The Wailing (2016)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Wailing (2016) – H.-j. Na

Eclectic blend of genres, primarily police procedural and supernatural horror, from Korean director Hong-jin Na (whose The Chaser, 2008, a serial killer procedural, I also enjoyed).  This time, over the course of 156 minutes, Na takes us from a near-comic look at a bumbling police detective (Do-won Kwak) in a rural town who has to deal with a series of bizarre murders and some wild zombie-like suspects to a full-on nod to The Exorcist (when his daughter becomes possessed).  A shaman is brought in to battle the presumed demon (an elderly Japanese man played by Jun Kunimura) and things get pretty bizarre (shades of Sammo Hung’s Encounters of the Spooky Kind, 1980, though played straight(er)).  The tension and suspense remain pretty high throughout – you just don’t know where the plot is going – and Ning manages to throw in enough familiar elements to tickle any genre fan’s fancy.  Perhaps things do get rather confused toward the end – but that ending is more-or-less crystal clear!  Perhaps it is not quite right to use a Japanese character as the villain in a Korean film – this seems an easy way to exacerbate tensions between the uneasy rivals – but it’s possible that Na meant no political ill will (or that he cynically took the populist route). That said, The Wailing is pretty fun throughout (if sometimes gory and freaky).

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018) – J. Coen & E. Coen

In their latest feature, available only through Netflix (?), the Coen Brothers have put together six short stories set in the (stereotypical, fabled) Old West.  The situations may be familiar but the Coens really seem to be working to generate a particular emotion, one of those complex emotions that you can’t quite put your finger on – is it wryness? There is some humour here (often broad, violent, absurd) but there is also death.  Deaths come unexpectedly, at the wrong moments, ironically -- and when they are escaped, they still come.   Each story begins with its first page (in a book of stories) and also closes with a look at the final page – and a quick reader can catch the trailing words that help to fully capture that emotion. For example, “Mr Arthur didn’t know what he was going to say to Billy Knapp” (or something similar) ends the fifth story (about a wagon train) which contains the longest build until the “punchline”.  In most of the stories, we are left to imagine what happens next.  This isn’t a film to make you laugh aloud (although there were some funny bits, particularly in the first story, about a singing gunslinger, that lends the film its title) but it contains that typical offbeat humour, wordplay/turns of phrase, eccentric character actors, and spot on art direction that makes the Coen Bros’ films fun.  They also make good use of Tom Waits (as an old prospector in a tale drawn from Jack London!) and also Zoe Kazan, Liam Neeson, James Franco and Tyne Daly.  But it is the vein of darkness that the Coens stitch into these stories that elevates them; it is the presence of death, life’s eternal partner, treated absurdly but always accepted. Perhaps there are some philosophical (or even political) points nested in these stories, but the casual viewer need not worry about them.  Instead, it is enough to know that these master alchemists have done their best to conjure up a very human feeling, okay let’s call it an “existential” feeling.  And it feels alright.

  

The Handmaiden (2016)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Handmaiden (2016) – C.-W. Park

You’ve got to expect a certain degree of intensity from director Chan-wook Park (based on 2003’s Old Boy alone!) and so the slow burn that makes up the first hour of The Handmaiden is something of a surprise.  Is this really just a stately period piece, set in 1930s Korea (occupied by the Japanese at the time) in a beautiful and exquisitely furnished mansion?  The plot description tells us that we will see a wealthy lady swindled by a con man in league with a pickpocket (who takes on the job of the lady’s handmaiden).  The con is supposed to result in the con man marrying the lady and then committing her to a mental institution and escaping with her fortune (a portion of which will be given to the handmaiden).  But by the end of the first hour (“Part 1”) this plot has run its course – and then things get much wilder and more like what we might expect from Park.  In fact, like all good con game movies, we are soon treated to the same events played again with a different vantage point (“Part 2”) and extending to a far different conclusion than would have been anticipated. Min-hee Kim plays Lady Hideko with a chilly distance (but proves far more knowing than she at first seems); Tae-ri Kim, as the handmaiden, may be the opposite (proving less crafty than we thought).  Park gives every set and sequence a sort of heightened reality and this is never more realised than in the extended graphic sex scenes which seem integrated into the plot (and the motivations of the characters) rather than offered gratuitously for titillation.  That said, Park is certainly playing to his audience’s expectations by pushing the envelope – and then there is another damned octopus!

