Midsommar

Tags

2010's, Ari Aster, Florence Pugh, Horror, Jack Reynor, Midsommar, Psychological Horror, Vilhelm Blomgren, Will Poulter, William Jackson Harper

Ari Aster follows up his creepy and startling debut Hereditary with Midsommar; an ambitious, head-spinning horror that builds to a stocking finale, while supplying tension, tiered meanings and an immensely dedicated performance from Florence Pugh.

Dani( Florence Pugh) is a young woman who’s just experienced a gut-wrenching trauma. Her bipolar sister committed suicide via inhaling carbon monoxide and killing her parents as well. Broken by this, Dani turns to boyfriend Christian( Jack Reynor) , who is not exactly helpful and more interested in himself. Their relationship was precarious as it was and now Dani leans on him for support which he is unable to supply her with. A few months pass and Christian, who is studying anthropology for a PHD, is invited by his Swedish friend Pelle(Vilhelm Blomgren) to a festival in his Nordic homeland. He is to be joined by fellow students reasonable Josh( William Jackson Harper) and obnoxious Mark(Will Poulter). Dani finds out and Christians reluctantly asks her to come with them, to which she accepts. She’s still reeling from her trauma and suffering with depression and anxiety, but the trip sounds like a good getaway for her. Touching down in Sweden, they go back to nature among the wide fields and mountains that are populated by a commune. Dani and the others are soon witness to the ways in which they celebrate and their intriguing but slightly off kilter ways of ritual and worship. At first, the practices seem odd but just slightly different and nothing too serious. There’s dancing, ingestion of strange ingredients with hallucinogenic qualities and the fact that everyone does things in a group which while weird doesn’t really give the impression of anything dark or macabre. Yet with growing horror, events get ramped up and grisly horror ensues for the visitors, most of all fragile Dani. What started out as a sojourn to a festival with a difference slowly morphs into a waking nightmare for Dani as things just get more and more intense, impacting on her already tenuous mental state.

Ari Aster proves Hereditary was no fluke with this electrifying and bizarre blend of psychological folk horror and a meditation on trauma. He goes for the creeping approach, peppering in shocks and even snippets of humour at the start then slowly bubbling away at the uneasiness mounting like a fit to burst volcano. Grief seems to be a subject with which Ari Aster is familiar with and Midsommar continues in that vein but from a more surreal and grander scale. The most obvious comparison to Midsommar is The Wicker Man. Both films feature a community that’s pagan religion deviates from what is deemed traditional and most of the action takes place in sunlight. References can be seen and are well done( for me it’s a high comparison with a classic), but Midsommar is its own film with a hallucinogenic sensibility and layered drama. While very much a horror film, Midsommar functions as an exploration of reaction to trauma, purging the soul and toxic relationships. The last mentioned point on relationships is especially true as things continue to go downhill for Dani. The horror hits home more for that very reason and then some. I believe Midsommar is the type of movie that is rewarding upon watching again. Pockets of information are scattered often in plain sight but make more sense once the whole picture comes together with frightening force. You’ll be left thinking about the film no matter how you feel about it that’s for sure and certain.

On a visual level, Midsommar is an assault on the senses. From a flipped shot that goes upside down in arresting fashion to the houses the commune live in that are decorated with telling murals, you can’t escape the sensory overlord and beautiful cinematography. The use of wide shots and aerial shots captures the surrounding in majestic form, fleshing out the setting that is as breathtaking as it is unsettling. Bathing events in a mostly bright sheen, horror plays out against flora and fauna in a most peculiar way. The setting is alive, quite literally in some parts as you’ll no doubt be witness to if you venture out to see Midsommar. One of my favourite touches is Dani among the ladies dancing around in circles, adorned with a flower headdress. It’s a scene that overlaps images to a dazzling effect and perfectly sums up the unusual stance of this movie. It’s spellbinding even when outrageous and stomach churning festivities are taking place, making sure you never quite look away from what’s presented to your eyes.The use of sound is exemplary, from the unusual rhythms and punctuated noises to the eerie sense of silence and stillness. It compliments the atmosphere of something being very sinister and extremely horrifying to come.

At the heart of everything is the promising Florence Pugh. Over the last few years she has impressed me with her versatility and she doesn’t disappoint with her performance  in Midsommar. She’s contained and crumbling under the burden of grief, constantly attempting to stifle her feelings. When it all comes out, Pugh nails the anguish and the sense of release, coupled with the slow and crushing sense of falling deeper into horror( or is it something else?) Her eyes are fascinating at profiling her internalised emotions that eventually reveal themselves with shocking intensity and surprising depth. Put simply, Florence Pugh impresses throughout with her surrender to challenging material. Jack Reynor nails it as the conceited boyfriend who gets put through his own horror and Reynor shines in the horrifying last act. Vilhelm Blomgren, William Jackson Harper and Will Poulter flesh out the other men of the movie who experience the terror unfolding, with Will Poulter the most memorable as the guy obsessed with getting sexy action and getting a lot more than he bargained for. As good as the guys are though, Midsommar belongs to the exceptional Florence Pugh who is for my money, going places.

Horrifying, hypnotic and hard to forget, Midsommar is one of the most unsettling films I’ve seen in a while. But like it’s predecessor, once you’ve viewed it, you can’t shake it. Ari Aster is shaping up to be a major league director and Florence Pugh is fast becoming a prominent and talented actress to watch.

Hereditary

Tags

2010's, Alex Wolff, Ann Dowd, Ari Aster, Gabriel Byrne, Hereditary, Horror, Milly Shapiro, Psychological Horror, Supernatural Horror, Toni Collette

A visceral, emotionally haunting and horrifying psychological horror from the debuting Ari Aster, Hereditary plunges you into grief, family secrets and the terror of what we might inherit from our relatives.

