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Movies (Indie)

Naprata (2013)

NaprataZombos Says: Good

So much for swearing off found footage horror movies. When Mladen Milosavljevic messaged me on Facebook offering his movie, Naprata, for review, I could have declined but I didn’t. I’m more open to watching foreign horror movies because their tempo, their tone, and their cultural nuances tend to make them more interesting and less standardized than the American made fare; at least when they are at the beginning of a potential franchise cycle anyway.

Ad-libbed dialog, the use of a non-professional Canon camcorder, and a simple storyline setup, all combine to make this hour-long movie about local legends and a clear lesson in what you shouldn’t do when told, repeatedly, not to do it an effective little chill.

There’s a silent demon we see briefly; enough to know he’s badass as hell. There’s also an odd, matter of fact attitude conveyed by the local villagers about the demon and his good and bad sides: a yes-he’s-real-but we’ve-learned-to-live-with-him-around-here attitude that is either intentionally directed or accidentally produced from the ad-libbing, but either way it works to create the necessary should we or shouldn’t we situation for the newsteam from Belgrade.

The movie is in need of trimming–the interview with Kaleja (which is the actor’s name)–goes on a little too long. Also needed was a less shaky-cam approach: the premise has a seasoned newsteam going around interviewing people about violence against women. I would expect an experienced news cameraman to set up his framing better than how the camcorder is utilized here, especially when filming people around a table where the framing would be less mid-shot and close-ups–causing a lot of unnecessary panning back and forth to each person speaking–and more wide-shot with a 3 to 4-shot framing, smoothly combined with zoom-ins for dramatic effect where appropriate.

What’s not needed is better acting. It’s natural and near cinéma vérité flow here is provided by Baco (Marko Backovic), Ivana (Ivana Bogdanovic),  the strange and yet inviting Guardian of the Cemetery (Dusan Colakovic), and everyone else in this micro-budget, three-day, exercise in minimalist horror.

The Professor (Branko Radakovic) is even stranger and less inviting, and we never fully understand his intentions. He refuses to talk about violence against women, sees cats that aren’t there, and knows way too much about local lore. The newsteam goes to him to continue their interviewing in the Serbian Village where Kaleja hit his mother with a tray. It is Kaleja’s bad behavior, now very popular on FaceBook, that brings investigative reporter Ivana to the village. Ivana is serious, but her crew, including Backo who pees in odd places (he must be the producer) aren’t that enthusiastic until the Professor detours their investigative reporting with tales of local vampire lore. Ivana loses control as Baco and her shaky cameraman insist on meeting another odd pair of villagers who tell more tales, of a demon called Naprata. And, oh yes, you can easily summon him with little food offerings or an evil task. But you must be absolutely quiet or he will not be a happy camper, okay?

Any horror fan will know how well that goes over.

Death Tube (2010)
You Are What You Watch


DeathtubeZombos Says: Good (but ponderous)

I’m not sure why I chose Death Tube: Broadcast Murder Show (aka Satsujin Douga Site, 2010) to review for The Moon is a Dead World’s 15 for October series ; I must be a masochist. Japanese horror movies can be pretty taxing on your stomach as well as your critical nerve.

Surprisingly, this one wasn’t all that stomach-churning, and the only nerve-racking thing, really, is the close to two hour runtime. Trimming is called for. It took me two tries before I could finish watching it. And I
fast-forwarded to sprint toward the end because director Yoshei Fukuda takes his ever-loving time to tell his story. There’s a leisurely television style pacing here, although you wouldn’t get many sponsors wanting to sell their products through this one. Gore’s over the top when it does appear, but otherwise there’s not much gore here. Go watch Tokyo Gore Police if you’re looking for gooey, chewy mincemeat special effects smorgasbord.

That aside, there’s something akin to a bitter aftertaste you come away with after watching 8 people (actually 7, since one gets killed early, to get things off to a fast start) working hard together at staying alive by solving ridiculous puzzles or silly games. You only see people working together in zombie movies (at least early on), Saw movies, and Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (which didn’t help much there, either).

Fans know that camaraderie in horror movies is not used as often as it should be in the dramatic scripting department; usually it’s more like everybody for himself, which easily bringsto mind the shooting fish in a barrel metaphor  since that’s what happens; you get to watch each victim killed in unpleasant
ways, one by one, more expediently because they don’t stick together.

That’s the modus operandi here, too, although one smart guy implores the group to cooperate so they can ALL stay alive and complete the lethal games by cooperation (hula hoop twirling, Rubik cube-like scrambling, nail driven under fingernail—okay, I admit that one hurt just watching it), but no one listens; or maybe listens with one ear while the other is busy not listening.

It’s not clear if cooperation and teamwork will keep anyone alive, however, there’s a banner or two that hints at it—a lesson to be learned, perhaps?—but then the evil mastermind behind this SEO-driven Death Tube website tells them–in a really annoying game show host sort of voice–only one survivor is
allowed. But even that’s iffy because if anyone survives, the show would be hard pressed to go on. There are laws against this sort of thing, you know. Sure, they’ll allow Miley Cyrus to twerk and jerk a wrecking ball, but damned if they’d cancel the killing on Death Tube because somebody complained it was real.

Hosting this Wheel of Unfortunate game show is an evil mastermind, some anonymous person dressed in a yellow kawaii bear costume; cute, cuddly, and packing heat. His Papa Bear persona has a Mama Bear to assist and they goof around while others similarly dressed, outside the games, are making sure Death Tube’s ratings aren’t impeded by police seizures or astute viewer discretion.

