What I Miscarried There Was Sister Faith: Possession (1981)

I remember going into my horror movie marathon last year assuming that I would come across nothing that existed in a state of unrelenting profound film making, indeed suspecting nothing but genre films ranging from terrible to run-of-the-mill, excluding, of course, the films I chose to revisit for the marathon.  Yet, when I encountered An American Werewolf in London, I quickly change my tune and embraced it as one of my top ten cinematic experiences of the year.  While that film was certainly in the vein of comedy that just happened to move into a deeply introspective film, Possession, the 1981 horror psychological thriller is anything but hilarious.  Beginning in a heightened state of suspense, this film only pushes the intensity to further levels, incorporating an intense, but never evasive soundtrack, experimental cinematography, a semi-linear, but certainly interwoven narrative and phenomenal acting to result in something that defies simple explanation.  Aside from affording it my rare moniker of "the perfect film" I can only speak to Possession as something that must be viewed.  I know, however, that simply saying "watch this movie" is not enough, because I say that a lot about works, but I also do not find myself captivated and troubled by works as much as I did with Possession.  I felt my jaw continually dropping during the movie and even became aware of the frozen nature of my demeanor as it either leaned intensively into the action on screen, or folded backwards in shock at the depictions occurring.  Somewhere between the maddening body horror of a David Cronenberg film and the general eeriness that invades the work of Roman Polanski exists Possession, a work that takes the idea of what a horror film can be and subverts it and newly appropriates it, ultimately, resulting in a film that is both cinematically beautiful and narratively grotesque.  My gut reaction is to compare it to the dreary look of Army of Shadows, but what unfolds in this failed marriage narrative gone awry is entirely of its own fruition.  Suffice it to say, Possession is a vision of genre film, one that does not desire to be accessible, but certainly wants to be acknowledged in both a tangible conscious manner, as well as a subconscious and surreal way.

Possession focuses on Mark (Sam Neil) a former spy who has returned from a series of intense missions only to discover that his wife Anna (Isabelle Adjani) is quite distanced moving about the space of their disheveled house indifferent to his presence, as well as the well being of their son Bob (Michael Hogben).  This distrust between Mark and Anna moves from purely spoken threats to bizarre acts of self-violence, when one another attempt to hurt themselves with various weapons, most graphically occurring with a meat slicer.  Believing that much of the infidelity is a result of Anna's relationship with the enigmatic sensualist Heinrich (Heinz Bennett), Mark approaches him, only to discover that he too is oblivious to how truly wild Anna's life has become in Marks absence.  Attempting to discover what has occurred during his absence, Mark hires a private investigator to study Anna's whereabouts.  When this investigator tricks Anna into letting him into her apartment, the man discovers a bizarre creature growing in her room, one that attacks the investigator.  Still unsure about Anna's repeated absences, at this point stretching weeks at a time, Mark begins a relationship with Bob's teacher Helen (Isabelle Adjani) whose similarity to Anna is uncanny, indeed, identical.  When the investigators partner, in a romantic sense, attempts to find his deceased lover he too becomes victim to Anna's creature, although the death is shown to be distinctly at the hands of Anna in this situation.  Heinrich is the next person to invade the space of Anna's apartment, this time seeing the corpses for himself, all of which are stuffed in Anna's refrigerator.  Surviving a stabbing at the hands of Anna, Heinrich attempts to warn Mark, who still suspicious attacks Heinrich in a bath room, drowning him in a toilet in the process.  Inexplicably, Heinrich's mother begins contacting Mark about the whereabouts of her son, but Mark simply ignores these inquiries and finally enters Anna's apartment where he discovers her engaged in intercourse with the evolving creature, while continually uttering the word "almost."  After a run-in with his former associates, Mark finds Anna in a building standing next to his own doppelganger, assumedly the final form of the creature from earlier scenes, resulting in an intense shootout, that leads to the death of Anna and the doppelganger.  The final moments of the film, without reason, depict Bob and Anna in their home, Bob running upstairs to apparently drown himself in the bathtub, while Anna stares directly into camera.  The sound of sirens and bombs and the flickering of the lights end the film with no context as to their result on the people in the film.

I am fully aware that the description I just provided seems really all over the place and impossibly puzzling.  I am also aware that it only covers about half of what is going on in the larger narrative of the film.  Much like the works of Polanski and Cronenberg one can certainly pull themes from the film, particularly since there is a degree of repetition within the film even if not blatantly shown in the ways it might in other films.  Firstly, the film carries a clear element of panopticism about its narrative, wherein, the characters in the narrative, are clearly aware of a unseen presence (at a few moments clearly seen) watching over their actions.  Whether it be Anna's breaking down in the subway tunnel or Mark's hectic movements through the bar in search of Heinrich, there is a clear acknowledgement of a presence that is beyond the space of the film, one that is decidedly invasive and always at odds with the characters.  Cinematographer Bruno Nuytten reinforces this feeling with a considerable combination of impossible close-ups, handheld pans and generally innovative camera tricks to make this broken space that much more challenging to viewers.  Indeed, one could suggest that the extended presence of the film, the voyeuristic threat is none other than the individual viewing the film, making the distrust depicted by Anna and Mark that much more jarring, as well as helping to explain the break that happens about midway through when the film goes meta and the fourth wall is theoretically broken.  Moreover, the film also takes liberties with how the body horror narrative can emerge, particularly when it is shared by characters, and doubled with an element of the doppelganger narrative here.  In a more traditional film, say a German silent expressionist film, the doppelganger serves as a confrontation to the unideal self, wherein it is not what the character wants to become, something that happens to certain degree in other body horror films.  However, this is where the film seems to share nicely with Cronenbergs work, in so much as the altered body is suggested to be the ideal, whether reinforced in Existenz or The Fly, it is an achievement of mutated madness.  Indeed, this also ties itself to issues of the maternal as surrogate for the ideal form, one that requires the womb as a sacrificial space, but that is a theoretical endeavor that I am far from equipped to tackle, however, it is yet another level in which Possession appears to be working.

Key Scene:  Anna's breakdown/possession in the subway is intense and drags on indefinitely.  It makes for some of the most disconcerting film viewing imaginable, but in a highly profound manner.

This film is out of print, I had to get "creative" with how I obtained a copy.  With that being said, I have my eye on the region 2 bluray, hopefully it will drop in price at some point.  If you can track this film down, it is well worth your time to view.

I Want To Stay Sane Enough To Recognize The Terror: Marebito (2004)

I have seen many Tartan Asian Extreme releases, in most cases entirely predicated upon their being Korean films, which means that I will give them consideration for this fact alone.  While about a third of the films are generally watchable, most prove a bit reductive, or exploitative in ways that neither push forward genre conventions or prove watchable even in a disconcerting manner.  Even fewer suffer from the problem of wild mislabeling in their advertisement, or at least that was the case with Marebito, a film that sat on my "to view" shelf for ages because from the looks of its vague, torture porn/vampire cover it was something I would immediately hate upon popping it into my DVD player.  Yet, in the case of this film, the DVD cover and vague description on the back do little to truly speak to the excellent work which presents itself on the film.  An entirely digital film, Takashi Shimizu, manages to meld together various types of moving images, whether they be video recordings, television images or even the diegetic space of the film itself to consider what is seen by the human eye and, more interestingly, what presences beyond human perception can emerge when a new form of technology can achieve heightened senses.  Doubling also as a narrative of descent into the labyrinth of madness, Marebito becomes a work so purposefully expressionist that it has a degree of landscape painting, at times indicative of the work of Caspar David Friedrich or the wonderful nightmarish spaces of a F.W. Murnau film, more so considering the twisting of the plot in ways that make Dr. Caligari seem like a straightforward story.  Marebito, much like post-2000 J-horror films, challenges the conventions of horror, but does so while also undermining the entire under process of filmmaking in the process.

