Category Archives: Film Review

Review: The Losers (dir. by Sylvain White)

Posted on by Arleigh

There’s something to be said about DC’s attempt to try and take some of the thunder away from Marvel as the two battle it out over the hearts and wallets of the film-going public. With the exception of Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins and The Dark Knight DC’s properties has lagged behind that of Marvel when it comes to being adapted to the big-screen. Some would say that this is a good thing in that DC hasn’t flooded the market with too many comic book titles adapted to film. Marvel’s track record has been very good but they’ve also had some very awful comic book-to-film titles which at times almost derails this Golden Age of comic book films. But even with the misses Marvel has released they’ve done a good job of keeping their name brand in the film public’s eye.  DC hasn’t been very good at this but this may be changing soon.

While not part of the DC Universe proper the Vertigo line of titles do belong under the DC umbrella. Vertigo has always been the more mature-oriented publishing arm of DC with well-known and critically-acclaimed writers such as Grant Morrison, Garth Ennis, Warren Ellis and Alan Moore being the top names releasing titles under that aegis. There’s already been several films based-off of the Vertigo line with Constantine and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen being two. Two examples which haven’t gone over well with comic book fans and film-goers. We now have another title from DC/Vertigo which hopes to break that cycle of mediocrity. The Losers (written by Andy Diggle) as directed by Sylvain White (Stomp the Yard) is a funny and exciting action-comedy which definitely had a chance to be one of the great comic book films if it actually had a coherent storyline.

The Losers is pretty much the name of the special-ops covert team the audience gets to know from start to finish. The basic premise to this film is actually straight out of late 80’s and early 90’s action films. A team of badass operatives gets betrayed during a covert mission by unknown parties who may or may not be working for the very organization the team has worked loyally for. For this particular reiteration of that action flick staple the team literally calls themselves the Losers and their betrayal occurs while in a secret mission inside Bolivia to take out a narco-terrorist. While their mission to take out this bad man does happen it does so with some new wrinkles such as first saving 25 innocent Bolivian children before the airstrike called in by them happens within 8 minutes. This eventual betrayal now forces the Losers’ commander, a military colonel called Clay (played by Jeffrey Dean Morgan), to take his 5-man team deep under while convincing their CIA masters that they died during the operation.

The rest of the film revolves around the Losers being discovered by a third-party as still being alive and given a choice. The choice being to remain under the Agency’s radar, stay dead and in Bolivia or take on this third-party’s mission to take out the very man who betrayed them, get back their good name and return to their families or, for some, their old lives. Heading up this mysterious benefactor is the one and lovely Zoe Saldana (fresh-off a little flick called Avatar). She’s pretty much the only female of note in the whole film. One would think she’s the token female, but she’s more than capable of holding her own in a testosterone-fueled action-comedy.

What would an action-comedy about betrayed badass special-ops guys (and gal) without a bad guy to match. In The Losers we get the betrayer of the team in Max (played with an almost James Bond villainish flair by Jason Patric). He’s the one who gave them the team their last official mission in Bolivia and the same one to frame them for the a heinous crime they didn’t commit. To say that Max is over-the-top in terms of on-screen villainy would be an understatement. While the character doesn’t prance or growls his way through the film he does have a certain je ne sais quois about him that doesn’t pigeonhole him as your typical uber-bad guy.

One would think that with such a simple enough revenge and wronged team-on-a-mission set-up it would be quite an easy story to create and film around. I would have to say that the screenplay adapting the first two volumes of the original source material had left much to be desired. While it wasn’t a total waste there wasn’t enough of a story beyond creating set-pieces for the characters to either shoot at and blow stuff and people up, Max to show the audience how evil he really is, or show Saldana’s and Morgan’s character together either fighting or getting it on. The whole script used almost seemed like it was culled from a much bigger one.

What we do see on the screen was exciting and funny enough that it helps cover up enough of that major flaw of a non-existent story. In fact, I would say that the film behaved almost like an extended, well-shot and well-casted pilot for a new tv action series. It’s almost what I would expect USA Network’s excellent spy-comedy Burn Notice to look like if shot on 35mm, given a multi-million dollar budget and shot on exotic locations. The film definitely would’ve benefited from an additional 20-30 more minutes to help add muscle to the story. The fact of the matter is that the story actually was able to flesh out the main characters enough that they were all quite distinct in personalities without ever becoming cardboard copy caricatures.

It’s the chemistry between the ensemble cast which shines in The Losers. While Jeffrey Dean Morgan (Watchmen), Zoe Saldana and Jason Patric were the three main leads (with each of them pushing their own agenda over the other two) the rest of the players were very good in their roles. Idris Elba (The Wire) as Clay’s second-in-command Roque does a very good job of balancing out the cool-headed team leader. his name may not be spelled like it but he definitely was the rogue factor in the whole film. While the team itself wasn’t an amoral team of killers and expert covert ops operators it was the character Roque who came closest and Elba played him with enough menace that one might’ve wondered why he was actually still with the team instead of going off on his own. Columbus Short as driver extraordinaire and Óscar Jaenada as Cougar (got a hilarious reaction from Saldana’s character upon hearing of the name) the expert marksman who never seems to miss are good in their roles as well, but the one who stole every scene he was in was Chris Evans as Jensen who filled the role of team tech and communications expert.

Chris Evans is definitely not a novice when it comes to being part of a comic book film. He’s already done two portraying the wise-ass brother in the Fantastic Four franchise and already tapped to play one of Marvel Comics’ most iconic characters in Captain America. His character portrayal of the Losers’ Jensen is more akin to his work as Johnny Storm in the FF franchise. He was the funniest thing and most lively character in The Losers. He pretty much got the best dialogue and his comedic timing was on point. He definitely kept the film from leaning towards the too-serious side of the equation. His singing of Journey’s classic motivational song, “Don’t Stop Believing”, was one of the funniest moments in the film and the song itself ended up being the closing credits musical choices which I thought was quite appropriate.

Sylvain White’s work in this film I would say would constitute as being good and, at times, bordering on being very good. There were a few stylistic choices by White which elevated the action sequences into comic book territory such as sudden pauses in the action to capture a good kill or scene like one would see in a panel of a comic book page. Even some of the camera angles mimicked those angles used by comic book artists to create a more dynamic and stylized point of view of the scene. I thought his use of the slo-mo shots of the team walking towards the screen was done overmuch. It was good to show the team together for the first time with something exploding in the background, but just once would’ve been enough. His background as a music video director showed too much in The Losers that at times it became too distracting. Fortunately, it didn’t detract from the fun everyone seemed to be having on-screen. There’s talent in White as a filmmaker if he would just trust in his growing sense as a feature filmmaker and not fall back on his music video directing days. I did like the choice of using the original comic book art to highlight the starting and ending credits of the film. Artist Jock’s artwork was great to see on the screen.

Overall, I enjoyed my time with The Losers. I enjoyed the film despite a glaring flaw in the story (which was really nowhere to be seen). The film took the comic book film staple of “origin story” a bit too far and made the whole production look like a glorified and high-budgeted tv pilot for an action series. In fact, if DC and Warner Brothers wanted to make a series out of The Losers they already have said pilot in the can and just continue things from there. What really saves this film from becoming a huge disappointment was the cast and how much fun they had on-screen. The action scenes were not great but they had life in them and when propped up by some of the comedic stylings of one Chris Evans made the sequences enjoyable. While The Losers will not be anything to scare Marvel Studio into cranking out something similar it does help bring attention to some of the more non-superhero properties DC has in its Vertigo line. The film definitely has more excitement in it despite its major flaw than either Constantine and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I do hope it does well enough that a sequel gets greenlit and helps build more of a story in the follow-up now that introducing the characters and the world are now out of the way.

10 Reasons Why I Hated Avatar

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

(The opinions in this review are mine and mine alone.  They reflect the feelings of Lisa Marie Bowman and not the feelings of any other editor on this site.  To prove that the opinions below are solely mine, check out this very positive review of Avatar that was posted on this very site last December.)

In case you didn’t already know this from my previous reviews, I’m going to confess something here.  I hated Avatar.  It was probably my least favorite film of 2009.  How much did I hate Avatar?  Well, I didn’t care much for The Hurt Locker either but I still cheered when it won best picture because it meant that Avatar didn’t. 

