Film Notes 2022: other Horrors

I have already written about my genre favourites ‘Deadstream’ and ‘The Innocents’ and many others in my previous Notes, so don’t forget them HERE and HERE.

The first thing about Damien Leone’s ‘Terrifier 2’ is its length: well over two hours for a slasher? Unheard of! But I was never bored, even when it fell into a He’s dead! No he’s not! She’s dead! No she’s not! loop. The overriding issue it presented was that by having an unkillable supernatural killer motivating by coulrophobia and sadism, there was nothing to vouch for, since he was unvanquishable, other than a litany of kill scenes. There was a lot of sibling family stuff to convince you there was humanity in there, but when it could only retreat into magic to resolve its issues, all that was left was sadism and silliness. But the practical effects were impressive and David Howard Thornton truly unnerved in as Art the Clown. And box office popular,

Probably what non-horror fans think horror is: over two hours of sadism and outrageous gore with a magic sword get-out clause.

But Christian Tafdrup’s ‘Speak No Evil’ troubled me in a different way, and I am yet to fully untangle my appreciation from the reservations on that one. I’ll write on it later.

So to other women in the slasher playing field. 

Shana Feste’s ‘Run Sweetheart Run’: Not quite what might be anticipated at first, but a bright and breezy woman-in-peril story updated with contemporary feminist concerns directed by a woman, which is a welcome trend and upgrade to the sub-genre. It’s slick and colourful and aware but doesn’t quite fulfil its promise. The moments of breaking the fourth wall are a little too cute and smug (where he stops the camera from following when he does his worst; he smirkingly does this as, condescendingly and controllingly, he doesn’t want us to see his guilt rather than the camera independently averting its complicit gaze out of respect). The importance of the manipulative, corrupt omnipresent power of the patriarchy is somewhat reduced to secondary when the supernatural takes over. The feminist concerns are mostly resolved in kick-ass fashion, although Ella Ballinska delivers more nuance than just archetype. Entertaining rather than astute.

With an almost sit-com brightness and lightness, Hannah Barlow and Kane Senes’ ‘Sissy’ allows the social runt a little revenge fantasy, as is the genre’s wont. The twist is all Cecelia’s malevolence and psychopathy is hidden behind the surface veneer smile and empowerment of the “influencer” trend (a lively and sympathetic Aisha Dee). ‘Eighth Grade’ goes slasher, sort of. It fails to address the race issue that is visible (they’re white; Sissy is black) but its play with dark humour and nastiness makes this an enjoyable horror farce.

Although relatively straightforward genre piece, Sissy/Cecelia was a relatively complex character. Recent trends have shown the serial killer genre looking in more shaded corners for more nuance, and certainly by centring on women it they show up and criticise the demands put upon and roles expected of women. 

Take Jill Gevargizian’s ‘The Stylist’. The strength of this particular slasher variation is that it’s a centred in a feminine world. The motivation – there’s no explanatory flashback here – seems to be a homicidal insecurity and envy of other, apparently more certain feminine identities (not so dissimilar to the ‘Cabinet of Curiosities’ episode ‘The Outside’). The scalpings are quite matter-of-factly presented and nasty (I think, after ‘Maniac’, that scalpings really get to me) and, although there’s nothing new here, the presentation is clean, vivid and often deceptively casual, distinguished by Najarra Townsend’s excellent performance, swinging from gorgeous to desperate with ease. And Brea Grant is always reliable. A solid contemporised slasher, and somewhere in here is a criticism of the toll it takes choosing and playing the roles expected of women.

Or Joe Le Truglio’s ‘Outpost’, for example, which takes a moment to settle down and make sense, but soon relaxes in to a seemingly straightforward tale of a woman trying to escape a troubled past of domestic abuse by becoming a fire marshal atop a forest lookout. A film unafraid to takes its time, strong on empathy and performances – Dylan Baker as the prickly neighbour and Ato Essandoh as Kate’s taciturn boss were personal favourites. 

It was obvious from the FrightFest Q&A afterwards that Joe Lo Truglio wanted to be as sympathetic to his approach to PTSD with a potentially conventionally conventional thriller, and it is this that distinguishes ‘Outpost’ and motivates as well as allows for its narrative surprises.

