Men

Men

Writer & Director – Alex Garland

2022, UK

Stars – Jessie Buckley, Rory Kinnear, Paapa Essiedu

 

 

(You should not read this if you haven’t seen the film.)

 

The first thing noted is the issue of a man writing with this focus on the female experience of misogyny. A theme of Garland’s ‘Ex Machina’ was male objectification of a woman and the object turning the tables, so there’s precedent for this writer-director’s interest in gender issues. In the pro camp, ‘Men’ is a good film that carries its premise to the end, where its symbolism, eccentricities and outrageousness have meaning. In the con camp, he’s taking up valuable space that should be taken by women filmmakers; does he have the right? So Garland’s privilege as male filmmaker goes to mitigate ‘Men’s status as a successful provocation on behalf of female issues.

 

Attending horror film festivals, I have noted a welcome and inventive rise in films that centre unapologetically on the female experience: Bea Grant is one to watch (‘12 Hour Shift’, and especially ‘Lucky’), and Emerald Fennel’s ‘Promising Young Woman’, Natalie Erika Jones’ ‘Relic’, and of course Julia Ducournau’s ‘Raw’ and Emerald Fennel’s ‘Promising Young Woman’; and I was also mildy entertained but not convinced by Coralie Fargeat’s ‘Revenge’. So these voices are out there, but underheard and not quite in the mainstream. (I’m thinking of Kitty Green’s ‘The Assistant’ too.)

 

But it seems that even detractors are inclined to credit the atmosphere and the aesthetic of ‘Men’. The set piece where Harper’s (Jessie Buckley) innocuous walk the woods gets creepier and creepier, where she seemingly summons something when singing down a tunnel, is just one early highpoint. And then there’s the excellent performances of Rory Kinear, covering a wide spectrum of men. Kinear steps one step back from the caricature – broad but subtle – so the point about male modes doesn’t stumble into reductive stereotypes. It’s all coached in a near fairy-tale aesthetic (forbidden fruit and all that; but dandelion blowing verges on the trite), turning a small corner of an English village into an area where reality can’t be trusted.

 

This is the tale of a woman who thinks she is coping with the traumatic end to an abusive relationship, but when she gets away to a country cottage as a part of her recovery, the memory of her partner influences and infects every male she meets (men: they’re all the same). This memory makes all her interactions with men increasingly toxic and violent, culminating in excessive body-horror. It’s all there in the tagline: “What haunts you will find you.” If the outré ending baffles those that aren’t used to the language of genre extremes – ‘The Thing’, ‘Society’, ‘The Special’, early Cronenberg – it is a provocative body-horror metaphor of regurgitating/rebirthing misogyny across the ages and types of masculinity. It’s the kind of WTF moment that amuses the hell out of my inner horror fan, visceral and cathartic, unsettling, brutal. (I went in with no idea of where it would be going, or exactly what it would be intending, and I credit the trailer for being that rare example of fuelling my curiosity whilst keeping the mystery. Hence, I was fully and pleasingly surprised.)

But what I liked, in the middle of the rebirthing set-piece, is how Harper eventually just looked and walked away, as if to say, “I have no time for your showing-off, guy.” All the way through, it’s evident that she is no fool for the passive-aggressive abuse of men. She wastes no time in rejecting it or calling it out, even if she got herself into a bad situation in the first place. Nevertheless, this whole fantasia reveals that she isn’t coping as well as she thinks, and Harper is ultimately left on the sofa with the aggressive haunting of her ex-boyfriend asking if he she still loves him, after everything. It’s a tale of working through trauma.

 

It is then arguably not so much that Garland is stepping on the toes of the experience of female artists, but that he is using his platform to criticise his own gender. ‘Men’ doesn’t stop the film to explain, as does the otherwise wonderful ‘Get Out’, but neither is it as ambiguous as some credit it. Yet, for all its conclusive meaning, ‘Men’ echoed in me the broader satisfaction with confronting gender issues that I got from ‘The Special’, rather than the troubling aftertaste of sorrow from Bea Grant’s ‘Lucky’ or ‘Promising Young Female’, or even ‘The Beta Test’. As ‘The Special’ and ‘The Beta Test’ are evidently critical of the misogyny from male artists, from the inside as it were, these are surely more appropriate peers. And I count ‘Ex machina’ in this camp too. The difference is that ‘Men’ has a female avatar. That is to say that for all its dreamy veneer of trickery and profundity, it works best as a slow-burn visceral portrayal of one woman’s trauma, and in that sense it’s more akin to the broad end of b-movie expressions of the genre. And that can possess a cathartic and horror-hilarious quality that succeeds where other genres can’t. 