Marebito focuses on Masuoka (Shinya Tsukamoto) a freelance cameraman who travels about the city of Tokyo chronicling items of interest, compounding them together, along with hours of surveillance footage to create a bizarre sort of viewing room in his house full of televisions and computer screens constantly streaming various imagery, both of a mundane and tragic nature.  Perhaps one of the more unusual things in Masuoka's viewing is that of a woman staring out a window, of which he constantly talks to about her existence.  However, when Masuoka uncovers footage of a man stabbing himself in the forehead, he becomes obsessed with the nature of his fear and curious as to what the man was starring at so intensely right before committing the act.  When the image breaks free of its conventions and directly acknowledges Masuoka's looking, he becomes even more scared and begins a quest into the underworld of Tokyo to find answers.   With his camera in tow, Masuoka discovers a world of underground dwellers known as Dero, who seem more like bestial vampires than humanoid figures.  When he comes across the deceased form of the body he watched stab itself on screen, Masuoka's descent takes on new levels, particularly when he emerges from his descent into a new world of lush colors and dreary skylines, where he finds one of the presumed Deros, this time a female, chained to the wall naked.  Confused, but curious, Masuoka takes the woman back to his apartment and begins keeping her as a pet, an act that quickly takes a dark turn, not only for its possession elements, but because the girl, who Masuoka names F, can only be nourished by being given blood to consume, finding particular enjoyment in human blood.  This leads to Masuoka's life falling apart and his alienating, in some times very harmful ways, from the rest of the world, while also becoming aware of his own heightened perceptions after his descent into the darkness, leading to a sacrificial act on his part so grand that it causes him to assumedly plunge into the depths of the labyrinth completely and irreversibly.

To call Marebito a bizarre reconsideration of Plato's Allegory of the Cave would be a bit of a misnomer, even if Masuoka does represent a character bringing an understanding of "the light" to a group living in the shadows.  Indeed, it is far more inclined to pull from the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, particularly since the narrative does have a winding maze like quality about it and the descent into the labyrinth is rather obvious.  Masuoka, however, is far from the valiant figure of Theseus who manages to slay a minotaur and win the love of the girl.  Instead, Masuoka is almost a hybrid of the two tales, a man questing a deeper understanding of perception by coming to face that which is truly frightening, hoping to share in the vision of the suicidal man, thus becoming hyper aware of the world that surround him.  Masuoka certainly achieves this quest, but it is also at the cost of much of the world around him, clearly not the most healthy of individuals Masuoka shells himself up in his home, clearly malnourished and decidedly lacking in proper hygiene.  It is not until his ability to sequester himself from the world around him is question, via his wife whose presence inexplicably emerges into the narrative that things truly take a turn.  The Prozac popping Masuoka tosses away his pills, affording him a new awareness of his surroundings, realizing that even the most normal seeming of individuals are existing in a state of fractured self, one that is tied to the digital world in ways that are visible.  The quickly maddening Masuoka also begins to pick up the creatures navigate the liminal space of the world both through the lens of his film camera, as well as in the shadows of the street, his psychosis, or perhaps his "transcendence" into darkness proving the necessary lens to capture the world in a new and decidedly troublesome way.  This is only one element within all the other considerations at work in Marebito, including narratives of voyeurism, depression, the place of technology in modern Japan and relationships in a broad scale.  It works on these levels brilliantly and jarringly.

Key Scene:  The walking through the streets of Tokyo when Masuoka's perceptions begin to falter is haunting, in a way only digital filmmaking could invoke.

This DVD is pretty cheap on Amazon, but it might still be worth renting first, particularly since I am still uncertain as to whether or not this is actually a brilliant film.

This Isn't Caving, This Is An Ego Trip: The Descent (2005)

I am beginning to commit to enjoying horror films, I am fully aware that it seems contradictory to a cinephile to enjoy horror movies, because by mainstream standards they are regarded as a lesser genre, one that is constantly pumped out and fills the space of movie theaters, in most cases, with garbage.  Furthermore, I have in the past talked about a "horror renaissance," and am certainly not the only person to provide such terminology when discussing the genre and its seeming disappearance over the past few years.  I am fully committed to now recanting that statement and claiming that there have been a solid set of horror offerings over the past decade and some change, we are just foolish as cinephiles to expect them to manifest themselves in a manner similar to that of say the eighties where gore ruled all and over-the-top was a must.  I think it is often a problem of fans of that era to assume that classic horror films of that era were the only thing to appropriate such stylistic choices, when, in fact, most every film from the 80's adheres to a high degree of showiness, even when it is meant to be serious and dramatic, think about Cinema Paradiso and Amadeus as primary examples.  I say all this to bring up The Descent, a relatively overlooked horror film from 2005 that is quite enjoyable and does little to undermine the tradition of the horror genre, in fact, aside from its setting it actually embraces most of the tropes of the horror genre, especially all of the elements that made the 80's one of the high moments for scary movies.  In fact, excluding a few new ways of scaring, I would say that The Descent is a viewer's guide to all the ways to scare in a horror film, which may suggest that it is lesser in its repetition, but its decided post-modern approach to the genre is damn scary in its execution, because while writer and director Neil Marshall certainly uses traditional ways to get you to jump out of your seat he seems to have everything a second or two off kilter making the scares deliver at the most unexpected moments.  The Descent will scare you and just when you think you have been provided the worst moments in the film they manage to extend a bit longer, not to mention, this is one insanely gory movie and man does it embrace that state of mind.

The Descent follows the experiences of a group of thrill seeking women who spend their time exploring the wild outdoors, attempting to navigate new landscapes and untapped territories.  However, during their most recent trip Sarah (Shauna MacDonald) experiences tragedy when during the return home, her husband dies in an intense and traumatic car accident, leading to her being hospitalized.  A year later, Sarah is invited to go caving with her group of friends, as a means to move on and forget about her tragic events of the past.  However, it is clear that even though she is attending the trip her psychological state is far from sane.  Nonetheless, the group undertakes a night of partying and boozing before heading on their trip, to a cave, which the group's optimistic leader Juno (Natalie Mendoza) fails to mention has been unmarked.  The descent, from which the film sort of draws its name, is relatively uneventful at first, aside from the occasional scare of bats or rock slippage.  Yet when it becomes clear that they must enter into the smaller portions of the cave to advance further paranoia begins to rise within the group, particularly Sarah who begins to have panicked visions of her past traumas, as well as visions of things moving throughout the cave.  After an accident immobilizes one of the members, it is revealed that Sarah's visions were far from imagined and that the cave is indeed occupied by humanoid creatures who have a desire to destroy and devour the occupants of their cave.  One by one the creatures pick off the members of the group, until it is only Juno and Sarah left, whose friendship was already at odds when Juno revealed her desire for naming the cave in their honor.  In an act of vengeance, Sarah attacks Juno with a climbing spike, leaving her stuck waiting for an eventual death at the hands of the creatures.  Sarah manages to escape and in a panicked state makes her way the group's car and escapes, however, when she pulls off to the side of the road it is made apparent that this escape was all but real and that her visions of insanity may have been much deeper than initially assumed.

I mentioned that The Descent has a title with a dual meaning.  The obvious one being that it is about a group of women descending a cave, whereas the second refers to one woman and her descent into madness after the crippling sense of loss when her partner dies.  Of course, that is the metaphor that extends throughout the film, because as many know, good horror films exist to exploit the hell out of a metaphor and The Descent does it with unadulterated commitment.  For example, the creatures themselves could represent Sarah's own blind rage, one that is intent on destroying everything in a state of vengeance, misguided and inexplicable it is a sort of feeling of injustice that if not properly attended to could explode into serious issues.  Furthermore, her fractured relationship with Juno is not necessarily reflective of her deception regarding their planned locale, but, instead; a result of her failed help as a friend after her husband's death.  As both Sarah and another friend note, Juno disappeared immediately after the accident as opposed to saying the length of time appropriate to help Sarah through her mental breakdown.  Therefore, her act of revenge against Juno in the closing moments of the film has a possible second layer of "pinning" her down for her own previous indiscretions, allowing her to no longer use mobility to escape, one could argue that by attacking Juno, Sarah has forced her to face her evasiveness.  While the other characters seem secondary in this critique they are certainly not that, in fact, I would argue that they also represent an extension of Sarah's psyche, or better yet problematic ways in which she could have dealt with the tragedy.  For example, one girl is aiming to be a doctor, perhaps a metaphor for the problems of treating Sarah as a fragile being in constant need of care, whereas another addition to the group is a woman who navigates each moment as though it is a singular detached experience, perhaps a failed approach Sarah might have taken after her husbands death.  Regardless of these readings the closing of the film suggests that any and all efforts were in vain, because Sarah succumbs to the darkness of her descent, one of loneliness and inevitable death.

