FrightFest Halloween 2023

This year was the FrightFest Halloween selection that I enjoyed most since I have started going, admittedly only a few years ago. And if there was any theme, it was “Don’t Go In The Woods”. The imagery of threateningly dense trees was reccurring. ‘Lovely, Dark and Deep’, ‘Superposition’ and ‘Blue Light’ all had this, and it’s true I’m probably not interested in camping (I blame ‘Willow Creek’). Overhead shots of cars on roads through woodland was also frequent because everyone has a drone now. 

 

The Waterhouse

Writer and Director: Samuel Clemens.

With: Alan Calton, Michelangelo Fortuzzi,

Lara Lemon, Lily Catalifo.

UK 2023. 84 mins.

Three criminals hide out in a remote house, their frictions a little murky but not overly played. It’s crime-meets-the-supernatural time and as weird happenings and black-outs occur and seems to be bringing things to a head, three sexy sirens turn up.

The three thieves are less laddy and broad than you might expect, performed with some nuance, but the women are just sexy-bossy-seductive. So, you know, what is happening is not so hard to work out. Undoubtably reaching for enigmatic ambience, for which the single coastal location contributes much, and yet there’s an absence of tension and mystery. You know it’s a low budget film when the character spends long time starting the film searching the one location, trying to muster up tension. But there is some nice cinematography - you can’t really go wrong with the sea and the moon. And when it runs out of steam, it relies on it ‘Evil Dead’ drone shot (then I couldn’t decide if the final revelation came as a groan-inducing pun).  But it’s all a little pretty, a little garbled and ultimately underwhelming.

 

He Never Left

Director: James Morris.

With: Colin Cunningham, Jessica Staples, David McMahon, Sean Hunter, Mary Ellen Wolfe, Hailey Nebeker, Will McAllister, Jake Watters.

Writers: James Morris, Michael Ballif

USA 2023, 97 mins

Starts with an underwhelming first kill, but as soon as the car boot opens and Colin Cunningham pops out, the film compels with his performance and a laying on of other stories and angles running unseen but parallel. Cunningham excels as a fugitive trying to control his temper one minute and losing it the next, in a constant state of panic and guilt. 

 You might be forgiven for thinking that we're not in the slasher flick the poster promises, but it's that too - even if it does that diffusing technique of carrying the story right into the credits. There's a lot to superficially enjoy, but its underlying theme of broken people due to bad parenting and child abuse - and the fact that one of its endings has the agents in pursuit of the fugitive lamenting the legacy of serial killers but not quite catching on - has the film reaching for greater depth and leaving more than the usual residue by respecting trauma. In this way, it’s also interested a little in dissecting its own crime-meets-horror genre, having its cake and eating it.

 

Maria

Directors: Gabriel Grieco, Nicanor Loreti.

With: Dana Panchenko, Sofía Gala Castiglione, Malena Sánchez, Magui Bravi.

Argentina 2023. 70 mins.

Another proposed homage to 80s excess and ridiculousness that piles on absurdity and nastiness for Midnight Movie status. But a lot of its threads come to little or nothing and we're left celebrating eager killers because the victim is set-up as vile. The highlight is a discussion about the difference between 'Robocop' and 'The Terminator' as robots or enhanced humans. It seems a little 'A Serbian Film' at one point (or even ref. ‘Squid Game’ for masked vile and debauched 1%) and gleefully silly the next, righteously angry inbetween, but too tonally inconsistent for what seems to be a somewhat serious intent. Moreover, it’s this wish-fulfilment that sidelines Maria herself so she’s reduced to smirking approvingly while revenge is meted out. Not enough focus or fun and yes, those are ‘Metropolis’ namechecks.

Eldritch, USA

Directors: Ryan Smith, Tyler Foreman.

With: Graham Weldin, Andy Phinney, Cameron Perry, Aline O’Neill.

Writer: Ryan Smith

USA 2023. 99 mins.

Horror musicals, not quite my thing: though ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ is a favourite; didn’t care for ‘Anna and the Apocalypse’, although it’s very popular; but I thought ‘Stage Fright’ (2014) funny. My taste didn’t include the musical numbers here, or the kind of cheesy affectations that go with musicals, but the songs neither got in the way or really contributed to the humour (though the occasional amusing lyric). The highlight is the funny ritual set-piece as they missing the target when trying to bring back the dead. And then it goes HP Lovecraft… but there’s enough to make you laugh (even if the ‘Hellraiser’ gags, and the appearance of ‘TheTrolley Problem’ made me laugh in context) and charm. It’s a shoestring zombie-comedy-musical that will probably win you over with its good naturedness.