Pretty soon you will begin to question why no one’s going for Papa Bear. It’s 7 against his one gun when a few times there’s clearly a go-for-it moment; but no one goes for it. You also start to wonder why no one watching this outrageous show on the Internet is Googling this website to find out more about it or protest how vile it is, or sharing YouTube best moments exposing it for what it is. Is DeathTube telling us we’re that stupid now because of the incessant crap we’ve come to love on the Internet?

You may come to realize that either everyone invovled here is either very bad at showing motivations, or very good at playing their roles as absurdist theatrics–and why aren’t you seeing that? Or maybe there’s some nihilistic or existentialistic  theme being explored by the director ?

I simply couldn’t tell. Maybe it’s a Japanese thing?

Instead we see the usual disfunctional relationships all around and the typical smart, dumb-ass, and screaming-mimi characters alternating between winning the game and questioning their participation in it, ignoring all common sense or humanity in the process, and back to winning focus on winning the game and screwing everyone else.  Costumed death-pranking is all the rage these days. You’ve got those animal-headed guys in You’re Next and The Strangers,  those creepy masked assailants in The Purge, and no way can you ever forget those horn-masked guys with aprons in Hostel.

Is Death Tube run by a cult like the thuggees in The Stranglers of Bombay? Are avid YouTube or Apple viewers acting like a cult? Is all this online ad hoc choppy video making us loopy and socially outcast while thinking we really belong?

Just what is Fukuda implying here? Or is he implying anything? Maybe the budget’s a factor, or his upbringing, or he’s just experimenting with the lighting and an uncle had this great warehouse space free for a weekend, so why not shoot a quickie?

Or are the purpetrators of Death Tube a bunch of bored kids out for a thrill like in Them (aka Ils? Or maybe Papa and Mama Bear are teaching their website viewers a punitive lesson no one lives to learn from like the ones taught in X Game and Saw? Or are viewers of this torture-death website being sucked in
like those who watched the torture-death website in Feardotcom (2002), perpetuating the madness because they accept it blindly?

One thing is certain: if you dare to watch this movie you may find yourself the next morning in one of those little budget comfort rooms, screaming your brains out for help while thoughtless, cruel, and useless comment threads from viewers to your plight egg you on to death.  There’s nothing like having trolls, moles, and dweebs giving you their wisdom, observations, and advice when death is inches or seconds away, right? How many times have you gone to the web to find answers only to discover how profoundly stupid some people really are?

If you read the reviews on this one, it’s mentioned that it’s a Saw rip-off with little to show for it. Some reviewers even cite Cube and Hostel to draw parallels to all the torture-porn horror dynamics, but generally poo-poo the storyline without much thought. But there’s more going on here and that’s what’s engrossing. Like those unfathomable pachinko parlors and the wild, alluring, colors and noises of Akihabara, you get sucked in watching the victims play games while being watched by–us?

When done it doesn’t gell to a clear message of intent. The best assessment you’ll find is Isugoi’s review by Miguel Douglas, which questions the balance between the predicament the “players” find themselves in and the implications of cultural commentary for it. When Facebook decided to show people getting beheaded again, for real, what did you feel or think?

Or didn’t you feel or think about it at all?

Death Tube is so downbeat you feel you should be more concerned with what’s happening and who it’s happening to, but the direction is emotionless to a fault, not giving us any clues as to which way to feel or think. Maybe that’s the point: that all this voyeuristic absurdity leading to futiliity, seen without humor and emotion, is a warning. That we are what we watch, and what we watch is also watching us. 

Sort of ruins your day, doesn’t it?

John Dies at the End (2012)
No Spoiler There

John-dies-at-the-end-movie-image
Zombos Says: Very Good

Major spoiler here, sorry, but John (Rob Mayes) doesn’t die at the end of John Dies at the End. He actually shuffles off his mortal coil somewhere in the middle. But being under the influence of the mystical “soy sauce” does have its perks: he can make phone calls from the afterlife, no cell carrier needed, and he can see forwards and backwards and slantways in time, which can be a head trip in itself for a guy who’s already a few Froot Loops short of a full bowl. For the rest of us, better pay attention because linear is not a working adjective here.

Also out of step is his partner in supernatural investigations and fumigations, Dave (Chase Williamson), but Dave’s more practical. He changed his last name to Wong so he’d be harder to find. Until the soy sauce chooses him. The drug either likes you or kills you, and that’s on a good day, but it seems to have a grand-scheme-plan in mind for John and Dave. With all the time-tripping, reality-tripping, and dimension-tripping going on, they have their hands full and need all the soy sauce and dumb luck available to stay alive, even if they’re dead now and then. A garden shed full of weapons and other useful artifacts in their fight against the weird incursions into their small Illinois town provides additional help. So does the ability to see things out the corners of their eyes, like big long-legged bugs clinging to ceilings,  when nobody else can.

Think Stoner movie like Altered States, but instead of isolation tanks or cannabis smoke, the highs come from soy sauce, a mind-expanding, reality-trashing, hypodermic-delivered drug that’s a little X-Files black goo, a little Prometheus‘s black goo, and icky black goo in general, but with more short hairs and a meaner attitude spiking it. It can even morph into flies to make you say ahh and take your required dosage when needed.

