Screenwriter and director Hanna Bergholm’s new short film fuses elements of horror and fantasy with dance, puppetry and animation, creating an emotive, dark piece that pulls all the right strings.
A lonely woman, longing for human contact, meets a strange man who reveals to her a dark and twisted secret passion. Pleased to have found companionship, she allows him to turn her into a puppet, and at first he is completely enamoured by his latest creation. Soon, however, he grows bored, and she will go to great lengths to ensure that his attentions do not stray from her.
There is a wonderful artistry behind this film; the life size puppet and the miniature doll-like models that appear throughout the film are incredibly intricate and beautifully made. The film is mysterious, alluring and awe-inspiring, and it comments cleverly on the power struggle in relationships and the way in which that power switches from person to person. It’s a dark portrayal of relationships, and there is a vision behind it that makes it stand out.
The absence of dialogue in this film works to its advantage, allowing us to completely focus on the aesthetics and the ballet-like movement of the characters and the puppets. The wonderful puppeteering is done by lead actress Merja Poyhonen, who succeeds in bringing this object to life and conveying a story through it. The movement is expressive, and delivers the emotion and story just as well as any dialogue would.
Puppet Master may be founded on metaphor and fantasy, but it is not so abstract that its meaning is lost on the viewer, and that’s what gives it it’s edge. It’s a simple, recognisable aspect of human life, but explored in an original way. It’s rare that a film combines as many elements of medium, and it meets that challenge greatly.
My immediate thoughts with regards to A Trip to the Moon are subtle disappointment that it isn’t the 1902 Georges Méliès short inspired by the work of Jules Verne. I have an admission to make, and it’s a little embarrassing considering I have the audacity to call myself a film fan, but I’ve never seen it, and when I was sent the link I thought, “Hey! Here’s an opportunity to finally watch this movie!” Not that I really need an excuse, the film is nine minutes long and in the public domain, so… probably shouldn’t be so lazy.
Anyway, the point is; I was wrong. It isn’t the 1902 movie, but rather a 2017 Argentinian comedy-drama directed by first time director Joaquin Cambre, that tells the story of young outcast, Tomas, who, feeling trapped by his life, his family, and his school work, plans to literally take a trip to the moon. If that sounds a little bonkers it’s because… well, yeah, it is!
So, the film starts off kind of slow, with little inkling as to where this is all going. Personally, I was unaware of the synopsis or even really what the film was because I hit play (hence my confusion over the fact that it wasn’t that other movie) so I was sort of cautious about it. It reminded me of the sort of mellow calm we see from films like Little Miss Sunshine or the work of Alexander Payne, whereby characters sort of just do their thing, and although we can see that something is quite right in their relationships, it’s almost like watching real life slowly unfold.
But A Trip to the Moon has more up its sleeve than that… sort of.
This opening third of the film is beautifully shot and wonderfully performed. Argentina makes for a wonderful backdrop, and Cambre shoots it assuredly and with confidence. Things slowly unfold and we learn about the characters and their struggles in a way that feels well crafted. It’s a good piece of filmmaking and, if it weren’t for the fact that it’s so similar to countless other coming-of-agers that I’ve seen over the years, it would be fine.
Unfortunately, the film begins to come apart at around the same time it starts to separate itself from the crowd. Tomas’ desperation to escape (with escapism being a key theme of the film) begins to take a darker turn when he stops taking his medication in favour of focusing on his project. As a result the lines between reality and fantasy begin to blur, and while the film realises this in a series of interesting and somewhat engaging ways, the fact that it’s never made clear just what young Tomas’ condition is, nor what the real side-effects of it are, outside of, presumably, hallucination, it’s hard to get to grips with just what it all really means.
Perhaps it’s because of the lack of clarity that it feels as though the film almost downplays Tomas’ illness despite also trying to present it as a series condition. The film feels muddled here, unsure of what balance it’s supposed to strike, as though someone had a great idea but didn’t stop to think it through, make it work or inject logic into it.
The blurred line between the real world and the fantasy world Tomas creates isn’t as carefully crafted as any of the character stuff that comes during that assured, but quiet first third, and so the film rather disappointingly falls flat, failing to live up to the promise set at the beginning.
An extended sequence that involves the titular trip to the moon winds up becoming almost superfluous, which is quite bizarre considering it’s where the movie literally derives its title from. Characters begins to act out of line with their previously established personality, and certain moments actually feel more unsettling than they do anything else.
Visually the film is gorgeous, and there is absolutely no doubt that Cambre is a talented filmmaker. He makes great use of colours, landscapes, locations and lighting, and even does some downright interesting and clever stuff that really does grip and engage. Unfortunately, it’s the script that ultimately lets it all down. Unable to come up with a satisfying conclusion to all these grand and rather bizarre ideas the film has presented us with.
The ending winds up coming off more anti-climactic than it does anything else, and so what ultimately emerges is a film that is pretty to look at and has some genuinely sweet and thought-provoking moments, but fails to become more than the sum of its parts and can’t quite decide what it wants to say, or what it wants to be. When all is said and done, I can’t honestly say I’d recommend it when, truthfully, there are better examples of this kind of idea elsewhere, but I wouldn’t label it a total write-off either, with Cambre definitely being someone to keep an eye on.
Still, maybe Georges Méliès short is the safer bet this time round.