Most of my friends and family loved Avatar and, I’m proud to say, that none of them have allowed our difference of opinion to effect our relationship.  Indeed, most Avatar fans have been very tolerant of my dissenting views.  However, there’s always an exception.  From the 1st time I ever openly admitted to disliking Avatar, I have had to deal with a small but vocal group of people who not only disagree but apparently feel that I’ve committed a crime against humanity.  So, why bring it up now?  Because on Thursday, Avatar is going to be released on DVD and Blu-ray.  In honor of that event, here are 10 reason why I personally hated Avatar. 

1) Ironically enough, most people who love Avatar will probably agree with the majority of my criticisms.  They’ll argue that yes, the story is predictable and yes, James Cameron is heavy-handed as both a writer and a director but none of that matters because of all the brilliant visual effects.  They’ll argue that Cameron made a whole different world, Pandora, come to life.  To a certain extent, they’re right.  Cameron does manage to make Pandora believable and wow, Pandora certainly turns out to be a boring planet.  Seriously, does that jungle cover the entire freaking planet?  However, regardless of my personal feelings about Pandora, James Cameron is hardly the 1st director to make an alien world believable.  Peter Jackson did it with his Lord of the Rings trilogy and the same can, arguably, be said of the Narnia films.  Even earlier, Mario Bava did it with Planet of the Vampires and he did it with a lot less money.  Of course, none of these films were in 3-D but so what?  Just because the mundane appears to be inches in front of your nose doesn’t make it any less mundane.

2) Speaking of mundane, wouldn’t you be let down if, when you first met the members of a totally alien race, they all turned out to be a bunch of movie stereotypes?  The Na’vi appear to have developed their entire culture as the result of a steady diet of Hollywood westerns, New Age self-help books, and some 16 year-old’s half-assed understanding of what it means to be a Pagan.  I remember when I first saw Avatar, it was impossible for me not to compare it unfavorably with District 9, a film that addressed many of the same themes and issues as Avatar but did it with a much lower budget and a much more intelligent script.  This was especially evident when one compares Avatar’s Na’vi with District 9’s prawns.  While the prawns were believable as both individual characters and as representatives of a totally alien race, the Na’vi are essentially the reflections of James Cameron’s sophomoric noble savage fantasies.

3) District 9 wasn’t the only great science fiction film to come out in 2009.  There was also Moon, which featured a great performance by Sam Rockwell and excellent direction from Duncan Jones.  When /Film asked Jones for his opinion of Avatar, Jones replied, “…at which point in the film did you have any doubt what was going to happen next?”  It’s a good question. 

In all honesty, I’m a horror girl.  I haven’t seen much science fiction and therefore, I’m not as well acquainted with the genre’s clichés as I am with horror.  However, I can still say that, at no point, did anything that happened in Avatar take me by surprise.

Of course, some of my favorite movies were (and are) very predictable.  Georges Polti argued that there were really only 36 basic plots available to use in fiction so its understandable that you’re going to come across the same one used several times.  However, a predictable plot can be forgiven if maybe that plot features at least a few interesting characters or maybe an occasional unexpected line of dialogue.  Avatar, however, can’t even manage this.  Our hero is an impulsive man of action.  The villains are all evil because … well, they just are.  In the manner of most oppressed races in American film, the Na’vi are noble savages who require a white guy to come save them.  The only lines of dialogue that I remember are the ones that made me roll my eyes.  I’m talking about stuff like a bunch of 22nd century marines being greeted with “You’re not in Kansas anymore.”  Well, that and “I see you,” which was apparently included in the script so that it could serve as the title of a syrupy theme song.

4) Strangely enough, even though the movie took absolutely no narrative risks, it was still full of plot holes and things that just didn’t make much sense. 

For instance, why does Quaritich promise to give Jake back his legs (“your real ones”)?  I mean, does Quaritich have them sitting in a freezer somewhere? 

As part of his deal with Quaritich, Jake agrees to make videos about the Na’vi.  Oddly enough, it appears that he’s still making the videos even after he turns against Quaritich and you have to wonder exactly why.  Also, Jake records many of these videos in an isolated, apparently one-room outpost occupied by him and two other scientists yet the scientists are later shocked and outraged when told that Jake was making the videos.  Okay, what did they think he was doing all that time?  Were they just not listening to what he was saying? 

What exactly was the backstory of Sigourney Weaver’s character and when exactly did she join Sully in the Na’vi camp?   And why were the Na’vi willing to let her into their tribe when they would only grudgingly accepted Sully even after the Goddess selected him?  I mean, if Weaver already had such a great relationship with the Na’vi, it seems like she could have saved a lot of time by just taking Sully straight to them.  (Editor’s Note: According to the comments below, this issue actually was addressed in the film. — LMB)

Sully, after the final battle, decides to stay on Pandora and he might as well since the Tree of Souls (good God!) transferred his soul into his Na’vi body.  But what’s in it for Max and Norm?  We seem them at the end (though really, Norm should be dead) standing there pointing guns at all the humans that are leaving.  Norm, at least, could still probably hang out in his avatar but what about Max?  Why is Max, who has had nothing to do with Na’vi, so quick to join the revolution?

I’m sure a lot of this is because scenes were edited out and I know that Cameron has a reputation for reinserting those scenes once his movies come out on DVD and blu-ray.  Well, more power to him.

5) The film suffers from a really bad case of the white man’s burden disease.  This is another one of those films where a caucasian character befriends an oppressed minority and, with remarkably little dissent, manages to appoint himself as the leader of that minority.  It’s a fantasy, one in which members of the bourgeoisie (like James Cameron) can live out their childhood fantasies of being outlaws without having to worry about  (unlike actual “outlaws,”) being punished for taking their stand.

Once again, it’s hard not to compare Avatar with District 9.  Both of them feature lead characters who are transformed into aliens.  The difference is that, with the exception of one brief scene, Jake Sully accomplishes the transformation rather easily and quickly becomes the best Na’vi there is while in District 9, poor Sharlto Copley is terrified by the process and, even though it does lead to him understanding the prawns (and ironically, learning how to show a little humanity), the movie never pretends that Copley isn’t losing his own individuality in the process of transforming.

6) The lead character is named Jake Sully.  Did James Cameron get frustrated and just use a Random Generic Movie Hero Name Generator to come up with that?  I wonder if Nick Sully was Cameron’s 2nd choice.  It’s not that there’s anything wrong with either name.  It’s just that it feels so generic.  Of course, the leader character is going to be named Jake and, of course, he’s not going to be an intellectual and, of course, Sigourney Weaver’s going to spend the whole movie making sarcastic comments about how stupid he is.  Speaking of which…

7) Sigourney plays Dr. Grace Augustine.  Her character and her performance are typical of a rather annoying Hollywood tradition, that of portraying any “strong” female as a total and complete bitch.  If you want the audience to know they’re supposed to take a woman seriously, have that woman spend the entire movie pissed off about something, as if the only way a woman can be strong is by sacrificing anything that might make her unique.  Now, there’s a lot I could say about why, from a cultural perspective, American movies often seem to be so conflicted about how to portray any woman who is neither an Eve nor a Lillith.  But in the case of Avatar, its hard not to feel that it comes down to screenwriter Cameron’s inability to make any of his characters interesting unless something nearby is exploding.

8 ) And while we’re on the subject of misunderstood women…okay, let’s say you discover a planet and this planet is a lush, beautiful paradise.  Why the Hell would you then call it Pandora?  Yes, I understand that newly discovered planets are usually named after mythological figures.  But there’s still usually some sort of vague logic behind the names.  For instance, Mars was named after the God of War because of its red hue.  Venus was often considered to be the most beautiful star in the sky.  Mercury has the fastest orbit.  Jupiter’s the biggest planet.  Pluto (before it got downgraded) was considered the darkest and coldest of the planets.  Pandora, however, was the woman who opened up the jar that released everything terrible, evil, and destructive into the world.  Why would anyone name a planet after her?  It’s possible, of course, that all the good names were taken.  Of course, it’s also possible that this is just another example of how thuddingly obvious Avatar is in its symbolism and subtext.