Key Scene:   For as many scary moments in the film, perhaps the most creepy moment comes rather early in the film.  Suffice to say, it involves a window and boy did it stick with me.

This is an excellent film and one of the better horror films of the past decade.  I strongly encourage you to pick up the cheap bluray, it is certainly worth more than its price suggests.

This Isn't Sorcery, This Is Torture: Kill Baby, Kill (1966)

There may be nothing worse in regards to film viewing then committing to a movie that is almost good, but in the end falls short and proves to be absolutely average.  While it may be a reactionary element on my part to the particular stylings of filmmakers like Dario Argento, Jean Rollin and in the case of Kill Baby, Kill director Mario Bava I feel as though the film in question is almost on tap to something excellent but manages to be to preoccupied with narrative closure and normalcy to commit to its zany direction.  I am also aware that I am watching this film with dubbing, which can prove grating in the case of a film that is not necessarily aided by absurdly terrible translations and delivery.  Kill Baby, Kill is a solid film and it has many shining moments, particularly a handful of experimental shots that would suggest a brilliant idea under the surface of vain concerns for attractive people with paranormal problems.  I will admit openly that I am quite unaware of Bava's process as a filmmaker, but the film seriously wreaks of being tampered with, in so much as it has some rather jarring and enjoyable breaks form linear narrative, only to continually resituate itself within the traditional filmic structure, most times with no explanation as to why.  It is one thing for me to engage with a film that purposefully avoids providing characters with names, but it is entirely another matter when I am rather certain that I am being told characters names repeatedly, but have little memory of what they might be scenes later.  Hell, I recently went on a tequila fueled night of Spanish films and undertook watching a Santo film only to be disappointed to discover that it had no subtitles, nor did it possess dubbing.  That being said, I continued to watch the film and managed to glean a plot to some degree, although to be fair it could have just been some elaborate fever dream brought on by the aforementioned tequila.  I offer this aside only to say this about Kill Baby, Kill, I thoroughly enjoyed it as a film and understand that many of its faults are indicative of its era and technological restraints, but there is absolutely nothing more frustrating than seeing moments of genius sandwiched in the middle of a subpar filmmaking.  I would equate it to placing delicious savory brie in the middle of dollar store slices of bread, if that is your course of action it is better just to eat the cheese on its own, much like this would have been a far better film it were just a set of experimental flairs detached from an attempt at cohesive narrative.


I will attempt to hash out some degree of plot from a film that is surprisingly assured that it has a direct plot.  Viewers are introduced to some dark decaying Victorian world in which a woman appears to be nonsensically running about a mansion, only to catch sight of an incredibly sharp spike on a gate.  Upon seeing this she jumps to her death, impaling herself.  This action leads to the county coroner arriving, one Dr. Eswai (Giacomo Rossi-Stuart), only to discover that the town is incredibly unreceptive to his presence, existing instead in an outdated frame of mind that values sorcery and witchcraft over any degree of scientific truth.  This situation makes it insanely difficult for Eswai to get information or make a case for what he assumes to be murders.  As his movement through the area increases he becomes aware of many inexplicable deaths, mostly women, who lose large amounts of blood in the process.  The supernatural activities of the town, Eswai discovers are enacted to counter the demonic spells of Baroness Graps (Giovanna Galletti).  At this point, Eswai becomes incredibly confused as to what the truth of the matter is as it relates to the village, finding no aid when navigating between talismans and scientific truth, yet as more of his friends and trusted colleagues die, Eswai realizes that time is very much lacking and confronts Graps, only to discover that she has enacted such spells as a form of retribution against the town whose drunken oversights resulted in the death of her daughter, who was trampled by horses and slowly bled to death.  Graps believes that her daughters painful death is now the onus of the entire village, create a cycle of death as a means to assure revenge. Yet, Graps is also baffled when she realizes that her daughters spirit also navigates the spaces of the town exacting her own revenge, masked in eerie playfulness.  Fortunately, Eswai realizes the complexities of the situation at the last possible moment and saves his love interest while also assuring the destruction of Graps, although at the hands of another woman whose story is also seemingly important.

Cyclicality in film is not a terrible thing, in fact, it is a necessity in time travel films, and work quite nicely in the recent Men in Black III, however, it can be a bit frustrating when a film wants to offer this great non-linear focus on a cycle of issues, only to go about it in a terribly straightforward manner.  This, again, is my problem with Kill Baby, Kill, it is a narrative of a straight line, whose moments of experimentation seem like hiccups on a seismology reading.  The reminder that a good being is navigating the filmic space results in a narrative where sparks of zeal and camerawork that move through the environment as though they were their own character are ultimately lost, because they, aside from looking stellar, seem to have little affect on the narrative.  Earlier today, I listened to some of a podcasts from the excellent show Filmspotting, and they were making a less harsh criticism of Rami's initial Evil Dead film, suggesting that his use of bizarre camera work occasionally draws in viewers about their relationship with a horror occurring, particularly question within what sort of temporal and spatial world a paranormal narrative can exist.  Again think of the ways the Paranormal Activity franchise managed to challenge how viewers understand a linear horror film narrative, I know I am amongst a minor group of defenders for the films, but they really did revitalize how horror exists, and have for the worst created a set of offsprings that seem to betray the original, much in the ways that Kill Baby, Kill does with non-linear narrative.  Bava's work seems so intent on being surrealistic that when it does have the moments of such a degree of insanity they seem to be secondary to a lackluster plot.  I know that this film predates the original The Wicker Man by quite a few years, but it is clear that the sort of paranormal space created within that latter, is realized from the opening moments of the film, as opposed to be something that comes and goes at the whim of narrative normalcy.

Key Scene:  P.O.V swingset shot.

This is not a terrible film, but it is really damn frustrating.  I want it to be something it is not and I realize much of this is my own problem. With that in mind watch it instantly on Netflix and feel free to tell me that I am completely misreading the film, it is quite possibly the truth.

Let's Hear It For Rupert Pupkin!: The King Of Comedy (1982)

I often find myself defending some of Martin Scorsese's more recent work, against critics and cinephiles who say that he has lost his touch.  I always through up defenses such as his being older and evolving as a filmmaker, focusing on different themes and ideas.  However, after my recent viewing of The King of Comedy, I am finding it harder to convince myself of the validity of such statements, particularly since the film is mind-blowingly brilliant without relying on the edgy, violent hipness that people have come to associate with Scorsese, who is perhaps New York's most prolific filmmaker.  In its decidedly humorist approach, The King of Comedy does not reach the level of Taxi Driver, or Raging Bull, but it certainly does not profess to be such a film, in fact, it is decidedly aware of its fabricated nature and intends fully to deconstruct the very elements that make it so enjoyable.  At no point is The King of Comedy pretentious or too self-invovled, which makes it astute observations on the cult of celebrity and societal ignorance concerning mental illness all the more prescient, even as the film now exists within a thirty year window.  Furthermore, I am a huge fan of Robert De Niro, often defending him in the same breaths that I do Scorsese, and while I thought he worked some moment of magic into a rather phoned in performance in Silver Linings Playbook, it was a revelation to see the "typecast" performer exist in an acting spectrum that I had been entirely unaware of up until this point.  I do not doubt that Robert De Niro has fun as an actor, you can see it on his face, especially in that little smirk he adds to even the most serious of roles, however, as Rupert Pupkin, De Niro is working on an entirely different level of intensity and absurdity that can only be described as mesmerizing, and it would be one thing if he were existing in this acting realm alone but his supporting cast, Jerry Lewis, in particular, manage to deliver equally amazing performances in what is slowly proving to be one of my new favorite Scorsese film.  Hell, I would even be willing to say that watching The King of Comedy has led me to consider the very real possibility that Scorsese himself is "The King of American Cinema," a knowingly bold statement, but one that is certainly worth seriously considering.