(The poster for FrightFest made me think this might be a Mike Mignolia inspired animated feature, which I got quite excited about, but it wasn’t and there are varying posters for this, which aren’t so misleading.)

 

Lovely Dark and Deep

Writer & Director: Teresa Sutherland.

With: Georgina Campbell, Nick Blood, Wai Ching Ho, Soren Hellerup.

USA 2023. 87 mins.

Leaning on the ambient horror aesthetic, Sutherland’s debut has a Lennon – an excellent Georgina Campbell – who gets her Park Ranger position where her motivation is to follow her obsession for the park’s missing persons, of which her sister is one when they were kids. Lots of torches gliding over trees in pitch darkness, creeping atmosphere amidst the bright stunning landscapes, disquieting soundscapes, then failing reality and such. Jonathan Deehan describes the narrative as “…the character’s journey often feels aimless, like a lost puppy stumbling through a Halloween maze of unconnected scare zones”, and that’s an apt outline. The enigma and abstractness is intriguing enough, and a lack of clarity does not necessarily sabotage the mood piece, but the motivation is a little hazy which rather lets down the whole excursion. We don’t get to know Lennon to any nuanced degree so it’s hard to be shaken or whatever come the ending. As consummate and achieved as the mood of trauma and unravelling reality is, there’s a sense that this isn’t as chilling as it should be.

 

Superpostion

Director: Karoline Lyngbye.

Writers: Karoline Lyngbye, Mikkel Bak Sørensen

With: Marie Bach Hansen, Mikkel Boe Følsgaard, Mihlo Olsen.

Denmark 2023, 105 mins.

More failing reality, one of my favourite horror fears. Like ‘Marriage Story’ meets ‘Coherence’, a couple decide to and leave society behind, taking their young son with them, so they can repair the fractures in their marriage. This is a couple fully self-aware of their narcissism and privilege in the modern world, and there’s irony in that they will be blogging about their off-the-grid experience. But alternative realities have other ideas, and they are forced to face their marriage problems by negotiating with themselves. As always with doppelgängers scenarios where the definitions and characters get a little blurred (sometimes deliberately (can you impersonate yourself?); keep track), there may be a little confusion here and there, but Lyngbye’s film never loses sight of that aforementioned privilege and narcissism and what that might mean should a person be faced with this during a mid-life crises. A true existential, character study chiller, coolly played and sure-handed.

Hood Witch

Director: Saïd Belktibia.

Writers: Saïd Belktibia, Louis Penicaut

With: Golshifteh Farahani, Denis Lavant, Mathieu Espagnet, Jérémy Ferrari.

Iran/France 2023. 91 mins.

From the crash-course in witch hunts and modern belief in witchcraft that opens, it is obvious that this is a film that’s fully awake and that there will be no slow burn here. Indeed, the whole opening with our protagonist going through customs with her son is a gripper, showing that we are in for serious business (although the issue of prison is sidestepped). Indeed, Golshifteh Farahani is nothing less than compelling and fiery as a woman exploiting people’s belief in witchcraft on her estate as she dips in an out of her ongoing feud with her estranged husband. It soon becomes apparent that her son is everything that’s at stake, physically, emotionally and spiritually as the story launches into the witch hunting and becomes a chase narrative. Running at a unshakable pace, there’s nothing supernatural here, just a kitchen sink thriller with streaks of commentary about the role of women, the consequences of charlatanism and the bloodthirstiness of faith, whether a witch-hunt or a self-flagellation.

 

The Last Video Store

Directors: Cody Kennedy, Tim Rutherford.

Writers: Joshua Roach, Tim Rutherford

With: Kevin Martin, Josh Lenner, Vanessa ‘Yaayaa’ Adams, Lelan Tilden.

Canada 2023. 90 mins.

I often come across comments where people say horror and comedy rarely works, but I can assume they aren’t paying much attention. At FrightFest, the horror comedy is a staple and ‘The Last Video Store’ is another good example. Kevin Matin owns The Lobby DVD Shop, a real VHS store still hanging on – here called Blaster Video – and that’s the setting for this showdown with a demonic VHS tape. He’s the lead too.

