Sunday, August 3, 2014

Vital Viewing: Don't Look Now (1973)

Don't Look Now  comes to us by short story, written by Daphne du Maurier (Rebecca). And though a lot of short stories don't seem adequate enough to elaborate on with a feature film, Don't Look Now is a near-perfect example of adapting a story from the written word and making it your own. 

John Baxter (Donald Sutherland) and his wife Laura (Julie Christie) are on a working vacation in Venice, where John is overseeing the restoration of an old church after a tragic accident at their English home resulted in the drowning loss of their only daughter, Christine.  While it seems like the perfect distraction to keep their minds off their sorrows, their trip ends up only causing them more grief. 

When John and Laura meet for dinner at a restaurant, Laura meets a pair of sisters, Heather (Hilary Mason) and Wendy (Clelia Matania) in the rest room.  Heather is blind, yet claims to have second sight, and tells Laura that her daughter is essentially watching over her and John.  Laura is perplexed at first, even a bit dazed- and in fact is so overcome with emotion that when she returns to the table she passes out (in what is perhaps the best fainting over a table full of food and drink that I have ever witnessed!)  She is rushed to the hospital, where she is soon feeling quite well.  When John is set to take her home, Laura attempts to convince him that their daughter is "among them".  She explains that Heather knew details about Christine, and was able to describe her so vividly that there's no way she couldn't be close by.

John is nothing if not a reasonable, sensible man.  He dismisses the sisters, warning Laura that it is just a scam of some sort. Though Laura's mood - previously rather despondent - has done a complete 180 after her encounter with the sisters, he's even less convinced of Heather's other-worldly powers after a second run-in with the women has Laura claiming that they have warned her that his life is in danger. She pleads with John to come visit the sisters with her, that Heather is going to try to contact Christine on the other side.

Furious, John refuses to hear any more about it, and though angry at first, he quickly warms to Laura's charms when the two retire to the bedroom.  In one of the more controversial sex scenes in horror (or in film in general, for that matter), the couple engages in some pretty graphic (at least for the time) intercourse, which is beautifully filmed and interspersed with scenes of them getting ready for dinner that evening. 

Julie Christie is one sexy woman, and looks fabulous throughout the entire film.  Every stitch of clothing she puts on looks tailor-made for her and despite the early 70's trends, she looks very in-vogue even today. Her engaging smile is both sexy and friendly, and is well-used here despite the morose themes.  Donald Sutherland, well.... he's DONALD SUTHERLAND. What's not to like?

I digress...

On the way to dinner, John and Laura become disoriented traveling the dark streets of Venice. They end up separated, and it's here where we realize this is really John's story, not the couple's.  He wanders the streets, looking for Laura, when he sees a young girl in a red slicker - just like the one Christine was wearing upon her death. He's unable to catch up with the girl, and finally makes his way back to Laura. It won't be the first time he sees the slicker, nor the first time he gets lost roaming through Venice. It's part of what gives this film an unsettling appeal.  For we are nothing if not terrified when we are lost in a strange place.

Venice itself is an important character in Don't Look Now.  Its watery streets and ancient architecture lend a solemn and even forboding feel to the film.  Being lost in the presence of such archaic buildings and gondola-ridden waterways would give anyone pause, but the way the city is used to such confusing effect gives it an all-too sinister feel.

There are a few key themes that will resonate with audiences here. Surely directors such as M. Night Shyamalan and even Steven Spielberg were influenced by the trigger use of red within their respective films The Sixth Sense and Schindler's List.  In Don't Look Now, we're shown the color in crucial moments - among them the color of Christine's slicker, the ball she was playing with when she died, the red-cloaked individual John sees several times, and the "blood" on the slides of the church John is working on.  Water weighs heavily in influence here as well, with the daughter drowning and then John and Laura ending up in Venice of all places - a city surrounded by and within water. 

Don't Look Now is an amazing piece of film-making that has achieved a high standard and classic status for a reason.  It's just that excellent.  It's not a feel-good film, as the recurring theme of death is ever-present, but it is such a well-acted example of grief, mourning, and the inability to move on that it pulls you into its lair of deception and forces you to enjoy it despite any misgivings.  There are parts of the film where people are speaking in Italian, but you are given no subtitles to help you decipher the words. You are left to your own devices to make your own conclusions, which brings about a confusion and disorientation that mirrors that of John and Laura throughout the two hour running time.
I can't stress enough what a great movie this is - and it's on Netflix Instant Watch AND Amazon Prime Instant Video right now - so what are you waiting for? 

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Dark Arts: Joshua Hoffine

"Keyhole"
~by Marie Robinson

Joshua Hoffine, a fellow Midwesterner like myself, is a horror photographer who describes his photographs as “small movies”. They are packed with visual splendor, with no detail going unnoticed by the artist.

His work exists in the realm of childhood fears and nightmares, where innocence is threatened by boogeymen, witches, and psychos. They lurk in all the familiar places—the basement, the bathroom, and, oh yes, under the bed. An extra layer of intimacy is added to Hoffine’s artwork once you discover that nearly all of his sets are cleverly handcrafted and shot in his own home, and that his own daughters are often the subjects of his ghoulish visions.