The King of Comedy centers on the experiences of Rupert Pupkin (Robert De Niro) a delusional man who believes himself to possess the necessary chops to be a stand-up comedian known and loved by the households of America, however, he has failed to be given the chance to show his skills to a national audiences.  As such, Rupert believes that by befriending well-known late-night host, and former comedian, Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis) he will be able to obtain such privileges.  Unfortunately, Rupert appears to have no real understanding of the ways in which society works, believing that after a "chance" encounter with Jerry after a live-taping of his show that he will in some way befriend him to the point of simply being put on air.  This believe leads him to create an elaborate lie about his friendship with the late-night host as a means to win the affections of a high school love interest named Rita Keane (Diahnne Abbot) who thinks there might just be validity to Rupert's statements.  However, viewers are made well-aware of Rupert's delusions of grandeur, even depicting many of them within the narrative, often blurring beautifully between reality and the imagined.  Nonetheless, after being denied access with Jerry in the studios, Rupert builds up enough audacity to simply take Rita and himself on a trip to Jerry's home, much to the confusion of Jerry's servants, and eventually Jerry himself.  After being asked to leave, Rupert realizes that in order to find success on television he will have to resort to drastic measures and kidnap Jerry, a task that requires the help of his sometimes partner in crime, and fanatic of Jerry's, Masha (Sandra Bernhard).  In a hilariously haphazard manner the two are able to take Jerry and kidnap him within his own home, at which point Rupert makes a rather simple ransom demand.  He only desires to be allowed a monologue on Jerry's show in return for his safety, a request that is initially denied, but eventually embraced by the producers and law enforcement.  Rupert is given his moment to shine, and shine he does, much to the adoration of everyone viewing, leading to a cult following, while he spends time in jail for kidnapping.  The film closes with Rupert delivering a taped show of his comedy act, however, viewers are certainly left to consider whether this event actually occurs, or is yet another extension of Rupert's insane delusions.

The film absolutely rejects linearity, and understandably so, after all, it is essentially a film about Rupert, who does not exist on a spatial plane of "normal" rationality.  So fueled by the belief that he is a talented comedian, Rupert simply refuses to believe any other course of action possible.  The question then becomes whether one should criticize Rupert for his unusual actions and wild attempts to gain popularity.  It would be one thing if Rupert were hurting people in the process, but aside from Jerry being taped to a chair for no apparent reason, Rupert seems intent on pleasing and being incredibly nice to everyone he meets, even the security guards who forcefully remove Rupert from Jerry's office.  It is clear that Rupert really just wants to be a comedian and desires to share his material with the world, because, up until this point he has only heard the criticisms of his mother, a figure, in all its Freudian implications, that may well be another extension of his imagination.  It would also be an entirely different film if Rupert were to appear on the show and completely bomb.  Sure it is rather clear that much of his comedy is heavily self-depricating, but is that not the basis of most comedic routines, but the audience adore its delivery, humor and, for lack of better words, insanity, showing that the gift Rupert has is by no means imagined and very real, affirmed by his sharing it will a bar full of people.  The trouble resides in reading into the film as any version of reality, when reviewing Taxi Driver, awhile back I discussed the possibility that the entire film is a dream sequence experience by Travis Bickle, suggested in his final glance into the camera through his rearview mirror.  If that reading is possible with Taxi Driver, it is certainly a likely interpretation when Rupert Pupkin breaks the fourth wall in the closing moments of this film, even if ever so briefly.  Of course, such an interpretation betrays everything I just wrote, but, to be honest, I am fine with that, because it only means that the film requires many revisits in the future.

Key Scene:  The monologue is so built up that when it is finally delivered one cannot help but happily welcome it in all its madness.

This film is cheap enough on DVD and certainly has a quality about it that reject needing a bluray upgrade, although I would certainly not be opposed to such an acquisition in the future.

You Need To Do Something Bad To Stop Yourself From Doing Something Worse: Stoker (2013)

Here goes my first in theater viewing experience for a film released in 2013, and boy could it have been anything more welcomed and wonderful than Chan-wook Park's English language debut Stoker.  I had already planned on viewing and blogging about this film given the skew towards Korean cinema that has occurred since my beginning graduate school, however, it works doubly in that it is also a film centrally focused on a woman, or in the case of this narrative a relationship between a mother and daughter, more than justifying its inclusion on this month of women in film.  Stoker, based solely on its trailer alone, promised to be an intense and gripping psychological thriller, with expert actors and all the insanity one would hope from Park's legacy.  I was admittedly worried that the American framework would actually hinder Park's sensibilities as he would be required to adhere to the expectations and safety of studio work, however, this is far from the case.  Stoker, while certainly no, Oldboy, manages to exceed in intensity, break the conventional frameworks of cinema, to the point of purposefully freezing frames, not to mention having a narrative so incomprehensible, multi-tiered and non-linear that it does not simply suggest a reviewing, but assuredly demands it occur.  It is a pleasure to see a Park film in English, not that I do not fully enjoy his work, even when I have to read subtitles, but the extra layers of humor, darkness and subversion that emerge merely within the way lines are delivered added to the experience of his work twofold.  In its decidedly non-traditional structure, Stoker rejects the traditional storytelling arc of cause and effect leading to a climax that is succinctly solved.   Instead, Stoker begins at a swelling point and expands continually, always seeming as though it is ready to burst at the seams, and even when viewers are led to the moment where they could assume the narrative has taken its last violent twist, they are quickly betrayed their comfort when the madness of the film pushes one step further.  If Stoker is an early entry into 2013, I am absolutely elated as to what else will emerge  to be its equal, and even surpass.

Stoker focuses on a family reeling from the death of their patriarchal figurehead Richard Stoker (Dermot Mulroney) after his apparent suicide.  While death never proves to occur at a good time, it is particularly problematic for young India Stoker (Mia Wasikowska) whose birthday also fell on the same  day.  An already reclusive girl, India goes into a full scale withdrawal, only worsened by her mother Evelyn (Nicole Kidman) and her attempts at overbearing forces of unity.  The two find it troublesome to navigate a world after the loss of their husband and father, yet when Richard's brother Charlie (Matthew Goode) appears the family adjusts to an eerie change, because this is the first time India has ever learned of Charlie's existence.  His impending presence is already problematic in his clear indifference to the absence of his late brother, as well as his immediately burgeoning relationship with the widowed Evelyn.  However, while it is clear that Evelyn is far more affectionate towards Charlie, he, nonetheless, engages in her advances half-heartedly, all the while making awkward passes at India. When various individuals go missing, particularly Charlie and Richard's aunt Gwendolyn (Jackie Weaver) India begins to grow suspicious, an act whose engagement leads to her growing disconnect at school, coming to head when she attacks a boy with a sharp pencil.  In the process, Charlie becomes even more protective and invasive in India's life, even saving her from a near rape, by choking the aggressor to the point of breaking his neck, something India reflects upon fondly.  However, when suspicions towards Charlie mount, India does more research, and discovers that Charlie's past is incredibly problematic, leading to Charlie attempting to convince that they should escape the house and move to New York.  However, Charlie realizes that, in order, to successfully move they must get rid of Evelyn, an act that India reacts to in an unusual manner, leading to her own movement out of the house into the world, closing the film in a baffling yet incredibly intense way.

I feel almost a fraud in my consideration of actually analyzing this film, because to be fair there is a lot going on, particularly in relationship to authority and undermining power.  Firstly, however, I want to make note of the ways in which Park is clearly borrowing from many of his predecessors, whether it be the tips of the hat to Hitchcock via Matthew Goode's inspired rendition of Anthony Perkins circa Psycho, or some rather clever reconsiderations of David Lynch psychotics laying right under the veneer of perfect middle class image.  What these two directors, and certainly Park share, is a deep-seeded resentment for unquestioned authoritative figures, particularly those of the patriarchal figure, in fact, it is no surprise that in all three directors' works women play key roles in plots alterations or doing away with negative forces.  However, Stoker takes the complexities of navigating such a world to new levels when he displays other women engaging in the oppression for their own selfish advancement.  I am, of course, referring to Evelyn who sees the emergence of Charlie as a perfect avenue for her to do away with the burdens of her dead husband, for whom she possessed very little love, as well as India, who she comes to loathe as a result of Charlie diverting his affections towards her.  India, unlike the other characters, seems always and at once aware of every vindictive and dangerous force in the world around her, whether it be some gross and easily enraged football players, or their friend who pretends to mean well, only to turn out to be equally violent.  India also sees symbols of authority as a threat, something that is initially foreshadowed with a cop who visits the Stoker home on a disappearance investigation, but figures again prominently into the film later.  It is, instead, when India must clearly make a statement about a person who is outright bad that she falters, yet, just as her father taught her when she was young, acts that may seem bad at the moment, could well prove to prevent something far worse from occurring.