And then there was Brea Grant’s ‘Torn Hearts’, in which an average and hokey country music rags-to-riches story finds itself in a Gothic horror scenario in pursuit of that one golden chance and breakthrough. It’s a lot of fun as it becomes increasingly unhinged with three great central performances – with Katey Sagal the standout, making the most of her role without going full ham. Brea Grant proves again that she is a solid brand.

Dario Argento gave us ‘Dark Glasses’. We are at the stage with Argento where there are not any impressive set-pieces to offset the daftness. Admittedly, I find Argento films unintentional comedies, so I am not the one to come to for maestro love. And this is no different (excepting  ‘Suspiria’, which I do love). Dodgy “blind” acting; dodgy police procedure; “Let’s hide in the reeds!” and the water snake attack with the following road fight, is notably comedy gold. Unconvincing. But funny.

Ti West’s ‘X’ was the favourite, proving again that vivid execution can elevate a homage. West recreations of horrors from previous era never feel condescending or fawningly fanboyish, but rather meticulous and loving like the care taken to make miniatures.  

Similarly, where one in five genre films seem to be homages of some kind, John Swab’s ‘Candy land’ proved most impressive. even though you feel you might catch some some very nasty germs or a STD just by watching it, and even though it’s explicit, it never quite feels sleazy. But it IS gory and a shocker. One of those films that IS the era rather than just pastiche, but with a modern sensibility. Well played and effortlessly engrossing, it’s got its subversive side in that it’s not the blasphemous sex workers that are the unhinged.

There was also a nice Seventies vibe to Scott Errickson’s ‘The Black Phone’. Popular and a little tonally imbalanced – from vivid and shocking teenage bullying violence to ‘Goosebumps’ level ghostly apparitions – it was nevertheless enjoyable. 

The other more mainstream horror favourite was Parker Finn's ‘Smile’. We know this stuff and perhaps the promise was of something a little different, but it does this well. (Have to agree with AlfredAngier that this is a good movie with a bad one trying to overpower it - but it never does.) It’s horror fun, well-executed with many memorable images and genuinely unsettling with its nightmare monster feeding on trauma. Its problematic subtext of suicide/mental illness as a supernatural virus is one that the film doesn’t seem self-aware of in its superficial thrills and genre tropes.

Quietly smug and smart, ‘Bodies Bodies Bodies’ by Halina Reijn was a horror satire highlight. Fun with slasher tropes at the expense of privileged obnoxious teens, typical of the genre, where the greatest threat is their own pettiness and egos. Colourful, entertaining, full of knowing performances and satirical enough to raise a smirk.

Also of note was the Adams family’s ‘Hellbender’, building oin the genre promise of ‘The Digger You Deep’. The Adam’s family have proven that they make reliable horror of ideas, atmosphere and attitude  rather than budget. 

And Kate Dolan’s ‘You Are not My Mother’. Where mental illness is a monster from folklore. But the film’s true power is in the portrayal of the streets of a friendless, grey, unforgiving world that is as tangible as Ken Loach. The allegory is obvious but not hammered home (something the wonderful ‘Hatching’ was guilty of), and it is the young resilience of Hazel Doupe and the broken/crazed performance of Carolyn Bracken that strike emotional chords. This is the place where the shabby mundane meets the supernatural without a blink, undermining family stability. This is an excellent example of the special place horror traverses between the nightmares of reality and fantasy.

And ‘The Deep House’. Directors Bustillo & Maury are always worth watching, and are particular good with location and set-up and above average with characterisation. This is no different, being Underwater Haunted House, and played for all that's worth with many memorable images and much creepiness. But, just like their 'Among the Living', there's the sense that it ends up a little too average although there's a lot of flair, technological and otherwise.

Then there was the surprisingly good entry into the Predator franchise in  Dan Trachtenberg’s ‘Prey’. Although erring on the side of earnestness rather than fun – every five minutes we’re reminded that the patriarchy isn’t respecting how kick-ass this girl is – this is probably the least insulting Predator sequel. A little temporal relocation and forgoing the Urban Jungle stuff, a little reboot of the predator’s look and some decent action and we’re in solidly entertaining territory.