He had been featured in countless newspapers and magazines and appears most recently in the latest issue of Fangoria discussing his latest project: Monster Prom. Thanks to a successful Kickstarter page, Hoffine will soon be completing his first short film entitled, “Black Lullaby”, which stars his daughter, Chloe, as a little girl who comes face to face with the boogeyman.

Below are just a few windows into his wonderfully unhinged worlds. You can view more at his website, here.


"Babysitter"

"Basement"  



"Bedside"

Friday, July 18, 2014

ROOTS OF HORROR: The Death Coach And Other Spectral Vehicles

~by Marie Robinson

Imagine you are driving alone late at night on a one-lane, backwoods road. Your headlights graze the trees that hug close to the road, the hum of your tires drones softly under music or talk radio. The monotony of the seemingly endless unraveling road sets your mind to daydream—but your thoughts are interrupted by the twin points of headlights in your rear-view mirror. The car must have just crested some hill, or rounded some turn, because this is the first time you’ve seen anyone else on the road tonight. The car is traveling at an alarming speed, and as they slow down to pull up beside you see it is a strange black car. The window begins to roll down…

If you are unfamiliar with any legends concerning sinister automobiles, then I am here to inform you. They come in several different forms, each one as unsettling as the last.

The Death Coach 

The Death Coach has its strongest roots in Ireland, where it is called the Cóiste Bodhar (koe-shta bower), which translates to “deaf coach” or “silent coach”. The Cóiste Bodhar is a death omen and to see it or hear it means that someone is going to die. The Irish version of the Death Coach is quite sinister looking and is often decorated with candles and human remains.

Even more frightening than the wagon itself is its driver, a fairy called a dullahan. His head, which is carried under one arm, has small, flicking black eyes and a wide, ear-to-ear grin. He carries a whip made from a human spine. If you hear the dullahan call out a name, it is sure that the owner is the next to die. While the Cóiste Bodhar can go through any locked gate, the dullahan is terrified of gold, and having any near will send them away. The Cóiste Bodhar makes an appearance in the 1959 Disney film (a childhood favorite of mine) Darby O’Gill and the Little People.

The revolutionary Swedish special effects film, The Phantom Carriage (1921), concerns a similar legend. In the film, the last person to die before the clock strikes twelve on New Years Eve must take the seat at the front of the Death Coach and collect souls of the dead for the next year.

In Robert W. Chamber’s iconic short story, “The Yellow Sign”, the Death Coach comes through an ominous dream, whose driver is a man with pale, puffy flesh, who reminds the narrator of a, “plump, white grave-worm.”

I, too, have taken inspiration from the legend of the Death Coach, and have written of it in my story, “Crossroad”, published in the 4th issue of Sanitarium Magazine.

The Hearse 

“Don’t you ever laugh as the hearse goes by, for you may be the next to die,” sings “The Hearse Song” as documented in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.  If hearses weren’t ominous enough for you, there are several superstitions attached to the corpse-carrying cars. For example, it is bad luck if a hearse stops in front of someone’s house, as it is a sign that an occupant will soon die; even the sight of a hearse is a possible omen, especially if it is empty, for it means that it is looking to be filled.

The song I aforementioned dates back to World War I, sung by American and British soldiers and popularized as a children’s rhyme. Also frequently called, “The Worms Crawl In, The Worms Crawl Out”, several different versions have been documented—below I’ve written the lyrics to just one.

“Don’t you ever laugh as the hearse goes by,
For you may be the next one to die.
They wrap you in a big white sheet
From your head down to your feet.
They put you in a big black box
And cover you up with dirt and rocks.
All goes well for about a week,
Until your coffin begins to leak.
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The worms play pinochle on your scalp,
They eat your eyes, they eat your nose,
They eat the jelly between your toes.
A big green worm with rolling eyes
Crawls in your stomach and out your sides.
Your stomach turns a slimy green,
And pus pours out like whipping cream.
You’ll spread it on a slice of bread,
And this is what you eat when you are dead.” 

The Black Volga 

One of my favorite urban legends is that of the Black Volga. This tale became popular in the 60’s in Eastern European; the car, a black Volga, is said to kidnap children and use them for gruesome black market trades. The car of legend has had a myriad of drivers such as nuns, vampires, or the very Devil. Sometimes the car will be driven by no one at all, startling those in the car alongside it so badly that they will swerve off the road.

Author Joe R. Lansdale penned a story called, “The Folding Man” for the urban legend-inspired anthology, Haunted Legends (you can read my review of the book, here.)  His tale, inspired by the legend of the Black Volga, involves a group of teens being tormented on Halloween by a car full of nuns.

The doomful black car also plays a key role in the 2003 film, Dead End, in which a family takes a back road in an attempt of avoiding traffic and find themselves in an evil, haunted place where the only other car is the Black Volga, coming to claim its victims.

So the next time you are on that lonely stretch of road and see another pair of headlights, beware the Black Volga.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014