I Think That's Illegal, Even In Amsterdam: Hostel (2005)

I am going to begin this post with a bold assertion.  Eli Roth is the David Mamet of horror films.  This would require some heavy defense were it a statement to suggest that Roth's works have the rapid fire impossibly on point dialogue of Mamet's works, but instead, suffer from the same sickeningly "post-feminist" belief that to be a male of well-to-do status means that you are in some notable way suffering and that the entirety of society, or the forces of nature are systematically working against their diminishing privilege.  Think about the absurdity of something like The Edge, wherein Anthony Hopkin's character must fight off bears and severe weather all because he had a foolish notion that he could tame the wilderness, never mind the overarching suggestion that he feels quite guilty about the killing of Native populations (in that he does not).  I want to suggest here that while far less keen with its dialogue, and decidedly less gripping than say Glengarry Glenn Ross, Eli Roth's Hostel wants to make viewers suffer and relate to a group of individuals who for all intents and purposes have not point of suffering aside from placing themselves into rather foolish situations.  Indeed, they are incredibly exploitative and perfect images of unchecked consumerism.  In fact, I want to extend my frustrations with this film a step further and suggest that this is a quantifiable reason to be concerned with providing a filmmaker like Quentin Tarantino unadulterated praise.  The producer of this film, Tarantino also suffers from his own problematic relationships with justifying white male privilege and, with the exception of Jackie Brown, his attempts to challenge this tradition often fall flat and become wildly ill-conceived.  It is only fitting that he would jump at an opportunity to produce this film, it is narratively in line with his own act of making the absurdly impossible suffering of the well-off seem palatable.  Hostel is not a good movie, it is not even really a decent movie.  It is not because of its choice of graphic material, it is actually surprisingly tame in this respect, but is purely frustrating because at no point does this violence or exploitative nature move into a realm of considerable social critique.  Hostel is a textbook example of everything that is wrong with contemporary horror films, precisely in the belief that a narrative deserves justification by existence alone.

Hostel focuses on a group of young men who have taken it upon themselves to backpack across Europe for no other apparent reason than to smoke a lot of pot and have as much sex as possible.  Paxton (Jay Hernandez) is the unofficial leader of the group, using his suave nature to help them navigate spaces, where as Josh (Derek Richardson) seems more inclined to simply passively move through the various spaces, spending much of his time in Amsterdam bemoaning an ex-girlfriend and starring at the scenery.  The duo also gains the friendship of the Icelandic wild man Oli (Eythor Gudjonsson) who helps them to gain access to spaces previously deemed inaccessible.  It is through Oli and the help of a Russian man named Alex (Lubomir Bukovy) that they are made aware of a hostel in Slovakia known for its libertine ways.  The three jump at the opportunity taking the very next train to the country.  On the way there they meet an unusually friendly gentleman with a penchant for eating with his hands, who also sings the praises of the town, before becoming a bit too intimate for Josh's liking.  Upon arrival the space is exactly as described, a veritable land of sex and drugs, wherein the trio immediately find women to hook up with in their very own room at the hostel.  However, after a night of drug use, Oli goes missing, leading to a quest to find him, one that reveals that the Slovakian town is a bit darker and less welcoming than initially believed.  Yet, it is not until Josh goes missing that Paxton truly becomes worried and when he is taken to an art show, by one of the women he had been sleeping with, he discovers a dark underbelly to the idyllic space, wherein individuals pay large sums of money for the ability to torture, then kill, living humans (Americans fetching a higher amount than other persons).  After being maimed via having a few fingers cut off, an accident on the part of the torturer affords Paxton a chance to escape, saving a fellow member of the Hostel in the process.  Using his masculine privilege he is able to escape the space and eventually make it to a train station, at which point the woman in tow realizes the damage done to her face, thus leading to her committing suicide on the tracks, incidentally not proving enough to stop the trains from running.  On this train, Paxton realizes a member of this torture group is present, leading to his killing the man before returning to the train for an assuredly long ride home.