Don Coscarelli directs this wild trip of a movie by capturing the wild trip of the novel’s events and temperament, visually and semantically, although obfuscation by everyone involved is the norm for both novel and movie. Lots of quirky visual effects like flacid doorknobs you’d go blind touching, a smart one-eyed monster with a lot of tentacles and world-domination on its mind, flesh eating gnats with human hosts on their hive-collective mind, and an absurdity-breaching, brilliantly executed, animated cartoon gorefest,  showing what happens when giant spiders meet unlucky people, stretches this budget’s limitations to the max.

Loony tuned? Yes. But Coscarelli knows how to mix practical and computer effects for that cult movie affect with whatever small budget he’s given and still emote effectively through all the zaniness. One wonders what other mysteries, left unexplored, might have dazzled us with him given a little more production pocket change. Yet more money gets siphoned into empty tanks like Texas Chainsaw 3D, while creative edge-pushers like Coscarelli  get bubkiss.

Talk about absurdity.

Where the goo comes from is a mystery, but Robert Marley (Tai Bennett), the Jamaican with the drugs, taps into it with bad results. Once people start tripping with it, doors to other dimensions open up and things that were waiting for the opportunity can now step over the threshold. This is the premise of both novels, John Dies at the End and This Book is Full of Spiders. Thwarting the monstrosities plotting our demise is not only John and Dave, but super psychic and gadfly to the other-worldly menace, Dr. Marconi (Clancy Brown). He can  destroy freezer meat monsters with a phone call, and he handles Russian weapons of mass destruction, needed in a timely fashion, with ease. Dave’s one-handed girlfriend Amy (Fabianne Therese) also plays a key role by using her missing hand.

Everything’s told in flashbacks as Dave meets up with Arnie (Paul Giamatti), a corduroy suited reporter looking for an interesting story, in a chinese restaurant that’s empty except for the limping waitress and one other patron. Arnie doesn’t buy what Dave’s selling until he learns how to look out the corner of his eye.

Alien nastiness, alternate Eyes Wide Shut worlds, a truck driving dog, an attacking mustache, and the inimitable Paul Giamatti make for a fun time in this cult movie. If Coscarelli doesn’t get more money or the go ahead to do the next novel in the series, This Book is Full of Spiders, I’m going to be very disappointed. Horror movie romps like this are too few and too far between.

Storage 24 (2012)
Alien Storage Hunters

storage 24 on imdb
Zombos Says: GOOD (but last third of movie keeps if from scoring only FAIR)

I don’t understand why the insectoid creature (gooey droppings, menacing mandibles)  in Storage 24 sticks around. After a military plane crashes near a 24/7 storage building in London and it escapes from its cargo container, it stays in the building. Power fluctuations cause lights to go on and off and the electronically controlled gate to drop down, trapping people inside, but the creature bends metal and pummels mortar into powder fairly easily, so I’m at a loss to explain why it sticks around to attack these people, one by one, in tried-and-true horror movie sequencing (or should I say black-and-blue sequencing to be more accurate?). Of course I realize you wouldn’t have much of a movie about a monster in a storage facility if it did leave, but I’d expect to see a little more motivation built into the storyline. Critics like me can be annoying like that.

Of those who want to leave the building, there are: Charlie (Noel Clarke) and his recently ex-girlfriend Shelley (Antonia Campbell-Hughes); Charlie’s best friend Mark (Colin O’Donoghue); and Shelley’s best friend Nikki (Laura Haddock). Also trapped and providing the real potential for red-shirt landing party status, shown in gory closeups, are the storage facility’s front office crew and a creepy unshaven fellow hiding out from his wife by living in a storage unit on the fourth floor. Sure, Charlie and friends can get killed, too, but they need to stick around for most of the running time to keep us invested in the drama, right? Besides, we all like Noel Clarke because he’s been on Dr. Who, so there’s a good reason not to piss us fans off by killing him willy-nilly. He didn’t get the girl in Dr. Who, either, so why beat on the poor guy?

While the creature stays in the building, the men driving in the black SUVs pulling up outside, shortly after the plane crashes, don’t bother to.  Director Johannes Roberts and writers Clarke, Fairbanks, and Small keep the budget well under budget by moving monster, people, and calamity between the storage building’s narrow hallways and tight units. There are no expensive military ops to gung-ho through the storage units with automatic weaponry blazing and macho quips of scrappy do’s and don’ts while they fight and flight. Instead, Charlie  alternates between feeling sorry for himself, being mad at Shelley for ditching him, and working up his anger because she’s tossed him out of her life. It takes him and the others a fairly long time to realize there are more important things in life, like staying alive, especially when screams ensue and people go missing.

As we stay inside with them and the creature, half-way in I wished the writers had seen some American storage unit reality shows like Storage Hunters or Auction Hunters (note the dramatic use of “hunters” in each title).  The UK writers would have realized the wild and dangerous things to be found squirreled away in storage that could provide more fire-power, or survival assurance, for Charlie and company. After Charlie and Mark knee and elbow their way through HUGE air vents (yes, another independent movie takes the shortcut and budget-wise approach for moving characters around cheaply), they only find a crowbar, a few fireworks, and a battery-operated toy dog. Their finds are put to very good use later on, but I was hoping they’d find a grenade launcher or mini-canon. Given the crazy things these shows find in storage units here in America, it’s a let-down to find the Brits are so damn sensible. They should have shot this movie in Texas.

Two-thirds in, the movie finally moves from Charlie’s relationship troubles amid intermittent terror to their creature relationship troubles and continuos terror. Shelley is wrong about Charlie: he may not make her laugh anymore or be very exciting, but he knows how to pluck up when death is a storage unit or two away.  A few well-timed, deadpan delivered, quips from Charlie perk up the otherwise by the numbers action, and the camera’s movement is handled well, especially when the practical makeup and CGI effects mingle. Everyone does the usual dumb-ass actions when confronted by the usual horror-movie-unknown to keep us properly stupefied or mortified.

