers in a single location – a Motel somewhere in Nevada -, an element which is the drive for the rest of the plot to come in James Mangold’s “Identity”. The story was inspired by an Agatha Christie mystery story – “And Then There Were None” – and indeed there is a mystery at the core. These people really don’t know one another, even if potential connections are seemingly implied at every twist and turn that the decidedly simple tale takes.

I don’t think it’s essential to name any of these people. I will just list their occupations. There is a husband (John C. McGinley), the ill-fated wife (Leila Kenzle), a mute child (Bret Loehr), a limo driver (John Cusack), a prostitute (Amanda Peet), a lady newlywed (Clea DuVall), the male newlywed (William Lee Scott), a rich and snobby Hollywood actress (Rebecca De Mornay), a local police officer (Ray Liotta), an escape convict that he’s holding prisoner (Jake Busey), and the Motel owner (John Hawkes). A side-plot that, by the end, becomes something much more than that, involves a hearing for convicted murderer Malcolm Rivers (Pruitt Taylor Vince), his Samuel Loomis-like psychiatrist (Alfred Molina), and a record number of attorneys and lawyers.

So there are two stories going on at once; but by the end, let’s just say it all comes together. Who am I to say whether it does so convincingly or not? How you react to the twist ending, the resolution (if there really is one at all; I’m skeptical), and the overall payoff depends on whether you were able to buy into the premise and the characters that occupy the plot. In all honesty, I didn’t buy it. I found the situation and the end twist way too ridiculous; and when it all finally started to make a little sense, and all was revealed, the film should have ended, but unfortunately it goes on for a good unneeded couple dozen minutes more.

There’s some good acting put into the project, in spite of some truly absurd dialogue, and Mangold knows how to skillfully direct a thriller that serves its purpose for more than twenty minutes; but I can’t shake the feeling that “Identity”, a mystery-thriller with the side-sensibilities of a slasher picture, should have been so much better given the talent involves in its making. I liked the cinematography and a few of the performances are, as I mentioned, really good; but the tension doesn’t last long enough, and neither does the suspense. Personal opinions aside (you will either like this movie or you will not); mysteries need both of those ingredients to be successful. Or at least, last time I checked they did; but perhaps times have changed.

Nevertheless, “Identity” is a movie that commits an unspeakable, unforgivable sin; it is never boring, yet never completely believable. Beneath this imbalanced thriller, there’s a fairly good one; but too many distractions get in the way, to the point where I just couldn’t see anything good being derived out of the experience. Obviously, I’ll give credit where credit is due – and I already have – but what the film amounts to is a disappointingly mediocre experience with a slew of moments both good and maddeningly bad. Good or not, I’d still encourage anyone interested in either the thriller or horror genres to check this one out, as it embodies elements from both, although one might be discouraged when they discover that the film is doing nothing more (or less) than finding diversions and complications in order to engage, and if you ask me, that just isn’t right.

Take Shelter

**** out of ****

Curtis LaForche (Michael Shannon) is an Ohio resident who lives a healthy and content life. He is a family man, a husband to his wife Samantha (Jessica Chastain), and a father to their deaf child Hannah. He also upholds a steady job working at a lumber company; where most of his closest friendships reside. All the same, the first time we ever see Curtis is within a dream; and he dreams of strange, scary things. In fact, I’d call these dreams more like visions than anything else; they are of a storm, a deadly storm, which will presumably destroy everything in its path. The dreams/visions are recurring; and in the first dream, what falls from the stormy skies could be classified as acid rain, although I’m not perfectly sure what that looks like.

Curtis likes to keep these dreams to himself. He fears it will upset those around him. But every night, he must face these horrific visions of demise, stormy skies, and abruptly violent attacks by way of the family dog; and it’s beginning to have a negative effect on his life. He acts upon it and tries to get himself medicated. He does not succeed; instead, the doctor that he sees about this matter refers him to a psychiatrist, although Curtis instead settles for a regular old therapist because he fears his family does not have enough money to pay for these side-things; and he must support all three members of his household financially.

The dreams get progressively worse; and Curtis begins to worry. And I mean like really, REALLY worry. It’s not long before he’s contemplating building an extension to the underground shed that lies in the backyard; hoping to turn it into some sort of storm shelter or something. He’s dead serious about this too. He steals tools from his work and asks a fellow co-worker (Shea Whigham) to assist him in building the shelter. In no time at all, Samantha starts to take notice; although I don’t assume it’s much of a difficulty to do so when there’s a deep, dark hole being dug in the comfort of your backyard.

