Who’s the real ghost here? The man who rose from the grave, or the soulless man who put him there in the first place?
What better way to ring in the new year than by watching the heavily bearded faces of some of my favorite actors spew filthy invective at each other and suffer grotesque and horrifying bodily injury? None! There is no better way.
[Full Disclosure – I didn’t actually see both in the same day, but I saw them within a week of each other. I think had I really done a double feature of both I would have overdosed on ruggedness, run away to the mountains, and started some kind of feral colony. Anyway, on with the reviews! ]
Part murder-mystery, part ghost investigation, Florence delves into the house’s history as she sets up ghost-hunting equipment and observation points.
October is Horror Movie month, where we let down our hair and celebrate all things macabre and scary! Not that we don’t during the rest of the year, but still… HORROR MOVIES! People who don’t like horror are encouraged to check back November 1st for less bloody and/or disturbing films. For everyone else, let’s put on our galoshes and WADE INTO THE MIRE!
Creepy, Creaky Old Houses Week is a gear-switch from Hell Week; in Hell Week we donned our raincoats and galoshes to wade into the Hellraiser movies– bloody, fleshy, hooky, painy, S&My wonders that they are. This week is all about subtle, understated horror, with very little blood, highbrow content, and plenty of atmospherics. So put on your Edwardian nightclothes and some hard-soled shoes– we’re creeping slowly up staircases while clutching unreliable lighting sources this week!
Today’s entry will contain SPOILERS.
Today we’re taking a look at The Awakening, a 2011 horror film that must have flitted into and out of theaters right under my nose. I first saw it while scrolling through Netflix, and when I saw the cast included Dominic West (The Wire fans know him as drunken tomcat Jimmy McNulty), Isaac Hempstead-Wright (Bran from Game of Thrones! He’s so little!) and Imelda Staunton, I hit ‘play.’
Mist! Trees! Coats! Cold ankles!
If you liked The Sixth Sense, The Others, or El Orfanato, then I have good news for you– The Awakening definitely breathes the same rarefied air as those aforementioned films. It is WONDERFULLY atmospheric, full of strong performances, complex characters, beautiful settings and haunting music. The historical setting was especially immersive, and informed the story in a natural way. Although there were plenty of cliches common to period haunted house movies, the plot held just enough surprises to keep the viewer guessing.
We open on a seance, complete with old blind seer, dead animals, cobwebs, table knocks, and the whole ‘does someone here wish to speak with someone named X?’ The creepy atmosphere stretches into some nice tension but is soon shut down by hoax-hunter Florence Cathcart, who proceeds to reveal all the chicanery and machinery that the fake psychic is using to bilk people out of their money.
Bilking people out of their money by pretending to put them in touch with dead loved ones? Florence is NOT HAVING IT.
Florence is a Modern Woman in 1921 England, and like most hoax-hunters, is driven to expose psychics because she has lost someone she wishes to see again. Everyone knows how Harry Houdini dedicated his life to exposing such hucksters after his mother passed away, as the idea of people preying on the grieving infuriated him. Florence is likewise a little too overzealous in her exposure, but she is also revealed to be a woman in pain; not only did her love pass away (she keeps a locket with his picture in it) but she’s an orphan. She’s written a very famous book about her experiences exposing the supernatural and how it has convinced her that such things do not exist.
Dapper! The Waffle House waitresses of B-more wouldn’t stand a chance
Enter Dominic West as Robert Mallory, a teacher from an isolated boys’ school in the countryside. Mallory walks with a cane and a limp, and he doesn’t seem that impressed with her. He’s been sent to ask her to investigate a possible haunting at the school–a little boy died, and the children have been seeing things ever since. It’s a job she blows off until he reveals that most of the children are orphans. She changes her mind and agrees. EDIT:Upon reviewing the film last night I see that he actually strong-arms her into going after reminding her that she herself wrote about terrible it is for a child to grow up in a fearful environment, and that the children in the school are terrified. So their interaction is a little more terse than I made out – apologies!
Upon arriving, we’re introduced to Maud (Imelda Staunton) who has read Florence’s book and utterly worships her; Tom (Isaac Hempstead-Wright), one of the little boys who lives at the school year-round; Judd, the weirdo groundskeeper, and some other staff and students. Naturally, weird things begin happening, and Florence’s disbelief in the paranormal is sorely tested.
Pictured: A Terrible Way to Meet Men
Part murder-mystery, part ghost investigation, Florence delves into the house’s history as she sets up ghost-hunting equipment and observation points. I really liked the background on this, that Florence had designed many of the machines herself. She’s such a fully realized and well-written character, it’s hard to believe she wasn’t based on a real person from history.
