SLIFF 2014: A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night

Title: A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night

Country: Iran

Rating: 8.5

                Have you ever been to the Iranian netherworld of Bad City? No? Well it’s awesome! Black and white, ultra-hip, throbbing with 80’s music and vintage cars. Of course, it is ravaged by plague, haunted by vampires and burdened by drugs, crime and male violence. But nowhere is perfect.

                I could talk to you about plot. There’s a young guy who appropriates a cat. And this cat gives a great performance! And the dude’s trying to pay off his dad’s debts, the legacy of an opium addiction. He meets a rich girl and something starts to spark, but he steals her earrings instead of her heart. The girl he falls for next is a bit more bohemian, and a vampire. They meet after he leaves a party high, dressed as Dracula, and asks her for directions. Every second of the scene is witty. Oh, and they have a prostitute friend in common. But not like that sounds.

                So yeah, the plot isn’t really the point. Director Ana Lily Amirpour is more interested in making individual shots and scenes work then in worrying about the big picture. That’s mostly fine with me. Especially since the shots, immaculately lit, crisply composed and tightly staged, are so incredibly good. That said, A Girl Walks Home isn’t exactly style-over-substance: the subtext here is frightfully loaded with delightfully weird feminist vibes and bristles with little daggers pointed at parental, patriarchal, political and religious authority. And even if I’m not really sure what anyone is thinking or why they do what they do, I like the mystery.

                This is a horror film for people who enjoy their chills moody, modish and a bit hard to pin down. It is destined for culthood.

SLIFF 2014: The Apostle

Title: The Apostle / O Apostolo (2012)

Country: Spain

Score: 6

                During an escape attempt, a career thief learns that his cellmate once hid stolen treasure under the floorboards of an old lady’s house. After tracking down the location, tucked away in a dark and gnarled forest frequented only by weary pilgrims, it is abundantly clear that the whole hamlet is creepy. There are only six citizens, all elderly, sepulchral and suspicious, and they clearly have ill intent of their own in store for anyone they can trick into staying the night. Our roguish hero is too busy sneaking around in the moonlight with money on his mind to fall into their initial schemes, but he’s doesn’t escape unscathed. He eventually unveils the town’s dark secret, but in the process gets cursed by a mysterious ghost parade. His only hope of rescue come from an unlikely quarter.

                I love stop-motion, and if you also love stop-motion then go ahead and stop reading this review and make plans to see The Apostle. The character design conveys a lot of personality, the miniature sets are rich with gothic detail and the director sprinkles in some interesting 2D and CG animation sequences to mix things up. You won’t be disappointed in the way this film looks.

                Unfortunately, the story isn’t nearly as full of life and imagination. It has the feel of an old folk tale or classic ghost story, which while that lends it an air of timelessness, it also means you’ve heard this one before. It’s a little too simple and straightforward for my taste, and it often feels like the pacing drags just to stretch things to the feature length 70 minute mark. The villagers are so obviously evil, their machinations so easily overturned (half a dozen geriatric innkeepers, barkeeper and a priest just aren’t that much of a threat, especially to a strong young thief) and their secret so run-of-the-mill that it will be tough for adult audiences to get very invested. And yet it might be too scary, thanks to the impeccable production design, to be a safe bet for little kids. That said, the right type of kid (or adult) will love this movie, and I hope it finds its audience.

Film Atlas (Uruguay): The Silent House

Country: Uruguay

Title: The Silent House / La Casa Muda (2010)

Laura and her father trudge through a lightly wooded stretch of backcountry until they come upon a dilapidated house. While Laura explores the perimeter her father, Wilson, chats idly with the estate’s owner, a man named Nestor. (Pay attention! This will be one of the last sequences of dialog in the film.) Wilson is an old acquaintance whom Nestor has hired to clean out the first floor so that the place can be sold. It’s already late and the building has no electricity, so Wilson and Laura bed down for the night on antiquated armchairs and plan to get started at dawn. But Laura is uneasy, and so is the house. Noises from above frighten and disturb her. She wakes her father. He goes to investigate, but the sounds become more ominous and he doesn’t return. When she finds him he is unconscious, bound and bloody. The keys to the house are missing from his pockets. As Laura tries to suppress her panic and search, we see more of the house, strange polaroids and half-glimpsed figures. The house’s secrets, we gradually sense, are inextricably tied up with Laura’s own.

One of the advantages to very low-budget films is that they can be more innovative and risky than mainstream releases and The Silent House is a good example. First-time director Gustavo Hernandez takes a gamble by employing a difficult technique: shooting the film in one continuous 86 minute take (or, at least, the impression of one), a fact that will either have you dismissing the film as a gimmick or racing out to see it. While admittedly a contentious film, the single-take device works because it operates hand-in-hand with the mood and suspense of the film. It maintains a sort of parallel tension to the conventional fear of what will happen next and, in a way, closes off an avenue of escape. Knowing that the film cannot cut away or jump ahead is almost like being told you can’t close your eyes. It also helps that the technical virtuosity doesn’t cease with just the initial idea of the continuous shot: the choreography of camera and actors is fluid and smart. Florencia Colucci, who plays Laura, is almost always on camera, which is high-pressure enough, but it’s even more nerve-racking when she isn’t. And the cramped spaces, minimal lighting (including a breathless sequence lit only by camera flashes) and a few carefully-placed mirrors, while adding to the claustrophobic terror, notably make the shoot as hard on the camera operator as the actress.

While the single-take has hogged the lion’s share of controversy the story, too, has divided viewers. Writer Oscar Estevez intentionally leaves the audience almost totally starved for information for the bulk of the film. Knowing nothing about the characters is essential to the way the plot evolves, but also makes Laura rather uninteresting and inaccessible, hindering our ability to relate to or care about her plight. The upside is that the pervasive uncertainty allows the film to shapeshift so that even the genre isn’t clear until the end: Is this a supernatural haunted house? A serial killer mystery? A psychological thriller? And it’s nice that the clues, true to the title’s ‘Silent’ promise, don’t usually come from exposition and dialog, but from the detailed mise-en-scene and art direction that runs the gamut from creepy dolls and old photos to Laura’s blood-spattered tank top and erratic reactions. 

As usual with this type of thing, stay away from the American remake.

