The Calgary Underground Film Festival. Part 2

"Do You need to be touching my horse?"

So the festival is over. I missed a lot of films I wish I hadn't (A Gun to the Head, the Hunt) but I guess that's always going to happen. Last time, I had just seen The Disappearance of Alice Creed. Since then, I've seen three films: RoboGeisha, Machotaildrop and Harmony Korine's Trashhumpers. They were all really awesome, and thus marking my first Canadian Premiere (Robogeisha). Although I throughly enjoyed all of them, I have to say that Trash humpers stole the show. I felt like I was in a cinema in Barcelona, in the 30s, watching an enraged, insulted and disgusted crowd reel and riot after watching Salivdor Dali's Chien D'or. I'll explain what I mean a little later.

Robo-Geisha is a Japanese horror comedy from director Noboru Iguchi, and holy shit is it funny. But even if I tried to explain to you why it is funny, or told you specific parts that made me laugh, it would some trite. Japanese comedies have an odd relationship to English, as some lines are simply better read than said so to speak. The plot is so absurd and ridiculous that it works. It's about Yoshi and her older sister Kikue who were training in the Geisha house since the death of their parents. They soon have dinner with the wealthy industrialist Kageno and find out that he is building a secret army of robotic Geisha assassins. Soon they are making hits for their male bosses. But when Yoshi is given a target of nice old people, who rally against the Kageno group for stealing their daughters/sisters away, she goes rogue against Kageno. The climax of this film is more ridiculous than you can possibly fathom, and well worth it. Japanese humor around humiliation, cruelty and honorable men doing silly things translate well I think to a western audience. Rent it with some friends, share some laughs.

Machotaildrop is an independent feature from Van city, a film about a world where skaeboarding is much more than a sport, but a higher cultural calling. Directed and written by Corey Adams (co-directored and co-written by Alex Craig), it's a fantastical, surreal and colorful journey. There are at least two major plot lines in this film, one following a young skate boarding Walter's rise to fame in the Machotaildrop house, the other is the story of the Manwolfes, a rabid wild skateboarding gang that roams an abandoned amusement park. The two plots work well with each others, pushing a strong and earnest critique of the corporatism of skateboarding culture, and the insanity of professional sports. My only problem with the film is the lead actor, the kid who plays Walter. He's terrible. Everything else in this film plays this part very well, EXCEPT him. And he is probably (besides the baron) the person who we see the most. I don't know why he got the part, perhaps he's friends with one of the directors or producers, but it was a bad movie. In spite of this, I recommend this movie, it will hold your attention, make you laugh and entertain you.

This brings us to Harmony Korine's latest film, Trash Humpers, Watching this film in a theater as opposed to alone was quite the experience, and I'll tell you why. The first few frames of Trash humpers show three senior citizens, literally fucking garbage bags/bins. Weird? Of course. And the audience reacted accordingly, laughing at the silliness of the images. By the end of the film, there was no laughter. Because, after we had been exposed to some of the most strange, disturbing and confusing scenes in recent cinematic memory, the trash humping simply isn't funny anymore. The film has no plot, there is no story to be told. No character development, no actual character names. The movie is filmed entirely on a camcorder, an old school one that even has the auto-tracking flashing in some parts. The images themselves are haunting, disturbing and will follow you for a while. The dialogue comes in waves of surreal monologues, delivered by bizarre characters in even weirder places. The film is constantly walking the line between harmless vandalism and psychotic violence. The fact that the thing is shoot in video gives you the eerie feeling that this may be real, and though you try and try to convince yourself otherwise, the feeling remains. In this post-modern age Korine has managed to create something truly original. And that alone is enough.

The Calgary Underground FIlm Festival, Part One.

I obviously am not able to go to every film screened at the week long festival, because i have to work. If anyone wishes to pay to me to see all of them just so I can write about it, do it. Anyways, the film I saw was called the Disappearance of Alice Creed, a debut feature by director J Blakeson. What the J stands for remains a mystery. Despite my sarcasm I was actually really impressed by this film, and when I found out that it was his first, well that just made it all the more sweeter. Briefly, the plot is this: Two British criminals convert an apartment into a prison cell, where they hold to kidnap a women and hold her for ransom. This sounds extremely simply, but it isn't. I don't want to give anything else away, because revealing anything past that point would spoil it. The plot is an intense thriller, with a lot of Hitchcockian elements to it. The plot keeps you guessing, and will surprise you and keep you on the edge of your seat. Seriously, the film is intense, rarely does my heart started pounding faster when I see a film. The script (J Blakeson wrote the film as well) is solid, with convincing dialogue and a no nonsense approach to story. I liked it, but I don't know if I'd watch it again. Because the plot itself is based on this sort of crazy twist pattern, I don't know if seeing it twice would be as enjoyable.

