Here are a couple of new releases from Breaking Glass Pictures, a distribution company I admit I'd never heard of before they contacted me, asking me to review some of their upcoming horror offerings. I've been in the horror blogging biz long enough to know that it's often dangerous to take screeners from strangers; every now and then you get something interesting and worthwhile, but more often you get something...well, somewhat less so. Still, I wouldn't have got where I am today without being willing to thrust my hand in the bucket and see if I can dig out a pearl, no matter how many times I come up with a fistful of chitterlings instead. So, knowing the risks, I accepted their generous offer.
In this case I'm very glad I did, because if the two movies they sent for initial consideration are any indication, I'm going to want to keep an eye on their future releases. And that means, of course, that you should too.
We start with Darkness (2009, dir. Juraj Herz), a moody, atmospheric ghost story from the Czech Republic. (It was originally titled T.M.A., which I guess means something to Czech readers?) Successful musician Marek (Ivan Franek) is taking some time off from his rock n' roll, clubbing lifestyle to return to his rural home village and focus on expressing himself through painting. Marek's parents were killed in a car crash more than 20 years earlier, when Marek was 7 years old, and he hasn't been back to the family estate since. Apparently no one has, as the place looks like the Haunted Mansion ride at Eastern Bloc EuroDisney, all cobwebs and thick layers of dust and icky rusty water gurgling from the pipes. Wanting to get his head together and separate himself from the rat race, Marek has purposefully left his cell phone charger in the city, which you just KNOW is going to turn out to be a wise decision on his part.
Marek: the Justin Beiber of the Czech Republic
I'm being purposefully vague on the details here, since Darkness is one of those movies that rewards curiosity and lack of foreknowledge. Herz directs the film with an assured talent, giving the audience enough to keep them interested without spoon-feeding like the inevitable American remake is sure to do. The cinematography is just gorgeous, with deep shadows and sparsely used filters evoking a very creepy tone. The acting is great too, particularly from the two leads, but also from Lucie's father and the town archivist who may or may not have a darker history of his own. The ghost story elements are handled expertly, and while the threads of the story and subplots down't always mesh exactly, the end result is still satisfying. It's also a very sexy movie, with a few well-shot sex scenes and lots of nudity (bonus points for not being of the anorexic, Hollywood Barbie variety--by necessity, no doubt, but still, Vicar likes), so really it left me wanting for nothing.
In short, if you like creepy, well-made ghost stories that are beautiful to look at and feature Czech rock music and lots of Czech sex, then you should definitely "czech" Darkness out! (HAW!)
On the other side of the Mad Movie coin we have Brainjacked (2009, written and directed by Andrew Allan). The flick follows the adventures of Tristan (Chris Jackson), a young man from a supremely dysfunctional family (as in, we first meet him as he awakes to find his stepfather throwing a gangbang/drug party, with Tristan's mom as the main entertainment) who is also plagued by debilitating migraines. Running away from home, Tristan falls in with angelic pixie-girl Laney (Somali Rose), who gets him into the halfway home of philanthropic neurosurgeon Dr. Karas (Rod Grant) where she and a bevy of other runaways/former migraine sufferers have found a kind of communal paradise. The reason for the "former" qualifier is Dr. Karas's unique, 100% effective treatment for migraines: the ancient art of trepanation!
It should come as no surprise that Dr. Karas is a Mad Scientist of the first order, and has some dark ulterior motives behind his seemingly selfless procedures. After a few weeks of happiness at the commune (and a "falling-in-love-with-Laney" montage, naturally), Tristan discovers that Dr. Karas has done more than cure their headaches--he's implanted a mind control device in each perforated cranium, turning his devoted patients into mindless automatons he plans to use to infiltrate the highest echelons of society for the usual Mad Scientist reasons. After a fight with some of Karas's grotesque surgical "failures" knocks the control unit out of Tristan's skull, he liberates Laney and together they try to expose the bad doctor. But Karas's influence goes further than they think, as everyone they meet seems to have that same tell-tale forehead scar...
This movie has much more of a shot-on-video, indie-production feel than the glossy, high-budget-looking Darkness, but it overcomes that with good low-budget set design, some interesting lighting, and a mad science storyline wild enough to keep you interested. The performances range from amateur to pretty great. Johnson as Tristan is fairly bland and deadpan, though he pulls off the migraine pain believably. Christopher Sarlls, who plays rebellious former patient Zane, delivers all his lines as if instructing you on the pronunciation of his own last name, in a Wolverine/Batman tough-guy snarl that is so overblown it's hard not to make fun of (so don't try). Rose does better as Laney, and is a feast for the eyes in her white mini-dress, matching stockings, and intricately braided coiffure.
