So how did this film come to be known as Knock Knock 2? Well, there’s another long static shot late in the film where the camera is sitting on the floor and pointed at a wall, and for what seems like two entire minutes, we hear the sound of someone or something repeatedly knocking something on the floor, or the wall, or something. Presumably this is meant to build up suspense, but instead (like most of the film) it’s just irritating. It’s not hard to imagine a marketing department meeting where someone brings up that part and says “this could totally be the new Knock Knock movie!” And so it is.
It’s honestly kind of amazing that a studio as big as Lionsgate would put out something this cheap, but in that way perhaps Knock Knock 2 is more like the first film that it originally seems: it’s another instantly dated artifact of a time when even a good-sized studio would go to the trouble of releasing a “found footage” cheapie on physical media.
The Lady in the Car with Glasses and a Gun (2015)
Originally published on Film Monthly 15 April 2016
Occasionally a film comes along that feels almost like a parody of itself or its genre, and it takes a little digging to figure out if that is indeed the case. Take The Lady in the Car with Glasses and a Gun, for example. It’s an adaptation of a popular French novel that has previously been adapted three different times since 1970. This latest iteration was produced within the last few years but is defined by a pervasive fetishization of both 1970s culture and its female lead. It’s so concerned with lingering on the details of star Freya Mavor’s face and body, in fact, that eventually it becomes almost comical. Watching the film, it’s not clear whether it’s a nicely shot piece of exploitation meant to titillate or a critique of titillating exploitation. By its end, though, the answer seems to be the former. Whether that registers as an automatic dismissal or recommendation of the film will depend entirely on your judgment.
Dany Dorémus (Mavor) is a timid secretary with huge, gawky glasses and tightly pulled-back hair. She is introduced nervously looking at herself in the mirror of a restroom while two of her coworkers discuss a party they will be attending later that night. Dany seems interested, but is clearly too repressed to have much fun. When she returns to her office, her boss Michel (Benjamin Biolay) asks her to stay overnight at his home to type up a massive report that he needs to take with him on a business trip flying out the next morning. Dany agrees, thinking there’s more than business on his mind, but is disappointed: she spends the night typing and sleeping, then drives Michel, his wife Anita (Stacy Martin), and their 3-year-old daughter to the airport. Michel asks her to return the car, but on the way back from the airport Dany–after downing a few travel bottles of J&B–decides instead to “borrow” the car for the weekend. She’s never seen the sea, and it’s just a few hours’ drive.
What could go wrong? Plenty, of course, or we probably wouldn’t be watching her. And watch her we do: Dany, naturally, is supermodel gorgeous when she takes off her glasses and lets her bright red hair down. She changes into a sexy short dress and smoky sunglasses, and suddenly people think she’s an actress. She hits the road heading South, but soon begins to run into people who claim to have seen her the previous evening in the same dress and the same car. She assures them they’re all wrong, but after a while it happens so often she begins to wonder. Could it be possible that another red-haired woman in a distinctive American car (a green Thunderbird) drove the same route just yesterday? Or is it more likely that Dany, prone to flights of fancy in which she escapes the dull reality of her daily life, has had some kind of psychotic break?
The Lady in the Car with Glasses and a Gun is a throwback in a lot of ways. First and foremost there’s that leering camera and the hoary old trope of the woman who just needs to take off her glasses to become beautiful, but the plot hinges on Dany dealing with situations that have completely different implications than they would have in a 1970s film. The constant questioning by others about what is happening to her and her own recollection of events in her life smacks of gaslighting. Dany herself is a character that appropriately seems lifted from another time. She’s mousy but lusts after her married boss, repressed but prone to uncharacteristically impetuous action. The film is at its most interesting when what’s going on is unclear, but in its finale the viewer is given a complete explanation for everything that’s happened that like other aspects of the film is almost comically thorough. Director Joann Sfar gives the film a 70s look and tone with split screens and garish splashes of color, as well as a soundtrack mostly composed of songs from the 60s and 70s that help keep it humming along at a good pace. If you’re not too uncomfortable being so closely aligned with the male gaze for 95 minutes, you may have some fun with this film, but anyone looking for a new take on some well-worn material will be disappointed.