I also really enjoyed how effective the film was. By that I mean, it didn't use fancy special FX (I doubt he could afford them) and there are only three actors in the whole film. I would guess the most expensive scene would be when a van is set on fire. The film also pretty much takes place in one location, though near the end there is some travel. The film is also heavily influenced by German expressionism, as the props and buildings begin to reflect the character's psychological states. The film feels very close, very tense as if it's closing in around the characters. I don't know if the room physically gets smaller (this technique is used in a lot of films) but it certainly feels like it. The music is also stellar. The entire soundtrack is made up of kind of ambient, post-rock piano, cello, and fxs. The music might actually be my favorite part of this film, as it's haunting, sorrowful yet determined notes set a beautiful tone.

I don't know where this J Blakeson is going, or if we'll ever find out what the J stands for (perhaps Jay). But if this is his first film, then I can't wait to see his next one. The next film at the festival i will be attending is not till Saturday (work and school). It's a Japanese horror film called Robo-Geisha, and it looks awesome. It's a late night screening starting at 11:45. should be fun, if you're free or an insomniac you should come down!

Mean Streets (1973)

Writer/director: Martin Scorcese

"You don't make up for your sins in church. You do it in the streets. You do it at home. The rest is bullshit and you know it."

Mean Streets was considered to be Scorceses first industry film. Meaning big film. He had made one other full length film called "Who's That Knocking at my door" (AKA I Call First), which was made while in Film school in New York. That film also stared Harvey Keitel, and is in fact very similar to Mean streets. Mean Streets follows the life of Charlie, an up and comer in his local mob and his relationship to his neighborhood. Johnny Boy (Played by Robert De Niro) is Charlie's protege, and happens to be his girlfriends cousin. Johnny Boy however, is a bit of mess. He owes everyone in the neighborhood and never pays off his debt. This time however, Johnny has borrowed from Micheal, something of a big deal. *SPOILER ALERT* Well, as hard as Charlie tries, Johnny simply does not want to repay his debt, and pays for it. The narrative itself isn't exactly original when you boil it down to the bone. It's a story about someone who owes money, but doesn't have it. Or at least, that's the main plot. Beneath the surface, Mean Streets actually weaves a complex web of different themes, relationships and plots. Hang on folks, it's gonna be a long one.

Charlie as a character himself is an interesting case. To understand Charlie, you must in a sense understand the mentality behind the script. Scorsese's first feature film (I forgot to mention this earlier) is the story of Boxcar Bertha. If your unfamiliar with this colorful character of American folklore, she was a train hobo who robbed banks and gave the money to different unions. Now, before I say this I have to explain something: I love Scorcese, he is a legend and i have the utmost respect for his craft. Boxcar Bertha sucked. I mean really, it did, even Scorsese thought so. So he got some advice: Make something more personal. Scorcese did actually grow up in inner city New York, and did hang out with what he describes as "toughs" whether or not he was in a gang or not is unknown, but it's probable that he knew of people in them. So we have two sides to Scorcese: An artistic side (if you don't think Scorceses is Artistic, watch Who's That Knocking at my Door?) and a masculine or macho side. This duality between the feminized artistic side and masculine street side is made physically by a female companion. This is true both in Mean Streets and Who's That knocking at my door. Teresa is Charlie's girlfriend. He, however, doesn't tell anyone that he has a girlfriend. He keeps her secret. In fact, you almost get the sense that he is ashamed of her. This ties into another common theme in almost of all Scorceses work: Catholic guilt. The church is seen as a place of sanctuary, a haven free from the masculine world of proving oneself, and the feminized world of sensual creativity, while remaining masculine in a puritanical sense. When this protection is seen as fake, when Charlie finds out that a story a priest once told him was simply that, a story, he cannot reconcile that. "They're not supposed to be just guys" he says about priests. They were beyond being "guys". Catholicism is about that: striving for the impossible perfectibility (imitation of Christ) and beating yourself up for never quite getting there.

The film is all about balance. Charlie balances out his feminizied world with the masculine one, and these two polarized worlds with a supposedly middle one (church). But within these relationships the lines between masculine/feminine are blurred. In, what I think is the most telling point of the film, a particular scene Charlies shows a homo-social nature. Theresa is having a seizure (she is epileptic), Johnny storm away angrily (she's your girl he says). Charlie then leaves his suffering partner in the hands of a stranger old lady who lives in his building (actually, the old lady is Martin Scorceses's real life mother) to go to comfort Johnny. A dick move? Yes, almost literally. Am I suggesting that Scorcese put this in to add a homosexual quality to his character? No. However I do think it is telling, in light of the other themes and things going on in this film.