Not sure if the ending is a good idea, as it cuts into “first” ending (the resolution of the soured relationship and creature menace), but it could make for a fun sequel if the right budget is allocated. Some will lambast Storage 24 for its heavy-handed male-centric view on the relationship breakup, though there is a nice twist with who actually turns out to be the unexciting/you-don’t-make-me-laugh-anymore type. It certainly isn’t Charlie.

Crawlspace (2012)

crawlspace movie IMDB
ZC Rating: Good

I disagree with a few of the online critics that have reviewed this movie. While they cite likely plot inspirations from sources like Scanners, and Aliens, and Event Horizon, I would instead point to movies like The Power. In that 1968 movie (starring George Hamilton), members of a research group are killed off, one by one, through telekinesis, by someone within the group. Justin Dix, the director of Crawlspace (this is his first full-length movie), sort of uses the same scenario, just not as straightforward or as suspenseful.

Being a special effects supervisor, his direction perks up when the effects come into play, but you do notice a difference between those moments and moments without special effects. The dramatic interactions drag on a little too long, the recriminations and rebukes come a little too easily and are a little too volatile, and having an elite military unit, highly trained for special ops, so easily revert to behaviors usually exhibited by mercenaries is lazy scripting. So is having big guys squeezing through narrow air vents, that perennial movie and television trope that trims budgets and expediently moves people from point-here to point-there.

But this movie is called Crawlspace so the air vents make more sense here; and Dix, for his first go at a complete story does a competent job of telling and showing it. And there’s a killer gorilla; in my playbook you can never go wrong when you toss in a killer gorilla. What’s missing from Crawlspace is more surprises like that, and naming the mysterious woman “Eve” (Amber Clayton), who has amnesia and a nasty surgical scar on her head, is a giveaway to what’s coming.

Deep underground, in a maze of pathways reminiscent of those plastic mice habitats, military units are dispatched to handle a major crisis unfolding in a secret research facility. One unit comes across Eve, who doesn’t remember much, but unit leader Romeo (Ditch Davey), recognizes her as his dead wife (now not so dead, of course). Between bullets and running from danger the soldiers unravel into a frenzied mess of nerves and fears–the drill for horror movie dramatics. Eve begins to remember and Romeo fears that the most. We find out why Romeo is so guilt-ridden, but that’s after a fanatical scientist (what goes for mad these days) provides some explanation. Another fanatical and more dangerous scientist completes the story. Both scientists are treated to special effects scenes that are mind-blowing (for them) and gruesome for us. When Eve fully remembers, matters become much worse. The ending isn’t, so there’s plenty of room for a sequel.

While I agree with a few of the online critics that the movie rehashes the same hash, I disagree that this makes it a bad movie. It’s cooked with enough satisfying action and pulp science fiction thematics to make it worth watching. I just wish there were more killer gorillas. Now that would have been great.

A courtesy screening copy of this movie, on disc, was provided for this review.

Buried (2010)

Zombos Says: Excellent

Buried is a minimalist horror movie with maximum terror.  Big screen, little screen, this one will make you squirm.

Chris Sparling’s story and Rodrigo Cortes’ direction emphasize what we hear over what we see, although what little we see is horrifying. We cough out the stale air, cramp up our tense limbs, and feel the desperation, the isolation, and despair Paul Conroy (Ryan Reynolds) is being smothered in, minute by minute, as he uses his one hope at hand, a cell phone. We see and hear him, but we only hear the others from the cell phone: the FBI, the family members, the corporation he works for. They are the people he desperately calls from the Blackberry entombed with him. They aren’t very helpful.

Every voice, every response to his growing frustration, seems to be heaping more dirt onto his coffin. Those voices aren’t soothing. They say things that are, given Paul’s dire situation, ludicrous or infuriating or unsympathetic. It’s another day in Iraq and Paul’s another civilian buried somewhere in the ground, alive, held for a ransom that no one’s willing to pay. And we stay with Paul the entire time. No flashbacks, no chipper moments away from his predicament to ease the tension.

Movement within the wooden box is limited of course. Paul’s got a Zippo lighter, a cell phone using Arabic, and time is running out as fast as his oxygen is. Above him the military is pounding the ground harder with bombs, sending sand into his cramped space, cramping it even more. No one seems to share Paul’s ire, or fear, or sense of urgency. When he makes calls he gets voice mail prompts, he’s redirected to others, and he hears a lot of stay calm, be patient recommendations. Watching this movie, you realize how intrinsically stupid it sounds every time you hear “stay calm” or “be patient” uttered in a movie.

Maybe finding the exposed nail in his coffin, to tear through the bonds on his wrists, could be called a plot convenience, but that’s the only one. And while I’m not sure how many truck drivers in Iraq carry Zippo lighters, I will say it’s now my favorite example of seamless product placement in a movie. Both the Zippo and the Blackberry are actors along with Reynolds. Both play crucial roles in shedding light and insight in and around Paul, his predicament, and who the real criminals are. These aren’t terrorists he’s told, they’re criminals looking for money. That doesn’t lessen his terror because the criminals’ requests to make phone videos still terrify him.

