Martyrs opens with a young girl running from what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. The girl, Lucie, is found and taken to an orphanage. There she forms an uneasy bond with another girl named Anna. Anna becomes Lucie’s caretaker and is obsessively devoted to her. Time passes and the girls grow up together, but the mystery of Lucie’s kidnapping remains unresolved. After the opening scenes the film jumps ahead fifteen years to find Lucie (Mylène Jampanoï) out for revenge with Anna (Morjana Alaoui) her not entirely willing partner.
Whereas director Laugier’s previous film House of Voices was a more deliberately-paced and mannered ghost story, Martyrs kicks the audience in the teeth right out of the gate and almost never lets up. While the two films share a similar sterile look, the tone is completely different. House of Voices delivered gothic haunted-house chills with a surreal edge; Martyrs seems committed to seeing how far the audience is willing to endure the gruesome goings-on along with its characters. The present-day part of the film opens with a prolonged home invasion and takes several seriously bizarre twists as it hurtles toward its third act.
It’s exceptionally difficult to explain what’s wrong with Martyrs without giving away any of those twists. The twists themselves are a part of the problem– it seems less like Laugier is trying to shock the audience with left turns than that he’s just making things up as he goes along. There are some horror fans who are drawn to any film with a hint of intelligence, but too often that turns out to be simple pretension, and that seems to be the case here. Especially given the film’s ridiculous ending, which seems like an absurdly lazy cop-out given the hell the characters and the audience have to go through to get there.
But then maybe that’s the point. Martyrs is either a pointless exercise in audience abuse or an audience-baiting prank worthy of Michael Haneke. Regardless of how you look at it, Laugier has taken the concept of “torture porn” and given its audience what they want and then some. It’s the filmmaking equivalent of force-feeding, which seems an apt description on multiple levels. Whichever way one chooses to see the film, there’s no question that Laugier has created a singularly difficult picture. If that alone is worth it to you, I suppose that’s the highest praise I can give it.
Mega Python Vs. Gatoroid (2011)
Originally published on Film Monthly 16 June 2011
It’s always a tricky proposition when someone sets out to make an intentionally bad movie that’s also still entertaining. Often the results are embarrassingly unwatchable or– sometimes even worse– competent but not bad enough to really earn a cult reputation (see also: Snakes on a Plane). The SyFy cable channel has been making low-budget creature features since they spelled their own name correctly, but lately they’ve made a move toward embracing the camp factor of these direct-to-cable horrors by hiring out mockbuster studio The Asylum and Roger Corman to produce “giant monster” movies. While Mega Python vs. Gatoroid may not have as gloriously bizarre a creature as Sharktopus in a leading role, this Asylum production nonetheless features more than one titanic showdown: the one in the title, and the one between Tiffany and Debbie Gibson.
Each of these 80′s pop superstars was featured in their own previous SyFy films: Tiffany in Mega Piranha and Debbie Gibson in Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus. Someone must have decided to only way to up the ante would be to pit these two ladies against each other as a parallel to the giant monster action and– inexplicably– bring in Mary Lambert (Pet Sematary) to direct. Anyone not familiar with The Asylum’s previous productions might think hiring all these big names are what led to the hilariously awful CGI effects, but everyone else will know better.
Dr. Nikki Riley (Deborah “Debbie” Gibson) leads a team of animal activists who free snakes from captivity and set them loose in the Florida Everglades. The introduction of alien species begins to wreak havoc on the local ecosystem, and Ranger Terry O’Hara (Tiffany) sets out to find out why the alligator population has been drastically reduced. When it becomes clear that the snakes are killing the alligators, a harried O’Hara decides to help out in the reptile arms race by feeding some local gators an experimental steroid that causes unchecked muscle growth. Soon enough, it seems things are back to normal. At least until consultant Dr. Diego Cortiz (A. Martinez) discovers evidence that giant snakes are on the loose.