If you've seen or are familiar with the french new wave, you've be shocked on how much this movie takes from that movement. Only in the sense that, the plot kind of weaves in and out of relevancy. Characters go off on tangents, hanging out partying that don't forward the plot in a bare bones way but look at Charlie and his world more closely. The scene with the caged lion is a great example of this. The result is fascinating: You end up with a quite artsy film that looks and feels like a typically Hollywood narrative. This is when Scorcese balances that fine line so well, you hardly even notice it. Near the end of the film, the plot straightens itself out and finishes, but without the thematic wanderings, the ending would like any artistic meaning.

You will find yourself watching this movie and saying "wow...this dialogue is so cliche". While this is undoubtedly true today it certainly wasn't the case when this film came out. It was seen as an edgy, street-wise film that actually sounded like what everyone talks like. This is because Scorcese mostly invented the modern day cliches about New York Italian gangsters. And what's a cliche other than a badly copied classic? For indeed a lot of his films are classics, and although the dialogue is corny by today's standard, this only serves as a testament on how far dialogue and verbal representation has come in film. So, expect a lot of "what sa matter with you?" and "forgot about it" s. The music is sparse with not score, but songs from Scorcese's record collection at the time, which include a lot of roiling stones and other 60s-70s bands I know nothing about. It works well, making the movie feel hip and current at the time ( I think). The only other notable sound quality in this film is the voice-over work. The voice of Charlie in his head, his thoughts is not the voice of Harvey Keitel but of Scorcese. This wasn't done due to some technical error, but purposefully. A separation is made from the thoughts in Charlie's mind, to his words and actions. A separation of the physical, real world where one can hide or at least conceal your emotions, and the meta-physical or semi-real world of emotions, of inner strife.

This film contains the predecessor, practice run if you will, of the famous tracking shot in Goodfellas. It is itself a goody, although shorter than the Goodfellas one. A lot of of the hand held shots in this film were used because the film crew ran out of money for more tracks. This, I think, is a blessing in disguise as it gives the film a much more loose, on the verge of falling over feel to it. These slow, tracking shots are juxtaposed with jump cuts of items of people, rapid fire. The two styles together are an odd mix, and in his later work he doesn't use the jump cut as frequently. What is possibly my favorite scene in the party scene (with the returning solider). In it, there is a great shot with an attached camera on Harvey's face as he drunkenly stumbles in the bar. The effect is dizzying, so disorienting and sickening that you almost feel as if you are there. The progress of his facial expressions are perfect, the I'm really sick/depressed but trying to look happy face. The whole is shot with only rolling stones as backgrounds, as a consequence actually events in this sequence are blurred, forgotten or muted. What you see if the spurting style of a future master, and it's fantastic to watch.

Watch this film, espically if you've seen Goodfellas or even Raging Bull. I think you'll be surprised at the depth of it (although you shouldn't be). It's much more different from his later and much shittier works such as the Aviator or Casino. The words and dialogue may seem simple, but beneath the superficiality is this wealth of artistic meaning and pathos. Let it sink in.

M (1931)

M (1931)
Germany.

"Just you wait, it won't be long. The man in black will soon be here. With his cleaver's blade so true. He'll make mincemeat out of YOU! "

Director: Fritz Lang


Writers: Fritz Lang Thea von Harboou



*Spoiler Alert*

Fritz Lang is possibly one of the most forgotten directors in North America. Yes, I am aware that he is in fact Germany only coming to North America after fleeing from the Nazis but that's not the point. Hitchcock owes a lot to Lang, and so do a lot of film techniques that have become a stable in thriller genres. Also, this film is a technical landmark, it is the first film to ever use voice overs, a character speaking over images of something else happening. At the time, this was seen as revolutionary (and even confusion). The story revolves around the search for a serial killer that kidnaps and murders little girls. The police are unable to dig up any leads and are completely stumped. The people are angry, scarred, mothers cling to their daughters tightly. Anyone acting the least bit suspicious, or that shows any sort of kindness to children is accused of being the killer. The fact that a considerable bounty has been set doesn't help. The city is ready to explode, the police are getting more and more desperate and launch nightly raids on the "criminal districts" of the town. The criminals aren't enjoying it either. They're clubs are being raided, there "more police out than whores" to quote one colorful character, and more importantly is the principle of the thing. People are associating this person with them, and they are not child murders. We have their own morals, limits and rules, and this man is making people doubt that. The criminals become obsessed with catching this murder, and create a Beggar's Union, an organized army of beggars and hobos to watch every square inch of the city. It's a plot that talks about justice, suspicion, law and morality and the relationship between power and mobs.

