Saturday 9 March 2024

Out of Darkness

Out of Darkness

Director ~ Andrew Cumming

Writers ~ Ruth Greenberg, Andrew Cumming, Oliver Kassman

2022, United Kingdom

Stars ~ Iola Evans, Arno Lüning, Rosebud Melarkey

 

Horror tropes in a Stone Age setting makes for a freshening of familiar material. There are deep shadows, conflicts in the group, noises in the dark and a pit of bones and remains. The mood is dour and desperate with the wide-open spaces just as threatening as the claustrophobia of the dense forest. Its most impressive and distinguishing feature is the invented language that the characters/actors speak – called “Tola”, invented by Daniel Andersson and based on Arabic and Basque, a defining highlight that is akin to the linguistic attention and ambition of Robert Eggers. It certainly sounds meticulous and convincing. But this conceit doesn’t crimp the pace as Ruth Greenberg’s script and Oliver Kassman directs to tear through the familiarities and with the accent on characterisation. 

 

This is a group not of familial bonds but one brought together by despair and necessity. They are not the usual two-dimensional characters that this kind of scenario can coast on, although the script is clear to make clear how their identities are subsumed by hierarchy and their designated status in the social unit. They are recognisably layered outcasts, defined by the roles they must play and the conflict this has with their deeper personalities. This is then the point, an attempt at a realistic rendition of the brutality needed to survive and at the basis of civilisation.  

 

In this way, it makes this tale of a burgeoning civilisation an introspective, pensive, and credible one. ‘Out of Darkness’ emerges from its use of tropes to make a commentary on the brutality inherent in the survival and brutality of civilisation, developing as a headier excursion than it seems to superficially begin. It’s this that elevates it more than just its entertaining allusions to horror.  If not quite exceptional, a little bit of a minor gem.

 

Wednesday 28 February 2024

The Iron Claw

The Iron Claw

Director ~ Sean Durkin

Writer ~ Sean Durkin

2024,

Stars ~ Zac Efron, Jeremy Allen White, Harris Dickinson

 

Perhaps expecting a telling of the all-wrestling Von Erich family to go the way of all tropey sports films, it was only when realising that Sean Derkin was directing that I became intrigued. Derkin’s ‘The Nest’ had a faintly off-kilter manner, a chill and distance and a sensibility for melodrama that felt more indie than mainstream that I prefer.

The target of ‘The Nest’ is a self-deluded, desperate charlatan of a father, and ‘The Iron Claw’ similarly ultimately lays the blame of constant tragedy at the feet of toxic masculinity, enabled by a distracted/indifferent mother. Holt MacCallany gives an excellent bristling and bullying turn as the patriarch that turns his family into a cult. Or, as Letterboxd commenter dylan troesken writes, “when your“family curse” is just the mere existence of your father”. Fritz's way is more manipulation and psychological shoving whilst he leaves the physical punishment to the ring (as far as the film goes).

 
The fights are brutish and there is no doubt that they that they bruise, no matter the camaraderie of the faux-adversaries behind the scenes. This is violence made family-friendly and almost huggable by the set-ups and pantomime, by the operatic depiction of machismo. But faking it hurts and Durkin leaves no doubt to that. All this is as expected, but these fights that you assume to be the fulcrum of the melodrama are not the peak moments, as damaging and ferocious as they are, for they are almost the backdrop for the wider family narrative (and relegated to montages at times, made necessary to pack in as much story as possible). It’s the family drama that dominates and it is here that Durkins’ way with melodrama is most at play.

  

The Von Erich brothers have a strong bond, despite and because of parental figures that seem to swing between poles of dominance and disinterest: we see them partying but not in the kegging jock way we are familiar with such films. Their closeness is rendered in vignettes as well as bouts. We know the tropes, so when one brother says he’s going for a ride during an emotional peak, we know the narrative rules, but we skip to the consequences. It’s in daddy’s disappointed glare. It’s in the striking scene where mom has a grief-stricken fashion crisis when she realises she is wearing the same black dress as last funeral. The film is full of such moments and if there is inevitably a skipping-stone narrative over the major points, it doesn’t dimminish the cumulative gut-punch.