One of the major elements of any survival horror film is the necessity of having a character for with which the viewer can empathize.  At times this can work on a very specified level, as is the case in the always problematic sub-genre of rape revenge horror films, such as I Spit On Your Grave or in cases the nature of the film affords many survivors of varied identities in the case of most zombie films.  In even rarer cases the nature of the filmmaking and the earnestness of the performance allow for a reliability to a hyper-specified identity as occurs with Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween.  I would argue that this really does not work for Hostel, because the characters created by Eli Roth are merely extensions of Eli Roth, or the very selective set of filmmakers who seem to have taken an unwelcome control over the horror genre over the past decade.  The male characters in the film, again are inhibiting their own demise by entering spaces riddled with drugs and crime and, assumedly, engaging in rampant and perhaps unsafe sex.  If the threat of their demise at the hands of maniac murderers is intended to be jarring to viewers, it is only in a sense that a person watching the film would not find all of their previous behavior absolutely disgusting.  Indeed, they move through the space of the film consuming and taking as they please at no point seeming even slightly apologetic, but that does not stop Roth from distinguishing his characters on some moral high ground, either making them vegetarians to denote their higher sentience, or giving Paxton the ability to be bilingual as to make him slightly "less American" when it proves absolutely beneficial.  Furthermore, to make the degree of empathy work, there really has to be a build of suffering and a moment of realization on the part of the protagonist that never comes at any point within Hostel.  Paxton is always a bit too aware of the situation and fortune really favors his every endeavor, never once getting caught in a truly threatening situation once he is able to free himself from without a challenge.  Mind you he breaks out of a chained chair, saves a half-blinded woman and dodges a ton of guards and torturers without even a semblance of trouble, only to use previously threatening village children to his advantage, never mind a lack of authority and explanation to the outcome of any events.  Roth seems aimed at shocking viewers into intrigue, but manages to forget that intrigue must be established at all points, before any sort of disgust or jarring work might emerge.

Key Scene:  The eye removal scene may well be the only well-executed thing in this entire film, in that it was completely grotesque.

AVOID THIS MOVIE, not because it is gross, but because it is bad.

He Is A Rambunctious Sort, Ain't He?: Django Unchained (2012)

Quentin Tarantino has over the years become one of the handful of directors whose works are sure to become points of media contention, whether it be for their complete disregard of historicism or as a result of what some find to be problematic appropriations of racial or gendered identities.  These controversies aside, I place Tarantino in a special category of filmmaker, one where I go somewhat out of my way to assure that I see his films in theaters, and while I have only been able to see his two most recent works in theaters, I am always keeping an eye out for retrospectives of his work to emerge.  Like the work of Paul Thomas Anderson, I feel that Tarantino's films exude an undeniable amount of cinematic outpouring that demands they be viewed on the biggest screen possible, although viewers are often awarded a more lively experience with the latter director, in so much as he provides such high levels of action and comedy that it is impossible not to become enthralled with its magnificence.  Of course much can be said about the manner with which Tarantino glorifies violence and revenge to push his narratives along, however, Django Unchained is a particularly well written piece by the always absurdist director, one that does indeed display some of the more intense moments of the direness of slavery, while also infusing it with the wily and revolutionary elements so inherent to the tradition of spaghetti westerns.  This heavy tie to the spaghetti western genre is apparent through out various cinematic references, although I found some of his nods to classic silent film directors rather impressive most notably to the grandeur of D.W. Griffith, as well as to Eric Von Stroheim's tragically lost classic Greed, what with a giant ass tooth flailing around in some of the opening scenes.  I am thoroughly impressed by everything offered in this film, although I will admit that it proved to be exactly the film I expected going in and really runs within the same vein as Inglorious Basterds.  Basically, Django Unchained will probably prove to be the last thing I see in theaters this year and I am happy for that to be the case.

Django Unchained it what may prove to be Tarantino's most straightforward title since Kill Bill, focuses on the events surrounding slave Django (Jamie Foxx) receiving his freedoms from the hands of German dentist turned bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) who employs Django to help him find a set of slave overseers with criminal records.  After realizing that he will be provided with his freedom for helping Schultz, Django informs Schultz that he desires nothing more than to save his wife Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) from slavery after they were separated for being caught as runaway slaves.  Schultz immediately seeing the connections to Wagner's Ring Cycle cannot help but offer his hand in aid, mostly because he is fully aware that Django's status as black, regardless of freedom will not allow him anywhere near the slave trade insiders.  Suggesting that he train with him as a bounty hunter, Schultz creates an elaborate plan to pass as "mandingo fighters" in which Django will pretend to be an expert in the subject, accepting that he is only performing a theatrical role of sorts.  This plan leads them to the world of Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), whose post-modernly named Candieland is a centrifuge for a variety of slaves, including Broomhilda whose markings as a runaway mean that her relatively privileged status as a house servant are quick to become that of a comfort girl.  Calvin is of course incredibly protective of his world and wealth and picks up on the possibility that Schultz and Django may be playing up a ruse.  However, it is the head house servant Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson), and his over zealous desire to be liked by his white owners, that picks up on Django and Broomhilda's loving glances.  Blowing the lid on the ruse, Calvin demands that Schultz pay the amount of twelve thousand dollars for Broomhilda.  Schultz quickly agrees and while attempting to leave Calvin demands that Schultz shake his hand, as a form of southern tradition, which leads to Shultz shooting Calvin.  This ultimately follows with a huge shoot out and an extra final act of retribution in the films closing that is hyper-violent and destructive, but to be fair it is right in line with what fans of Tarantino have come to expect.