Annie Graham(Toni Collette), a miniatures artist, is mourning the death of her secretive mother. She is joined in this by her therapist husband Stephen( Gabriel Byrne)and their two children; bored and dejected 16-year-old son Peter( Alex Wolff) and unusual tomboy daughter Charlie( Milly Shapiro) . The thing is Annie was estranged from her mother and various things in her past impacted their tenuous relationship. while young Charlie, who was her Grandma’s favourite, begins acting even more strangely than usual. Soon enough, a strange force begins plaguing the family. Though she secretly visits grief counselling for guidance, Annie believes she sees her mother again, Charlie also sees visions of this along with unusual phenomena. Peter buried his feelings in smoking pit and trying to get girls but tragedy brings him back around. Stephen is the main point of attempted calm in a powder keg situation that slowly starts to unravel. It all pertains to the deceased Grandmother, but how does it? As grief and tragedy plunge the family further into turmoil, Annie starts to lose her grip on her sanity and events descend into a waking horror for the Graham’s. Matters aren’t helped by the arrival of Joan(Ann Dowd), a mysterious woman who ingratiates herself into Annie’s life with shocking results.

Ari Aster marks himself out as a director with a future. He’s clearly a guy who loves his  spine-chilling, psychological horror and Hereditary is a testament to that. He’s got a fantastic handle over pacing; slowly dropping crumbs of information and things you think are just accidental, but are intentional. It’s a slow burn that’s punctuated by moments of shock horror and extreme situations, while still examining the ups and downs of grief in a bubbling way. Then when we get to the heart of things, all hell breaks loose and Aster unleashes chilling moment after moment. Be warned, the last half an hour is some intense stuff that will make even the most seasoned horror viewer sit up and be freaked out.

You’ll be left with images of great horror and of an unsettling nature once you finish Hereditary. And with good reason as they are plentiful and a credit to the visual team and the exploration by Aster. From slowly zooming camerawork to a mastery over sound( the sound of a tongue clicking will haunt your dreams as will Colette’s roars of grief and an intense dinner scene) , it’s a movie for definite horror fans. The claustrophobic atmosphere, heightened by the abundance of scenes within the family’s large house, helps us ruminate in how grief can isolate is and how familial ties are not always . This film isn’t full of cheap scares as it has more on its mind. Take for instance when Annie believes she sees the ghost of her mother. Most horror films would feature a sudden reveal, not here. Instead, Aster uses a wide shot and gets the audience to really pay attention as to see whether it was real or not, as if daring us not to trust our eyes. I admired Hereditary for the fact it didn’t have to resort to throwaway scares. Hereditary is certainly not for everyone, but for those with a penchant for dramatic scares and unusual imagery, this should be a treat. A rumbling score is the cherry on top of the cake as murmurs, low electronic humming and unusual instances of cacophony blend hauntingly.

One of the finest things in Hereditary is the committed performance from Toni Collette, who turns in some of her finest work. She’s put through the wringer of emotions and just displays them all so convincingly and vividly. From grieving daughter to mentally unstable and all that’s in between, Collette doesn’t miss a beat and often conveys varying feelings within seconds of each other. One can’t stress enough the sheer full throttle force with which she acts here. It has to be seen to be believed and experienced. Gabriel Byrne provides solid support in a role that could have been boring, but rises above such worries. He’s the non believer trying to keep his family together but failing as times passes. Alex Wolff gets the alienated and confused state of mind for his character just right, going between moments of escaping pain to enduring intense suffering that makes no sense to him. Rounding out the family is young Milly Shapiro, who sends shivers down the spine as the daughter seemingly most affected by her grandmother’s death. You never quite know what to make of this little girl but she is damn important to the story. In a small but pivotal role, the ever reliable Ann Dowd exudes an uneasy sense of niceness that is tempered with something that tells you that you can’t trust her as far as you can throw her.

Super unsettling, packed with ideas and thematic value, plus boasting impressive acting and an atmosphere of never ending dread, Hereditary is definitely for those who appreciate a slow burn and a searing drama within a horror movie.

The Killing of a Sacred Deer

Tags

2010's, Alicia Silverstone, Barry Keoghan, Colin Farrell, Horror, Nicole Kidman, Psychological Horror, Psychological Thriller, Raffey Cassidy, Sunny Suljic, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Yorgos Lanthimos

Director

Yorgos Lanthimos

Starring

• Colin Farrell as Steven Murphy
• Nicole Kidman as Anna Murphy
• Barry Keoghan as Martin
• Raffey Cassidy as Kim Murphy
• Sunny Suljic as Bob Murphy
• Alicia Silverstone as Martin’s Mother

An unsettling psychological horror with the trademark Yorgos Lanthimos touch and reference to Greek myth, The Killing of a Sacred Deer is very disturbing but impossible to turn away from.

Cardiologist Steven Murphy has it all; a great career, a beautiful ophthalmologist wife Anna and two young, well-behaved children, Kim and Bob. His picture perfect life in the suburbs is seemingly here to stay, but there is a tiny and disturbing hitch too it. He has a friendship with a 16-year-old boy named Martin, who he meets and showers gifts upon. Although is friendly with Martin and introduces him to his family, there is something decidedly off about the whole arrangement that you can’t shake. And soon enough, the demanding Martin, when he’s not trying to set up Steven with his mother, becomes a thorn in side. He becomes more dependent and doesn’t seem to understand that his presence is not always needed. His obsession grows and starts to worry Steven, who mainly took interest in the boy after his father, who he treated earlier, died . Then, out of nowhere, Bob loses the use of his legs and is hospitalised. This is soon followed by Kim, which begins to have an impact on Anna who is in the dark on what is happening. Steven starts to unravel too as things turn worse for his idyllic family and he’s thrown into a tailspin. Yet as illness sets in, an increasingly menacing Martin reminds Steven of a past mistake of his that links to the young boy’s life. Soon everything is under crisis and  Steven’s existence is torn apart by his past actions and the boy who wants to even what he sees as the score.