A self-aware, self-deprecating, joyful homage in its own way, armed with only a single beloved location, two vivid leads and a number of good genre gags. It may not be anything exceptional, but it is highly likeable, funny and infused with a melancholy that makes sense of its purple-and-neon hued nostalgia and claustrophobia.  

 

Blue Light

Director: Andy Fickman.

With: Bella DeLong, Amber Janea, Daryl Tofa, Ana Zambrana.

USA 2023.109 mins

With cast and characters set at a constant screech or scream, it’s a chore to sit through them being picked off seemingly by demonic pranksters playing with a harmoniser pedal.

 

Last Night in Soho

 Last Night in Soho

Director – Edgar Wright

Writers – Edgar Wright (story by) & Krysty Wilson-Cairns (screenplay by)

2021, UK

Stars – Thomasin McKenzie, Anya Taylor-Joy, Matt Smith

Starting in typical Wright music video style, ‘Last Night in Soho’ plunges headfirst into the Sixties vibe and never lets up. There will be a shedload of Swinging Sixties hits, with the obviousness and delights of The Searcher’s ‘Don’t Throw Your Love Away’ and Sandie Shaw’s ‘Puppet on a String’ (not even trying to be subtext) not the least; the film is giddy with them, and if you are suckered in immediately by the vertiginous melodramas of Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich’s eponymous track, or ‘Downtown’, then that’s sure to set the film’s place in your affections.  Indeed, it takes a moment to realise that this is set in the modern world because our protagonist Eloise (Thomasin McKenzie) is obsessed with the Swinging Sixties (it was the I don’t think Wimpy’s exist anymore line that clued me in). There’s even Rita Tushingham present and correct.

It’s a fine piece of entertainment due to style, even if I suspect its full-blown Sixties homage masks the fact that it’s longer than its horror content warrants. There’s lot of razzle-dazzle here, a lot of fun if you frequent London and find yourself trying to recognise side streets – but. 

From the start it’s an obvious confection, almost cartoonish in its broad strokes and veneer with giallo’s passing glance at realism. No matter how effectively Thomasin Mackenzie emotes for sympathy and Ana Taylor-Joy vamps, and Matt Smith delights with his groove onto the dancefloor, there’s no escaping the dents of bad writing. Don’t expect a realistic portrayal of fashion school life, or romance, for example. Wannabe love interest Michael Ajao’s John has no other character but to fawn after Eloise (Mackenzie), even when dangerous hysteria and assault enter the equation. Diana Rigg, in her final role, and Terence Stamp give poise and gravitas while the youngsters are giving all the flare.

It's proven divisive with audiences, leaving some giddy with joyous horror delights and others totally unimpressed, even hateful. I feel I want to abstain: while it was in full flow, I was curious and admittedly entertained, and surely seeing it on the big screen with a loaded amount of goodwill made all the difference, yet I never felt fully swallowed up. Almost… I find the crucial flaws in retrospective consideration undeniable, and shrugging ensues. Wright does a lot right – the mirror play; the soundtrack; the atmosphere – so there are a lot of surface pleasures. It’s joyful in the manner of musicals, which is emblematic of Eloise’s naïve worldview; but this may conflict with the viewer’s taste in horror, and the horror is standard (I did start to wonder how it earned its 18 rating), despite some nice enough twists (not that you wouldn’t anticipate… and rather there’s satisfaction in retroactively realising how the twists have been set up). 

So, if a joyful cartoon of a giallo horror is something to win you over, where illogic and dodgy dialogue abound; if you don’t mind the occasional plot hole (not convinced a fatal car accident on that side street; an unaddressed assault; John’s ever-dwindling character), then the style and homage might hit your buttons.

