It's A Whirlwind, You're In It And You Can't Get Out: Young Guns (1988)

I will begin this blog post with a question: Is it possible for a western genre film to be totally 80's?  If you answered no, then you have clearly never seen the film Young Guns, which manages to be both a sturdy western and an example of everything we have come to both love and loathe about 80's filmmaking.  Rife with a group of the hottest actors of the late 80's, Young Guns has everything one would desire from the particular era of filmmaking, yet it manages to have solid shootouts and a considerable grasp of western elements as had been well established decades earlier.  Furthermore, despite having a set of actors who have by no means become synonymous with respected acting, the film is quite enjoyable and surprisingly engaging.  Young Guns, as a film, deserves recognition as one of the better offering from the back half of the decade and is certainly one of the standout Westerns made within the past twenty years.  The film is not particularly stellar in any of its execution; however, it is notably consistent and is a solid movie.  One will be hard pressed to find anything within the film that remotely justifies it as being cinematic, yet it is easy to find moments of enjoyability throughout the film, whether they come from Keifer Sutherland waxing poetic or Emilio Estevez attempting to out bad ass Charlie Sheen. Essentially, Young Guns is nothing more than a regular teen drama set with the Wild West as its backdrop, yet something about its composition manages to be engaging enough to keep the viewer around even if it is a terribly predictable film.

Young Guns, follows a group of gunslingers who have barely passed the threshold of puberty attempting to make their name in the ruthless world of the newly emerging west.  Their sole form of guidance comes in the form of a suave mentor and employer named John Tunstall (Terence Stamp) who in exchange for protection teaches the young men how to read and write.  These young men are a group of unique individuals that clearly trust each other, yet manage to pave distinct paths that would quickly mean loosing interest in one another’s desires.  The group of boys includes Charley Bowdre (Casey Siemasko) and Dirty Steve Stephens (Dermot Mulroney) the clear lackeys in the gang who rarely speak and simply follow the orders of the higher members of the gang.  Jose Chavez (Lou Diamond Phillips) a knife wielding Mexican who has ties to Navajo ancestry.  Josiah “Doc” Scurlock (Keifer Sutherland) the intellectual of the group who finds himself preoccupied with taking the hand of a Chinese immigrant.  Dick Brewer (Charlie Sheen) the clear leader of the back who adheres to the idea of letting his actions speak louder than his words, and finally William “The Kid” Bonney (Emilio Estevez) the newcomer to the group whose rebellious spirit and clearly high levels of angst continually place the group, know as The Regulators, in danger.  It is not long into their existence that the group is forced to test their limits as a ruthless politician named Lawrence G. Murphy (Jack Palance) starts trouble with John Tunstall upon the realization that he has his own political ambitions.  To assure his failed candidacy, Murphy has Tunstall killed, which leads the group into a vengeful fit that leaves many of Murphy’s men dead in the hill and streets of the Wild West.  Ultimately, with the aid of Tunstall’s friend Alex McSween (Terry O’Quinn) the group is able to hole-up in a house and fend off Murphy’s attacks upon the group, who have at this point in the film become criminals.  This comes, however, with a large amount of loss, most notably Dick Brewer, who dies much earlier because of a bounty placed on his head, when he is mistaken as The Kid.  Ultimately, most of the group is able to escape into hiding and continue with their life with little hassle, of course, the narrative notes that “The Kid,” as known in famous Wild West tales is in fact killed, but as the inevitable sequel suggests, that story is for another time.

I joked about the film being incredibly 80’s in its existence; however, the jesting does have an inherent truth to it below the surface.  Despite being entrenched within the dialogue and ways of the west, Young Guns is absolutely a social critique of 1980’s America, particularly one in which the youth of America had become disillusioned with their political system.  This particular time in American politics witnessed the problematic era of Reaganomics and hyper-conservative rule over The United States, only to be followed by the seeming certainty that an inept and equally conservative president would take their place.  The transfer of power from one corrupt individual to another seemed illogical yet impossible to end without force and confrontation.  However, despite the feelings many individuals found themselves too indifferent to affect a change and simply found themselves content complaining about the problems without engaging in their discontinuation.  Young Guns is certainly an attempt to create a zealous animosity towards such unchecked powers.  The aptly named Regulators are meant to take down Murphy, a conservative politician with deep-rooted political ties and seemingly endless amounts of money, while young Americans were believed responsible for taking down Right Wing oppression, which too had deep pockets of money and political power.  As is the case with the film, many people suffered from the revolution against such powers, but as would be the case only a few years later, politics did change, and while it may not have been for the better overall, it certainly did prove promising for the future of youth involvement in political change.  While it is quite possible that Young Guns is simply a western film intended for young adults and teenagers, it would be unfortunate to look over the clear societal influences affecting its production, as they add a clear element of the era’s political discourse.

