It Was A Gold Doubloon, Minted In Spain: The Fog (1980)

I know in the years that I have been writing this blog, I have endlessly bemoaned the notion of the "seminal classic" one that has gained a unquestioned reputation and has become hailed as the be all and end all of a certain type of film, this often holds most true in the realm of the horror film, wherein works like The Exorcist and Psycho remain standards, the veritable Beatles or Rolling Stones of the genre.  Indeed, these works deserve such praise for their continual ability to captivate and challenge cinema goes despite being decades old.  Indeed, I would even argue that these works, much like King Kong or Singin' in the Rain suffer from over-hyping to the point where people thing they have already seen a film through some cultural referencing.  However, for todays film I am not particularly interested in these films, but instead ones that were quite evocative for their time, either for reconstituting the genre or for adding a fresh perspective to its possibilities.  Indeed, John Carpenter did just this when he released Halloween in two years prior to The Fog.  Halloween, a film I reviewed last year during this same marathon, stands up and indeed offers itself as a textbook on how to make a proper thriller heavy slasher film.  So when two years later the now well-regarded director offered The Fog it seems as though people consumed it gladly almost as though it were inseparable from its predecessor.  This is all not to say that The Fog is a terrible movie, indeed, it has some quite moody moments and the special effects are beyond stellar.   However, the film is undeniably dated, particularly in its dry sense of comedy a thing still attempting to navigate itself from the seventies minimalism to the overly done style of the eighties.  The tragedy of this film is that it seems to play it same on certain themes or stylistic choices, perhaps signs of budgeting choices, or s simple fact that producers, and probably Carpenter felt more safe going with methodologies that already proved successful.  There is a trajectory about Carpenter's films, at least this is clearly the case in Halloween and The Thing, wherein things start a bit weird and end up in a state of absolute insanity, this same methodology is at work in The Fog, but the attempt and resolution and, subsequent, undermining of this sense of safety is so wrought with heavy-handed nonsensical elements as to make the movie fall short of its assumed cult status.

The Fog focuses on the town of Antonio Bay in California, who are on the precipice of celebrating their towns centennial, despite a night of bizarre events in the town including objects moving about inexplicably and glass shattering.  The towns folk react in various manners, whether it be Stevie Wayne (Adrienne Barbeau) a late night radio disc jockey whose only concern is the safety of her son, or hitchhiker Elizabeth (Jamie Lee Curtis) whose happenstance wandering into Antonio Bay seems to be far from lucky.  It is not, however, until a local clipper ship goes off the radar for an entire night and is rediscovered in a state that would suggest it had been underwater for months that people begin to get truly suspicious, particularly local politician Kathy Williams (Janet Leigh) and her assistant Sandy (Nancy Kyes) who take it upon themselves to track down the local priest Father Malone (Hal Holbrook) whose has gone into hiding upon a discovery of a journal from a century ago that explains the manner with which the early settlers of Antonio Bay purposefully banished a group of lepers from their community for their disease, completely ignoring the willingness of the lepers to live on the outskirts of the town in the first place.  Paired with this history of oppression and a constantly moving fog through the town, it is revealed that this glowing spectral fog entity carries with it a group of undead killers, who strike during the witching hour.  The town afforded this information, or a degree of it at least, manages to spend a day undertaking preventative measures to deny a larger attack, whether it be Stevie moving her son away from a piece of possessed wood he found while walking about the shore, or for Father Malone to attempt and quell the understandably disgruntled spirits of years gone by.  Needless to say, the preparation, while beneficial still does not stifle an attack completely and the various skeptics remaining in the town fall victim to the ghost attacks, most notably Stevie's romantic love interest a local meteorologist, thus leading to a near fulfillment of the late leper's prophecy that six individuals must die to make the initial loss complete.  However, those with a passion for living and a purpose manage to survive accordingly, although in the closing moments of the film it is made rather clear that not all who thought themselves save actually find this to be true.