Key Scene:  The shower scene...it is intensity taken to a new level.

This is the first real film of 2013 for me and it is quite excellent.  As I stated earlier, if this is a sign of the year to come, I am ready to embrace it passionately.

I Need You To Understand Why It Is Not Okay: Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011)

I had heard much talk about this decidedly independent film in 2011, but for a multitude of reason it went unwatched well after its initial release and farther into 2013, until I stumbled upon a copy at a local vinyl record store, making me realize that it was both a sign of it needing to be viewed, as well as a perfect addition to this month of women in film.  Initially I was uncertain about my feelings for this movie, I will admit that I thoroughly enjoyed it, but was cautious to give it praise for what may well have been nothing more than showy cinematography and layered metaphors, but this is not the case.  Between the absolutely phenomenal performances put on by the various members of the cast, as well as a non-linear yet forward moving plot, it is enough to make even the most inexperienced of cinephiles take note at its commitment to style and story.  It is a rare thing for a movie of this degree to be so realized, without sacrificing some degree of narrative quality in the process.  Director Sean Durkin used this film to come into the world of film in a big way, clearly taking no chances on the assumption that he would get follow up films, while certainly not as huge of a filmic statement as Beasts of the Southern Wild, Martha Marcy May Marlene, undoubtedly, offers viewers with something fresh and intense, without ever offering any sort of out or answer to its narrative twists and complexities.  It is challenging filmmaking at its finest, both easy to watch with its visual symmetry and sound styling, as well as equally challenging with its philosophical gravitas and societal condemnation.  Many speak of the best films allow viewers to enter a world of voluntary escapism in which they can ignore their problems, with a film like Martha Marcy May Marlene, the films images serve as a sort of counter-escapisim suggesting that much of what we do unconsciously avoids challenging our issues and misgivings.  This film asks those who engage with it to consider one woman's break from reality and reflect on what series of seemingly unrelated events could lead another person to doing the exact same thing.

Martha Marcy May Marlene while possessive of multiple title character names, focuses specifically on Martha (Elizabeth Olsen) a girl who has recently run away from some bizarre cult to seek a safe haven with her sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson) and her slightly conservative husband Ted (Hugh Dancy).  While there it is clear that she is far detached from societal norms, in her desire to sludge around doing nothing all day or going skinny dipping in the broad daylight while children swim only yards away.   It is quite obvious, however, that Martha's disconnect is very psychological as well, as the narrative often jumps, without warning, to her experiences while at the commune, which is headed by Patrick (John Hawkes) who manages to simultaneously be disgusting and charismatic.  While Patrick is decidedly the patriarchal figurehead of the entire commune, Martha finds herself becoming close with Katie (Maria Dizzia) one of the other women in the group who seems to have completely committed to the seemingly utopian world created by Patrick, who ends up renaming Martha to the oddly alliterative Marcy May and eventually drugging her as part of a cleansing ritual, which leads to him having sex with her while she is unconscious.  This already problematic event is followed by Martha being involved in an unusual case of breaking and entering where a man is killed in front of her own eyes, despite her clear condemnation for its occurrence.  This series of intense and unexplained events lead to Martha being in a state of absolute disarray, helping to explain her initial fleeing from the commune, yet even leaving proves of little benefit and when she breaks down during a party thrown by Lucy and Ted they decide to admit her to a mental ward.  On the last day of staying with her sister, Martha sees a man across the river, who looks eerily similar to Patrick.  Saying nothing about it the film then cuts to a shot of Martha in the back seat of Ted's car, where she witnesses the couple almost run over a man, who then walks buy the car, again his identity is uncertain and they may well be the person she saw on the riverbank, who may well have been Patrick.  The final shot of the film is Martha looking back slightly paranoid, as though to assure her safety a thing that is never verified.

There is a lot going on within Martha Marcy May Marlene, some focusing on social commentaries on indoctrination and escaping depression through conspicuous consumption, yet the major commentaries, and pertinent to this month of blogging, are those concerning gender politics, in direct opposition to unquestioned patriarchal rule.  Little is explained about Patrick as a cult leader, yet his reign and importance are unquestioned, much like patriarchy in its most institutionalized situations.  This sort of backwards looking traditionalism which one often associates with the patriarchy is reiterated with the communes seeming desire to return to the past in a sort of totalitarian one for all way of living.  I say totalitarian and not socialist, because one cannot read a layer of equality into the world Patrick has created, aside from his assurance that everyone will receive food and a place to stay, it is clear that males possess superiority within their society, and even this is subjected to a higher degree of respectability for Patrick who apparently gets first choice on the new women in the commune.  Martha is clearly distraught from this experience and has trouble possessing a sexual identity afterwards, one that seems stuck in a sort of childlike state of exposure and social misdirection, she even wets herself at one point in the movie and instead of cleaning up the mess and telling her sister, she simply hides the stained dress under the bed, her shame is clearly a result of her negative sexual experiences, but her ability to deal with them is reflective of a person not mentally mature enough to understand her own issues.  It would be one thing if the commune were vilified and her safe place with her sister were idealized, however, both seem intent on pushing Martha towards normalcy, in which she accepts her own dependence on male figures.  Martha Marcy May Marlene is a film about oppression from many directions and a woman drowning whilst trying to navigate the tumultuous waters.

Key Scene:   The party scene is teaming with intensity and only one moment of many in which I became completely captivated by the monotonous, yet purposeful, pacing of the film.

I am quite fond of this movie, but realize that it may not be for everyone.  I would suggest renting the bluray specifically though because it is a beautifully shot film.

It Has Nothing To Do With The Hall-u-cen-o-gens: Seven Psychopaths (2012)

The hyper-masculine world of the works of Martin McDonagh have been criticized for their terribly misguided use of gender as a means to appropriate hipness and violence, and while this criticism certainly holds a degree of validity, I would contest that artistically speaking, McDonagh's male-oriented films exist partially as a undermining of masculine dominance, as well as a reappropriation of gender divides, ones that cause the male figures to immediately accept the illogical nature of their existing within a wholly single gendered dichotomy, after all, McDonagh is coming out of a post-war Ireland that still seems uncertain on its own future, certainly as it relates to a male ideology.  Furthermore, the detractors of McDonagh's work seem quick to attack the unconventional playwright and filmmaker, without giving equal consideration to the work of Tarantino or Mamet who engage in similar practices with, often less guided motives.  It is rather clear that MacDonagh uses his hyper violence, hyper-masculinity and penchant for political incorrectness, as a means to create a conversation through the absurdity, essentially not much different than the way in which Stephen Colbert uses a falsely absurdist variation of conservatism to undermine the illogical nature of the outdated mode of thinking.  Sure it will be difficult for Seven Psychopaths to obtain the sort of cult following that MacDonagh's earlier work In Bruges received, but this is near entirely a result of the film being championed from the get go by fans of the playwright turned directors earlier work, not to mention the casting of a decidedly cult oriented cast with Waits, Walken and to some degree Harrelson.  What can be said in relation to the directors earlier work is that it takes a decidedly poetic turn in the closing moments of the film, something that In Bruges certainly does, however, in the metacinematic nature of this most recent film by McDonagh, the viewer is provided with very clear foreshadowing to such events, although no amount of preparation truly informs how badass a McDonagh shootout will prove to be, certainly not the multiple and multifaceted ones within Seven Psychopaths.

Seven Psychopaths, like a class McDonagh offering, begins in the hyper-violent and only excels from there with the introduction of a masked killer known as the One'Eyed Jack killer, who is apparently one of seven psychopaths who are to comprise the plot, the title of which is to be the inspiration for the films main protagonist the writer aptly named Marty (Colin Farrell) who is struggling formulating his script aside from knowing that it includes a vengeful Amish man and a suicidal ex-Vietcong.  In fact, his relatively absurd plot seems mundane compared to the unusual job of his friend Billy (Sam Rockwell) and his partner Hans (Christopher Walken) who specialize in dog kidnapping to obtain larger reward money.  Unfortunately, Hans and Billy make the mistake of kidnapping a dog named Bonnie who happens to belong to a high end mob boss named Charlie (Woody Harrelson) a man whose devotion to his puppy is so great that he undertakes a veritable killing spree to assure its safety.  All the while, Marty attempts to properly formulate his script, taking inspiration from the events surrounding the dog, as well as the newspaper articles about the One'Eyed Jack killer, not to mention meeting other psychopaths along the way, particularly the enigmatic Zachariah who, along with his former lover, took it upon themselves to be serial killers of serial killers.  Needless to say, no matter how well Billy, Hans, and eventually Marty, cover their tracks Charlie chases them down, although at this point it is a meeting well-embraced by the crew, especially Billy who believes the shootout to be the perfect ending to Marty's script one with a ton of gore and the quick destruction of Charlie.  Yet when the actual shootout occurs it pans out considerably differently, with a varying set of deaths and a damn perfect use of music.  Luckily for Marty, a message left on a voice recorder helps Marty to find a perfect idea for his films closing moments, although an intercut after the credits begin remind Marty of some of his failed obligations, which may or may not have some deathly results.

