Apt Pupil: The Darkness Within

Nothing I have ever seen has ever affected or scared me as much as when I saw my first Holocaust pictures.  I was probably in the eighth or ninth grade and was sitting in a library doing research for a WWII term paper.  I wonder if those books are even still in libraries today, because they are such a powerful reminder that the world sucks sometimes. You don't need to see The Exorcist to get your fix of pure evil, it exists in our history. Hell, it still exists today.  But without a doubt, the Holocaust has to be the greatest tragedy in all of mankind.

I was both enthralled and aghast at the atrocities that were inflicted by the Nazis during their "Final Solution". One cannot look away, when shown pictures of such heinous crimes. Men, women, and children, murdered simply because they were a certain religion or because they looked and lived differently than the almighty Hitler did. 
But like I said, it is so interesting - so compelling - that I had to learn more.

Todd Bowden (Brad Renfro) wanted to learn more too.  But I suspect his desire for knowledge was a slight bit more demented than my own.  While I was intrigued because I simply cannot believe it was allowed to happen, Todd was a little more interested in the logistics of it all.  The hows, not the whys. 

Apt Pupil (1998) is a film based on a Stephen King novella of the same name, from his book Different Seasons (which also produced The Body {basis for the film Stand By Me} and Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption, and I'm pretty sure you can figure out the film it inspired).  The plot of Apt Pupil is tampered with a bit in the film version, cutting out a greater portion of the violence in favor of a more psychological feel to the film. But it is still a powerful piece of film making, one of the best King adaptations that is also probably one of the most forgotten.

Todd's class at school is studying the Holocaust, prompting him to seek further information at the library.  He becomes genuinely obsessed with Hilter and his systematic disposal of the Jewish population in WWII.  When he discovers that his neighbor, Arthur Denker, is really a Nazi war criminal evading justice, he takes it upon himself to meet the man and threaten him.  He explains that he knows just who he is, and that he will turn him over to the authorities in a snap if the older gentleman doesn't agree to his wishes. 

Unfortunately, Todd's wishes lean a bit more towards the unbalanced side of his psyche.  He is desperate to know just what vile and despicable things Denker has done.  He persuades Denker (who is really Kurt Dussander, Nazi Obersturmbannführer - a rank just below Hitler himself) to tell him ghastly tales of what it was like to exterminate hundreds - no, thousands - of human beings, be it by shooting them in the head, starving them to death, or in the gas chambers. At first, Denker is reluctant to describe his dreadful and reprehensible crimes, but after a bit of prompting (and blackmail), he becomes as engrossing a storyteller as Todd is enthusiast. Perhaps Denker is starting to enjoy enlightening his "pupil".

Todd begins to have bad dreams - including day-time visions - seeing emaciated Jews in the showers with him at school and the likes.  Denker doesn't hold anything back, describing in great detail what it was like at the camps, and in an especially tense moment he recalls when the gas chamber didn't work - and how the victims had seizures and stumbled around until they eventually died when the Nazi officers had to shoot them in the head. It's a disturbing piece of storytelling on film, made all the more real when you consider things like that actually happened.  How could we have let things go this far? How could it have went down in the first place? It boggles the mind.

Going one step too far, Todd buys Denker an SS uniform for Christmas, and demands he put it on.  In probably the most chilling moment of the film - one that had me on the edge of my seat - Denker comes down the steps and into the kitchen in full dress uniform, and casts a terrifying visage.  When Todd makes him put on his cap and then start to march, he is in for more than her bargained for when Denker once again becomes Dussander, caught up in a moment in time.  He begins to march faster and faster, and even when Todd tells him to stop, Denker continues until ending abruptlym raising his right arm in a heil Hitler salute.
Disturbing, to say the least.

Events escalate from there, with Denker reverting back to his Nazi mindset, making sure no one from the neighborhood cats to the bum stealing liquor bottles out of his trash is safe.  Todd, having made a mess of his academic career by spending so much time hearing Denker's tales of horror, sees his grades slip low enough that he receives deficiency notices from his teachers and is called in to the guidance office.  But who should he see talking to Mr. French (David Schwimmer)?  His "grandfather", Victor Bowden, who also happens to be the same former SS officer hiding out in the palm trees of So Cal and making an indelible impression on a teenage boy.

The ruse comes to a head when Denker reveals to Todd that he has a letter in a safety deposit box that details all of Todd's knowledge of Denker's Nazi involvement and crimes.  He states he had to do it to make sure Todd wouldn't turn him in to the authorities.  Todd has maintained all along that he had the same kind of letter in his possession as well as fingerprints and other telling methods that would send Denker to prison for the rest of his life.  So because the two have each other cornered, they resign themselves to keeping quiet.
But as is usually the case, lies eventually unravel and come back to bite you in the ass. And that is exactly what happens.

Many Stephen King adaptions are crap, that's just common knowledge.  But for every Maximum Overdrive, there is a Misery; for every Dreamcatcher, a Shawshank Redemption.  His work has been hit or miss, and though Apt Pupil may be a less popular and less recognized film, I believe that on the strength of the acting of the two main characters, it is a worthy addition to the list of decent King adaptations. If anything, it is a stark reminder of the horrors of years gone by: one of the darkest and most shameful times in history.