My Favorites:

The Silent House (2010)

Bad Day To Go Fishing
The Pope's Toilet

Film Atlas (Montenegro): The Man to Destroy

Country: Montenegro

Title: The Man to Destroy / Covjek Koga Treba Ubiti (1979)

The year is 1762 and we begin in Russia in the court of Tsar Peter III. At nightfall the Tsar is assassinated by agents of the Russian Orthodox Church in league with his wife, soon to be Catherine the Great. Captain of the guard Tanovic hears the news and is advised by a shady character that it is too late to resist the coup; better to flee to Montenegro. The shady gentleman is seen dropping a letter into a well, which we follow through a series of tunnels and caves until it arrives in the basket of a minor functionary in hell. He delivers it to Satan in person. Satan is outraged to learn that the balance of power has now shifted dramatically in favor of the church and he hatches a scheme to take back the Russian throne by planting a lookalike Peter III pretender in Montenegro. After consulting his Tsar Doppelganger archive, he chooses Farfa Scepan Mali, a harried and hapless teacher of child demons, to return to the surface and build a following. 

Initially reluctant and inept (an overly friendly goat almost gives him away on day one) Farfa, with the help of Tanovic and some black magic, is soon embraced by the Montenegrins whose current ruler, an elderly bishop, is self-serving and ineffectual. They recognize Farfa as Peter III in exile, a leader capable of helping the poor and defending the country from the Ottoman Empire. But Catherine II turns out to be easier to corrupt than expected and Scepan finds he is no longer needed for the devil’s work. By then he has fallen in love with the Montenegrin people, especially a buxom milkmaid, and refuses to betray them or return to hell. Satan’s agents once again employing their infinite guile to bring down the rogue monarch, marking him as: the man to destroy.

A nationalist historical epic meets bizarre gothic fantasia, The Man to Destroy is at once bafflingly scattershot and wonderfully uninhibited. Loosely based on the true story of Montenegro’s beloved con-artist-turned-progressive-reformist Tsar Stephen the Little (I'm not making that up!), the opening scene had me worry I was in for a solemn costume drama slog before it abruptly, and literally, goes to hell. Director Veljko Bulajic clearly has his most riotous fun staging these baroque underworld scenes, which play like young Cronenberg adapting Hieronymus Bosch. The rest of the film never quite rises to the level of that early peak. There is plenty of shoestring creativity in bringing together costumes and sets, but one can feel Bulajic straining at the bit of budget constraint when it comes to crowd scenes and the largely-abridged battles.

I’m both fascinated and repelled by the ways cinema gets employed for patriotic mythmaking and The Man to Destroy is an exceptional example: its pro-Slavic, anti-Church agenda must have been music to the ears of Socialist Yugoslavia’s censors, yet it’s a film that no sane viewer could possibly take seriously as propaganda. Any trace of pomp and glory fizzle in the face of the good-natured, bumbling Stefan and the loopy demon-to-demagogue story. It is ultimately the film’s unpredictable whimsy and lowbrow humor that make it shine.

Major Directors:
Veljko Bulajic

Film Atlas (Finland): The White Reindeer

Country: Finland

Title: The White Reindeer / Valkoinen Peura (1952)

The White Reindeer opens with a pregnant woman, a witch or so the narrator tells us, fleeing across an inhospitable snowscape pursued by wolves. She gives birth and dies, not a very auspicious start for Pirita, our cursed anti-hero. She grows into a beautiful young woman and catches the eye of handsome Aslak during a sledding race. The two are soon married but Aslak, a reindeer shepherd, is frequently away from home leaving Pirita at the mercy of loneliness, boredom and depression.

Seeking greater romantic fulfillment, Pirita visits an alcoholic shaman who encourages her to sacrifice the first living thing she sees on her way home to a pagan god. The first living thing she sees, unfortunately, is her husband and their pet albino reindeer doe. She slaughters the doe, becoming irresistible to men as part of the bargain, but the cost is high: she turns into a shape-shifting reindeer vampire and gradually succumbs to her unnatural hunger.

Few places lend themselves to black and white cinematography like Lapland and its unbroken canvas of snowy hillsides. The landscape alone is enough to hold one’s attention, but the primary interest of The White Reindeer is two-fold: it works as both an ethnographic slice-of-life into a rural Finnish past (where skiing and reindeer are the primary modes of transportation and, I would hazard, you’ve never seen so many reindeer!)  and as an old-fashion though oddly effective horror story in the tradition of fairytales and folklore.

Perhaps the peak of the latter experience is the scene in which Pirita makes her sacrifice before the pagan altar, a twisted monument of antler and bone shot from unexpected angles, before passing out into nightmare visions. Below these surface layers is a rather ambiguous interplay of feminist and patriarchal themes that touch upon topics of marriage, sex, domestic life and the role of women without any clear agenda, except perhaps a growing fear at the breakdown of “traditional” values.

My Favorites:

The White Reindeer

Inspector Palmu's Error

Stolen Death

The Man without a Past

Frozen Land

Major Directors:

Aki Kaurismaki, Mika Kaurismäki

Film Atlas (Australia): Picnic at Hanging Rock

Country: Australia

Title: Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)

Valentine’s Day, 1900. The girls of Appleyard College take a holiday trip to Hanging Rock, a towering ominous formation in Victoria, Australia. They enjoy a light picnic. They shade themselves under parasols. The day is lazy. The women nap. Their watches stop. Four of the girls wander off to climb and explore. Only one returns. A great deal of panic and confusion ensues. Witnesses remember nothing useful. Search parties return empty-handed. Clues, if that’s what they are, provide only the vaguest outlines of something deeper, illogical, unnatural.

Picnic at Hanging Rock is an elusive period mystery, a puzzle of subtextual and supernatural elements with no specific answer and a masterpiece of sustained tension that tantalizes, terrifies and stays with you for life. And yet it defies nearly every horror film convention: there is no villain or monster, no blood or gore, no darkness and shadows. The tension is first stirred by a beautiful contradiction: civilized English schoolgirls brought into contact with rugged primordial geology. And yet the two harmonize, briefly, and something unfathomable happens. It is not seen, articulated or understood. There is an implication that, far worse than an accident or a crime, some intangible impropriety has been committed. Peter Weir’s direction soaks up the atmosphere, the sun, the undertow of sexual repression. His camera lingers over the dry golden grass, the pale lace dresses, the iron-rich volcanic rock, with a languor and peace at odds with the anxiety and desperation overwhelming the baffled schoolmistresses, their remaining wards and the menfolk from town. We are given, in the aftermath, less a procedural in which a mysterious disappearance is unraveled, than a study of reactions to loss, grief and confusion; the toll exacted from the disconcerted survivors. Over it all, a mood-matched soundtrack of panpipe and classical piano trickles over the outback.