Young Guns is certainly a contemporary classic that is to be seen.  However, it is not so brilliant that owning a copy is necessary, in fact, the current copy available is not the greatest of quality and suffers from a few dubbing issues.  As such, renting the film seems to be the best choice at the moment.

Be Glad We Even Came This Far: The Isle (2000)

My continued romp with Korean cinema has produce a rewarding set of films the continually challenge my expectations of narrative and cinematic composition.  The Isle, despite its gritty low-fidelity nature somehow manages to be incredibly poetic and despairingly profound.  It is independent foreign cinema realized to its fullest, and despite its clearly Korean nature manages to be universal in its appeal.  As I continue through more of the Korean films mentioned in the books I am reading, it is becoming apparent that they share many similarities to American cinema, however, when it comes to their studies of individual's psychological nature Korean films seem to excel in a way far more dark than any other country in the world.  The Isle is absolutely a film concerned with the inner desires and nightmares of people, and how such manifestations inevitably affect the world around them, sometimes in a very physical manner.  Like my previous review of Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, The Isle finds itself tied to notions of revenge in a way that seems inherently entrenched within all Korean films, respective of a unique culture that finds an uncomfortable relationship with their past that proves a cause for chaotic rebellion that is viscerally depicted in their films.

The Isle focuses on a set of floating houses at some unnamed river in Korea that is run by a mute prostitute named Hee-jin (Seo Jung).  She seems content to drift from house to house, providing foods, and services, to the residents, until she is provoked by one customers degrading behavior.  In retaliation she kills the man while he is relieving himself and finds little qualm in doing so.  Things change though with the emergence of a new resident, one Hyun-shik (Kim Yu-seok), a criminal evading the law after what viewers assume is a murder in a jealous rage.  While Hee-jin seems disinterested in Hyun-sik at first, his clearly disturbed past becomes a point of interest and Hee-jin begins to long for him, becoming jealous of his relations with the other prostitutes that frequent the house.  This jealousy is exacerbated by Hee-jin becoming close with Hyun-shik as she finds herself saving him from multiple suicide attempts, one particularly gruesome one involving fish hooks.  Disinterested in Hee-jin, Hyun-shik attempts to escape the resort only to be denied by Hee-jin, who possesses the only boat that can leave the isle.  Yet again, fishhooks serve as a means to try and escape from the area, this time in a much more gruesome manner, however, after a spat, Hyun-shik finds himself saving Hee-jin.  The two continue their troubled relationship, and when divers come to rescue a lost rolex they discover the dead bodies of a prostitute and her pimp, which leads the couple to escape from the area, by attaching to the motor of the boat to Hyun-shik's floating house.  The two are now living together in their house, as they float into uncertainty on a river to nowhere.

The Isle, similar to the Japanese experimental film The Woman in the Dunes, has a purgatorial nature about it, particularly given the dreary and lonely nature of the film.  The characters, despite their interactions, seem to just drift throughout the film uncertain about their future or what direction to engage.  They are stuck between something great and something awful and it is never certain what place they will ultimately reside.  The characters, as evident of ones stuck in purgatory, boarder between the definitions of good and evil, and it is ultimately their choices at the isle that decide their fate.  Hyun-shik, is guilty of murder, however, it is made clear that his actions were at the very least not evil as he was doing so in a fit of jealous rage.  He must reside in the purgatory of the isle until he acts in the name of good, which occurs when he saves the live of Hee-jin.  Similarly, Hee-jin is engaged in a questionable position ethically as she is a prostitute and uses her body in a clearly degrading manner, furthermore, she is guilty of murder, yet the people she has killed are certainly bad and in need of punishment.  Again, like Hyun-shik, it is not until she acts in a morally positive manner that she is allowed to escape her situation and give up the job as the ferry person of the purgatorial isle.  At this point, the couple leave the isle and head into nothingness, but we as viewers can only hope that it is into a heavenly place.