Vital Viewing: The Wicker Man (1973)

The Wicker Man is a stand-out classic of cult proportions - one that every horror fan should see, regardless of the fact that it plays as a strange and unconventional mystery throughout most of the film up until its startling ending. 

Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward) has come to a small off-shore island from mainland Scotland to look into the disappearance of one Rowan Morrison.  What he finds when he gets there is a full-on Pagan community that takes their beliefs quite seriously and are not afraid to show it.  Naked women dancing around Stonehenge-type monuments, young men dancing around maypoles, Christopher Lee dancing in a parade of heathen sacrifice.  Everybody's dancing! 

Locals are quick to dismiss the young girl's disappearance, claiming she never even existed.  He starts his search at The Green Man Inn, where he is introduced to the landlord's daughter, Willow (Britt Eckland).  Rooming at the tavern, he is tempted beyond belief when Willow uses all her feminine wiles (albeit in an adjoining room) to tease him into joining her for a little romp.  Writhing naked to sensual music and thrashing herself against the walls and doors, Willow sings a fertility song designed to make Howie forget about his girlfriend back home and his (!) virginity.  How he keeps his chastity is anyone's guess.

As he continues his exploration of the town, no one is fessing up to having knowledge of young Rowan.  He checks the post office, school, library, even the chemist's shop; but no Rowan.

Sgt. Howie is aghast at the blatant religious disregard in the isolated island town that has apparently never embraced Christianity and prefers to spend its days growing apples and having sex (and why the hell not?!).  And when they are not actually procreating, they are discussing the act - even the school children are taking lessons in 'celtic' sex-ed.  Besides all the sex, some of the other unorthodox rituals he is witness to tend to lean towards the bizarre - like when he sees a woman making a young child put a toad in her mouth to rid her of a throat infection, among other things.

After discovering a grave marker in the local cemetery that bears Rowan's name, and because the townsfolk are unwilling to admit Rowan ever existed (even the girl's own mother denies her!) and keep rambling on about their gods and their religion, Howie seeks out their enigmatic leader, Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee).  At once a charismatic and charming man, he tries to lay Howie's fears to rest and ends up taking him on a tour of the island, explaining to him the foundation of their Pagan religion and revealing that they believe that the gods of old shine on them and their orchards and fields because they worship them and offer them sacrifices to ensure this happens.  Of course Lord Summerisle assures Sgt. Howie that the sacrifices are of the animal variety, and only when necessary. 

Howie doesn't seem too sure of this or anything else after witnessing naked women performing some kind of peculiar ritual, young boys singing songs about "planting their seeds", school girls discussing how the maypole is a phallic symbol, and a night-time orgy that sends a sweating and turned-on Howie back to his room at the inn to try to recover.

He concedes defeat and tells himself he has no choice but to leave in the morning, to get as far away from the sacrilegious bunch of nut jobs as he can.  Unfortunately, morning brings a plane that won't start and Howie determined to at last find young Rowan, as he has a sneaking suspicion that she has been tucked away in hiding somewhere to be used as the sacrifice during the May Day celebration that day.  The inn has photos of each yearly celebration, but the most recent picture is missing.  When Howie sneaks around searching, he does indeed find the absent photo, which shows a young girl (Rowan?) in front of failing crops and orchards.

Certain that Rowan is still alive, he accosts the innkeeper and steals his May Day costume, resolute in his decision to stop the sacrifice of the child.  He joins in the ensuing parade (led by Lord Summerisle in a creepy black wig and snazzy yellow turtleneck) and proceeds to the shoreline where the grim festivities are culminating. Because this movie really needs and deserves to be seen, I can't disclose the finale, except to say it hits you like a ton of bricks. 


The Wicker Man is not your typical horror movie.  In fact I'm really not sure there is any blood at all.  But it gets under your skin like no film I have ever seen.  While in some places it can seem almost comical, there is an underlying sense of doom that permeates throughout.  It is a fascinating and mostly true look at the Pagan lifestyle (sans sacrifices of course).  The film is highlighted by several traditional folk tunes and original songs by Paul Giovanni which add to the mystery and enchantment of the Pagan society.

I think people that don't like this film don't really get what the filmmakers were striving for.  Regardless of how religious you may or may not be, for most people it is an intriguing thought (no matter how lewd or nefarious it may seem) to be utterly devoid of morality and just do what you feel.  Modern Christianity and the other religions of the world demand that we conform to the standard views and doctrines that are set before us. To imagine frolicking in the woods naked or teaching our children about the birds and bees in classrooms seems unthinkable, let alone having orgies or worrying more about the apple harvest than your tax return. As a society, most people are way too judgmental and far too ethical to allow themselves to be that capricious.

What The Wicker Man does is present us with a premise that seems like a simple missing person's case, but in actuality it is a much darker film.  The impending May Day celebration gives Summerisle a hint of jubilation, a sense of 'all is right with the world'. Alas, we soon find out it is not. There are more malevolent forces at work here - an occult underbelly of aberrant life-styles and eccentric beliefs.
The best way to see The Wicker Man is to come into it completely unprepared and with no prior knowledge of the film. It will make the biggest impact this way, and I recommend it wholeheartedly.

