Foxtrot (Israel/Switzerland/Germany/France 2017: Dir Samuel Maoz)

Samuel Maoz's belated follow up to his well received debut feature, 2009's Lebanon, is a three act movie about war and loss that plays fast and loose with your expectations of how such subject matter should be treated on film.

In the first section, two Israeli soldiers arrive at the door of Michael and Daphna's apartment, with devastating news about their soldier son Jonathan, who has been killed in combat. The resultant clash of grief and procedure, with the soldiers mechanically going through the motions of dealing with the newly bereaved, is hellish to watch but also attains a dark Coen-esque humour. A sedative is administered to Michael's wife, and the shocked, grieving husband is sent text messages every hour to remind him to drink more water. It's an absurd and tragic opening, compounded by Michael's brother Avigdor quietly organising the words for the funeral eulogy with almost indecent haste, and a visit to the siblings' Alzheimer's ridden German speaking Holocaust surviving mother, who is unable to distinguish Michael from his brother.

A confusion of identities leads to the second act of the film; it transpires that a soldier with the same name as Jonathan was killed, and their son is safe. He's part of a small garrison of soldiers listlessly guarding a checkpoint - named Foxtrot - on the northern border of Israel, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. They're bored out of their minds, their tedium interrupted by exercising their limited authority stopping cars at the crossing barrier, and subjecting the occupants to an ID check (ironically the ID shown is usually false but it's the power of being able to stop drivers that's more important than authenticating their identity). Ultimately this boredom and lack of focus leads to a terrible accident, which gives way to the film's final part, in which Michael, now separated from Daphna and keen to be reunited with his son, endures a final and this time very real tragedy.

Apparently the kernel of the idea for Foxtrot came from an incident in the director's own life where, refusing his daughter money for a cab to get to school, she ran to catch a bus instead. Maoz subsequently heard that the bus she was due to board had been blown up in a terrorist attack, and until he learned that she had in fact missed it, for a short time had to live with the thought that his daughter was dead. Something of the dread and relief of that story inhabits the mood of Foxtrot, but the absurdity of life shines through too: the guards raising the border barrier to let through a camel, and a soldier practising his dance moves using his gun as a partner are just two of the film's more striking images. But the title of the film, after a dance whose moves lead the dancer back to the place where they started, suggests that the overall theme of the film is of characters stuck within their own lives, and as such offers little redemption for its cast.

The Prodigy (USA/Canada/Hong Kong 2019: Dir Nicholas McCarthy)

Nicholas McCarthy's previous horror features, The Pact (2011) and At the Devil's Door (2014) were well received but rather abstract and at times obscure movies. McCarthy seems to have gone back to the drawing board for his third genre outing and made a film that pretty much signposts its influences, designed with a Saturday night crowd in mind, but which still has sufficient directorial tics to make it interesting beyond its surface appeal.

Taylor (Orange is the New Black) Schilling plays Sarah Blume, who has just had a baby, at exactly the same time that hand severing serial killer Edward Scarka - dubbed 'The Thrush Creek Killer' - has been shot dead by police. Sarah's new son Miles (an astonishing performance from Jackson Robert Scott) develops very quickly, being put into a special pre school at the age of two. Everyone notices that Miles' eyes are a different colour to each other - "he's like David Bowie" comments mum - which seems unusual.

But things are not right - as a five year old Miles callously kills a spider; he may also have been complicit when a babysitter cuts her foot badly on some strategically placed glass while playing a game of hide and seek with him, and he was definitely responsible for wielding a wrench on a classmate in school when he didn't get his way. Added to this Sarah notices Miles talking in a different language while he is asleep, which she finds odd enough to want to record. School psychologists try to explain it away with terms like Oppositional Defiance Disorder, but when Miles implies that he may be subject to abuse (a story clearly created by the boy), things begin to get out of hand. Psychologist Arthur Jacobson (Colm Feore) identifies the recorded language spoken by Miles as a specific form of Hungarian dialect only spoken by a small number of people, and also introduces Sarah to the very real concept of reincarnation. Could Miles have been invaded by a reincarnated soul?

