Author: Jack Ford

Smoke And Mirrors: The Story Of Tom Savini – Review

Cult icon Tom Savini is a man who defies definition. He is a talented character actor, accomplished director and prolific stunt performer, but he would be known best for his make-up effects which most famously appeared in Dawn of the Dead and Friday the 13^th, among many others.

His work in the effects field made Savini a cult personality and a key person of the modern horror era of the seventies. Smoke and Mirrors: The Story of Tom Savini, a documentary which chronicles his life and work directed by Jason Baker, shows us through old clips and interviews with collaborators, fans and even the man himself how he helped to shape this period in American horror.

A particularly effective demonstration seen in the film is a time-lapse seen in the film of him putting together a practical make-up for Friday the 13^th: The Final Chapter, one that an actor can wear in the scene which also bleed profusely when stabbed. It’s a prime example of Savini’s resourcefulness and inventiveness that made him standout in the effects world.

That said, while Savini’s is a life worth documenting, Smoke and Mirrors feels more like a film school project than a full professional product. The audio levels are constantly changing, some visuals feel like Windows Movie Maker effects and some talking heads are in fact red carpet interviews.

What makes the documentary work though is Savini himself. Hearing him speak, he is clearly hugely passionate about his work and life, yet his is not arrogant when speaking about himself. He is congenial and honest assessing pivotal moments in his life, such as serving in Vietnam where, apart from one incident where he raised the alarm over a bird, left him shaken and distant. After coming home he sought solace in local theatre, where he performed and also learned the make-up effects that would make his name.

About half of Smoke and Mirrors is about Savini’s work, the rest given over to his personal life. He has plenty of mementos from over the years, photos and home movies which make for an extensive illustration of his life. While some of these stories are clearly important to the man himself and others amusing, such as reconnecting with his long-lost daughter who turned out to be a fan of his, they have less relevance to an audience as those about his professional life. The final part seems like an extended plug for Savini’s make-up and effects school.

It’s more interesting hearing from Savini about his frustrations and disappointment over how his version of Night of the Living Dead ended up not being the film he wanted to make. Or a demonstration of an impressive but little-seen disappearing effect from a stage version of Dracula. And some interviews with long-time collaborator George Romero (RIP), Alice Cooper and Robert Rodriguez, who talks of his surprise of receiving an audition tape from Savini for From Dusk Til Dawn, but cast him because of his performance and not out of reverence.

Smoke and Mirrors has some worthwhile moments, especially for those with little to no knowledge of Savini, it does well to show why he is so revered in the genre. However it could have been a more polished product, as well as being more concise and focused, rather than trying to cover too much of his life. As is it remains a good primer on the man, but it could have gone deeper.

7th October 2021
Yakuza Princess: Review

During one of Yazkua Princess’s many vague conversations, lead character Akemi (played by Masumi) exclaims “Why are you all being so secretive?” It is one of the more prescient lines in the film, which poses many mysteries and keeps the answers from its characters and observers for as long as it can. Some of them go unanswered, in part to seemingly heighten the drama but mostly in an effort to kick-start a franchise.

To be fair there are some genuinely unexpected twists and turns that are well-constructed that pique interest just when it wanes. They are just not enough to justify keeping everyone in the dark the entire time, instead drip-feeding faint explanations as the story progresses. Nor is what revealed deep enough to merit any installments beyond the first.

The film begins with Akemi’s earliest memory: surviving a massacre in Osaka where her entirely family was killed. The story then shifts forward two decades and she is living in “the world’s largest Japanese community” in Sao Paolo. Conveniently enough she has little memory of her life before Brazil, but more starts to come back to her when a mysterious katana sword comes into her possession.

A symbol on the handle matches one on a patch of her late grandfathers and wielding the sword seems to unlock some repressed memories for her. It’s clear the sword holds the key to the truth about not just her path, but that of the man who brought it to her.