The plot is simple in it's content: Who done it? Although we the spectators already know, it's not so much a mystery as it is a tension. This tension is between the two camps, police and criminals. Who will catch him, will he indeed be caught? And how many will he kill in the meantime. The plot follows three groups: 1 the police, represented by the chief, 2. the murderer played by Peter Lorre, and the criminals represented by some sort of mafia, or gang. There is a lot of juxtaposition of conversations between the criminals and the cops, as their over lapping interests and difference weave in and out. The symbiotic yet hostile relationship between the two is intriguing. The killer is seen doing mainly bizarre things, meant to make us pity him and feel repulsed by him. His whistling tune creeps up your spine as his shadow is cast over some innocent child, which wasn't even done by Peter Lorre who could not whistle, Lang had to do it himself and overdub the sound. We get the sense from him that he is indeed possessed by something, not well and definitely not killing for any sensible reason. As the plot lines beginning to collide, the fate of the killer seems sealed. Again, it's nothing terribly original, now. But at the time, an actual movie about a child murder was unbelievable, no one thought he could do it. And when Lang did it, no one thought it would pass the nazi censors, which it did. So, if you watch it (please do) you should try to keep this in mind.

Fritz Lang's abuse of actors in legendary. He actually threw Peter Lorre down the stairs over a dozen times, just to get the shot right. Lang was also obsessed with authenticity, and claims he casts real criminals during the mock trial scene (the criminals catch the murder and try him). Criminal justice or more accurately the idea of honor amongst thieves is a major part of this film. Although the criminals are motivated by some selfish reason, they are still generally disgusted by the killings. When they finally capture the killer in an abandoned warehouse, they hold a trial. The judge is replaced by a council (headed by the gang leader). The killer even has a defense lawyer. The argument ensues over the rightness or wrongness of killing the killer. The man can't help himself says the prosecution we must kill him. The defense argues that this is the very reason why he should spared. Whenever I watch a film in a language I do not speak, I hesitate to comment on the dialogue, for two important reasons: 1. I don't know if the translations are good or not. 2. What may sound odd or un natural in English may be common in another. if I had to guess, I would say that the dialogue in this film is typical of it's genre and time. Trying to be edge, without being able to say really nasty things on screen.

There are moment of dark visual beauty in this film, or more precisely, stills that stay with you. The M placed on the back of the murder's coat to identify him, (hence the title), the wild eyed, angry furious mob. Fritz Lang is very good at composition, and I am very excited to see some of his silent films, as I think that these will be even more picturesque. This is not to say that the sound is useless. Although there is little sound in general (sound was relatively new, so some scene with no dialogue are complete silent as the habit of recording sound effect for things like walking, street noises etc. had not be common place). When there is it works. The song the murder whistles is eerie, changing in tempo faster slower. There is also no music in this movie. None. Not a note. This is odd, considering that silent films usually had a musical score to it, and since this was a relatively new talkie I assumed that it would do. it gives the film a much more serious, real atmosphere. Adding music would only take away from the seriousness of the both the themes and the actually content.

Both Fritz Lang and Peter Lorre left Germany shortly after the release of this film. Lorre because he was Jewish, Lang because he was half Jewish. Lang went on to make English films, such as Fury. This is the first film of his I've seen so, it might be the start of something beautiful. You must see this film, really. If you really want to get into cinema, you're going to have to, at some point, watch this movie.

La Haine (Hate)

Director: Mathieu Kassovitz
Good, good. Let the hate flow through you.


Writer: Mathieu Kassovitz

"Wow, what a speech! Half Moses, half Mickey Mouse."

Written shortly after the french suburbs riots of the 90s, Hate follows the story of three friends living in the projects. What's great about this film is it's honestly and authenticity. In an industry full of shams, fakes and cheap tricks to suck money from the pockets of cinema lovers like myself, this is very refreshing. Kassovitz actually grew up in the project, and this movie was inspired by the murder of one of his friends at the hands of the french police. If you've seen the film, this is not surprising and actually explains a lot. How else could he write so naturally, so effortlessly the strange dialect of the french Bon-lieus?

Said, Vinz and Hubert wake up to the destruction and bitterness of the the riots of last night. Hubert, an African immigrant who owned a gym, seems disappointed but not surprised that during these riots his gym was torched. Vinz, a young and very angry jew, can't wait to tell the stories of how he fought in the riots (he even saw a cow). And Said, a young arab kid who is trying to gain some respect in the rough projects. What these three characters give us is three important elements of French society in the suburbs. North Africans and Arabs make up a huge amount of the population in these ghettos, with the Jewish community with smaller yet still significant numbers. It is not by accident then, that these three young men represent three different cultures are at the center of this film. During the riots, the police report that one of their officers lost they're firearm. Guess who found it? Vinz is committed to seeking vengeance in case Abel (the young arab who was severely beaten by police, and as a consequence hospitalized. His attack was the cause of the riots) dies in hospital. One pig for one brother. Blood for blood. The three visit paris, wander it's streets, getting into trouble, beating up nazis you know the usual. The plot is heavily influenced by a french new wave sense of slow wandering, an emphasis not on the actual peaks and lows of the plot but of the thematic content of these plot elements. What's interesting is that, unlike a lot of other french films of this caliber, the characters are not flat representations of ideas like paragraphs of an essay. These characters breath. They are vividly real, with moments of pathos, humor, joy and sorrow all punctuating different parts of the film. And yet they DO represents sets of ideas. Vinz, the ultimate symbol of class hatred, hot-headed youth fueled by the feeling that everything and everyone is against him. Said, those who deal with what comes. Those seemingly more interested in their hair, their own life their own family than other things. And Hubert, the young brilliant man, trying desperately to escape the ghetto while keeping his dignity intact. While this three perspectives are ultimately all under an umbrella influence of liberalism (more on this later), the three ultimately balance themselves out. The high points of the plot aren't the twists, the revelations, and it's not the end (although the ending is superb). It's the journey that counts, as cheesy as that sounds.

