Friday, July 19, 2013

Only God Forgives


The focus of Nicholas Winding Refn's ONLY GOD FORGIVES is on a series of formal revenge rituals played out in a mostly nocturnal Bangkok. The use of long silences, eerie soundscapes, and formal framing create a tone that is somewhat Lynchian, at least superficially. Unfortunately, a roster of shallow characters, their personalities more hinted at than conveyed, fail to create any emotional resonance, and place the film on a ladder way below Lynch classics such as LOST HIGHWAY or MULHOLLAND DRIVE.

Ryan Gosling plays the brother of scummy cunt murdered for raping and killing a teenage girl. Conscious of the moral dilemma thoughts of revenge raise, he opts to not take any action initially. Events beyond his influence are triggered, however, when his mother (Kristin Scott Thomas), who struggles with no moral dilemma, arrives in town to do what a psychotic mother will do.



The Bangkok constabulary are represented by Vithaya Pansringarm, a sword-wielding exterminator who believes in skipping the legal process and cutting/slashing straight to harsh punishment. He becomes embroiled in a two-sided campaign of revenge engineered by Thomas's character. Strangely, Gosling is often peripheral to the primary action, because Refn (who wrote the script) seems more interested in Pansringarm's story. This decision wastes a good actor and fractures the narrative.

Tonally, ONLY GOD FORGIVES is more VALHALLA RISING than DRIVE. It boasts few narrative surprises, and takes on a sameness that sucks it dry. In a sense, the film operates in the dead zone of a man post-ejaculation. It lacks build.

Cliff Martinez, who scored DRIVE, delivers a hypnotic score that echoes the best cues from DRIVE, and embellishes with other cues that feel like extensions of Eric Serra's score for LEON (aka THE PROFESSIONAL). The photography, by BRONSON (and FEAR X) shooter Larry Smith, is luminous, often reminiscent of the grimy nighttime vistas of John Woo's BULLET IN THE HEAD (the scenes where the hopeless 'Frank' kills for a fix come to mind).


Ultimately, ONLY GOD FORGIVES is a series of violent tableaux that are loosely connected. A fight scene between Gosling and Pansringarm is extremely brutal, as are the numerous gougings and slashings by sword. At times, Refn chooses to show us dialog while denying us its precise content -- occasionally it works, but just as often it feels like a missed opportunity to enrich the character interplay. More a welcome experiment than a satisfying ninety minutes at the movies, the film's lack of contrast (all shade and no light) creates too much distance between its auteur and its audience.



By no means a dog, ONLY GOD FORGIVES still fails to make its elements gel Refn-style, while feeling too imitative of Lynch, Wong Kar Wai, and Tran Anh Hung (CYCLO) without the pay-off of those directors' best films.

A dedication card to Alejandro Jodorowsky caps proceedings, and a thank you to Gasper Noe is also offered.



Not often that a film like this opens at a cinema five minutes' walk from my place.

Nice to see this getting a decent theatrical release.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

The MANIAC Remake



Franck Khalfoun's MANIAC, a remake of the early 80's classic, has much going for it, and not nearly as much going against it.

I saw the film last night at Hollywood's ARENA CINEMA, a welcome reincarnation of the old Egyptian 2 and 3 theaters, and came out pleased for the most part. Seeing MANIAC, which was shot in LA, in a theater located smack-dab in the killer's actual stomping, cutting, and slashing ground, was a slightly surreal experience, so top marks to the ARENA, and its manager Christian, for a splendid presentation from both a picture and sound perspective. In the tradition of the nearby ARCLIGHT, Christian introduced the movie to a dozen or so apostles of pulp before leaving us to our own devices.

Thankfully, no actual devices were employed during this movie, making it one of the most enjoyable screening experiences for me in months. Whenever I visit a multiplex, the constant flicker of the cell phones of irritating, selfish jerks raises my blood pressure and turns me murderous. At the ARENA, the MANIAC devotees, like good, true horror fans, watched the actual movie (yes, it's possible!), not their cunting cell phone screens. Bravo!






