Naughty Horror, sorry, Naughties Horror (my bad) often leaves fans a little *raspberries*. It’s all unnecessary sequels *SAW 17, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 5, BIG SEA CREATURE FIGHTS ANOTHER OVERSIZED SEA CREATURE* and remakes and novelty spectacles. Then Sam Raimi came up with THIS, which is lucky because it’s AWESOME. Quick synopsis: Bank worker gets cursed by the gypsy she accidentally-on purpose de-homes. Why does it work so well? Let’s go to Salt’s Analysis Lab to find out.
- Endearing victim
Ok, so generally, classic victims are either bolshy and annoying, weak and pathetic or perfect, ner nee ner nee ner perfect, you know. Or high schoolers, but that’s another kettle of fish. Alison Lohman as the unfortunate Christine Brown manages to get just the right balance between nice ‘n’ normal and sweet as a little pie, and as for her relationship with Justin Long’s Clay Dalton. I mean just *grabs tissue* so lovely together *sobs*. The dialogue is banterous enough to feel real, with seeming contrived and most importantly, she really doesn’t deserve the bad luck.
- It harks back to the glory days
Raimi sets the tone right from the off by opening with the beautiful 1963- 90 Universal Pictures logo – there’s no doubt about the angle he’s going for. Not only are the superficial choices vintage-inspired(the clothes, for example, are all classically cut) but the camp theatricality of the 70s and 80s serves as the very foundation upon which the rest of the film is built. It does come from the same mind as the Evil Dead trilogy, after all.
- It’s hilarious
This is tongue-in-cheek horror at the top of its game: comic without resorting to parody, while maintaining the constant sense of foreboding necessary for quality horror. The gross-out sequences are spot-on, evoking laughs and groans in equal measure. The kind that makes me clap and make silly sounds.
So I’ll give it a Plus 5 on the funometre. All the boxes are ticked bar one. If you can use shoot a scene without CGI, then do. Apart from that, no gripes. It’s as cracking as the toes of an arthritic ballet dancer.
Everyone knows horror can be broken down into sub-genres. There’s the slasher movie, ghost stories, demonic possessions, zombie apocalypse flicks, torture porn, monster movies etc, and then there are the films that don’t really fit comfortably into any; those special cases that seem to warrant a category of their own. Clive Baker’s “Hellraiser” (1987) is such a great example of this, which is why it’s the subject of today’s review. And because I’ve not tapped into the 80s yet, which is foolish considering how much appropriate dressing up stuff I’ve got in my box (Just wait for the video review)
Speaking of boxes, *smooth lead in* Hellraiser tells the story of… well, it’s sort of about this… box. A puzzle actually, with the power to summon the Cenobites, beings driven by pure sensation; the masters of pleasure and pain who live in another reality and wish to take you with them. When Frank escapes their sadomasochistic clutches, only the blood of others will bring him back. Luckily his devoted sister-in-law is around to do his murderous bidding and restore him to his former skin-on glory. Easy as pie. Evil pie.
To be honest, you’ll get a better impression I just shout out a series of adjectives: kinky, grotesque, theatrical, sci-fi, gothic, surreal, eerie, beautiful, bizarre, epic as in grandiose, chilling, jumpy, dream-like, epic as in awesome!
Got it? Marvellous. I’ll be relatively brief and mention the two best aspects. Firstly, the soundtrack is like a John Williams impression of Danny Elfman composing the score for a nightmare…oh, oh… [rocks in corner] eeeeeh
Secondly, the effects are… It’s films like this that remind me why it is I love horror. Getting to see some full on 80s body gore, for me personally, is an absolute treat. It’s like Christmas, but rather than getting a present you get to see someone’s face fall off. I love it. Not only that, but everything about the idea of the cenobite dimension is so wonderfully, visually creative. Though the most iconic of the creatures, Pinhead is actually the least interesting to look at, and he has a nail lattice over his face. Check out Chattering Cenobite. I wonder if hell’s frozen over… ‘cos his teeth are chattering… it’s cold, ya know..