With a catalogue of films that revel in dark subject matter, unusually black humour and an all round weirdness, Yorgos Lanthimos has really made a name for him. The Killing of a Sacred Deer is Yorgos Lanthimos working fluently and creatively to fashion a story of deep-seated revenge and culpability. He has this bubbling intensity and creeping eeriness that happens right from the startling opening of an open heart surgery. You know from that point on it’s going to be a disturbing movie, but what a movie it is. Lanthimos is in control here; cold and calculating in the style of Stanley Kubrick whose work clearly has an imprint. And while Martin is what seems to be the main antagonist of the piece, the other characters also sport unusual tendencies that mark them out as not as innocent or polished as they outwardly appear. For example, Steven is an arrogant man who can’t handle not being able to exercise control over things. This extends to his love life with his wife, who he has pretend to be under anaesthetic when getting intimate. The deadpan, almost robotic way of talking that has come to populate the work of Lanthimos is here, but does also allow for shadings of emotion and drama in there. And the uneasy and uncomfortable humour further sears itself on to the mind, as characters behave in ways that seem at once alien and yet so ordinary. It’s the kind of humour that you don’t know whether to laugh at or question, and is all the better for it. It sure keeps you on your toes as you navigate another weird world from the mind of Yorgos Lanthimos. And though some of it might sound familiar to lovers of psychological horror, it’s the execution that truly counts and Sacred Deer delivers with its own twist on things.

With long corridors of scrubbed white, cavernous interiors and a zooming, voyeuristic camera, The Killing of a Sacred Deer also deserves praises for what it visually gets across to the viewer. It’s a sinister and slithering atmosphere of increased dread as evil and retribution combine and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Credit must go to the cinematographer that is Thimios Bakatakis for imbuing The Killing of a Sacred Deer with such an impending aura of doom and inevitable woe. We often observe characters from a distance or from a looming height; neatly edited and giving the impression of spying on events as they take shape.  The whole psychological aspect of having to make a horrifying decision for something you’ve done is creepy and more than makes its mark on you as the gears of tension continue turning. Discordant strings telegraph that something is not right from the word go and the addition of opera accentuates the tragedy here. The film is influenced by a Greek myth that gives the movie its title and accordingly, the swelling and rumbling of music heralds the approaching agony of loss and blame. Those looking for a comfortable viewing experiences better check those expectations at the door as The Killing of a Sacred Deer is not one for the easily frightened or spooked.

Colin Farrell, who was so good in The Lobster, plays someone spineless and full of themselves here. His character’s  life is so meticulous and to his liking that it’s given a royal kicking when horror unravels. Sporting a bushy beard and his real accent, Farrell is extremely watchable as the cardiologist haunted by the past. Equally as good is the ever dependable Nicole Kidman, who’s been on a roll recently with her performances. With her face that silently projects inner turmoil and frazzled intensity, she’s ideal for the role here that could have easily just been a throwaway part. With Kidman in it, it’s impossible for it to be anything less than stellar, particularly when she comes into her own in the latter half of the film and everything gets laid bare. The Killing of a Sacred Deer is my first introduction to young actor Barry Keoghan. And if the rest of career is as good as his work here, great things await him indeed. He has this naturally mysterious and sinister presence, complimented by how he speaks the dialogue in a halting but intimidating way. It’s enough to set you on edge and Keoghan knocks it out the park as a vengeful teen, dishing out his brand of justice to an idyllic family. Raffey Cassidy plays the daughter of Steven and Anna; who is drawn to Martin even though he’s the one out to ruin her family. Young Sunny Suljic portrays the son, who is the first to fall ill and crank up the eeriness. And it’s nice to see Alicia Silverstone back on screen again with a very memorable one scene performance. She gets the movie’s best line after she is rejected by Steven for putting the moves on him. Everyone gets in to the mindset of the film and the unusual demands of it.

A spine-chilling, deeply unnerving and memorable horror/thriller with psychological terror at the centre, The Killing of a Secret Deer is a haunting movie that is hard to shake off.

Bug

Tags

2000's, Ashley Judd, Bug, Harry Connick Jr, Michael Shannon, Psychological Horror, William Friedkin

Film Title

Bug

Director

William Friedkin

Starring

• Ashley Judd as Agnes White
• Michael Shannon as Peter Evans
• Harry Connick Jr as Jerry

A psychological horror that’s more about the ravages of loneliness and the persuasive yet damaging delusions to escape that feeling, is rendered unnervingly by William Friedkin in Bug. Scripted by Tracy Letts from his own play, Bug comes to frightening and intense life under the direction of, and aided by two astonishing performances from Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon.

Agnes White is a lonely and haunted young woman who resides in a battered old motel in Oklahoma. Having been terrified by her now released ex Jerry( who keeps cold calling her) and her son disappearing ten years ago, life hasn’t been easy for her. In between working at a local bar, Agnes gets drunk and does drugs with her only real friend to ease the pain. One night, she is introduced to a mysterious man named Peter Evans. He is a little bit awkward but well spoken and pleasant enough towards Agnes. Slowly, the beaten down woman starts to find a certain companionship with this fellow loner. It’s when Peter is seemingly bitten by a bug that his instability comes out, with him talking of time he spent in the army and how he’s being hunted for experimental purposes. At first, Agnes doesn’t know what to make of Peter and his conspiracy stories, but things take a turn quickly. Having been worn down so much and aching for connection that leaves her too open to suggestion, Agnes soon starts to gel with Peter’s delusional theories of a bug infestation in the motel room. Having Jerry lurking around does nothing to help Agnes and how Peter’s imaginings take hold of her. Peter’s frenzied behaviour and ramblings are enough to convince Agnes of something terrible and paranoid. Sealing themselves inside the crummy motel room away from everyone, insanity breeds and the varied delusions of bugs and conspiracy quickly overtake Agnes and Peter completely.