Increasing his terror are his company’s personnel director who does something so outrageous, yet so possible (I’m betting anyone working in a corporation for a long time will agree with me), and a hostage negotiator who’s not overly reassuring. He can’t even remember who he’s saved. He does eventually come up with a name, but don’t forget it because it comes up again at the end, when time runs out.

This is the first time I’ve awarded classic status to a movie this early because it takes the common horror theme of being buried alive beyond its usual limits. It leaves its audience with questions and no answers, and a discomforting feeling it’s too possibly real. I can say two things with certainty after watching Buried. I’m going to be carrying a Zippo lighter from now on and I’m waiting to see what else Rodrigo Cortes and Chris Sparling dig up. Those two scare me.

Vanishing on 7th Street (2010)

Vanishing on 7th street ZC Rating 3 of 7: Good (but wastes precious time)

Rosemary: We can wait till morning.
Luke: You sure there’s one still coming? 

The problem with Vanishing on 7th Street comes into view at a critical moment, when time is of the essence. In a movie that plays its shadows menacingly long across city walls while Detroit’s streets go empty after almost everyone has inexplicably disappeared into an unnatural darkness–leaving only their clothes behind–and where light is the only defense but its slowly dying out, the handful of confused survivors talk too much. Nothing they say is important enough for them to take the time to say it,  not when menacing things prowl all around them, inches away, waiting for the light to go completely out.

Here’s what I mean. I’ll give you the setup first. Luke (Hayden Christensen) and Rosemary (Thandie Newton) have left Paul (John Leguizamo) and James (Jacob Latimore) in Sonny’s Bar. The gas generator powering the bar’s lights is failing. Luke insists on going for the one truck in all of Detroit that still has enough juice in its battery to shine its headlights, but not enough to start the engine. He figures if they push it to the bar, he can charge the truck’s battery off the generator just enough to turn over the engine and drive them out of the city. Luke and Rosemary head out, armed with flashlights, a bunch of those crack-and-glow sticks people wear on Halloween and at the circus, and a sense of urgency: they need to make it back to the bar as fast as possible because the gas generator is on its last gasp and James, a twelve year-old kid minus his mom, and Paul, the theater projectionist who’s suffering from shock, will be sucked into pitch blackness if they fail. And with the generator dead, there’s no way to charge the truck battery so they can make their escape on wheels.

Sounds intense, doesn’t it? If you’ve seen Darkness Falls, you know how nerve-racking fighting the darkness can be for movie-people when it fights them back.

Luke and Rosemary hustle to the truck. Their feeble light is flickering. The light in the bar is flickering. The shadow people popping up all around them, straining at the edges of Luke’s flashlight’s fading glow, are almost able to wrap their long, shadowy arms around him and Rosemary. Shadowy images of gigantic hands reach out for them. Ominous, vaguely human silhouettes chase after them. Barely making it to the truck in time, they snap on the headlights to dispel the shadows. Time continues to run out. They now need to quickly push the truck back to the bar before its battery dies and the headlights go out; before the bar’s lights go out. They push hard.

Half-way there, Luke and Rosemary take a break to rest and mope. A Walmart 15-minute kind of break. Granted Luke has a swollen ankle, but frankly, it won’t hurt if he fails.

They sit down by the car and ponder. Apparently the moping session they argued through before, when they first met in the bar, when Rosemary stumbles in looking for her kids, almost shoots him, and then blames it all on God’s wrath on all of mankind for sinning, didn’t waste enough of their precious time. Situational credibility gone. Setup tension broken.

Brad Anderson and Anthony Jaswinski trip over their own two frames. It’s the proverbial ‘kill the moment’ moment. In dire situations, people don’t think and chew on their words or thoughts slowly. If you or I were surrounded by piles of clothes formerly filled by people, and surrounded by an evil darkness reaching out to grab us from all the unlighted nooks and crannies, we’d–I have no doubt–be busting a move like our lives depended on it. I’d think even Sarah Palin would have to agree with this one: you betcha!

Vanishing on 7th Street is still a good movie. It just, oddly, ignores common sense to give character depth at an inopportune time, and when we don’t need it. Up until then, the enveloping creepiness, the unknown evil intention of it all, and the Lovecraftian doom that came to Detroit is palpable. It is a movie that glues our nerves to jangle because what’s happening is so alien and everyone is so screwed because of it. You can’t help but hope for the best, even knowing the worst has to happen. Anderson and Jaswinski hold our attention and bring it deeper and deeper into the mystery.

Until they fumble and kill the moment.

Monsters (2010)

Monsters2010Zombos Says: Very Good

 [Samantha Wynden]: Doesn’t that bother you? That you need something bad to happen to profit?

[Andrew Kaulder]: What? Like a doctor?

 

You would be hard-pressed to pick out the budgetary restrictions in Monsters. Director and writer Gareth Edwards maintains an understated production with his actors (locals found on location), camera work (handheld, or propped up with makeshift stands), and events (the aftermath of fighting the monsters becomes more important than the actual battles). People, locations, and events are used so well it keeps this love story, this conflict story, this tentacled aliens bigger than a bread truck story, within a science fiction zone you rarely see shown on the big screen. It’s thoughtful, lingering, doubtful and certain, all in one modest story because the monsters are not the main point of the invasion; it’s how we, the humans interacting with them, deal with it.

Gas masks, military missile responses to monster incursions into populated areas, a massive–and useless–American-made wall erected at the border to keep the monsters in Mexico and out of the U.S., and people becoming acclimated to infected zones and a disrupted way of life provide the local color. You get a sense the monsters aren’t so monstrous when they’re not attacked, and a feeling the American response to the NASA-caused debacle is overkill and ineffective. Monsters can be viewed metaphorically, but Edwards opportunistic storyline (scenes and actors coalesced around daily opportunities during filming, according to Wikipedia), sets a tone showing the situational reality instead of indicting it.