I’ll warn you now, it’s quite an odd film and the acting is beyond ridiculous, but I really couldn’t care less. Hellraiser gets a plus 5 on the funometer. Feel free to disagree, but it ticks all of my “boxes”.
The tagline is “we will tear your soul apart”. Well Clive Baker, you tore my MIND apart with your AWESOME FILM.
Yeah.
A master with hands that big? No wonder the Doll learned to work itself...
I’m going to come clean and admit that this one wasn’t a request, but the DVD was cheap and the title intrigued me.
Okay.
Despite the wealth of classic horror-tropes that feature (evil hypnotist, possessed dummy, no-frills journalist, voluptuous victims etc.) Devil Doll doesn’t quite know what genre it’s trying to plump for. My guess? a surrealist take on a film-noir adaptation of an undiscovered Edgar Allen Poe.
Baffled? So was I whilst watching it.
The storyline concerns the creepy hypno-ventriloquist (quite a popular career choice in the 60s, or so I’m led to believe), The Great Vorelli, whose unscrupulous desire for money leads him to Marianne Horne, heiress and esteemed beauty. Determined to nab her cash, Vorelli uses his powers to seduce poor Marianne away from her hack of a boyfriend, and into the deadliest of traps.
Oh, and there’s a doll with a soul. Called Hugo. He’s German.
What does it do well? There’s definitely tension, thanks to a nice selection of long takes and an epic cello score, and I was fond of the canted angles and negative shots, too. Surprisingly, the acting isn’t (on the whole) completely laughable. Yvonne Romain does a great job making Marianne likeable, as opposed to merely irritating, and Bryant Haliday’s Vorelli is just camp enough to be fun without being silly. However, the script is bad, the editing is beyond terrible, and the ending… Oh lord, the ending. Either the budget got cut midway through filming, or the director died. There can be no other explanation.
A good example of early British horror this is not, but there are moments when I thought YES! THIS IS WHAT I WANTEoh it went crap again. We give it a plus 2 on the fun-o-meter, bearing in mind that, though not a brilliant film, the bits I enjoyed were the bits done well. The bad stuff wasn’t funny, it was just bad. Hugo should have had a more pivotal role as the eponymous character, and could have been creepier to look at. On the Nose dialogue and scrappy editing made it feel particularly poor quality, even though some of the directorial touches were nice.
All in all, a bit of a dummy.
BOOM.
Two of the less enthusiastic audience members voice their post-screening frustrations
The second shark, and third general sea-based horror for review is the just released 3D epic, Shark Night…3D. Directed with delicacy and precision by horror visionary Thomas R Ellis, this cerebral fantasy challenges its viewer I’M JOKING. It’s about a group of opportunistic hicks attaching cameras to Sharks to film them eating college kids. Mr Ellis’ filmography includes classy titles like Homeward Bound 2 and Snakes on a Plane, and that’s only under his directorial achievements (he started out as a stunt man), so you can imagine the sort of angle he was going for with this aquatic feasting fest.
There’s a cracking sequence with a flying, flaming speedboat, and two of the many, many deaths in the film were suitably entertaining, but on the whole it lacked punch. Possibly the certificate of release held it back a little, but after such modern classics as the previously reviewed Piranha 3D, disaster com-horrors need to step up their games a little. There’s a lot of bad feeling amongst film fans towards the overuse of computer graphics in films (thoughts?), but it’s generally only berated in reference to quality cinema. It’s important to remember that bad CGI has a real heritage in terrible 90s/00s flicks (See Shark Attack 3) and, when used properly, can contribute to the comedy potential of a sequence no end. Yet, being used knowingly/deliberately for this purpose reverses the effect; a problem Shark Night 3D certainly suffers from. Animatronix and prosthetics are where the gold lies, people, don’t forget it.