*Do not read the comments section if you haven't seen the film, there are spoilers...

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Splintered

Absentia

Retreat

We Are What We Are

The Dead

*Men who make my heart pound: Fifteen of my favorite male horror performances

John Amplas in Martin – Not your typical vampire, Martin (Amplas) is an unsure, faltering, nerdy kind of anti-hero who uses syringes and razor blades to procure the blood he needs.  As one of the undead, he shuffles aimlessly about the wasted streets of Braddock, wondering aloud who should be next. Amplas is so unintentionally subdued here, like he could be the neighbor next door.  If you didn’t know it first hand, you’d never suspect him of a thing.  Which of course, is the entire point.  An unnerving representation of irrational behavior – or is it?  Because we’re never really privy to the truth, we draw our own conclusions of whether Martin is truly a ‘nosferatu’ as his family insists on labeling him constantly – or just a sad, depressed man who’s made a unique and disturbing world for himself that only he can belong to.  The ending speaks for itself, as does Amplas’s acting.

Griffin Dunne in An American Werewolf in London – Most people look at David Naughton as the hero in John Landis’s classic tale of what not to do while traveling in Europe. But I am quite fond of Jack, played by Griffin Dunne. Essentially the comedic relief in the film, Jack is almost immediately compromised by an unfortunate werewolf bite, but his humorous appearances throughout the movie in various stages of decomp are one of the main reasons to check this one out.  And hey, he was the cute one.

Mickey Rourke in Angel Heart - The first time I saw Angel Heart I was blown away. Fresh off his controversial hit 9 1/2 Weeks, I was rather obsessed with Mickey Rourke (yeah, back when he had a face). The story is based on ‘Falling Angel‘, a book by William Hjortsberg, and while this is one time when I saw the movie first, I can’t imagine a better Harry Angel than Rourke. In a period film that takes place in the mid-fifties, Rourke exudes seediness as a somewhat corrupt private detective, and is no more perverse than when he starts a sordid affair with a girl half his age who turns out to be more than she lets on. He’s really spot-on with his character development and though you’re really rooting for Harry to uncover the truth, there’s a part of you that just knows it’s not going to end well.

George C. Scott in The Changeling- Let’s face it, pretty much everything Scott does sounds over the top, with his gruff voice and his penchant for getting louder and louder as the tension climbs. But despite being seemingly too old to be the father figure in this film (grandfather seems more appropriate), he really plays frightened well. As a man who is recovering from the shocking death of his wife and child, he moves into a sprawling estate that has dealt with a few deaths of its own. Scott takes care with the role, never letting John Russell seem too sissified or gullible.   His determination to get to the bottom of the mystery keeps the film rolling on to its satisfying conclusion. This is a man who never gives up, and we wouldn’t want him to.

Bruce Campbell in Evil Dead II – Of course I could have mentioned the first Evil Dead, but truly to me, Campbell’s work in the second one is pure genius. The physical comedy aspect of the film, with Ash falling all over the place, punching himself out while fighting with his own hand…can we really say that isn’t just fantastic stuff?  Billed as a sequel but really more of a re-vamp, Evil Dead II showcases Campbell’s knack for hilariously exaggerated faces of gloom and doom and his talent at carrying an entire movie. The chainsaw-for-an-arm scene where he simply says: “Groovy” – classic. I love him unconditionally, and to me he’d be my number one nerd freak-out if I’d ever meet him in person.

Keith Gordon in Christine – I’m not sure a lot of people would mention this name on a list like this. More likely to be forgotten, Keith Gordon shines in his role as a textbook nerd, complete with taped up eyeglasses and bad hair.  He spies a 1958 Plymouth Fury in the front yard of an old geezer and buys that classic up. The near-schizophrenic transformation he goes through as Christine affirms her influence over him is startling. When he becomes so intensely obsessed with the car that his girlfriend nearly dies and his best friend has to reluctantly intervene, you can see all the degrees of madness materializing right before your eyes. It’s terrifyingly well played.

The men of JAWS – Yeah, I know. This is cheating. But when I tried to separate the performances of the three male leads in my favorite movie, I found it just couldn’t be done. Each one does such an impressive job, from Quint (Robert Shaw) as the crotchety old sailor to Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) as the scientist who knows what they face, to Brody (Roy Scheider), a man fearful of the water yet heroic in the paramount moment of the film. It’s just too hard to decide between them. Though my love of Quint’s Indianapolis speech definitely gives him the upper hand, all three actors were superb. Besides Shaw’s shining moment, I give kudos to Dreyfuss when he’s examining the body of the first victim (“Do not smoke in here!”) and to Scheider for his tender moment with his onscreen son (“Give us a kiss”). Good, no…great stuff.