The Awakening contains a deeply emotional story at its heart. I found the slow emergence of Florence’s unhappy and traumatic childhood to be gripping and incredibly sad, due to Rebecca Hall’s performance. Hempstead-Wright was compelling as Tom, a resident at the school. He has a great range and his understated looks of puzzled disappointment at Florence as he waits for her to recognize him from her past were spot-on. His character’s backstory was so sad and tragic, it was all but impossible not to feel for him, but Hempstead-Wright doesn’t do schmaltz and Tom is an infinitely like-able little boy. Likewise, West’s performance as a Great War veteran suffering from PTSD was stirring, especially as you realize he and Florence are both people literally and figuratively haunted by their own pasts.
I also really, really appreciated the ending being a happy one. There’s just too many movies about women with mental problems offing themselves these days! Still, there were a lot of the present crop of atmospheric horror cliches – folks haunted by the past and such, strange shapes flitting past in the background. I thought one of the most effective scares was the doll house moment… YOU know the one!
Nightcrawler is an absolutely brilliant film. It’s a modern noir take on a generation raised by journalism and the internet without being preachy, and I can’t recommend it highly enough for fans of dark humor and incisive social commentary. Since they are both about sociopaths, it inevitably draws comparisons with films like Taxi Driver and American Psycho, with good reason.
HEY WANNA GO FOR A RIDE?
[SOME SPOILERS!]
Nightcrawler surprised me. I had read the reviews on a few sites and knew it was good, but it also looked like the kind of dark thing I’ve been trying to avoid lately. A veteran of some pretty weird and extreme cinema, I wasn’t interested in spending 90 minutes with a Jake Gyllenhaal who keeps dead babies in his freezer or something. I barely leave the house as it is.
But as I said, it surprised me. For one thing, although it explores the pathology of sociopaths, it wasn’t as violent as I thought it would be. Gyllenhaal’s character of Lou Bloom is certainly a dangerous person, incapable of empathizing and soon begins leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, but the movie is almost like an origin story for a serial killer who hasn’t quite gotten started yet. Instead, it posits something even scarier – not a killer who hunts and pursues prey, but an opportunistic predator a little lower down on the food chain. Bloom is the kind of predator who has the patience to cultivate relationships and then strike when people are at their most vulnerable. In the Wiki entry, the filmmakers said that they were trying to characterize Bloom as a jackal, and I think they really succeeded. Some opportunistic predators are the last thing prey sees before they die, just as happens in the story.
The story is thin but more than balanced by the brilliant characterizations and performances. As mentioned, Gyllenhaal plays Bloom, a sociopathic autodidact who aggregates data like an algorithm, a metaphor fitting for the internet age without being overbearing. Just like Gmail doesn’t understand the context of some of the weirder terms in my personal emails (true story: years ago in my Google ads sidebar an ad for a white supremacist website came up because I was lamenting the existence of neo-nazis- No Gmail, that was wrong) Bloom fails to understand meaning or context. A junk metal scrapper and small-time thief, he wanders across the path of some freelance videographers and scents opportunity. Soon he’s haunting the police radio band and rushing to the scenes of crimes, sometimes before the first responders themselves arrive (another horrifying point, how late the cops sometimes are to the party) and capturing all the gory details with no concern for personal boundaries or the law.
HA HA, BUSINESS LAUGH!!!
He hires an employee played by Riz Ahmed, a sort of shiftless stoner guy. I’d never heard of Ahmed before but I loved the vague, ‘wait what’ tone of his performance. I hope he goes far. The scenes where they’re tearing around L.A. in Bloom’s sweet red SRT (and somehow not being noticed by the cops) are so well-done.
Rene Russo, perfectly capturing the world-weary newscaster with decades of bad road behind her as Nina Romina, is Bloom’s connect for buying footage. Although she senses the sickness behind the smile, she needs his footage and can’t cut him off, and soon finds herself strong-armed into a “relationship” with him.
As I said, the trope’s familiar but the strength of the performances saves it. If you’re going to have a film about a sociopath, your lead has to have the right kind of eyes, and Gyllenhaal does.
When the abyss stares back, it will have Jake Gyllenhaal’s eyes.