As I write the somewhat vague synopsis, I am realizing one of the other elements of this particular Carpenter film that made it one of my less exciting viewing experiences.  Having seen Halloween, Dark Star and The Thing, I recall them all centering their narratives either in specifically personal or decidedly confined spaces.  For example, what makes Halloween work so well is that it is almost entirely a confrontation between Michael Myers and Laurie, who is the primary focus of the film.  Sure this film does branch out and show other characters meeting their demise and includes shots of what viewers presume to be Myers following her, but the narrative always returns to her experiences.  In a slightly similar sense, the narratives of Dark Star and The Thing work because they happen in a very small, almost claustrophobic space.  The former, existing in a state of paranoia predicated upon a spaceship that is both a source of constant protection, while also threatening to fall part (indeed as it does) at any moment.  The Thing is scary, precisely because it takes place in the confines of the Arctic, proving, yet again confining, and the horror of every person involved becoming a point of paranoia due to a quickly spreading only adds to this inescapability.  Sure, The Fog is situated within a singular community, but the manner with which Carpenter brings outsiders into this space, or branches out to the very limits of this space become somewhat frustrating to a film that possesses a feeling of frustrating disjointed narratives.  I would posit that to a considerable degree The Fog is at least three different films that were forced together around the premise of one idea of horror, making the impending fog mean different things for the persons involved, none of which carry enough weigh to make the larger film work.  If I did, however, have to chose one for which I wished Carpenter had solely pursued, it would, undoubtedly, be that of Stevie and her son, particularly the sort of anxiety surrounding the discovery of the plank of wood.  Without the excessive narratives of the clipper ship and Father Malone, the impending fog as being solely attached to this wood and thus extending as a metaphor to Stevie's anxiety as a single mother would become brilliant.  Indeed, it would even help to explain some of her dialogue throughout the film.  Unfortunately, this is not the film made available and as such it lacks a high degree of cohesion.

Key Scene:  There are some shots of the fog approaching that work on a great special effects level visually, even for the outdated technology at play.  The soundtrack is also quite nice.

I would watch this purely in terms of becoming a horror classics completist, hopefully, it will prove a far less disappointing experience than I had.

The Old Fear The Strength Of The Youth: Fist of Legend (1994)

I knew going into this kung fu marathon that expecting great acting would be somewhat foolish, because for many of these films the action is intended to trump the narrative, not to mention most of the films are dubbed anyways so any hope at discerning a decent performance is near impossible.  Perhaps that is what allowed for Fist of Legend to be such a different experience from what I have viewed thus far.  It is not an excellent film, but is certainly above average, possessing some of the best choreography I have seen yet, while also presenting it within the context of a historical moment in which national distrust ran rampant.  The narrative falters throughout and, ultimately, does not deliver in a cohesive manner, but what is lost in this department is absolutely made up first in the aforementioned choreography that is nothing short of perfect and in the performances of the actors who approach their roles with a degree of sincerity and poise that is often not associated with an action oriented period piece and certainly not one with martial arts as its central driving force.  While all the performers are top notch it is Jet Li who absolutely brings it here and makes whatever narrative cohesion that lacks work by adding a degree of authority and believability to the entire cause.  While I would say this was a bit of a surprise, in that for some time I had written Li off as an action star (although I love Hero so I should have known better), it was when I caught up with the blind buy of Ocean Heaven that I truly realized that Jet Li had acting chops.  In Ocean Heaven he plays a struggling, single working class father whose task in life is to take care of his mentally challenged son.  A film where the melodramatic would have sufficed, Li makes a choice to go minimal and it makes all the difference.  I am glad that I had this film in my catalogue,  because it now allows me to reconsider Li's performances when I run into them in different contexts and specifically helped me to realize that in Fist of Legend he brings this same degree of minimalism to his performance, allowing the characters words to have a decided degree of authority and gravitas.  Furthermore, considering that it is a subdued performance, one unconsciously allows it to juxtapose with the wild fight scenes adding intensity to them, while also reinforcing the mentally serene character Li plays.

Fist of Legend is set in 1930's Shanghai when the large city was heavily occupied by countries as a result of an ensuing war, most notably the British and Japanese presence that forced Chinese citizens to follow the rules and expectations of their country, regardless of rights to land and space.   One such person experiencing this absurd occupation is Chen Zhen (Jet Li) a Chinese student studying engineering at a Japanese school.  When he is approached by a group of unruly Japanese martial art students who want to kick him out simply because he is Chinese, he reveals himself to be an expert martial arts expert, much to the frustration of the young fighters, but to the elation of their sensei Funakochi Fumio (Yasuaki Kurata) who has come with rather tragic news of the death of Chen's own master during a martial arts bout with a rival dojo.  Stunned Chen immediately leaves to return to his dojo only to discover it is moral disarray as the master's son Ting'en (Chin Siu-ho) desperately attempts to establish his authority.  After Chen approaches the leader of the dojo that killed his master, the lack of skill possessed leads him to believe that foul play likely led to his death.  Ordering an autopsy, it is quickly revealed that Chen's master was indeed poisoned resulting in the final straw that breaks sense of decency and order within the dojo.  Chen, realizing that to follow the order of challenges and authority will never result in justice he begins a personal quest to avenge the death of his late master, one that leads to a discovery of internal betrayal and political corruption.  In the midst of his quest for justice, Chen is framed in the murder of the dojo master with whom he challenged and heads to court to defend his name, it is during this endeavor that it is revealed that he has been involved with a Japanese woman, leading to his banishing from the dojo, who feel that such an act betrays his entire nation and training.  Accepting this he takes his Japanese girlfriend and moves to the countryside assuming that he can no longer aid in the process of vengeance, yet when he is visited by Funakochi and eventually Ting'en he is convinced that his presence is necessary, as they head to attack the mastermind behind his master's death the general Go Fujita (Billy Chow) who has earned the appropriate name Killing Machine.  After a confrontation that is wildly violent and destructive, Chen comes out on top, using his newly learned defensive attacks to topple the aggressive fighter.  This endeavor earns the admiration of a Japanese ambassador and further gains him a right to move about the occupied Shanghai with considerably more freedom.