William Lustig's original 'maniac', the great, one and only Joe Spinnell, is replaced here by spindly Elijah Wood, an actor popularly associated with his 'Frodo' character from LORD OF THE RINGS. Although he's done other gigs like GREEN STREET HOOLIGANS and the fine RADIO FLYER, it is his association with Frodo that dogs him, and leads people to believe that he IS the height-challenged hobbit of the popular series.



Well, I'm happy to report that Mr. Wood sheds Frodo very successfully in MANIAC as he launches a rampage of murder, dismemberment, and creative killing. While Spinnel was a gloriously large, sweaty, tragic character with a degree of warmth (recall his dinner date with Caroline Munro), Wood's 'Frank Zito' is cold, awkward, antisocial, and batshit crazy. Wood makes no attempt to ape Spinnel, which is just as well, but he makes his 'Frank Zito' (a name derived from director Joseph Zito) a memorable one, and adds several character tics into the bargain.

As has been broadcast to all and sundry, the film tells its story from Frank's POV; that means we see what Frank sees most of the time, and only see Frank when he's confronting his own image in a mirror. During several killings, the film does break from the POV gimmick (popularized in Michael Powell's PEEPING TOM) to show Frank engaged in a particularly gruesome murder, but the singular POV dominates. The approach mostly works. It doesn't work so well in protracted stalking sequences because the suspense is nullified when we know exactly where the killer is. Traditional suspense is about the victim not knowing when the killer will strike, so it's impossible for that to work when we ARE the killer. A way around this would have been to include a sequence in which Frank has the tables turned on himself and is stalked by someone he was stalking. Unfortunately, director Kalfoun doesn't try anything too out of step with the expected here.




As effective as non-stop POV can be, non-stop chatting from Frank's POV isn't so successful -- especially when that chat is poorly written. Whether Wood is addressing victims-to-be, arrogant boyfriends, or women he fancies, his dialog is juvenile, retarded, and barely at grade school level. Is this because writers Alexandra Aja and  Gregory Levasseur intended him to sound like a child, or did they just not have a solid enough grasp of the English language to do Frank justice? Whatever the case, the film's overall effectiveness is diminished by this aspect. All it would have taken to fix it is a rewrite by someone whose first language is English.

My gripes aside, which are legitimate, MANIAC will be graded on its kill scenes and its power as a gore- and suspense-fest. With an exception or two, the kill scenes are strong. We don't have to wait long for the film's first scalping, and the KNB FX team, replacing Tom Savini here, acquit themselves nicely with a terrific tendon slashing, a knife shoved up into a face from beneath, and the expected demise of the maniac himself. The subway chase sequence from Lustig's original is duplicated here, but it's less effective than in the original because its depiction of noctural LA as an empty city stretches credibility to the breaking point. Considering how thickly populated LA really is at night -- especially in the area where the killings take place -- it annoyed  me that nobody ever crossed Frank's path during his murders. In the Hollywood Boulevard world of this MANIAC, the streets and parking lots are always empty, giving young Frank plenty of opportunity to exterminate without a care in the world, but giving the audience no sense of suspense that Frank may be busted at any moment.




True to the original, Frank's sad backstory about an abusive mother who locked him in a closet and burnt him with cigarettes is still Norman Bates-like, but it's adjusted here. Now she's someone possessing the traits of Henry Lee Lucas's mother, a woman who fucked several men in front of her son and took drugs in his presence. A number of hallucination sequences depict a young Frank witnessing her sexual escapades and rampant drug use. Reasonably explicit, these sequences do their job of adding a little balance to the narrative.  Frank's apartment in this MANIAC shares the wall color (purple) and dressings (bloodied mannequins) of the originals, and the atmosphere, though not as fetid as in the original, is reasonable grimy.

Missing here is the sequence in the first film where Tom Savini's head is blown off by Spinell. There is no equivalent sequence in which a courting couple are stalked and killed Son of Sam-style.