The Isle is a hidden gem of Korean cinema, a lesser known marvel amidst a rather stellar decade of films.  Thankfully, it is available streaming on Netflix and well worth watching.

If We're Seen, We Have To Leave: The Secret World of Arriety (2010)

Studio Ghibli is essentially a flawless company that has only gained a larger global acclaim with the help of Disney and the douchy shirt wearing John Lasseter.  While the handful of anime films released by this Disney subsidiary certainly have their father company to thank it is clear that most of the credit for their success should be directed to Hayao Miyazaki, the now aging director of anime classics such as Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away.  While Miyazaki has stepped down from the directors seat he was present as a writer, and, undoubtedly, as an advisor on Studio Ghibli's most recent offering, The Secret World of Arrietty which is based off the British novel The Borrowers written by Mary Norton some sixty years earlier.  While The Secret World of Arrietty is nowhere close to Miyazaki's masterpiece Howl's Moving Castle it is a clear work of art and a solid example of the cinematic possibilities of animation, a fact that many film critics still seem hesitant to embrace.  Like many of Studio Ghibli's other offerings, The Secret World of Arrietty is both accessible, yet quite broad in its commentary and philosophical pondering, and with the exception of the work of Satoshi Kon, I have trouble thinking of another anime director who is as concerned with the simplest of details in their work.  A key animator, under the tutelage of Miyazaki, it is clear that the films director Hiromasa Yonebayashi is prepared to take the reigns for the now well-respected Studio Ghibli and I know for one that I am excited at the future prospects.

As is the case with many works tied to Miyazaki, the film concerns itself with the experiences of particularly young individuals, however, these youth are rarely offered world situations that are remotely possible in the physical realm and often rely on worlds of magic and make believe for their existence.  The Secret World of Arrietty one such film as it focuses on the life of the title character Arrietty who is, along with her mother Homily and father Pod, a Borrower.  Borrowers are miniature versions of human beings that borrow small items from humans that they can live without missing, such as thread, needles, sugar and tissue.  It is their belief that they must remain out of the sight of humans because to be spotted by humans would assure their destruction, because as Pod make clear, their curiosity would lead them to ruin the Borrower lifestyle.  Arrietty seems set to abide by these rules and looks forward to her time as Borrower, until she is spotted accidentally by a human named Shawn.  Shawn despite being very calm in his approaches, given an life-threatening heart disease, is dismissed by Arrietty who assures him that no good can come of their interactions.  Arrietty's reservations are assured when Shawn's aunt becomes obsessed with catching the Borrowers, because she has been living in seclusion for years after public mocking for her previous claims of spotting such creatures.  As such, she hires exterminators to catch the Borrowers, much to the dismay of Shawn.  Realizing the impossibilities of unity, Shawn sets out to help Arrietty and her family move from the house to a new location and luckily, the task is made considerably easier by Arrietty's father running into another borrower, who provides guidance to a new location in a more urban area of Japan.  Both Arrietty and Shawn part with sorrow in their heart, yet they realize that their summer will represent a lasting memory in their lives of something magical and sentimental.  It is heartbreaking, but in a way that reminds viewers of the possibility of good in humanity.