My Favorites:

Picnic at Hanging Rock

Walkabout

Proof

The Proposition

Moulin Rouge

Celia
The Babadook

Wake in Fright

Chopper

Rabbit-Proof Fence

Ghosts of the Civil Dead

Careful, He Might Hear You

A Cry in the Dark

Breaker Morant

Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior

The Last Wave

Lantana

Mary & Max

The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert

Major Directors:
John Hillcoat, Ray Lawrence, Phillip Noyce, Peter Weir

My Top 200 Favorite Horror Films

To celebrate Halloween 2013 here are my top 200 horror films. This is an admittedly idiosyncratic list, so I will explain a little about my taste:

Horror is one of my favorite genres, but I often find I have little in common with most other fans. With a few exceptions, I don’t much care for American slasher movies or comedy-horror. I don’t think horror films should be given a free pass on acting and writing. I tend to disdain sequels and remakes, and rarely bother seeing them even if I like the original. I find popular blockbuster horror films largely stale and rote, with too much reliance on formula and cliche. I think shock cinema and torture porn are largely hollow and pointless (real shock, in my opinion, is about violating expectations and denying gratification, not just showing revolting images). I'm uncomfortable with the latent one-upmanship in the horror community that values senseless gore, sadism and cruelty and I dislike that cultivating a jaded tolerance to that sort of thing is considered a badge of honor.

What I do like is psychological horror, atmosphere, surprises (including a good twist, if it makes sense), really dark or ambitious themes, strong visuals and sound design, moral complexity, originality, uncompromising endings, characters who don’t behave like idiots for the convenience of the plot and explorations of fear and death that function on multiple levels, dissecting individual and socio-cultural anxieties simultaneously. I like both dreamlike surrealism that scares me by providing a glimpse of the otherworldly or unknown and disturbing realism that scares me by confronting me with actual possibilities and hard truths. I genuinely enjoy the physical sensation of terror and I want a good horror films to frighten me (just like I want comedies to make me laugh and sad movies to make me cry), so I don’t consciously resist my emotional reactions. I actually quite enjoy discerningly-deployed practical and digital special effects (and even a healthy smattering of gore), as long as they don’t smother the screenplay. I’m quite fond of art-horror and foreign horror, especially gialli (though they have their own set of conventions). Though I think it is a lesser form of greatness, I occasionally enjoy campiness and cheesiness, but the so-bad-its-good thing usually only works for me when there is quite a bit of (often misguided) talent underneath.

So with all that in mind, let’s get back to the list. It’s got a lot of weird things on it. You may disagree with my rather generous definition of ‘horror’ as it includes multiple documentaries, musicals and martial arts films. Even I'm not sure of the ordering. But if you find yourself agreeing with the titles you recognize, you’ll have fun catching up on the one’s you don’t.

For the record, I don’t consider anything on this list filler. I like everything here (though some I haven’t seen in a long time). There are several times as many films that didn’t make the cut, so any movie that made it earned its spot and just because a movie didn’t make it doesn’t mean I’m not a fan.

I enforced a rule of only one film per series (including reboots), which is why you won’t see Aliens, Frankenstein, Cat People, Dawn of the Dead or Inferno.

If you are wondering about the absence of ‘classics’ like Halloween, Friday the 13^th (which is anyway a remake of the superior Italian Twitch of the Death Nerve), Dracula, Birds, Amityville Horror, Phantasm, The Blob, The Omen or The Wicker Man, the answer is that they didn’t make the cut.

If you think I’ve forgotten something or need to track a title down, put your recommendations in the comments section.