My stars! No garters!
Example: "I'm going to drill a hole in his skull to alleviate pressure and recalibrate cranial blood volume....You see, sometimes our brains grow too large for our skulls...this drill removes more than bone marrow...it removes the barriers of the mind...and once you are free, nothing can stop you from your destiny!"
Sounds good to me! Also, kudos to writer/director Allan for going the extra mile and giving Karas a Lionel Atwill-worthy artificial hand, which he can snap off and switch with a cranial drill attachment to perform his life-changing trepanations! Something we don't see enough of, in my opinion. More kudos for using practical effects for the movie's numerous and subtantial gore scenes, some of which I admit had me cringing in my seat. In fact, I'd say Brainjacked is one of the better low-budget indie horror flicks I've seen in a while, thanks to an unusual, creative premise, a mostly well-thought-out and delivered narrative, and Mad Movie style to spare.
"Is it safe?"
Friday, August 20, 2010
DVD Reviews: DARKNESS (2009) and BRAINJACKED (2009)
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Baby (1973): or, You Oughta Wean Him, He's Old Enough
Reading synopses, reviews, and open-mouthed shock reactions for Ted Post's 1973 weirdo exploitation romp The Baby, I had somehow got the idea that at least part of the movie's shock value was inherent in the reveal of its premise--a social worker goes to the house of an eccentric family to assess the needs of their "special" youngest member, only to discover that the "baby" she thought she'd be caring for is in fact a thirty-year old man in an oversized crib and diapers. Therefore I worried that, since I knew the premise going in, much of the effectiveness of that shock reveal would be diffused.
Parishioners, I was happily misinformed--not only about how much the flick's effectiveness relies on that shock reveal (hint: it doesn't), but about that knockout premise's centrality to the plot as a whole. Yes, there's a thirty-year-old man with the brain of a pre-verbal infant who sleeps in a gigantic crib and occasionally needs his nappy changed, but surprisingly that's just a small part of what makes the movie tick. It's merely the soup base, if you will, to which Post and writer Abe Polsky add a variety of savory exploitation ingredients--some diced, some chunky, some pureed--to arrive at a delicious Mad Movie stew.
Despite all his rage, he still acts twelve years underage.
Social worker Ann Gentry (Anjanette Comer, previously of the beloved-by-some Mexican oddity The Night of a Thousand Cats) is a lonely woman whose life has been marred by some unspecified tragedy involving her husband--a tragedy she's loath to discuss, but is always reflected in her sad, striking blue eyes. She spends her days immersed her her work with disadvantaged and disabled children, and her nights in the darkened palatial mansion she shares with her devoted mother-in-law, watching home movies of happier times. It's a sad existence, and one that clearly leaves Ann unhappy and unfulfilled.
All that changes when she takes on the case of the Wadsworth family, a trio of eccentric women who depend on governmental assistance to care for their youngest brother/son, "Baby" (David Mooney). There's no shock reveal here, as before the opening credits are over Ann has thumbed through a series of photos showing the infantilized adult crawling on the carpet, lying in his crib, and modeling the Depends™ Fall Line with undeniable panache. Ann takes an unusual--indeed, downright unhealthy--interest in the case, and quickly inserts herself into the daily life of the Wadsworths so she can spend as much time as possible with Baby.
Not the first time she's given blue balls.
This doesn't sit well with Mama Wadsworth (an absolutely wonderful Ruth Roman, twenty years on from her top-billed female lead role in Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train), who would much prefer the social worker just rubber-stamp their file, send the check, and butt the hell out. Mrs. Wadsworth is a tough, no-nonsense matriarch you definitely don't want to cross--think Varla from Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, only thirty years older and living in the suburbs. When Ann comes to her with ideas about how to improve Baby's condition, Mrs. Wordsworth lets her know she will not suffer her motherly toes to be stepped on. "Maybe you think too much," she tells the timid woman, archly. "When it comes to Baby, I do all the thinking."
That comparison to Russ Meyer's most famous anti-heroine is a considered one, as Mrs. Wadsworth and her two daughters make up a trio of villainesses that would feel right at home in the Meyer universe, if only they had the giant boobs required for entry. Youngest daughter Alba (Susanne Zenor) is a lanky pigtailed blonde who gives tennis lessons for pocket money. She's the angriest and most out-of-control of the Wadsworth women, vicious with Baby, sadistic with her would-be lovers, and given to delivering lines like Katherine Hepburn channeling Bette Davis ragging on Joan Crawford. (Nota bene: if you've never heard Bette lay into Joan, get thee to youtube or a quote site, stat. It's art.) Eldest daughter Germaine (Marianna Hill, who the same year memorably starred as Arletty in the MMMMMasterpiece Messiah of Evil) brings in a negligible amount of cash as a model and actress in commercials, and would probably make more money if she didn't come off like one of the forgotten members of the Addams Family. Sporting the vampress bouffant and slinky floor-length skirts, Germaine is the quiet, creepy sister, whose motivations for her kindness to both Baby and Ann prove to be somewhat less than altruistic.