In Fabric

written & directed by

Peter Strickland, 2019, UK

My approving friend immediately called ‘In Fabric’ “Dario Argento’s ‘Are You Being Served?’.” And afterwards I saw and heard a couple of other reviewers (including the published kind) summarising it in the exact same way. I guess this is evidence that Strickland knew exactly what he was doing and hit his targets.

It’s the kind of thing that ought to be a mess – and another uncertain friend I saw it with thought it tonally all over the place – but its many disparate elements are threaded with the same rigid intent as Strickland’s previous films. It’s a horror-comedy for those amused right from the start by recognising the dummy hand falling into frame in the same manner as ‘Tombs of the Blind Dead’. It’s pastiche, parody, homage, capitalist satire, black comedy and absurdism and softcore porn with mannequins, all thrown into the washing machine and spun until it explodes.

Strickland’s previous films have been direct and serious affairs, not that they lacked black humour, but ‘In Fabric’ wears its deadpan more clearly. It’s signalled by Fatma Mohmed’s appearance as the saleswoman in Soper & Soper superstore, and even as Mohmed gives the most mannered of performances, precisely uttering sales-speak with hilarious pretensions to Shakespearean poignancy, Marianne Jean-Baptiste counters with a performance of down-to-earth naturalism that’s quintessentially English. It’s satirical affectation in one character and no-nonsense in the other. They shouldn’t work together in the same scene, but in this weird quasi-Seventies otherworld of killer dresses and sinister mannequins versus the humdrum of ordinary dull British lives, it does. In fact, the killer dress is presented as the least absurdist element, being genuinely sinister and dreamy by turns.

The domestic drama comes from a mother having to deal with her brazen son’s sex life, or the dullness of a washing machine repairman’s rote acceptance of marriage even as the killer dress perhaps unlocks unacknowledged kinks. There’s a particular English charmlessness evoked in the son’s dreary sex-obsession and hapless Clive’s (Leo Bill) monologues on washing machines, in Sheila’s (Jean-Baptiste) Tinder dates and Clive’s stag night. The horror and glamour come from the sinister and seemingly hypnotic hold the coven of otherworldly superstore staff have over their customers, seemingly harassing them with haunted dresses from time to time. The camp blends with the tawdry. On one hand, the film takes time with scenes of the odd bank manager couple in interviews where they take notes on dreams, and on the other there’s the Soper & Soper manager looming about like Nosferatu. Here is a film whose goriest moment comes from a rampaging washing machine. It’s this conflict of the humdrum and the bizarre that keeps it curious and unpredictable.

It is gelled together by a playfulness and surrealism that directs it right through an abrupt narrative left-turn that is jarring at first, but the tone is consistent making realignment quick. It then reminds a little of Hammer and Amicus anthologies: the continued homages are ripe and amusing but the film maintains its own agenda. One can only anticipate such a film where Ari Aster feels freed by genre instead of beholden to it. ‘In Fabric’ offers fetishism and kitsch horror in a decidedly amused English manner, going its own wilful way and never quite feeling the need to explain its mysteries. Strickland has always known the power of fetishizing the visual and of course that means his films are visual feasts – without underestimating the diligent attention to the audio palette. ‘In Fabric’s veneer is always beautiful, even in downbeat English homes. As Walter Chaw says,

"It understands that element of giallo that equates surface glamour, a certain luxurious hedonism, with various forms of infernal consumption."

Here, consumerism is malignant and ridiculous, resorting to hypnotism and pretentious, nonsensical slogans. And beneath it all, there seems to be a sweatshop…

Its themes of female power and identity flow fluidly from Strickland’s previous films. Here, men are mostly two-dimensional and subservient to female power (even a laddy dad is beholden to his bratty daughter): pathetic sitcom sad-sacks. ‘In Fabric’ is mostly interested in female identity: even Clive, the chief male protagonist, is notably uninteresting and lacks self-awareness. But as dominantly complex as they are, the women are still in pursuit of the right visual cue to appeal to men – but in this case, it’s a vampiric dress.