Speaking of CGI gripes, it’s time to talk about DDD.
3D. Get it? Nevermind.
Even saying the word…Well, letter-number combination can be enough to lose/gain an audience. Speaking specifically as a horror fan, the concept shouldn’t be dismissed purely as a new fad because it’s a technique that’s been around since the fifties. The idea of immersive cinema is one that intrigues, rather than repels me, and I mourn being too young to have ever had the opportunity to experience “Sensurround” (Google it). My personal problems with 3D are simple; firstly, it just isn’t very good. The classic “fuzzy edge” effect gets tiresome very quickly, and can even creep into the centre of the screen. Secondly, it’s relied upon as the main attraction, so lazy filmmaking sneaks in as a result. The conversion of standard formatting into 3D should be banned outright, because it’s laughable, and 3D specific releases should embrace the affect, rather than coast on it. Did Shark Night need to be in 3D? No. Did sharks fly purposefully out of the screen and at my face? No. There was a little projectile flesh gunk and that was it.
Were there any saving graces at all? Well, a personal highlight was the inclusion of some rather incongruous moral philosophising from the principal bad-guy. Take THAT Moral Relativism. But aside from that, it ticks along as one would expect. Not awful, but by no means fantastic.
So on the fun-o-meter, Shark Night 3D gets a -2. The deaths could have been a lot more dramatic to watch, and the general feel could have been a little more ridiculous. Maybe Snakes in a Lake would have been a better plot for him.
WARNING: The following video depicts hairstyles that some viewers may find offensive.
The next film we [cut away] “Be honest, it’s just you” [cut back] Yeah. Yeah it is just me. The next film I’ve been asked to review is Nicolas Roeg’s 1973 psychcological horror “Don’t Look Now” starring two of the coolest leads of the 1970s – The Julie Christie, known for her elegance and effortless on screen charm, and Donald Sutherland of Mash, Animal House and 24(ish). Even Bridges hails him as a fashion icon honestly, this bloke is cooler than a fridge bobsleighing on an iceberg inside another fridge. Serious cool.
Based on Daphne Du Maurier’s novel, Don’t Look Now follows the lives of a young couple recovering in Venice after the recent death of their daughter. After meeting a mysterious, allegedly clairvoyant sister act *gospel nun cut-away*, No. Laura learns of the mortal danger her husband is in for as long as he remains in Italy.
There are one or two jumpy moments, but the majority of the tension is established by playing with the audience’s expectations. Every character encountered by the couple is depicted as suspicious in some way; flashes of the sisters’ hag-like cackling, even close-ups of the priest’s hands as he shiftily fondles his vestments – it is impossible to know who to trust. There are times when even the props become intimidating, like how this phone obscures the face of their dead daughter, as if erasing her identity entirely, or this bath… Because baths are always spooky. Then, of course, there’s the supernatural elements the film; Baxter continually sees what he believes to be the ghost of his dead daughter running through the confusing passages of the Venetian canals, and the horribly violent visions suffered by the blind psychic.
A little like Venice, the plot is somewhat maze-like; it’s difficult to say what the film is actually about, but this is no doubt intentional, a narrative device designed to throw the viewer into as much uncertainty as the protagonists. But in spite of this, the general execution *mwahahaha* is smart, and unquestionably beautiful. For the paranoids among you, or those who appreciate cinematographic motifs, eyes really are everywhere, often being used to foreshadow some of the more ominous moments in the film. See here, for example, how Jesus himself can be seen to watch over Baxter as he hangs precariously from the ceiling of the cathedral, there to save his body, or guide his soul to the next life – it’s hard to tell.
Don’t Look Now gets a plus 4 on the Funometer. I was thoroughly absorbed by the story, which was brought to the screen with stylish sophistication. It might have received a better score if the fear factor had been more focussed; too many subplots diluted the overall impact, and the number of suspicious characters made it feel like I was watching Midsummer Murders on Holiday.