9) Speaking of obvious, what about the villain played by Stephen Lang?  More specifically, what about that accent?  It’s true that Cameron doesn’t exactly encourage his villains to be subtle.  Just check out Billy Zane in Titanic.  Zane, however, at least appeared to be having a little fun at his director’s expense.  He, alone among the cast, seemed to realize that Titanic was a silly melodrama and so he gave something of a silly performance.  It’s no great secret that it’s often more important to have a good villain than to have a good hero.  A good villain usually has some sort of motivation beyond just being the villain.  This is something that Cameron has never seemed to be able to grasp.  Whenever I see a military figure show up in a James Cameron movie, I get the same feeling that I get whenever a preacher shows up in a Stephen King novel.  Automatically I know that they’re going to turn out to be evil and I find myself dreading having to even waste the time with the “shocking” discovery of that evil. 

10) Perhaps most importantly, this is a movie that wants to preach peace but celebrate war.  Avatar contains all the trendy environmental messages that you’d expect from a Hollywood film but — even though director Cameron seems to be in a state of denial about it — the film’s heart is with its villanous soldiers.  Much as how Titanic, for all the rhetoric about the passengers in third class, was really only interested in portraying the lives (and deaths) of those in first class, Avatar spends a lot of time talking about trees but is much more interested in blowing them up with the destruction of the Home Tree serving as the money shot.

To be honest, I don’t mind a little hypocrisy when it comes to movies.  Most exploitation films celebrate hypocrisy.  The filmmakers knew it and, for the most part, the audiences knew it.  The fact that a movie like Child Bride could be advertised as “an important movie every parent must see!” became something of a shared joke between the filmmaker and his audience.  Rather than being hypocritical, the exploitation filmmaker is simply inviting his audience to join in a conspiracy against the forces of dullness.

Unfortunately, Avatar is not an exploitation film.  If Avatar was simply a B-movie, none of the my previous complaints would matter.  They would add to the film’s rogue charm.  Avatar, however, is too expensive to be considered an exploitation film.  And James Cameron, as he proved when he went ballistic over Kenneth Turan’s negative review of Titanic and as he has continued to prove with his recent comments regarding global warming, does not have the sensibility of a B-movie maker.  Arguably, he once did.  This is a man who, after all, did the special effects for Galaxy of Terror and made his directorial debut with Piranha II.  The Terminator was a great B-movie, right down to the accusations of plagiarism from Harlan Ellison.  However, as he’s become the most financially succesful director in history, Cameron has lost that B-movie sensibility. 

In other words, James Cameron takes himself seriously now and that, ultimately, is the main reason I hated Avatar.  It just takes itself too damn seriously.

Yes, I’ve read quite a few favorable reviews that have argued that Avatar‘s sole purpose is to entertain and that people like me who occasionally expect unique characters and an interesting story should just lie back and enjoy it.  I’ve seen the term “popcorn epic” used in quite a few reviews. 

I’m sorry but I’m not buying it.  If Avatar was truly setting out to be a “popcorn epic,” than I’d be a lot more willing to cut it some slack.  However, when the script contains lines about how on Earth, humans have “destroyed all the green,” and when the villains are accused of launching a “shock and awe” campaign, it’s ludicrous to then argue that Avatar isn’t setting itself up to be judged by a higher standard. 

It becomes hard to escape the fact that Cameron, regardless of how well he handles the special effects, has essentially made a stupid movie about deep issues.

As I said before, the majority of the people I know love Avatar.  I don’t hold it against them or think any less of them because, ultimately, movies are a subjective experience.  Whether or not a movie is good has less to do with the actual movie and more to do with the person watching it.

It would be nice to have the same courtesy extended to me .  Since I first revealed my opinion of Avatar on a non-Avatar related message board, I have found myself frequently attacked by little fanboys who apparently cannot handle the fact that one human being didn’t enjoy Avatar.  I’ve been told that, as a female, I can’t be expected to understand Avatar.  I’ve been accused of being “unimaginative,” “a snob,” “a bitch,” and my personal favorite “the type of cunt who cried at the end of the Blind Side.” 

I realize the risk I’m taking by openly admitting my dislike of Avatar but then again, movies are supposed to inspire conversation and not just pavlovian agreement.  So, in conclusion, I’ll just admit that yes, I am female and yes, I did cry at the end of The Blind Side, and yes, I hated Avatar.

Review: Kick-Ass (dir. by Matthew Vaughn)

Posted on by Arleigh

Comic books which have been adapted for the big-screen have had an uneven track record. For every excellent film-incarnations like Spider-Man 2, X-Men 2, The Dark Knight and Iron-Man we get dregs like Elektra, Ghost Rider and Daredevil. The last couple years filmmakers have gravitated towards the deconstruction side of comic book superheroes. Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight was as much an action-thriller as it was a meditation on the superhero psyche and mythmaking. Then there was 2009’s Watchmen which tried admirably (though failed in the end) to adapt Alan Moore’s epic deconstruction of the superhero archetypes.

It’s now 2010 and we get the first comic book film of the year. The film is an adaptation of Mark Millar (writer) and John Romita, Jr.’s (artist) ultraviolent comic book title from Marvel’s Icon Comics (their creator-owned publishing line). Kick-Ass was optioned and adapted by British-director Matthew Vaughn and screenwriter Jane Goldman. Unlike most comic book films of the past decade, Vaughn’s Kick-Ass was independently-financed (with help from Brad Pitt and his Plan B Studio) and made which was the best thing that could’ve happened to this project. With a free rein to make the film he wanted without corporate studio meddling, Matthew Vaughn was able to craft a fun and violent romp of a film mashup that collides superhero archetypes and conventions with “real world” grounding.

The story and premise for Kick-Ass is actually quite simple enough to follow. We have high-schooler and avid comic book fan Dave Lizewski asking his best friends and fellow comic book fans why no one has actually tried to be a superhero. The answer he gets from his like-minded friends doesn’t instill hope in his dream. While they are huge fans of superheroes and comic books they stop at actually trying to be one in real-life. Dave, on the other hand, knows that it’s possible for one to try and be a superhero even without powers. He believes that determination, conviction and the need to help those in need would be all that someone requires to become a superhero. With these criteria in mind he sets off to do the very thing he had asked his friends about. He accomplishes this by ordering (for the amount of $99.99) a green and yellow wet-suit and head cover plus a pair of batons and a taser gun. His first attempt at superherodom fails spectacularly as he’s stabbed and violently run over in the street. This near-fatal introduction to the world of superheroes doesn’t deter Dave when deep down even he knows that he’ll get killed if he continues on his quest to become the next Spider-Man.

The story moves on to Dave finally getting his superhero fame by stopping a beatdown of a stranger and having this event caught on a bystander’s camera phone and uploaded said video on Youtube. With this amateur video on Youtube getting millions of hits and views, plus Dave’s own creation of a MySpace page for his alter-ego the world finally gets it’s real-life superhero in the form of Kick-Ass. A name that spurs not just tens of thousands of fans on Kick-Ass’ MySpace page but also a boom in sudden Kick-Ass merchandise in Dave’s local comic book shop. Through it all Dave revels in the attention his alter-ego has been getting even the unexpected attention of the girl of his dreams, Katie Deauxma (played by the lovely Lyndsy Fonseca). An attention born out of a misunderstanding where Katie believes Dave to be gay because of circumstances revolving around his near-death experience of his very first attempt at crimefighting.

On the sidelines of all this we get introduced to the film’s real “superheroes” in the form of Big Daddy (played by Nicolas Cage) and his sidekick and 11-year old daughter, Hit-Girl (Chloe Moretz). We see early on that both Big Daddy and Hit-Girl are the real thing though calling them superheroes would be a stretch since they seem to be more vigilantes who happen to wear costumes and with no compunction at all about killing the criminals. These two are definitely not Batman and Robin (one of many easter egg-like references to comic book characters and storylines). Their story parallels that of Kick-Ass’ but where Dave seems to enjoy just playing at being a superhero and the adoration such role-playing gives him both Big Daddy and Hit-Girl actually have a focus and mission in their own attempts. These are two individuals who believe in the superhero roles they’ve taken on themselves and have prepared and trained themselves well for the violent consequences and ramifications of their mission.