Jonathan Rhys Myers, who previously stared his way through Ride with the Devil and The Tudors among others, plays to and against type at the same time in Yakuza Princess. He is first seen waking up bloodied and bandaged in a Sao Paolo hospital, with no memory of who he is or how he got there. He sets out to find out who he is, his only clue being the sword, all that he was found with.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poBN2xJNN48

Like the guns in some notable westerns, the sword here feels almost like a character in itself. Known as the Muramasa, the sword is treated with reverence by those in the know and they are happy to tell all about its legend. That it is supposedly cursed, with the souls of those it has killed trapped inside. With this level of detail it has as much back story and development as any of the human characters in Yakuza Princess.

Why does he have the sword? How does this connect him and Akemi? It’s an intriguing line to follow, but as soon as he and Akemi are finally brought together, shots are fired at them by Yakuza hitman Takeshi (Tsuyoshi Ihara), which prompts the two to go on the run. This sets them both on courses to learn the truth, he to to recover his missing identity, Akemi to learn what really happened to her family.

She is determined to know what is happening and it would in fact be a big help for someone who knows more to explain why, but that would be too convenient. She goes to her sensei for help, but he tells her this is something she has to do on her own. She seeks out some nomads who may be in the know, but their explanations shed no light on the situation, which leads to Akemi uttering the memorable above line.

Meanwhile, Rhys Myers fades into the background, brooding, becoming something of a comic foil and having his presence in the film drawn more and more into question.

In addition to the varying levels of interest in each character arc, the Yakuza element, an important part in the events of Yakuza Princess, in the end it is only really half-explained. Its hinted that the film makers feel a sequel would be necessary to further explain the criminal’s interest in events.

This points to one of the film’s biggest problems: its pacing. Its more than a third of the way in when the story actually gets going and even then it doesn’t seem in a hurry to address or resolve its plot. Then when it comes time to wrap everything up, it just ends. Of the many reasons to make a sequel, using it to explain all the plot holes of the first should not be one.

Director Vicente Amorim and co-screenwriters Fernando Toste and Kimi Lee, adapting from Danilo Beyruth’s comic series Samurai Shiro, could have tried harder to create more interest in their characters. In the end, however, this defaults into a journey that has been taken many times before, and more interestingly; by the leads in Lady Snowblood, Harry Potter, even Kung Fu Panda.

There is a much better film somewhere in Yakuza Princess, one that is remembered by its specific details rather than the formulas it falls into. Those in an undiscerning mood might get something out of it, but it could have been more had it been less generic and used its time to better explain itself, instead of making us have to wait for a (potential) sequel to see the whole story.

5th September 2021
Hiruko The Goblin 30th Anniversary: Review

With a pale-faced supernatural villain and school children as protagonists, Hiruko the Goblin is an unmistakable piece of Japanese horror. Now fully restored and showing as part of the 2021 Japan Cuts Festival, this early effort from prolific director Shinya Tsukamoto may stick too close to formula for some and too unnerving to win over those who eschew horror, but what it does offer is well executed enough to satisfy fans of the genre.

As well as the very many familiar tropes of the country’s monster cinema, there are clear nods to western horror along the way. Tsukamoto utilises the POV shot a la An American Werewolf in London and the long tracking shots made famous by The Evil Dead, as well as making visible nods to The Thing and A Nightmare on Elm Street as well. It is clearly well-versed in the genre, both internally and from outside of its own borders.

Hiruko the Goblin follows two central characters. Firstly Reijirou Hieda (Kenji Sawada), an archaeologist discredited for voicing his opinion that mythical creatures, including goblins, may be real. A laughing stock exiled from the scientific community, that all could change for him when he receives a letter from his brother-in-law informing him of the discovery of an ancient tomb that may in fact finally prove his fantastical views right.

Hieda heads back to his hometown, the site of this tomb’s discovery, in hope of finding any such goblin and clear his name. It is there he comes across his nephew, Masao (Masaki Kudou), who along with friends are there investigating the mysterious disappearance of his father and a fellow student, Reiko (Megumi Ueno).