The direction of this film is absolutely stunning. With one of the best helicopter shots I have ever seen, that sequence is quickly become one of my favorite camera sequences ever. The images are bathed in shadows, light a dusty ambiance heightened by the black and white. You can almost feel the grit of this film, the very images radiate anger, frustration and a dark humor. From the desolate landscapes of the ghettos, to the stylized time lapses, this film just shines. Like the dialogue, the images urge to deep beyond the surface, to read (or see) between the lines. This some truly epic tracking shots that rivals those of Scorcese, the feeling that you are total there is pulled off wonderfully. Although there is very little action in this film (apart from actual footage from the riots, and a few other scenes), you feel as if the words are action. The dialogue is so fierce that you feel as if their words constitute a riot on their own.

The music is a poignant, meaning that it is largely absent and only comes in a specific time. The music allows the dialogue to take precedent above all else, and never the two compete which is a good thing. Music includes bits and piece of old school and new beats. The best part musical is when "Nique La police" plays during the helicopter shot. Unbelievable.

Last, but not least some analysis. It's rare to see a film that acknowledges the existing of the social war, much less creating a narrative of those actually participating in it. This war is seen as being fueled by the intrusion of the police, and colonization of poor people's lives through work, TV and pigs. One of the most telling scenes is when a reporter is asking the three protagonists if they were in the riots, only to be chased off. "What do you think this is, a zoo?" says one of them. Their lives are a spectacle, an event to be devoured by the media as entertainment, totally devoid of any meaning or social significance. This total alienation is a recurring theme throughout the film, and although I think that Kassovitz should be applauded for this, there are some limitations. The alienation is seen as, firstly, something new that has happened only recently. Secondly, it is seen as a sorrow, and not as a revolutionary potentiality. The social war, while evident in this film is put within a purely liberal context: Disarmament, on both sides. The basic premises of the film is that if this continues, this society will collapse, we can't go on like this, meaning that he does in fact WANT to salvage this system. Same event and condition, different perspectives or interpretations. This view is a historical, romantic (because a pathetic call of social peace is just that, pathetic). It is devoid of the realities of class, race, gender and capitalistic interest in the spectacle. Oh well, one can't expect too much I suppose. I can only sit patiently and wait for "social war: the film". (Which consists of a black screen that repeatably flashes "to the streets comrades!")

One of the most intense, interesting and and engaging films I've ever seen. You seriously MUST see it, do it.

Rushmore (1998)

"yeah, I was in the shit"
A bit awkward, non?


Director: Wes Anderson

Writer(s): Wes Anderson, Owen WIlson.

This was the first time I've ever seen a Wes Anderson film, as a few friends of mine kept harassing me about seeing one. Rushmore is a love triangle between Max Fischer, a very eccentric, intelligent student of the Rushmore private academy, Hermane Blume a rich, sad and lonely industrialist, and a mentor to max Fischer. And finally completing the awkward triangle Rosemary Cross, the new first grade teacher whom the two males are enthralled with. Sounds simple right? Well its not, it's really more of a humorous character study of Max Fischer.

Wes Anderson went to a playwright school in his home town of Dallas. It shows. Not only are there plays within the film, but the film itself is portrayed some what as a play, curtains rise and fall. To my surprise, I don't actually have much to say about this Film. Surprising I know, but I think the problem is not so much with Anderson, but with me (I am aware of the cliche). The fact is, Wes Anderson appeals to middle-class (so far it's right) kids that are old enough to remember the nineties well enough to get all his allusions. I fall directly under this bracket. Or maybe I'm wrong, and that brings me to the main point: I don't get all his allusions, I don't get a lot of because I am simply not hip enough. Doing a bit for research, I find that these allusions, although not critical to understanding the film, are definitely something that enriches the experience. A lot of his shots (including the one with Max Fischer in his go kart) are homages to an early nineteenth century french photographer. Anderson is in fact a very good film maker, and an even better writer. His wit shines through with every colorful characters line. With allusions to (yes I do get some of them) to on the waterfront and many other films, it's obvious that Anderson knows his stuff.