So the major question circulating around Django Unchained is as to what degree of racism occurs within its construct.  This critique is not new to Tarantino, as theorist bell hooks has often been critical of the director's lack in providing for revolutionary spaces within his films for characters with intersectional oppressions to transform and transcend their suffering.  This is true, in so much, as characters often either accept that they have become part of a larger system and simply find their own means to navigate said system, without deconstructing it or seeking its removal.  One could make readings like this apply to Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown and Death Proof with little difficulty.  However, the criticism circling around Django Unchained, specifically, seems to be the Tarantino's use of racial epithets and slavery in an exploitative manner, to revel in revenge, much like that of Inglorious Basterds.  There is a degree of validity to this claim, however, I think unlike Inglorious Basterds, Django Unchained really drives home the questions and reflections on how illogical slavery was, in that  it provided one group of people with unbridled power over another based on various degrees of misinformation, most notably the illogical nature of phrenology, which Calvin seem preoccupied with throughout the film.  Let us not forget that this film is mostly about a slavery getting his freedom and obtaining the freedom of his wife, one that begins with him attempting to navigate through the oppressive world according to the oppressor's rules, which occurs in some of the earlier mentioned works.    As Audre Lorde would suggest, "one cannot dismantle the master's house with the master's tools," however, in the alternate absurd world of Quentin Tarantino this is completely possible as Django obliterates a slave master's house with weapons.  To be fair in all this I am a white male watching this film so my reading is informed by certain elements of privilege and a back catalogue of film viewing that includes some truly racist cinema.  I look forward to reading other criticism of the film  as it becomes more watched and reflected upon, however, I am not looking forward to more blind anger directed towards the film by people who have flat out refused to even consider its existence.

Key Scene:  The Cleo Lounge scene is incredibly intense and exceptionally sobering and reflective of a new level of seriousness on the part of Tarantino, a reminder that he may make a film with exploitative elements, yet be fully aware of the historical seriousness of his subject matter.

As I argued earlier, Tarantino films were born to be viewed in theaters, do yourself a favor and catch a matinee this week.

It's Not Suicide If You Are Already Dead: From Dusk Till Dawn (1996)

Quotable, hyperviolent and absurd are all words that could appropriately describe Robert Rodriguez's horror action film From Dusk Till Dawn, in a similar manner to his later work Death Proof, From Dusk Till Dawn takes one narrative convention and suggests a certain plot only to completely avert genre midway, of course one welcomes this in a Rodriguez movie because he does so with such flare and cinematic zeal.  As such, this conversion of genre is what allows for From Dusk Till Dawn to make my horror list, because it is undeniably centered in the genre for its back half, despite initially being, and to some degree remaining, a heist film.  For the most part well-acted, with the exception of the ever grating Juliette Lewis, the group of performers manage to make the most unusual of circumstances seem at the very least plausible.  Furthermore, From Dusk Till Dawn does a great deal of genre reflection and coalescing, hearkening back to everything from seventies shlock films to a great deal of noir existentialism, even throwing in a bit of family road trip drama for laughs.  Rodriguez is of the same breed of filmmaker as Tarantino, who casts in the film, in that he wants to spend as much of the narrative showing how much he likes films, as well as how good he is at directing them.  At no point is the story in From Dusk Till Dawn boring one is on the edge of their seat waiting for the next ridiculous moment or intense action scene, even if, as is the case with myself, it a second, third or hundredth viewing.  Of course, as is often the case with Tarantino, Rodriguez's films suffer from a certain gendered state of mind that can make a considerable amount of the action quite problematic.