The rest of the film takes the audience on a peculiar coming-of-age journey for one Kick-Ass. As stated earlier he’s pretty much all talk with a rose-tinted view of a superhero’s life. What he has read in his comic books doesn’t prepare him for the reality of actually trying to act and become a true superhero. While writer Mark Millar takes a dim and cynical view of what Kick-Ass is trying to figure out and accomplish (most of the comic’s morality ends up being that bad things happen to good people with the best of intentions), director Matthew Vaughn and screenwriter Jane Goldman take a more hero’s journey approach (sprinkled liberally with foul language and bloody violence). While Dave Lizewski’s attempts to live up to his hero persona of Kick-Ass range from succeeding through luck to failing miserably and at times fatally, by the end of the film circumstances (which have spiralled out of his own control) forces him to finally face up to the fact that if he really wanted to be a superhero he needed to finally do more than just talk and pretend to be one and actually act and perform like one.

This is in contrast to Hit-Girl’s own journey which doesn’t start her off as clumsy and unsure of herself. Instead we see in Hit-Girl the type of individual Kick-Ass wants to be but is unable to through most of the film. Where Kick-Ass suddenly realizes that he’s way over his head once the bodies start dropping in bloody ways, Hit-Girl doesn’t lack in confidence but is in control of every situation she’s confronted with. Whether it’s rescuing Kick-Ass from death (more than once) or finally launching the climactic assault on her and Big Daddy’s focus and reason for being. Hit-Girl is the true superhero with Big Daddy really her sidekick. Everyone else, from Kick-Ass to Red Mist (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), just pretend and play at being costumed superheroes. Hit-Girl is the personification of the female antihero of the recent comics, but unlike most female characters in comic books she’s not the fringe character or the one in need to help. She’s the one who rescues everyone and willing to sacrifice her very life to live up to the ideals (however twisted they may be to the audience) she has set for herself.

Kick-Ass may have been an post-modern exercise in trying to deconstruct and then acknowledge the superhero archetype and themes, but first and foremost it is a very fun and exhilarating rollercoaster ride of an action film. Vaughn and Goldman were able to capture the exciting and fun side of the original comic despite leaving behind some of the meanspiritedness of Millar’s writing. Goldman definitely has an ear for inserting comedy beats into the film to keep the story from becoming too serious and thus slowing down the film. In fact, I would say that Kick-Ass was a very fast-paced two-hour film that would alternate between comedy and action with a tender moment spliced in at the last third of the film. Much of the comedy in Kick-Ass come at the expense of Kick-Ass himself as he stumbles his way through most of the film either out of his league or just pantshitting scared of what he’s gotten himself into. Nicolas Cage’s characterization of Big Daddy also drew some major laughs as he alternated from a twisted version of Mr. Rogers as Damon MacReady to channeling Adam West’s “Batman” when dressed up as Big Daddy.

One thing which Matthew Vaughn has shown with is third feature-length film was the ability to create and shoot some very good action sequences. He even made an interesting stylistic choice to film his action sequences differently depending on whether it was Kick-Ass who was the focal point in the fight or whether it was Hit-Girl or Big Daddy doing the mayhem. Vaughn chose to shoot Kick-Ass’ fight sequences with comedy in mind as the character clumsily fought his way through his opponents. Even when he finally finds his inner superhero in the final fight with his newly discovered nemesis Kick-Ass still fought more on instinct and blindly swinging away instead of actually fighting like an expert. The same couldn’t be said about when Hit-Girl or Big Daddy were the main focus in the action scenes. These two characters were trained killers pure and simple. Their fight choreography was the exact opposite of Kick-Ass’. Hit-Girl’s was especially well-choreographed to show just how honed a fighter and killer Big Daddy’s 11-year old daughter really was even when confronted by over a dozen heavily-armed gangsters and drug dealers. It’s the Hit-Girl action scenes which drew the biggest positive reactions from the audience and rightfully so. Chloe Moretz truly sold the idea of an 11-year old costumed vigilante killer and the film was better for it.

Chloe Moretz star-making performance brings us to the overall performances of the film’s cast. While pretty much everyone who sees this film will agree that Chloe Moretz as Hit-Girl pretty much steals every scene she’s in Aaron Johnson as Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass also does a very good job in his performance. He anchors the film as the everyman, or everyboy for this film, the audience will gravitate towards. He’s believable as the stumbling and naive teen whose dream of becoming a superhero turns his life upside-down and rightside-up. We can sympathize with his teen need to be accepted and, ultimately, find his identity. It just happens that he find it in the midst of playing at being his dream girl’s fake gay BFF and then as the superhero he finally became in the end. Nicolas Cage, Clark Duke and Lyndsy Fonseca were good at their “sidekick” roles. On the other side of the superhero spectrum we have Mark Strong as mob boss Frank Dimico doing a wonderful job. Christopher Mintz-Plasse as Chris Dimico/Red mist makes for a great counterpoint and mirror to Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass. But where Dave finally learns to be a hero and take the role seriously, Mintz-Plasse’s Chris never learns the true meaning of what a hero is and just continues to be the wannabe that Dave started off as but finally shed in the end.

Kick-Ass does a better job at deconstructing the superhero world of comic books than Zack Snyder’s Watchmen of 2009. While the comic book version of Kick-Ass will never be in the same league and level as Alan Moore’s Watchmen the film version flip-flop and shows that sometime the simpler story makes for a better film. Vaughn and Goldman did a great job in adapting the darker and more nihilistic writing of Millar. But while changes were made to allow the story to be more accesible to the general public, the film still manages to keep the spirit of the original source material intact but minus the cuckolding the story’s intrepid hero gets hit with twice to end the story.

Even with the controversy over the Hit-Girl character and of Chloe Moretz protrayal of this blood-soaked and foul-mouthed killer it shouldn’t diminish the fact that Kick-Ass set out to be both thought-provoking, fun and entertaining and succeeds in accomplishing all three. While the film has flaws they’re not so glaring or even distracting that they take away from one’s enjoyment of the film. Even for an “origins” tale Kick-Ass manages to escape being too overly reliant on dialogue to explain everything that’s going on to the audience. The fact that a sequel was already being talked about even before the film’s release shows confidence in both Millar and Vaughn that there’s further adventures and stories to show and tell about Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl. I, for one, will be there to see what they will be up to next.

Review: Rats: Night of Terror (dir. by Bruno Mattei)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

Can one scene make an otherwise thoroughly useless movie worth seeing?

That’s the question that I’m pondering right now as I attempt to write this review of 1984‘s Rats: Night of Terror.

Rats: Night of Terror opens in the 23rd century.  As the result of a nuclear war, Earth has been transformed into a barbaric wasteland.  While the majority of humankind has retreated underground, small bands of scavengers occasionally get dressed up like a New Order tribute band before coming to the surface and driving around on their motorcycles. The movie follows one group of survivors as they scavenge for food, come across a deserted ghost town, and eventually end up getting attacked by hundreds of rats.

For the most part, that’s the movie.  None of the characters are all that memorable and the so-called rats appear to be bored.  For the most part, the film wouldn’t even be worth reviewing except for the Scene.  After 90 minutes of languid mayhem, Rats: Night of Terror comes up with one scene that manages to be odd, brilliant, and numbingly stupid all at the same time.  The Scene simply has to be seen to be believed.

Director Bruno Mattei often said that Rats: Night of Terror was his personal favorite out of the countless number of exploitation films that he directed.  While it’s generally agreed that Mattei was responsible for making some of the worst films in history, I’ve always had a sneaky admiration for him.  It’s hard not to love someone who defies the odds while pursuing his dream.  Mattei’s dream was to make movies and he never let a thing like budget or talent to stand in his way.  While Mattei is best known for taking over the direction of Zombi 3 after Lucio Fulci walked off the set, he was a prolific director who dabbled in every genre.  Rats: Night of Terror is his contribution to the post-apocalyptic genre.

For a brief period in the 1980s, Italian exploitation filmmakers moved away from cannibals, gialli, and zombies and instead concentrated on making movies about post-apocalyptic bikers.  For the most part, I’ve never been a huge fan of these Italian versions of The Road.  There’s an overwhelming blandness to them.  If the underlying goal of Italian exploitation cinema was to make movies that could pass for American studio productions, then the postapocalyptic genre is the closest the Italians came to accomplishing that goal.  As opposed to the zombie films or the gialli, the only thing that was obviously Italian about the majority of these films was George Eastman.

Rats: Night of Terror, strangely enough, does not feature George Eastman.  What it does feature is a lot of gerbils.  We’re continually told, throughout the movie, that these gerbils are actually rats but no, they’re gerbils and they’re pretty obviously not only gerbils but cute gerbils too!