The story hints as schizophrenia. Curtis may indeed have it; but he’s currently gone undiagnosed for quite some time if he does. I  guess it wouldn’t be too hard to believe such a thing if he did have schizophrenia; given that his mother was diagnosed with that very mental illness in her mid-30’s, and Curtis is pushing 35. Great. One more thing to add to his long, complex list of things to resent and be frightened by. Curtis, a naturally good-hearted man, is scared for his family; and fears that he might have to move out of the house if his visions get any more severe. Often times, he will dream of a family member or a loved one harming him; rendering him unable to accept them in reality when the dream ends. Onlookers certainly don’t understand such odd behavior any more than the one exemplifying it does.

With “Take Shelter”, writer-director Jeff Nichols (Shotgun Stories) and star Shannon have created a brutal, realistic vision of terror and obsession. I suppose this might be the kind of movie that Roland Emmerich had intended to make when he made those silly but fun “2012” and “The Day After Tomorrow” flicks; although then again, those were entertaining, and Nichols’ film is a masterful slice of uncompromising realism. “Take Shelter” is madly engaging and wickedly intoxicating, but not in the traditional sense (Emmerich’s better films are popcorn pictures, so to speak). But then again, why compare two different kinds of films? Emmerich makes disaster movies; and it’s quite clear that Nichols has also made one, but in a more post-modern sense. I haven’t seen a film so relevant to our times and phobias as this in a long, long time. People make similar efforts and attempts from time to time; but rarely do they succeed in the ways that this film does.

The driving force behind the movie’s success is Michael Shannon. He’s been an excellent actor throughout his career – but he hasn’t had a performance quite like this one. The role of Curtis is emotionally demanding and, as I imagine, the sort of performance that might drain one of their very soul. If this doesn’t put Shannon even more “on the map” than he already is, I don’t know what will. With Shannon’s impeccable, flawless performance efforts comes a great feeling of emotional resonance; and there are scenes where he is forced – almost willingly and most definitely successfully – to break through the barriers of his role.

“Take Shelter” is a great film; whether those ignorant bastards at the Academy can realize that or not. If I ran the Oscars, I’d give just about every nomination possible to this amazing, awe-inspiring, yet depressing vision of apocalyptic anxiety. Shannon deserves a nomination; as does Nichols, for directing the film on such a simple, minimalist, yet effective style. There’s a sense of relentless dread that builds up throughout the film; and Shannon’s demeanor is in itself the messenger of such raw and negative emotions. Indeed, some say the film is flawed – if only for its ending, of which there is about two, in theory – although I believe the film is certainly worth looking into for an even deeper feeling of sonority. The ending has meaning, relevance; and it serves a purpose, even if an even better one could have been accomplished, had the second ending been lopped off completely. But I don’t care much about that. This is a perfect film in every sense of the word; and one of the best of 2011. My hope is this: that even though it’s fairly obscure amongst the main-streamers now, it shall someday take the world by storm. 

An American Haunting

*1/2 out of ****

“An American Haunting” doesn’t get a single thing right in regards to being a good, scary, or engaging horror picture. But there is one thing that earns it a few points, makes it slightly more watchable, and earns the movie an extra half a star from what I would have initially rated it had it not bared this quality: excellent, often times lush visuals. The special effects are so-so and therefore quite far from actually being good looking, but the cinematography is often seductive and darkly whimsical. I just wish that there were things to praise aside from the look of the movie.

In the 19^th Century, a man named John Bell (Donald Sutherland) is taken to Church court, where a woman named Kate Batts has accused him of stealing land. The court decides to let him go over the fact that his good name might have been soiled if he did indeed steal the woman’s land, which apparently is enough for both the people of the court and Mr. Bell himself, but nevertheless; the woman making the accusations is widely believed to be a witch, and it comes to no surprise that she puts a curse on John Bell and his family through words.

John Bell returns to his home, his wife (Sissy Spacek), and his teenage daughter, Betsy Bell (Rachel Hurd-Wood). He isn’t one to believe in superstition, so he doesn’t take the words of Kate Batts into consideration. However, perhaps he should. Strange things start happening around the house and all around town. Mr. Bell is seeing wolves as black as night on his hunting trips that no one else accompanying him sees to see, his daughter is experiencing violent night terrors (or nightmares, rather), and last but not least; strange and ghostly voices fill the air.

Is the daughter singularly possessed? Or is it a ghost that haunts the house? There are a number of possible outcomes, but one would think this would make the story more intriguing. Let me tell you: it is intriguing, just not particularly interesting due to a lack of communication in the writing and direction behind it. The film boastfully claims to be based on a “terrifying” true story; I wonder how true the movie is to the actual events, if they did indeed happen.