The plot unfolds smoothly, with humor at a awkwardly slow and playful pace. With just slightly improbable situations, watching this film you get the impression that this is inspired by some true. Rushmore, the school in the film is actually Wes Anderson's old high school. The whole film radiates with a sort of shy honesty, an honesty that's rare in films this days. I think my favorite part of the film is not the main love story between Fischer and his love interest, but between him and Blume, an odd friendship that I actually found to be more heart warming than the love interest. Thematically, as far as I can tell, it's not incredible. It's a coming of age film, through and through. Although the film proves that comedies are truly be art, I don't come away from the film pondering over it's meaning, or mulling over it's various points. I do go away happier, a little lighter and definitely entertained.

The music in this film is comprised almost entirely of indie songs. Originally, Anderson wanted only songs by the Kinks, but latter changed his mind. Music is one of those things in films, when you like it you hardly notice it, it seems natural or fitting. But when you don't, you always feel as if something is a little off, and you feel consequently, a bit put off (see what I did there?) I do not like indie music. I find it pretentious and irritating, so the music really really didn't grab me, it sort of just distracted me. The most notable audio elements in this film are the non-digestic inserts. The sounds of the ocean played over someone reading a book, planes or other noises when someone is thinking of something. These technics are rarely used, and if done in the wrong way can come off as extremely corny. Anderson pulls it off wonderful, which not only gives his film a sort of child-like imagination, laced with a bit of nostalgia quality to it, but shows his prowess as a director. These sound clips definitely make his direction style noticeable and unique.

It's hard for me to recommend this film. Not because I don't think many people will enjoy it, but because I'm not sure who will love it and who won't get it. The only way to find out is to go see it. Rent it, borrow it from a friend, whatever. The reason for my hesitation is simply a personal one, a matter of taste. I have a great respect for Anderson and his craft after watching this film, but it is not a style that strikes close to home for me.

Nosforatu: Phantom Der Nacht (1979)

Director: Werner Herzog

Writer: Werner Herzog

Notable cast members: Klaus Kinski.

The name Nosforatu is probably familiar to you. The now famous shot of the vampire's eerie shadow creeping up the stairs is easily recognizable. But, have you ever seen the original silent film? It's nearly three hours long (!), and in the restored version the blackness is gone because they restored the film, making it look cleaner and in a way less creepy.

Anyways, this is not that movie. This is a remake. Now, usually I would be hard-set against this, but this time it's different. Werner Herzog is arguably one of the best German directors, if not only in this era. What I love most about his work is his distinct authorship, making him more of an artist than most north American directors. However, this can make him a bit pretentious, which is ironic seeing as Herzog never went to film school, or even took a film course, he just made films.

In the original film, Henrik Galeen wrote an adaption of the classic Dracula. But when they started the legal work, they couldn't get the rights to the novel, so they changed things slightly to avoid any copyright infringement. So dracula became Graph Orlock, it didn't take place in Transilvania etc. By the time that Herzog made his version, Dracula entered the public domain and he was able to use the original names. The story in case you don't know is briefly this: A real estate agent is called to Count dracula's castle in order to buy a large house in London (or berlin ....whatever). When he goes there, Count dracula bites him, is in love with his wife, and traps the young man in his castle. The vampire travels to London, bringing with him a plague and pursues the women. In order to save her husband and the thousands of inhabitants of London who are suffering from the plague, the wife sacrifices her self to the vampire, tricking him into being killed by the sun.

This is however, a brief sketch. The story itself isn't exactly Shakespearean, but it's a classic. In the silent original, the film plays out exactly like that, with all characters playing their obvious parts. The wife is innocent pure, and a victim. The man is worried, striving against an impossible evil to save the purity of his wife. And the vampire is evil, through and though. It becomes quite obvious rather quickly why Herzog made this movie. It wasn't so much for the story, but the characters. Specifically, Dracula himself is explored in greater depth than the original. While still evil, his evilness is seem almost as an illness, a curse. The vampire is then a split person, the mortal in him wants death, love and humanity, while his vampiric impulses drive him to kill and spread evil. This inner tension is played out quite well by Klaus Kinski, as the vampire moves back and forth, unsure, sickly even yet strong and reluctantly powerful. Dracula speaks of his eternal life as a curse, a life lived in abject pain characterized by the impossibility of love. He becomes then, a tragic figure. One who craves what he can never have. We are repulsed by him, and yet we see him as a pathetic figure, a sad figure. And, like a tragic figure, his cravings lead to his demise. When he finally bites the wife, he does so not because he only wants blood, but he wants her love. In fact, he demands that directly, asking her for just half of the love that she gives her Husband, the real estate agent (Jonathan). She gives him this, and in doing so destroys him.