 I’m sure I’m not the only person out there who has a strong phobia of rats.  I can still remember when I was 12 years old and visiting my grandad’s farm in Arkansas.  I was exploring an old barn with my older sister, Erin.  The barn, which already smelled like death, was also full of hay and, within a few minutes of stepping inside, I stared to have trouble breathing.  I stepped outside, used my inhaler, and leaned up against the barn’s wall.  As I caught my breath, I heard a very distinct squeaking coming from inside the wall.  I jumped away from the wall, spun around, and realized that I had been resting my head against a small hole.  Staring contemptuously at me from inside that hole was a really ticked-off looking rat.  No matter how many times I washed my hair that day (and, believe me, I washed and rewashed it a lot), I could not stop imagining the feeling of germ-ridden rodents running across the back of my head.

Ever since that day, whenever I’ve seen a rat in a movie (or, God forbid, real life), I’ve remembered that feeling and it still makes me shudder.  It’s a reminder that, in the end, we’re all going to end being devoured by the same scavengers.

On the other hand, whenever I see a gerbil, I’m reminded of that episode of South Park where Mr. Garrison, attempting to get fired, makes Mr. Slave his new teaching assistant.

And whenever I see Rats: Night of Terror, I’m reminded of the Pandemic episodes of South Park because the gerbils in this film appear to be about as naturally aggressive as a bunch of guinea pigs dressed up like pirates.

Pirates!

 Yes, Rats: Night of Terror has a lot going against it.  The characters are boring, the rats are gerbils, and the director is Bruno Mattei.  It would be easy to dismiss this film if not for the Scene.  Oh, how I wish I could tell you something about the Scene without giving the whole thing away.  I wish there was some way I could safely expand on just how weird and silly and oddly wonderful the Scene is.

Tell you what.  My e-mail address is LisaMarieBowman@live.com.  Or you can talk to me on twitter where I’m @LisaMarieBowman.  If you’ve seen this movie or if you see the movie after reading this review, contact me and tell me what you thought when you saw the Scene.  Seriously, it’s something that has to be discussed.

If you haven’t seen the film, I’ll give you a clue about the Scene.  It happens at the end of the movie.  It makes absolutely no sense and it is so extremely odd that it actually makes you wonder if maybe the entire film was meant to be somehow satiric.  What’s especially odd is that most viewers usually guess what the Scene is going to be halfway through the film before then thinking, “No, no way.  There’s no way that’s going to happen.”

So, to a return to the original question, can one scene make an entire film worth seeing?

In the case of Rats: Night of Terror, the answer is yes.

Review: Hostage (dir. by Florent Siri)

Posted on by Arleigh

The five years or so has seen the rise of several new directors from France who’ve made quite a splash with their Hollywood debuts. There’s Alejandro Aja with Haute Tension (or Switchblade Romance/High Tension) who brought back the late 70’s early 80’s sensibilities of what constitutes a good slasher, exploitation film. Then there’s Jean-Francois Richet whose 2005 remake of John Carpenter’s early classic, Assault on Precinct 13 surprised quite a bit in the industry. Neither film made too much in terms of box-office, but they did show that a new wave of genre directors may not be coming out of the US but from France of all places. Another name to add to this list is Florent Siri and his first major Hollywood project Hostage shows that he has the style and skills to make it in Hollywood.

Hostage is another Bruce Willis vehicle that was adapted by Doug Richardson (wrote the screenplay for Die Hard 2) from Robert Crais’ novel. Hostage is a very good thriller with a unique twist to the hostage-theme. Willis’ character is a burn-out ex-L.A. SWAT prime hostage negotiator whose last major case quickly ended up in the death of suspect and hostages. We next see him as chief of police of a small, Northern California community where low-crime is the norm. We soon find out that his peace of mind and guilt from his last case may have eased since taking this new job, but his family life has suffered as a consequence. All of the peace and tranquility is quickly shattered as a trio of local teen hoodlums break into the opulent home of one Walter Smith (played by Kevin Pollak). What is originally an attempt to steal one of the Smith’s expensive rides turn into a hostage situation as mistakes after mistakes are made by the teens.

From this moment on Hostage would’ve turned into a by-the-numbers hostage thriller, but Richardson’s screenplay ratchets things up by forcing Willis’ character back into the negotiator’s role as shadowy character who remain hooded and faceless throughout the film kidnap his wife and daughter. It would seem that these individuals want something from the Smith’s home and would kill Willis’ character’s family to achieve their goals. The situation does get a bit convoluted at times and the final reel of the film ends just too nicely after what everyone goes through the first two-third’s of the film.

The character development in the film were done well enough to give each individual a specific motivation and enough backstory to explain why they ended up in the situation they’ve gotten themselves into. Willis’ performance in Hostage was actually one of better ones in the last couple years. The weariness he gives off during the film was more due to his character’s state of mind rather than Willis phoning in his performance. I would dare say that his role as Chief of Police Jeff Talley was his best in the last five years or so. The other performance that stands out has to be Ben Foster as the teen sociopath Mars. Foster’s performance straddles the line between being comedic and over-the-top and could’ve landed on either side. What we get instead is one creepy individual who almost becomes the boogeyman of the film. In fact, the last twenty minutes of Hostage makes Mars into a slasher-film type character who can’t seem to die.

The real star of the film has to be Florent Siri’s direction and sense of style. From the very first frame all the way to the last, Siri gives Hostage the classic 70’s and 80’s Italian giallo look and feel. Siri’s use of bright primary colors in conjuction with the earthy, desaturated look of the film reminds me of some of the best work of Argento, Bava and Fulci. In particular, Siri’s film owes alot of its look to films such as Tenebrae, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, and The Psychic. Certain scenes, especially the penultimate climax in the Smith home, take on an almost dreamlike quality. Siri’s homage to the classic gialli even gives Hostage some sequences that would comfortably fit in a 70’s slasher film.

Florent Siri’s Hostage is not a perfect film and at times its increasing tension without any form of release can be unbearable to some people, but it succeeds well enough as a thriller. It also shows that Siri knows his craft well and instead of mimicking and cloning scenes from the gialli he’s fond of, he emulates and adds his own brushstrokes. The film is not for everyone and some people may find the story convoluted if not dull at times, but for me the film works well overall. Siri is one director that people should keep an eye on.

Review: A Blade In The Dark (dir. by Lamberto Bava)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

If you’re lucky, you remember your first time.  I know I do.  I was 17 years old and I was trying very hard to convince myself that I was an adult.  It had been less than a year since I was first diagnosed as being bipolar and I was still struggling to understand what that truly meant about me.  My days were spent wondering if I was crazy or if I was just misunderstood.  In the end, I just desperately wanted to be loved.  As for the event itself, I remember being more than a little anxious and, once things really got going, pleasantly surprised.  However, the main thing I remember is thinking to myself, “Wow, that’s a lot of blood.”

Yes, everyone should remember the experience of seeing their first giallo as clearly as I do.

Over the years, I’ve read a lot of different definitions of what a giallo is and none of them have really managed to capture what makes this genre of film so strangely compelling.  The simplest and quickest definition is that a giallo is an Italian thriller.  Typically (though not always), the film features a protagonist who witnesses and then proceeds to investigate a series of increasingly gory murders.  Often times, solving the murders means uncovering some dark and sordid sin of the past and, just as often, the film’s “hero” turns out to be as damaged a soul as the killer.  However, the plot is rarely the important in a giallo film.  What’s important is how the director chooses to tell the story.  When I watch the classic giallo films of the 60s and 70s, I get a sense of a small group of directors who were all competing to say who could come up with the most startling camera angle, who could pull off the bloodiest death scene, and who could pull off the most audacious tracking shot.  Giallo is a uniquely Italian genre of film, an unapologetic opera of mayhem and murder.  For the most part, the films seems to have a polarizing effect on viewers.  You either get them or you don’t.  (From my own personal experience, I think it helps if you come from a Catholic background but, again, that’s just my opinion.)

My first giallo was Lamberto Bava’s 1983 shocker, A Blade in the Dark.