While it would be quite easy to read this as a text solely concerned with imperialism, it would be somewhat easy and merely result in a rehashing of the plot, which has already occurred above.  Although it is worth noting that the film really only considers issues of colonization as they affect the male body, while depicting the female body as submissive and supportive to the masculine struggles.  Nevertheless, the film exists as a larger consideration of the issues of class and agency, one where group mobilization only serves a certain degree of productivity, when one is versing a person with considerable wealth or political power.  Indeed Chen, despite his ability to attend engineering school, reflects a person of lower class status, coming up as an orphan and earning his respect through physical labor, at least metaphorically so in his being a high ranking martial artist.  This stands in stark contrast to Fujita who is clearly of wealth and, therefore, has trained his body externally by using the bodies of others to harden his own.  A dichotomy then emerges between Chen and Fujita, Chen representing a person who is in a constant state of internal struggle, having to navigate and negotiate what he sees as valuable, because in most cases he cannot possess both, having to either sacrifice dojo or his love to assure the justice he initially seeks.  Even in the films closing when he has attained his girlfriend it is suggested that given the political state of Shanghai that this could continue to be temporary.  Fujita, as a counter, does not have to choose anything, because all is provided for him, at least in his world view that is the case.  His movement through spaces in a destructive manner suggest that he has no value for items or bodies, because he has never been threatened with the loss of either, it is rather clear in the closing fight between himself and Chen that he will destroy without hesitation, breaking windows and statues in a blind rage to kill his enemy.  Indeed, it is quite interesting to see him react to being killed by his own sword, because it is a wonderfully metaphoric scene in which his own assumption that once an item is in his control, he possesses it in every sense, Chen counters this suggesting that to own something works on a level far larger than physically.

Key Scene:  The battle between Chen and Funakochi that occurs in the field of hay is mesmerizing and it helps to explain why choreographer Yuen Woo-pig was hired to help The Wachowski's make The Matrix, it is by far the best fight choreography I have ever encountered in a film.

I would suggest renting this film, but be warned there are apparently tons of alternately edited versions depending on where in the world you live.  I cannot find out which is a definitive version, but it appears to have suffered the same troubles as Bladerunner.

It Won't Stop Bleeding!: I Spit On Your Grave (1978)

Considering that it is Women's History month here in the beloved United States I have taken it upon myself to dedicate the blogposts this month to all things related to women in film.  I, of course, realize that this task will shape up much differently than the manner in which my horror film fest did, since the topic is far more obtuse and certainly more problematic.  I will use this time to explain what I mean by women in film, in the cases of some of the films I plan to view, they will be considered for their place in cinema history as "women's films," while others will specifically focus on films directed by women or involving pivotal moments in the history of women in films.  In many other instances I will look at a film for its positive portrayal of women as cinematic subject, and as will be the case with the first film I review, I Spit On Your Grave, I will also consider the problematic moments in the realm of women in film, specifically the rape-revenge film, a genre that lasted far too long in the late seventies and all too unfortunately appears to be making a come back in the past few years.  This is not to say that rape is always problematic in film, considering that it is often used as a political statement, or as a reflection of historical realities, so much so that it is necessary for viewers to be made viscerally aware of its existence.  I picked out I Spit On Your Grave specifically, because it has proven to be a decidedly divisive film within film theory circles, some stating that it is an absolute story of radical feminism destroying the patriarchy, while others are certain that it only exploits female sexuality at the expense of real rape victims, in so much so that the main character is naked for most of the film and seems driven by sexual desire to engage in the violent acts.  I would argue that, while the film is certainly not void of problems, it also manages to tap into a few moments of truly revolutionary cinema intended to vilify, and deservedly so, the act of rape and make clear its context as a means of power politics and not sex.  The X rating slapped on this film is both unfortunate and understandable considering that its graphic nature is absolutely necessary for the subject matter and were it not for the existence of Cannibal Holocaust I would say this is one of the most captivatingly grotesque films ever realized.