Lucy (the wife) is another interesting character. Although her sexuality is still sacrificed to save a male, she is seem has doing this more out of desperation than in the original. She is more in control in this version, as Johnathan is not saving her, but the reverse. Johnathan is in fact, pretty useless in this film. Not in a filmatic sense, but more in a general way. He doesn't actually do anything to stop Dracula, and is used almost exclusively as a plot device. He seems oblivious to Dracula's obvious ill intentions, and despite several attempts on Lucy's part, he ignores all ill omens and still proceeds to the castle. Lucy then, is in reality the main character of this film.

What unique and beautiful about Herzog's style is his minimalism and his naturalism. He doesn't interfere too much with the actual camera, barely ever uses any effects. What he is good at is finding naturally fitting spots that fit both in the narrative and also the theme or essence of his films. The castle is in ruins, abandoned and more important empty, like Dracula himself. It has the appearance of being human, but in reality is not. This is probably due to a strong influence of german expressionism in Herzog's work, albeit of a more subtle variety. He uses strong animal imagery in almost all his films, and this one is no exception. The plague is brought by thousands and thousands of rats that roam the city, and act as the vampire's army. These are real rats, and he really did release thousands of them in a Bavarian city for the shot. That's why he's an artistic, everything he does is authentic, natural on the spot. This gives his films more breath, more life and in a sense they are more real. A very impressive slow motion shot of a bat is used repetitively (though, Herzog's crew did not film this. It was borrowed from a scientific doc). Shadows, night and empty desolate landscapes sprinkle this movie creating an near perfect ambiance. The desolate plague shots will remain one of the most memorable ones for me.

The dialogue in this film is again quite to a minimal. If you don't think that the dialogue seems entirely natural you are right. Although not completely allegorical, the film does walk a fine line between the symbolic and the literal. This is why Herzog's craft is so impressive, because he is able to walk this line with relative ease, making it look natural. Characters speak from a thematic view point, dracula talks about death, love, evil and pain, while lucy talks about her husband, sacrifice and the limits of rational science. If you have been fed a steady diet of North american films, this may seem odd and you might try to blame it on the translations. But, lo and behold, watch it in English (they shot every scene twice, once in english another time in German to avoid voice overs) and you'll see that it's the same. It may take some time getting used to. The music too, is uniquely Herzog. Instead of Grandiose orchestras, he uses soft, mysterious ambient music, making the mood feel ancient, cold and eerie.

Herzog is one of the most haunting directors I've ever seen. Even when I think that the images are not that impressive at the time, specific scenes, images and lines will haunt me for days and days. Even if you don't like his movies, I promise you that his visions will be present in your mind for a long period of time after seeing them. Give it a chance.

The Exorcist

The Exorcist (1973)

Directed: William Friedkin

Screenplay: William Peter Blatty

Novel: William Peter Blatty

Believe or not, I have never actually seen the exorcist from beginning to end. I've seen bits and pieces through watching rudely over the shoulder of others for years now, and so finally I got a chance to actually see it. Right off the bat, I must say that I hate horror movies. With the exception of the George A. Romero original Night of the Living Dead, zombie flicks bore the hell out of me, and this vampire craze isn't doing anything either. The exorcist however, is none of these. In case some of you aren't familiar with catholic mysticism, an exorcism is a ritual preformed to cast out a possessing demon from a person or place. Although rarely preformed now, they are still taken seriously by some members of the Church. Anyways, this film follows two paths: the main plot of the possession of Regan, a young girl and Father Karran, a priest/psychologist who is beginning to lose his faith in the wake of his mother's death. As Regan's condition gets worse and weirder, her mother finally decides it's time to go medieval and get some priests.

To my surprise, both plots work rather well. The first obviously takes precedent, and Regan's antics keep you thirsting for more. This may seem perverse, but the film does a good job of keeping you on edge, never quite revealing exactly what you want it to, keeping little more than half obscure or omitted. The possession isn't clearly explained, the only fact that becomes evident is that indeed this was a demonic possession, but what exactly was it, where it came from, where it went and what it wanted are totally left un-answered, which is a good thing. The possession identifies itself as Satan, and if you read your bible the one thing that god and the devil have in common is that they both hate to explain anything they do. This also makes the film much more mysterious, open ended and in a sense ripe for multiple viewings. You get a sense that there is an entire world here, but we are only seeing the surface. The priest's plot, although a sub-plot still plays an important part of film. The death of his mother is used as a method to prove the possession (the demon makes constant allusions to his mother, and since Regan herself never knew that his mother died it's suspicious), but also establishes him as a complex character and more importantly a human character. Whenever there is a character that plays a social role, cop, priest etc. It's important to establish a life outside the uniform, or else the character remains a stereotype and we cannot relate to him/her. Father Karran's doubts, sorrow and bad habits (smoking, drinking) make him more human, more believable overall. At first, I was sure this was simply due to my catholic upbringing, my fascination with priests (I used to know a few) or the fact that respect for priests has been ingrained into my family. But Piaf, at the end of the movie exclaimed to my surprise "I liked that guy".