William Friedkin delves deep into the troubled psyche of the protagonists with his cinematic flair illuminating turmoil and eventual downward spiral. that will make your skin crawl and unsettle your mind as it throws you headlong into delusion and isolation that has damaging effects on Agnes, as created by paranoid Peter. Friedkin is a man who knows how to use a camera for maximum impact; often employing gliding motions before cutting to hand-held restlessness as the story cranks up. Armed with a script by its original creator, the encased and isolated aura of a play is successfully kept but as a string to the film’s bow rather than a weakness. The building atmosphere provided by both direction and screenplay is riveting in slowly pacing events, then unearthing with quick succession the obsessive and troubling path to insanity encountered by the characters. Within Bug, Agnes and Peter feed of the others anxieties and paranoid minds, further slipping away from any form of understanding reality. The thematic value of loneliness and desperation is brought out as something that influences the eventual horror in a most effective manner. Part of this is best envisioned in the fact that Bug largely takes place in one setting; the run-down motel room that has seen better days. Even when some light comes in, it’s a setting that takes on a creepy tone as sanity wanes and the cinematography captures some moody contrasts in colour with harsh, grimy efficiency. Now Bug does get a little too abstract in some parts, but the sheer volume of psychological content and claustrophobic mania of it cover up these cracks to produce a quite startling and horrifying movie. Bug reminds us that all the best and most terrifying horror comes from the mind and suggestion, insuring you won’t be able to quite forget this film after viewing. A sparse musical score brings more attention to the alarming content, yet knows when to pitch in for some doom-laded menace.

I’ve always thought Ashley Judd is a good actress, who for whatever reason, seems to be in movies that are somewhat generic, though her talent largely shines through. Here however, she’s got a role that really shows off her abilities with dramatic full force and allows her to shine. Capturing the pensive sadness of Agnes, who seems resigned and wounded by a terrible life, Judd slowly becomes more and more unstrung as her need for company in turn sends her into insanity. With gutsy anguish and feverish unpredictability, the pitiful and in many ways doomed Agnes is fantastically played by the marvellous Ashley Judd in what is probably her finest performance. Michael Shannon has a naturally intense demeanor to him that is largely from his steely eyes and tough jaw. Even when still and not seeming off kilter, he successfully exudes a sense of restlessness that will soon worryingly combust. These traits, along with a palpable sadness, are wonderfully and frighteningly put on display in Bug. Starting out playing Peter as a little awkward and strange, once the paranoia aspect hots up, Shannon lets loose and his frenzied tics and raw energy come out with spectacular results. It’s safe to say, Shannon’s unsettling and manic performance is not one to forget as he’s so scarily effective in the part. Both of the main stars share a warped and startling closeness that is remarkably intense and worrying. One can imagine that both Judd and Shannon must have been exhausted upon filming completion, given the emotional distress and frenzy they both had to play. Harry Connick Jr provides a beefed up and hair-trigger temper as the convict ex of Agnes, whose appearance disturbs her but is nothing compared to what transpires with Peter.

An an uncomfortable and disquieting horror that drags out the dark recesses of the mind and presents them with skin-crawling assurance, Bug is a movie not for everyone. But for those willing to watch a claustrophobic examination of paranoid delusion and alarming co-dependency(acted with striking intensity) that turns to mania , Bug will be well worth checking out. Just be warned, you won’t be able to shake Bug for some time, which is to give credit to the sheer impact of it all.

Sisters

Tags

1970's, Brian De Palma, Charles Durning, Jennifer Salt, Lisle Wilson, Margot Kidder, Psychological Horror, Sisters, Thriller, William Finley

Film Title

Sisters

Director

Brian De Palma

Starring

• Margot Kidder as Danielle/ Dominique Breton
• Jennifer Salt as Grace Collier
• William Finley as Emil Breton
• Charles Durning as Joseph Larch
• Lisle Wilson as Phillip

Brian De Palma’s first foray into thriller-horror in Hitchcockian style, Sisters is an unpredictable and unnerving movie that shows off what we’d all come to see as staples of his work and how successfully and creepily he’d craft them.

Danielle Breton is a French-Canadian model living in Staten Island and occasionally using her talents for an acting job. She has just appeared on a certain game show and has just been asked out by one of the contestants Phillip. The two hit it off over dinner where Danielle briefly mentions her twin sister Dominique, and how she hasn’t seen her for a while. Once at her apartment, the two share a passionate evening, but nothing can prepare anyone for the events the following morning. He is brutally stabbed by what appears to be a crazed Danielle( or is it the previously unseen Dominique?). Fatally wounded, he makes it to the window and using his own blood, spells out help. In the apartment opposite, industrious journalist Grace Collier witnesses the incident. She reports it to the police, but due to her history of exposing corruption in the ranks she is laughed off. Even when she takes detectives to Danielle’s apartment, there is no sign of a body and she is dismissed. But Grace knows what she saw and thanks to curiosity, she begins digging into the case. Grace also employs an old-fashioned private investigator Joseph Larch; who may be out of the game currently but still has a nose for this sort of mystery. Getting to the bottom of all of this is what Grace plans to do, though she doesn’t realise she’s opening a particularly twisted can of worms that includes Danielle’s former husband who is always sneaking around and much more.

Sisters was the first film from De Palma to be what many would cite as an inception of his trademark direction and themes. You’ve got the nods to Hitchcock, through stalking camerawork that recalls Rear Window and duality that points to Psycho. Split screens are employed in spectacular fashion, lasting for minutes while twinning together things that gain more impact as the film continues. In fact, doubles and duality are displayed in a very unusual and off kilter way that has you uneasy, and allows De Palma to fiendishly pull the wool over our eyes and then surprise is. Throughout the often crazed and baffling story, De Palma’s sure hand and control over what he is directing is in full effect, announcing the many more thrilling movies that would follow this peculiar yet riveting thriller. There is something quite surreal about Sisters, typified in a couple of menacing yet beautiful dream sequences, filmed in black and white and filled with an arch toying with perception( very befitting of the psychological horror we are presented with). Danielle and Dominique are both purposefully mysterious, leading us to not quite know which is which and just what the true agenda may be.  By the end certain things are revealed, just not in the way you’d expect them to be which allows Sisters to be something that won’t leave your memory quickly and puts the mind into overdrive. As creepy and chilling as the film is, De Palma laces a lot of moments with a sort of gallows humour that catches you off-balance, but does a lot to keep the story and our watching of it something unexpected and not at all typical. Added to this is an underlying examination of the way that women can be patronised and used by men; both Danielle and Grace experience many things at the hands of men, in particular Grace whose job as a reporter combined with her gender suffers stigma regarding her talent and choice of lifestyle. This little bit of commentary is yet another string to the movie’s impressive bow. Now some logic is a bit lacking in Sisters, but you’re that engrossed that the tiny flaw can be swept away and forgiven, especially for how minuscule it is. A screaming and alternating score comes courtesy of Bernard Herrmann. The score triumphs with sudden switches in sound and tempo that infuse necessary jolts of terror and spooky mystery.