And now the list…

1. Possession (1981) France
2. Cremator, The (1969) Slovakia
3. Deep Red (1975) Italy
4. Silence of the Lambs (1991)
5. Se7en (1995)
6. Mulholland Dr. (2001)
7. Diabolical / Diabolique (1955) France
8. Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) Australia
9. Videodrome (1983) Canada
10. Eraserhead (1977)
11. Don't Look Now (1973) UK
12. Pan's Labyrinth (2006) Spain
13. Saragossa Manuscript, The (1965) Poland
14. Shining, The (1980)
15. Vanishing, The (1988) Netherlands
16. House / Hausu (1977) Japan
17. White Ribbon, The (2009) Austria
18. Alien (1979)
19. Phenomena (1985) Italy
20. Gravity (2013)
21. Boxer's Omen (1983) Hong Kong
22. Peeping Tom (1960) UK
23. Sixth Sense, The (1999)
24. Vinyan (2008) France
25. Memories of Murder (2003) South Korea
26. Thing, The (1982)
27. Death Laid an Egg (1968) Italy
28. Ring, The (2002)
29. Others, The (2001) Spain
30. What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)
31. Threads (1984) UK
32. Descent, The (2005) UK
33. Psycho (1960)
34. Suspiria (1977) Italy
35. Exorcist, The (1973)
36. Bride of Frankenstein (1935)
37. Orphanage, The (2008) Spain
38. Innocents, The (1961) UK
39. Targets (1968)
40. Night of the Hunter, The (1955)
41. Face of Another, The (1966) Japan
42. Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (1970) Czech Rep.
43. Lost Highway (1997)
44. Lunacy (2005) Czech Rep.
45. Scream (1996)
46. Trouble Every Day (2001) France
47. Cabin in the Woods (2011)
48. Cure (1997) Japan
49. Rocky Horror Picture Show, The (1975)
50. Repulsion (1965) UK
51. Chinese Ghost Story, A (1987) Hong Kong
52. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)
53. Cloverfield (2008)
54. Nosferatu, Symphony of the Night (1922) Germany
55. Shout, The (1978) UK
56. Jaws (1975)
57. Holy Blood (Santa Sangre) (1989) Mexico
58. Fourth Man, The (1983) Netherlands
59. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance (2002) South Korea
60. Paranormal Activity (2007)
61. Shallow Grave (1994) UK
62. Dead Ringers (1988) Canada
63. Unknown, The (1927)
64. Re-Animator (1985)
65. Blue Velvet (1986)
66. Devil-Doll, The (1936)
67. Murder to the Tune of Seven Black Notes / The Psychic (1977) Italy
68. King Kong (1933)
69. Night of the Living Dead (1968)
70. Battle Royale (2000) Japan
71. Faust (1994) Czech Rep.
72. Hourglass Sanatorium, The (1973) Poland
73. War Game, The (1965) UK
74. Nightmare on Elm Street, A (1984)
75. Man Who Laughs, The (1928)
76. Mr. Vampire (1985) Hong Kong
77. Paranoiac (1963) UK
78. Blair Witch Project, The (1999)
79. Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)
80. Heavenly Creatures (1994) New Zealand
81. Pitfall (1962) Japan
82. Buried (2010) Spain
83. Bird with the Crystal Plumage, The (1970) Italy
84. Tingler, The (1959)
85. Southern Comfort (1981)
86. Save the Green Planet! (2003) South Korea
87. Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The (1974)
88. Finishing School, The / House that Screamed, The (1969) Spain
89. 28 Days Later... (2002) UK
90. Gozu (Cowhead) (2003) Japan
91. Eyes without a Face (1960) France
92. Triangle (2009) UK
93. Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, The (1920) Germany
94. Rosemary's Baby (1968)
95. Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)
96. Gemini (1999) Japan
97. Devils, The (1971) UK
98. Picture of Dorian Gray, The (1945)
99. Hell (1960) Japan
100. Dr. Jekyll and His Women (1981) France
101. Carnival of Souls (1962)
102. Saw (2004)
103. Devil's Backbone, The (2001) Spain
104. Paperhouse (1988) UK
105. Phantom of the Opera, The (1925)
106. Cube (1997) Canada
107. Them! (1954)
108. Strange Vice of Mrs Wardh, The (1971) Italy
109. Tucker & Dale vs. Evil (2009)
110. Careful (1992) Canada
111. Cache (Hidden) (2005) France
112. Stage Fright (1987) Italy
113. Martin (1978)
114. Nightbreed (1990) Canada
115. Beetlejuice (1988)
116. Freaks (1932)
117. Collector, The (1965) UK
118. Deliverance (1972)
119. Curse of the Cat People (1944)
120. Open Water (2003)
121. Theater of Blood (1973) UK
122. Red Queen Kills Seven Times, The (1972) Italy
123. Honeymoon Killers, The (1969)
124. Ghostbusters    (1986)
125. Testament (1983)
126. Shaun of the Dead (2004) UK
127. Poltergeist (1982)
128. Severance (2006) UK
129. Host, The (2006) South Korea
130. Return of the Living Dead, The (1985)
131. Phase IV (1974) UK
132. Frailty (2001)
133. Fists in the Pocket (1965) Italy
134. Sunshine (2007) UK
135. Tenebre (Unsane) (1982) Italy
136. Dead Alive (1992) New Zealand
137. Amer (2009) Belgium
138. Hellraiser (1987) UK
139. Horror of Dracula, The (1958) UK
140. [REC] (2007) Spain
141. Brain that Wouldn't Die, The (1962)
142. Kwaidan (1964) Japan
143. Blood and Black Lace (1964) Italy
144. Last Wave, The (1977) Australia
145. Brood, The (1979) Canada
146. Machinist, The (2003)
147. Black Belly of the Tarantula (1971) Italy
148. Creature from the Black Lagoon, The (1954)
149. Legend of Hell House, The (1973) UK
150. Man Bites Dog (1991) Belgium
151. Killing Kind, The (1973)
152. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1932)
153. American Psycho (2000)
154. Haunting, The (1963) UK
155. Cemetery Man (1996) Italy
156. Cell, The (2000)
157. Bad Seed, The (1956)
158. Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (1973) Italy
159. Predator (1987)
160. Blade (1998)
161. Ghostwatch (1992) UK
162. Seventh Victim, The (1943)
163. Shadow of the Vampire (2000)
164. Stepford Wives, The (1975)
165. Deep Blue Sea (1999)
166. Twitch of the Death Nerve (1971) Italy
167. Kingdom (1994) Denmark
168. Carrie (1976)
169. Splice (2009) Canada
170. Vampires in Havana (1985) Cuba
171. Angst (1983) Austria
172. I Walked with a Zombie (1943)
173. Matango: Attack of the Mushroom People (1963) Japan
174. Queen of Spades, The (1949) UK
175. Misery (1990)
176. Bucket of Blood, A (1959)
177. In the Mouth of Madness (1994)
178. Unbreakable (2000)
179. Hour of the Wolf (1968) Sweden
180. Fly, The (1986) Canada
181. Case of the Scorpion's Tail, The (1971) Italy
182. Arcana (1972) Italy
183. Masque of the Red Death, The (1964)
184. Evil Dead II (1987)
185. Black Sunday (1960) Italy
186. Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust (2000) Japan
187. Devil and Daniel Webster, The (1941)
188. Event Horizon (1997) UK
189. Hellstrom Chronicle, The (1971)
190. Angel Heart (1987)
191. Crawling Eye, The / The Trollenberg Terror (1958) UK
192. Faust (1926) Germany
193. Troll Hunter, The (2010) Norway
194. Cronos (1993) Mexico
195. Incubus (1965)
196. God Told Me To (1976)
197. Onibaba (1964) Japan
198. Thesis (1996) Spain
199. Ginger Snaps (2000) Canada
200. Tale of Two Sisters, A (2003) South Korea

Hall of Strangeness Part XXXII: Vampire Edition

I’ve been watching several interesting vampire films lately (a subgenre that seems in no danger of going out of style any time soon) and I thought it would be nice to update the vampire series I did a while back. The Twilight series is notably absent, but I don’t even want to get into that. Instead, I’m going to talk about a handful of vampire oddities from around the world in my old “Hall of Strangeness” format, which is relatively undemanding both to write and to read.

Let the Right One In – (Tomas Alfredson) John Ajvide Lindqvist’s Swedish novel and Alfredson’s film adaptation have been somewhat surprising critical and popular successes. The story follows a young boy who befriends a vampire child and their difficulties dealing with bullies and an insatiable craving for blood, respectively. Shot in cold dark hues, riddled with unsettling implications and unfolding with unusual elegance and maturity, “Let the Right One In” is nevertheless a little rough around the edges. Some of the horror scenes overshoot the slow-burning mood (CG cats especially) while at other times showing too much reluctance to explore the controversial source material. Still, the film is both ominously beautiful and effectively creepy; it will doubtlessly and deservedly enjoy a cult following.

Artistry: **** Fun: *** Strangeness: **

The Living Corpse – (Abdul Baqi) Not long ago I was amused to see “Zibahkhana (Hell’s Ground)” (2007) being hailed as “Pakistan’s first horror film,” which seemed odd considering that the same description was used to promote “The Living Corpse” (1967), made four decades earlier. I’m not nearly qualified to say whether even this film really holds that title, but it certainly doesn’t hold much else. Ostensibly a retelling of the Dracula story in Hammer Horror fashion, the filmmakers couldn’t resist the requisite Lollywood musical numbers and end up with a discombobulated mess that can be unevenly enjoyed with the right mood and the right crowd.

Artistry: * Fun: ** Strangeness: ***

Thirst – (Park Chan-wook) About a third of the way into Park Chan-wook’s (best known for “Joint Security Area” and his revenge trilogy) South Korean bio-horror epic I realized that the film was really an alternate-universe adaptation of Emile Zola’s 1867 adultery fable “Therese Raquin.” It takes a fair amount of guts to modernize a 19th century French naturalist classic, but to change the main character from a petty clerk to a vampire priest is a special type of brilliant. The rather long film covers a lot of narrative ground, indulges in Park Chan-wook’s peculiar gallows humor and addressed themes of lust, repression, sacrifice, guilt and revenge. Not all of it works, but maybe it doesn’t need to.