Bloom has studied human behavior and empathy, and on the one hand he is absolutely earnest in his desire to please Romina. He knows all of the notes of the symphony but none of the meaning, and everything he does is calculated to benefit himself, so it makes sense that he really believes he can help her, because by extension he’s helping himself. Of course that’s not the problem; the problem is that he is forcing her into a relationship with him and leaving quite a trail of bodies in his wake.
BAH. There was a scene that I can’t find a .gif of that is just hilarious and shows the weirdly playful side of the movie, and it occurs during their disastrous and deeply unsettling “date.” Ah well! I’m curious to know if other people laughed the way I did at a certain line.
Bill Paxton shows up as a competitor of Bloom’s, who is obnoxious at first but comes to recognize Bloom’s talent and suggests a partnership, which Bloom blows off.
Look again at that gif up above. Look at the beautiful eyes, the self-assuredness, the complete confidence that Bloom emanates: He is right and she is wrong, he knows what’s best, and she just needs to accept it. Sociopaths are known for their charm and charisma.
Now look at this:
I hate that I made such a pat point, but it really is amazing, his performance. He was nominated for a Golden Globe, but not an Oscar. There are so many great, passionate actors in the world! I would give them all Oscars if I could! Heh, and then everyone would be special so no one would be special.
Anyhoodle, Nightcrawler is an absolutely brilliant film. It’s a modern noir take on a generation raised by journalism and the internet without being preachy, and I can’t recommend it highly enough for fans of dark humor and incisive social commentary. Since they are both about sociopaths, it inevitably draws comparisons with films like Taxi Driver and American Psycho, with good reason.
Based on a John Le Carre novel, TTSS is that kind of old-school film that challenges without being obnoxious. I would highly recommend it to anyone who’s a fan of thought-provoking political thrillers, taut, reserved performances, and distressingly accurate fashion reproductions. Seriously, Gary Oldman looks like he walked out of somebody’s 70’s era family photos. Put a goofy party hat on him or a kid in his lap and he’s there.
I don’t smoke but this movie damn near got me started. People smoke constantly and make it look GOOD.
A few months ago, Simon Pegg stepped in it by opining that current trends in science fiction and fantasy are possibly infantilizing its audience; that a love of cartoons, comics, and other escapist media are contributing to an immature mindset.
Naturally the internet landed on him with both feet and he clarified his comments later. Personally I can see both sides of the argument, but I’m not really exploring that in today’s post; and as a shy person, I can only imagine how challenging it must be to have to do promotional stuff 25 hours a day and have to “switch on” the moment there’s a microphone in your face. I have days where I can barely order in restaurants and I already know what I want.
Anyway, that social gaff occurred to me during the opening of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spybecause it is the exact kind of film Pegg was talking about. I was cruising around my queueueueueu and decided to take a break from Stephen Chow movies (4 this week so far!) and hit play.
This film is just amazing. It’s the kind of old-school thriller that I love and secretly fetishize: dudes walk around in sharp suits, smoking, drinking whiskey during their meetings and talking big game while their personal relationships crumble from within, and I would SWEAR that the cast were chosen for their beautiful voices as much as their acting or appearance. John Hurt, Mark Strong, Benedict Cumberbatch, Colin Firth, Gary Oldman, and (gasps) TOM HARDY basically turn every scene into choral conversations. I wish I knew how to do sound mixing – I’d do dance mixes of them just TALKING.
And talking is what this movie is. I love seeing a spy movie that really captures how deeply boring and uncool government work IS – and yet still captures the enormous tensions its employees labor under at all times. The setting was another twist; I admit my impression of London in the early 70s comes from Laugh-In, James Bond, and (embarrassingly) the Austin Powers movies, so seeing a “Swinging London” that looked about as festive as the inside of a government-issued filing cabinet was a novelty. I loved how drained of color the world of this film was; and even the moments where color should be bright seemed tired and faded. Everything is taking place in offices and the flats of people who have negated all personal interests and personality in service of their country, so of course it would appear drained and drab.
I am pleased to report that while everything else was gray, Colin Firth’s sass game was on point.
The plot is intricate, and carried by the aforementioned conversations. Often something the viewer is shown is deconstructed later on, so we can’t always trust our eyes. Some things occur offscreen, or are so subtle as to be barely noticeable.
At times I just accepted that I had no idea what was happening and let my impressions be carried by the music score, which must be how a puppy feels on the way to the vet. I had no idea where we were going or why, but was just thrilled to be along for the ride. That’s kind of the point – you need to accept that you know nothing before you can reach enlightenment, and by the end of the film everything was cleared up, plotwise.
IKEA needs to make fainting couches so I can buy one, look at this picture, and faint onto it. Over and over. For days.