Most of Mega Python vs. Gatoroid consists of the story lines of each female lead as they move inexorably toward a climactic showdown at an Everglades fundraiser. Much of the leads’ dialogue consists of them yelling at each other and calling each other “bitch,” with occasional none-too-subtle references to their hit songs. While the ladies appear to be having a good time, this does get a little wearing after a while, so it’s a welcome change once the epic catfight begins and signals the movement of the film’s action from the Everglades to the city, where the giant snakes and gators go on a rampage that quickly reaches “Looney Tunes” levels of absurdity.
This last act is by far the best part of the film, but it’s all such goofy fun that it’s not hard to sit through to get to the good stuff. While it’s barely more than an excuse to play off the rivalry of its two leads, Mega Python vs. Gatoroid has enough moments of inspired mayhem to make it worth a watch for fans of intentional camp, although it’s probably not quite bad enough to become a cult classic. Maybe if they hadn’t sprung for Mary Lambert, it would have been a different story.
Mercury in Retrograde (2017)
Originally published on Daily Grindhouse 28 November 2017
Michael Glover Smith’s debut feature, Cool Apocalypse (2015), was an intimate black & white comedy/drama that followed two couples over the course of a single day that culminated in a fateful dinner date. It’s a warm, funny, and perceptive little gem, the kind of film that used to be a staple in the indie film world before digital production made it considerably easier to crank out cheap horror on a tiny budget. Anchored by four solid lead performances and some sharp writing, Cool Apocalypse was a fantastic debut feature for Smith. It also set a relatively high bar for where he might go next, and now his second feature is here to answer that question.
Mercury in Retrograde follows three couples at very different stages of their relationships: Peggy (Najarra Townsend) and Wyatt (Shane Simmons) have been dating for a few months, Isabelle (Roxane Mesquida) and Richard (Kevin Wehby) have been together for five years with no real commitment in sight, and Golda (Alana Arenas) and Jack (Jack C. Newell) have been married for ten years. Golda and Jack invite the other couples up to their remote cabin for a weekend away from the city, which will include a meeting of Jack, Wyatt, and Richard’s book club at the cabin while the ladies visit a nearby small town and scope out the dive bar that passes for nightlife there. The weekend starts off promisingly enough, but cracks begin to appear when the groups are separated early in the day before the book club meeting. When the evening split happens, the characters and their relationships are revealed to be much more complicated and difficult--and tragic--than they initially seemed, and by the end of the weekend they will all be irrevocably changed in some way.
Like Cool Apocalypse, Mercury in Retrograde is built on a rock-solid ensemble cast. This is an absolute necessity for a film like this, which consists almost entirely of lengthy dialogues between its characters. There are no car chases, explosions, or shambling monsters here, just a group of thoroughly well-drawn adult characters meaningfully interacting with each other. As fantastic as the whole the cast is, special mention must be made of Najarra Townsend and Alana Arenas for their excellent work in a pair of powerful and emotionally exhausting roles. The scene between Peggy and Golda in the small-town bar laying their souls bare to each other is simultaneously touching and harrowing, and neither of the actresses ever hit a false note. It’s an impressive feat both for the actors and for Smith behind the camera.
Trading in the classic indie black & white of his previous feature, Smith embraces vivid color schemes and long takes this time around. While nearly all of Cool Apocalypse took place in Chicago (and l
argely in one interior location), Mercury in Retrograde takes full advantage of its Upper Peninsula location and its gorgeous forests. Cinematographer Jason Chiu (who also shot Stephen Cone’s 2015 feature Henry Gamble’s Birthday Party) makes the most out of a wide array of exterior locations--woods, open skies, small town--and some precisely defined interiors including the previously mentioned dive bar with its nightmarish neon lights and the dim cabin where the men drunkenly discuss The Glass Key by Dashiell Hammett. While their observations tell much more about themselves than the book they are purportedly talking about, the dark corners around them underline those parts of their personality they would prefer to keep hidden.
