The Facebook Reviews! Part 2

Beyond the Door 2 aka Shock (Italy 1977: Dir Mario Bava) First time for re-viewing this since I saw it at the cinema in 1980 twinned with a heavily snipped version of Vicente Aranda's The Blood Spattered Bride (1972), under its original title Shock. Although it's Bava's last feature directing credit it's much better than I remember and is very creative on a slim budget. Its urban setting pre-empted most of the 'haunted semi' movies of the late 70s/early 80s (it reminded me of an extended Thriller TV episode with added gore, and Bava's son Lamberto, who worked on it, said that his father was very influenced by Stephen King's writing at the time). Poor old Daria Nicolodi goes through it in a way that reminded me of Jennifer Lawrence in mother! (co-incidentally both actors were 27 years old at the time of filming their respective movies). And for those who haven't seen it, there's a sleight of hand trick at the end that's incredibly effective.

Madhouse (Italy 1981: Dir Ovidio Assonitis) The third in Assonitis' run of horror movies as director (preceded by Beyond the Door and Tentacles), Madhouse is slow to start but, as the title suggests, works up a bonkers head of steam. Trish Everly plays Julia whose ten tons o' crazy twin sister Mary is confined to hospital after contracting a wasting disease. Pretty Julia is a teacher at a school for deaf children (there are some sweet scenes with the kids) but her life is in peril not just from her sister, who has escaped from hospital and is hellbent on revenge, but other members of the family too. Madhouse is all about the last half hour really but on the way you get a demonic (ok just angry) mutt, some slow motion running and a soundtrack whose instrumentation largely comprises double bass and syndrum (you know, like the one in the 1980 Kelly Marie song 'Feels Like I'm in Love'). The movie's working title was Happy Birthday and even if you've not seen it you don't have to be a genius to work out how the film's big set piece might be set up. Filmed in the freezing cold in Savannah, Georgia in a rambling old house, Madhouse has just enough going for it to sustain the attention; it's infinitely better than Beyond the Door, that's for sure.

The Party (UK 2017: Dir Sally Potter) Saw this yesterday. I am afraid it left me completely cold, which wasn't the case for the rest of the audience, who collectively found it a hoot. The script had the opportunity to be acidic but Patricia Clarkson's one liners were all undercooked, and Timothy Spall, who I have a lot of time for, overacted for England.

The only vaguely interesting character was played by the gorgeous Cillian Murphy - the rest of it was just an arch chamber piece rattling around in search of a decent one act play. Funniest bit was the audience who presumably didn't know it was only 71 minutes long (perfect for me as I had somewhere to go afterwards) and were audibly shocked when it ended abruptly. I did like the house's walled garden though. Always wanted a walled garden.

Aenigma (Italy 1987: Dir Lucio Fulci) Not nearly as dire as many have made out, this shows a rather restrained Fulci at work in a film which despite its indebtedness to movies like Carrie (revenge on girls who play a near fatal prank - actually the 1978 Carrie ripoff Jennifer is closer to the mark) and the 1978 Aussie movie Patrick (said revenge carried out by comatose patient in a hospital bed) has enough originality to make it watchable. 20 year old Lara Lamberti is pretty good as Eva, a newcomer to a Boston school (actually Sarajevo) where a bunch of girls have previously played a trick on one of their classmates, Kathy (Mijlijana Zirojevic). The prank goes wrong and Kathy is rendered comatose, but the wronged student uses newly arrived sex mad Eva as a vessel to wreak revenge on the girls that put her in her vegetative state.

There's death by snails (which, if you're interested, takes ages), aerobics, and a weird menage a trois involving the doctor taking care of Kathy, Eva (and by default Kathy too). Working with reduced budgets and ill health, it's perhaps a marvel that Fulci's film turned out as well as it did. Best seen as one of the director's many attempts in the 1980s to branch out into different territories, and certainly better than many of his other 'experiments' in the same decade (Conquest, I'm looking at you).

Far from the Madding Crowd (UK 2015: Dir Thomas Vinterberg) Vintenberg's reworking of the Thomas Hardy novel is so polite and anxious not to offend it almost asks for your permission before showing itself to you. Although some of the turns are good - Michael Sheen as the increasingly unhinged William Boldwood steals the show - Carey Mulligan doesn't yet have the range of emotions needed for Bathsheba Everdene so merely comes across as a backs to the land proto feminist, and Matthias Schoenaerts - complete with Mittel European accent - misreads the complex and brooding Gabriel Oak character as requiring the 'strong and silent' treatment. To be honest I wilted a bit when the first title card read 'Dorset - 200 miles from London' and it didn't really pick up from there. This is Sunday tea time stuff and no more, with all the depth of the source material removed in favour of lots of profound turn-of-the-seasons shots and just one more close up of Miss Mulligan framed by the magic hour west country landscape. Disappointing.