Artistry: **** Fun: *** Strangeness: ***

Trouble Every Day – (Claire Denis) I’m really glad I have a chance to say something nice about Claire Denis, especially after being possibly the only person to dislike “35 Shots of Rum” when I saw it at SLIFF last year (so it is fitting that her oft-ignored mainstream-maligned “The Intruder” is amongst my all time favorites). With “Trouble Every Day” Denis made an unlikely entry into the vampire genre, but characteristically reinvented everything. By rhythmically alternating between several disturbing subplots featuring an inspired cast (Vincent Gallo, Beatrice Dalle, Tricia Vessey and Alex Descas) and a lot of oblique imagery, Denis weaves a Lynchian nightmare dense with atmosphere and allegory. The power of any given scene is inversely proportional to the amount of talking that occurs, so it’s fortunate that much of the film is near wordless. The soundtrack, not to mention the cannibalistic rape scenes, haunted me for weeks after viewing.

Artistry: ***** Fun: * Strangeness: ****

Vampire Ferat – (Juraj Herz) When I learned that Czech New Wave iconoclast Juraj Herz (The Cremator) had a made a horror movie about a vampire sports car starring Dagmar Havlova (16 years before she became the First Lady of the Czech Republic), I knew I had to see it no matter what. That said, going without subtitles was a tough slog and though the film is more conventional than his gothic burlesque “Morgiana,” it certainly wasn’t as easy to follow as, say, John Carpenter’s “Christine” (if you know where I can get subtitles, please link me in the comments section!). From what I could gather in-film and online the car is fueled by blood it sucks from the driver’s foot whenever the acceleration pedal is pressed. A hapless doctor turned detective (played by director Jiri Menzel) investigates the enigmatic car company Ferat (as in Nosferatu), run by an evil lesbian kingpin (queenpin?), after his ambulance-driving nurse become addicted to racing the titular vampire vehicle. Highlights include the hand-drawn opening credits, the brooding industrial soundtrack and a delightfully gory dream sequence. Herz admits that the best scenes were all destroyed by the censors.

Artistry: ** Fun: ** Strangeness: ****

Movie Lists and Sporcle Quizzes

Pathetically enough, two posts in the same month is now a flurry of activity for me. But while I haven't been writing much, I haven't stopped making an excessive number of lists.

Katie recently introduced me to Sporcle, a site that hosts an easy to use toolkit for generating user-made online quizzes. I was immediately addicted. We stayed up to about 4am our first night of playing around on it.

I'm made four movie quizzes so far, and will probably do more as the whim strikes me. Here they are:

101 Time-Travel Movies - And yes, I have seen most of them. And yes, I am that obsessed.

Directors by Signature or Trademark - How well do you know your auteurs?

Giallo Titles by Synonym (e.g. "The Feline with the Nephrite Peepers" for "The Cat with the Jade Eyes")

War Films by War - From the Crimean War to the Cambodian Civil War, from ancient Rome to the contemporary Middle East, humanity has had a terrible history of bloodshed and a wonderful tradition of films about them, but can you name titles that span almost 50 different conflicts?

Exactly Why has also entered the fray with:

H. P. Lovecraft Films

Horror Films by and Tagline

Enjoy!

Lastly, I do want to mention that I've happily sifted through a lot of "Best of the Decade" lists over the last few months, but good or bad most have been pretty predictable. That's why I was really glad to see Filmlinc's ruthlessly highbrow, unabashedly challenging Top 150 Films of the Decade.

Two films by Apichatpong Weerasethakul in the top ten? 8 Taiwanese New Wave films including at least one I've openly disparaged? No Batman or Lord of the Rings? And yet this is a list with something to say, with material worth seeing and worth discussing. Innovative films, gutsy filmmakers and expansive ideas are well represented in a way that the box office, the Oscars and the majority of our media just doesn't cover. I've got nearly a third of the list still to see and I'm really excited to track them down!

Not nearly as good or consistent, but still on the right train of thought is Slant Magazine's list. It has the added advantage of short reviews and is more than capable of furnishing some recommendations.

Sundance 2010

Sine I've not posted this year, I've let slip the chance to have topical discussions about the 2009 year-in-review, various Oscar-related issues and my experience at Sundance. But to assuage my guilty conscience I will briefly summarize the latter.

Katie and I stayed in the mountains next to Salt Lake City with our good friend Exactly Why at her gorgeous home and got to try a lot of local cuisine. We made it to 6 movies, already ably reviewed over at Exactly Why's blog. I'll give a quick rundown in my own words:

The Red Chapel - A subversive documentary about a 'spastic' Danish comedy team that travels to North Korea for a tense and awkward cultural exchange. The film says as much about the ethics of the comedians and film crew as it does about the country and ultimately runs the gamut from outrageous to depressing. Wry and thought-provoking, I can't fault Sundance for awarding this their International Documentary award.

Obselidia - A gentle road-movie romance about a reclusive collector of obsolete things and a woman who runs a silent movie theater. While it was thankfully not overly-precious (like too many of the recent rash of 'quirky' indie hits), it can be a bit on the preachy side, though I felt its heart was largely in the right place. Great acting, a comfortable script and an assured pacing made this a very charming and worthwhile little film.

Enter the Void - Gaspar Noe (Irreversible) brings his latest experiment to its third audience (after controversial Cannes and Toronto screenings) and it is both his most abrasive and most visually daring yet. Enter the Void is told primarily from the drifting perspective of a drug dealer's disembodied soul seeking reincarnation as he shifts in and out of his past and the grim present of his sister's deteriorating life as a stripper in neon-lit eye-searing Tokyo. Noe's trademark whirling camera antics are impressive, and yet unpleasantly dizzying and ultimately tedious. Working with an interesting concept and no shortage of auteur flare, the film struggles to find somewhere to end and, after 155 minutes and half a dozen opportunities to walk away with a dignified finish, bellyflops into an audacious, ill-adviced and hilarious finale (think orgasms, CG and a verrry intimate POV). Noe came out afterwards and confessed that we weren't supposed to laugh. For all that, I kind of admire the film, in that no-holds noble failure type of way.

Incidentally, when asked during the Q&A about his next project, Noe shyly admitted it would be an out-and-out porno. He didn't sound like he was kidding. With Lars von Trier (Pink Prison), Steven Soderbergh (The Girlfriend Experiment), Crispin Glover (It Is Fine. Everything Is Fine), and Kevin Smith to name a few, there seems to be more of an uptick in serious artists interested in the subject matter than I can remember since P. T. Anderson's Boogie Nights .