Vincent Price in The Last Man on Earth – Talk about carrying a film. Vincent Price did just that back in 1964 when he played a man on the edge, seemingly alone in the world after a plague of epic proportions has turned everyone into vampires. Every day he sharpens new stakes and wanders the streets, finding undead to dispose of. His melancholy shows through though, and his desperation for contact with any living being (even the dog he finds) renders him nearly mad. The first time I saw this I was quite young and impressionable, and it caused me to have a life-long love of all things Price.  It’s really not to be missed.

Duane Jones in Night of the Living Dead (1968) – By now I think everyone realizes what a statement it was when George Romero selected an African-American as his lead in the zombie classic, so I’m going to set that aside and just proclaim Jones’ performance in this movie as certainly one of the best in horror. While dealing with a nervous wreck of a temporary house-mate, he takes charge of the situation at hand and makes formidable, well thought-out decisions in the wake of the bizarre events that are unfolding. I love Jones in this, portraying the cool, level-headed protagonist seemed as easy as breathing for him.  And just when you think he’s going to make it through as our ‘final guy’….

Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs - I’m sure many have heard that this movie was partially filmed right here in my tiny hometown, so of course I was bound to like it just on that justification. But to witness such a tour de force depiction of Hannibal Lecter was simply put, entertaining.  Anthony Hopkins, while only on screen a mere 15 minutes or so, strikes fear into the hearts of even the most seasoned horror fan. The scene with the fava beans is most recognized and quoted, but my favorite scene is when Jodie Foster finally gives up the goods and tells Lecter about her ruined childhood and that damn lamb. His gentle prodding scored him the confession, and the look of sheer ecstasy on his face speaks volumes. Stellar.

Kevin Bacon in Stir of Echoes - Just because this film got pushed into the shadows of the mighty juggernaut that was The Sixth Sense, Kevin Bacon’s performance shouldn’t. I’ve always liked Bacon, and this film is certainly proof positive that the man has acting chops.  I love that he gets so involved in the mystery that he digs up his entire backyard and then trashes his (rental) kitchen by digging a massive hole right through into the basement and beyond with power tools, including a jackhammer.  He is so believable in the role that he sends shivers down my spine due to his palpable fear.  Chronic insomnia, psychic visions, and a ghost who’s commanding his every move make for a tense, obsessive portrayal of a man who just very well could be descending into madness.

Jack Nicholson in The Shining – I’d get about a thousand protests (maybe more) if I left this man off my list. Again I say, these are men whose performances just blew me away – not necessarily everyone else. But I doubt anyone would disagree with my inclusion of Jack here. While Stephen King states that Kubrick messed his book all up with Jack’s bombastic acting, I say it’s a classic that stands by itself, with Nicholson creating one of the most celebrated characters in horror. There’s really not much that can be added to the immense amount of accolades Nicholson has gotten over the years for his portrayal of Jack Torrance, so I won’t even try.  But the moment when he is staring down at the miniature hedge maze – that look in his eyes? Chilling. And perfect.

George Clooney in From Dusk Till Dawn – Can I just say I love Clooney in this role? Yes, Tarantino and Keitel are good, but Clooney is great.  At first you think Seth (Clooney) just a thug, but it’s not long till you see his feelings run a bit deeper than that.  His love for his brother Richie (Tarantino) causes him both confusion (at seeing what he did to the female hostage) and pain (when Richie succumbs to the beautiful Salma Hayek).  And he does indeed, turn out to be the good guy when he simply hands Juliet Lewis a wad of cash and wishes her well, instead of corrupting not only her virginity but her life. Favorite line? “Did they look like psychos? Is that what they looked like? They were vampires. Psychos do not explode when sunlight hits them, I don’t give a fuck how crazy they are!”

Johnny Depp in Sweeney Todd – For those of you who don’t know me well, I’m telling you now, Johnny Depp is by and far my favorite actor, ever. I love his choices, and he has always been known to head to the dark side as a frequent contributor. I fancy just about any of his roles in the horror genre (yes, even The Ninth Gate, which I think is underrated) but Sweeney Todd was quite frankly, divine. His cold attitude, vengeful deeds, and apathetic moods all make for a splendid display of indifference and murderous intent.   His nonchalant attitude about the deaths of the townspeople by his hand is at once chilling, but near-comedic at the same time.  Oh, and his singing wasn’t too bad either.

Anthony Perkins in Psycho and Psycho II - As expected, Norman Bates is of course on my list. He will always be my first true love, climbing the ladder of my heart and hanging off the top rung precariously. It’s well known that Perkins was unable to escape Norman’s clutches and found it hard to step out of the circle of madness fans had placed him in. Obviously, this can only mean that his display of sheer perfection as the demented mama’s boy was just too good. And it is. You know when people say things like “I can’t imagine anyone else in that role”, well – this is perhaps the biggest offender. No one but Perkins can be thought of as the sadly pathetic motel proprietor, stuffing Mother full of sawdust and ogling beautiful women through peep holes before slashing them to death. Movie antagonists have been killing people on screen for decades, but really – has anyone ever done it with such panache? I rest my case.

*Previously posted elsewhere.