Begin Again (USA 2013: Dir John Carney) Call me uncharitable (and I am aware that Begin Again has its fans), but I found this film both uninteresting and faintly nauseating - a movie for those who believe in the ultimate truth and beauty of car advertisements. Mark Ruffalo is a vaguely alcoholic record company mogul who seems to have been responsible for most of the key musical happenings in the western world, but has become disillusioned with his firm's obsessions about getting songs onto adverts and putting media teams behind every signing. His delight at seeing winsome Keira Knightley, singing one of her breathy compositions in a bar, makes the scales fall from his eyes as he realises that he's been missing the essential truth of good honest from the heart music. What's baffling is that Knightley seems to be the first 'singer/songwriter' he's come across - where has he been for the past five years?

If the set up sounds interesting (and it takes 45 minutes to get this far using the old cinematic standby of showing three different perspectives leading to one moment), the remaining hour focusing on Ruffalo and Knightley recording their album alfresco on the streets of New York City definitely isn't. This is essentially a retread of let's-do-the-show-right-here wish fulfillment movies of the past, but lacks any of the grit that underlies the film's message about keeping it real - it's as manufactured as the music it sets out to rally against. Director John Carney should have watched Alan Parker's 1980 movie Fame to get an idea of how to combine urban settings with the euphoria of artistic creation, but this just had me thinking of that advert with the guy hanging out of his impossibly expensive loft apartment to the strains of 'Easy Like a Sunday Morning'. Atrocious.

New Films Round Up #7 - Reviews of The Snare (UK 2017), Shock (USA 2016), Incarnate (USA 2016), Arbor Demon aka Enclosure (USA 2016), Sadako V Kayako (Japan 2016) and The Eyes of My Mother (USA 2016)

The Snare (UK 2017: Dir C.A.Cooper) First time feature director C. A. Cooper's extraordinary three hander tells a strange and ultimately horrific story, focusing on Alice, Lizzy and Lizzy's boyfriend Carl, who decide to get away from it all and hole up in Lizzy's father's Brighton penthouse flat. Problem is that Lizzy's dad doesn't know that the keys have been taken and when the trio move in, they eventually find themselves stuck on their floor, with neither lift nor emergency exit staircase accessible. With the caretaking staff on holiday and no residents in any of the other flats, they are abandoned and isolated. Worse still, the flat appears to be haunted, or is it just Alice's precarious mental state conjuring up visions of strangers? With food supplies dwindling and primitive sexual urges awakening, how will the three stay alive?

A UK movie with a setup more likely to come from a film made on the other side of the Channel, Chris Cooper's The Snare is a completely bizarre piece of film making. All three of the lead characters are pretty unlikeable human beings, and combined with the outright incredulity with which the viewer initially greets the prospect of them actually being trapped in the flat, the movie shouldn't work at all. But The Snare gradually exudes a quiet but persuasive power as the apartment's occupants start to shrug off the things that make them civilised human beings (not that Carl was much of a gent to start with). The claustrophobia and potential for sexual violence reminded me of Polanski's 1965 movie Repulsion (a touch point for a number of modern urban horrors it would seem) and the breakdown of civilised society through the prism of the three flat dwellers has its roots in 'Lord of the Flies' but also recalls Andrzej Żuławski’s 1981 movie Possession.

Accounts of making the film have suggested that the cast rather went through the wringer during production. Carl in particular, whose ingestion of maggots in some scenes is pretty stomach churning, is bravely acted by Dan Paton, but all three give it some acting welly. Strong stuff indeed but don't expect a happy ending.

Shock (USA 2016: Dir Moziko Wind, Markiss McFadden) Written by and starring the comprehensively untalented Mohammed Bardi as a washed up ex-cop privately investigating a series of deaths linked to a psychiatric facility, Shock is without doubt the crummiest film I've seen so far this year - and I don't want to see any film that could be worse than this.

Wind and McFadden both have very bitty directing careers and this one is not going to help their CVs. Aside from Bardi's atrocious turn as the most unconvincing ex-druggy/boozehound (how is it possible for an actor to verbally mangle his own script?) central character David Evans, all of the supporting cast, despite being universally attractive, are just so much dead meat. Everyone chews through their scenes, which go on forever, and there's no attempt to advance the plot or explain just why there exists a blue faced killer and someone else wearing tryout make up for a camp Evil Dead remake.

Shock comes in at just under 70 minutes - it's the visual equivalent of turning in written homework where you make the text spread to three sides of paper just so you have two sheets to staple together and make it look like a credible effort. Apparently this has been released on Amazon Prime and itunes in the US - pray it doesn't come to the UK. Really really fucking horrible.

Incarnate (USA 2016: Dir Brad Peyton) Brad Peyton's background in the director's chair has ranged from kids' movies featuring The Rock (2012's Journey 2: The Mysterious Island) to disaster movies featuring The Rock (2015's San Andreas). Incarnate is his first 'adult' film, and you'll forgive me if I spent the whole movie trying to work out which graphic novel it was adapted from. Well apparently it wasn't, which kind of gives you an impression of how the movie comes across.