While his uncle is looking for the apparent goblin, a belief Masao does not share, the youngster is looking in the same place for Reiko, for reasons heavily implied. Reiko’s repeated appearances in which she lures Masao to her through song at first make him believe she is alive and nearby, but after seeing a few too many unusual sights he starts to believe something more is going on.

It’s something almost every audience member will be able to see coming, even if the film wants us to think otherwise by having Masao go full Dana Scully on the matter: it turns out there is a goblin and it’s on a hunt for humans. It’s also not hard to see, as it starts to pick off minor characters one by one, who will be left to vanquish this monster.

A spider-like creature with a bleached-white human face, the eponymous monster makes for a creepy presence but is not used for any particularly scary moments. Brought to life through use of animatronics and stop-motion animation, it is best used when skittering across the floor at high speeds or suddenly appearing in the corner of shots, behind our unsuspecting heroes.

The plot is somewhat convoluted, though doesn’t have to be too closely followed as it can be understood at base level. It turns out they cannot stop this goblin through conventional means, which makes the final act more compelling, in addition to showcasing some of the film’s more memorable images. The main thread to pay close attention to is the matter of Masao’s ancestry, as it goes a long way in explaining why burns start appearing on his back in the forms of Hiruko’s victims.

It would be fair to say some of the effects here are very of their time, but the film’s intricate and caring restoration makes it possible to see past some dated graphics and for a well-made genre film. The photography smooth and crisp once more, the somewhat creaky CGI that is used here is now the only thing that gives away this is a product of some years.

Back in its day, Hiruko the Goblin was Tsukamoto’s follow-up to his cult cyberpunk film Testuo: The Iron Man. While that film is credited with bringing new aesthetics and viewpoints to the independent film scene of Japan, his horror successor did not meet as much praise on the same points – and for good reason. There was far more territory Hiruko the Goblin could have been explored but instead it doesn’t do much to innovate and sticks more to the established conventions.

That said, it makes the most of sitting inside horror conventions and serves as a clear and present precursor to films like The Ring and The Grudge. J-horror fans will get the most out of it and while there have been far more effective and memorable horror films to come out of Japan, Hiruko the Goblin is far from the worst.

24th August 2021
The 12 Day Tale Of The Monster That Died In 8: Review

What did you do during the coronavirus pandemic? A lot of us waited it out by watching every streaming show known to man or finally get around to reading those books you kept putting off getting around to. A band of special effects artists from Japan, under the stewardship of director Shunji Iwai, decided to pass the time by making a film. The result is The 12 Day Tale of the Monster Who Died in 8, a take on the traditional Kaiju film for a very different time.

This film was shot entirely during the first wave of the pandemic, indeed the opening shots show near-empty Tokyo streets with announcements over loudspeakers informing people to avoid unnecessary outings. Unable to continue working in their full capacity, the film’s subjects connect via Zoom meetings and in doing so were able to piece together all the clips needed for the finished product.

It is an admirable effort on behalf of its makers to not let lockdown time go to waste and to be so industrious with restrictions on them and limited tools at their disposal. While the film is not a total success, it does more than expected while always being open and honest about what its and trying to do.

Stuck in his apartment, Takumi Saitoh (playing himself) communicates with his friends and co-workers about their disappointment and uncertainty of the global situation, as well as everyday mundanities like cooking and moving house. The main thread is Saitoh procuring some monster seeds with which to grow a so-called ‘Capsule Monster’ which could save the world from its current predicament.

Speaking to camera, Saitoh keeps the audience updated on the progress of his monster’s growth. With events increasingly restricted almost entirely to this subject matter, the film starts to feel more and more samey as it goes on. For audiences outside of Japan it may also become a bit confusing, as many references are dropped to pop culture little known outside the country, in particular Japanese cultural touchstone Ultra Seven.