When I reviewed Paprika awhile back I made note of the problems technology presented to women's relationship in society.  I argued that through objectification and disconnect women were oppressed on at least a theoretical level.  When referencing this, it is interesting to discover that the worlds of not only this film, but most other Studio Ghibli films place women in a rather progressive place.  Arrietty is an independent girl who desperately desires to carve her own path in the world and clearly dismisses the notions of domesticity pushed forcefully by her mother.  This is a theme that manifests itself in other Ghibli works, most notably in Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away.  Even the males within these works diverge from gender norms, Pod is a masculine in his demeanor, but is clearly an affectionate and loving father, while Shawn is in tune with his emotional side and promotes unity over the possibility of oppressive power.  In fact, it is clear that this film, as well as others from the studio, suggest that such traditions of gender are problematic and often only reside in the minds of an older generation.  With this in mind, a character like the aunt within the film are more understandable as villains, not only does she represent someone out to destroy the Borrowers, but she also wishes to maintain traditional gender norms as well.  It is interesting as well to compare this character to say the work of Ozu, in which gender mores were propagated by an aging male figure, in many Miyazaki films the paternal oppressor is not only not present, but rarely acknowledged.  All is not perfect in these films though, as they often end with the suggestion that the characters have found some sort of heteronormative relationship to engage in, this is certainly the case in The Secret World of Arrietty, as Arrietty is shown in the closing credits accepting a gift from Spiller, a male Borrower who has shown interest in her.  Problematic for sure these images must be criticized, however, as a whole the film does question gender roles and their apparent concreteness.  It suggests a possibility for fluidity and the evolution from an older ignorant tradition.

While The Secret World of Arrietty has been out in Japan for nearly two years, it is only now completing its U.S. theatrical run and it is certainly worth checking out in theaters.  It was my first anime theatrical viewing and the fully realized world of Arriety pours off the screen beautifully.  Also, I have to agree with my girlfriend on how awesome Arriety's room is in the film.

Experiments In Film: She Puppet (2001)

When it comes to experimental narratives, some ideas sound so terrible that it could by no means work, yet upon delivery and full realization it is something magical.  This is the case with Peggy Ahwesh's She Puppet which is merely a compilation of video footage from Tomb Raider video games spliced together in a non-linear way with voice overs from various feminist literature and poems.  Yet simplicity by no means encapsulates what She Puppet becomes, Ahwesh's work is profoundly reflective on the nature of humanity and the person hood of woman in relation to an existential existence and an indifferent world.  It realizes the cinematic possibilities of video games by exploiting the glitches and hidden corners of the game in a way that transcends its initial purpose, without completely detaching the game from its original meaning.  Furthermore, Ahwesh revises the entire nature of Tomb Raider by removing most of the sound and music from the film, a notable psychological element to video games.  As I have noted many times prior, I adore found footage filmmaking and it is clear that She Puppet is one such film, yet its method of finding footage is uniquely its own and as such serves as a brilliant piece of extremely unconventional filmmaking.

In a theoretical sense, She Puppet is brilliant.  It is clearly feminist in its composition, given the multiple narrators questioning of what role women play in a world that clearly oppresses them.  Such a commentary is furthered by choosing images of the video games protagonist Lara Croft being attacked by a multitude of enemies some being men and the other being natures predators.  It realizes the problems of female oppression in a grand way that is both clear, yet not so on the nose to lose its genius.  Furthermore, Ahwesh uses the previously mentioned glitches within the game to cause Croft to blend in with her scenery and float in the rivers as though she were part of the nature itself, this is done while commentaries about the narrator/Croft's ties to the world as a woman invoking a Gaia ideal.  Finally, and perhaps most profoundly, the film questions the relationship between the game and its player, invoking game theory, as well as what it means for the existential self to control another humanoid object in a godlike manner, especially when said object is a woman.  It not only delves into an even deeper level of oppression in terms of male/female relationships, but what possibility for feminist realization can come when a woman relates herself to the woman character she plays in a video game.  Ahwesh's film is quite ahead of its time, particularly given the increasing interactivity of video games in the recent years; her film is simply a prophetic study of all that such technological advances imply.