The 'Caroline Munro' love interest in this outing is played by Nora Arnedezer. A photographer of mannequins (very convenient!), she meets Frank while photographing the window of his mannequin restoration business.  In a fantasy context, these mannequin parallels would be a quaint touch, but they don't quite gel in a film that has one foot in brutal reality. Arnedezer does her college best with wafts of shabby dialog, but her performance is hampered as a result. Her most realistic interaction with the romantically immature Frank is when she casually mentions her 'boyfriend' to him; this sets off the expected reaction.




Elevating the good and bad in MANIAC is the striking score by Phoenix's Robin Coudert. Echoing the best of John Carpenter, Tangerine Dream, and the original film's Jay Chattaway, its dark and resonant cues (soundscapes and standalone pieces) are MANIAC's soul, and the film would be a much lesser work without them.

Kudos also to cinematographer Maxime Alexandre, who does a superb job with the film's visuals and challenging blocking.


Elijah Wood is to be commended for having the balls to take on this classic character, and he rises to the challenge with a sympathetic performance, not a pathetic one. It's just a pity his hard work is handicapped by some questionable dialog choices and a couple of 'credibility crimes'.

If you can see this film in a theater, don't hesitate.

***

The ARENA THEATER (on Las Palmas off Hollywood Blvd.) is screening MANIAC daily until Thursday the 4th of July. Then, it will screen the film weekly as a late show. I love the sound of that!

Upcoming is Neil Jordan's excellent BYZANTIUM.

There are not enough theaters devoted to genre flicks of this nature. If you can, please support the ARENA THEATER. If you're not in Southern California, patronize your local version of a theater that's made for people of our ilk.

Friday, June 28, 2013

Detroit Ad Mat Massacre



When you live in Detroit and love exploitation movies, this is where the action's at.

Caught this dubious double at the NORTHGATE, my Saturday afternoon hangout in the years I spent in the Motor City. I couldn't get enough of the NORTHGATE's sticky floors, shitty projection, and unbeatable double bills. 


The first saw I saw an uncut XXX-rated flick at a theater was in Detroit. The venue was the KRIM (Woodward and 6 Mile), a sleazy dive in a sleazy part of town. That place was a trip, and I patronized it at least twice a month.  Manhattan Mistress was a solid sex flick shot on film.

Melbourne, my home town, had many adult theaters, but in my heady teen years when I was 'forced' to sneak into these churches of ill repute, all the movies had their hardcore scenes scissored. 


Great cast, pretty decent film. Caught this at the ADAMS in Downtown Detroit. 

Not sure why I didn't see it at the NORTHGATE, which was closer to where I was living at the time, but that's life.

The good stuff also played at the famous BEL AIR DRIVE-IN, another preferred haunt of mine at the time.


More KRIM excellence. It was always tricky parking in a safe place in this area. I never did get broken into,  but I often worried about it while enjoying these feasts of flesh.

Eventually, I began attending the CAPRI on Gratiot for my XXX-rated needs.


NORTHGATE for this one. Not a bad waste of time. I never liked Leon Isaac Kennedy much. Found him kind of wimpy. Still, Penitentiary II was good stuff, and I remember getting into a conversation with some black dude about what I, an Australian, was doing watching this movie at the NORTHGATE in Detroit. It was a long story.


Dallas School Girls: not so hot. Centerfold Fever: fantastic. Another fine Saturday afternoon at the KRIM.


The ONLY place to see this was the ADAMS. Saw it on its opening Friday night and loved every trashy minute. A couple weeks later, I saw it again at the NORTHGATE.  


Super hot flick starring the beautiful Kandi Barbour. According to my diary, caught this on a Wednesday night at the KRIM. Not sure what I was doing in that part of town on a Wednesday night. Looking for a pimp job? 


NORTHGATE again. How I loved that place! I remember Satan's Mistress being  plodding, but I didn't leave disappointed because The Slumber Party Massacre was decent stuff. 


Caught at the ADAMS. Tried convincing wife of the moment to join me, but she'd have none of it. Not a damn morsel. So, off I went to spend the evening with the lovely Jayne Kennedy and her husband Leon Isaac.  This Cirio D. Santiago flick is a fun actioner with Leon as a bad guy. Very good stuff.