Absentia: Fright Done Right

Sometimes it's hard to get your hands on a film. I've been waiting for months to see Mike Flanagan's Absentia, and when a film is independent and doesn't see a full-blown release, it's people like me who live out in the boondocks that suffer. It is times like these that I at least wish I lived a little closer to the city, in hopes that someone, somewhere will be playing some of these films at local film festivals and such.  But alas, it took me this long to see this beauty of a film.  I finally was able to rent it off Amazon, seeing as how Netflix still has it delegated to my "saved" section with no release date known. 

Absentia, or technically "in absentia", means in the absence of.  So you can quickly surmise what Death in Absentia means.  And this is what our lead character, Tricia (Courtney Bell), is dealing with as our film opens.  Her former drug-addict sister Callie (Katie Parker) has just arrived from parts unknown to help Tricia go through the motions of declaring her husband dead in absentia.  Daniel has been missing - zapped from the face of the Earth - for some seven years.  Gone. Without a trace.  A very pregnant Tricia welcomes her rehabbing sister home with welcome arms and they reminisce a bit about old times and what each has been up to before they get down to discussing laying her missing husband's memory to rest, both emotionally and legally. 

Callie takes to daily jogging, perhaps to clear her head and keep herself focused on her goals.  She is drawn to a local walking tunnel, a cement one under a highway that leads to a park.  But this is no ordinary tunnel, it's dark and creepy and full of a foreboding malice. No one in their right mind would actually choose to jog or walk through this tunnel, even in the daylight.  On one trip, Callie is startled to find a homeless man in the tunnel, and channeling her inner new-found Christianity, she talks to him - only to find him a rambling, disheveled derelict. He keeps mumbling about he fact that she can see him, and asks for a trade. Thinking he is asking for food, she promises to bring him something to eat and jogs home quickly.

Meanwhile, Tricia has been spending quality time with the detective (Dave Levine) on her missing husband's case.  She is feeling guilty, yet knows she has to declare Daniel dead and get the death certificate issued so she can get on with her life.  Once she does have intent to file the necessary paperwork, she starts having visions of Daniel.  Or are they visions?  With simple practical effects like pale face and sunken eyes, the "creepy Daniel" is downright chilling.  Just standing in a doorway, leaning over her bed, crouched behind her when she is mediating - these are the things that will keep one up at night.  It's suspenseful as hell, because Daniel just shows up - there is no obvious rhyme or reason, he just pops up to scare the crap out of you. 

Tricia begins having what she thinks are dreams about Daniel, in the strange, scary fashion as her daytime visions.  She visits a psychologist who tells her that once she has put the entire manner behind her, things will ease up and she can move on. 

But when she does just that and has herself a date with her baby daddy Detective, they are barely out the door when they see Daniel (Morgan Peter Brown) standing in the street.  Alive.

Now here's where it gets tricky, folks.  "Ta-Da!-I'm-Alive-Daniel" is pretty much an unhinged mess, taken to babbling bouts of paranoia and in obvious distress.  He starts rambling about something coming for him and being in some sort of "underworld".  Before his release at the hospital, he was also found to have animal bones partially digested in his stomach, and of course there is the question as to why he still was wearing the same clothes he disappeared in over seven years prior. 

Callie, becoming more and more anxious with both Daniel's behavior and the disconcerting tunnel, takes to hitting the magic box she hid under the bed.  Seems her addiction isn't quite behind her.  So when she is higher than a kite the night Daniel is "taken" again, the detectives on the case certainly can't depend on her story being based in reality.
She claims that something came after him, a monster.
She does her own investigation on the internet and discovers that there have been way too many disappearances in the neighborhood, going back a few hundred years. Not just people, but pets as well. Something lurks in that tunnel.  Something that has been there a lot longer than they have.

To say more would be giving too much away. What is wonderful about this film is what you don't see. After just having seen Don't Be Afraid of the Dark and having the creatures from that film thrown right at you in broad daylight, Absentia is a breath of fresh air.  It uses techniques designed to invoke fear and will have you on the edge of your seat wondering what will happen next.  It's a character driven film, exploring the relationship between Tricia and Callie first so we get a handle on how close they are.  It also has us fearing David one moment and being fearful for him the next. 
As I've said a hundred times, it is so much scarier to try and process what isn't there than for it to be blantantly exposed to us.

Last thoughts?  See this film.  It's a slow burn, but you won't be able to take your eyes off the screen. It is vastly different than any of the reprocessed rubbish that continues to be green-lighted in horror today.  You will not be disappointed.

Mindless Movie Monday: Don't Be Afraid Of The Dark (2011)

Guillermo, you did me wrong! What were you thinking?

 Don't Be Afraid of the Dark is mind-numbingly awful, I might as well say it straight out.  It's just so...bad.

To be completely fair, I can't even recall the television movie of the same name.  I may or may not have seen it, but seeing this updated version certainly didn't bring back any memories, good or bad.

With both writing and producing credits to his name, Guillermo del Toro (The Devil's Backbone, Pans Labyrinth, among others) brings us a film directed by Troy Nixey that for being R-rated, brings less scares than an especially tense episode of Glee.  Having just witnessed on the big screen the marvel that is The Woman in Black, I am well aware that a PG-13 movie can still deliver the goods, so just knowing that DBAOTD is a film made for age 17+, just seriously appalls me.  What the hell gave it an R rating?  There was very little blood, few curse words, no nudity, and definitely NO intense frights.