For more information on Peggy Ahwesh or to watch She Puppet click on the images below:

no look inthe eyes: Film Socialisme (2010)

Upon finishing Everything Is Cinema: The Working Life of Jean-Luc Godard by author and film critic Richard Brody I came away with two clear notions.  The first is that Godard has left an indelible mark on the history and construction of cinema since his initial feature film Breathless.  Second, I realized that he has become one of the most divisive and belligerent filmmakers of the past two decades.  While I constantly sing his praises for his earlier work, it is clear that his desire to be a political dissident and destroy the structure that is video have done nothing but ruin his artistic output.  Film Socialisme, could well have been one of the best films of this decade were Godard to have reigned in his animosity for the rest of the world, given its clearly cinematic nature and experimental narrative.  Tragically, his desire to distance viewers, particularly those not speaking French, with incoherent subtitles, like the one that titles this blog entry and his spiraling into ungrounded political attacks cause the film to quickly become unwatchable.  It was only a matter of time before I found myself guessing when Godard would throw in an image of Hitler, and to no surprise, he did so in some of the films closing scenes.  Not to dismiss the work completely, Film Socialism does indeed offer a few moments of cinematic expression rare in contemporary art house cinema, yet as a whole the film is clearly a failed attempt at creating works similar to the early works of Dziga Vertov, or anything by Dusan Makavejev, and ends up lacking the one thing that Godard always had going for him...hipness.  Film Socialisme is a film that attempts to mix political commentary with the exploration of human relationships, however, the concoction lacks far too many ingredients to prove successful, the most apparent being a sane and accessible director.

While Film Socialisme plays out as a series of vignettes, it is possible to glean some basic narrative from the various characters presented throughout the film.  The initial setting of Godard's work is on a cruise ship, as the images cut between glossy shots of the ships deck and the ocean to shots of passengers dancing in a nightclub which are captured in terrible quality by what appears to be a cellphone camera.  In the midst of this entire structure, we are introduced to various members of the cruise, including an aged war criminal, a former official for the United Nations and what appears to be a Soviet detective.  The characters interact to some extent, but without a complete understanding of the multiple languages throughout the film, it is impossible to verify with any certainty their conversations or the seeming ties between each character.  Even when American viewers are offered a familiar language in that of musician Patti Smith she only rambles incoherently about a variety of things.  With little explanation the film then cuts to the interactions of two children as they cope with coming to age and realizing the frivolity of their young lives and as such they begin to question there parents on a variety of issues, including notions of political justice and global equality.  Their conversations are being recorded, for apparently no reason by a film crew who possess clearly revolutionary ties.  These moments while completely absurd reflect Godard's traditional styling; it is when the film reaches the third act that everything falls apart.  The film falls into a slew of still images, news reels and even the title menu for a film, with sections that represent major world locations, including but not limited to Barcelona, Egypt and Odessa.  What connection Godard is attempting to make is quite unclear, but he obviously associates many of the images to fascist rule and violence is shown throughout, particularly as it relates to the Middle Eastern countries depicted.  At one point earlier in the film, Godard even inserts this popular YouTube video again for no apparent reason.  The film closes with the words no comment, implying that Godard desires no confrontation about the images he has depicted, despite their clearly agitating intent and fallacious nature.  Furthermore, in a bizarre twist, Godard filmed the cruise scenes on the recently ill-fated Costa Concordia making the disparate nature of the film almost prophetic.

To dismiss the political and critical commentary of Film Socialisme would be unfair, despite the clear disinterests of Godard to his viewers and society in general.  Film Socialisme is primarily concerned to great detail with what role the movie image plays in societal change.  As the film's tagline suggests, "Freedom is Expensive," making Godard's choice to stage an early portion of the film on a cruise ship pertinent.  The individuals on this ship are attempting to escape their problematic pasts and their large amounts of wealth provide them such an opportunity, yet any attempts to capture their escapes are ruined either by the lack of proper technology, which is best seen in the grainy footage of a party on the ship or inability to capture images properly as occurs with shots of individuals talk to people off camera who are never shown, or the scene later in the film in which one of the revolutionary filmmakers is killed off screen, but the stagnant camera is unable to follow the action.  Godard desperately wants his viewers to understand that the power of video as a means of social justice is impossible and the third act of his film attempts to drive this notion home by suggesting that we as a society have seen atrocities in the past via video and have done little to affect change as a result.  Film Socialisme, as such is a manifesto on the fading power of video in an evolving technocracy that allows those in power to escape media condemnation.  It very much had the possibility of revolutionizing our current cinema standards, yet in the hands of an aging Godard, Film Socialisme is nothing more than a preachy old man shaking his fists with rage and fury so as to ruin any validity to his argument.