Of course, it won’t be for everyone, but Strickland has again produced a minor genre classic after ‘Berberian Sound System’. ‘In Fabric’ is different, but again Strickland has found less obvious corners of the genre to original, baffling and beguiling effect.

FrightFest Halloween All-Dayer 2019

I do wonder why it took me so long to come these all-dayers since I have been attending the August FrightFest weekenders for seen years now. Anyway, this is my second Halloweener. You'd perhaps think there would be more dressing up, but the party atmosphere was all present and correct, even if the wealthy outside in Leicester Square was appalling.

‘Candy Corn’… sorry: ‘Josh Hasty’s Candy Corn’ (his name is all over the credits) is the kind of feature I always think lurks around the recommendations on Amazon Prime when you select a B-horror. It trades in standard genre tropes – here, it’s supernatural slasher – but has no interest in presenting them in any interesting way. A Halloween prank turns nasty in a travelling carnival and vengeance is unleashed. Everything is drawn out and yet underdeveloped. The stock characters barely leave an impression, but for Pacho Moler (Moler often acting out with his jaw) and Tony Todd; the latter only notable because he’s a genre name, but he doesn’t really get to do anything here except to be grimly disapproving. The social politics of the carnival isn’t investigated at all, although apparently we are meant to intuit something. In the younger cast members, you have Caleb Thomas, who was so winning in ‘Turbo Kid’ and sympathetic in ‘Terror of All Hallows Eve’, so it’s a shame he has such an early boring kill scene: sure, his spine is ripped out but most of it is focused on his face being pressed against a wall. And that’s a main problem: as the kill scenes are these are great shrugs, they don’t redeem the many stretches of filler. Low budget doesn’t mean you should skimp on imaginative execution or at least amusing excess. It’s the kind of film that uses so-mo and lonely piano chords for drama, assuming you are emotionally invested. But that’s quite a nice mask and there is one memorable wide shot of our slasher in a deserted cinema.

Josh Hasty, 2019, USA

‘We Summon the Darkness’ (Marc Meyers, 2019) centres on three All-American girls teens with obnoxiousness and privilege all evident. Or rather, they have the “Wild Child” thing down pat except the uncertain newbie who threatens to be a shrinking violet at any moment. They go to a metal gig, apparently looking for pseudo-Satanic hi-jinxs, and meet three rough-and-ready guys and the night seems set. But there are black magic killings going on in the background, and… There’s fun to be had at some messing with gender expectations and some of the twist-and-turns of the plot: it’s generally entertaining overall with a cut-above average dialogue and smart in places, although my pal felt it wasn’t as clever as it thinks it is. Nevertheless, winningly continuing the moderately effective satire and greater gender awareness that I spotted in this FrightFest August Weekend selection.

Marc Meyers, USA, 2019

And then we have – animated short, ‘The Haunted Swordsman’ which had stunning puppet design and puppet-action. There’s a story about a samurai seeking a demon-killing weapon, but that’s secondary to the design and execution which is just deliciously hand-made stuff. No matter how dazzling CGI can be, it still doesn’t give the visceral delight of practical effects or something like this where you just know that every set and shot is the result of painstaking hours and work. By Kevin McTurk, whose CV is quite impressive. 

Kevin McTurk, USA, 2019

A Hulu Original by Blumhouse – it’s an episode of “Into the Dark” – ‘Uncanny Annie’ is your enjoyable if undemanding horror-‘Jumanji’ scenario (thinking of previous FrightFest screeners ‘Game of Death’ and ‘Beyond the Gates’). Uncanny Annie herself is one of those giggling horror girl spectres that never really does it for me, but the performances and dynamic of the group of young gameplayers that unleash Annie are a cut above. It’s a low budget affair and even though there is nothing original here, it never feels it’s coasting on pace or execution. There’s a decent poltergeist assault, for example. It's probably a more polished 'Goosebumps' episode, but that's okay. 