What then is the moral/social commentary/philosophical pondering of McDonagh's most recent offering.  It is certainly not a poignant reflection on the state of violence within a global community, because many of the characters fail to be reprimanded for their agressive choices, just as it is certainly in no way an evocation of gender equality, as the female characters within the film serve as narrative boosts for some of the more reserved characters, but with that in mind it also does not create a clear divide between those who are inherently good and those who have a chance to be good, but succumb to the bribery and falsity of wrongdoing, which seems so integral to In Bruges.  Instead, within Seven Psychopaths, McDonagh appears to draw a line between those who are the necessary observers and recorders of change and revolution and those to are direct harbingers in its occurrence.  As the narrative reveals, Billy is actually the One'Eyed Jack killer and sees violence as an absolutely legitimate way to deal with the wrong in the world.  Destruction, to Billy, is the only way to assure the cessation of evil.  As for Marty, he seems far more inspired by considering how this corruption or insanity evolves and emerges, often becoming so lost in its possibilities and misguiding that he clings to alcohol as a means of coping.  In the middle ground are the characters like Hans who seems to traipse perfectly between Billy and Marty's methodologies, thus creating a sort of aggressive passiveness (which I have decided is distinctly different from somebody being passive aggressive)  that can drive a guilty person to take their life out of fear and frustration, not to mention Zachariah who clearly cannot come to deals with his passivity in the face of his aggressive lovers violence, although his choice not to be aggressive when his lover was actively killing a man takes on an aggressive connotation, because he clearly has come to disapprove of those actions.  Thus the closing scene involving a self-imolationg Buddhist monk takes  on another level, in so much, as he is engaging actively in an act that is intended to be passive resistance against the war, even if completely self-destructive.  All of this, of course, results in some unusual religious and social commentaries, but I think it only proves the intense and introspective elements of this film without question.

Key Scene:  Waken, voice recorder, fire and considering of sexual-orientation terms...what more could one ask for in a film.

An action heavy film with quite a glorious soundtrack, Seven Psychopaths is a bluray purchases through and through.

I'm An Apex Predator: Chronicle (2012)

I am constantly in the favor of the found footage genre, as has been proven through many reviews on this blog, beginning with my surprised fondness of the Paranormal Activity film, and more recently considering one of the breakout films of 2012 in V/H/S, in fact, between a hopefully final fourth installment to the Paranormal Activity franchise, along with the other previously mentioned film it was already a highly touted year for the found footage film, add the surprisingly watchable and incredibly bold Chronicle to the mix and you do indeed having something decidedly revolutionary within the genre, begging for a push towards something grander, more artistic, but still considerably underacted. Hell, I have yet to see End of Watch and while it has not received rave reviews it sounds as though it is worth checking out and certainly not void of value, especially when considering that it incorporates a rather strict use of the found footage mentality.  While the story within Chronicle is admittedly forced and somewhat overembelished, especially in the closing scenes which are the best portion of the film, despite technically breaking the found footage barrier for a couple of shots, it is something quite enjoyable to watch.  Josh Trank makes the use of CGI, heavy special effects and clever camera tricks seem quite well-integrated and demands that the unique and often mocked genre possess some degree of respectability, even, I dare say, artistic credibility.  One could certainly make the argument when it comes to Chronicle, as a good portion of the scenes seem more appropriate for a experimental art house film than what is essentially a deconstructionists consideration of the superhero film.  Trank really does something special by making both the characters and the camera they use a thing to move through and around the space, considering the supernatural as a thing experience both within the filmic space as well as, I  would argue, transcendent of it, especially relating to the way the camera is decidedly fixated on one character's experiences, even when he is removed from the control of its movement.

Chronicle begins with an introduction to Andrew Detmer (Dane DeHaan) a social pariah of sorts who figures that the best means for dealing with his abusive father and deathly ill mother is to take up a video chronicle of his life, one that is all but hopeful, as it becomes apparent that besides being quite downtrodden by his home life, Andrew is also victim to constant bullying and degradation at school.  In fact, were it not for his loose relationship with his cousin Matt Garetty (Alex Russell), Andrew would be entirely void of any quantifiable friendships.  During a party one night, in which Matt invites Andrew in hopes of breaking him out of his shell Andrew ends up being victim to yet another bout of bullying at the hands of an individual who assumes his videotaping to be some sort of voyeuristic perversion.  Awaking from being knocked unconscious Matt and his friend Steve Montgomery (Michael B. Jordan) demand that Andrew brings his camera to an underground passage where they discover some bizarre crystal formation that glows a variety of different colors.  During this moment, the crystal explodes in some bizarre light formation blowing the trio away onto the ground and the tape then cuts to the group experimenting with new powers that allow them to apparently telekinetically control the objects around them.  Reveling in their enjoyment it becomes obvious that the powers can have positive and negative consequences, whether it be to boost their sex lives, or to cause a belligerent driver to go veering off the road into a lake.  In hopes that they can keep their new powers a secret and avoid any conflict, Matt suggests making rules against using the powers on people, and certainly demands that they do not use them when angry.  Yet, Andrew whose powers do not equate to an increase in social status begins using his telekenisis against bullies and even his own father, and act that leads to accidentally killing Steve.  In a moment of last ditch desperation attempts to use them to rob a convenience store, only to cause a shotgun to accidentally blow up a propane tank, landing the angry Andrew in the hospital.  It is here that his father berates him again, only this time Andrew's rage explodes into an uncontrollable mess and Matt attempts to stop him, leading to a rather intense telekinetic shootout through the skies of Seattle.  Matt realizes that it is necessary to kill Andrew in order to save the entire city, doing so defeated and saddened, although in a touching final scene, Matt travels to a place where the trio agreed to go with their new powers, asking for his deceased cousins forgiveness and understanding.

Chronicle, like so many movies I have reviewed recently appears to be a multitude of things, perhaps a commentary on mental handicap and learning to embrace it within an individual, or even a statement about youth and their attachment to a technological world.  Hell, it is even on a very basic level a run-of-the-mill high school coming of age story, yet what I cannot stop considering is the manner in which the film clearly fixates itself on the woes of bullying and understanding the effects such ignorant behavior can have on an individual and the way in which they engage with the world around them.  It is a pertinent topic for this year and one that clearly needs to always be considered within films marketed at this age group, it was not but about a half a year ago that a college student took his life after discovering that his roommate videotaped him engaging in intercourse with a partner of the same sex, ultimately, shaming him in the process.  It is no doubt that the degree of bullying occurring within Chronicle has a certain amount of heightened intensity to it, after all, it is a piece of action cinema, but one cannot ignore the lack of parental figures around the school to take a strict stance against such actions, not to mention the complete nonexistence of a welcoming environment for Andrew outside of the public space.  In fact, one must note that it is not until he is literally able to fly away from his problems that he claims to be enjoying his life, yet as the narrative suggests, even these moments of escapism do not mean complete removal from his very grounded and very real issues, many of which center on his own internalized failures as a masculine figure.  Certainly, it is during a party in which he fails to consummate a sexual act that even Steve and Matt criticize him, undoubtedly, leading to his downfall and breaking off from any sort of sane connection to the world.  While the narrative could certainly have ended with Andrew taking his own life or something in that vein, it chooses another equally viable outcome, the enacted social rage against those in the world around him.  Andrew attacks everything, because in his bullied eyes everything is his enemy and it is really hard not to say that the individuals involved did not have it coming.  It is a film that severely critiques unbridled othering and degrading of individuals, calling for an embracing of those even the most wildly different in society.  A pertinent film now, but hopefully not forever.

