Once the contract is signed, Milos begins trying to get back into shape for the imminent shoot. And once the shoot begins, Milos quickly realizes whatever it is they are working on is well outside the realm of his previous work. The first scene they shoot is uncomfortable but appears to be setup for the storyline of this “artistic pornography,” in which Lejla plays a nurse at an orphanage who introduces Milos to pre-teen Jeca (Andela Nenadovic) before Jeca’s mother storms in and drags her away. After this first day, the situations in which Milos finds himself become increasingly disturbing very quickly, and he decides to bow out of the film. In response, Vukmir gives Milos a glimpse of what he has gotten himself into– a film of an act so repulsive and unimaginable that it makes Milos physically ill– and before he knows it, Milos wakes in his bed four days later with blood all over him and only hazy, fragmented memories of what has happened in the intervening time. He returns to Vukmir’s house and finds a pile of videotapes from which he tries to piece together what he has done and what has been done to him.
At a surface level, A Serbian Film has the look and structure of a slick thriller. In many ways, this is the film Joel Schumacher’s 8mm threatened to be: an in-depth, seriously disturbing look at illegal underground pornography. The content of the film– again, even in its edited form– is far more graphic and unsettling than anything a major Hollywood studio would imagine ever putting on the screen, but that is only the most obvious place where the similarities to familiar horror films and psychological thrillers end. From its title, it seems clear that the filmmakers intend A Serbian Film to be a commentary on the state of things in their country. Vukmir makes a speech that suggests that pornography is the backbone of the Serbian economy, and that the country is a “nation of victims.” Whether this is meant literally or metaphorically is unclear, but A Serbian Film is certainly not short on subtext. It could be anything from a critique and warning about a society immersed in pornography and becoming increasingly desensitized to a commentary on the exploitation of a struggling working class by those with means that are utterly impossible to reach to those born without privilege.
If any modern film was screaming for extensive supplemental features to help explain its filmmakers’ intentions, it’s A Serbian Film, and so it comes as a huge disappointment that the U.S. release is completely bare bones. Viewers will have to seek out interviews with the filmmakers on their own to get a peek inside what the filmmakers were trying to convey with the film’s graphic, nauseating content. In any case, there is no denying that A Serbian Film is a formidable piece of art, a film that suggests its characters exist in a world where even death is not the end of their exploitation at the hands of the rich and powerful. Like the similarly notorious Deadgirl, I would hesitate to actually recommend A Serbian Film to anyone, but it is unquestionably one of the most harrowing, devastating and powerful films that I have seen in any genre in recent memory.
Serial Kaller (2014)
Originally published on Film Monthly 28 January 2016
Before Serial Kaller even starts, it helpfully gives viewers a warning. The logo for Loaded Film, one of the production companies who made the film, includes the slogan “for men who should know better.” If you feel like that applies to you, heed the warning: you should know better than to sit through another low-budget slasher. Maybe you were lured in by the fact that the film stars cult film legend Debbie Rochon. Maybe it was the promise of titillating content. Or maybe the British accents in the trailer convinced you that Serial Kaller would be more than just another slasher movie. But you should know better. Especially if you’ve already seen Trevor Matthews’s GirlHouse, of which Serial Kaller feels like a much less interesting replica.
BabealiciousTV is a hybrid web video and sex chat line, an operation run out of an abandoned former film studio with some camcorders, computers, and minimal “bedroom” sets. It’s run by “producer” Jack (Stuart Brennan), who spends most of his time either yelling at people or masturbating in his office over vandalized pictures of his female employees. This is showbiz, sort of, so naturally there’s plenty of drama between the ladies behind the scenes. Tonya (co-writer Dani Thompson) brings her little dog Tiffany to work with her, which rankles Lucy (Suzi Lorraine). Lucy and her girlfriend Frankie (Jessica Ann Brownlie) work in a separate studio from the others and already don’t get along with them. Claudia (Lucinda Rhodes) is the daughter of a rock star who just took the job to make money after he cut off her allowance, and she and Tonya cruelly tell club waitress Stephanie (Debbie Rochon) that she should audition for a part at Babealicious with Jack, knowing he’ll reject her because the “cougar look isn’t really in right now.” Thankfully, somebody starts killing all these awful people.