McCarthy's film is, let's face it, bat shit crazy. But for a movie which seems concocted from bits of a dozen other movies, it's amazing that's it's watchable at all, let alone good. Which it is. The most obvious source is The Exorcist (1973) which McCarthy has admitted was a major influence, but it also reminded me of Jonathan Glazer's 2004 weirdfest Birth (in which a mother is convinced that her young son is the reincarnation of her dead husband) and of course the serial killer reincarnated in a children's doll movie Child's Play (remade this year, the first trailer for which was unveiled, tellingly, on the day of The Prodigy's release Stateside). There are numerous other cinematic references floating round the film too, ranging from Joseph Ruben's psycho child feature, The Good Son (1993), to John Carpenter's adaptation of The Thing (1982) and 1976's The Omen (the end credit font is also remarkably similar to the one used in that film). Oh and for those who know Maria Bava's Shock (1977), he's gone and nicked the standout effect in that movie.

So what makes The Prodigy worth seeing? Mainly, it's the performances. Taylor Schilling and Jackson Robert Scott are electrifying respectively as the mother who grows to fundamentally mistrust her offspring, and the child who transforms from loving toddler to evil infant. Brittany Allen also turns in a solid performance as Scarka's last victim; like all of McCarthy's films, it foregrounds a strong woman (Blume is married but her husband John (Peter Mooney) is little more than a bit part).

This is a film that isn't afraid to mount some jump scares, but does them in a way which restores their power in such a movie ie they are genuinely surprising. And there are also some creepy touches which almost go unnoticed, particularly a view of Miles, half in shadow, whose face briefly takes on the guise of someone much older. The film uses the same muted colour palette as his previous movies, which is unsurprising as the cinematographer is Bridger Nielson, who worked on all three of McCarthy's fright films, providing an increasingly claustrophobic feel. Jeff Buhler's script may be silly but in the mouths of its cast it's convincingly rendered (Buhler is currently working on reboots of Grudge, Jacob's Ladder and Pet Semetary over the next couple of years). As an all round package The Prodigy delivers. Highly recommended.

Dark Eyes Retrovision #10 - Parents (1989 Canada/USA: Dir Bob Balaban)

When Parents was released on home video back in the day, (July 1989 to be precise and cut by three minutes from the cinema release) I thought it really was something different. Critics tended to disagree, and generally gave it the thumbs down. Thirty years on and Vestron have re-released the movie, completely uncut, for a 21st century audience to re-consider.

1950s stylings were very 'in' during the 1980s. Parents is part Norman Rockwell, part Blue Velvet era David Lynch. It also recalls Paul Bartel's Eating Raoul (1982) and John Waters movies like Polyster (1981) and Hairspray (1988). Where this movie attempts something different - and why it probably felt different to me at the time of initial viewing - is that it pitches the narrative from the perspective of a young boy, playing on the inherent suspicion a child has of its parents as figures of authority but also independent adults in their own right.

So it's 1958, and we're somewhere in the suburbs of the mid USA. 10 year old Michael Laemle (Bryan Madorsky in his only screen credit - he would go on to be an accountant) lives with his parents, a distant pair who seem to have stepped out of a household management advert, and who force feed their son with an almost constant supply of cooked meat. Michael isn't keen - why, he's verging on vegetarian - and is increasingly suspicious of the origin of dinner, lunch and tea.

Dad Nick (Randy Quaid, looking constantly sweaty) is a scientist working at the local Toxico (geddit?) laboratory, developing a chemical product that will quickly eliminate forestry enabling more cattle rearing to take place. Mum - ok, mom Lily (May Beth Hurt), is a pinafore wearing domestic goddess, forever up to her elbows in mince or devilling kidneys at any hour of the day.

Michael's concerns spill out in his dreams - of drowning in blood - and into his schoolwork; when asked to draw his family he defaces the entire page of an exercise book with red jagged crayon lines. He is referred to the school psychologist (a brilliant turn from the late Sandy Dennis who sadly died only three years after Parents was completed), and there is a marvellous scene where Michael's mother, quizzed by the psychologist about her son's relationship with his parents, remains absolutely clueless.