"You're all shook up, aren't you, Baby?"
But that doesn't mean Post and Polsky don't milk their premise for all it's worth. For instance, when Mama Wadworth and the girls decide to go out for a night on the town, they hire a young babysitter to watch Baby for the night. The girl is in her very early twenties and has apparently sat for Baby before, and is totally comfortable with him. After a telephone argument with her boyfriend lets us in on her sexual frustration, she goes to mind the baby, who is cranky and hungry. Despite his child-like mentality Baby *is* as strong as a thirty-year-old, and he starts pawing at the girl's breasts--clearly hoping for a little snack before bed! The girl resists at first, but finally allows Baby to latch on, a look of clearly sexual pleasure on her face! It's a testament to the film's disorienting skill that this reads more as the girl abusing Baby than vice versa.
Clearly Conflicted
The Wadsworth women pick that moment to come home, and Mama is most displeased to find Baby's lips wrapped around the milk-nozzle of the hired help. So displeased that she orders Germaine and Alba to teach the girl a lesson, which they do by slapping her bloody on the changing table before Mrs. Wadsworth takes the strap to her! As the sobbing girl flees, Mama reminds her not to go to the police, lest she be charged with "molesting a mental case."
As Ann investigates Baby's case files, she begins to find even more disturbing evidence. Baby's previous case worker had tried to spend a lot of time working with him as well, but then strangely disappeared just when she was beginning to report progress. (Dun-dun-DUN!) Furthermore, she theorizes that Mrs. Wadsworth, abandoned by her last Baby-daddy, now hates all men and is dead-set on making sure Baby, the only male member of the family, stays dependent on her and so never leaves. "He's imprisoned by a kind of sick love!" she tells her boss, and not heeding his warnings, begins to encourage Baby to speak and walk.
But the main focus of the film is on Ann and her battle to wrest Baby away from his supervillain family. As her concern morphs into obsession, Ann begins to dream of adopting Baby, taking him home to live with her and her mother-in-law in their huge, largely empty home. Though usually timid and vulnerable, periodically Ann displays flashes of grim determination, as when she gets fiercely competitive in a game of darts with Alba. Similarly, her home life is punctuated with strange mysterious notes. For instance, why is her mother-in-law living with her in the absence of her familial connection, and why does she seem so devoted? What was the tragedy so severe that it causes Ann to crumple under Germaine's relentless questioning? What does Mom-in-Law mean when Ann asks her how her day was and she replies, "My feet hurt...among other things!"
(Hint--the implied answer later will knock your socks off.)
Chekhov Rule
It all culminates when Mama Wadsworth throws a 70s-style blow-out for Baby's birthday. Words can really not to justice to the awesomeness of this party, but I'm going to try, nonetheless. With Germaine glammed up like Helena Bonham Carter gone Disco, Alba in full-on sex-tease/party-bitch mode, and at least three-dozen of Mama Wadsworth's closest friends (INCLUDING the babysitter they beat to a pulp earlier!), this had to have been the social event of the season, if not the decade. Have we got red light bulbs? Have we got enough booze to keep Oliver Reed happy for 36 hours? Have we got hippie girls doing the frug with silver-haired middle-aged men straight out of Weekend with the Babysitter? Have we got Grave of the Vampire's Michael Pataki in one of the most amazing fringed suede jackets ever? YOU BET YOUR SWEET BIPPY WE DO.
Bandana Styles Come and Go, but The Chicken Dance is Forever
"No, seriously! I was on an episode of T.J. Hooker once!"
Get down, Mama!
Having had enough of Ann's meddling, Mama decides it's time to get her out of the picture permanently by drugging her drink and dragging her to the basement for later disposal. It works like a charm until Pataki notices and has to be distracted by Alba, who promises him sex if he can hold his hand over a flaming lighter for a full minute. ("I'll do anything to get to paradise, Alba, but does it have to be in an ambulance?") Unfortunately no one's minding the Baby, and with his inadvertent help Ann is able to escape and take him back to her place, slashing Mama's tires on the way out. ("That BITCH!" Mama spits. "She thinks of EVERYTHING!") This leads to an all-out SWAT-style attack as the Wadsworths invade the Gentry Mansion to get their Baby back (baby back baby back baby back), and that shock reveal I was waiting on all this time finally leaps out of the shadows and hits me in the face with a soaking wet nappy.