As I mentioned before the cast was perfectly chosen. I never would have imagined I’d dig Tom Hardy with feathered 70s hair but today I learned something about myself. His character is part of a romantic subplot, and there’s a scene where he playfully teases his girlfriend by shining a mirror on her face. I am here to tell you that if people could bottle and sell his quiet manly radiance there would be a lot more love in the world. And babies. Probably. Or just sex.
Another facet to the film is the treatment of closeted gay men in 70s London. One character is closeted gay and another is revealed to be bisexual, adding another layer to an already magnificently nuanced film. Characters sacrifice a great deal for their country as I mentioned before, including relationships – and when one character (I won’t say who) has to break up with his partner or risk being outed, his pain is palpable; his was one of the few happy, functional relationships of the film and he has to end it. Other characters relationships are falling apart around them and the one who has managed to cultivate something must set it alight and walk away.
Based on a John Le Carre novel, TTSS is that kind of old-school film that challenges without being obnoxious. I would highly recommend it to anyone who’s a fan of thought-provoking political thrillers, taut, reserved performances, and distressingly accurate fashion reproductions. Seriously, Gary Oldman looks like he walked out of somebody’s 70’s era family photos. Put a goofy party hat on him or a kid in his lap and he’s there.
Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is available on Instant Watch.
Play a game of charades with some friends and see how far you get if you have to act out anything more complicated than simple nouns or verbs. Chicken? Easy. Chicken Little? Somewhat harder, but there will still be copious pantomiming to get the point across. Even if you know the person very well, you’ll still occasionally have to guess what they’re trying to depict.
Recently I wrote about my cinematic fail in watching Force Majeure. Basically I failed to understand the newest Netflix interface and didn’t push that most important of buttons when it comes to foreign film-viewing: SUBTITLES Now, you can totally fumble your way through a foreign film without subtitles given the right conditions. Such conditions include:
A passing familiarity with the language (I know enough French to follow some movies without reading the titles, but if anything gets more complicated than the present tense or basic concepts, I’m sunk)
A passing familiarity with the culture (You don’t have to master the pluperfect verb tense to know when people are yelling at each other)
A passing familiarity with the story (You might recognize themes or situations from famous plays, books, mythology, or graphic novels)
A story simple enough to surpass language (Dead Snow comes to mind; do we really need to know why the zombies of reanimated Nazis are harassing these attractive skiers and ruining their holiday? Do we?)
But! As I learned, context is key, and for context you must have translation, some kind of intermediary to help guide you to the salient points.
Picture this: two well-dressed people are meeting in a Parisian cafe. The director has done his job, and despite the beautiful, laid-back surroundings, the score is tense, as are the faces of our characters. You know it’s a crime film, you know someone young was murdered and dumped in a ditch and had some kind of relation to these two. Now: what more do you want to know? Who started it? Was it justified? How long’s it been going on?
I don’t need translation to watch Godzilla to know that giant monsters destroying buildings is a bad thing, but what about trying to guess what was happening in the Avengers (assuming you were unfamiliar with the characters)?
“There’s a big blue ball, and it’s just absorbed this little gold ball, and now it’s… there are a lot of windows, and now there are robots everywhere but there’s also one robot who … is standing there talking about something, and now there’s a bigger one and a man in a suit with lasers and now there’s a farm where the people are and again we’re back to the city and robots lots of robots and OMG FLYING TOWN and another flying man with lasers coming out of his head and now everything is okay but might not be. Whatever, it was worth the 10 bucks.”
Context is everything, especially in an age when so little culture is shared on an intimate level. With no subtitles or dubbing, I might recognize a Thai person by their mode of dress or the sound of their language or the shape of the letters on signs in the background or the presence of tuktuks, because those are the big contextual markers. I won’t recognize the little nuanced ones, like the nature of their relationships with other people. I might miss little gestures accompanying the person’s movements that indicate their relationship, like a deferment to an older relative or a rolled eye to indicate a tiresome friend. Even something that should define a relationship, like a sex scene, doesn’t help because you don’t know if these people are together, cheating, or engaging in a forbidden affair.
Play a game of charades with some friends and see how far you get if you have to act out anything more complicated than simple nouns or verbs. Chicken? Easy. Chicken Little? Somewhat harder, but there will still be copious pantomiming to get the point across. Even if you know the person very well, you’ll still occasionally have to guess what they’re trying to depict.
A movie without context is a series of Rorshach images that the viewer can pull all kinds of things from, depending on their perspective.