For Love's Sake

For  Love’s Sake:
The Legend of Love & Sincerity
Ai to makoto

Takashi Miike, Japan, (2012)

Takashi Miike is so prolific and diverse that’s it is almost a chore to keep up with him; he’s a master of genres and as punk as he is classical and consistently unpredicatable and surprising. Of late: “13 Assassins” and “Hari-Kari” one moment and “Yatterman” and then “For Love’s Sake” next. This also means that he shall often throw anything but the kitchen sink in if the material is a little, shall we say, silly and underwhelming. This is helpful when he is doing his Manga adaptations, because Manga is often quite bonkers and narratively wild and emotionally hyperbolic and ridiculous; or at least the bulk of Manga that gets adapted seems to be. “For Love’s Sake” is, for the most part, delirously silly and over-egged: it comes across like a parody not only of overwrought Japanese school dramas but also of Baz Luhrmann’s “Romeo + Juliet” and the teen romance genre as a whole. The performances of the musical numbers are, for the most part, very funny: the tracks are a mixture of Japanese ‘60s pop tracks and original songs with straight enough lyrics, but it is the characters lauching into musical numbers as if they believe they are in their own musical (which they are) when most characters around them aren’t quite so sure that makes it so all so amusing. Manga and Miike is often prone to changing mood and mashing up extreme and sentimental elements indiscriminately, and if the first half of “For Love’s Sake” feels like barmy parody, and is definitely funny, the second half is dragged down by that sentiment that asks us to take seriously the absurd and unhinged declarations of love by characters that feels very much like unhinged psychology.

No one in “For Love’s Sake” is in good mental health. We are expected to go along with a main macho character, Makoto (Satoshi Tsumabuki) who solves everything with violence and who is indeed so violent that he will happily take on entire gangs and come out on top. Oh, and who happily slaps women around. Then there is Ai (Emi Takei), a girl who is delusionally obsessed with Makoto and whose insane pursuit of him with declarations of anti-violence and love are so trite, they are hilarious and surely satirical of youthful romancing; all that being in love with the idea of being in love, etc. When he keeps telling her where to go, you agree with him. Then there is Hiroshi who is also obsessively in love with Ai with that nerdy tactic of hanging around her in the hope that one day she might fall in love with him: the gag becomes that he turns up everywhere after her, but make no mistake that he is a stalker. The school of delinquents adds to the bunch of Asian dramas that make it look as if Asian education is a hellhole (I am thinking of, oh, “Confessions”, “All About Lilu Chou-Chou”, “Whispering Corridors”, “Friend”, etc etc). That the gangs are mostly femal dominated is a nice mixing-up of typical classroom gangs and this leaves plenty of room for the gag that most of the main bad girls are in love with Makoto. Oh, and there is the seventeen year-old boy who has the body of a middle-aged man too (he has some kind of aging disease??). It all comes across as the fantasy of some dysfunctional lovesick teenager with a fevered pop-addled imagination.

My favourite moment of violence? An unbroken take where the camera stays over Makoto’s shoulder as he wipes out an entire gang stuffing full a hospital corridor. But there is also the opening fight during which Makoto sings throughout the punches and kicking. All the dance numbers in the first half have their moments, though.

It’s overlong by at half hour and at least two songs and the earnestness drags as much as the emotional outpourings, although even the later passages are alleviated by sudden bursts of inventiveness: a bad girl’s flashback to her childhood trauma is brilliantly rendered as animation, for example. Even the closing Anime flashback feels like it might possess genuine emotional effect if we were not being asked to associate it with such ridiculous and two-dimensional characters. This, however, is typical of Manga and Anime where we are often to take at face value that people are in love, despite the lack of convincing romantic detail. Characters generally just end up shouting one another's names in various states of hysterics. Miike is also not always one to turn to for emotional engagement: there is often the sense that his films are experiments in free-form cinematic tricks and tropes rather than speaking deeply to the audience, but this depends upon the particular project (films such as "Rainy Dog", "Hari-Kari" and "Big Bang Love: Juvenile A" are different stories altogether).

“For Love’s Sake” is gorgeous to look at, funny and violent for the most part, then undone by the typical Manga sentimentality. If you are looking for the real deal about growing up with neglect and violence, look to Miike’s two “Young Thug” films for revelations, scathing insight and some genuine emotional engagement. “For Love’s Sake” shall not win many new Miike fans, but even at his most conventional, he often seems to be making all the films all at once and no one quite does it like him. There is no doubt that it is at least unforgettable, because Miike's work always leaves some kind of aftertaste, even if this example is candyfloss with punches and pretences of substance.

P.S.: The British Film Institute puff piece for "For Love's Sake" by Tony Raynes says, "This is the kind of movie that hits you, and it feels like a kiss." This indeed is indicative of the problematic nature of deciding what one is meant to take from the film if looking for any depth. It is also one of those faux-poetical nonsense summaries that seems to think equating hitting with kissing is something lyrical.