Another house to add to my list of horror favorites, to be sure!

Ten year old Sally (Bailee Madison) is sent by her unfeeling mother to live in Rhode Island with her architect father Alex (Guy Pearce) and his interior-designer girlfriend Kim (Katie Holmes) at Blackwood Manor, which the couple is renovating with plans to not only sell it, but to get it onto the cover of Architectural Digest and revitalize dad's career.  The house itself is a hell of a gothic beauty- not just on the outside but the inside as well, filled with beautiful mahogany staircases and molding, ageless antiques, and equipped with the requisite creepy (yet amazing) basement, which we learn as the film opens was the site of a horrific family tragedy which has of course marred the house.

Wait, is that Suri Cruise?  Nope, Bailee Madison.

Sally (who looks strikingly like a young Katie Holmes) is a rather despondent little girl.  Mom has been dumbing her down with Adderall so she doesn't have to deal with with her, leaving Sally to be a brooding, eye-shifting, neglected mess. 
When Dad puts a carousel night-light in her bedroom to help her sleep, its little tune awakens something in the long-forgotten cellar.  We hear voices coming from the old fireplace, whispers that call to Sally and make her curious enough to sneak through the house in the dead of night with a flashlight to investigate.  Believe me, she's much braver than you or I would be in the same circumstances.

They're coming to get you, Sally....

We don't have long to wait to see what it whispering to Sally, they are shown to us fairly early on in the film.  Unfortunately, the little creatures (for lack of a better word) reminded me more of the sub-humanoid stop-motion monsters in the old Full Moon Subspecies features.  In twenty years this is all the farther we've come?  They are a ridiculous cross between a rat and a gargoyle, and the CGI is as annoying as it is sub-par.  I'm just so damn sick of crappy CGI, how many times must I say it?
These little scurrying monsters cast a spooky shadow, but when they present themselves and you could pretty much kick them to the curb like a hockey puck:  NOT. SCARY.  They also put me in mind of the Compys from the second Jurassic Park movie - but of course the wee compsognathus is a much more terrifying specimen than what have here.  These little jaspers growl and snarl and make crazy faces at Sally, and the more she tells her dad about them, the loonier he thinks she is, even calling in the child psychiatrist for a chat.

Meanwhile, Sally gets blamed for shredding a few of Kim's dresses with Alex's straight razor, and after a bit of a fit, Alex tells Sally to go to her room.  Knowing that the sharp-implement-loving creatures are behind the deed, Sally draws pictures of them that Kim ends up finding.  She becomes concerned (um, hello? No kidding!) and tries to convince Alex that something is going on.  Alex is too busy with his career and hosting a dinner party for his architectural friends to be in the least bit eager to leave.  Thankfully, Kim has a heart and she and Sally grow closer, determined to convince Alex that there is indeed, something to be scared of.

Naturally, the "terror" of the creatures escalates, but I really can't get behind what they are trying to do here.  Like I said, if the creatures were in the least bit scary, I might be more inclined to enjoy the atmosphere of the awe-inspiring yet ominous house, but I almost felt stupid for watching this film.  It actually started to make me a dumber individual! 

Katie Holmes and Guy Pearce in the most fantastic basement I have ever seen!

None of the acting is that bad.  In fact, Bailee Madison was quite convincing with her fear.  Katie Holmes and Guy Pearce are fine, but just fine.  Not excellent.  But when you factor in the dreadful script, they really didn't have much to work with. 

I expected so much more when I originally heard this film was being made.  I mean, del Toro has a reputation for exemplary work, even though he seems to be rumored to have about fifty different films in the works. Like one of the lines in The Breakfast Club, "I expected more from a Varsity letterman!" 
I have a sneaking suspicion that it may have been a scarier film if they would not have shoved the creatures down our throat, giving us glances of them at every opportunity.  The lousy CGI that generally kills any film of this kind did just that here.  In a world where things that lurk in the basement are made to jump out at us and say cheese, it just falls utterly flat. I am a much bigger fan of what you can't see.

Again, I have no idea what made this an R-rated film.  There are a few moments of blood here and there, but nothing even remotely hair-raising or even macabre. It has the usual haunted house enticements:  tragic past, dark corridors, voices in the darkness, warnings from the doomed hired help, etc., but there's not really much else to say about it.  It had serious potential, and flopped terribly.  I'm assuming it is supposed to be a "monster" movie, per se, but wow. 

Seriously?

What probably didn't help my lack of enthusiasm for the movie is the fact that 1) I don't particularly like horror movies with kids in them.  I watch them, but find that even the worst of kids (i.e. Damien or Esther) fail to make me shiver, and 2) I'm not fond of tiny monsters, such as leprechauns, evil puppets or dolls, the previously mentioned subspecies, Gremlins, Chucky, etc.  I don't hate them, but they just don't do it for me. They just seem silly. (One exception to this are those ventriloquist dolls.  Anything with one of those in it will have me wetting my pants by the time the opening credits have finished!)
Worse than that even, I read somewhere the creatures in this particular basement were supposed to be fairies.  Um, really?