Photojournalist Andrew Kaulder (Scoot McNairy) is looking for a big break. He wants pictures of monsters, not ones of little kids killed in the fighting. He’s already taken enough of those. Getting in the way is his boss, whose daughter, Samantha Wynden (Whitney Able)–note the upper-crusty sounding name–is in need of an escort to get her out of Central America and back home for her wedding. A wedding she’s not enthusiastic about. She even barters her expensive ring for passage after the ferry leaves without them. He has doubts, she has doubts; it’s doubtful they’ll find an easy way home.

They don’t. Missing the ferry, and with the last train out blocked by the annual monster migration, they must travel through the Extra-Terrestrial Infected Zone, or stay put for 6 months. Along the way, they meet mercenaries, monsters, death, and their true selves. It’s all very much like an Ingmar Bergman movie but without Max von Sydow, and directed a tad more lively. Tantalizing sounds and glimpses of the large creatures (looking like upright land-squids that glow) pepper the tension. There’s something beautiful and alarming about them. They leave small, pulsating, glowing embryos on trees. A quiet encounter at a deserted gas station between two monsters reveals more about the creatures, and Andrew and Samantha as well.

A fast-paced, night-vision point of view, military encounter with a frenzied monster in the beginning comes full circle at the end with a military rendezvous at the gas station. In-between, the journey taken is as revealing to us as it is them. Monsters shows us how much power an independent movie, made on a tight budget, can achieve.

Godspeed (2009)
In Search of Intensity

Godspeed A small picture vibrating with grand passions, “Godspeed” transforms the vast lawlessness of the Alaskan wilderness into a playground for damaged souls and Old Testament mischief. Jeannette Catsoulis, New York Times)

Once again, Ms. Catsoulis’ review is perplexing to me. Interesting, but very perplexing. (Zombos)

ZC Rating 2 of 7: Fair

Twice I started watching Robert Saitzyk’s thriller Godspeed and twice I stopped at the same scene in the movie. I wondered why. It’s when faith healer Charlie Shepard (Joseph McKelheer) and Sarah Roberts (Courtney Halverson) have awkwardly met and each wants the other to go in a different direction, which is either to find something or to lose something, or maybe both. Intensity should be radiating from them but it doesn’t and I couldn’t pin down why. Maybe it’s Saitzyk’s direction, which lingers too long on scenes, trying to give them importance the story and its characters can’t muster, or maybe it’s McKelheer’s struggle (he co-wrote with Saitzyk and Knauf) with overly contemplative dialog inadequate for fully expressing his struggle with his inner demons. There’s a weightiness to Godspeed that doesn’t add up given its story, and for a thriller–I wouldn’t call Godspeed a horror movie–it never finds the intensity it needs to involve us, or justify its artsy spiritual despair spilling over into bloodshed at the beginning and the ending of the movie.

Given the beautiful but lonely vista of the Alaskan location, Saitzyk doesn’t allow his tormentors or their tormented much interaction through metaphor or religious iconography with the wilderness surrounding them–and in them; instead, he fills the empty spaces with drawn out, self-conscious talkiness, where everyone moves hopelessly around a lot  pontificating on their desires and sins without making us feel they’re sharing the burden with us. Neither are their actions embellished or even made insignificant by God’s intrusive knack with nature all around them. This leaves the movie’s underwhelming religious-poking bland to watch, forcing more of our attention on a weak story just not engrossing enough to hold it, which, given the soul-searching and ulterior motives abounding at its heart it should. Godspeed doesn’t let us feel the philosophical ardor it so heavily tries to concern us with.

Godspeed While Shepard’s family is tastefully being killed, seen between glimpses of the serene aurora borealis lights and his tryst with a prostitute, the emotional impact of the murders falls flat. Moving too slowly, back and forth, between the lights, the murders, and the prostitute’s consternation over his need for her when he has a beautiful wife at home, Saitzyk’s monkish pacing dulls the intrinsic horror and, worse, fails to build momentum beyond Shepard’s retreat into the wilderness.

We see him months later, all Grizzly Adams and living in a trailer home, when Sheriff Mitch (Ed Lauter) pays a visit to apprise him that nothing has been discovered concerning his family’s murder. Mitch asks about his questionable past, the one that brought him to the small town. Saitzyk and McKelheer beat this scene to death while Mitch waits for Shepard to vent his frustration and anger. And vent it some more. At the local diner, Sarah finds him blocking out lines in his Bible with a Magic Marker. When she ventures closer, he explains what he’s doing: he’s blocking out the lies of God. Sarah needs him to return home with her so he can save her brother Luke (Cory Knauf) from himself. Luke hates Shepard. Luke wants to start his own little world of salvation for his followers. Too much time is spent listening to Luke preach to his followers and showing closeups of their faces as they intently pay attention.

Exactly what Shepard is retreating from is not fully explained. It’s possible he really does have a gift buried in him for faith healing; but it’s also possible he’s a charlatan who really does want to heal the sick. Maybe he’s a bit of both: a faith healer who’s lost his gift for healing and wonders why God has forsaken him. Does he blame himself? Does he blame God?  His inner turmoil starts well before his wife and child are murdered, and his inability to heal has leached out to overwhelm Sarah and her brother.