Last Caress (2010)
Originally published on Daily Grindhouse 25 June 2014
The last several years have seen an uptick in interest in the Giallo film, that peculiarly Italian brand of lurid murder mystery that often straddles the line between crime and horror genres. There have been a number of independent neo-Giallo productions since Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani’s Amer (the cult success of which likely helped kickstart this wave of neo-Giallo films) was released in Europe in 2009. Two of the most notable examples of this neo-Giallo wave are a pair of films produced by French independent producers Le Chat Qui Fume, Blackaria and Last Caress. These films are clearly made on the cheap, but they’re packed with gaudy style, bright colors, maniacal performances, thumping electronic soundtracks and gallons of blood. Last Caress has been released on DVD in the United States, giving American horror fans a look at what co-directors François Gaillard and Christophe Robin call “glam gore.”
After a very Bava-esque takeout opening that takes place in a gorgeous old manor, five people show up the following day for a weekend of drinking, partying, and playing a Vectrex that is mounted in an oven for some reason. Two big problems are standing in the way: First, a spike-gloved murderer is lurking in the house waiting to take out the partygoers one by one. Second, a bit of fun involving a séance has accidentally awoken an old evil in the house, a malevolent force lurking in the shadows and on the verge of gaining enough power to return to the world of the living and wreak vengeance on whoever is unlucky enough to be in the way. Who—or what—will survive the weekend, and will we get to see them topless? The answer to the second part of that question, at least, is “very probably.”
Last Caress is a wildly entertaining exploitation throwback, taking cues from Giallo and 80s slasher films to deliver more than enough eye candy to satisfy just about any horror fan. The film was shot on a Canon 5D Mark II, a high-end consumer DSLR camera used for a number of smaller independent productions since its introduction to the market, and the directors embrace the soft-focus digital look. There are plenty of beautiful candy-colored compositions throughout Last Caress, but at no point does it look like film. Directors Gaillard and Robin are much more interested in delivering the gory goods and re-creating the tone and atmosphere of their inspirations than in replicating the look of those films. It takes a bit of getting used to while watching, but ultimately it’s refreshing that they didn’t go the route of digital “film” noise to give Last Caress a classic slasher/Giallo feel.
Instead, the co-directors rely on actually replicating the things that gave those films such a huge audience of fans in the first place: flashy camera moves, buckets of gore, and plenty of flesh. At 72 minutes, the audience doesn’t get to spend much time with any of the characters, but that’s probably for the best since they are largely just cannon fodder. We get just enough setup to get their relationships with each other before they start getting brutally knocked off, each kill done with excellent practical effects. The filmmakers are not shy about mixing the gruesome violence with blatant sexuality, giving Last Caress a much more authentic (-ally uncomfortable) 1970s vibe than any “emulsion scratch” digital video effect ever could. This movie is all about set
up and payoff, with a distinct emphasis on the latter. When the séance leads to a re-imagining of the “13th Punishment” scene from Norifumi Suzuki’s School of the Holy Beast (in which a nun is whipped with thorny Climbing Rose vines), it’s time to the audience to throw their hands up. Whether that’s in frustration or in “yesssssssss, this is completely ridiculous” excitement for the rest of the movie will depend on the individual viewer, but if you’re a regular reader of Daily Grindhouse, you probably have a pretty good idea on which side of that divide you will fall.
Last Caress is a great neo-Giallo/slasher hybrid that will delight virtually any horror fan. It’s fast-paced, nice to look at, has a killer soundtrack and great practical effects, and establishes its co-directors and production company as talents to keep an eye on in the future. It may be pure empty calories, but it’s more pure, unpretentious fun than almost any other independent microbudget horror film in recent memory.