Chiselled Aaron Eckart is Dr. Ember, a scientist who has discovered the ability to inhabit the minds of possessed people and the power to carry out mental exorcisms. With his trusty team he's wired up Inception style, jumps into the unfortunate victim's brain space and flushes the bad stuff out. Dr Ember of course has a backstory; we meet him confined to a wheelchair, the result of a car crash in which his wife and son died, killed by a demon, Maggie, driving the oncoming vehicle. To be clear Maggie isn't the demon's real name - that would be rubbish - but rather the woman driving the car whose body the demon takes over. So while his gifts are seemingly altruistic in nature, in reality Ember is searching the minds of others for the elusive 'Maggie'.

The graphic novel adaptation suspicions refuse to abate with subplots involving the Catholic church and the development of a serum which gives Ember a 10 second 'lucidity break' with which to help him end his life if the going gets too demonic. As you'd expect from an accomplished director like Peyton this is slickly done stuff, reasonably enjoyable but daft as a brush. Incarnate's end credits - a 2013 production but only released in 2016 - suggest a troubled production by a company not sure how to market their finished product. I would have had the same problem.

Arbor Demon aka Enclosure (USA 2016: Dir Patrick Rea) Young couple Dana and Howard go off into the woods to celebrate their second wedding anniversary. He's about to go on tour with his rock band, fulfilling what looks suspiciously like a mid life crisis, while Dana hides from him the fact that she's pregnant, even though Howard reminds her that they're not a couple who want kids. However the woods have secrets of their own, namely a group of folk horror type creatures that make a meal of a group of gun toting locals - the sole survivor of that gang, Sean, finding refuge in Dana and Howard's tent as the beasts of the woods stalk them.

Patrick Rea's extensive experience in making short films informs the stripped down structure of this rather odd creature feature, which like a lot of monster movies these days can't decide whether it's a proper adult drama or full on horror flick. This does neither particularly well (Rea should learn some lessons about not over exposing your monsters - they just look silly) and the three hander drama between Sean, Dana and Howard is well acted if inconsequential. Things liven up towards the end - no spoilers but it involves Dana's baby bump. This is a nicely photographed, well put together film which summoned not an iota of fear in this viewer until maybe the last fifteen minutes, a case of too little too late.

Sadako V Kayako (Japan 2016: Dir Kôji Shiraishi) While watching this baffling and totally unnecessary team up between two 'titans' of J-Horror (it says here), I was musing on the idea of creature playoffs in cinema history. In the 1940s Universal pitched their classic monsters together in a number of films, my favourite being the rather beautiful (in content if not title) Frankenstein vs the Wolfman (1943). Toho Studios cashed in on the immense popularity of Godzilla with a seemingly endless number of 'Godzilla Vs' films following his 1954 debut. And of course there have been franchise oddballs like Freddy Vs Jason (2003) and the gamer spinoff Alien Vs Predator movies. But Sadako V Kayako really takes the prawn cracker, featuring the supernatural creatures from respectively Ringu and The Grudge movies and pitting them together in what must be the slowest fight to the death ever filmed.

And worry not if you haven't seen either of the source movies: Shiraishi explains the genealogy of both over the course of the film's rather too long hour and forty minutes, although he spends far longer over Sadako than he does the rather less interesting Kayako. How the two come together is a rather convoluted setup. Two girls buy a VCR to transfer an old wedding tape to DVD, only to discover THAT tape left in the machine; a family with a young daughter move into the 'Grudge' house, instantly triggering the hauntings familiar to anyone who has seen the previous franchise outings. The three haunted girls are drawn together by a lively medium, complete with kung fu poses, who feels that by playing the summoning tape from Ringu in the house featured in The Grudge he will bring the two protagonists together to slug it out over the girls' souls. Don't get too excited if this sounds like fun - most of the good stuff only happens in the last ten minutes, in true B movie style - and the spirits are so slow that it's touch and go as to whether any slugging's going to take place at all. 

Sadako v Kayako could have been dafter, shorter, more bloody, less stupid, all manner of things. It's a chore to watch and serves neither of the original films well at all. So it fits right in with the pantheon of movie monster mash ups then.

The Eyes of My Mother (USA 2016: Dir Nicolas Pesce)  First time director Nicolas Pesce's sombre mood piece is nowhere near as portentous as he clearly hoped when making it. It IS pretentious though, and very hard to like.

Shot in black and white but failing to make best use of its mid-west USA locations, The Eyes of My Mother is the story of Francisca, a girl with a poor start in life - her surgeon mother is murdered by a stranger who enters their house - who grows up with strange murderous desires (and more than a whiff of mum's chosen profession) beginning to awaken in her. Her mother's killer is imprisoned in the barn, his eyes and tongue removed, while Francisca continues to care for him; she also solicits the the comfort of others, with predictably disastrous results.

Quite what this is all about is anyone's guess. As Francisca Kika Magalhaes is monosyllabic and waif like but almost entirely without charisma, which is quite a problem when you have to carry the film. Despite its tawdry subject matter - necrophilia, murder and dismemberment among its charms - The Eyes of My Mother is a very polite, not to mention soporific movie. The subtitling (Francisca is of Portuguese extraction) and monochromatic vision suggests it has its eyes on the arthouse circuit, but it's a poorly executed film offering neither pleasure nor edification.