Hotel Rwanda (2004)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Hotel Rwanda (2004) – T. George

Immediately after watching The Killing Fields (1984), Hotel Rwanda made me feel overwhelmed.  Too much genocide, too much sadness about human nature.  Again, we follow a particular individual, Paul Rusesabagina (played by Don Cheadle), as a way of gaining entrance and insight into what otherwise might be a horrific but depersonalised tragedy, full of statistics about how many died but lacking a hand to hold onto.  To show us the Rwandan conflict between Hutus and Tutsis, director Terry George follows Ruesabagina, the manager of a Belgian hotel in the capital Kigali who takes in Tutsi and other refugees, offering them asylum in the hotel (as armed forces and youth gangs hover outside).  Ruesabagina is Hutu himself but his wife is Tutsi, making him a “traitor” in the eyes of the Hutu coup leaders.  He is a wheeler-dealer of sorts, always keeping the power elite happy with gifts and favours – but he finds that they are no longer there for him when war breaks out.  Nor are the Westerners who soon flee the country and fail to send aid.  Nick Nolte’s UN colonel does his best in an impossible situation but it is Rusesabagina’s quick thinking that keeps (some) people alive.  Cheadle is good in the central role, as is Sophie Okonedo who plays his wife (and a number of other actors in Rwandan parts are also convincing, whether they be corrupt generals, warlords, or hotel workers).  In the end, however, the enormity of the crisis, its woeful tragic effects on innocent people, tends to dwarf the story of Paul and his (Herculean) efforts to save people.  As a(nother) history lesson about what can happen when the world isn’t watching (or caring), this is an important document.  And as a demonstration of moral courage in the face of evil, let’s hope we could all be so brave.

  

The Killing Fields (1984)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Killing Fields (1984) – R. Joffé

Roland Joffé’s film tells the story of New York Times journalist Sydney Schanberg and his friend Cambodian journalist Dith Pran as they experience the U. S. bombing of Cambodia, subsequent departure of international forces, and then the bloody rule of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge in the 1970s, which resulted in genocide.  As expected, it is horrific.  But focusing on the central friendship allows the filmmakers to treat the terrible events as a sort of backdrop, letting viewers digest their awfulness while keeping their attention on the more specific concerns of Schanberg (Sam Waterston) and Pran (Haing S. Ngor), such as how to get Pran a forged passport.  Of course, the film could also be charged with the typical crime of giving American viewers a white protagonist to identify with rather than simply telling the story of the Cambodians -- but, conversely, Pran does dominate the film’s second half (in a work camp) and really becomes the film’s emotional center (and Ngor rightly won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar).  The film doesn’t really pull any punches either – there are brutal unjust killings throughout, plus the usual aftermath of war (injured and dead children, dead bodies piled up or cast aside), even as the cinematography can also be quite beautiful (showing sunsets of Thailand, where the film was shot).  The tension remains high for most of the picture and you never quite know who will survive.  Waterston, John Malkovich (playing an acerbic photog), Spalding Gray (who later developed his monologue Swimming to Cambodia about making this film) and Craig T. Nelson are some of the familiar faces who went on to further success after this film.  Cambodia itself took a lot longer to recover from the events portrayed here...which stand as a warning to the world and its leaders.  Powerful.

The Other Side of the Wind (2018)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Other Side of the Wind (2018) – O. Welles

Finally completed in 2018 (after shooting concluded in the 1970s) and long after Orson Welles’ death in 1985, due to the considerable efforts of Peter Bogdanovich (star), Oja Kodar (star and co-writer), Frank Marshall (producer), and Bob Murawski (new editor to complete Welles’ work that he left unfinished), among many others, including the team from Netflix who supplied the capital to get the project finally done.  The result is intensely stylised in true Welles fashion, although not immediately recognisable as his work, save for some similarity to F for Fake (1973; perhaps due to the presence of cinematographer Gary Graver and Kodar again).  But that other 70s’ work was an essay film (and there were a few others, such as Filming Othello, 1978) but for all its charm and trickery and ground-breaking form, it is nothing like the over-the-top madness of T.O.S.O.T.W.  There are two central conceits that set the groundwork for Orson’s stylistic fireworks.  First, director J. J. Hannaford (John Huston) has invited an array of reporters, cineastes, etc. to a party at former star Zarah Valeska’s (Lilli Palmer) house and they bring all manner of cameras and recording devices, thus resulting in a dazzlingly-edited, multiply-mediated presentation (colour, B&W, different film stocks and resolutions).  Second, at the party (and also in an earlier scene in a screening room), we are treated to Hannaford’s latest film which is a work in progress; this one is in widescreen and colour and very possibly a parody of Antonioni’s Zabriskie Point.  In other words, we are shown an older director’s attempt to make a hip film for rebellious youth, full of nudity and sex (courtesy of Kodar, Welles’ lover at the time) and some psychedelic rock (whereas the rest of the film has a cocktail jazz score by Michel Legrand).  That film inside the film has some beautiful shots, especially in contrast to the narrative about Hannaford’s troubles in financing the film, but it is otherwise vapid and boring (decidedly on purpose).  The rest of the film could likely be called Fellini-esque, with an array of different faces and eccentric characters on display and a plot that might echo 8 ½.  The dialogue whizzes by a bit too fast to process but undoubtedly there are some snarky lines and cynical observations about Hollywood’s machinations – from one who knew.  So, in the end, not Welles’ lost masterpiece (he has too many great films to top), but a worthwhile addition to his oeuvre and a compelling example of his late outré style.  