Tucker & Dale vs Evil - A spot-on horror comedy that presents a common film scenario (teens on a campy trip beset by villainous locals) from the sympathetic side of the rednecks. Tyler Labine and Alan Tudyk (Firefly) are perfectly cast as two lovable hillbillies who rescue (not kidnap) a beautiful psych student and befriend her while her former pals get themselves killed with such persistence that Tucker and Dale believe them to be a violent suicide cult. The semi-gimmicky plot actually manages to sustain itself pretty well and the film earned constant laughs from me, my friends and the entire audience. It is actually more entertaining than most of the films it riffs on, such as Friday the 13th, The Hills Have Eyes, Wrong Turn and even Deliverance.

Buried - Ryan Reynolds wakes up in a coffin and soon receives a cell phone call that if he can't arrange for a million dollar ransom, he will be left to suffocate. The camera never cuts outside of his tiny confines, creating an incredibly tense and utterly claustrophobic nightmare scenario that manages to stay exciting during every minute of depleting oxygen. The films even manages a good deal of creative visual variety through changes in angle and light source; the yellow of a lighter's flame, the faded red of a flashlight, the cold blue of the cell phone, the eerie green of chemical glow sticks and the amble use of pitch black create a balance of mood and practicality. Though contrived, it is easy to overlook the weaker plot points. The film easily earns a spot amongst the great low budget horror films of the digital era.

Splice - Speaking of which, Vincenzo Natali, the Canadian wunderkind behind low-budget high-concept horror classic Cube, unleashes his new genetics-experiment-gone-wrong thriller. Adrien Brody and Sarah Polley play a pair of married researchers whose gene-spliced anti-body incubator becomes a beloved pet and eventually a surrogate child. The film plays like an even-more-allegorical modern-day Frankenstein where far more than just medical ethics gets ludicrously violated. The acting and effects are top-notch, but the script may be an acquired taste. Fans of early Cronenberg or anyone willing to mix parenting woes and childrearing psychology with science-fiction and horror conventions will certainly enjoy.

Overall Sundance was a wondeful experience and I felt like all the films we saw were either highly entertaining or at least very interesting. I hope to go again next year. Katie has recently moved out to Vernal, Utah (where there's a good chance I'll one day join her) so we may be "right next door" in the midwestern 3-4 hour sense.

SLIFF 2009 Coverage Part 1

Title: Edgar Allen Poe’s Ligeia

Director: John Shirley

Country: USA

Score: 5.0

Review:

A professor of Romantic poetry with a happy carefree relationship finds himself entranced by a dark and mysterious student, with the odd name of Ligeia, who is conducting shady experiments on the nature of mortality in the university labs. Half hypnotized, half seduced, the hero is soon married to Ligeia and ensconced in a Ukrainian castle where he becomes aware of her paranormal efforts to cheat the grave.

In the great tradition of Poe adaptations (such as Roger Corman’s low-budget classics), this film shares only a few superficial ideas with the original story and largely plays up the sensational aspects (in this case the sex appeal, rather than the gore or terror). Also according to Poe-adaptation tradition, neither myself nor my friends could resist seeing this film, especially considering its Friday the 13th timeslot. I enjoyed seeing my alma mater used for quite a bit of the film’s first half and was most impressed by the remarkable cinematography and lighting. I was perhaps overly pleased by the campy screenplay and playful trashiness, which didn’t particularly resonate with some of my fellow viewers, but I thought it made for a rather entertaining, if uninspired, diversion.

Title: Terribly Happy

Director: Henrik Ruben Genz

Country: Denmark

Score: 9.0

Review:

Genz’s Danish comedy-thriller, set in a boggy rustic village with a wealth of secrets and infused with noir and western influences, was probably the most fun film I saw at this year’s festival. A city cop with a history of anger management issues is sent to replace the sheriff of a small soggy Jutland town as a form of provisional punishment. The place is quiet; clearly too quiet. Our hero hardly comes across his first report, a seemingly cut-and-dry case of domestic abuse, before he is sinking inexorably into a mire of moral compromise and corruption.

Playing like a Danish Coen brothers film, but with a voice of its own, “Terribly Happy” is a brilliant example of how you can blend genres and still make a thoughtful film with local color. The oft-visited bog where the evidence of innumerable secrets and crimes are sucked into oblivion, offers a deliciously morbid backdrop to the action while serving as a perfect metaphor for the hero’s reluctant integration into the community. The humor and awkwardness keep the film from being even the slightest bit depressing, while the frequent and unexpected plots convolutions make the deliberate pacing feel lively and tense.

Review of Four Flies on Grey Velvet

[Image: Robert, moments before squashing a fly with a climactic cymbal clash.]

“Four Flies on Grey Velvet” (1971) was released for the first time on R1 DVD this February, and I didn’t even find out until last month. That’s pretty inescapable evidence that I’ve been slacking off on my giallo intake, but no reason why I can’t have an excited delayed reaction. “Four Flies” is the last of Dario Argento’s ‘Animal Trilogy’ and the last to get released. It falls somewhere between the quality of the groundbreaking “The Bird with the Crystal Plumage” (1970) and the stodgy “Cat o’Nine Tails” (1971).

[Image: Robert and Tobias.]

Robert Tobias is a rock band musician who finds himself annoyed by a mustachioed stalker. After pursuing the man onto the stage of an abandoned theater, Robert accidentally knifes the confused guy, a murder inconveniently photographed by a masked fiend in the upper galleries. Robert and his wife Nina are then terrorized by the murderous blackmailer, who knocks off their diverse network of friends and helpers (including a gay private eye and a hobo named God). After about an hour and a half of this, the deranged killer is finally revealed.

The plot is easily amongst the worst of Argento’s oeuvre, with some of the poorest psychological balderdash to motivate the killer in particular. There’s vague hints concerning the identity of the villain, but nothing resembling actual clues, and with our protagonist passively going about business as usual while he hopes for one of his friends to catch the blackmailer, there’s no sense of an investigation with forward moving progression or rising tension.

[Image: At least there’s no shortage of focus pulls, like this elaborate zoom into Robert’s rearview mirror.]

The upside is that Argento, cinematographer Franco Di Giacomo (“Who Saw Her Die?” (1972), “The Killer Must Kill Again” (1975)) and special effects wizards Carlo Rambaldi and Cataldo Galliano work out a visual style easily on par with Argento’s best work. Their inventiveness is rather astounding, including at least three ideas that I’ve seen ripped off (more likely reinvented given the film’s low penetration) and praised in many films made decades later: slow-motion “bullet time,” following a phone cable from caller to the recipient and pulling the final image off the retina of a corpse (which even Argento admits was a stupid concept, but he liked the way it looked in the film).

[Image: A step-by-step transition from a phone booth to the killer’s home set along the route of the wires themselves.]