Margot Kidder pulls double duty as the twins that give the film its title. Displaying very different personas that may actually be false or at the very least mendacious, Kidder blend them together with a jagged result of questions and uncertainty that is a plus for the gripping movie. Kidder plays the varying characteristics of both twins with a deliberately ambiguous approach, lending to the fact that we can never be sure whether it is Danielle or Dominique we are witnessing at any given time. Margot Kidder is very impressive, but it was Jennifer Salt that really caught my attention. Filled with a deep enthusiasm and courage of her own convictions, Salt naturally plays the crusading Grace, who gets more than she bargained for. There is a tenacity within the diminutive Jennifer Salt that suits the role nicely and although her insistence is often the thing that gets the better of her, we want her to succeed and unravel what she can. William Finley is menace personified as the creepy ex-husband skulking around, particularly in the way he uses his intense eyes that never seem to blink and appear to follow you. Charles Durning is wise ass and witty as the private investigator roped into the proceedings while Lisle Wilson has a small but unforgettable part of the unfortunate man who ends up butchered

An eerie and suspenseful movie of stylistic approach and creeping kookiness, Sisters represents the auspicious first entry into the art of scaring and spooking audience that De Palma clearly enjoys.

1408

Tags

1408, 2000's, Horror, John Cusack, Mary McCormack, Mikael Håfström, Psychological Horror, Samuel L. Jackson, Stephen King

Film Title

1408

Director

Mikael Håfström

Starring

• John Cusack as Mike Enslin
• Samuel L. Jackson as Gerald Olin
• Mary McCormack as Lily Enslin

Based on a Stephen King short story, 1408 creates an eerie and genuinely unnerving ambience that finds horror in the psychological mould thanks to a welcome lack of gore.

Mike Enslin is an author of books based around the occult and paranormal. His shtick is to visit supposedly haunted places and debunk whatever is allegedly creepy there. He is a cynical and sardonic guy who finds the whole supernatural thing to be nothing more than an attempt to make a profit, but there is something that keeps drawing him to these locations. In his mail, he comes across something that references a room 1408 at The Dolphin Hotel in New York. Curious about it, he checks into the hotel. The manager of it Gerald Olin, sternly warns him not to check into the room under any circumstances. In the hotel’s history, there have been multitudes of unexplained deaths attributed to the room.  Mike scoffs at Olin’s claims and by threatening legal action, forces his hand to let him stay. Once in the room, Mike sets about investigating the alleged paranormal activity. Nothing much happens at first, before little by little, a genuine terror and force takes over both Mike and the room. The clock in the room starts a timer from sixty minutes as well as continually playing The Carpenters ‘We’ve Only Just Begun’. The temperature plummets to freezing levels. Strange phone calls are put to the room. Probably most alarming are the spectres from the room’s past that begin accosting him and the eerie presence of his deceased daughter taking up residence to torment him. And when he tries to exit the room, he finds that every possible way out is not there and he is now locked in a desperate battle to survive something that he viewed as impossible at the start. Now fearing for his sanity, just how long can he hold on as the presence in the room grows powerful and more startling?

On directing duties there is Mikael Håfström, who delights in bringing an old-fashioned style horror to the screen and terrifying us without cheap gore. Employing some excellent camerawork of tight close-ups and the occasional jump, Håfström is adept at making psychological terror. He sets up the character of Mike very well. He must do battle with his own demons that the room brings to life, adding an emotional slant to the character and it deepens the tone of the movie. The slow build up of 1408 is key to its creepy success. Mikael Håfström knows how to begin with a sense of icy restraint and then crank up the encroaching dread as Mike becomes ever more disturbed by the phenomena he experiences in the eponymous room. The room is almost a character in itself as the events transpire for most of the film’s duration in it. We are never explicitly told what it is that is in the room, just that it is something of a presence. I respected the movie for not going on the obvious route and revealing everything, opting to leave it up to us to fathom what truly resides in 1408. Creepy moments abound(a lot of the time due to the golden tinge and menace of the cinematography) not least Mike’s desperate attempt at escape out of the window that reveals that there are no rooms on either side. Or are there? Then there is the frantic spinning of delusion as Mike thinks he’s beaten the room but is dragged right back into it in a hair-raising set piece. Now I must state that 1408 goes a bit overboard in the last half thanks to a flurry of constant CGI. While it is a bit distracting, the finely crafted terror of the rest of the picture manages to bring 1408 back to greatness and ensure that disaster isn’t allowed to set in. Except this flaw, 1408 is largely an imaginative and chilling exercise in old-school terror which allows it to stand out among the glut of gory horror films that have been found in the last decade or so. A simple story with ghoulish intent can have a bigger impact which 1408 craftily showcases with haunting intent. An echoing and reverberating score layers on the levels of suspense and unease for both the terrified Mike and us. Put that with a gloriously done sound effects, that isolate and then accentuate the noises and surroundings to terrifying effect and 1408 casts a nail-biting spell.