I Spit On Your Grave centers on Jennifer Hills (Camille Keaton) an aspiring writer from New York who finds herself a cottage in a reclusive small town with the hopes of churning out her first novel.  However, her arrival as a single and considerably attractive young female sparks the interest of a handful of young men, particularly the mentally troubled, Matthew (Richard Pace) who becomes obsessed with the sexual openness of Jennifer.  Matthews three friends begin to mock him for his clear infatuation with the girl from New York insinuating that he only likes her because she flashed her breasts at him.  Regardless, the group sees this as an opportunity to help the troubled young man get laid and use their motorboat to trap Jennifer while she is canoeing.  What follows is a series of degrading rapes in which the individuals take their turns with Jennifer, allowing her moments to escape only to trap her again and have their way with her, even Matthew partakes in the activities, although he becomes embarrassed by the presence of his friends and becomes impotent in the process.  After the guys lose interest they send Matthew to attempt to kill Jennifer, but, yet again, he fails to do so leaving Jennifer to survive.  At first it appears as though Jennifer will just deal with her drama by internalizing it and putting it into her writing, yet something changes when she discovers a gun, leading her to exact her revenge out upon the various men, beginning with the hanging of Matthew, followed by an intense castration of another in the group and eventually ending by running one of the men over with the motor of the boat.  Jennifer is then shown using the motorboat to ride away from the entire event, likely as a means to escape, but also a means to move beyond and transcend her terrible past.

The statement of this film is considerably hard to navigate, because it is very much about destroying the act of rape by making the individuals engaging in such acts disappear, but as any humanist would argue the answer to acts of violence is not another act of violence, which clearly seems to be the suggestion within I Spit On Your Grave, hell, a solid hour of the film is committed to these violent moments.  Yet, the film also draws attention to the lack of fulfillment Jennifer receives from simply pouring her pain into writing, especially when she is aware that the men, for all intents and purposes, are walking the streets capable of doing the same acts.  It is at this point that one must carefully make a statement about what the metaphor of the film evokes, it is possible that the murders are to reflect a activist stance, in that action is always more viable than words, however, the larger reaching effects of Jennifer's actions are called into question, when one man's wife and children dismiss him, completely unaware of his being castrated only scenes earlier, perhaps it would have been better for Jennifer to simply make his wife aware of his terrible behavior, at the very least, the film offers that venue as a viable alternative.  I am not completely prepared to give this film a pass, because it does have a heavy degree of exploitation within its narrative, the amount of time Jennifer is naked is somewhat unnecessary and aside from a few moments of brilliant cinematography it is uncomfortable, the film fails to provide an equal amount of male nudity as a means to disavow the exploitative element.  Where I do want to focus praise is in the films very real acknowledgement that rape is classless, in so much, that Jennifer is a considerably well-to-do individual and even her class safety does not afford her sexual protection and the domineering, working class men, will use their masculine, phallic privilege as a means to contest her empowerment.  It is one of the few blatantly well-done moments in the film and at the very least deserves mentioning.

Key Scene:  The cleansing scene about midway through the film is both disturbing and masterfully shot and causes a dismissive viewer to pause in their refusal to embrace the controversial narrative.

I Spit On Your Grave is a Netflix watch instantly film and is probably the best means with which to view this film, although be warned, the volume is awful.  Also, I promise some of the future installments for the month will be more in the positive.

Big Atonement For Big Sins: Sympathy For Lady Vengeance (2005)

It is all but official; Park Chan-wook is the auteur to be admired most amongst the South Korean directors.  With a broad global following and a clear aesthetic, it is hard not to love everyone of this magnificent filmmakers works.  Between the sheer abrasiveness of Oldboy and the minimalist brilliance of Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance Park knows what he is doing when it comes to releasing socially pertinent thrillers that beg for continual revisiting.  His work Sympathy for Lady Vengeance is not his best work in my opinion, but it is certainly superior to most other films with similar concepts and certainly stands on its own as one of the best movies of 2005.  Between the on-point acting delivered by a slew of well-known Korean actors and the experimental filming, it is a profound study of redemption and an interesting reflection on women’s power within contemporary Korean society, and as has been the case with many of Park’s works, it raises far more questions than answers, never leaving the viewer with complete certainty of what actually occurred within the dense narrative, furthermore, as the commentator on the bluray noted, it has one of the best endings to a film in the past decade, something I agree with wholeheartedly.  Essentially, Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, causes me to drive home a point that I have said with just about every Korean film review posted her on my blog, they simply excel at genre films, particularly those relating to the horrific and the vengeful.

Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, like Oldboy and Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, focuses on an individual obtaining justice for a wrong enacted on them, always relying on methods outside of the law in order to obtain revenge.  In the case of this film, the focus is on Lee Geum-ja (Lee Young Ae) a woman who has recently been released from jail after being incarcerated for the murder of a young boy.  While in jail, Lee made a reputation for being both incredibly kind and completely indifferent to destroying an individual who harmed her, as evidenced by her killing a sexually abusive inmate through months of slowly poisoning her food, of which she volunteered to feed to her.  This reputation also causes Lee to gain a large amount of respect from the inmates who are let out after their sentences are completed.  Through their assistance, Lee is able to plan a revenge on Mr. Baek (Choi Min-sik) a teacher, who viewers come to discover is actually responsible for a series of child murders and blackmailed Lee to take the fall for him by threatening to kill her own daughter.  Besides planning on asserting revenge against Baek, Lee also attempts to reunite with her daughter who was placed in foster care in Australia, making for one of the more hilarious sequences within the film.  Furthermore, Lee takes up a relationship with her coworker, a young man who is eerily close to the age of the boy she murdered.  After undertaking the kidnapping of Baek with the help of his current partner, whom he is abusive to, she takes him to a dilapidated school and ties him up with the intent of shooting him with a gun.  However, upon discovering that he is indeed responsible for multiple murders, Lee calls upon the parents of each child to collectively exact revenge upon Baek.  In perhaps the most gruesome moments of the film, Lee and the others take a variety of weapons to Baek, killing him and then burying him in a hole behind the school.  This is all done under the watchful eye of a detective who accepts that their actions are far more fruitful than anything the bureaucratic system of law could provide. The film then comes back to Lee as she interacts with her daughter and young lover, she offers a white cake to her daughter to eat as snow falls on her and the others, signifying perhaps forgiveness or the dismal coldness of her future.

Park Chan-wook gained recognition as a film critic before becoming one of Korea’s most well known directors.  This fact helps to explain the non-linear narrative of Park’s films, particularly the clear fact that they lift from some of the world’s best directors, a bit of Hitchcock here, some Kurosawa there and a complete control of his works, much like Orson Welles.  While Park does borrow from some of the greats he certainly brings his own flares to the table, particularly in his approach to themes of revenge and redemption.  Rarely, if ever, is there a completely perfect character, even the protagonists within Park’s films possess their own problems.  For Lee, it is a clear inability to accept her own past and obtain self-esteem that troubles her, something that she never fully deals with, as is apparent when she refuses to taste the white cake at the end of the film, instead she simply slams her face into the cake and begins to sob, perhaps hoping that by throwing herself into something will help to provide her with the answers she so desperately seeks.  This desperation clearly influences her actions throughout the film, whether it be her desire to travel to Australia to see her mother, or to pour hours a day into obtaining a lavish fire arm with the intent of killing Baek.  It is almost as though Lee seeks validation for her own personal wrongs and expects everyone to simply adhere to them; this is at least the case with her relationship with the younger man.  Park is careful though not to completely lose the viewers by making his characters completely nonredeemable.  Whether it be Oldboy, Lady Vengeance or Mr. Vengeance the characters have moments of realization, all be it brief, that help them to accept the absurdities acted upon them, for Lee it occurs when she is able to shoot the already dead Baek, even if it was an act of frivolity, it displays Lee obtaining control her life again, something powerful and evocative and it is completely acceptable, because Park has asked us from the onset to have sympathy for Lee’s desire for revenge, and to some degree redemption.

Key Scene: It is most certainly the group revenge scene, try watching it without grimacing…I dare you.

This is one of the more well-known of Korean films on a global scale, the bluray looks fantastic and apparently possesses a fade to black and white version that I cannot wait to check out.  Park is a director to share with friends and well worth getting a copy of to watch repeatedly.

Don’t Go Chasing Shadows: The Woman In Black (2012)

A time long ago in cinema history known as the 1970’s witnessed a particularly offering of horror films from the illustrious company known as Hammer Films.  This company become popular quite quickly given their keen understanding of Gothic horror and a substantial use of corn syrup blood.  Tragically, as technology advanced it appeared as though the magnificent company lacked the relevance to continue successfully franchising their films when competing with films with larger production scales.  However, the recent release of the surprisingly enjoyable The Woman In Black proved a success for the newly revived company and offers the promise of a good future for Gothic horror.  Perhaps it is just the right mix of Daniel Radcliffe, jumpy scares and rotting children’s toys that makes the film so damn creepy, but while watching the film I could not help but find myself reminded of the eerie nature of The Wicker Man, as well as the dreary desperation of contemporary Asian films.  It is not necessarily a new offering to the genre of horror, but it is certainly refreshing to see the genre done right, because it is becoming more difficult to find consistently good horror offerings in the past few years.  Essentially, The Woman In Black is your textbook horror film and as such it is a welcome viewing experience that respects its absurdity without losing any of its suspenseful elements.

