Author: BRWC

Praise be to the dark lord that it’s better than Halloween II.

So far Rob Zombie’s directorial career has played out in two deranged parts. Part 1 was the exploitation gore fest of House of 1,000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects. They were violent and silly. I liked them. Then came his remake of Halloween and then came Halloween II. And they are shitty, shitty movies. I wanted to like them but they are shitty. Does his new work bring about Part 3 of his output – that we may call the historical/experimental double.

With The Lords of Salem, Zombie has created something much more personal and interesting to him. The film takes place in Salem, Massachusetts the scene of the US’s infamous witch trials. After an introduction which sees a group of cackling witches dance around (perhaps into) the fire we move quickly forward to now-a-time where we meet Heidi (played by Zombie’s muse and wide Sherri Moon Zombie). She works as a late night radio DJ where she is given a new black metal/doom track by a group who simply call themselves The Lords. When played the track has a hypnotic effect over Heidi and dozens of Salem women. Heidi begins to experience visions and hot flushes the likes of which haven’t been seen since Requiem for a Dream. Meanwhile Heidi’s troubling nice landlady (Judy Geeson) and her two sisters: Meg Foster and Patricia Quinn start to take a great interest in her. Let’s not quibble here. They’re witches and they want to make her a really powerful witch. All the while the always watchable and huggable Mr. Henderson… I mean Bruce Davison is on the trail of these here crafty witches.

With his first two films Zombie was paying homage to the schlocky, grindhouse horror of the 70s and 80s. The Lords of Salem feels like an attempt to amp up the psychological terrors. Zombie is reported as saying he imagined the film as The Shining directed by Ken Russell. Perhaps a closer description would be Rosemary’s Baby directed by Dario Argento. The visuals flip flop between the dingy, claustrophobic apartment bound to opulent and colourful. As a visual artist Zombie improves with each feature despite the obvious financial restrains of Salem. However Zombie the script writer still falls into the occasional trap where the story seems to meander as though. Almost like certain scenes were written in a hurry merely so he could get to writing the next set piece he had in his head. Which is the films main fault. Although given an intriguing set up, an interesting modern day turn and a classic haunted apartment device it’s hard to care for any of the characters involved and therefore find little to fear, expect for Bruce Davison.

Sherri Moon Zombie, like her husband, seems to mature with each film. Her performance is as diverse as with yet seen her as she just about manages to carry the film. Bruce Davison is Bruce Davison, therefore always awesome. Performance wise, for better or worse, belongs to the trio of Judy Geeson, Dee Wallace and Patricia Quinn. Either acting deliciously wicked or being horrendously over-the-top you can take your pick. Geeson’s appearance in particular calls to mind some similarities between Heidi’s predicament and Geeson’s character in Fear in the Night. Along the way there also cameos from Meg Foster (Evil Lynn!), Udo Kier and Ken Foree (yeah he was in Dawn of the Dead but he’ll always be Keenan’s Dad to me).

Zombie is definitely up his game when it comes to making the films he wants to make. Sadly he seems to have fallen into the Tarantino trap of being so busy referencing other movies that he has forgotten to make his own. It wasn’t that obvious to me whilst viewing the film but on reflection there are a litany of obvious influences. In fact one of the great pleasures of watching The Lords of Salem may be the fact that it reminds you of so many great films that you might want to dig out of your collection – at least eight spring to mind for me.

If you have enjoyed Zombies previous output you’ll probably find a lot to enjoy – there’s still gore just more suitably shown. There’s even a stupid little monster creature in it. What may separate the fans from the casual viewer is the the final 15 minutes. Which without giving too much away does turn into Zombies “Ken Russell” style – with a bit of Andy Warhol thrown in for good measure.