For a lot of 1408, it is mostly John Cusack by himself on screen. And it must be said he performs admirably and never loses the attention of the audience. Starting out as snarky and cynical, his attitude is eroded away as his deep-seated fears and his past that he has bottled up emerge to torment him. Cusack is superbly cast here and gives it all he has by charting the descent of this man who is forced to acknowledge things he didn’t think we’re real in terrifying situations. He is a veritable one man show for a lot of 1408 and his acting never fails to generate results. Samuel L. Jackson is also very effective in the smaller role of the frightened hotel manager. Jackson is an actor known for turning up the dial and rocking being manic, but here he underplays it with a sense of dignity and fear that is most befitting of the part. Mary McCormack plays Mike’s estranged wife in a few scenes, but is never really given a lot to actually do in the big scheme of things.

I wouldn’t say it is the best Stephen King adaptation( as there have been some pretty good ones) and the third act gets a bit over the top, but 1408 is still a deeply unsettling chiller that wonderfully favours atmosphere and plot over gratuitous violence. You won’t be sleeping soundly after viewing 1408 as it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention through its unusual spell.

The Strangers

Tags

2000's, Bryan Bertino, Gemma Ward, Horror, Liv Tyler, Psychological Horror, Scott Speedman, The Strangers

Film Title

The Strangers

Director

Bryan Bertino

Starring

• Liv Tyler as Kristen McKay
• Scott Speedman as James Hoyt
• Gemma Ward as Dollface

Low on gore yet full of creeping suspense and terror, The Strangers is unnerving and genuinely terrifying psychological horror that will leave you sleepless.

A young couple, Kristen McKay and James Hoyt are staying at remote summer-house for a getaway before heading on a road trip. James proposes to Kristen, but she refuses and doesn’t want to rush things. With a wedge between them, they try to salvage a relationship which is already on shaky ground. Their attempts to rekindle their relationship are however put on hold by a knock at the door. Answering, a young girl whose face is obscured by a broken light, asks if Tamara is there. The couple send her away after telling her that no one of that name lives there. Everything seems fine, until another knock at the door which then escalates into torment from the girl, who is wearing a china doll mask along with two other masked assailants for back up. The trio begins to systematically terrorise Kristen and James with loud banging, violence and methodical ways of emotional torture as they trap them inside the house. Kristen and James are soon caught in a fight to survive the night as the assailants step up their campaign of terror by cutting off all contact or chance of escape. The terrified couple is forced beyond what they thought they were capable of in order to live through this twisted game orchestrated by the intruders for what seems to be their own sick enjoyment.

Bryan Bertino skillfully creates an atmosphere of dread without resorting to showy gore and carnage. Yes there is violence, but where the true scares of The Strangers lies is in the slow-burning build up that turns extremely frightening as events unfold. There may be nothing original or groundbreaking in The Strangers, but it isn’t trying to be something else and that’s why it is very effective. It understands the creeping power of excruciating silences interrupted by jump scares and the power of burnt orange lighting which sets the mood and harks back to the 70’s. The lighting in particular gives the movie extra scares because of the fact that at any moment one of the intruders may just spring from the dimly lit corner of the house to menace Kristen and James. This film exploits the fear of intrusion of where we consider to be safe and does a very good job at winding up suspense as Kristen and James have to evade capture if they have any chance of survival. And yes some people may say that the movie is unrealistic and at times you have to suspend your belief, but you have to admit that there is a plausibility to it that is hard to shake. I admired the way that the pace occasionally comes up for air and lets us sympathise with the two main characters(who are thankfully not two screaming teenagers but adults and well-played ones too) before plunging them, as well as us, into a living nightmare. A minimalist score keeps the piece laced with an unpredictable nature, that rises when the terror hits and then nestles into suspense.

Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman are both well cast as the victims in the twisted taunting game set up by the eponymous strangers. Both of them convincingly convey fear, uncertainty and desperation as they fight to survive ensuing horror. Tyler in particular rivets the attention with her expressive blue eyes and the way she exudes terrified vulnerability is really something. The three strangers sort of blend into together in their terrifying way, Gemma Ward is the only one who speaks and makes the most of the creepy lines she has to deliver.

So what The Strangers lacks in originality it more than makes up for in terrifying horror and effective performances.

The Innocents

Tags

1960's, Deborah Kerr, Horror, Jack Clayton, Martin Stephens, Megs Jenkins, Michael Redgrave, Pamela Franklin, Peter Wyngarde, Psychological Horror, The Innocents

Film Title

The Innocents

Director

Jack Clayton

Starring

• Deborah Kerr as Miss Giddens
• Martin Stephens as Miles
• Pamela Franklin as Flora
• Megs Jenkins as Mrs. Grose
• Peter Wyngarde as Quint
• Michael Redgrave as The Uncle

Filled with an exceptionally eerie atmosphere, The Innocents is one of the finest psychological horror movies I’ve seen due to its power of suggestion instead of cheap shocks.

In Victorian times, the somewhat sheltered Miss Giddens applies for a job as a governess. She meets a wealthy man who is the uncle to two young children who were orphaned years ago. The uncle has no real desire to look after the children because of his business so despite the inexperience of Miss Giddens, he hires her immediately. Miss Giddens travels to the large mansion he owns to look after the two young children, a boy named Miles and a girl named Flora. Introduced through kindly housekeeper Mrs. Grose first to the seemingly angelic Flora, Miss Giddens takes a liking to her and sees no trouble on the horizon. Yet all of this will soon change when Miles is expelled from school and returns to the old mansion. Although both of the children appear nice enough, there is something very peculiar about them, particularly Miles who is alarmingly mature for his age. Miss Giddens begins to feel a strange sense of dread build around them and this soon leads to unusual events. The young governess swears she sees a man up on one of the turrets, but when she looks there is no one. She also sees a woman in black near the lily pond who swiftly vanishes. The behaviour of Miles and Flora becomes unnerving as they seem too knowing and keep secrets with one another. Confiding in Mrs. Grose about her sighting of the unidentified man, she learns that he resembles the master’s former valet Peter Quint, who died on the steps of the house. A wicked and perverse man, he entered into a relationship with the children’s former governess Miss Jessel and they regularly influenced Miles and Flora in disturbing ways. Miss Jessel also died around a year ago by taking her own life after losing her abusive lover. Terrified of the thought that the children she is caring for are possessed by the malevolent spirits of Quint and Jessel, Miss Giddens tries to get to the bottom of the creepy events around her. But are these things just figments of her guarded and repressed imagination? Or a result of a nervous breakdown? Or is the house and the children genuinely haunted by ghosts?