The Woman in Black focuses on Arthur (Daniel Radcliffe) a wraithlike young man who is coping with the untimely death of his wife after the birth of their son.  He is scraping by attempting to provide care for his child while also making a name for himself as an up and coming lawyer.  Despite his best efforts, he is threatened with his job unless he agrees to take on some clerical work in a desolate village that is a lengthy travel by train.  Upon arrival to the town, Arthur is dismissed given his foreign nature and clear attachment to technologies and his clearly urban leanings, attempting to find help from the various townsfolk with no success, Arthur is eventually befriended by Daily (Ciarin Hinds)  the only man in the village who owns a car.  Oblivious to the eerie nature of the town, Arthur demands a ride to the manor of Eel Marsh, which belonged to the late Alice Drabow.  It is once he ventures into this house that he realizes the village is not quite as simple as it initially let on.  After viewing a mysterious woman walking through the cemetery outside the manner, Arthur begins to ask questions about what actually happened at Eel Marsh.  Despite the attempts by the villagers, including Daily, to extract himself from the situation, Arthur continues to dig and discovers that Drabow actually lost her own child after it was removed from her custody given her instable mental state.  If this were not bad enough, Drabow was forced to watch her child die in the lake in front of her unable to provide assistance as she was locked away in a cellar.  As a result, Drabow’s ghost takes vengeance on the village causing the town’s children to kill themselves inexplicably.  Arthur, both adamant about keeping his job and realizing his otherness allows him access to hidden parts of the village, takes it upon himself to fix the situation.  With the help of Daily he discovers the location of Drabow’s dead child and returns it to her room, hoping that by reuniting the two the curse will forever end.  However, as Arthur awaits the arrival of his son to the village, the film cuts to the now empty house as the voice of Drabow yells her refusal to provide forgiveness, this is followed by Arthur’s son walking onto the tracks of an oncoming train, only to cause Arthur to dive to his rescue.  The film then cuts to the two walking in a darker version of the train station to discover Arthur’s dead wife, the scene implies that the family is reunited with the death of Arthur and his son and the three walk off into the darkness of the tunnel ahead.  In the closing image, the camera pans to a statue of Drabow in the corner as the head moves to make direct eye contact with viewers, suggesting that her curse is transferred off the screen and into reality.

While horror films are often relegated to a lesser film genre given their usually schlocky nature, it is important to note that they, perhaps more than any other genre, allow for possibilities of alternative narratives and previously unseen characters.  Take the original Night of the Living Dead for example.  In this work, the main character is a black male, which prior to this film was something considerably unusual, particularly in such a popular film.  This happens to some extent in The Woman in Black, as Arthur is certainly not your traditional hero.  He is a young widowed dad who is not entirely masculine and is undoubtedly not mentally stable.  Arthur clearly suffers from some level of crippling depression, which affects his behaviors and allows him to become in touch with the spiritual world.  In another setting, the hero would have been a stalwart character of social power, perhaps a police officer or a soldier.  Another notable feature of this particular horror film is its dealings with unjust seclusion to a person with mental illness.  To some extent, the character of Drabow nicely reflects that character of the crazy woman in the attic from Jane Eyre who would be given her own narrative in Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea.  The reflection exists in the fact that a person is placed in solitary confinement for no apparent reason and is not allowed access to the world she created.  It is only suggested that Drabow had a child and that the child’s father is completely out of the picture.  Similar to the woman in the attic who burns down the Rochester house in revolt, Drabow is doing so out of vengeance, as well as lack of acknowledgement.  It could be argued that if Drabow were simply allowed access to her child then none of the terrible instance would have occurred.  Unfortunately, this is not the case and the result is gruesome to say the least.  Horror predicates itself on the absurd, however, it also reminds viewers that in  many of these instances the vengeful ghosts are doing so for a clear social injustice done to them in the past, and as such it is a call to end such irrational behavior in contemporary settings.

The Woman in Black is still making its way through theaters and is incredibly cinematic.  Take some friends with you, as it is certainly an edge of the seat viewing experience.  As for the eventually release, it is certainly a bluray grab for horror fans.