Stop the average man in the street and ask him to name the guy who did the special effects in Avatar, Avengers Assemble, The Hobbit or any other modern CGI-laden blockbuster and my guess is you’ll get a very blank look.  Ask him who did the special effects in Jason & the Argonauts and my guess is that you stand a good chance of being met with the answer: Ray Harryhausen.  Not only that but they’ll probably also be able to tell you the name of the technique with which he is inextricably linked: stop motion animation.  Almost certainly the most famous movie technician of all time, Harryhausen is a byword not just for a particular type of film but also for a bygone era of craftsmanship, quality and attention to detail.

In Ray Harryhausen: Special Effects Titan some of the biggest and most successful film-makers in history queue up to pay tribute Harryhausen’s work and the influence it has had on their own careers.  Told entirely by talking head interviews and Harryhausen’s own recollections, interspersed with clips from his work, the film is not so much an analysis of film craft – although it provides some fascinating insights into his mind-bogglingly painstaking method – as it is an expression of deep appreciation and affection for a remarkable individual.

I suppose the test of a good movie documentary is how well it answers two key questions: does it tell you anything you didn’t already know; and, does it make you want to go back and re-watch some of the movies in question.  I’d say the answer to both of those questions is most definitely yes.  For instance, I had no idea that The Valley of Gwangi was originally a Willis O’Brien project that had been started in the 1940s but was shelved because of the war.  You can tell Harryhausen is fond of it as he talks wistfully of how it was a box office flop when it eventually made it to the screen in 1969 because the idea of ‘cowboys vs. dinosaurs’ was twenty years out of date.  It’s well worth another look I reckon.

A great attraction of this documentary is the fabulous access it clearly had to Harryhausen’s personal treasure trove of stuff relating to his career.  It’s one thing to see the original model of Talos still looking impassively terrifying fifty years on; it’s quite another to see the models of creatures Harryhausen made before he even began his professional career.  We’re told that Harryhausen is quite particular about referring to his creations as “creatures” rather than “monsters” and I think that’s because he saw it as his artistic duty to imbue his models with personalities, identities, life itself.  And I also think it’s because he was so successful at achieving that goal that his creations are so memorable and, further, so fondly recalled, certainly by people of my generation.

There’s an interesting moment when James Cameron makes the claim that were Harryhausen still working today he’d be using CGI like mad because he’s want to use the best available tools to get his vision on to the screen.  In the very next shot, Harryhausen poo-poos this notion by saying he’d still use his models and stop motion.  I think this goes to the very heart of the central idea behind this documentary: that models, as used by Ray Harryhausen and those he influenced, are really more meaningful and connect better with the audience than CGI effects.  Even some of the interviewees, especially Dennis Muren, who worked on Jurassic Park among others, make this claim themselves, despite the fact that they work in that digital medium.

There has to be a reason why Harryhausen’s work has endured long beyond the point at which the methods he used ceased to be current and out of all proportion to the relative quality of the films themselves.  And I think this documentary ultimately comes to the view that it’s because Harryhausen was, in the final analysis, a magician:  using just simple tools and infinite patience he dreamed of the incredible and the impossible and brought them to life.

Heart broken Simon travels to Paris to be a douche-bag.

Sounds curt and dismissive but that pretty much sums up the second film from Antonio Campos. Simon (Brady Corbet) arrives in France, still reeling from his recent break up with his longtime girlfriend. Increasingly lonely in a foreign land he seeks shelter in a strip bar where he meets prostitute Victoria (Mati Diop). Seeing her as his only chance for some kind of affection he begins to see her more before getting himself assaulted so that she will take him in. The pair begin to fall in love. In order to get some income Simon decides that they should blackmail Victoria’s clients. After a brief spell of the “good life” Simon’s eye begins to wander and his frustration with the world begins to boil over.