Jack Clayton masterfully keeps a sense of atmosphere throughout The Innocents, slowly unfolding the chilling tale with moments of creeping intensity every so often without being clichéd or overt. He marvellously creates ambiguity to the events witnessed, as an audience we must question the validity of Miss Giddens and whether or not she is actually seeing ghosts. Even up until the shocking end, we are never certain whether the occurrences are in fact real or imaginary. We are truly left to decide for ourselves and that makes The Innocents a frightening film as it taps into something very psychological. Visually, The Innocents is outstanding in the way it captures the Gothic nature of the house and the dark shadows from its past that could be rising again through striking cinematography. Countless scenes of creepiness and ambience abound here, from the sightings of Miss Giddens, her hearing disconnected, surrounding voices through one of the corridors or most unusually, young Miles kissing her with an adult intensity that clearly alarms her. The score for The Innocents is minimal, but is all the more effective for it as it rises during many of the eerie moments that populate the film and give it a ghostly impact and letting the silence take a lot of the suspense. And one can’t forget the bone-chilling and ghoulish lullaby that features throughout the film and creates a menacing impact whenever it appears.

Deborah Kerr turns in a wonderful performance as the increasingly highly strung Miss Giddens. She displays the fear of darkness lurking about and the terrified nature brought on by a naive way of thinking. With the wrong actress the role of Miss Giddens could have been overly dramatic and histrionic, but the exceptional Deborah Kerr keeps things a bit more subdued in the beginning, making her descent into terror and hysteria very well-executed. Kerr’s great delivery further gives The Innocents a sense of ambiguity because at times her actions seem valid and acceptable and in others bordering on hysteria and sheltered fright. Martin Stephens and Pamela Franklin are perfect as the unusual children Miles and Flora, that have something that unnerves after initially seeming angelic and sweet. These two rank highly on my list of creepy movie kids. Megs Jenkins is good as the kindly housekeeper who tries to explain away events as imaginary but becomes clearly frightened by the ideas of Miss Giddens. He doesn’t speak a word but whenever Peter Wyngarde is on screen as the villainous apparition of the vile Quint, the intensity of his eyes is terrifying to behold. Michael Redgrave makes the most of his brief role as the disinterested uncle to Miles and Flora.

Hugely chilling and skillfully ambiguous, The Innocents is a haunting film that will keep the hairs on the back of your neck on end for hours after watching.

 

Rosemary’s Baby

Tags

1960's, Horror, John Cassavetes, Maurice Evans, Mia Farrow, Psychological Horror, Ralph Bellamy, Roman Polanski, Rosemary's Baby, Ruth Gordon, Sidney Blackmer

Film Title

Rosemary’s Baby

Director

Roman Polanski

Starring

• Mia Farrow as Rosemary Woodhouse
• John Cassavetes as Guy Woodhouse
• Ruth Gordon as Minnie Castevet
• Sidney Blackmer as Roman Castevet
• Maurice Evans as Hutch
• Ralph Bellamy as Dr. Sapirstein

Unraveling at a deliberate pace and bristling with macabre intent, Rosemary’s Baby is a psychological horror, that under the talented hands of Roman Polanski really gets your mind working and leaves a haunting impact with ambience, excellent work from the cast and creepy atmosphere.

Rosemary Woodhouse, a sweet-faced young woman and her struggling actor husband Guy move into the Bramford apartment in New York. Though they are warned that the place has a very sinister history by good friend Hutch, they ignore it with Rosemary stating “Awful things happen in every apartment house” and move into the old building. The young couple intends on starting a family and set about settling into their new home. Soon enough, Minnie and Roman Castevet; two elderly neighbours who are very inquisitive and eccentric, introduce themselves into the lives of Rosemary and Guy. Guy finds the couple endearing and harmless, but Rosemary feels uneasy around them as they become increasingly nosy and overtly friendly. It’s around this point that strange events begin to occur to the innocent Rosemary. Guy becomes strangely distant when he acquires a plum role in a prestigious play after the lead actor who originally had the part goes blind. Rosemary begins to hear weird chanting from her neighbour’s apartment. Guy begins to spend an unusual amount of time with the Castevets. And finally, Rosemary discovers she is pregnant. Though happy about the news of her pregnancy, she is plagued by a recollection of a very vivid dream she experienced after eating something prepared by the oddball Minnie. In the harrowing dream, she was raped by a demonic presence. Rosemary soon becomes very isolated, frightened and convinced something is wrong as her symptoms of pregnancy don’t add up( she starts to look gaunt, has deeply severe pains in her abdomen, her new doctor prescribes bizarre remedies and she seems to be losing weight rather than gaining it) and her neighbours become more and more ingrained into her life. And with the unusual nature of her conception at the forefront of her mind, she begins to feel as though there is a dark, sinister plot against her and her child of the supernatural kind and that Guy knows something about it. Are Rosemary’s fearful behaviour and concerns for herself and her unborn child for a good reason? Or are they simply the alarming delusions of a naive mind?

Roman Polanski wonderfully writes and directs this creepy psychological horror that knows the meaning of slow burning terror. He builds paranoid tension by utilizing the setting of the apartment to craft a sense of isolation as Rosemary becomes more convinced that sinister designs are planned for her baby. Polanski knows exactly how to exploit audience fears by cranking up the ambiguity of the piece. Is Rosemary imagining it all? Or are her beliefs that something supernatural is a foot real? Polanski just brings so many possibilities to the piece but despite the overtones of something not of this world, he makes it all very realistic because of the seemingly normal setting. There’s little gore in Rosemary’s Baby, but this is the kind of horror film that is all about sinister suggestion and is all the more effective for not resorting to blood-soaked carnage. The camerawork is predatory in its movement, creating tension and unnerving suspense as it continues to follow the slowly terrified Rosemary. A devilishly crafted and often deceptive score of unwinding menace provides many chilling pieces of music, most prominently a lilting lullaby that repeats in creepy fashion, sung by star Mia Farrow.