I don't know why I still have a soft spot for John Russo's Midnight; it's a bit of mess, really, but it boasts a sleazy, nihilistic tone that always rubs me the right way. It has Larry Tierney, too. Catching it at the NORTHGATE made it ten times better, I suppose. That joint had atmosphere to spare. The audience was mostly black and they loved it. Heaps of really young kids in the audience, too. 

Naturally, I stayed for William Fruet's Funeral Home, which was OK, and licked up a second screening of Midnight. I got so much into Midnight, I even bought the LP, which was fuckin horrible "...you're all alone, you're on your own, and midnight's at your door..."  

I worked for Orion Pictures in Detroit in the '81-'83 period, and once met the guy who programmed the NORTHGATE and a basket of other hardtops . His name was Bill Brown. I struck up a pleasant conversation with Bill, and he expressed some shock that I wanted to see ANYTHING at the NORTHGATE when there were much better theaters around. I had to point out to him that it was the movies I cared about , not the theaters. Bill, a pretty conservative guy, didn't quite understand that. 

Come to think of it, the THEATERS were a consideration, especially when they were fleapits. 


Even though this rotten pile of shit played at the ADAMS and NORTHGATE, I saw it at the SHOWCASE STERLING HEIGHTS for some goddamn reason. Looking now at the venues it played at, I'm shocked, and  must conclude that somebody behind this had some major influence with the local bookers. Unbelievable that this played so many quality theaters; it even played the ABBEY, which was only a mile or two from the SHOWCASE. Today, a flick like this would be lucky to get a DVD release.

The late Gary Graver (aka Robert MacCallum) directed and produced. His porn flicks were much more interesting.


It was a toss-up between the ADAMS and the BEL AIR for this one. Like a good boy, I went with the ADAMS. 

It turned out to be a slice of badly choreographed Godfrey Ho nonsense. I drove home in a depressed state through sleet and snow and questioned the direction my life was taking.

That lasted for about six hours; I was back at the NORTHGATE for another putrid outrage a day later.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Crimson Celluloid and Aussie Zines


CRIMSON CELLULOID was a great little Aussie 'zine (from Sydney) that covered porn, Asian cinema, horror, American exploitation, and everything lurid and bloody in between.

Editors were Brett Garten, the great David Nolte (all-round genre and serial killer authority), and Ant Timpson. I knew Brett and David personally, but didn't meet Ant at the time the mag was being published because he wasn't in Sydney when I'd visit the CC boys. He went back to New Zealand, I think. I later met him and his brother at a couple of Melbourne Film Festivals.

Still, what a stellar mag from a rarefied period just before the internet changed a lot of things.

The review below of Nekromantik is by the indefatigable Michael Helms, who went on to create and edit FATAL VISIONS, the legendary Melbourne-based 'zine. I wrote a Hong Kong film column myself for FV called 'Chinatown Beat'.



Below is an early Australian review for A BETTER TOMORROW written way before almost any Westerner was writing about Woo films. 

Tony Egan, who became a solid friend of mine, wrote often for CC, and was a die-hard HK film fanatic. Tony is also a film director/writer/sharp editor. He cut my film SENSITIVE NEW AGE KILLER with MASTURBATING GUNMAN actor Robin Brennan.

Also below is a Timpson review of the Sammo Hung vehicle DEAD AND THE DEADLY.  


As noted below, other contributors to CC were Joey Inferno (aka Wally Ramborama aka Peter ?), who also went on to create his own 'zine, PSYCHO IN THE DARK. Years later, he'd open a collectible store in Melbourne, and rumor has it, the store is still going strong.

Shane Harrison contributed to FV also; and Richard Kuipers went on to produce SBS's 'The Movie Show' and edit the Australian arm of Variety.


Another interesting 'zine from Melbourne was SEPSIS. 

Consistent with its title, it focused on the grislier side of life, dishing up porn reviews, galleries of deformed Brazilian babies, and articles on flesh-eating diseases. 