The dialogue is quite fluid, and quite normal. This again serves to bring us closer to the characters, just an ordinary home etc. But it also serves a sharp contrast between the extraordinary events that unfold. The casual, informal speech of the main characters is interrupted by the archaic and bizarre speech of Regan. This makes what she says simply more off putting and eerie. Let alone the fact that this little girl is speaking with the voice of at least 4 men. I believe the high quality of the dialogue is due to the fact that it was written by the same person who wrote the novel. He has a connection to the characters, has shaped them, in a sense is their god. This is by far the best written horror movie ever, which actually isn't saying much as most horror movies at complete shit. You could probably count the good horror movies on one hand. However this is better written than most films period, then and now.

The direction is something that I think is not only objectively good, but also personally refreshing. Oh, the good ol' days of the medium close shot. The film is shot at a reasonable lighting level, and isn't over lit like most films these days. Shadows, fog and darkness permeate this film, and gives the entire picture a really strange and dreamy atmosphere. The combination of subtle zooms, point of view shots and a relatively stable camera makes the film easy to watch in a sense. The camera isn't invasive, it doesn't try to be a million places at once, and it's shots are relatively longer than usually. Superimposition plays a superb part of this film, as demonic faces will seemingly float in shadows. I found the jump cuts to the re-occurring demonic face to be both terrifying and effective, my heart beat faster every time it happened. The film builds tension in a very casual way, in an every day sense. Walking through a dark corridor, isn't scary on it's own (always a bit creepy though), but because we KNOW that there is something demonic, it becomes a lot more real and significant. Sound and specifically music are great in this film, specifically for their omission. The classic theme only plays at a few key non-action moments in the film, appropriately setting the atmosphere. And to my great delight music DOESN'T build up scary parts, or even accompanies them. The images are so disturbing on their own right, and music is totally absent and it is still scary as hell. Friedkin shows us that silence can be just as scary as mood music, and it gives a film a minimalist feel to it.

To say that this film is full of philosophical insight, or any sort of a thematic ideas is a bit of a stretch. Horror films rarely bridge the gap between the immediate goal of being scary, and the more artistic idea of having some sort of meaning. The Exorcist does examine aspects of faith, doubt, the limits of science...but nothing beyond the usual cliches. Science can't explain everything, faith will be tested and having it isn't easy. The dichotomy of good vs. evil is totally played up, and even celebrated (Catholicism is based upon it). If you're looking for some sort of exploration of the themes of doubt and faith, this may simply be a cursory or a beginners area (though you should brush up on your catechism to get the full effect). However, the bottom line is that this is in the end a horror movie, and it achieves it's goal extremely well.

I can't go out without saying a few words about this film using a feminist analysis (I'm a little rusty so bear with me). The entire film forms a strong dichotomy between victim and savior, women being the victims and men being the saviors. The mother is totally helpless in the face of her daughter's illness, and besides swearing and crying a lot, the only thing she dos to help her is to request the aid of different men. All the doctors (besides the all female nurses) that examine Regan are men, the psychologist are all men and of course all the priests are men as well. The only two significant female characters are the helpless mother, and the possessed victim. I know...I know... it's the 70s, and there weren't a lot of female doctors back then and yes I know that women were and are not allowed to be priest in the church. It would indeed bet unrealistic to portray the events as different. However, there is something deeper here. Women in Christian mythology are either victims (Eve as a victim of the serpent's deception, then of God's wraith) or evil (Eve is the reason for the fall of man). Men are seen as either the righteous saviors, all the prophets are men, all the disciples were men etc. The only women were saved by a a male presence. Mary in order to give birth a pure child could not have sex, so a male god gave her a child, saved her from the evils of sex. Mary Madolin (I don't know how to spell her name) was a prostitute saved by christ to become a follower (not a disciple, although she did almost the exact same things as them). I don't think it's random that a little girl was chosen to be possessed, and it's even more significant that two males have to save her by shouting the power of Christ compels you (quite catchy actually). Again, it makes sense. Exorcism (the Christian kind, I'm excluding both the Jewish and Orthodox ones. And I say nothing of polytheistic exorcism) is seen as a catholic thing, and if you're going to make a movie about one of their rituals, you better get all the mythologies right. Although it's understandable, it isn't justifiable. The only time female sexuality is presented in the film is the incestuous and violent acts of the possessed Regan.

All and all, this is a movie that everyone should see. It's so much a part of our culture that one can scarcely go through an TV show series without having some sort of reference to it's more famous scenes. If you haven't seen it, wait until Halloween, rent it and turn down the lights.