The both of them are in a soul-searching freefall after the death of someone close and important to them. Both blame Shepard, but for different reasons. Sarah is drawn to him both romantically and spiritually. Luke is drawn to him but with a different reason. All three suffer from their inner demons, but given all of this inevitable tension from unfulfilled love, seething hatred, and constant religious questing, the monotone direction keeps it corked, the superficial story keeps it bottled up, and the acting keeps it on the shelf, never threatening to become more than something interesting to look at but not to partake in.

Max and Me Look At Experiments in Terror 3

Experiments in Terror 3 “Striking for the third time, Experiments in Terror 3 unleashes another hallucinogenic orgy of the uncanny, the dreadful, and the macabre.”

Well, perhaps…

“Employing a mesmerizing montage of terrifying tropes and fiendish footage, our kino-coven conjures more than a bewitching hour of visionary cinema. Pounding a stake through the heart of genre convention, this shocking program expands the cinematic language of fear, breaking the chains of narrative logic and leaving only the black void of the infinite unconscious.”

We’ll be the judge of that…

Max and me chat about our likes and dislikes with Experiments in Terror 3. TK from Love Train for the Tenebrous Empire was scheduled to join us, but she ditched at the last moment. Smart move given our level of conversation. We did copiously borrow from her review, though, as she is much more articulate than either of us.

me: I looked for eit3 on imdb, but didn’t see it.

Max: To hell with the corporate fellatio that is IMDB! (Raising clenched fist in the air) 😉

me: Swish! and another proletarian-despised head hits the basket. Hey, no fair, you’re using emoticons! I can barely type.

Max: YOU can barely type? I don’t even exist! I’m a roomful of monkeys–one of us at a time accidentally producing coherent sentences!

me: Well, then send a few of them over to help me out. While I’m waiting let’s discuss the first film about Richard Chase.

Max: You know, when I was told that the first film on the review screener I was going to get was a Dick Chase film, I thought it was going to be a different sort of film!

me: Long pause as I look up Dick Chase…

Max: Aw, Zombos, you don’t look up *subtext*!

me: Ohhhhhh. I did find Deck Chairs, though.

Edges of Darkness (2008)
Zombies, Vampires, and Saviours

Edges of Darkness Zombos Says: Fair

Jason Horton and Blaine Cade’s Edges of Darkness is the kind of low-budget arthouse film that, given its uneven acting and shoe-string budget production values, is still important to watch for those flashes of good writing and good direction that shine through. In three separate stories following people dealing with a zombie apocalypse in their own ways, God and Devil, vampires, and organic computing provide the unusual themes wrapped around this flesh-eating grue.

While the stories do not intertwine, they are intercut, which at times jostles the pacing and dramatic continuity. Tying them together is the gated community locale, an unrelenting threat from zombies lumbering just outside, and the need for satisfying hungers that go beyond flesh-munching closeups and dripping gristle.

Edges_of_darkness Even in the least engrossing story there is a wonderful and unexpected flash of macabre poetry shown when Dana (Alisha Gaddis) dreams she is dancing with a roomful of zombies. It is compelling, like the dance of the dead in Carnival of Souls and the dancing dead in Robert Aickman’s short story, Ringing the Changes, because it plays with our sense of propriety. It is unsettling enough that the only person who listens to her is Morris (Wayne Baldwin) the zombie–out of reach, of course–outside her bedroom window, while her husband writes endlessly on his computer. Has he gone mad from the stress? Who does he think will read his story? We never find out, and instead watch as he eagerly plugs in the weird computer chip from DHell. When the lights go out, it starts searching for an alternate power source, sending out wires (tentacles) that first power-up from a house plant, then a mouse, and eventually you know what.

While Dana yearns for romance, her husband Dean yearns for backup power. Uneven acting almost cripples the pent-up tension and despair here.The climax is predictable, but the relationship between Dana and Dean (Jay Costelo) provides a refreshing psychological perspective seldom seen in more mainstream fare. We need to explore more atypical relationships like this one in the cinema of the undead, and devote time to the frustrated, freaked-out, living, coping with the voracious dead, instead of the over-used gut-churning closeups of zombies feasting.

Interview: Midnight Syndicate’s Edward Douglas

Director Edward Douglas kindly steps into the closet to talk about his upcoming film, The Dead Matter, which tells the story of a vampire relic with occult powers that falls into the hands of a grief-stricken young woman who will do anything to contact her dead brother.

What makes The Dead Matter a horror film that fans will want to see?

My favorite horror films are the ones that incorporate all the visuals and atmosphere with a strong script and story. That’s what we have with “The Dead Matter.” This movie has lots of twists and turns along with some unorthodox takes on traditional horror themes. Mix that with the FX guys at Precinct 13 doing their thing, 70’s horror buff DP, Alex Esber, crafting the look, and some great performances by our cast and you got something special.

The icing on the cake for me is that although there are very few original themes out there, we do manage several memorable moments that I think will stick with audiences for a while afterwards. Music is one of the most important elements for me so Gavin Goszka and I (Midnight Syndicate) will be working overtime to make sure the score is something really special as well.

I love horror films. Between Midnight Syndicate and Midnight Syndicate Films, it’s not only my job but my hobby as well. Although I always find something enjoyable in each film I watch, I’ve been disappointed as of late – often it just comes down to the script. Especially with the larger budgets, it just doesn’t feel like enough time and effort is being put into that area of the production. Co-writer Tony Demci and I spent a lot of time tweaking “The Dead Matter” script into the kind of horror movie we would like to see made. It’s a film that I think will resonate with a lot of horror film fans – a good time.