The Late Night Double Feature (2013)
Originally published on Daily Grindhouse 5 June 2014
Since 2006, Minnesota-based filmmaker Christopher R. Mihm has released a new feature film every Spring. Inspired by the films he enjoyed with his father George, Mihm’s films are replicas of 1950s-era horror and science fiction films, with titles like Cave Women on Mars and Attack of the Moon Zombies that tip off potential audiences to exactly the kind of film they’re in for. Unlike Larry Blamire, who mines similar territory, Mihm’s films are not meant to be parody or satire. They are earnest attempts at re-creating the style and tone of the films to which they pay tribute. For 2014, Mihm has made his most ambitious film yet, The Late Night Double Feature. As the title suggests, it’s a Grindhouse-style double feature of two films as they would have been screened at a drive-in back in the 50s: X: The Fiend from Beyond Space and The Wall People.
In X: The Fiend from Beyond Space, the crew of a spaceship is wakened from LD-sleep a decade earlier than their mission required when the ship is caught in the gravitational field of a rogue planet. They discover the remains of a creature that has crash-landed and brought it on board the ship, excited to make such an incredible scientific discovery. Unfortunately, the visitor isn’t quite as dead as it appeared, and when it wakes up, it is very hungry. With the ship stuck in sleep mode and the captain out of commission, it’s up to a few brave crew members to track down the monster and destroy it before it kills everyone on board the ship, but when they learn it can take the form of any of its victims, how will they know who to trust and who wants to eat them?
The Wall People is the story of scientist Barney Collins (Douglas Sidney), who calls two of his colleagues to visit his home after years of isolation following the death of his wife and disappearance of his son. Collins has discovered that his son was taken through the wall of his bedroom by some force with advanced technology that he has replicated, and plans to use it to go through the wall to wherever this force is and bring his son home. Doctors Gabriel (James Norgard) and Edwards (Michael Cook) suspect that their old friend has gone off his rocker, but when Collins shows them the portal works, they agree to help him. Unfortunately for Barney, the thing that took his son has more tricks up its sleeve than just some advanced technology. Can they save his son in time, or will the Wall People continue their reign of terror?
Each of the two halves of The Late Night Double Feature runs around 40 minutes, with a fake intermission in between and end credits to bring the film to a full running time of 90 minutes. The shorter run time helps with the pacing of the films, which has been improving in Mihm’s films since the fun but overlong Attack of the Moon Zombies in 2011. Keeping the run time of each one short also forces Mihm to use his time more carefully, and while there are recurring characters and many references to films and media both within and outside of the “Mihmiverse” (the affectionate term his fans have given the shared universe of his films), driving the story forward is the main focus. Mihmiverse fans will have to pay close attention to catch the in-jokes, but newcomers don’t have to worry about having to have seen all other eight films in order for these two to make sense.
This format also allows Mihm to experiment with form and style without wandering too far from his main goal of paying tribute to the films he loves. X: The Fiend from Beyond Space is pretty typical Mihm territory, but The Wall People approaches its story from a very unusual angle. Douglas Sidney is in almost every shot of the movie, and while he starts out as a sort of goofy “crazy scientist” type, his motivations help to make him a more interesting and sympathetic character. There are also some elaborate effects in The Wall People, including a pair of impressive stop-motion monsters, and the film is more genuinely creepy than anything else Mihm has done to date. The Late Night Double Feature is Mihm’s most accomplished work to date, and is a perfect entry point for anyone curious to jump into the Mihmiverse.
Laurence Anyways (2012)
Originally published on Film Monthly 8 October 2013
It is impossible to discuss the films of Xavier Dolan without acknowledging the fact that he is incredibly young. His debut feature, I Killed My Mother, played the Cannes Film Festival Directors’ Fortnight when he was 18 years old. His latest film, the gorgeous, heartbreaking, and epic Laurence Anyways is finding its way to home video release in the United States in the year Dolan turns 24. Three films into his career as a filmmaker may be a bit early to be throwing around words like “masterpiece,” but if any film (and filmmaker) merits the hyperbole, it’s this one.