The protagonist of A Blade in the Dark is Bruno, a popular young composer who has been hired to score a horror movie.  The film’s director has arranged for Bruno to stay in an isolated villa while he works.  Every night, Bruno sits in front of his piano and searches for the perfect note.  Occasionally, his actress girlfriend calls him from the other side of Italy and demands to know if he’s cheating on her.  He’s not despite the fact that he has two attractive neighbors who tend to come by at the most inconvenient of times and who make cryptic comments about the woman who lived at the villa before him.  Bruno would probably be even more frustrated if he knew that, on most night, he’s being watched by someone outside hiding outside the villa.  One night, Bruno listens to the movie’s soundtrack and hears a menacing voice whispering on the recording.  Meanwhile, the mysterious watcher begins to brutally murder anyone who has any contact with Bruno.

(Despite all these distractions, Bruno continues to vainly try to create the perfect score.  Much like Kubrick’s Shining, A Blade in the Dark is as much about the horrors of the artistic process as it is about anything else.)

As it typical of most giallo films, the plot of A Blade in the Dark makes less and less sense the more that you think about it.  However, this is a part of the genre’s charm.  One doesn’t watch a giallo for the story.  One watches to see how the story is told and that is where A Blade in the Dark triumphs.  Wisely, director Lamberto Bava keeps things simple.  Working with a small cast and one main set, Bava fills every scene with a palpable sense of dread and uneasiness.  As Bruno finds himself growing more and more paranoid, so does the audience.  Watching the movie, you feel that anyone on the screen could die at any moment and, for the most part, that turns out to be the case.

A Blade in the Dark is probably best known for the brutality of its violence.  Even after repeat viewings, the murders are still, at times, difficult to watch. In the most infamous of them, one of Bruno’s neighbors is killed while washing her hair over a sink.  The violence here is so sudden and so much blood is spilled (and spurted) that its easy to miss just how well-directed and effectively shocking this scene really is.  In this current age of generic cinematic mayhem, the violence of A Blade In The Dark still packs a powerful punch.

(The scene is so effective that, for quite some time after seeing it, I actually got uneasy whenever I found myself standing in front of a sink.  A Blade in the Dark does for the bathroom sink what Psycho did for showers.)

Bruno is played by Andrea Occhipinti, an actor whose non-threatening, Jonas Brotheresque handsome earnestness was used to great effect by Lucio Fulci in the earlier New York Ripper.  Since I’ve only seen the dubbed version, it’s difficult to judge his performance here.  He’s never quite believable as a great composer though you could easily imagine him writing whatever syrupy ballad that James Cameron chooses to play at the end of his next blockbuster.  However, Occhipinti does have a likable enough presence that you don’t want to see him killed and that’s all that the film really requires anyway.

A far more interesting presence in the cast is that of Michele Soavi.  Soavi plays Bruno’s landlord and, even with limited screen time and even with his dialogue dubbed into English, Soavi is such a charismatic presence that he dominates every scene that he’s in.  Before being cast, Soavi was already serving as Bava’s assistant director on Blade in the Dark and, of course, he later went on to have a significant directorial career of his own.  Soavi is perhaps best known for directing one of the greatest films of the 1990s, Dellamorte Dellamore.

While Soavi would go on to great acclaim, the same cannot be said of this movie’s director.  Among fans of Italian horror, it’s become somewhat fashionable to be dismissive of Lamberto Bava.  It’s often pointed out that the majority of his filmography is actually made up of cheap knock-offs that he made for Italian television (and, admittedly, A Blade in the Dark started life as a proposed miniseries).  Most of the credit for Bava’s most succesful film — Demons — is usually given to producer Dario Argento.  Perhaps the most common complaint made about Lamberto Bava is that he isn’t his father, Mario Bava.  With films like Blood and Black Lace, Lisa and the Devil, Black Sabbath, and Bay of Blood, Mario Bava developed a deserved reputation for being the father of Italian horror and Lamberto is often accused of simply trading in on his father’s reputation.

It’s true that Lamberto Bava is no Mario Bava but then again, who is?  Blade in the Dark was Lamberto’s second film (as a director) and its a tightly constructed, quickly paced thriller.  Bava makes good use of the vila and creates a truly claustrophobic atmosphere that keeps the viewer on edge throughout the entire film.  Even when viewed nearly three decades after they were filmed, the film’s murders are still shocking in both their violence and their intensity.  There’s a passion and attention-to-detail in Bava’s direction here that, sadly, is definitely lacking in his later films.  If most of Bava’s film seem to be the work of a disinterested craftsman, A Blade in the Dark is the  work of an artist.

Review: The Black Waters Of Echo’s Pond (dir. by Gabriel Bolongna)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

 

I’m going to start this review with a disclaimer.  Yesterday, I nearly died trying to see this movie.  As I was driving to the theater, I nearly collided with another car.  One of us (okay, it me) wasn’t paying attention and ran a stop sign.  We handled the near accident with the usual mix of car horns and profanity and, my heart still racing, I drove on to the theater and saw The Black Waters of Echo’s Pond.

As a result of my near death experience, I sat through this movie with one thought in my head: was seeing it worth losing my life?  While there are some movies (Suspiria, Beyond the Darkness, Zombi 2, and the Living Dead Girl, for example) that I would happily sacrifice a few years in order to see on the big screen, Black Waters is not one of them.

The film actually starts out well with a 9-minute prologue.  An archeological expedition in Turkey discovers an ancient tomb.  Inside the tomb, they find a map that is somehow linked to the Greek God Pan.  For nine minutes, we’re treated to clunky exposition (“Why, it’s what we’ve been here looking for!”  “Professor, do you mean that it’s the ancient map of Pan’s Arcadia?”  “Yes, the same Pan who was the Greek God of fertility and…”) and it seems like this movie might actually turn out to be a fun, cheerfully stupid take on the old Mummy movies that Hammer Studios released in the late 60s.

No such luck.  All the members of the expedition are promptly killed off-screen.  We jump forward to the “present day” and the entire movie quickly goes downhill.

In the present day, nine college friends get together to spend a weekend in an isolated mansion on an even more isolated island.  Why they would want to do this is never really addressed nor do you ever believe that any of the characters have a shared history or would actually be friends if not for the fact that the film demands it.  While there are some talented actors in the cast, they have absolutely no chemistry when they’re on screen together.  Since the rest of the film is pretty much dependent upon us believing that these people are all old friends, this lack of chemistry pretty much dooms the entire movie. 

(Add to that, the men in this group all appear to be having the worst bad hair day in recorded history.)

Once they’re in the mansion, the power promptly dies.  While attempting to find a fuse box, one of the friends instead discovers a board game.  Our group proceeds to play the game and soon, they’re seeing visions of murder, illicit sexual activity, and a big-horned demon.  However, none of them find this to be all that curious because they are 1) stoned and 2) incredibly stupid.

As I watched them play this cursed Jumanji death game, I found myself wondering if nobody in this film had ever seen a horror movie before.  Surely, if they had, they would realize that getting together in an isolated location, joking about sex, smoking weed, and then playing with the mysterious game that was previously walled up in the cellar is a good way to guarantee that you’re not going to be alive in the morning. 

To a certain extent, you have to be willing accept a lot of stupidity on the part of the characters in a horror film.  After all, we all know that our poor victims are always going to end up running up a flight of stairs in order to escape the killer (as opposed to going out the front door) and we forgive them for that because we know that if their actions were logical, then there would not be a movie.  However, the victims of the Black Waters of Echo’s Pond simply require us to forgive too much. 

Anyway, the game quickly starts to get weird as everyone draws cards that require them to answer increasingly personal questions.  Old resentments boil up to the surface.  One guy admits to wanting to have sex with both his girlfriend and her sister while the token responsible girl finds herself compelled to flirt with the token slut.  All of this goes on until finally, one member of the group snaps and, while everyone else is busy getting it on, proceeds to cut his best friend in half with a chainsaw.  (And no, nobody in the house hears the screams or the chainsaw because, as I mentioned earlier, they’re all incredibly stupid.)

Once that first murder is committed, everyone is soon trying to kill everyone else.  In this regard the film is remarkably similar to Mario Bava’s classic Bay of Blood (a.k.a. Twitch of the Death Nerve).  However, the constant carnage in the Bava film worked because Bava made it clear that his many murderers were all working independently from each other with just their own greed to motivate them.  Whereas in Black Waters, it is made clear from the start that everyone has been possessed by Pan.  In short, the murders have nothing to do with the people being killed or those who do the killing.  And while the murders are nicely brutal and bloody (I hate bloodless horror films), they don’t have any meaning beyond the mechanics of the film.