From Dusk Till Dawn begins with two men pulling into a liquor store, only to be followed by the entrance of a cop.  The cop after a bit of banter with the clerk heads to the bath room leaving the two men to reveal their motives as runaway thieves, who in a moment of panic shoot the cop, as well as all those present in the store.  It is revealed that the two men are the Gecko Brothers, Seth (George Clooney) and Richie (Quentin Tarantino) and that they are on the run from essentially the entire Texas police force.  Simultaneously we are introduced to a family on a trip, one that includes a doubting preacher father named Jacob (Harvey Keitel), his daughter Kate (Juliette Lewis) and his clearly adopted son Scott (Ernest Liu).  As fate would have it, the two groups collide, leading to the Gecko Brothers taking the family hostage and using their RV as a means to travel to Mexico somewhat undetected.  After an intense border crossing scene the group makes it to their desired destination the eponymous Titty Twister bar and strip club.  Choosing the place because it is open from dusk till dawn, the entire group, Jacob's family included await the arrival of the brother rendezvous.  As drinking ensues and strippers perform things suddenly take a turn for the worst when it become clear that the bar is a vampire haven, one that feeds on its nightly attendees.  The group, along with the help of a few other survivors begin to fight the vampires, eventually losing members as they turn after being bitten.  In the end only a few survive walking away from the incident changed, but unusually unaffected by the inexplicable events.

From Dusk Till Dawn is a fun movie and an extremely watchable horror film, however, like many of Tarantino's films, Rodriguez suffers from a bit of heavy reveling in masculinity.  Everything in this film promotes male dominance, whether it be a constant vying for power between Jacob and Seth, or the obvious phallic nature of the wooden spikes used throughout the film.  Even the presence of Kate, and later, Santanico Pandemonium (Salma Hayek) serves as a means to justify male gaze and desire.  The notion of hypermasculine presence even permeates the minor details of the film, such as handshakes as means of contract, the naming of a character as Sex Machine (Tom Savini), right down to Frost (Fred Williamson) suggesting that no horror on earth will match his experiences during Vietnam.  It is hard to suggest why exactly this glorification in masculine power exists, but I often recall the work of bell hooks in the situations, particularly her critique of Pulp Fiction as ignoring some serious issues of intersectionality and racial stereotyping in the name of hipness.  I would venture to say that From Dusk Till Dawn problematically portrays masculine effects on religion, violence and sexuality only to lose the possibility to critique them beneath insane special effects and cool dialogue.  Now with all that acknowledge, I do very much enjoy this film, however, I am careful to view it with quite the critical eye.

Key Scene:  The discovery of the unconventional weapons cache is hip absurdism.

This movie is a watch instantly gem both on Hulu and Netflix, but should you be a diehard fan of either Tarantino or Rodriguez, this is a must own work.

Top Ten Thursdays: Cool Movies

Cool is such an distinct word when it comes to film.  What makes a cool movie?  That is a question that could have a distinctly different answer contingent on the person.  Furthermore, so many factors go into a film being cool whether it be soundtrack, characters or quotability it is a distinct mixture that results in a successful cool movie.  This list will cover my personal choices for the hippest of the hip in film and remember that when it comes to cool, everything must be chill.

10.) The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly (1966)

This is easily the coolest western to date, and the shootout is an exercise in how to edit.

9.) Chungking Express (1994)

A surrealist love story, Wong Kar Wai's film is as cool as it is honest in its approach to finding love in a technologically distancing world.

8.) Easy Rider (1969)

If it were not enough that this film is a veritable who's who of 60's coolest actors, the soundtrack is a historical document of the era.

7.) The Long Goodbye (1973)

Robert Altman's neonoir redefined what it meant to be a cool detective via the laid back performance of Elliot Gould.

6.) Hardboiled (1992)

Violence rarely justifies a cool movie, yet when it comes to John Woo's films, something about shootouts in hospitals overrules the previous statement.

5.) The Big Lebowski (1998)

Sometimes the coolest thing a person can do is abide.

4.) Breathless (1960)

When it comes to cool, the pentacle of french filmmaking runs circles around every other story of foreign love to date.

3.) Pulp Fiction (1994)

Any movie that incorporates a scene just to have Christopher Walken provide a monologue is in its own category of cool.

2.) Le Samourai (1967)

When you read the description of this film it would be hard to believe in its hipness, however, this lone wolf story is about as cool as they get.

1.) Cool Hand Luke (1967)

Please refer to the film's title for any questions.