And for sure, those that know that story might be disappointed with omissions, which defines these kinds of films. Indeed, the Letterboxd comments is dotted with accusations that the film is a soft on Fritz. If you didn’t know the story ~ and I didn’t ~ it’s a shock to learn that there was another wrestling brother that followed a similar path. In passing, Mark Kermode’s review mentions that Durkin omitted Chris because: how much tragedy can you take? And yes, it would feel like heavy-handedness, surely? I mean, you can’t sell all this as fiction, right? Indeed, but this additional detail only belies a pattern, not a curse, of something damaged and damaging. No supernatural curse here.

There is a quiet anger marinated in heart ache here. But it’s Zac Efron’s performance as a somewhat gentle giant Kevin that stands out, a stunning wrestler’s physique almost blocking out all else until the nuances shine through. All this tragedy culminates in a moment where he gets to truly stick the landing with a most singular instant heartbreaker of a line. Like ‘Past Lives’, another film where you don’t truly realise the emotional impact until the finale. 

Sunday 25 February 2024

"Signs of Radical Midnight" - album by Buck Theorem

 This one is ambient & instrumental. Designed for when your mind drifts with tales of animals and space, loss and snack-times. 


Recorded at The Hide-Out, finished February 2024.

Wednesday 21 February 2024

Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger

Sinbad and the Eye of the tiger

Director ~ Sam Wanamaker

Writers ~ Beverley Cross, Ray Harryhausen

1977, UK

Stars ~ Patrick Wayne, Jane Seymour, Taryn Power

 

Both the characterisation and dialogue veers between bad and bland, and often the story depends upon stupidity (“Are you looking for THIS? And THIS?” “Let me try this magic potion on a mosquito that looks like a bee!…”) and there’s a streak of inconsistency and daftness, as if this is just a first draft script.

 

“Best to keep him caged,” then he’s playing chess on deck, etc).

Or:

“Sounds like an earthquake!”

“There can be only one possible answer!”

“The witch…!”

Oh, so “earthquake” wasn’t the logical answer?

Or:

How does he think he’ll win the fight on the stairs?

Or:

One minute Trog fears the temple entrance; the next he’s helping them lift the lock on the door.

            Or:

The gull-foot seems to be forgotten about.

 

And a little casual sexism and racism and full of both impressive and bad matte work. But you don’t really go to a Harryhausen film for the script (by Harryhausen and Beverley Cross) we’re here for Harryhausen creations and in that we can be satisfied. The opening ghoul attack is promising, but mostly it’s oversized animals rather than monsters. The Minaton radiates inhuman menace (apparently Patrick Mayhew was the stand-in, having just been ‘Star Wars’ Chewbacca) and the Trogolyte and the baboon out-act everyone else. Whereas Margaret Whiting gives the hammiest villain she can ham, the subtlety and nuance of Harryhausen’s amazing work on the baboon is perhaps lost because it is not making realistic the fantastic but realising something more recognisable and by extension, less magical.  Of all the sets, it’s the journey through the ice tunnels with all the frescos of frozen victims that impresses most.

 

It's then a weaker work ~ yes, the Minaton creates a bit of a shudder of intimidation although its demise is a bit ignoble; the baboon is a fascinating achievement, but we live in a time w

here realistic sci-fi talking racoon is just a standard and one of a rash of CGI realistic critters on offer at any cinema season. Of course, ‘Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger’ came out the same year as ‘Star Wars’ and a new age was obviously being ushered in. The realism given a fantastical dinosaur in ‘Godzilla Minus Zero’ is astonishing, and yet there is always a place for going back to old-school stop-motion, because being aware that it is the work of one man’s dedication is still thrilling and jaw-dropping. So there is still awe and pleasure in Harryhausen’s effects work, but it is a shame that more strength of story doesn’t ward off datedness.