Also detrimental was the oh-so predictable and anti-climactic ending.  One that I saw coming a mile away. But hey, at least there was an ending.  Too bad I can't get those ninety-nine minutes back...

She Is Woman, Hear Her Roar! : Thoughts on THE WOMAN (2011)

It is with the knowledge that everyone is entitled to their opinion that I am able to write about The Woman. I realize I'm going to catch a lot of flak for this post, but I am of the mindset that this film is just a little too over-hyped.  Having seen it recently makes me pause to wonder a bit how it landed on the top of so many best-of lists for 2011.  While I will readily admit some of the acting (in particular Pollyanna McIntosh as the title character) was very good, for me there were just too many other minor faults to be fair in lumping it with a "best of" list. At least in the 'list' I concocted. No, no, no - I didn't hate it.  I didn't even dislike it.  I just didn't love it.

The Woman is well directed by Lucky McKee, a fan favorite in the horror community, having already directed some noteworthy flicks (May being one of them, Masters of Horror Sick Girl another). He had an in as far as getting the attention of the horror crowd, as most waited with bated breath for the next project he'd do.  I actually am a bigger fan of McKee's The Woods than I am any of his other stuff, and so you can already surmise by reading that that The Woman wasn't going to replace The Woods anytime soon in that respect.

Writing credits include both McKee and Jack Ketchum, one of the premier horror novelists of our time.  Brutal, provoking, and at most times crude, Ketchum has written some crazy stuff - much of which has been brought to film (including The Girl Next Door, Red, and the "prequel" to The Woman - Off Season).  He never holds back, pushing outright horror down our throats like a runaway freight train barreling into a cement wall.  While The Woman never seems that fierce, it certainly demands attention and causes distress.
It seems at first like an experiment in misogynistic terror, but it's really just a horror film disguising itself as some sort of play on morality and decency, or lack thereof.  As in: when is it going too far?

The plot of the film is simple and straightforward.  Man sees feral woman in the woods.  Man brings feral woman home and abuses her. Feral woman takes her revenge.  The end. 
Of course there is a lot more going on here, as we had to have the man in the story have a truly dysfunctional family already - he even didn't need to add a female version of Mowgli.  The man himself, Chris Cleek (played to smarmy perfection by Sean Bridgers), is a small-town yet successful lawyer who has a beautiful house in the country and likes to go hunting on the weekends and treat his family like shit 24/7.  His wife Belle (the always fantastic and intensely interesting Angela Bettis) is a meek shell of a woman.  She wants to stand up to her husband but doesn't, time and time again.  Anytime you think she might be going to grow a backbone, she shrinks back away and cowers in the corner from her husband's ignorance - and his fist.  The rest of the family breaks down like this:  Lauren Ashley Carter as Peggy - the teenage girl who probably watches teen-mom reality shows for a reason, Zach Rand as Brian - a loner teen who gets off on putting gum in girl's hairbrushes and is destined for serial killer status, and Shyla Molhusen as youngest daughter "Darlin" (yep, I can't make this shit up), who just wants everyone to get along.

When the film starts the audience sees The Woman (which is how we must label her because naturally she has no name) in her wild environment, living in a cave and living off raw meat and the likes.  Dirty from head to toe, she still managed to find some ratty clothing that covers up her nakedness, as well as somehow cutting her hair into ridiculously ugly bangs and oh yeah, LIVING IN THE WOODS OF SUBURBAN AMERICA WITHOUT ANYONE EVER SEEING HER!  Chris Cleek owns a farm, sure.  But just how isolated is it?  How is it that no one has ever noticed a feral woman at the nearby creek, spearing fish with her hands and showing off her boobs when her holey shirt just happens to fall to the side? No one ever saw her?  I'm sorry, but Mr. Cleek doesn't live that far removed from civilization.  Yes, I'm aware we're supposed to suspend belief here, and normally I don't have any problems doing just that, but this was all just a little too convenient.

And lets face it, if most people found a wild woman in the backyard they would NOT chain her up in their backyard basement, ridicule, defile, abuse, and torture her.  Most people would probably head off in the other direction, call the cops from their cell phone (in their car, mind you) and point in the general direction when the authorities gather. I repeat, most people would NOT bring the untamed oddball home.  Additionally, most folks would not practically take her top layer of skin off with a pressure washer, feed her oatmeal that was three days old and dumped on the floor, or try to pull off her nipples with a pair of pliers.  Most importantly, they would not RAPE her.  Sure, they might think about it (you sick bastards), but seriously who would ever go that far?  Who even knows where her female parts have been? ( If you're answering that yes, you would go that far, then we are no longer friends.  Head on home to your grandma's cellar where you play video games all day, eat Cheetos, and call 900 numbers for fun.)

But hang on!  The Woman is not all bad.  Actually none of it is bad, just rather dull. I have listened for months while friends of mine have raved so enthusiastically about this film, and to be honest I couldn't wait to see it.  Perhaps it was the bombastic fervor that they had for it - maybe that is why I was somewhat disappointed once I finally saw it. I just kept waiting for something utterly insane to happen.  I had to wait nearly 90 minutes!  Maybe I've just seen too many of these kinds of movies? I don't know.