Simon is a frustrating character to have to follow for ninety minutes. We meet him as a husk of a man following his split. Anyone who’s ever been through a bad break up can’t fail to identify with the hopeless loneliness that Corbet and Campos express. His duplicitous nature, sometimes lying for seemingly no reason and getting himself beat up so that he can emotionally blackmail his way into Victoria’s house are compelling character insights. Part you may think you’d do the same if you were desperate. As the story continues Simon’s action begin to worsen. Corbet’s performance doesn’t suddenly switch to crazy mode, but the character becomes more suitably despicable with every scene even if he doesn’t seem to realise it. Simon still thinks Simon’s a good guy, which truly makes him a sociopath. Whilst the character arc (or lack of) is fascinating in theory watching it unfold is much more irritating. Perhaps it falls down to Corbet’s performance. Simon comes across as such a frustrating weasel of a man that he becomes a chore to watch. Bravo for Campos and Corbet for creating a genuinely horrible character but it becomes a detriment to the film when you don’t want to be in that person’s company anymore. I don’t very often fell like that but I did watching Simon Killer.

Mati Diop turns in a finely understated performance as Victoria. A prostitute with an obviously cruel past who does not act the victim or seductress. She is a woman who knows how to read people. To give them what they want so she gets what she wants. Simon clearly sees her as a damsel in need of rescue, because he’s a good guy but at times she appears to be the one pulling his strings.

Some have compared Campos visual style to Michael Haneke. The camera keeps it’s distance – the tightest shots are mids. The screen often pans back and forth from events so you sometimes miss some of the action. It’s a cold, detached way of documenting Simon’s psychological collapse that at certain times borders on student film but it’s affect is noticeable  Even as the camera follows Simon through the streets of Paris we are kept at distance just enough to feel as though we are stalking him. It’s a cliched film critique to make, but sometimes you really do feel like a bystander watching events unfold in real life. Which is also thanks in part to the naturalistic style of the film. A nice touch worth mentioning is the use of music throughout. As most of the soundtrack is provided through the headphones Simon strolls around listening to, arbitrarily flicking tracks which instantly changes the mood of a scene. It’s a quirky yet realistic touch that should be used more often. It’s also a soundtrack I would like to own – not that you need to know that but writing it down will remind me to look for it.

So Simon Killer. A film that some will admire, some will loathe. It depends how much you enjoy character studies of unlikable people shot with a steely hand. It’s a film that I’m glad to have seen but could live the rest of my life without ever seeing again. It’s moments of real ingenuity are often spoiled by amateurish feeling staging and an anti-hero who’s frankly too irritating to give the slightest shit about. Maybe I’m the cruel one here.

Us Brits have always been known for dark comedy and this year’s Sightseers is about as pitch black, and as British, as they come. Written by its stars Alice Lowe and Steve Oram, the film is a murderous road trip through the finest attractions the North of England has to offer.

Chris (Oram) wants to show his new girlfriend Tina (Lowe) his favourite places on a caravanning trip of the North. Tina’s controlling mother makes it quite clear she doesn’t trust him, but then she doesn’t trust her own daughter since an accident with her pet dog and a knitting needle some years earlier. As it turns out, Tina’s mum is right to be cautious, as Chris has a particularly dark streak that is slowly revealed as their journey takes in such star attractions as Crich Tramway and the Keswick Pencil Museum.

When Chris witnesses a fellow tourist flout the littering rules on a antique tram, he becomes increasingly agitated. Later, while reversing his beloved caravan out of the car park he accidentally backs over the offending bloke, killing him instantly. It’s when we see Chris’ look of shock morph into a slim, wry smile that we know something isn’t quite right – it seems that Chris has a taste for blood, and the easily-led Tina is developing one too.

Sightseers is directed by Kill List’s Ben Wheatley – no stranger to dark scenes. There is a definite tonal similarity with that film, except for the flashes of jet black comedy. It also shares it’s scenery with Michael Winterbottom’s The Trip – beautifully stark mountains and misty moors. The laughs don’t come easily all the time – though a confrontation with a rambler at a stone circle is particularly funny – and the violence is quick yet nasty, meaning that Sightseers feels a pretty niche at times.

Its tone wavers a little throughout, but there’s no arguing that Sightseers is a unique proposition in a world increasingly full of remakes and adaptations. Showcasing some fantastic homegrown talent and a brave combination of comedy, brutal murder and the Northern countryside, it’s worth supporting.