You did an earlier version of The Dead Matter in 1996. Did you approach this version differently? If so, tell us how and why you made those changes.

My goal from the beginning was to use the original version as a springboard for a remake with an actual budget. The upside to it taking this long is that we’ve had over ten years to think about what we liked and didn’t like the first time around. I’ve had ten more years of life experience, ten more years of watching even more horror films, reading and writing more stories, and co-producing all of the Midnight Syndicate horror music CDs. It’s all had a positive impact on how I approached the new version of the “The Dead Matter.” The production concept hasn’t changed drastically; it’s just executed a lot better in the script.

Having an actual budget allowed us to work with a talented cast and crew and achieve a look that wasn’t even fathomable for us in ’96 when we shot the film for $2000 on Super VHS tape. One of the biggest decisions was to shoot the new version on film. In the end I wanted to see “The Dead Matter” looking the way I remember movies looking while I was growing up. Even with all the post-FX available there’s just something about film. Alex and the lighting crew really delivered the classic look I was going for.

What challenges did you face during production, and how did you overcome them?

In our second week, Mansfield, Ohio (the city we were filming in) got hit with a storm so large that it flooded everything and rained us out for one of our nights of filming. When we woke up that next morning the entire lower part of the city was underwater (including part of our backup set). It even made the national news. It was the most rain the city had seen in over 20 years and one of the rainiest Augusts in Northeastern Ohio history (about a third of our film is exteriors so we had our backs to the wall). Producer, Gary Jones and UPM, Philip Garrett assembled an incredibly talented crew, though, that did what veterans do – make things happen in less than ideal situations. We pulled together, switched scheduling around, made up for the lost time, and got back on schedule that following week. It was challenging but we got all the scenes covered and I didn’t have to compromise the script at all.

As far as other challenges go, shooting on film always presents a fun and exciting array of potential disasters and challenges. I’ll leave it at that for now.

Now that you’re in post-production, what are your plans for distribution? When will we get to see The Dead Matter?

I think we’ll be ready to begin screening “The Dead Matter” next summer. Although I don’t have a fixed release date, one date that is set is August 1st. That’s when Midnight Syndicate’s soundtrack to “The Dead Matter” will be available in stores. The movie will be released afterwards.

Music is an important part of your life. You composed the scores for The Dead Matter, Sin-Jin Smyth, and The Rage. You also founded the band, Midnight Syndicate. What similarities and differences are there between composing music and directing a film?

In both directing and composing you are telling a story, only you are using different canvasses. The composer uses music and the director uses more visual elements. If you are handling both those elements I think you have the opportunity of achieving a special cohesiveness between the two.

There aren’t a lot of similarities. As a composer, it’s your job to try and get into the head of the director so that you can use your music to accentuate and elevate their story. You are only a part of the machine – and the focus of your work has to be what’s best for the movie and the director’s vision.

As a director you are running the machine – controlling, in varying degrees, all the facets of the production, including music. The end-product is in your head. The challenge is communicating what is in your head to all the different parts of the machine so that it can become reality on screen.

Why direct? Aren’t you busy enough?

One of my main goals has always been to direct motion pictures, starting with “The Dead Matter.” Whether its music or film it’s all about telling a story – horror and the supernatural has been the way most of my creative endeavors have drifted towards.

I combined my love of filmmaking and music with the first Midnight Syndicate concerts I produced in ’98. The concerts were a blending of a live band scoring original films that I made along with live actors and animation. It was a rewarding and learning experience but not the same as producing and scoring a full-length feature. Midnight Syndicate does keep me pretty busy, but what I’m doing with Midnight Syndicate Films directly relates to my work with the band, so I see this as all one big intertwined project.

What are your favorite horror and non-horror films? Why?

That’s always the toughest question. I guess I’d say among my all-time favorites that I can think of now are: “Aliens,” “Exorcist,” “Shining,” “Night of the Living Dead,” “The Old Dark House,” “Black Sabbath,” “Jaws,” “The Ring,” “Sixth Sense,” “Dracula (1979),” “Pet Sematary,” Coppola’s “Dracula,” “Evil Dead,” most of the Hammer catalog, “House of Usher,” and “Psycho.”

As far as non-horror films go, a lot of my theatrical training centered in comedy. I enjoy slapstick so I really love everything from the Zucker, Abrahams, and Zucker team, from “Kentucky Fried Movie,” to the “Airplane”s and “Naked Gun”s. “Ghostbusters” is one of my all-time favorites too: great concept, great script, and Sigourney Weaver.

What’s the one thing you really love about the horror genre?

There are so many directions you can take the genre in. Whether it’s providing an audience with strong visual elements or leaving it up to their imaginations to fill in the blanks, it’s a genre that sparks something inside of all of us creatively to some extent, I think.

Now what’s the one thing you really hate about the horror genre?

More of a recent phenomenon, same thing I’m hearing a lot – all these remakes of the classics. For me it points up my problem with mainstream horror and that is there is little to no focus on the script. In my opinion, strong visuals are part of great horror filmmaking but not the only part. Unfortunately I’m not in a position to say anything. “The Dead Matter” is technically a remake. Additionally, I’m
helping fuel the “remake machine” since I’m a huge fan of Rob Zombie and can’t wait to see what he does with “Halloween.”

What movie and music projects are you working on now?

It’s “The Dead Matter” 24/7 right now. I’ll begin editing this November, by February I’ll be starting on the score.