Heading the impressive cast is Mia Farrow in a hugely convincing and harrowing performance. As Rosemary, Farrow imbues her with such a waifish innocence that it is hard not to sympathise with her and twinned with her elfin appearance of large, haunted eyes and iconic pixie cut, she is a character who you genuinely want to shield as the morbid plot unravels. And as the story goes on, Farrow essays the sheer amount of escalating panic and fraught emotion with deft skill, as we witness the tortured Rosemary slowly becoming more paranoid of events around her. I think it’s fair to say this is Mia Farrow’s best performance of her career. John Cassavetes has just the right amount of slimy arrogance to keep you guessing whether Guy is in on the plot that Rosemary believes is meant for her. In a well deserved Oscar-winning role, Ruth Gordon perfectly plays the dotty Minnie, who starts off as a nosy neighbour dressed in garish clothing and then evolves into something more devilishly sinister thanks to her morbid humour and kooky peculiarities. Sidney Blackmer excellently compliments Gordon as Minnie’s husband Roman, who for all his eccentricity, can be very creepy indeed. Maurice Evans in the supporting cast is great as Rosemary’s friend who becomes very concerned for her well-being, while Ralph Bellamy is unusual as the doctor who prescribes strange remedies for her and may know more than he is letting on.

Slow burning terror and psychological games make Rosemary’s Baby a masterpiece of mood and atmosphere that insidiously gets under your skin.

Jacob’s Ladder

Tags

1990's, Adrian Lyne, Danny Aiello, Elizabeth Peña, Horror, Jacob's Ladder, Matt Craven, Psychological Horror, Psychological Thriller, Tim Robbins

Film Title

Jacob’s Ladder

Director

Adrian Lyne

Starring

• Tim Robbins as Jacob Singer
• Elizabeth Peña as Jezzie
• Danny Aiello as Louis Denardo
• Matt Craven as Michael Newman

A Vietnam vet’s tortured existence that blurs between reality and visions is captured in horrifying detail in Jacob’s Ladder, directed with creepy certainty by Adrian Lyne and anchored by a powerful turn from Tim Robbins. This is a film that will stay with you for a long time not just due to the haunting, disturbing story and bizarre visuals, but for its harrowing emotion rare in a horror film.

Jacob Singer is a Vietnam vet who after the war is now working as a postal worker in New York City. Although now living with his seductive girlfriend Jezzie following a divorce from his first wife Sarah, Jacob is also mourning the death of his young son and recalling a terrifying an experience during the war when he was stabbed with a bayonet by an unseen soldier. Yet as he tries to move on with his life through his new relationship and job, terror soon encroaches upon it due to visions of demonic beings plaguing him in a fragmented fashion. On his way from the subway, a passenger’s face appears distorted and strangely warped. A nurse appears to have horns under her hat. A wild party turns into a room of beasts. What is causing these sights and are they real? Has Jacob’s mind been fractured by the traumatizing events in Vietnam? He begins to believe this theory when fellow members of his platoon come forward with their stories and they become convinced that the government did something to them while they were stationed in Vietnam. But with his visions growing stronger and finding it harder to distinguish what is real and what isn’t, can Jacob uncover the mystery before the horror completely overtakes him and he completely crumbles? With assistance from his kindly chiropractor Louis and a mysterious man named Michael Newman, Jacob attempts to fathom the nature of these visions and the validity of them before it is too late.

Adrian Lyne brings the nightmarish world Jacob inhabits to life with assured direction, that also taps into the deeper emotions of the story. His successful direction gives life to the ambiguities that Jacob’s Ladder throws at us and places us like Jacob in this abyss of not knowing what to believe or see. Visually, Jacob’s Ladder is phantasmagorical with horrific visions and sights. The fragmented nature of the movie as it cuts between past, memories and possibly delusions is edited with a disjointed quality that creates fear and confusion. Two particular scenes stand out that convey the sheer horror of the piece. The first features Jacob witnessing a man at a party’s head spinning violently fast as if in a constant state of convulsion. The second and most memorably terrifying is Jacob being taken into the decaying bowels of a hospital, strewn with body parts and disturbed patients. Strapped to a gurney, he is investigated by sinister doctor, including a man with no eyes. It truly is terror at its most psychological and unsettling. And yet for all of the horror on show, there is a very melancholy tone that pervades the movie, and is embodied by Jacob’s descent. The film can also be commended for the avenues of possibility it opens up. You’ve got the prospect of government experiments, the grief felt by the loss of a loved one and biblical allusions all at play and giving the film layer upon layer of ambiguity. An ambient score from Maurice Jarre backs the mounting events of bizarre terror and unexplained horror excellently, while underlining the tortured soul of Jacob.

In the role of the eponymous Jacob, Tim Robbins is emotionally powerful and devastating. He elicits sympathy for Jacob and the nightmare he is put through, and the audience feels the same way. As emotional as Robbins performance is, he also embodies the character physically. His movements are awkward and gawky due to his tall frame, his bespectacled appearance makes him look like a young boy and his expressive face is a marvel at conveying Jacob’s plight. In short, Robbins delivers powerful work of deep emotion and clarity. Elizabeth Peña smolders as the sexy but concerned Jezzie, whose name seems very appropriate given the biblical parallels of the story. While her sexuality is showcased often here, Peña gives the character a sense of mystery and fear as she watches Jacob’s slowly fall apart. Danny Aiello makes a mark as the almost angelic chiropractor who gives Jacob an important piece of advice in his search for answers, while Matt Craven is enigmatic as someone who knows more about why Jacob has been receiving these visions.

A deeply unsettling movie of horror and emotion, Jacob’s Ladder is simply an unforgettable movie.