The movie builds to a grand guignol climax as expected, and Parents has moments when mom and dad are exposed for the creatures they really are (recalling Brian Yuzna's 1989 movie Society). But, and it's a criticism that's been levelled at the film before, the film shows its hand too early - ie that Nick and Lily aren't the cookie cutter parents they make out to be - and then extends the 'eat your meat' gag pretty much through the whole film.

Parents is worth a watch for its overall style and for Quaid's - and to some extent Madorsky's - sinister performances. It's perhaps not as nasty as it should be, but it has the benefit of a sharp script; one of the best lines in the film comes when, in response to a question about where the food he's given comes from, Michael is told "Leftovers." "But what were they before they were leftovers?" he enquires.

Parents special features include an audio commentary with director Bob Balaban and producer Bonnie Palef, interviews with composer Jonathan Elias, screenwriter Christopher Hawthorne, Mary Beth Hurt, director of photography Robin Vidgeon and even decorative consultant Yolanda Cuomo.

Parents is released on Blu Ray as part of the Vestron Collector's Series on 25th February 2019.

Dark Eyes Retrovision #9 - Ring (Japan 1998: Dir Hideo Nakata)

The twentieth anniversary of the release of arguably one of the most important horror movies of the late twentieth century (it made No. 12 in The Guardian's list of the 25 best horror films of all time back in 2010) is an opportunity to revisit the film that caused all of the fuss, courtesy of Arrow Video's new restoration.

Like much 'weird' Japanese cinema, Ring was based on an ancient folk tale, Banchō Sarayashiki,(translated as The Dish Mansion at Banchō). The story, dating from the eighteenth century, centres on Okiku, a maid who resists being tricked into sleeping with her master. After being fatally thrown into a well as punishment (some versions have her killing herself), her ghost rises and seeks revenge.

Nakata's version, which was adapted from a 1991 novel by Kôji Suzuki (an earlier made for TV adaptation, Ring: Kanzenban, was released three years earlier), develops the story, adding touches of MR James into the mix, specifically 'Casting the Runes.'

A reporter, Reiko Asakawa (Nanako Matsushima), investigating a mysterious series of deaths - including that of her niece - is led to a rented cabin, where she finds a video cassette. The tape contains a series of strange images which triggers a revenge curse delivered via a phone call, giving her one week to live. Enlisting the help of her ex husband Ryūji, Reiko searches for the truth behind the tape, which leads to her finding out about Sadako Yamamura, a girl with psychic powers whose rage at her death reaches out from beyond the grave. With Reiko, Ryūji and her son Yoichi in mortal danger (all three who have now watched the tape), it's a race against time to find the body of Sadako and lift the curse, which, it is finally discovered, can only be achieved by copying the tape and passing it on to someone else.

While Nakata's film is to some extent a triumph of mood over logic (why the phone calls? How did Sadako's rage physically manifest itself onto the videotape?) Ring succeeds for a number of reasons. First, it's a great 'daylight' horror film. The trappings of the movie may be gothic, but the stylings are remarkably prosaic. Here a telephone replaces the ouija board and the television is the medium for conveying the haunting; for most of its running time Ring doesn't rely on darkness and shadows for its mood. The look and basic premise of Ring was later borrowed for a number of movies, most notably David Robert Mitchell in his 2014 movie It Follows.

The story plays out in the grand 'onion skin' tradition, gradually unravelling the story, leading to the film's big payoff scene - the appearance of Sadako out of the TV set - only after much exposition and careful character building; even if the premise requires suspension of disbelief, the people in the story feel real.

Also, the film's horror is largely implied. In the source novel the revenge deaths are described explicitly, but in the film it's suggested by the agonised faces of the victims that they may in part have died of fright, and it's this subtlety which connects Ring to the golden age of Japanese horror, and directors like Nobu Nakagawa or Gorô Kadono. In the novel Sadako is hermaphrodite, a fact emphasised in the 1995 version, in which the ghost spends an inordinate amount of time topless. Sadako's appearance in Nakata's version, with her white dress and long, straggly black hair obscuring her face, is straight out of the pages of Japanese folklore; although Nakata has disclosed in interview that the reason he his her features was simply because he had shown too much of the spirit's visage in his earlier Don't Look Up (1996) and been criticised for it.