The special effects sequences largely guide the plot, rather than the other way around, but Argento makes this into an asset and even a primary theme. “The Bird with the Crystal Plumage” focuses heavily on what we see and how we interpret it, but “Four Flies on Grey Velvet” is more about vision on a more fundamental if less tantalizing level: how what we can and can’t see creates fear and how vision can grant power and strip privacy. Robert is tricked into manslaughter (staged, quite literally, on a stage) because he is being spied upon, then spends the rest of the film rather helpless as the villain taunts him by repeatedly breaking into his house and planting photos of the crime. At least two characters witness the villain’s work and try to blackmail the blackmailer, creating a spiral of peeper power struggles with predictably deadly results.

[Images: Plays on vision: (1st) Running a laser through an eye to get its last sight, in this case the titular four flies. (2nd) A classical peering-out-of-wardrobe-as-the-killer-searches shot with the eye caught in a sliver of light. (3rd) The type of doorknob every private eye should have. (4th) The killer’s wide-eyed grinning mask, paired with spotlights and a camera lens to make it the ultimate gaze.]

Most of the scenes are quite dark, probably one of the oldest and most worn tactics for generating fear and uncertainty in horror films. Despite this, however, Argento’s colors are usually remarkably vivid in “Four Flies,” very much in keeping with his other works from the 1970’s. It’s a combination the director often uses to apply lurid, emotion-inflected splashes onto the more typical canvas of brooding shadowy suspense. “Four Flies” contrasts the darkness with an even more unique technique, in that scenes set in the mind’s eye are brightly lit and uniformly white.

[Images: The killer’s traumatic memories of time spent in a padded cell and Robert’s reoccurring dream of a Mid-East execution.]

Like with many gialli, the games played with lighting, color and camera position don’t necessarily have any particular meaning; what’s important is how they make a viewer feel. To take an example, one scene has Robert’s maid waiting in the park to be paid off by the killer. From the first shot, we know she’s going to die and the whole exercise could unfold with excruciating predictability. Instead we get a series of intriguing flourishes: the mood changing from safe to scary via startling jump-cuts, the chase runs through an illogical hedge maze and crushingly tight tunnel and the final stabbing is left unseen, but heard from the opposite side of a tall brick wall where a young couple impotently responds to the cries for help (reminiscent of a scene in “The Leopard Man” (1943)).

[Images: The music on the park’s loudspeakers cuts off abruptly, followed by a trio of jump-cuts (every bit as quick as just glancing down the two screenshots above) showing the park going from full-swing to empty. By dramatically abridging the maid’s wait from an hour or so to a few seconds, we’re thrown off-balance.]

Other set pieces may go a bit too far, particularly one at a luxury coffin convention that serves almost no purpose and is probably intended as comic relief. There are a few other moments of largely misguided humor, including a bible-quoting bum and an incompetent mailman, that only drag out the already sparse pacing.

[Image: Presenting the race-to-heaven and honeymoon coffins!]

My biggest complaint, other than the story, is the music. It’s very rare for me to give a thumb down to anything composed by Ennio Morricone, but this is some of his least impressive work. Robert is a drummer, and I wanted to like the way that his band’s music and his rambling drum solos are crosscut into the action, but it doesn’t have nearly the right feel. Apparently Argento wasn’t happy with it either, and the two didn’t work together again until the mid-90’s.

One of the best reasons to watch giallo is the visuals, and they’re strong enough here to compensate for the admittedly extensive flaws. With the DVD now widely available and the print cleaned up expertly, giallo collectors owe it to themselves to pick this one up.

Walrus Rating: 7.0

[Image: What do you think: the most horrifying cat corpse ever or what?]

These Cliches Are For Your Own Safety

It has come to the attention of the Screen Characters Guild that preventable fatalities amongst horror film characters are at an all time high. Many characters, even protagonists and persons played by famous actors, have demonstrated a complete disregard for standard safety guidelines. It now falls upon the SCG to remind you that these practical precautions and handy rules of thumb are designed with your own safety and well-being in mind.

Please review the following brochure carefully. With luck, we hope to see you in a sequel.


If you hear a noise, thinking the killer is nearby, go silent immediately. It will actually turn out to be something else.

Whereas if you say you hear a noise you greatly multiple the real risk. Should someone else replies something like “it was probably just the wind” it will never actually turn out to be the wind or any other benign explanation offered. It will turn out to be the killer. If anyone says “I didn’t hear anything” than you are especially screwed.

Other phrases that can doom you and your entire party include:

Do not announce any phobias or weaknesses. It will only be inconvenient later when are forced to overcome them.

The first time you are attacked or chased by the killer, your boyfriend/husband will not believe you. That’s just normal. There’s a good chance you’ll shortly be vindicated by the killer unexpectedly murdering him. However, if he still doesn’t believe you after the second or third incident, I have bad news. He’s the one trying to kill you for insurance/inheritance money. If the frightening incidents you are experiencing are particularly strange and mysterious, count yourself lucky; your significant other is plotting to drive you insane instead, which gives you considerably more time to fumble about in distress before you have to buckle down and fight back.

Do not respond to any invitations from eccentric millionaires. Psychiatric experiments, even when they pay well, should obviously be rejected. Never, ever go camping. Do not visit any haunted houses or agree to look after any remote locations. If anyone describes the history of a place, avoid going there. Don’t even enter your attic or cellar (unless you have a nice finished basement) or any room where the light switch doesn’t work. Do not clear dust and cobwebs off anything. If you are in a place with lots of dust and cobwebs, leave.

Pay extremely close attention to local legends and any references to objects that could be used as weapons. Allow yourself to be regaled by old-timers, especially if everyone else regards them as crazy. If anyone starts to talk about their past, especially if involves a trauma or transgression, make a note to keep your distance. Express the utmost interest in hearing out any longwinded description of the how villainy against you was engineered.

If someone mentions that they have a twin, dead sibling or long-lost relative, avoid them and anyone who looks like them. Beware of people loudly proclaiming that they run a successful enterprise of any type. They are actually in a great deal of debt and are probably planning to kill you for your money. Treat with suspicion anyone who does not have a clear motive to be the killer. Most importantly, do not have sex with anyone. Let me repeat that: NO SEX.

Remove any keys from your key ring that do not correspond to your house, a potential escape route or a vehicle. It would also be wise to label your keys clearly and make sure they have distinctive shapes that you can distinguish in the dark and under stressful conditions.

While we’re at it, make sure to keep your gas tank full and your car battery charged. When driving, never take any detours or pick up hitchhikers. If you must pick up a hitchhiker, do not proceed to turn on the car radio and listen to news bulletins. It is highly recommended that if you even find yourself driving anywhere with a group of friends, to just turn around and settle for a subdued little get-together at a crowded, well-lit pizza parlor. Do not invite your ex.