Director Courtney Solomon (Dungeons and Dragons) has access to the best special effects and technical equipment that money can buy; and there were moments in the film when she is able to give us this slight, brief, yet unsatisfactory indication that she might have the skills to make use of what she’s been supplied with. However, visuals alone cannot help to save a shallow story, and a horror film lacking proper scares. “An American Haunting” may not be cheap looking, but it’s certainly got a poor script. The jump scares are lame, the effects on the ghostly apparitions are majorly outdated, and the acting is either “meh” or just-plain terrible, with Sutherland being the only actor who actually does some decent work.

One thing I can’t get off my mind was the fact that in a convoluted, unnecessary side-plot involving the legend of the central story as it lives on in present day, 21rst Century America, there’s a photograph of two of the film’s key characters. Everyone knows that back in the 19^th Century, they had yet to invent cameras. So the taking of the photo was impossible. I know it’s a small detail, but it bothered me throughout the movie; and made me wonder whether the filmmakers had taken into consideration that in order to engage and refrain from insulting your audience, accuracy is key and absolutely, positively essential.

Aguirre: The Wrath of God

**** out of ****

A thousand Spanish conquistadors make their way across and through the Andes Mountains. A cage and the chicken within it don’t make it. Everyone else does. Instantaneously, they descend into the Amazonian jungle below. It becomes very clear that the Amazon River plays a big part – rather appropriately – in the vast jungle itself, and these men (plus two women) are searching for El Dorado. And they will probably find it much faster if they split up into units; one traveling across river by raft, another by land. Gonzalo Pizarro, commander of the expedition in its original form, assigns one of his most fierce and trusty conquistadors – Lope De Aguirre (Klaus Kinski) – to head the river-raft expedition. Once the two units have gone their separate ways; there’s no turning back.

Aguirre is a frightening, deceiving, secretive, scarred man. He has a face that looks as if he hasn’t smiled once in his life; although we do see him with a wide, silly grin for a brief moment in the film, when he presents to his young daughter (who has gone along for the ride) a sleepy sloth that is so small that it can fit into the palm of his hand. But this is nothing more than momentary bliss; he is otherwise a sadistic control freak, feared by his fellow men and especially his fellow women. He is like a time bomb without a time; pretty much ready to explode at any given moment. But that moment cannot be predicted; adding even more danger to his character.

All the same, he is willing to command his unit; keeping his – and their – eyes on the prize. Traveling by their wooden raft, which floats elegantly across furious rapids that closely symbolize and mimic the perverse anger of the titular character; they must keep going until they reach the desired destination. However, this is easier said than done; cannibalistic Indian tribes linger not far from the shore of the treacherous brook, spears and poisonous arrows in hand. One might suppose that the animals of the Amazon would prove a problem too; but in this case, they are seen in a more sympathetic light. From the pigs to the little sloth to the dozens of monkeys in the film’s concluding frames; the animals represent a sort of deep-seeded connection with nature.

But what else would one expect from Werner Herzog, writer and director of “Aguirre: The Wrath of God”? Naturalistic, observant, existential, and intellectual; he is a filmmaker of many talents. He is famous not only for his work in the departments of feature filmmaking; but also for his in-depth, passionately-made documentaries. His gifts and skills as a documentarian have served him well in the past; and even if “Aguirre” was made before he had made a name for himself in the field of documentary filmmaking, it kind of feels like a film from that genre anyways. But the fact that it is a straight-up feature film production lends it an upper hand; and advantage; a unique flavor that a documentary on similar subjects might have lacked all-together. It’s the sort of cinematic experience so rich and delicate that you can practically taste, touch, and smell anything that can be seen or heard.

What I love about “Aguirre” is the fact that, in terms of story and characters, it is purely minimalist; but when speaking of the film as a visual experience, it is something new and hallucinatory. Herzog achieves a sort of dark, enamoring surrealism with the film; relying more on beautiful, inspiring, frightening, moving images rather than sympathetic or memorable characters. That’s not to say that the film is without its narrative substance – it’s a very well-told story of madness, obsession, and authority – but people come back for what they can see, hear, and above all, feel. One can certainly absorb the film in one sitting, yes, but it’s completely beneficial to see the film a few more times afterwards, for only then will the viewer get a tight grasp on Herzog’s artistic vision in its most complete form. There are symbols – some obvious, some not; and some that I can’t identify whatsoever, therefore rendering them irrelevant to me at the time, but certainly not irrelevant for the future – that carry the film and give each image some background and panache.  

This is another superb, intoxicating performance from Klaus Kinski – Herzog regular – and we all know that he’s had a good many of those. So I’m not exaggerating when I say that I think his portrayal of Aguirre is unpredictable and masterful enough for me to call it perhaps his best performance in his entire, expansive, life-long career. I don’t know what that says to you, but to me; it says a lot. Kinski is intense and capricious; the only thing we know is that he is angry and relentless towards the crew that he has been given, but we often question: why? Herzog isn’t ready to give us all the correct answers – as this is a work of fiction and the imagination rather than a close, accurate history lesson – but he provides the audience with enough questions to keep each member of it busy for a few solid months, days, possibly even years.