Mariama Diallo’s genre-bending horror/comedy ‘Hair Wolf’ triumphs in it’s quirky, absurdist take on issues of gentrification and cultural appropriation. Diallo has created a beautifully formed, hilarious and frightening comment on matters that are intrinsic in today’s society. In Hair Wolf, ‘white girl’ instagram culture takes on the form of a walking-dead-esque virus… white people being thirsty not for blood but for a taste of black culture, and they will infect anyone they come into contact with.
When zombie-like caricature of today’s American ‘white girl’ (played by Beach Rats’ Madeline Weinstein) invades a Crown Heights black hair salon and asks for ‘Braiiiids’, the salon owner Janice (Trae Harris) warily allows her in. Slowly, one by one, they begin to fall under a hypnotic spell, relying only on one another to snap them back to reality and remind each other what makes them who they are.
Weinstein plays the cliche of an ‘Instagram ho’ brilliantly, mindlessly saying incredibly offensive things without even realising it. Jermaine Crawford and Trae Harris also execute their comic delivery of his amusing lines. The real stars of the show, however, are Taliah Webster and Kara Young, who play two hairdressers, terrified of the ‘white girl’ taking away ‘everything we got except the skin off our backs.’
https://vimeo.com/246720217
Everything blends together perfectly, from the bright coloured, shimmering costumes, to the wacky hairstyles and sci-fi makeup. With all these pieces fitted together, we are left with something reminiscent of a 70’s music video. This world feels just outside the realm of reality, just uncanny enough that the bizarre events seem hilariously plausible, without the film ever becoming ludicrous.
This film is funny, intelligent, thought provoking and feels incredibly significant. We saw these themes approached in Jordan Peele’s ‘Get Out’, which teetered on that same line between horror and comedy, but Hair Wolf provides us with a new perspective, focusing particularly on the Instagram generation. The visuals are dazzling and the acting is perfectly executed, keeping us amused whilst also delivering a poignant message. It really is too good to miss.
Irish filmmaker Kate Dolan challenges gender stereotypes and the ‘revenge film’ formula with her new horror short Catcalls. Based on her own experience when a man exposed himself to her and a friend as they walked home alone at night, Dolan channels the anger she felt at being made to feel unsafe in her own town, and acts out the perfect artistic retribution. Catcalls takes all too familiar female experiences and feelings, and creates something original and progressive.
The film opens with a man (Martin O’Sullivan) drives around at night, stalking the streets and looking for cheap thrills. He comes across two young women walking home together in a remote area and stops to ask them directions. They willingly oblige, only to see to their horror that he is masturbating. They are appalled, but powerless, as he zooms away into the night, unscathed by and unpunished for his hideous actions. Arriving home to his wife (Sarah Kinlen), he is alarmed when one of the girls turns up at his house and asks his wife for help. His world begins to unravel as the two sides of his double life are brought to heads. Slowly but surely it dawns on him that he may have picked the wrong girls to heckle, and the predator has become the prey.
The female leads are played with understated assertiveness by Cesca Saunders and Edel Murphy, while O’Sullivan brilliantly displays an unexpected vulnerability when he is finally faced with the consequences of his exploitative behaviour, which provides a rare and affecting take on this subject matter.
Accompanied by beautiful camerawork, Catcalls gets the tension level just right. The knowledge that something is lurking in the shadows never falters, and it is impossible to avert your eyes, right up to the brilliant final shot. This is an intelligent and unconventional take on female victimisation and will especially appeal to those who have been made to feel unsafe in their own towns. Dolan has certainly earned a place as one to watch.
Holiday is a slow burning slice of life drama about a young girl named Sascha (Victoria Carmen Sonne) whose decisions in her life increasingly take a turn for the worst. Sascha’s boyfriend Michael (Lai Yde) is a crime lord who is in the drug trade business but as the film is told from her point of view, the gritty and gratuitously violent side of his life is rarely shown. Because of this, Sascha remains relatively innocent and untouched by the darker side of her boyfriend’s career so she wafts through life without a care in a world as she parties and her boyfriend buys her nice, expensive things. However, when she meets Thomas (Thijs Römer) she starts to realise that her life may not be all that she wanted it to be.
For those who are expecting a film
with high drama, lots of exposition and plot they may be left a little
disappointed as director Isabella Eklöf’s approach sets out to show Sascha’s
life as if the audience is a fly on the wall, observing a lifestyle which is
gradually turning sour. The tension is slowly built and before the audience
realises it, they are spectators to some very disturbing and realistic scenes
of abuse. Both emotional and physical.
Make no mistake, Holiday is not a high concept action thriller with a compelling love story where love conquers against all the odds. Although for those more hopeful and romantic members of the audience, you may wish that it was.
Sonne puts in a great performance as
the innocent and happy go lucky Sascha, she is a warm character who the
audience will like and probably wish better for her. Sonne’s performance guides
the audience quite carefully down that road, even to the point where there
seems like there is no hope but I believe that is exactly what the story wants
its audience to think, it could even be that the audience is led as easily as
Sascha. Yde is equally as good but in a very different way, he manages to
capture the kind of abusive, domineering man who might find a girl like Sascha
so appealing but his performance never veers into parody and stereotype, staying
all too real and convincing.
For those who may start off bored by
the seemingly directionless plot, by the end they may find themselves sitting
forward in their seats, unable to look away as the events of the film grow more
uncomfortable every minute. The escalating drama slowly puts its grip on the
audience like a noose and leaves them wondering what would lead Sascha to do
what she does. This leaves the audience perhaps with more questions than
answers but if everything was wrapped up in a nice little bow then it would be
a far more predictable and forgettable story.