Have You Ever Done Anything To Provoke Anyone?: Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance (2002)

As I continue to venture through my book on New Korean Cinema, I am becoming completely enthralled with the complexities of their national cinema, as well as being enamored with the films release in the country within the last decade.  The work of Chan-wook Park certainly stands far above not only many of his Korean contemporaries, but well above other working directors as well.  Park, most well known for Old Boy, is a director who completely understands how to merge artistic expression with viewer demands into films that excel both in their message and delivery, never at any point sacrificing either side to assure the fluidity of the other.  His film Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, a lesser known film within Park's trilogy that includes Old Boy is something to cherish.  It is a film that makes no amends to assuring understandability to foreign viewers, yet the philosophical issues raised within the film are so universal that whispered dialogue and absurdist endings do little to delineate its commentary.  Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance is a poetic study of anger, violence and retribution that is done so with a soft palette, experimental angles and just enough cohesion to provide a unique and lasting viewing experience.  I am starting to understand why Korean cinema is becoming more viewed and studied on a global scale, because it is clearly the source for some of the most profound cinema of the past decade.

Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance is, like the previously discussed Tell Me Something, a film about crime, deceit and the psychological effects of such engagements.  However, unlike the latter, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance approaches desires for revenge as they manifest themselves through a handful of characters.  The first, and perhaps most notable character within the film is the deaf factory worker named Ryu (Ha-kyun Shin) who is simply trying to accrue enough money to kidney transplant for his dying sister.  In a twist of bad luck, Ryu is laid off from work and left without a reliable source to pay for his sister's operation.  Discovering an advertisement for organ selling, the deaf Ryu makes plans to swap his kidney for that of a positive match to his sister.  Despite the disagreements of his lover, and faux-revolutionary, Yeong-Mi (Doona Bae) Ryu decides to go through with the operation.  Meeting at a sleasy abandoned parking garage, Ryu in part confusion and part lack of hearing is taken advantage of and left naked and lacking one kidney on the top floor of the garage.  Enraged and embarrassed, Ryu returns to Yeong-Mi and the two hash a plan to kidnap the daughter of one of the CEO's of Ryu's former company.  Agreeing to be kind to the girl, the two enact the murder and plan to use the money earned to solidify that Ryu's sister receives her operation.  However, as is usually the case, the kidnapping goes awry and Ryu fails to hear the kidnapped girl drowning behind him.  Furthermore, Ryu's sister discovers a sheet explaining his plans to abduct a child in the name of saving her, which leads her to commit suicide in shame.  At this point in the story, the now dead girl's father and Ryu become bent on revenge.  Ryu angry at the people who took his kidney and the CEO upset at Ryu for what he assumes to be an intentional murder.  After killing the organ theives, Ryu's path crosses with the CEO who has already killed Yeong-Mi in an attempt to find Ryu.  The CEO then takes Ryu to the place where his daughter died and slits his achilles tendons leaving the deaf Ryu to die an agonizing death.  When the films seems all but over a group of thugs drive up in a car and kill the CEO claiming that they are doing so to avenge the death of Yeong-Mi who was the leader of the revolutionary organization which had up until this point seemed to be fake.  All acts of revenge settled, the film closes with nobody victorious and a larger amount of bloodshed than any person had imagined.

Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, like the other works of Park delves heavily into the questioning of the validity and rationality of revenge.  The character of Ryu throughout most of the film is simply attempting to assure the comfort of his sister, and even when being unjustifiably removed from work lacks a desire to act violently against those who did wrong by him.  It is clearly suggested that Ryu should find most of his rage through his termination from the steel company, yet he fails to do so and instead acts illogically and attempts to make a deal with shady criminals.  Even after the initial robbery of his kidney, Ryu fails to feel vengeful against the group and instead attempts to act irrationally to save his sister.  It is not until his sister takes her own life that he becomes enraged and finally lashes out against the criminals, killing them all with little compassion or emotional cognizance.  His act of vengeance proves to be his downfall as he is eventually killed by the CEO, who believes him to be a ruthless murderer, a fact that was not true for most of the film.  Similarly, the CEO finds his anger directed at Ryu and enacts much of it upon Yeong-Mi who is arguably innocent in the death of his daughter.  Again, it is his unrestrained murder of multiple individuals that lead to his death despite it being clear that he is acting vengeful for nothing more than an unfortunate accident.  The film drives the CEO's place in the entire affair home by suggesting that he was foolish enough to believe that he had no enemies, despite being inextricably tied to a company that laid individuals off with little thought for their futures.  The film ultimately ties a group of people together who assume themselves to be living separate lives of little concern with the world, but as it becomes clear within the narrative, an act of wrongdoing often has many culprits and always has many victims.

Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance is a stunning film that is cinematically sound.  Although I have yet to view Lady Vengeance, I am sure it is a great film making the Park's bluray boxset of The Vengeance Trilogy a must own.  Although Park has not made a film in a few years, I strongly suggest keeping an eye out for his name, because his next work is sure to amaze.