Pan (or at least I assume that its meant to Pan because it looks more like a Minotaur than anything else) shows up fairly early in the movie and he is an impressive creature with a goat’s head that features glowing eyes and long, dirty talons at the end of his fingers.  Still, I think it was a mistake on the part of the filmmaker’s to reveal him as early (and as often) as the film does.  Once Pan shows up, the movie loses all of its mystery.  We now know, for sure, that all the ensuing mayhem is the result of Pan’s supernatural malevolence.  By revealing Pan as early as it does, the film sacrifices whatever chance it may have had to be truly scary.  Instead Pan, just becomes another faceless killer and the movie, which has been advertised as a “psychological thriller,” loses its edge.

Outside of Pan, the cast is largely forgettable and they’re certainly not helped by how unlikable the majority of the characters are.  A few members of the cast do occasionally manage to offer up a few good (or, at least, memorable) moments but their efforts are sabotaged by some of the most leaden dialogue I’ve ever heard.  (It’s not a good sign that the film feels like it was dubbed into English even though it’s not.) 

The Babysitter twins from the Planet Terror segment of Grindhouse show up for instance and, even though their characters are wildly inconsistent, they both bring a lot of energy to their roles.  Incidentally, one of them gets the worst the line of the dialogue in the entire film when she says, “Shakespeare is Shakespeare!  B-movies are porn!”

Robert Patrick plays Pete, the grizzled old-timer who gets to do the whole “Some people say the killer is still out there…” thing.  It’s not much of a role but Patrick has fun with it.

Speaking of horror film tropes, Mircea Monroe plays Veronique, the token slut.  From the minute she shows up on-screen, you know she’s doomed because she’s flirtatious, openly bisexual, and likes to show off her boobs.  (Come to think of it, if I ever find myself in a slasher film, I am fucked!)  It’s a thankless role but Monroe does her best with it and actually give Veronique a personality that goes beyond the puritan stereotype of the slasher film slut.  Her best scene is her last.  The look of mournful resignation on her face make her final fate rather sad and suggests the type of film that Black Waters could have been.

The two nominal leads are played Danielle Harris and James Duval and they both occasionally manage to transcend the shallowness of their roles.  Harris, of course, is a horror film veteran who could play her role in her sleep.  To her credit, she doesn’t.  James Duval is best known for playing Frank the Bunny in Donnie Darko.  Here, he plays ne’er-do-well Rick.  If for no other reason, the movie is worth seeing just for the way Duval delivers the line “Shit!  We’re fucked!”  It’s a line that he repeats several times and he says it with just the right combination of genuine frustration and stoner pathos.

In many ways, Black Waters On Echo’s Pond feels a lot like one Lucio Fulci’s post-Manhattan Baby efforts.  You have no doubt that the movie was made by talented people and you keep wanting it to be better than it actually is.  You find yourself clinging onto the few isolated moments that are actually effective and hoping that maybe they’ll carry you to the light at the end of the tunnel.  Unfortunately, by the end of the movie, you realize that the light was actually the train that’s just bisected you because you were too stupid to jump off the tracks.

Ultimately, the main problem with The Black Waters of Echo’s Pond is that it just is not a scary movie.  I can usually forgive a lot from a horror movie as long as there’s a handful of shocking “jump” moments.  Unfortunately, Black Waters doesn’t feature a single one.  While the gore effects are occasionally impressive, it takes more than blood to make a horror movie.  All the material was there for this to be a fun little B-movie (and not a porno, regardless of what that Babysitter Twin claims) but it just doesn’t happen.

I recently posted some of my feelings about this film over on a message board.  I quickly received a reply from a gentleman who disagreed with me.  He informed me that not only did I not have the slightest idea how difficult it is to make a movie but by criticizing this film, I was failing to support “independent film.”  “Why don’t you just go spend more of your money on Avatar again?” he asked.  Well, for the record, I hated Avatar and I do support independent film.  Just because this movie was made outside of the studios, that doesn’t make it a good film.  If you want to see a good, independent horror and/or fantasy film, go track down Baghead or Primer.  Leave the Black Waters of Echo’s Pond undisturbed.

Review: Night of the Living Dead – 1968 (dir. George A. Romero)

Posted on by Arleigh

I wasn’t born yet when George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead was first released in theaters, but I’ve wished many a night that I was old enough to have seen this classic horror film on the big screen. Night of the Living Dead simply changed the film industry forever and showed that horror was taking an uncharted road toward realism, brutality, and true terror. Before Romero’s film, horror often echoed the classic 1940s Universal style or the technicolor Hammer Films. Night of the Living Dead became the torchbearer of what would soon evolve into the splatter and exploitation films of the following decades. The influence this film has had on horror filmmakers is still ongoing.

Zombie films existed long before Night of the Living Dead, but they mostly depicted the traditional Haitian voodoo variety—with zombies as heavily drugged victims forced into slave labor for merciless masters. Romero changed all that in 1968. Made on a shoestring budget even by the standards of the time, Romero and his friends decided to make their own horror movie. The premise was simple: radiation from a returning Venus probe (though later films in the series abandoned that explanation for something more vague) somehow reanimated the recently deceased—though these zombies only had the most basic motor skills. That alone was terrifying enough. But Romero took it further by giving the zombies a new motivation: an unending hunger for the flesh of the living. With this, Night of the Living Dead marked the birth of horror at its most extreme.

The story was heavily influenced by Richard Matheson’s apocalyptic vampire novel I Am Legend, and Herschel Gordon Lewis’ Blood Freaks and Two Thousand Maniacs. Matheson’s novel contributed the idea of an encroaching horror besieging the survivors, while Lewis’ films provided an unflinching portrayal of exploitative violence and gore. Lewis didn’t shy away from gore, but Romero was the first to put a solid story behind the carnage.

The film opens simply enough, with a brother and sister heading to a rural cemetery to visit their dead mother. Right away, it takes on a disturbing tone, as both siblings come under attack from what seems to be a transient. Barbara, played by Judith O’Dea, flees for her life, with her brother Johnny already down. The tension of the opening sequence still makes my pulse pound every time I watch it. Soon, the story introduces the strongest character: Ben, played by Duane Jones in what became his signature performance. But even as strong-willed and level-headed as Ben is, he shares flaws that lead to critical mistakes later. The rest of the cast follows: Harry Cooper (Karl Hardman), his wife Helen (Marilyn Eastman), their injured daughter Karen (Kyra Schon), and the local couple Tom (Keith Wayne) and Judy (Judith Ridley). As the farmhouse becomes surrounded by a growing horde of undead, attracted by their noise, you’d expect the group to band together to survive the night until help arrives. But instead, misunderstandings and bitterness divide them, escalating into open conflict and self-preservation without concern for others.

The infighting and inability to cooperate is Night of the Living Dead’s strongest message—a bleak reflection of human nature in times of upheaval. The characters are fully realized, complex, and rare for horror films of that era. Their realistic portrayal makes their conflicts hit harder. After watching them fall apart, it’s easy to judge them as foolish, but realistically, many others faced with the same pressure might behave just as destructively. Romero’s harsh commentary on humanity’s failure to unite has led to conflict throughout history, and the film points this out in the bluntest, most brutal way possible.

The horror of Romero’s film is intensified by an economic choice. Color film was available in the 1960s but still expensive; only major studios or wealthy independents could afford it. Romero instead used black and white, helped by his background in documentary filmmaking, which made film stock easier to procure. This gave Night of the Living Dead its signature cinéma vérité look—grainy, raw, and immediate, like 8mm home movies of the era. Combined with Romero’s economical editing and minimalist, bass-heavy soundtrack, the film gains a life of its own. Its creeping dread was so tangible, I’m surprised more viewers didn’t walk out when it first played. The horror lingered long after watching.