I do not have any favorite scenes from “Aguirre”. In a sense, every scene is my favorite. It is a film filled with such stunning whimsy and imagery that one cannot simply single out specific scenes and images, labeling them as more important than any others in the film. The case is that they aren’t; every image is of equal importance and relevance. They are all beautiful; and they’ve all captured me in some way. Through the macabre, strange, inexplicable poetry of the movie camera; Herzog is able to take us on this grand trip. Through the jungle, through the river rapids, through the all-too-humane corruption of each hero and each villain; we watch in horror, but in the end, we are but sloths to Herzog’s gentle palm, and he neither exploits nor attempts to explain us.

The Ides of March

**1/2 out of ****

The problem at the core of “The Ides of March” is that George Clooney – serving as writer, director, and star – seems to believe that he’s exposing truth and preaching to a whole new generation of politically active people. An avid Democrat himself; I’m surprisingly impressed by Clooney’s ability to hold back on the Republican-bashing in his latest feature; whilst taking dead aim at the world of politics as a whole instead. “The Ides of March” is an anti-political movie about politics; rare, but unfortunately just a tad bit pretentious and unpolished to slide as unforgettable or insightful. If you’re as passionate about the politics of America as Clooney clearly is; I encourage you to check this one out, and even if you’re not particularly into politics, I’d still recommend it, but that’s not to say that it completely satisfied me. It left me feeling cold and just a little bit disappointed. 

I’m not saying that it’s bad. There’s some good writing going on here just as there is some really good acting work present; but too often does the script try to be fresh, relevant, and highly intelligent. It’s neither of the three; although in small doses, it reveals a deeper, darker, and shockingly clever side contrary to the uneven nature of the film as a whole. I’ll admit this much: it’s an entertaining political drama-thriller, although far from a great one; and just half a star off from being good. So I’ll have you know that it comes pretty darn close.

But alas, not close enough. There are many characters in this complicated story; the main one being Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), who is the assistant “deputy” campaign manager to Pennsylvania’s Governor, Mike Morris (George Clooney). His mentor and potential competitor is superior campaign manager Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman). Together, they compete against Senator of Arkansas, Ted Pullman; whose own campaign manager is a man by the name of Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti).

There are also a few women in the story. Take Ida (Marisa Tomei) for example; a New York Times reporter who is friends with Stephen and has been for a long time, often using him to get stories, just as he uses her to obtain specific information when times are hard for him in the work of political campaigning. There’s also an attractive young secretary named Molly Stearns (Evan Rachel Wood) with whom Stephen strikes up a romantic relationship; which soon becomes a large – very large; increasingly large – problem for the character as well as his campaign. 

But it would seem that the real problem in the context of the story is a scandal; that which involves a top-secret meeting held between Duffy and Stephen, in a restaurant. It was not supposed to happen; to meet with this man would mean betrayal. But regardless, Stephen showed up to the dinner date on time and as requested by Duffy; who proposed to his opposite that perhaps he should consider switching sides. He puts up a good argument, and it would seem that Stephen is having last minute thoughts, but ultimately, he declines.

But, as can be expected, he can’t keep his big mouth shut, and so he tells Paul all about it. And guess what Paul does? He leaks the story. Of the rest of the story, the most I can say is that it all goes downhill from there; both literally and figuratively, whilst the film gets increasingly more tedious and pulse-pounding as it reaches its appropriately intense climax. It gets kind of hard to follow, and sometimes to the point where it just can’t be called entertaining anymore, but one thing I know is this: you will not be bored regardless of personal thought.

The performances are what kept me watching Clooney’s film. Gosling pulls off another absorbing role, P.S. Hoffman is cynical and almost terrorizing, Giamatti is spectacular as always, and Clooney isn’t so bad himself, if not slightly under-used. But that’s understandable; given his position in the project. “The Ides of March” has a lot of very effective and genuine moments of drama and suspense; and little bits of dialogue are brilliant and inspired as well. However, that couldn’t make up for how I felt when watching the movie; just-plain alienated. I had learned nothing new; given that the hypothesis of the film is that politics are complicated and perhaps even dangerous. We’ve learned these things before; in school, from our parents, and from other films as well. “The Ides of March” just doesn’t go about executing all its brilliant, provocative ideas in an equally as fascinating fashion. Clooney shows visual style as a director, the stars show the expected amount of skill in tackling their respective roles; but considering the talent involved (and that’s a LOT of talent), it should have been better.