Key Scene:  While the closing battle does technically break from the found footage tradition momentarily, it manages to stay true to it to a considerable degree and makes for solid fifteen minutes in which my eyes never left the screen.

If you love found footage films this is certainly a new level stylistically and is something of considerable notoriety.  I would suggest snagging the gorgeous looking bluray if you have the finances.

You Have Poor Social Skills. You Have A Problem: Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Silver Linings Playbook may prove to be the biggest surprise for me from 2012, not because it is a particularly revolutionary film, or because it came out of nowhere as a huge surprise in filmmaking.  I enjoy David O. Russell, however, the seemingly onslaught of praise directed at this film, not to mention  the claims that it was deserved of every Oscar possible had me a little uncertain, particularly considering that it is essentially a dark romantic comedy.  Why then is it my biggest surprise of last year, well...I would have to say it has everything to do with it proving to be a really great film, regardless of me rooting heavily against it before ever watching even the trailer.  I am honestly trying to be better about actually viewing and considering a work before dismissing it completely, and has proven to benefit my opinion of a work like Silver Linings Playbook, as well as something like American Pie awhile back, although it does prove at many times to confirm my preconceived notions about the film, which is certainly the case with Gone With The Wind.  Hell, who knows, maybe this dedication to seeing before judging will eventually get me around to actually watching a Tyler Perry movie, but I know the likelihood of that is quite minimal.  I say all this digressing from the actual film at hand, which is a rather raw and subtly experimental film by the now well-established David O. Russell who proves to be  impossible to categorize as far as genre is concerned, making everything from his most recent film to the excellent The Fighter, as well as Three Kings, a war movie that I have heard only praise towards.  In a year that saw a lot of directors playing within their comfort zones what Russell offers in Silver Linings Playbook is not only out of the norm for himself, but for many of the performers as well, and while it is certainly not the flawless film people seem so sure it is, I will say that it is certainly worth viewing and evident of what is possible within in the comedic genre, both as a means to make audiences laugh, as well as a way to consider some of the more troubled aspects of a decaying traditionalist society.

Silver Linings Playbook focuses primarily on Pat (Bradley Cooper) an ex-substitute teacher who is being released from a psychiatric ward after being placed their for nearly beating a man to death after discovering him having sex with his wife in the shower.  Pat struggles to maintain any degree of normalcy after this event, especially considering that any sensory experience from the trauma triggers rage within him associated with that event, a particular Stevie Wonder song serving as a perfect example.  Knowing his serious condition, Pat's parents Dolores (Jackie Weaver) and Pat Sr. (Robert De Niro) walk on eggshells around him, although Pat Sr.'s involvement with bookie work after the loss of his pension leads to some very heavy stress within the household.  Regardless of this, Pat seeks safety running in the streets and attempting to get in mental and physical shape in order to win back his wife.  Of course, this task is not easy considering that Pat attempts to avoid taking medication and is so mentally distressed that he has convinced himself of his wife's certain forgiveness.  At a party for Pat's recovery Pat meets a sister of a friends wife named Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence) who is facing her own psychological troubles after the loss of her husband.  The two instantly create a derisive chemistry mocking one another in their mental duress, yet clearly drawn to each other in a more than platonic way.  Tiffany convinces Pat that she is capable of assuring communication with his wife, despite a restraining order if he is willing to, in turn, serve as a partner for her in a dance competition.  Needless to say this task proves challenging, both in regards to their respective mental issues, as well as a slew of outside forces attempting to interfere, all culminating into their performance that, at this point in the narrative, has taken on a more than recreational element and indeed possesses very high stakes.  All the while Pat's wife has decided to make an appearance and see how he is doing, much the the dismay of Tiffany, although as the closing moments of the film suggest Pat may have grown to understand his own relationship to his troublesome past, as well as his own necessary detachment from it as well.

This movie takes the possibility of mental breakdown very seriously, positing that it only takes the right troublesome event to lead a person into a depressed self-destructive existence and is something that I think often fails to be appropriately considered within cinema, as was certainly the case with the terribly uninsipring Young Adult.  Sure the whiteness of Silver Linings Playbook, as well as the economic safety of the characters involved should not be ignored, yet it has no qualms showing the very destructive actions a person suffering from complete mental decay goes through, whether it be dangerous sexual engagements, or working out to the point of counter productivity, Russell makes it quite clear that people can snap and when they do it is necessary for those around them to become exceptionally unified.  Much of Silver Linings Playbook then becomes not about Pat and Tiffany's own struggle with their psyches, but instead; a film about those close to them learning to help their psyches evolve back to something remotely normal, at least this is certainly the case between Pat and his brother who seems to think that he can cheer his troubled brother up by boasting on his own successes.  Although the true narrative evolution comes via Pat Sr. whose own failures as a paternal figure have led to him being overly aggressive in stress, yet his has not resulted in the injury of another individual, therefore, he has not been othered by society like his son, although there are moments in the narrative where one considers whether or not he is more insane.  Eventually, however, it is Pat Sr. coming to his own senses about his failures and missteps that drives a major portion of the narrative along and makes viewers consider mental breakdowns and equally problematic mental barriers as they relate to interpersonal communication in the familial sense, one of the main underlying elements in this exceptional dark comedy.

Key Scene:  I am, and always will be, a sucker for Bob Dylan and the use of "Girl from North Country" in this film was beyond stellar.

Movie theater, go now. It helps one to appreciate this film if they see it with others around.

Where Is Your Male Driven, Fact-Based Logic Now?: Red Eye (2005)

I am enjoying the recent string of thriller/horror films I have been encountering, in so much as quite a few have proven to be rather incredible pieces of social commentary and genuinely enjoyable genre works.  More so, viewing quite a few of the movies have been in an attempt to expand my film consumption to more middle-of-the-road works that I had dismissed upon initial release based on either their trailer or assumedly lackluster premise.  Red Eye was certainly a movie that I scoffed at upon its initial introduction, a vague trailer about plane hijacking and a then unknown to me actor named Cillian Murphy simply did not prove enough to make a, then film illiterate, teen venture to undertake the film.  However, as I have come to appreciate both the theoretical approaches, as well as the means by which films are created, I must admit that I was quite enthralled by Wes Craven's surprisingly non-violent horror film.  To be honest, it is nowhere near a perfect film and certainly suffers from some wishy-washy performances, mostly on the part of Rachel McAdams and clearly has some plot gaps in an effort to make it a quick fix thriller, but the creation of tension within a small amount of space for more than a half of the film.  I have also been quite unfamiliar with how to conceptualize what is becoming an extensive field of post-9/11 cinema discussions, most of which center on disaster and horror films, Cloverfield being perhaps the most notable example.  I mean to say that as a film Red Eye works in the collective memory of viewers who have a particular concern for depictions of terrorist attacks, especially those centered around flying.  Of course this is not the only extent to which something exists within the post-9/11 framework, but I will elaborate on that in a bit.  Regardless of how one discusses Red Eye theoretically or critically, it is nearly impossible to discount how solid of a thriller it proves to be by combining some of the traditional methods of horror/thriller filmmaking along with just enough of an espionage twist to provide for a film that is as fresh now as it was almost a decade earlier.

Red Eye begins with the act of a wallet unassumingly being moved from a dresser drawer, quite ineffectually, before viewers are introduced to Lisa Reisert (Rachel McAdams) a headstrong hotel manager, who knows the ins-and-outs of working in the customer service industry so much so that she is able to guide her seemingly inept employee through dealing with particularly unruly customers while also reeling in the emotions from recently attending her grandmothers funeral.  Meanwhile Lisa is subject to the constant inquiries and concerns of her loving father Joe (Brian Cox) as he knows she is under heavy amounts of stress both from her recent loss, as well as the preparing for a big name political guest.  The addition of plane delays only add to her headache and all seems quite set for a spiral into emotional insanity, until a man named Jack (Cillian Murphy) appears.  Jack's natural charm and seeming ability to predict Lisa's every concern and hesitation causes her to spring at the opportunity to seek solace in his lack of frustration.  While they simply share a bit of chatter over drinks at the airport bar, it is not until Lisa realizes that they will be sitting next to one another on the flight that she feels the connection to be more than a coincidence.  Jack continues his charm well onto their flight, but once they reach an altitude were landing is out of the question, Jack's persona takes a dark turn as he reveals that he has been stalking Lisa in order to blackmail her into moving the high profile guest into another room of her apartment allowing his fellow hired hands to kill him for big name clients.  The narrative then moves into Lisa and Jack's battle for the safety of the guest, as well as Lisa's father who is being carefully watched by another hitman prepared to kill him if she fails to adhere to Jack's demands.  Quick wits and determination allow for Lisa to escape from Jack when the plane lands, as well as allowing for her guest to avoid death, but she is not free of Jack quite yet as his desire to succeed at his job is superseded by revenge, although with the help of her father, Lisa is able to get the best of the insane man and return to her job, however, her ways of dealing with unruly customers are certifiably different.