There really isn’t much to complain about this film. Horror fans were given a movie that went well beyond exploitation. It also opened the door for a new generation of filmmakers who saw that movies could be more than entertainment—they could express social, political, and economic truths of their era. Night of the Living Dead had it all. It told audiences young and old that the era of silly, fantastical horror was over, and a new wave of realistic horror was about to descend. It didn’t shy away from violence. Flesh was ripped from limbs; intestines and organs were shown being handled and devoured. This “Vietnamization” of film violence launched a new era in what filmmakers could depict. But in 1968, this was the kind of violence usually reserved for drive-in exploitation fare—and initial audiences were unprepared. Not just adults, but 11- and 12-year-olds saw this as part of Saturday morning double features. One moment they were watching Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers, the next they faced flesh-eating ghouls and damning social themes bombarding their minds.

1968 is now seen as a turning point in filmmaking history. Night of the Living Dead influenced not just horror directors but filmmakers in all genres. It’s no surprise the film lives in the Smithsonian National Film Registry as a work that reshaped filmmaking art. Decades later, it still shocks first-time viewers and delights devoted fans. Night of the Living Dead didn’t just usher in a new era of horror and cinema; it announced the arrival of a genuine guerrilla auteur, a master of his craft.

Review: The Wild Geese (dir. by Andrew V. McLaglen)

Posted on by Arleigh

1978’s action war film The Wild Geese is an adaptation of Daniel Carney’s unpublished novel about a group of mercenaries on a mission during the turbulent revolutionary times that beset Central Africa during the 1960s and early 70s. The film features an all-star cast of British actors, a true who’s who of the era. Under the direction of Andrew V. McLaglen, The Wild Geese manages to be an action-packed and well-told film with memorable performances.

The character Colonel Allen Faulkner, played by Sir Richard Burton, is loosely based on the real-life mercenary legend Michael “Mad Mike” Hoare. Hoare not only inspired this central character but also served as the film’s military and technical advisor. Adding to the film’s authenticity, one of the actors portraying a mercenary, Ian Yule, had served with Hoare in his mercenary company. This infusion of real-life experience gives the film a vivid sense of art imitating life and lends credibility to its portrayal of mercenary warfare.

The story begins with a meeting between Faulkner and British banker Sir Edward Matheson about a rescue mission in the fictional Central African nation of Zembala. The first third follows Faulkner’s recruitment of a 50-man mercenary team, including his reluctant old friend Rafer Janders (Sir Richard Harris). The film portrays the mercenary company training and preparing for the mission before being inserted behind enemy lines. The second half details the rescue of their target: a deposed African leader about to be executed by the man who overthrew him.

During the second third of the film, the action intensifies. Though tame by today’s standards, the sequences were energetic and well-shot for their time. The mercenaries are shown not as idealized heroes but as pragmatic soldiers who use ruthless tactics—such as cyanide gas and poisoned crossbow bolts—that may shock modern audiences. This realism reflects Hoare’s influence and presents mercenaries as professionals doing a dangerous job for pay, blurring the moral lines of warfare. Betrayal during the mission tests their survival in enemy territory.

Burton and Harris deliver excellent performances as hardened war veterans, while a younger Sir Roger Moore adds roguish charm as the Irish pilot Shaun Fynn. Strong supporting roles include Hardy Kruger as Pieter Coetzee, an initially racist Afrikaner who gains new perspective on the continent’s upheaval, and Stewart Granger as the principled banker Matheson.

Though relatively small budgeted compared to other war epics of the era, The Wild Geese carries an epic feel and should have appealed more to American audiences. Unfortunately, financial difficulties with the production company affected its U.S. release. Over time, video and DVD releases built it a cult following among war and mercenary film fans, a subgenre often dominated by lesser films. McLaglen’s straightforward direction keeps the film’s pacing steady, and the story balances action with political and philosophical themes in its final act.

The Wild Geese stands as a rare gem in war cinema that delves into a little-known subgenre. With strong performances by knighted British actors, a former Hitler Youth, and real-life mercenaries as extras, the film distinguishes itself from the many flawed war movies flooding late-70s and early-80s cinema. Its roots in actual mercenary experiences, highlighted by Hoare’s real-life involvement and character inspiration, make it a compelling and underappreciated classic for aficionados of the genre.

Review: Night of The Hunted (dir. by Jean Rollin)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

When, at that age of 22, I first saw Jean Rollin’s Night of the Hunted, I cried as much as the first time I saw Titanic at the age of 12.  In both cases, the tears were inspired by a “doomed” love story.  The main difference between the two films is that I don’t cry over Titanic anymore.  But Night of Hunted still brings me to tears every time I see it.

The film opens with the image of a terrified young woman (Brigitte Lahaie) running through a dark forest until she eventually reaches a highway.  She’s picked up by a young man (Vincent Gardere) who, being a guy, proceeds to take her back to his apartment in Paris.  She confesses that she can’t remember who she is, why she was running, or even being picked up by the young man in the first place.  Saying that she needs some sort of memory to fill the emptiness, she proceeds to make love to Gardere.  Gardere, being a guy, doesn’t object.

However, he does make the mistake of later leaving Lahaie alone in the apartment afterwards.  As soon as Gardere leaves, Lahaie forgets ever meeting him and why she’s even in the apartment in the first place.  Even as she tries to figure out what’s going on, the apartment is visited by a doctor who tells Lahaie that she is his patient and that she needs to go with him to a “clinic” where he can treat her.  No longer remembering her encounter with Gardere, Lahaie agrees.

Needless to say, the “clinic” turns out to be what Lahie was so desperately trying to escape just a few hours before.  We learn that Lahie is merely one of several hundred people who, months earlier, were exposed to a biological warfare experiment gone wrong.  Now, as a result, her brain is slowly dying one cell at a time.  The clinic is actually a government-run prison where she and her fellow victims have been sent to be forgotten about and to eventually die.  Lahie finds herself surrounded by men and women who, as they slowly lose everything that made them unique, revert back to their most primal instincts.  While Gardere tries to find her, Lahie struggles to survive just one final night in both the clinic and in the prison of her own fading mind.

Director Jean Rollin is best known for his sexually-themed vampire films but the Night of the Hunted is not as huge a departure for him as it may first seem.  One of Rollin’s reoccurring themes is the importance of our memories, no matter how idealized they may sometimes be and this theme is present in every frame of Night of the Hunted.

The lead role is played by Rollin’s frequent muse and collaborator, Brigitte Lahaie.  Because the majority of Lahaie’s career has been spent making adult films, she’s never gotten the due she deserves as an actress.  Playing a difficult role here, Lahaie is the movie’s greatest strength.  She brings a real sincerity and empathy to her role and its impossible to imagine this movie working without her.  If nothing else, this movie is a wonderful display of Lahaie’s often underrated talent. 

Rollin made the film for very little money and used a cast made up almost entirely of nonprofessionals and French adult film veterans.  So, yes the film does sometimes have a grainy look and the editing is definitely jagged.  When the characters shoot at each other, it is obvious that they’re firing toy cap guns.  To me, however, this works in the film’s favor.  The raw quality of the film perfectly mirrors that constant fear and confusion that Lahaie and her fellow prisoners live in.  No, the film is not technically perfect but a flawed masterpiece is preferable to uninspired technical perfection any day.

Despite working with a miniscule budget, Rollin captures some haunting images in this film.  Never has Paris looked as desolate as in this movie.  One of Rollin’s trademarks has always been his own fascination with architecture and, as a result, the cold skyscraper where Lahaie is held prisoner almost becomes a character itself.  I’ve always considered Jean Rollin to be horror cinema’s equivalent to Jean-Luc Godard and, with its images of a sterile city run by passionless autocrats, Night of the Hunted brings to mind Godard’s Alphaville.

 The film’s most haunting image comes at the end and it is this image that brings tears to my eyes every time.  Whatever flaws the film may have, Night of the Hunted has one of the best final shots in the history of cinema.  Even if everything preceeding it had been worthless, this movie would be worth sitting through just for the stark beauty of the final shot.  Night of the Hunted ends on a note that manages to be darkly sad and inspiringly romantic at the same time.  It’s an ending that makes Night of the Hunted one of the most romantic films of all time.

Night of the Hunted was released in 1980 and, like the majority of Rollin’s films, was never released in the States.  Redemption, however, has released it on DVD (which is how I first saw it in 2008.)   While the transfer is undeniably rough, that actually gives the movie a documentary-like quality that works in its favor.  The film is in French with English subtitles.   As is so often the case with subtitles, a lot of the film’s nuance is sacrificed in translation.  Fortunately, the combination of Rollin’s visual sense and Lahaie’s lead performance more than makes up for it.