Film Socialisme is a unique viewing experience, without a doubt, however, to purchase the film would be illogical unless you are a die hard Godard supporter.  The director has lost his touch and seems incapable of ever gaining it back.  Rent the film if you find yourself intrigued by its controversy.

Thank God For The Rain To Wash The Trash Off The Sidewalk: Taxi Driver (1976)

Taxi Driver is unequivocally one of my favorite movies, and next to The Last Temptation of Christ it is one of Scorsese's finest films.  It is what one looks for in a perfect piece of cinema: quotability, cinematic grandiosity and an enigmatic yet accessible narrative that causes viewers to debate its meaning and argue over its social commentary well past its initial release.  There are a slew of excellent films from the seventies, mostly from the hands of Francis Ford Coppola, however, Taxi Driver, as well as Robert Altman's Nashville, reflect the essence of the seventies, particularly the political disillusionment and sexual abjection.  However, as pertinent to the time of release as Scorsese's film may be it has a clearly timeless element about it that makes it so damn enjoyable some thirty-five years later and its brilliance cannot be denied.  The accessibility of the film is not an easy thing to locate, because it is clearly a challenging film that does not offer its viewers quick answers and certainly procures more answers than solutions.  It is art house cinema meets traditional Hollywood in something so unique and lasting that it has undeniably influenced cinema in a lasting way.

Taxi Driver focuses on the rather unusual experiences of Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) a New York taxi driver with a clear disdain for the citizens of what he believes to be a lost city.  Travis, suffering from a severe case of insomnia, decides to roam the streets of New York finding meaning for the malaise that is his inconsequential life  During one of his day time routes he discovers the headquarters of political candidate Charles Palentine (Leonard Harris) and one of its employees Betsy (Cybil Shepard), to who Travis takes an instant liking.  While initially successful with his approaches to Betsy, he fails to woo her after taking her to see a pornographic film and is left alone yet again.  As a result, Travis begins to wonder the streets yet again and encounters an extremely young prostitute named Iris (Jodi Foster) who also goes by the unfortunate name of Easy.  Travis makes it a goal of his to remove Iris from her unfortunate situation, given his own definition of an ethical world, which defines that Iris is stuck in a terrible situation and must be extracted from it, despite her own personal opinion of her lifestyle.  Travis attempts to simply ask Iris to leave, but her inextricable ties with her pimp Sport (Harvey Keitel) who clearly has his own feeling for Iris.  As a result, Travis accrues a large amount of fire power and raids the house in which Iris stays only to receive opposition from Sport and his various lackeys.  Left wounded, Travis is able to fend off the various attackers and save Iris from her situation only to become the praise of local newspapers.  The film then cuts to Travis returning to his job as a taxi driver, escorting Betsy to a random event.  Travis then looks into his mirror and the film ends in the same pace of disparity as when the film began.

There are three interpretations that I have come across when looking at analysis for Taxi Driver, two that are clearly incorrect when approaching such a complex film.  The first is simply to claim that the film is a reflection of the dire state of New York during the seventies, this interpretation is obvious.  The second is to read the film as an attempt to affect political change in a world of indifference, this reading is possible, however, the film only deals with this concept in portions of the film and even then it is in a very passive manner.  Instead, in my opinion, the most pertinent reading of the film is to call it a dreamscape relating to the mind of Travis Bickle.  If one is to look at this film as such it is easy to read the film as a subconscious romp into ones darkest desires.  Travis continually claims his loathsome relationship with New York throughout the film and it helps to explain how in his own mind that he could kill a large amount of criminals with little trouble from the judicial system.  Furthermore, if one looks closely at the film instances that occur throughout the film are clearly tied throughout the film, whether it be Travis's presence during every conversation at the Palentine headquarters, or what could be clearly his imagination creating a scenario between Sport and Iris.  However, what cements the film as a possible dream narrative is the bookends of the film which have Travis looking into the rear view mirror of his taxi car, implying that he is lost in his own personal thoughts throughout the film, thoughts which become the surreal, absurd landscape for almost two hours of cinematic brilliance.

Taxi Driver is magical in its existence and the recent bluray transfer is phenomenal, getting a copy is mandatory for even the most minimal of film libraries.

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.