Laura (1944)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Laura (1944) – O. Preminger

Classic noir romance from Otto Preminger that finds police detective Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews) doing his best to solve the murder of Laura Hunt (Gene Tierney) with a long list of suspects including her gigolo-like fiancé (Vincent Price, yes, Vincent Price), his wannabe sugar momma (Judith Anderson), and the bitchy older writer/radio personality (Clifton Webb) who first introduced Laura to society and may feel romantically toward her.  Webb narrates a long flashback sequence where we learn about Laura’s recent life up until the murder.  McPherson’s involvement in the case seems to verge on obsession (and he actually makes a bid for a large portrait of Laura from her estate).  By the end, we do find all the suspects gathered in one room so the detective can make the pinch – but everything is not as it seems (and the rules of the B mystery movie don’t really apply).  Director Otto Preminger handles everything beautifully but this is a certain type of noir, the kind that is a little less dark (despite the central murder), the kind that let’s viewers off the hook rather than implies a wider human darkness.  Later, Preminger would take Andrews further into the darkness and Fritz Lang would also use the actor to portray some flawed characters in some of his late noirs.  Andrews makes more of an impact in these later films.  Here, Gene Tierney and Clifton Webb dominate (and they would be re-paired in The Razor’s Edge two years later); she isn’t quite the femme fatale (she seems nicer) and he is perfect to provide the narration but isn’t the actual hero – in other words, noir conventions/cliches are eschewed here or weren’t yet set.  Adding to the sense of mystery and allure, Laura’s musical theme was a big hit at the time (though not as memorable as The Third Man’s zither).  It goes without saying that this is required viewing for noir aficionados.

The Shape of Water (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Shape of Water (2017) – G. del Toro

Director Guillermo del Toro is really a master craftsman and this film shows him to have reached something of a peak – you can see the beauty onscreen.  Yet it is surprising that this won the Best Picture Oscar because it is still a “weird tale” in keeping with del Toro’s oeuvre (which includes The Devil’s Backbone, 2001, and Pan’s Labyrinth, 2006, alongside other more overt genre fare).  A bizarre mix of The Creature from the Black Lagoon and an odd couple romance that harkens back to the creature double features of the 1950s/60s while still including enough content that is strictly adults only (nudity/sexual references, swearing, bloody violence, etc.).  Sally Hawkins plays a mute cleaner at a high security scientific facility at which a humanoid river monster has been locked up; she shows him compassion and, being lonely herself, soon falls in love.  Her only friends, played by Octavia Spencer and Richard Jenkins, help her to rescue her “man” who is in danger of being vivisected under orders of a tough security guy played by Michael Shannon.  The Russians also have an interest in these proceedings (since it is the Cold War era).  I tried to resist but the film gradually won me over; despite its heart-warming romance, it stays weird, champions the outcasts, and has lots of little touches done well.  Del Toro and his team seem not to have ignored any detail on screen, everything seems fondly chosen on purpose to fit with a “vision” with very little attempt to cater to mainstream tastes, save only for the high production values, beautiful art design, and tasteful blend of CGI and costume/make-up/prosthesis. Certainly worth your time.   

Dead of Night (1945)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Dead of Night (1945) – A. Cavalcanti, C. Crichton, B. Dearden, & R. Hamer

My favourite of all horror anthologies and from Ealing Studios no less (famous for their delightful comedies:  The Lavender Hill Mob, The Ladykillers, Kind Hearts & Coronets, among them).  Four directors cover five tales (and a further linking narrative) that manage to capture that elusive spooky feeling that I remember so well from children’s books, the kind of books that told of lonely young people meeting and befriending new acquaintances in deserted locales (and of course, these new friends always turn out to be ghosts, long dead).  Perhaps Lafcadio Hearn’s spooky Japanese folktales (retold in Kaidan/Kwaidan by Kobayashi) also capture this feeling – is it what we call the “uncanny”?  Dead of Night manages to evoke this feeling in a number of different ways beginning with the linking story that shows an architect arrive at a house full of houseguests with the strong sense that he has been there before in a dream – indeed, he ominously begins to predict what will happen next.  This leads each guest to tell a spooky story from their own past, including a race car driver who is given a mysterious warning to avoid his own death, a young girl who meets a ghostly child when playing hide-and-seek, a wife who accidentally gives her husband a haunted mirror, the host telling a comic story of two golfers in love with same woman (featuring Basil Radford & Naunton Wayne, from Hitchcock’s The Lady Vanishes), and finally and most famously, a psychiatrist telling of his encounter with a ventriloquist who has a strained relationship with his dummy.  As anthologies go, this one is less uneven than most (although the golfing episode was dropped for the US release) and the four directors are equally strong (Cavalcanti, Crichton, Dearden, & Hamer).  The spooky feeling may stick with you for days!