As mentioned previously, one of the most glaring problems with Serial Kaller is its uncomfortable resemblance to GirlHouse. That film follows a young college student who takes a job living in a house with a bunch of other cam girls, and a stalker manages to track down its location and find them. Serial Kaller is more of a “murder mystery,” though, with its killer’s identity not revealed until the finale. Where Serial Kaller really comes up short is in its characters: there is absolutely no one in this film for the audience to identify with. Except Rochon’s character, they’re virtually all mean, vapid, self-centered monsters. This is a common miscalculation among independent horror films, and it’s honestly sort of infuriating to see yet another example of it. Since the vast majority of the unsympathetic victims here are women, Serial Kaller comes across as exceptionally misogynistic, reaching a nadir in a scene in which a character is drowned in a dog’s water bowl. It’s just more ugly, horrible things happening to more ugly, horrible characters.
Getting into more of the most worrisome content in Serial Kaller would require spoiling the identity of its killer, although anyone paying attention to the movie is going to guess who it is very early on. Suffice to say standard-issue misogyny is not the only problematic tradition the movie inherited from the worst of its predecessors and seems more than happy to perpetuate. For a movie about people involved in sex work, Serial Kaller is oddly chaste, displaying tons of cleavage but only one topless woman during its entire run time. Even more odd and is what appears to be something that is supposed a sex scene between two characters who are more or less fully clothed. Anyone looking for titillation will probably be sorely disappointed, but there are certainly buckets of fake blood thrown around for the indiscriminate gore fan. There’s nothing here that horror fans haven’t seen countless times before, done considerably better very recently. In other words, there’s not really any compelling reason to give Serial Kaller any more of your time than you’ve already spent reading this review. If you didn’t know better, you should now.
Sex World (1978)
Originally published on Daily Grindhouse 10 February 2015
Director Anthony Spinelli was responsible for some of the best films of the golden era of American hardcore cinema, and when the Vinegar Syndrome label first launched, they did so with a Drive-In Collection double feature of two Spinelli films, Expectations and Confessions. Vinegar Syndrome has since released several more of Spinelli’s films in the Drive-In Collection and in a Peekarama double-feature, but one of his all-time biggest hits recently got a deluxe Blu-ray treatment: Sex World (1978). Inspired by the 1973 sci-fi hit Westworld (which was written and directed by Michael Crichton), Sex World is a prime example of how adult cinema could explore different concepts and potentially difficult material that mainstream films wouldn’t touch, and how it could do so in a cinematically interesting way. It’s a far cry from the lazy “parodies” that adult video production companies pump out these days.
Sex World opens with a large group of people climbing on board a bus that will take them to the titular resort for a weekend in which they are free to explore their ultimate sexual fantasies. As the tour guide explains what’s in store, the audience gets a peek into the private lives of the couples and single women who are on their way to Sex World.
We learn they’re all coming from very different places, and looking for very different things: seemingly happily-married couple Joan and Jerry (Lesllie Bovee and Kent Hall) are out to just have some fun, while decidedly unhappy couple Millicent and Ralph (Kay Parker and Jack Wright) are hoping to work out some of Ralph’s hang-ups that are killing their love life. Timid Lisa (Sharon Thorpe) can only connect sexually with men over the phone, and beautiful lesbian Dale (Annette Haven) wants to try making love with a man for the first time. Big-mouthed, bigoted Roger (John Leslie) gets what he thinks is the exact opposite of his ultimate fantasy in Jill (Desiree West), a beautiful and sexually aggressive black woman who quickly puts Roger in his place.