Oh, and Mark Mylod's 'The Menu'. Although you will go in knowing the nature of the beast, there's enough unpredictability to keep you at the table and the sprinkling of social commentary adds a little substance. Mostly, it's an enjoyable enough Mad Chef tale.

And there were others, but I reckon I am done here. 

The only film that I actively disliked was the Soska Sister's ' 'On The Edge', I'm afraid. Aramis Sartorio gives his all while the Soskas pose and pout their performances. Any message about female empowerment is filtered into sadism-revenge fantasy as a family man that books a dominatrix in a hotel gets more than he bargained for. This sadism-revenge agenda also guided the Soska’s far superior ‘American Mary’ but the body-horror fascination there is replaced by two-bit Catholic morals here. Anal rape is the main source of humour. But even more egregious is the badly recorded diagetic dialogue and amateurish sound mix that makes much incomprehensible. Which is problematic for a film that is constantly talking at you. Eventually it devolves into strobe lighting and bible verse and a simplistic morality play that makes a nonsense of any of its transgressive and feminist intent.

Look to 'Promising Young Woman', 'The Beta Test' or even 'The Special' for more nuanced, troubling and fun interrogations of these themes.

So the first film I saw I saw at the cinema in 2023 was 'Enys Men', so that's off to a good start. That was after I started this year with a week of COVID, which turned out to be a fully enjoyable binge-watching era, because I couldn't manage to do anything else.

Frightfest 2022 Day 3: 'Something in the Dirt', 'She Came from the Woods', 'LOLA', 'Dark Glasses', Candy Land', 'Deadstream'

Something in the Dirt

Directors: Justin Benson, Aaron Moorhead.

With: Justin Benson, Aaron Moorhead,

Sarah Adina Smith, Ariel Vida.

USA 2022. 116 mins.

Another wonderfully heady offering from the Moorhead & Benson duo. What starts seemingly as a couple of guys find incredible phenomena in their LA apartment, which thy then intend to document/exploit, unfolds into full-scale conspiracy theorising and increasing sadness. Filmed by the duo and producer during lockdown, again it’s the stacking up of ideas that engross (morse code in fruit!), but their evocation of male relationships are always excellent. As an vocation of thinking you have something wold-shattering that you can't quite reach so head into conspiracies and delusion, it stands as a striking analogy. 

From the first flush of friendship to the moment where the more you know of someone, the more you can hit your target hen you criticise, they excel at providing deep characterisation so that even their arguing during mid-phenomena doesn’t strain credibility.

She Came Frrom The Woods

Director: Erik Bloomquist.

With: Cara Buono, Clare Foley, William Sadler, Spencer List.

USA 2022. 101 mins.

Summer camp. Kim Wilde's ‘The Kids in America’. Yep, it’s the 80s homage. The turning point from coming-of-age to horror is the high point, coming as a surprise, and from there on it’s a well-done homage of things you’ve seen before, but enjoyable as horror comfort food. With acting  a cut above average and a somewhat uninteresting spook.

LOLA

Director: Andrew Legge.

With: Emma Appleton, Stefanie Martini,

Rory Fleck Byrne, Aaron Monaghan,

Hugh O’Conor.

UK 2022. 76 mins.

Hugely impressive and inventive alternative history filmed with a Bolex camera and vivid imagination, blended with reimaged historical footage. A highlight is the music by Neil Hannon, reinventing popular songs for this alternative reality. It's all thoroughly convincing. The scope the film is able to achieve is wide, with the skill to hand to make it work while formally playing with the medium. Quietly stunning, provocative and a festival highlight.

Dark Glasses

Director: Dario Argento.
With: Ilenia Pastorelli, Asia Argento,
Andrea Gherpelli, Mario Pirrello.

Italy 2022. 86 mins.

We are at the stage where there are not any set-pieces to offset the daftness. Admittedly, I find Argento films unintentional comedies, and this is no different (excepting ‘Suspiria’, which I love). Dodgy “blind” acting; dodgy police procedure; “Let’s hide in the reeds!” and the water snake attack with the following road fight, is notably comedy gold. Unconvincing. But funny.

Candy Land 

Director John Swab.

With: William Baldwin, Eden Brolin, Olivia Luccardi,

Sam Quartin.