The very definition of "only in the 1970s," The Baby is a Mad Movie gem. The heightened-reality vibe I associate with Russ Meyer is here in full force, minus the bouncing boobs and cartoon sound effects. The Wadsworth women are larger-than-life icons, and Ruth Roman is absolutely monumental. With that Old Hollywood acting style and the bemused expression of a gangster who knows he could make one call and have your family's digits express delivered to your door, Roman absolutely nails the role. The other Wadsworth girls are great too--particularly Marianna Hill in her weird, disturbingly sexual role--but it's Roman who really makes things sizzle.
Ruth Roman: All Out of Bubble Gum
Anjanette Comer plays Ann as the polar opposite to Mrs. Wadsworth's supreme self-confidence and dangerous capability. Ann is vulnerable and sad, an emotional open wound, whose obsession with Baby is a desperate attempt to fill the crater in her life left by that unnamed meteor of tragedy. Finally, David Mooney as Baby is admirably committed to the role, though at times he seems to play Baby less like an infant than like a puppy. Apparently Mooney recorded the "baby sounds" for his performance--crying, baby talk, etc.--but Post later replaced them with actual baby sounds. I can't help thinking hearing Mooney's original interpretation might make things even weirder and more effective, but sadly that track seems to be lost.
Given its premise, the film demonstrates what some might call admirable restraint in many ways, as detailed above. However, the score of the movie by Gerald Fried is not one of those instances. In fact, it's downright schizophrenic. There are passages that sound like Henry Mancini Pink Panther-style jazz, juxtaposed with bombastic Spaghetti Western music (both Fried and Post have many Westerns in their filmographies), switching then to plinky music box and finally to experimental Kronos Quartet-style string screeches. If Fried meant to capture the mental states of the various characters in this score, well, I have to say he succeeded.
"No, sorry--I don't have a Hugh Jass here."
In closing, if you only see one movie this year about a man-baby cared for by strong, eccentric women and kidnapped by a well-meaning social worker for ulterior motives of her own, make sure it's this one and not Adult Baby Fetish 5: Oops I Crapped My Playpen. 3 Thumbs for this exemplary Mad Movie.
Nota Bene: Aunt John over at Kindertrauma (one of the Duke and Vicar's absolute favorite web stops--follow it now if you haven't already!) put together a wonderful post on Baby's Birthday party that must be seen and thereafter applauded maniacally. Here's the link. Go there now!
A few more images from The Baby (1973):
Bringing Up Baby
"Please stay behind that line on the carpet. We've determined that to be the limit of his blast range."
She Loves the Night Life
"Cover your ears, Baby--Mommy's about to call someone a cocksucker!"
"Awww, oos got him a wittle boo-boo?"
Just like in the dream!
Told Ya
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Images of Film: Everybody Loves a Little Head
Yes, the Vicar has been tagged in that image meme that's been going around the Internets, and looking over my photo albums, one very particular theme stood out strongly. So without further ado, please allow me to give you a little head:
But that's not enough for a big strapping reader like you, is it? No, it never is. Well, I'm nothing if not accommodating, so sit back, relax, and enjoy!
(Click-through on the photos to MMMMMovie reviews where available; photos credited [where I remember them] with links to credited reviews.)
"Darling, we need to talk."
"There will be time, there will be time to prepare a face to meat the faces that you meat."
It was not exactly what her husband had in mind, but somehow they were still able to make it work.
"Oh no you didn't!"
Gypsy hookers: they rip you off.
Notable by its absence.
Bed Head
Paper plates: the Mad Scientist's Friend
"I'm more than happy to return the favor."
Is this really necessary?
"I told you this would happen, Sis! Now don't lose it again!"
Collect them all!
"I AM SO BAKED RIGHT NOW!"
That's one ugly baby.
Trophy Husband
Hands and feet included at no extra charge
"Vell, scheiss."
Early trials showed the Gillette Mach 17 to be somewhat difficult to master.
"Holy shit, this turnip looks just like my wife!"
The Decapitatrix is not amused.Bunnies,
The Vicar
ETA: If you can't get enough of people losing their heads, check out Fred[The Wolf]'s Image meme on Full Moon Reviews. (It's the same topic, but with very little overlap.)
http://www.fullmoonreviews.net/2010/08/horror-images-meme-marie-antoinette.html
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