While the guests do interviews for the technicians to learn exactly what they need at Sex World, a control room of technicians watching from somewhere sends down orders and directs the sexual partners to the proper rooms. Spinelli includes humorous snippets of interviews with secondary characters whose fantasies we don’t see acted out, as well as including bits of interviews with people (almost exclusively men) who only think they know what it is they want. The women in Spinelli’s world know what they want, sometimes with astonishing specificity. Lisa asks for someone who will notice and be nice to her, but she’s also intrigued by Johnnie Keyes, star of Behind the Green Door, and ends up with an intriguing two-part fantasy (featuring Keyes as himself). Millicent is tired of Ralph’s creepy “mommy’s boy” shtick and wants a man who will treat her roughly (Joey Silvera seems only too happy to oblige). Joan has a surprising request that may send her home without a husband.
Sex World is a prime example of ’70s adult cinema at its best. There’s plenty of sex, of course, but there’s also thoughtful shading of character (helped by a solid cast), and an honest look at the emotional fallout of its characters’ sexual escapades. Even better, Spinelli is content to leave the viewer with a number of unanswered questions. This is one of the best films Vinegar Syndrome has released yet, and they went all-out with this special edition Blu-ray set. Restored in 4K from the original 35mm camera negative, this limited edition includes 3 discs: a Blu-ray including the film and extras, a DVD including the film, extras, and an alternate R-rated cut of the film, and a 16-track soundtrack cd. Other special features include interviews with actors Kay Parker and Joey Silvera and still photographer Joel Sussman, theatrical trailers for the film, and a reversible cover with alternate Italian artwork. The film looks and sounds fantastic, and the comprehensive package is a treat. This is one of the best releases yet from Vinegar Syndrome, and well worth special ordering.
The Silent House (La Casa Muda) (2010)
Originally published on Film Monthly 12 September 2011
Cheap digital cameras have helped lead to a boom in “found footage” horror films, but unfortunately they have led to little else but even worse sound than previous generations of no-budget movies. Uruguay’s The Silent House, on the other hand, takes one of the major differences between film versus digital cameras– the virtual removal of time limits on shot length– and tries to build an entire movie out of it. While it is certainly refreshing to see someone using the new technology to try something unusual, the film’s marketing unfortunately takes a lot of the fun out of it. “Real Terror in Real Time” is the tag line on the DVD case, and the hook for The Silent House is that it was purportedly shot in a single uninterrupted take.
Laura (Florencia Colucci) and her father Wilson (Gustavo Alonso) arrive at an abandoned house owned by Néstor (Abel Tripaldi) near dark one evening to stay the night and begin cleaning up the grounds early the following morning. Néstor opens the house and gives them a brief tour, warning them not to take the rickety stairs to the second floor before he leaves for town to pick up dinner for Wilson and Laura. Wilson prepares a seat for himself and immediately tries to go to sleep, while curious Laura pokes around the house a bit, at least until she hears ominous sounds coming from upstairs.
Once Wilson goes upstairs to investigate and even worse sounds follow, The Silent House is off and running, subjecting Laura and the audience to loud noises, things jumping out at her, creepy figures dashing past in the background, and every other trick in the haunted house book. Its structure makes for some serious tension, but as the twists and turns pile up, the audience is constantly reminded that we don’t know much of anything about any of these characters, and there is no time to form any serious connection with poor Laura. Despite this, the film does manage a few nerve-wracking sequences, at least on an initial viewing.
Perhaps the biggest problem with The Silent House is its “one take” gimmick. Once a viewer is aware of the claim, it is almost impossible to watch the film without mentally ticking off spots where a cut could be hidden, or to imagine how the camera must have been passed from one operator to another for a particularly tricky shot. While the film occasionally engages the viewer enough to forget the gimmick, it still automatically puts a distance between the viewer and what is happening on the screen. When you’re looking for the whip-pan that hides a cut, it’s hard to get too worked up about what’s actually happening.
The Silent House is an interesting little gimmick horror film, although its few surprises would no doubt be less effective after an initial viewing and its mysteries probably no clearer. The concept hook is so strong, though, that the film has already been remade in English by the co-directors of Open Water. It’s tough to imagine that the remake could be too different from the original, though, and most viewers will probably only want to visit The Silent House once. The subtitles make this one the clear choice– reading the subtitles helps distract from looking for those sneaky cuts.