That being said, I have to admit the acting among the three main leads (The Woman, Belle, and Chris) is really way above par.  As previously mentioned, Bettis is in fine form here, as usual.  As a defenseless wife and mother who is wondering just what the hell is wrong with her husband, she shines.  From day one when Chris brought home the feral woman, her indifferent attitude towards her husband's sheer madness is puzzling yet well played.  When it's obvious that she has no say in anything Chris has to say or do, we watch her slowly unravel until she has an illuminating moment of cognizance: oh yeah! My husband is fucking nuts! Not that it does her any good, mind you.

Bridgers, as Chris, is simply the most uncouth, annoying, downright disturbing man I may have ever met in film. A respected man of the community, he sets forth with intent (after witnessing the feral woman washing herself in a creek) to capture her and try to civilize her.  Man, if it were truly as easy as tying someone up in manacles to get someone to have some decorum and culture, I'd be buying them in bulk and passing them out to the public at my day-job.

Chris and Belle's three kids are a prime example of putting the fun in dysfunctional.  Peggy is an obviously depressed teenage girl who is trying to hide a big secret.  Too bad we, as the audience, can figure it out in about ten minutes, and it's really not all that shocking.  Brian is oh, fifteen-ish and at first seems like the nice, quiet type. Not so, he's just harboring a menacing case of assholishness (yes I just made that word up) that he breaks out about a third of the way though the film and he certainly doesn't look back.  He's turning into his father right in front of our eyes.  And like I said, little sister Darlin' is basically filler.  Sad but true.

But if we're talking fine acting, we're talking Pollyanna McIntosh.  As the title character, she is a wonder in the film. A force of nature!  And she really has no lines, short of a whole lot of grunts, groans, screams, and indecipherable words. And how they got her to look so damned ugly is beyond me, with her shocking facial expressions and her enraged growling, she was more frightening that anything else in that entire film and probably the last hundred films I've seen.  It reminded me a bit of Mercedes McCambridge as the voice of Pazuzu in The Exorcist.
Her cold stare into the eyes of her captor tells a story without ever saying a word.  And it's for this reason that the film does redeem itself for me, because for a greater portion of the film, not too much is happening save a shaky domestic lifestyle and an abusive couple of males threatening and man-handling all the women in their lives.

The Woman felt like several films I'd already seen, including the aforementioned The Girl Next Door (another film in which nothing happens except people poking, prodding, molesting, and torturing a woman strung up and helpless). I am trying so hard to understand why everyone thought this film was so far above everything else last year.  Slow year? 

So what was there to like besides the acting?  The ending.  It was a bloody good mess. I was disgusted by parts of the outcome, and thought the last few moments were more prosaic than poignant, but the gore was amped up and we finally got what I'd been waiting for: a bit of action.  Though I couldn't help but visualize the movie Sling Blade in my head.  It just wouldn't go away.

Regardless, I think my biggest fault with this film, though, is the music and the sound.  I'm not saying the soundtrack is utter crap.  I'm just saying its presentation is flawed.  Most times, I much prefer an actual music score, and find that in many cases when songs are substituted in lieu of background scoring that the films are the worse for it.  This film is a perfect example.  By trying to set up scenes with random indie songs blaring in the background, the film suffers because you cannot hear the dialogue that is so vital to said scene.  Films that use both a general score as well as a few songs here and there work out pretty well, if I'm being honest.  A good example of a song setting a scene is in Reservoir Dogs when Mr. Blonde cuts off that guy's ear while "Stuck in the Middle with You" plays in the background.  I also liked the use of "Freebird" in both "The Devil's Rejects" and "Forrest Gump". Two vastly different films, but the song is appropriate for both.  As a matter of fact, Forrest Gump did a great job of mixing score and song.  So did "The Craft", if I'm being honest.  But I just wasn't feeling it here. And again, it was so loud it drowned out my brain function.
Between that and those damn dogs barking,  I couldn't clear my head enough to enjoy what I was seeing.  Way. Too. Loud.
Suffice it to say the sound editing left a lot to be desired, and this thought is shared by many people I know. Some dialogue was wiped out by loud songs or barking dogs, and when you could hear people talking you had to turn up the volume, only to be blasted out when the song stopped.  Ugh. And it's not like my own sound system is lacking, believe me.  It wasn't me, it was them.
Please, next time:  a score.  Throw in some actual songs here and there, fine.  But don't be cheap.  It shows.

Yes, I know I'm in the minority here by not falling head over heels with The Woman. Perhaps a second look would garner a better opinion. But I've never been one to be a sheep and follow others off the cliff. If I'm not crazy about it, I'm going to call it like I see it.  I do recommend anyone reading this review take a look at this film though, because like I said, everyone is different.
In fact, for a great review of the film, click here.
For some great thoughts on Pollyanna McIntosh's chilling turn as "The Woman", you must read this.
And....for an insightful interview with the director, click away...

Final thought:  You may love The Woman.  But don't begrudge me because I didn't.