Chopping Wood and Shooting Prostitues: Revanche (2008)

I am starting to realize that a trend exists in European cinema that appears to have began around the mid-nineties with emotionally and visually jarring films such as La Haine.  This style of cinema is one that adheres to gritty and often brutal stories of the underworld of Europe and often portrays such narratives with little concern for viewers comfort.  These often urban films are different from their film noir predecessors in that they are not emotionally detached from their subject, but instead very much involved in their story to the point that one viewing this type of film begins to empathize with a character even if they are completely detestable.  Gotz Spielman's Austrian thriller Revanche is such a film, however, unlike its predecessors; it takes the urban experience and forces it to collide rather chaotically with the rural and suburban world.  The result is a poetically abrasive film about people moving in and out of the dredges of society and the relationships they share that are both life affirming and life changing in the process.

The film focuses directly on Alex (Johannes Krisch) a recently released convict who has found employment as a bounder/errand man for the owner of strip club and brothel.  While working at the establishment, Alex begins to formulate a relationship with one of the employees, a Ukranian prostitute named Tamara (Irina Potapenko).  Their relationship, while secretive appears to be working, until Alex's boss takes a personal likening to Tamara, offering her a job as a high end escort.  Realizing his boss's ulterior motives Alex hatches a plan to rob a bank and flee to Spain with Tamara.  This occurs simultaneous to the film depicting the relationship of grocery store employee Susanne (Ursulla Strauss) and her cop husband Robert (Andreas Lust) whose marriage has been rather rocky after the realization of Robert's infertility issues.  These two narratives seem distinct were it not for the fact that Susanne and Robert's closest neighbor is Alex's aging father Hausner (Johannes Thanheiser).  The robbery that Alex undertakes appears to be successful, despite taking Tamara along with him for the heist, however, due almost entirely to chance Robert is the person on duty during the robbery and approaches Tamara out of suspicion while Alex is committing the robbery.  When Alex still wearing his robber's mask returns to his car he finds Robert questioning Tamara and in a fit of panic forces Robert to drop his weapon and lay on the ground.  After Alex and Tamara make a getaway Robert shoots at the car in an attempt to blow the tires, unfortunately, his gun misses and hits Tamara in the head.  Realizing that the cops will search for him Alex ditches his car and heads to hideout at his father's house under the guise of helping him with some large scale chores, the biggest of which is his cutting of wood for the fireplace.  During his time there he realizes that Hausner's neighbors are indeed Susanne and Robert whom he recognizes instantly as Tamara's killer.  Alex then spends the rest of the film plotting revenge on Robert, which in Alex's eyes means death.  However, Alex certainly does not shy away from the opportunity to sleep with Susanne as a point of revenge.  This portion of the film is lengthy and drawn out purposefully, but as it ends we witness Susanne using her infidelity as a guise for successful pregnancy, while Robert unknowingly confesses to Alex his guilt upon accidentally murdering Tamara, which leads to an unspoken forgiveness.  In fact, Alex seems to be free of any association to the robbery were it not for Susanne's discovery of a photograph of Tamara in Alex's possession, which leads her to piece all the events together.  She realizes though that to turn Alex in would be to forfeit her newly rejuvenated relationship with Robert, something she cannot bear to do.  As such the film closes with Alex picking apples up outside his father's house continuing in his life with a fresh start, even if the new life came at a dire cost.

Revanche is spectacular in its unconventional approach to a revenge film.  This is a revenge narrative with an incredibly slow burn.  Compare Revanche to a film like Taken in which the character is all out in his actions and scenes are incredibly violent and occur frequently.  The violence in Revanche is minimal, but the threat of it is ever present.  The unusual nature of this plot can be tied directly to the fact that ethically speaking Alex does not have a justifiable reason to seek revenge.  In the case of Tamara's death, it was a legitimate accident and one that could have been prevented had Alex simply told Tamara to wait for him while he engaged in his theft.  This leaves the viewer in an interesting scenario, because they cannot simply support Alex's decision.  Reading the film in such a way makes actions like his involvement with Susanne all the more intriguing.  His decision to take advantage of her sexually is unusual, but somehow manages to seem more appropriate as a means of revenge than killing her or Robert.  It is as though he is making a mark for Tamara, without destroying anything.  In fact, as the film implies he could very well be responsible for Susanne's pregnancy.  If this is the case than Alex has delivered the ultimate form of revenge and only himself and Susanne will be aware.  Furthermore, Alex's continual chopping of wood becomes a sort of penance for his misdeeds and an attempt at meditation on his life up to this point.  In the end, Alex is left to accept the error of his ways and engage in a life that assures loneliness, but also the impossibility of reoccurring heartbreak.

I had the pleasure of viewing Revanche on 35 mm print.  It is certainly not feasible to do so for everyone, thankfully the folks at Criterion released a bluray version that is probably almost as nice.