Mercury in Retrograde is a deeply thoughtful, carefully observed drama with a roster of exceptional performances. By the time the credits roll, many viewers will probably find themselves unwilling to part with some of the characters to whom they may have grown attached. Smith and his collaborators have greatly expanded on the strengths of his first feature, creating a powerful ensemble character study about adult characters who feel (sometimes uncomfortably) real. It’s the kind of film that demands the viewer’s careful attention, and rewards it in spades. A fully-realized slate of grown-up characters is a rarity in films at any level, and that alone would set Mercury in Retrograde above many of its contemporaries. But it’s the powerful specifics of each character’s story that makes this something truly special, and a film that no serious cinephile should miss.
Microwave Massacre (1983)
Originally published on Film Monthly 19 August 2016
Thanks to companies like Vinegar Syndrome and Arrow Video, we are living in an unexpected new golden age of physical home video releases. Arrow has particularly stepped up their game over the last few years since launching their US branch, issuing an impressively varied slate of films from Japanese crime dramas to nearly forgotten American slasher classics on Blu-ray. Their work on restorations and their selection of films has been fantastic, so it’s something of a mystery as to why they decided to turn their attention to Wayne Berwick’s Microwave Massacre. Probably better known for its amazing VHS cover art than for being an actual movie, Microwave Massacre bucks the trend of Arrow uncovering lost classics by being one of the absolute worst films they’ve ever released.
Donald (Jackie Vernon, voice of Rankin/Bass’s Frosty the Snowman) is a schlubby construction worker whose shrieking harridan wife May (Claire Ginsberg) is starving him with her attempts at haute cuisine. All Donald wants is a burger, and one night after a few too many drinks at the local watering hole he comes home and accidentally kills May. Well, “accidentally.” He chops her up and then gets up for a midnight snack and accidentally ends up eating her hand. Well, “accidentally.” Suddenly Donald has a new favorite snack, and his co-workers at the construction site love it, too. Donald’s pleased with his newfound popularity, but he starts to feel kind of guilty that he has to keep murdering women and eating them for his own sexual fulfillment. In case it is unclear from this plot summary, the movie is supposedly a comedy.
The single biggest problem with Microwave Massacre is the fact that it feels obligated to remind the viewer of this fact every second of its running time. It’s constantly, aggressively, embarrassingly unfunny. This is basically a 76-minute “Take my wife, please” joke, except with cannibalism. Vernon desperately milks every line for all it’s worth and then just keeps going, eventually spending a good amount of his screen time directly addressing the camera. This has the rather unfortunate effect of making the film feel almost like a Michael Haneke-esque indictment of the audience as conspirator. Donald’s screwing hookers and then murdering them for snacks, and you allow it to happen by continuing to watch the movie. By the time Vernon utters the line “I’m so hungry I could eat a whore,” it’s too late to stop watching. You’re an accomplice now.
Arrow has inexplicably given Microwave Massacre the same royal treatment it gives every film it releases. The film has been restored in 2K from its original camera negative, and it looks a hell of a lot better than it ever needed to. The Blu-ray/DVD combo set includes a full-length commentary by writer/producer Craig Muckler, which somewhat unbelievably is not just Muckler repeatedly apologizing and expressing despairing disbelief that Arrow poured money and resources into saving this movie while countless others are lost to history. Other features include a 21-minute featurette that features interviews with Muckler, director Wayne Berwick, and actor Loren Shein, a trailer made for a previous DVD release (which refers to it as “the worst horror film ever made”), a photo gallery and the film’s original treatment and 8-page synopsis as BD/DVD-ROM files. Rounding out the package is the typically gorgeous reversible sleeve.
As a film, Microwave Massacre is as awful as Arrow’s last dozen releases are worthwhile. Maybe someone in accounting figured they were due to balance the scales or risk giving their fans an overdose of greatness. And as terrible as it is, it’s still encouraging that companies like Arrow are willing to dig deep and give weird stuff like this such a nice release. Here’s hoping the next movie they give this treatment actually deserves it.