There's a very good overview of the Ring franchise courtesy of the online version of Empire magazine here. As a postscript, Nakata has returned to Ring for his latest movie, Sadako, due out later this year, wherein the director has promised a ghost for a new generation of fans. Let's hope it's better than the appalling F. Javier Gutiérrez directed 2017 US movie Rings or the 2016 Toho styled face off flick Sadako vs. Kayako, directed by Kôji Shiraishi, which pits the ghost from Ring against the child spirit from Ju-On:The Grudge. Bizarre indeed.

Ring will be re-released in UK cinemas on 1 March 2019 and on Steelbook, Blu Ray, DVD and Digital HD on 18 March.

Dark Eyes Retrovision #8 - Breakfast at Tiffany's (USA 1961: Dir Blake Edwards)

Notes from my introduction to the film at Screen 25 on 15 February 2019.

It’s 5am on a Sunday morning, October 2nd 1960. A cab pulls up at the deserted junction of 5th Avenue and 57th Street in Manhattan, disgorging a woman, dressed in a black Givenchy evening dress and wearing huge sunglasses, who totters up to the window display of the famous Tiffany’s jewellery store and gazes on its contents while drinking coffee and eating a Danish pastry. This was scene one on the first day of shooting Breakfast at Tiffany’s and it’s arguably one of cinema’s most iconic openings.

On that first day it was reported that the star, Audrey Hepburn, was incredibly nervous, as evidenced by a pile of stubbed out cigarettes seen on set, her state of mind not helped by arriving in Manhattan fresh from her very quiet mountaintop home in Switzerland, where she had lived since 1953 with her bullying husband, Mel Ferrer, called “the frog faced delinquent with the spindly legs,” by Audrey’s mother, with whom no love was lost. Audrey had also recently become a mother herself; the separation from her 10-month-old son, coupled with Ferrer’s feelings that his wife should be a mother first and an actress second, made her anxieties on this first day of shooting quite understandable.

Most people will know that Breakfast at Tiffany’s is based on the novella by Truman Capote, published in 1958, and that the inspiration for its subject, Holly Golightly, was as much his mother as it was a conflation of a number of society figures who flocked round the author at parties and openings. Each one of Capote’s ‘swans,’ as the women were later referred to, thought that Ms Golightly was modelled on her, and to some extent they were all right.

In casting Holly Golightly Capote - who subsequently took a deal that would remove him from any further influence in the adaptation - wanted Marilyn Monroe to play the part, which would of course have put a very different slant on the movie. The story goes that it was the fear of budget and shooting overruns that affected the decision not to cast her (Marilyn had a reputation for lateness and an inherent difficulty in remembering her lines), but it may also have been because of the spectre of the Motion Picture Association’s dreaded Production Code. This was, after all, an adaptation of a story about a prostitute, a woman who clearly slept with men for money, or to use Capote’s words, an ‘American geisha.’ The movie’s producers, Martin Jurow and Richard Shepherd were therefore on the lookout to cast someone who, while still playing an ‘escort,’ could inject a level of innocence to counteract the more risqué elements of the story.

Audrey Hepburn was about as far away from Marilyn Monroe as you could get. She was actually 31 at the start of filming – playing a character who in the novella was around 18 or 19. Since being ‘discovered’ 10 years previously – by the author Colette of all people, who chose her for the lead role in the stage play of Gigi - over the next ten years Hepburn’s star inexorably ascended. She was the right face at the right time, the fifties being the decade when ‘teenagers’ started to be a thing. Up until then the screen role models for girls had either been someone like Doris Day or, at the other end of the scale, Monroe. Hepburn was someone that female cinema-goers of all ages could relate to, someone independent yet stylish, but down to earth.

But when the producers approached Hepburn for Tiffany’s she was very unsure, both about the character she’d be playing, and the range of acting required; previous roles in Roman Holiday, Sabrina and Funny Face hadn’t exactly stretched her repertoire, and the script for Breakfast at Tiffany’s required her to laugh, cry and sing!

Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn) in the opening scene of
Breakfast at Tiffany's

An understandably twitchy Hepburn made it a condition for accepting the role that some of the dialogue was watered down – it was Hepburn’s idea, for example, to change the lines about being paid fifty dollars for services rendered in the ladies room to the more innocuous ‘powder room’ – and the normally stubborn screenwriter George Axelrod happily obliged these changes to keep their star sweet.

Hepburn’s influence also came to bear in the choice of director. John Frankenheimer was first mentioned but she vetoed that. Many other names entered the frame - and exited quickly - until George Shepherd suggested Blake Edwards who had, up until that moment, mostly directed TV and frothy comedies; his last movie had been High Times, featuring a 57-year-old Bing Crosby dancing in a pink skirt. Although he was an outside choice he had successfully directed a big star in a movie – Cary Grant in Operation Petticoat - which gave the producers, who thought that Hepburn would require some solid direction, the confidence that he was the man for the job.

Edwards also brought on board his go to composer Henry Mancini, whose increasing move away from classic film orchestration to more jazzy themes was perfect for the film – the score is one of Tiffany’s strongest elements. Blake also cast his mate Mickey Rooney in the part of Mr Yunioshi, but the less said about that the better – if you’ve seen the film you’ll know exactly what I mean, if you haven’t then I’ll apologise now.

Reflecting later on in her career, Hepburn concluded that Breakfast at Tiffany’s was the best thing she’d ever done because it was the hardest. But she couldn’t have predicted how prescient her performance was. When we look back now we can see that Breakfast at Tiffany’s acts as a kind of shorthand for what was happening in New York at the time, and particularly for females. It’s one of the first Hollywood films to show a strong, independent woman successful at what she’s doing and - mostly - in charge of herself. Around the time the film was released, Joan Didion neatly summarised Golightly’s character when she wrote that New York City had become the natural home for “girls who want to prolong the period when they can experiment, mess around, make mistakes. In New York there is no gentle pressure for them to marry.” Change was definitely in the air.

You can access the full programme at Screen 25 and find out about ticket options here.

Outlaws (Australia 2017: Dir Stephen McCallum)

Despite the rather unpleasant characters and violent setups in Stephen McCallum's debut feature film, Outlaws (original title One Per Cent) is a surprisingly conservative gang movie about loyalty and rivalry (what else?) in the wild lands of Australia.

Mark aka Paddo (Ryan Corr) is 'Vice President' of a motorcycle gang called Copperheads (all the members have their name and job title on their jackets, which probably comes in handy at staff conferences) who, when we first meet him, is trying to save the skin of his mentally incapacitated brother, Adam aka Skink (Josh McConville). Skink has been set up to diddle a rival gang out of a stash of heroin, and they are justifiably annoyed. But Mark thinks he can save the day - and his brother - and maybe rise in the ranks a little, by negotiating a deal with them. The only problem is that Copperheads' president Knuck (Matt Nable) is just about to get out of a three year prison term, probably won't agree to any deal he hasn't brokered, doesn't do deals with anyone anyway, and is still very much in charge.

Knuck's girlfriend Hayley (Simone Kessell) just wants him to get home and settle back into being boss again, but Mark's girlfriend Katrina (Abbey Lee), has other ideas, willing her boyfriend to take over the operation by stealth or murder, whichever's quicker. It's a tense situation all right, as the gang begin to turn on themselves, and everyone is asked to pick a side.

Sons of Anarchy meets Macbeth, claims the movie's admats, but Outlaws doesn't really offer anything new or indeed as satisfying, with its bickering gang members, gritty locations and generally pallid sense of lawlessness. Ryan Corr looks a little too squeaky clean to be a gang member, as does his scheming partner, Abbey Lee. Matt Nable and Simone Kessell look more the part, Nable in particular a snarling bundle of anger that seems hell bent on starting one fight after another. Knuck is all about power - an interesting if exploitative character angle has him sodomising his opponents to assert his absolute authority (including his accountant - giving a whole new meaning to the phrase double entry book-keeping), never being at home to the fact that he might be gay. As Skink Josh McConville only seems to exist to do stupid things which give the plot the chance to advance, making it difficult to sympathise with this rather pathetic individual.