The mag was also one of the first to cover the European 'Shit Lovers' series from Choc, a real company. These VHS's (pirated, of course) were even sold from a South Australian PO Box for a while.

I'd post scans if I could find my collection of SEPSIS, but I don't have the energy right now to move fifty boxes of shit. 

Another terrific Sydney-based 'zine was BETTY PAGINATED. A fantastic mag with a strong focus on porn -- although the issue below also featured a great piece on Mark 'Chopper' Reid.


Thursday, June 6, 2013

Takeshi Miike's LESSON OF THE EVIL


Takeshi Miike's LESSON OF THE EVIL, just seen fairly recently, blew me away. In many respects, this is as bonkers and audacious as ICHII THE KILLER, and throws in elements of COLD FISH, BATTLE ROYALE, ELEPHANT, AMERICAN PSYCHO,and VIDEODROME.

Simple set-up sees a teacher saddled with the task of eradicating cheating during exams at a high school. When the task proves an impossible one, he takes drastic measures. To put it lightly.

No synopsis can do justice to LESSON's parade of perversion, blackmail, bullying, bloody violence, and outright insanity.


A couple of reviews have criticized the film's pacing, a charge I don't understand at all. From frame one, Miike creates a creeping, cloying sense of tension as he deftly sketches the lives of both teachers and students, and imbues every scene with a shattering inevitability that is paid off in spades.

In light of recent school shootings and reports of increasing campus violence, the film is so utterly relevant, it will be tough going for many, if not most, viewers

Although there is harsh violence throughout, the climax depicts one of the most merciless rampages I've ever seen, and I've seen plenty. It is not a menu of 'creative killings', a fact one moronic reviewer lamented, but is shocking for its brutal banality, its relentless nihilism, its sickening force. 


Audacious and brilliant, LESSON THE EVIL is simply the best film of the year so far, and, as Miike flicks go, right up there with ICHII THE KILLER, VISITOR Q, GOZU, 13 ASSASSINS, GRAVEYARD OF HONOR, THE MAN IN A WHITE SUIT, and THE CITY OF LOST SOULS.

I fuckin loved it!


Monday, June 3, 2013

Paper Beasts On The Rampage


Not to be confused with Nick Sharman's THE CATS, this is Berton Roueche's first person account of cats gone wild on Long Island. Very brief at 126 pages, it moves at a quick clip and dishes up some vivid grue.

I've always liked the bloody-faced kitty on the cover.

Roueche's effort was the first cat novel out the gate, and though it is copyrighted 1974, the same year Herbert's THE RATS appeared in the UK,  I can't find an American copy to confirm whether it was published that year. It was first published in the UK in 1975.


Published in '79 when mad animals, insects, and reptiles were all the rage (thanks to James Herbert and Guy N. Smith), this Hamlyn paperback original focused on the building of a resort on top of a snake colony. No points for predicting some resistance from the creepy crawlies.  

A new copy of the American/Signet paperback of this book is rushing out the door for $193 this week at Amazon. 


More killer cats in D. Gunther Wilde's CLAWS (Leisure; 1978), a novel that came after  Roueche's THE CATS, but before Nick Sharman's attempt to demonize the little fluffs in the early 80's.

Quite a fun read.


If you're looking for the best in killer mantis fiction, you've hit the mother lode, old chap.

I fail to find another novel in existence that I can compare to Nace's EAT THEM ALIVE. 

As the cover blurb screams, it really is A NEW PEAK IN HORROR.

One of the best reads ever. Much better than ULYSSES.


Wonderful Guy N. Smith-style horror about a mad fungus infecting, mutating, and ugly-fying all and sundry.

Lots of funny stuff, too.

Harry Adam Knight was Aussie writer/film critic/novelist John Brosnan, who died in 2005.

The first of his non-fiction books I read was THE HORROR PEOPLE ('76), then FUTURE TENSE - THE CINEMA OF SCIENCE FICTION ('78).

THE FUNGUS is also known as DEATH SPORE.