Midnight Son (2011)
Originally published on Film Monthly 18 July 2012
Vampires are so hot right now, sometimes it’s hard to remember that they really belong to the horror genre. With Twilight bringing massive popularity to bloodsuckers on a scale never before seen, many horror fans are left out in the cold. This dichotomy is nothing new, though– the clash between the romantic and monstrous vampire types has been going on for ages. Still, when the vampire is in the spotlight as it is now, many horror fans long for something different. Fortunately, little films like Midnight Son come along and provide just that.
Jacob (Zak Kilberg) is a lonely security guard working overnight shifts and painting during his off hours. Jacob suffers from a rare skin disease that requires him to completely shun sunlight, his extensively scarred forearm a constant reminder of what happens when sunlight touches his skin. His paintings, almost exclusively of sunrises and sunsets, remind him of what he’s missing. As he approaches his twenty-fifth birthday, Jacob begins to develop symptoms of mysterious illness. A friendly Janitor (Tracey Walter) who works nights with Jacob suggests that because the body stops growing at twenty-five, Jacob is at the end of a process of transformation.
Jacob shrugs this off, but after meeting a woman named Mary (Maya Parish), he finds that his symptoms are becoming impossible to ignore. Worse, they’re complicating matters with Mary– Jacob has no idea what is happening to himself, and he’s worried it may be contagious. After a freak accident, Jacob finds some of his symptoms subside after he drinks blood. Soon, crosses paths with hospital worker Marcus (Jo D. Jonz), who catches Jacob trying to break into a biohazard dumpster. Marcus gives Jacob a packet of expired blood with the promise of more, but for a price. As Jacob becomes more desperate, his fate and the fates of the few people in his orbit become tightly entwined.
Midnight Son packs some big surprises, but it’s still very low-key, a claustrophobic story that focuses mostly on Jacob, his relationships, and his reaction to the inexplicable, impossible changes happening to his body. Jacob is in nearly every shot of the film, so it’s a good thing that Zak Kilberg gives an appropriately understated, sympathetic lead performance. Maya Parish is similarly great as Mary, powerfully attracted to Jacob but utterly uncertain of what she’s getting herself into. Finally, Jo D. Jonz effortlessly gives Marcus the right amount of amiability and danger, a very tricky balancing act. The film also looks and sounds great, and with the lead performances anchoring the story, Midnight Son is one of the best independent horror films (and certainly one the very best vampire films) to come along this year.
Mimesis (2011)
Originally published on Film Monthly 9 February 2013
It’s not unusual to watch a film and be reminded of other films that may have– or obviously have– influenced it. However, to be reminded of an influence and to actually watch a film where that influ
ence is actively woven into the fabric of the new film is rare. One of the reasons for this is that any majorly influential film is bound to be better than most of the films it influences, so it follows that if a movie is going to wear that influence on its metaphorical sleeve (or, more accurately, on a brightly-colored t-shirt with a huge logo), the audience is going to be reminded that they could be spending this same amount of time rewatching a better film. Mimesis is a textbook example of this phenomenon.
A group of seven fans from a horror convention are invited to a remote farmhouse for a party. The next day, they all wake up in different clothes and scattered in various locations. After nerdy Russell (Taylor Piedmonte) and abrasive blonde Karen (Jana Thompson) are attacked by a zombie in a graveyard, Karen finds her way back to the farmhouse where Russell’s friend Duane (Allen Maldonado) wakes up in a pickup truck. When they meet up with the others, it quickly becomes apparent to hardcore horror fan Keith (David G.B. Brown) what is happening: they are all dressed as characters from Night of the Living Dead, trapped in a farmhouse exactly like the one from the film, surrounded by shambling zombies.
The predicament is driven home by the fact that the television in the house periodically shows Night of the Living Dead either to echo what is happening in the house or to taunt the characters as tensions mount and nerves fray. Despite all the characters presumably being horror fans, only Keith has actually seen Night of the Living Dead, so several of the characters stumble blindly into unpleasant ends that could have been easily avoided if they had seen the film. Keith becomes a de facto leader of the group of survivors, intent on discovering who has put them all in this situation, and whether it’s really happening or if things are not quite what they seem.
The Unrepentant Cinephile Page 46