As an example of Ozploitation, Outlaws, while never less than watchable, is incredibly tame against the likes of say, Snowtown (2011) or Killing Ground (2016). The camera often looks away from the violence, which would make sense if the director wanted to focus more on the drama. But the drama here is constructed around characters that are both thinly drawn and profoundly unsympathetic. It scores points for a great and very tough soundtrack which sadly only reminds the audience that what they're watching, while not exactly pleasant, is no way near as gruelling as possibly Stephen Mccallum wanted it to be.

Dark Eyes Retrovision #7 - The Unholy (USA 1988: Dir Camilo Vila)

According to Camilo Vila, in the commentary on Vestron's Blu Ray reissue of his third feature The Unholy, the director didn't set out to make a horror film; he was hoping more for a 'whodunit' with supernatural overtones. Special effects maestro Jerry Macaluso, whose make up and model work on the film were almost completely excised from the final print by the producers in favour of Bob Keen's FX, would have it differently. Yep, this one has all the hallmarks of the troubled production, a quintessentially 80s movie best watched these days for its curiosity value.

The Unholy opens with the murder of a priest - via a vigorous throat ripping - by a mysterious, beautiful (and naked) woman; the original idea was to have kept the identity of the murderer a secret, setting up the movie's cast of characters as suspects. Cut to three years later and a new priest is appointed to the church, which was closed following the killing. He is Father Michael (Ben Cross). If the new incumbent acts a little stiff, it may be because he was recently thrown out of an apartment window after being attacked by a mysterious being, miraculously escaping with little more than cuts and bruises. Teaming up with waitress Millie (Jill Carroll) Father Michael, as well as building up his congregation, investigates the murder of the priest (and previous similar ecclesiastical slayings). What he uncovers is a web of concealment and demonic activity; he faces a race against time to combat the demon responsible for the deaths, before he and Millie can be added to the body count.

The Unholy wears its influences on its sleeve rather publicly. Its religious themes plunder both The Exorcist and The Omen, but its effects work references any number of rubber monster features from the 1980s. And on that subject Bob Keen's creature suit stuff, complete with kids dressed in mini demon costumes, has all the quality you'd expect from a unit drafted in at the last minute to replace the admittedly not very good effects work of then new kid on the block Macaluso (only one small shot of his monster remains, just as Father Michael is about to be hurled from the apartment window).

The movie includes some heavy hitters in the cast department, which helps to make a fairly lacklustre production just that little bit more gripping. Hal Holbrook and Ned Beatty, respectively a priest and a cop, add a welcome gravitas to the procedural elements of the movie, even if they do sit around chatting for most of their scenes. And veteran Trevor Howard, in his last acting role, is a game sort, his role as blind Father Silva - a guy who clearly knows far more about what's going on than anyone else - requiring him to wear some pretty uncomfortable looking opaque contact lenses.

Ben Cross, on the other hand, an actor who confesses in the extras that he was only in the movie because he was mates with Vila and the casting director, pretty much sleepwalks through the film, even allowing for his return from the dead status. He may, as he confesses, have had a lot of fun making the movie, but it sure doesn't translate to the viewing experience.

And finally a word about the demonic killer, played by Nicole Fortier. My guess is that someone saw Mathilda May in 1985's Lifeforce and decided that the demon would be extra demonic if she were nude, but at least had the decency to add a sheer nightie for reasons of taste, a kindness tot extended to Ms May. Fortier's second and final credit (she was also in the 1987 cobblers Scared Stiff), she and her amazing cheekbones never appeared in a movie again.

The Unholy is released as part of the Vestron Collector's Series on 25th February 2019.

The Blu ray/DVD combo features a number of special features, including a fairly honest audio commentary with Camilo Vila, interviews with composer Roger Bellon, production designer & co-writer Fernando Fonseca, Ben Cross, and a short mini feature on the abandoned creature work produced by Jerry Macaluso, 'Demons in the Flesh: The Monsters of The Unholy.'