In the Q&A, director Paul Davis spoke of how its multiple Final Girls angle was initially just a ruse for auditions that took hold, and this gives proceedings a little more than usual colour. It also includes a memorable shot of a victim pinned to a door as a dark cloud manifests itself from behind that door.

Paul Davis, 2019

Carlo Mirabella-Davis’ ‘Swallow’ was the stand-out although this fell into the dark psychological drama category. The fact that it wasn’t outright horror was apparently complained about on Twitter which upset Paul McEvoy and sent him on an outburst that FrightFest was also about genre diversity. ‘Swallow’ features a remarkable performance from Hayley Bennet as Hunter – semi-pathetic and vulnerable but never grating – who is finding it a little hard to adjust to her role as a trophy wife. She’s married into money and soon finds she is expected to play a role rather than be an individual. She has her own unresolved issues too and soon all this repression manifests itself in the compulsion to eat odd objects like pin tacks. Engaging with repression, trauma, overcoming victimisation, pressures to conform, the oppression of women, odd compulsive behaviour, even if it wasn’t obvious horror it was certainly dealing with genre themes. Loaded with affecting content that gels in an exceptional kitchen confrontation, the script never quite oversteps into banal melodrama, keeping everything low key, credible, troubling and ultimately cathartic.

Carlo Mirabella-Davis’, 2019, USA-France

And also I was a little star-struck as Matt Johnson, Mr The The himself, was in the audience to watch ‘Swallow’ as the film used the always great ‘This is the Day’.

‘Trick’ starts vividly with a Halloween party massacre before leaping ahead a year for another and for a moment, it looks like it’s going to be a fast and furious and surprising play with slasher and cop drama tropes. “Trick” the slasher seems to be defying death to come back every year to kill. But then lots of stuff keeps happening and it’s quickly evident that this isn’t going to be half as clever as the opening promises, that the quick pace is just a way of piling stuff up without properly pausing to gather interest. It’s all a bit ‘Scream’ without any humour or satire, all a bit overly wrought but all the time losing engagement as we careen to an explanation that doesn’t really make sense. So braindead fun-for-some, then. But Tom Atkins manages to make an impression.

Patrick Lussier, 2019, USA

‘Scare Package’ similarly starts strong: a comedic horror anthology whose first couple of stories are funny and promise lots of laughs, however scruffy, at the genre’s expense. ‘Cold Open’ and ‘One Time in the Woods’ made me laugh a lot. Even the linking story set in a video store is amusing enough. But then, as it goes on, it gets less funny and poignant until a final story that drags on too long and devolves into back-patting cameos. With such a strong opening, it’s a bit of a gear change when things turn more straight for ‘Girls Night Out of the Body’, even though its more vibrant colour-scheme makes it stand out from the other segments; and this means the flow is a little interrupted by time we get to the unkillable killer of ‘The Night He Came Back Again! Part IV: The Final Kill’, even though it’s a decent enough gag. But that’s always going to happen with an anthology. Nevertheless, there’s the sense that it loses its promise along the way. But it’s loyalty to practical effects score major points.The multiple directors each tackle genre tropes making the meta-vibe quite fresh for such a compilation and even if the truly funny drops off early, there are enough self-referential gags to buoy it all up so even where is flounders, it keeps up the goodwill.

Mali Elfman, Courtney Andujar, Hilary Andujar, Anthony Cousins, Emily Hagins,

Aaron B Koontz, Chris McInroy, Noah Segan, Baron Vaughn, 2019, USA

So:

Best film: ‘Swallow’

Best death: setting fire to hair made flammable by a shell of previously-applied hair spray in ‘We Summon the Darkness’.

Most affecting moment: The kitchen confrontation in ‘Swallow’.

Best gag: Couple buying a house “So if we go the library, we won’t find any stories about this place, will we?” ‘Scare Package’.

Best gooey & gore gag: The talkative slime of a mid-transformation werewolf in ‘Scare Package’.

Best opening: ‘Trick’.

Nice to see: the dominance and wealth of practical effects

Best “wow” visual: puppets climbing a sheer-drop mountain side in ‘The Haunted Swordsman’.

Surprising highlight: Director Corn Hardy successfully carving a pumpkin in a minute; it then in the corner under the screen, burning away for the rest of the day/night.

Best poster: 'Scare Package'