What then makes Red Eye a specifically post-9/11 thriller aside from the obvious ties to airplanes and the threat of political terrorism, well, in order, to really conceptualize this we must first consider how Craven formulates characters within the narrative, primarily Lisa who is the protagonist within Red Eye.  It is no accident that she is returning from a funeral at the films beginning a indirect reminder of the deaths occurring on that tragic day, yet she is also attached to various psychiatric consultations and forms of depression, initially suggested by her father and reaffirmed by Jack who mentions her relationship with psychiatrist, while not directly mentioned this could have a post-traumatic element about it, in so much as it is a character attempting to deal with the irrationalities of her existence against an illogical humanity that could in her case be so cold and distancing, but also so inhumane as to blow up buildings.  The various persons on the plane as well as some of her hotel's customers help to reconsider the face of America in the wake of the terrorist attacks, particularly the means by which frustration, paranoia and a general concern for escapism emerge within the parts of the narrative focusing on the airport and the airplane.  Hell, even the flight attendants make comments about their self-identies and their projected social identity with heavy post-9/11 implications.  However, the largest element that can be drawn from this ideology emerges through the reasons for Jack's violent actions, for  a better portion of the film they revolve around financial gain, although even he is unsure why a political figure would need to be murdered, he simply understands there is profit to be made in volunteering to assure its execution.  The factual nature of the desired acts, without a theoretical framework for doing so certainly emerges within a post-9/11 discourse considering that America was well aware that they needed to exact revenge upon their wrong doers, yet were not sure of were exactly to do so, nor how to best achieve this, leading to a series of financially heavy actions with a mixed bag of results.  Finally, it is no accident that the attempted assassination is directed at a whole family, invoking an American ideal in the process, not to mention the Russian mercenaries engaging in said assassination attempt, using a RPG of all things.  I have yet to do any formal research on post-9/11 film theory, as I am sure this post shows, but I just wanted to conceptualize some of its points as they seemed fit to Red Eye in a multitude of ways.

Key Scene:  The tension in the power outage scene on the airplane is palpable and certainly not the only emotionally heavy moment in the film, which again relies so little on heavy violence to get viewers anticipations heightened.

This is a cheap pickup on DVD and at the moment no bluray appears to exist, nonetheless, it is a solid fixture in any collection, either well-established or burgeoning, and like so many reviews seem to agree, do not trust the trailer for this film, it completely fails to sell what your really receive with this excellent work.

Documents Never Lie: Memories Of Murder (2003)

For somebody who has become a self-proclaimed academic on South Korean cinema, it has been quite awhile since I have reviewed or even watched anything from the country, which led me to dive into Memories of Murder, an early offering from one of my favorite South Korean directors Bong Joon-ho, probably best known for his massively realized monster movie The Host, if not for his spastic and cinematic Mother.  The later, as well as Memories of Murder, focus heavily on violent crimes and catching the culprits, however, where Bong avoids reality and grounding in his later work he seems completely at ease with depicting an uncomfortable amount of realness in his early work.  Memories of Murder is wickedly funny, while never failing to remind viewers that rape and murder are real acts, often, if not always, leading to the untimely death of those attacked, in this case every one being woman.  Bong is such a stellar director that even when noting that the film is based on true events, he manages to create such a gripping and melodramatic narrative that it is hard not to get lost in the spectacle and execution of the film, its elaborate nature and seemingly layered element of deception cause viewers to justifiably assume the work to be entirely fiction.  However, one may feel about the events depicted in the film, or whether Bong was even justified in portraying such freshly given wounds on screen, one cannot deny the means with which he uses this narrative to paint a picture of divides in Korea that still haunt the continually progressing nation.  Set, for the most part, in 1986, the film represents a rural area of South Korea, clearly affected by colonization, but not via a physical presence.  Bong, in Memories of Murder, creates a film that contests notions of identity and assumed privilege, particularly as it relates to notions of masculinity, age and education.  So very realized is this film, that one often has trouble situating its time period, as it is clearly not intended to visually represent contemporary Korea, yet the visual realm is not archaic either, instead existing in some area of transcendent cinematic space where metaphor and meaning are undoubtedly universal.


Memories of Murder begins, as should be no surprise, with the discovery of yet another raped and murdered body, in what has become a string of violent attacks in a rural South Korean community.  The main figure in the investigation proves to be Detective Park (Kang-ho Song) a traditionalist as far as detective work goes, although he is not adverse to twisting the words of suspects to assure the moving along of his investigations.  Park's partner Detective Cho (Roe-ha Kim) on the other hand seems to resort to violence at the flip of a hat, assuming that he can beat a confession out of any person he assumes to be guilty.  There wily tactics yield little results, mostly because they lack proper higher police education, which leads to the calling in of a Seoul based detective named Detective Seo (Sang-Kyung Kim) whose main objective appears to be linking the crimes into a series of murders enacted by a single serial killer.  Seo and Park constantly but heads, mostly as a result of Park's pride and desire to retain an alpha dog status, something Seo's intelligence seems quick to threaten.  However, as the clues begin the collect and the dueling detectives realize that one another possess some undeniable investigation skills, they slowly piece together a list of legitimate suspects and even chase down a variety of other criminals in the process.  Yet when they come to a standstill as a result of waiting for the FBI, who possess far better technology, to analyze some DNA, another murder occurs, driving Park specifically to chase the assumed culprit down himself.  Park, Seo and the assumed criminal meeting an an intense semi-shootout at a train tunnel entrance, only to be forced to let the suspect go when it is shown that they only possess inconclusive evidence.  The narrative then moves to the present as Park revisits a crime scene, only to be told by a passing girl that another man had been there only moments earlier, perhaps the killer whose whereabouts remain unknown even today.

It is hard to make any definitive statement about Memories of Murder in regards to critical theory, as so much of Bong's intent is clearly a result of his personal conviction in calling attention to the fact that this  killer has yet to face justice.  The clear choice of the camera to linger on the beaten and bruised bodies of the victims is an all to visceral call to demand that justice be sought with little rest during the process. Of course, to overanalyze this element of the film would be counterproductive, because the very act of Bong making the film proves this argument valid.  Instead, it is far more interesting to consider the way masculinity serves as a point of contention in the film, especially between Park and Seo whose desire to catch the killer seems more to do with selfish pride than with proctoring justice, especially for Park who has his communal identity to maintain. It is then no coincidence that all the victims in the film are women, one's who cannot defend against an intensely aggressive masculine antagonist, ultimately, causing Park and others to serve as saviors to a weaker sex, a problematic underlying issue of internalized oppression invariably emerges.  It is also interesting to consider the suspects when reading it through a masculinity critique, as it is clear all of Park and Seo's suspects appear to engage in varying degrees of gender betrayal/transgression, whether it be one culprit who dons women's underwear for sexual gratification, or another suspect whose telling feature is his unusually soft hands, something which is the result of his job in clerical work.  The final confrontation of the train emerging from the tunnel as a means of losing their assumed victim then takes a clear phallic meaning as it explodes out of the entrance severing any possibility of apprehending the suspect.  Masculine oppression is at the root of crime in this film, however, it is also the barrier that results in a killer never being found, in fact, the only persons who seem to be able to clearly identify the perpetrator are females, unfortunately, their voice in the narrative is relegated or ignored even in the closing moments, a masterful and biting commentary by Bong no doubt.

Key Scene:  There is a confrontation between Seo and Park in a karaoke bar in which they are both peeling bananas.  The biting nature and satirical composition of this moment hand me bursting at the seams with laughter.

This is certainly one of the premier films in South Korean cinema's history and it is somewhat pricey on Amazon, yet purchasing a copy is well worth the money, it is seriously a spectacular film.