USA 2022. 90 mins

And here’s the grindhouse homage. But even though you feel you might catch some some very nasty germs or a STD just by watching it, and even though it’s explicit, it never quite feels sleazy. But it IS gory and a shocker. One of those films that IS the era rather than just pastiche, but with a modern sensibility. Well played and effortlessly engrossing, it’s got its subversive side in that it’s not the blasphemous sex workers that are the unhinged.

Deadstream

Directors: Joseph Winter, Vanessa Winter.

With: Joseph Winter, Melanie Stone,

Jason K. Wixom, Pat Barnett.

USA 2022. 87 mins.

Showcasing Joseph Winter’s brilliant comic performance, this is both hilarious and scary. The relatively new internet culture genre is truly finding its footing, and perhaps reaping more multi-layered rewards than just straight Found Footage. Certainly, our funny internet-celebrity protagonist has to face manifestations of his own fame-hungry demons.

Peppered with many great one-liners and details that reap narrative rewards later, belying its seemingly superficial veneer. The social media comments scrolling are sure to provide even more comedy upon a second watch. But, again, considering how daft this is, and no there is just something inherently creepy about empty buildings like this. I admit also to being on edge at times.

The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence

The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence

Writer & director: Tox Six

2011, Netherlands

Even friends warned me off this one. 

Tom Six’s original ‘The Human Centipede’ possessed an ultimate provocative basis, one that has now become a mainstream meme: even those who haven’t seen the film are likely to know the premise. A line of people stitched together mouth-to-butt. To elaborate: a madman with an accent abducts unfortunate Americans for his plan to make the human centipede of the title, mouth-to-anus, etc. And it’s this horror stunted at the oral and anal stages that Mary Wild* thinks is the true cause for the gag-reflex reactions and criticisms, and there’s a lot to that. A black comedy, a mad scientist romp crossed with torture porn, more akin to, say, ‘Re-Animator’, or ‘The Flesh Eaters’ or some Universal classic (certainly is shares the jet-black blood of the latter). Although it never seemed to be really mentioned, it had an evident tongue-in-cheek twinge that was ignored because people were so busy being disgusted/delighted at the outrageous premise. It was flirting happily with the SO-BAD-IT’S-GOOD pleasures. Certainly, Dieter Laser played it to the campy mad scientist hilt, holding it all together. There was negligible dialogue and characterisation, but there also seemed to be a knowingness that seemed to indicate that this was predominantly intentional. And it had a gloss too.

But my curiosity with ‘The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence’ was that this was Tom Six’s apparent response to genre fans admonishing ‘The Human Centipede’ for not being extreme enough. So, this sequel is surely a jibe at those wanting something more extreme: the central figure is a repulsive, mentally challenged psychopathic fan that lives with his abusive mother, can’t tell reality from fiction and thinks the original is a manual for his sandpaper-assisted masturbatory fantasies. Martin – a gleefully repellent Lawrence R Harvey – works as a security guard, re-watching the original film repeatedly and keeping a scrapbook saying “100% medically accurate”. One of his victims screams, “It’s just a fucking movie!” When Martin entices the original star of ‘The Human Centipede’ to come to London, she witters on about getting parts in a Tarantino movie and surely clearly broadcasts that she is in on the joke. There’s the smidge of industry satire here. But is this film criticising or just GIVING ‘EM WHAT THEY WANT? Maybe it isn’t a jibe at all, but rather meeting the challenge to cross the line of extremity, a laying down of the gauntlet. 

From the very start, ‘The Human Centipede 2’ does its successful best not to be liked or in any way appealing. Martin is repulsive, Harvey oozing into the role with goggle-eyed gusto. It’s the kind of role that gets cult kudos, that makes and breaks career opportunities. There is also the side to Martin of a bullied, damaged protagonist punishing those that mistreat him. We know how it’s going to go with the neighbour playing his music too loud: this is not a subtle film. Then there’s the black-and-white, as a means to mitigate the gore, which should add a little class maybe, but also adds to the griminess and mostly makes the rain look black (a wonderfully oppressive if not surreal effect). James Edward Barker’s score is a relentless drone, and there’s no reprieve in the sound-design. Then there’s the portrayal of an unappealing Britishness, the kind that runs through B-horrors like ‘K-Shop’ and ‘Mum & Dad’, full of dodgy dialogue and hysterical caricatures. It’s almost like a hybrid of ‘Eraserhead’ and John Waters and ‘Maniac’. Superficially, it’s slicker than those films - for it has decent production values that make the effects a cut above (so to speak) - although those are classics. But those films were more than just exercises in audience punishment. 