Literature teacher Laurence Alia (Melvil Poupaud) decides on his 35th birthday to do something he has wanted to do since he was a child. He decides to become a woman. Needless to say, this comes as a shock to his girlfriend Fred (Suzanne Clément), who nonetheless decides to support Laurence’s decision. Less certain is Laurence’s relationship with his parents: his mother Julienne (Nathalie Baye) is not pleased, and refuses to let Laurence discuss the matter with his cold, distant father. Laurence’s relationships with Fred and his mother form the backbone of the story, which follows them for a decade starting from the late 1980s.
Running nearly three hours, Laurence Anyways also calls to mind Paul Thomas Anderson. While Dolan does pack Laurence Anyways with a number of interesting supporting characters, his focus is more narrow than Boogie Nights or Magnolia. The audience spends a lot of time with Laurence and Fred in particular, and the two leads both give amazing performances. It is impossible not to be deeply attached to these characters by the end of the film, a heartbreaking payoff that is well earned by Dolan and his leads. In addition to his focus on character, Dolan shares with Anderson a penchant for magical realism (a sudden indoor waterfall, an already-iconic scene with Fred and Laurence walking down the street with brightly colored clothing raining down around them) and a defiant streak. In a world where everyone is transitioning to widescreen televisions, Dolan has shot Laurence Anyways in a square aspect ratio (1.37:1), perhaps as a nod to classic cinema or possibly just to annoy people watching the film at home on their HDTVs.
Curiously, Laurence Anyways is being released by Breaking Glass Pictures, a company whose roster is primarily made up of LGBT genre and documentary films. Hopefully the film will find its audience through home video and VOD release in the States, as it is unquestionably one of the best films of the year. Dolan has created a gorgeous, exhilarating, heart-wrenching epic with a spectacular cast and an excellent soundtrack. This is absolutely required viewing for any serious cinephile.
The Lazarus Effect (2015)
Originally published on Film Monthly 19 July 2015
Mainstream American studio horror is in a bit of a slump. Other than the divisive Insidious films, the only established modern franchise that’s still a going concern is the Paranormal Activity series (and that’s slated to end with its upcoming fifth installment). Meanwhile, the studios keep pumping out cheap “found footage” horrors in hopes of capitalizing somewhat on that franchise’s popularity while much of their other output is usually on par with competent but forgetta
ble PG-13 exercises like last year’s inexplicable box-office hit Ouija. Arguably the most successful genre production company currently working in mainstream American film is Blumhouse, which was launched with the success of Paranormal Activity in 2009 and have since released hits like Insidious, Sinister, and The Purge. Blumhouse has also produced some more unusual and generally less financially successful films like The Lazarus Effect, which was released in January of 2015 without much fanfare but is unique enough to stand out from its contemporaries.
Eva (Sarah Bolger) is hired to document the experiments of Frank (Mark Duplass) and Zoe (Olivia Wilde), who lead a team of young university researchers investigating ways to help revive coma patients. Their work has revealed an unexpected side effect of the treatment: it seems to be able to bring the dead back to life. The team successfully revives a dead dog, although its behavior is odd and it undergoes unexpected physical and neurological changes after its return. Shortly thereafter, the lab is shut down and the team’s work is seized by the new owners of the company funding their research. Frank decides that the only way to prove they invented the process is to return to the lab and replicate the experiment with Eva filming before they are completely locked out. But with the clock ticking and everyone in a rush, Zoe misses a safety protocol and is electrocuted during the procedure. Frank snaps and decides to use it to bring Zoe back to life, despite not knowing the effect the process might have on a human. Zoe returns, but she is changed, and she uses her newly acquired telekinetic abilities to trap the team in the lab and hunt them down. Will she kill them all, or can they find a way to stop the powerful evil that has returned from the other side?
The Unrepentant Cinephile Page 41