And remember, safety is the responsibility of everyone.

Well, except the killer.

Review of The Shout

When a trailer uses the hyphenate “soul-shattering” multiple times, it’s clear the film isn’t going for a soft sell. I have to admit to possessing a perverse pleasure in such hyperbole. How can one not be amused, for instance, by William Castle’s overkill showmanship, like his advertisements for “Macabre” (1958) that claimed, “Any member of the audience is insured for $1000.00 against DEATH BY FRIGHT during the performance of this terrifying picture!” Considerably less risk was involved than the ambulances Castle would park right in front of theaters. Another fine example is the early William Shatner Esperanto film “Incubus” (1965) whose shortsighted trailer predicted that “Time can not fade the brilliance of… THE INCUBUS!”

But my favorite overblown trailers hit a hypnotically bombastic cadence with the title functioning as a portentous refrain. That actually applies to “Incubus” rather nicely. One of the most iconic is the “Zardoz” (1974) trailer which opens with "BEYOND 1984. BEYOND 2001. BEYOND LOVE. BEYOND DEATH.” and includes largely fanciful interpretations of the plot like "...AND THEN ZARDOZ CREATED GOD... AND IN THE END ZARDOZ RE-CREATED MAN!"

This is my long way of getting around to how much I liked the trailer for “The Shout” (1978), which is where the aforementioned cases of “soul-shattering” cropped up, as in, “Greater than the frightening power of exorcism. More mystifying than any omen of reincarnation. The soul-shattering experience of... the SHOUT.” In case you were concerned, I managed to escape a viewing with my spiritual essence intact, but I highly approved of the film as a whole and especially the fact that one of the main characters quite literally does get his soul shattered. Since you are probably wondering, it breaks into exactly four pieces.

The plot comes from a 1929 short story by Robert Graves, who is played by Tim Curry in the film. Graves encounters a mysterious madman (Crossley, played by Alan Bates) while scoring a cricket game at a scenic asylum. Crossley relays the story of one of the patients, Anthony Fielding (John Hurt), and his wife Rachel (Susannah York).

Some years previous Crossley shows up at the Fielding’s remote house along the English coastline. Despite being a rather abrasive stranger, Anthony invites him to stay for a time. At dinner, their unusual guest claims to have spent the last 18 years living deep in the Australian outback, ritually practicing the aboriginal right to slay his offspring. Rachel, who has been unsuccessfully trying to conceive with Anthony, is visibly disturbed, and Anthony soon has even greater cause for discomfort. Crossley describes having studied sorcery during his sojourn, including a monstrous power called “the terror shout” capable of killing everything within hearing. Soon Crossley is using his black magic to seduce Rachel and Anthony’s only recourse lies in destroying the physical manifestation of Crossley’s soul.

The material seems suited to the likes of Roger Corman or Hammer Film Productions, but with director Jerzy Skolimowski at the helm, the film is considerably more compelling than it might intrinsically deserve. For one thing, he chooses to film the horror story with genuine gravity and coaxes performances from his cast that are surprisingly devoid of cheesiness. The directing and acting are so good it’s easy to forget the film has hardly any budget and an almost absolute absence of special effects, action and gore.

Alan Bates overwhelms the screen, cutting a disquietingly dark profile with his chaotic hair and black overcoat. His bearing has the casual assurance of a man fully aware of his powers while his soft-spoken voice somehow dominates every exchange. Skolimowski uses sudden close-ups of his glowering eyes, unshaven jaw and deliberate hands to capture the uncomfortable intensity of his mere presence.

Other visual tactics contribute to the brooding, unremitting atmosphere, including excellent use of the cold, windswept landscapes. Rarely have grassy knolls and lonely beaches and ever seems so haunting and unpleasant. A liberal smattering of Francis Bacon prints, one briefly reenacted by Rachel (who even turns black and white for a few frames), certainly doesn’t help one feel warm and fuzzy either. However, the unique effectiveness of “The Shout” comes less from its visuals than from its sound design.

I have to confess to being rather unskilled at dealing with music in my reviews. I can’t play any nor can I easily recognize even relatively famous bands and I don’t know the jargon for describing it accurately. I do honestly believe that film is first and foremost a visual medium, but I doubtlessly neglect the audio unduly and don’t pay close enough attention to it. Today will be an exception.

It is probably not surprising that a movie about a fatal cry places conspicuous emphasis on sound design, but “The Shout” is really in a league with few other horror films save “Eraserhead” (1977). Eschewing the classical arrangements of creaky floorboards, slamming doors and maniacal laughs, the film instead opts for unearthly resonances; vibrations that hold the tense energy of something about to buckle… or explode.

Anthony is a part-time organist for the local church and an experimental musician whose work more closely resembles that of a foley artist (clearly not part of the original story given when it was written). He records insects buzzing about in jars, marbles rolling about in a wet pan and a violin bow sliding across a desiccated sardine tin. His interest in eerie and outlandish auditory effects makes him susceptibly curious about the terror shout (the sound bite doesn’t disappoint) and helps shape our understanding of his psychological state. The soundtrack often times feels as though it is giving expression to his introspective spells, the growing discord in his relationship and his rising fear and anxiety.

After foregrounding Anthony’s obscure hobby Skolimowski has us especially attentive to the subtleties of the background noise for the rest of the film. Within it he weaves uncanny touches like faint organ music, shrill bird cries or sudden changes in pitch as though even the wind carried some ominous message. It also helps structure the film, as the crack of a cricket ball periodically pulls us out of the flashback and into the present. The climax, a cacophony of lightning, screaming and explosions, comes as the culmination of a mounting auditory intensity that run through the entire film.

Conversely, the characters tend to talk quietly and politiely, often whispering, as if hiding themselves in a cloak of civility. This comes in sharp contrast with the primal scream of the terror shout. Anthony’s initial life consists of peaceful rural contentment, easy sexual gratification shared between his trusting wife and a breezy affair in the village and a harmless hobby where he maintains precise control over his experiments. The way sound comes to overpower this life keys us to its growing danger and intoxicating power. It grants a sense of scale, like an echo in a vast chamber, that dwarfs the Fieldings and implies the unfathomable horror that, as Crossley says, requires “imagination outside our direct experience.”

Fans of the type of psychological atmosphere horror I often advocate will almost certain enjoy. It’s a great opportunity to get more familiar with Jerzy Skolimowski, who has to be one of the most underrated directors around even compared to his Polish School compatriots. I’ve only seen a handful of his other films, the best being his spectacular “Deep End” (1970) (which has inexplicably lacked an official release), though I can also recommend “Moonlighting” (1982) with Jeremy Irons.

Walrus Rating: 8.0