And then ‘Full Sequence’ gets to the third act, which jettisons the artistic ellipses and is just relentless torture. Martin wields a syringe like a mad doctor and tries to classically conduct his work, like many a psychopath before him, not least of all Hannibal Lector. But ultimately, even he vomits. As a delivery system of shocks, carefully graduated to see exactly how much you the viewer can take, it is a triumph. The ridiculous extremity of the mother murder is that kind designed to elicit the WTF laughter from gorehounds. But by the end, no one is likely to be laughing: it is because the subsequent extremity is increasingly centred in degradation and relentlessness. Like ‘A Serbian Film’, it’s set up as a challenge, an endurance test. Then the comeuppance, a lurch for poetic justice, harks back to that laughing-at-extremity-ridiculousness. 

On-set effects supervisor Dan Martin and Lawrence R. Harvey make it explicit that Tom Six’s agenda was to show his detractors how extreme he could be, and certainly the construction of the centipede is gruelling, more like what people expected from the original.* It’s very disarming to hear these creators laugh their way through discussions and interviews about ‘The Human Centipede 2’, to hear Harvey of how he reached the role of Martin as performance art. One can trace back to Grand Guignol: “You came to be shocked, no”? Martin talks of how he gave Six a list of BBFC taboos and Six seemed to be ticking them off like a TO DO list.

But Six and Harvey were also referencing Euro-art films, ‘Salo’ being the obvious touchstone. The thing is that the extremity of ‘Evil Dead’ and ‘Re-Animator’ is for comic effect; serious works like ‘Salo’ and ‘Martyrs’ have political and socio-critical intent, commentating on the very cruelty they are depicting. Waters films have camp goals to challenge conservative norms. I have seen Six’s ‘Full Sequence’ as a gibe at the horror fan that thinks they want MORE, but it doesn’t actually feel condescending, unlike Haneke’s ‘Funny Games’. It doesn’t feel poignant and tragic like ‘Henry: portrait of a serial killer’ or ‘Maniac’, or even ‘Santa Sangre’.  Probably because it doesn’t really end on tragedy. Certainly Martin can be conceived as a tragic character, horribly abused, let down by a care system and articulating that abuse in the most demented way possible, but the film makes sure sympathy is not an option long before the barbed-wire rape (a moment apparently cut from the version I saw). Tragedy is not a lingering aftertaste. 

But there is also a reading of it as a criticism of and reaction to the arguments that greeted ‘The Human Centipede’: Six was apparently frequently asked if he was concerned about copycats. The sequel asks, “How would that work? See how absurd that is?” Dan Martin speaks of the fact that the 2012 Colorado shooting has a clear link to Nolan's ‘Batman’ movies, but that it hasn’t hurt that franchise at all. Compare with the rabid UK tabloid reaction to ‘Child’s Play 3’ and withdrawal because it was claimed it had been seen by the murderers: the link is far more tenuous. By amping up to ridiculous levels, ‘Full Sequence’ tries to show the accusations against the concept as absurd.

“The film is reprehensible, dismaying, ugly, artless and an affront to any notion, however remote, of human decency.” So says Robert Ebert, which is exactly its come-on for extremity fans. But ‘The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence’ is perhaps too inside itself and its own genre commentary to illicit the kind of poignancy of the other extreme classics. There is perhaps the sense of a near-miss with Six. As an unforgiving exercise in offensiveness and extremity, as an endurance test, it succeeds and on this it stands. Whether that is enough depends upon your taste. Certainly, I wasn’t inclined to either condemn or commend ‘Full Sequence’. For all its carnival of the gross and grotesque, it ultimately doesn’t have that subtextural sucker-punch of something more, something beyond its in-joke to elevate it.

References to Dan Martin and Laurence R Harvey and Mary Wild taken from: Evolution Of Horror pt 27: The Human Centipede 2 - 

https://open.spotify.com/episode/4QN89yyj3xhX559N65uY0l