He also shares his monster’s progress with his ‘director’, Shinji Higuchi (also playing himself, also the film’s co-writer), which isn’t as amusing or interesting as his conversations with actor Rena Nonen (As herself). She tells him she has adopted an alien, which can not be seen on camera, which makes for the most amusing diversion as she tells of their escapades together, including plans to visit the invisible alien’s home planet.

While sluggish and scattershot at times, the narrative starts to gain steam when Saitoh starts to believe his monster is growing into an uncontrollable enemy rather than the avenging hero he wants it to be. This causes him to make a decision that leads to the brilliantly clever ending, where monster does turn into something that can save the world – but not what you would expect it to be.

Some may very well lose patience with it before getting that far, but it is the film’s conclusion that makes it worthwhile. Though it may not be an ending everyone will agree with it has an important final message which, regardless what anyone says, is right. If there ever was a time to see The 12 Day Tale of the Monster Who Died in 8, it would be now.

20th August 2021
The Best Short Films To See At Fantasia Fest 2021

Short films are shocking by nature. With a running time of only a few minutes, they need to make an immediate and lasting impression on audiences in order to stick in viewers minds and give the film and its makers longevity. This is something we have come to expect from the format, but not all need to be like this. Some succeed by showcasing succinct storytelling skills or a high level of art.

The wide selection of shorts shown at the 2021 Fantasia Festival have many examples of such films with their share of sensationalist content. However, there are two stand outs that contain what some may see as shock value, but are not memorable for their more salacious elements. They are just well-made, professional productions.

The French-Belgian co-production Hold Me Tight, directed by Mélanie Robert-Tourneur, could be seen to some as sensational, but others would find it a beautifully drawn, unique interpretation of the traditional human romance story. The film substitutes more familiar forms of communication and interaction with a more animalistic aspect to show how love and desire – the feelings and acts of each – within reason are not to be thought of as poor shows of character. They are in fact natural.

By use of its exemplary artwork, which is reason enough alone to see it, the film seems to make a stark comment on changing attitudes towards sex. The use of many different animal and plant imagery show us how something which has been taboo for so many for so long is in fact a part of nature. Hold Me Tight is open to interpretation and may be viewed in a completely different way by each audience member.

Conversely, Nicole Bazuin’s Last Night at the Strip Club is neither fiction nor animation, but a true-life story from author and exotic performer Andrea Werhun. Whereas this one could have also been fuelled by provocation in order to attract attention, instead it is a far more thoughtful and engaging short.

When working as a stripper in Toronto when the coronavirus pandemic hit, Werhun at first felt uncomfortable there when her club was slow to close down, but when it did found herself thrown into doubt for what it meant for her livelihood. Her line of work is hard to do when not in person, or as she puts it, “How am I supposed to give a guy a lap dance when I can’t even shake his hand?”

Down-to-earth, funny, open and honest about what she thinks and feels as well as highly articulate and expressive, Werhun offers amusing and interesting insights to her line of work and is uninhibited when detailing the personalised services she now offers, no longer able to work in person any more. This ranges from sending standard nudes to more imaginative fare, such as reading Dr Seuss books topless. She also re-creates the last interaction she had with a club patron, playing both parts.

Most illuminating about the film is how it challenges the stigma of what sex industry workers do. It is an assumption Werhun had before entering the industry herself, but quickly found the girls who work in strip clubs wanting to be there. (Of course it should be noted that is not a universal truth.) She seems happy with her life and unashamed of what she does, while also giving us a brief insight into what the men who visit her are really like and what they are looking for. That may be obvious to some, but its surprising to see how sincerely it is portrayed.

It is through superior storytelling, unique premises and a high level of craft that makes these two films stand out in a crowded, hard-to-navigate space that is short film. Their many merits make both Hold Me Tight and Last Night at the Strip Club worth seeking out.

The Best Short Films To See At Fantasia Fest 2021

20th August 2021