Silent Night (2012)
Originally published on Film Monthly 4 December 2012
Looking back at the original Silent Night, Deadly Night, it’s difficult to imagine that anyone could have taken the film seriously at all. It’s even more difficult to think that anyone could be genuinely offended by it– despite some nasty moments, the film is basically a ridiculous parody of the very idea of a Christmas-themed slasher movie. This weird semi-satirical tone is part of what has given the film its cult status, and the concept of remaking a film that already feels like a parody of itself is tough to grasp. Fortunately, the results are better than anyone could have anticipated.
Deputy Aubrey Bradimore (Jaime King) is drafted to work the Christmas Eve patrol in her small town when one of her fellow deputies fails to show for work. Bradimore tries to talk her way out of it– this is her first Christmas after the death of her husband– but Sheriff Cooper (Malcolm McDowell) won’t hear it. Unknown to the police in this small Wisconsin town, a serial killer dressed in a Santa Claus suit has already started knocking off naughty locals, and shortly after her patrol begins Aubrey is involved in the most action her little town has ever seen. Too bad the number one suspect is a guy in a Santa suit, considering that the town Christmas parade has drawn dozens of Santas from all over, and while only one of them is a killer there are certainly a few that seem to have some serious issues.
Once Cooper realizes how dire the situation is, he becomes intent on locking up (or shooting down) a suspect as quickly as possible. A visiting Santa from out of town (Donal Logue) seems to be a likely suspect, as he has been terrifying the local children enough to have the cops called on him. Evidence at the scene of a slaughter at a motel points to local Santa Stein Karsson (Mike O’Brien) who recently lost his job, lives at the motel and spends his break time from the Santa gig downing booze. As the bodies pile up, Aubrey becomes sure that the killer is someone else, someone unfamiliar, but Cooper is more interested in making an arrest than being right. If she hopes to find the killer before he finishes running through his naughty list, Aubrey is going to have to do it on her own.
Silent Night is not a direct remake of Silent Night, Deadly Night, although it does take the 1984 film’s basic premise (a serial killer in a Santa Claus outfit) and repurposes some elements of the original storyline. Mostly, though, this is its own beast,
which is the best way to approach this kind of remake. The tone is somewhat comedic without being too goofy, although Malcolm McDowell goes over the top and then some as the blowhard Sheriff and Donal Logue has some great lines as the bitter career Santa. Director Steven C. Miller (The Aggression Scale) keeps the pace brisk, and the inventive kills are effectively portrayed with some great practical effects. While Silent Night may not be the weirdo classic that the original film was, it’s still a hell of a lot of fun and well worth checking out.
Silent Night, Zombie Night (2009)
Originally published on Film Monthly 11 October 2011
With a title like Silent Night, Zombie Night, one would be forgiven for expecting a zombie comedy set at Christmas time. The opening credits sequence– in which a used car salesman is attacked and zombified– would seem to reinforce this impression. Unfortunately, after the splatstick opening, Silent Night, Zombie Night settles in to a fairly standard “hole up and survive” zombie siege film. Which is a shame, really, as the opening scenes point to what could have been a pretty fun horror/comedy, and the finished product is more like a soap opera with some zombies in it.
Sarah Talbot (Nadine Stenovitch) is in her car, getting ready to leave her cop husband Frank (Jack Forcinito) when the zombie apocalypse begins. Not too far away, Frank and his longtime partner and best friend Nash (Andy Hopper) are having a difficult conversation at about the same time. Nash has put in for a transfer after Frank punched him at a party the night before. This conversation is interrupted by a sudden onslaught of zombies, and the officers head to the Talbots’s apartment to make sure Sarah is OK. Along the way, Frank accidentally shoots Nash in the foot trying to prevent a zombie from eating Nash’s leg.
The Unrepentant Cinephile Page 62