Honorable Mention

The Maltese Falcon (1941)
Withnail and I (1987)
Mystery Train (1989)
True Romance (1993)

I Like You, Clarence. Always Have. Always Will: True Romance (1993)

This movie has everything going for it, a Tarantino script, poetic fight scenes and a veritable who's who of 90's actors.  One could quickly imagine this concoction failing miserably, but luckily, the film is treated with finesse in the hands of Hollywood big shot Tony Scott.  It takes an impossible storyline and makes it ever so believable, even though such a story could not exist in a reality outside of cinema.  It is fun, fast and intense and has all the sustenance one would expect from a film involving Quentin Tarantino.  However, what is perhaps most surprising about this film is that it is that Christian Slater's parts are enjoyable, an occurrence that seems impossible in many of his other films.  It is hip, over-the-top and celebratory of a culture from days gone by, it is what a blockbuster popcorn and soda movie should be enthralling to the point of inducing catharsis amongst its viewers.  True Romance is a film that you will become consumed by and not realize you have been watching a film until the credits begin to roll.  A contemporary classic if ever one existed, True Romance is just plain enjoyable.

The narrative, as one comes to expect with Tarantino, is garnished with hipster cultural references and healthy doses of kung-fu films, particularly those of the great Sonny Chiba.  Furthermore, the films characters are inextricably attached to these references, most notably the protagonist Clarence (Christian Slater) who fancies himself a modern day hybrid of Chiba and Elvis that dons Hawaiian shirts and a lax attitude to the world around him.  Clarence appears content to waste his days away employed at a comic book shop until he is brought into a seemingly chance encounter with Alabama (Patricia Arquette), a call girl hired by Clarence's boss to show him a good time on his birthday.  It seems too good to be true, and almost is, until Alabama confesses to harboring legitimate feelings for Clarence, causing her to instantly reject her job as a call girl.  This is easier said than done particularly since her pimp is a faux thug by the name of Drexel (Gary Oldman).  The threat of Drexl does not disturb Clarence, however, and he takes it upon himself to personally kill Drexl.  In a rather comedic moment, Clarence confronts Drexel, ultimately killing him and running off with a suitcase that he believes to contain Alabama's personal belongings.  Clarence quickly discovers that the suitcase actually contains a very large amount of cocaine, something to the tune of a million dollars worth.  Realizing both the problems and possibilities of his new acquisition Clarence contacts his father for advice and then heads out to Los Angeles, where he believes he can get rid of the cocaine quickly for a decent amount of money.  The rest of the film sporadically deals with Clarence as he tries to unload his drugs.  The film includes cameos from Dennis Hopper, Christopher Walken, Brad Pitt, Bronson Pinchot, Samuel L. Jackson, and James Gandolfini amongst others, all culminating in a gorgeous shoot out that is both obnoxiously grandiose and minimalist simultaneously.  It is an action film nerds dream and is pretty much flawless.

I recently finished reading bell hooks' Reel to Real: Race Sex and Class at the Movies and was thoroughly impressed by hooks' concise, yet astute criticisms of many of Hollywood's contemporary films, particularly her brief discussion about Pulp Fiction.  In an piece titled "Cool Cynicism" hooks points out the issues of problematic images in the films of Tarantino, particularly demeaning images of racial stereotypes, homosexuality and spousal abuse.  In Tarantino's films, he makes it a note to state that these are problematic, but rarely are these issues dealt with.  In fact, the cool characters often only receive slaps on the wrist for their bad actions.  Take Marcellus Wallace for example, he is a very bad person, yet his stature and bad as a motherfucker attitude reward him with survival and the ability to castrate his homosexual pursuer.  He is chastised for his negative actions, but in no way reprimanded.  The same case can be made for True Romance, in so much as the film core focuses on the transferring of a very large amount of illegal drugs.  True Romance is only concerned with people who legitimately benefit from drug trading, the dealers and big wigs.  It, with the exception of a few black dealers who die, ignores the lower class individuals who are victimized by drug wars.  By doing so Tarantino's script once again wags a finger at drug use, but fails to note the truly devastating effects of the drug trade, for a better expose on this issue check out Steven Soderbergh's Traffic.  Sure most of the characters involved in the trafficking die, but Clarence and Alabama survive living their life out with the help of a large amount of dirty money.  In Tarantino's eyes, they used corruption to their advantage, which is great for them, but still sucks for those being dealt unseen damage by said corruption.  It is a classic case of cinematic cynicism, masked in a cool and engrossing narrative.

All things considered, this is certainly one of the best movies released in 1993.  The film is a bit dated at times, but still has a timelessness that will make viewers instantly enamored with its wry dialogue and cultural fluidity.  I recommend getting a copy and making a viewing night of it with friends.