House at the End of the Street: Tanks for the Mammaries

Somewhere up the road from the House on the Edge of the Park and just around the corner of The Last House on the Left, you will find the House at the End of the Street. I suppose if you were a little more optimistic, you could consider it the beginning of the street, but optimism isn’t a trait that will do much good for you going into this urinal stain of a film.    

Directed by Mark Tonderai, House at the End of the Street (or #HATES, if you’re a big Twitter user) is a psychological thriller starring Jennifer Lawrence as Elissa, a young woman with a voice so beautiful she sounds absolutely perfect whether she’s singing in the woods or a garage, but I digress. Elissa and her single, overprotective mother (played by Elisabeth Shue, who looks fantastic despite the tiredly written character) have just moved from the mean streets of Chicago to the not so mean gravel roads of some place in the woods. A place that, on the surface, seems safe, but little do they know that just four years earlier a little girl slaughtered her parents... in the HOUSE AT THE END OF THE STREET!

Being the new gal in the wooded ‘hood as well as being the lead singer in the sickest band in Chicago, Elissa is getting a lot of attention from all the boys, specifically a young loner type named Ryan (Max Thieriot). Ryan has a bit of a bad rep around town due to the fact that he is the oldest son of the people who were gruesomely murdered in the HOUSE AT THE END OF THE STREET! Worse yet, he still lives in the very house at the end of the street where his parents were killed, something that really ticks everyone off. Regardless, Elissa and Ryan hit it off, and it seems that all the negativity driven towards Ryan is unwarranted, so she’s all ready to drop her drawers for him at any minute. However, when your parents were slayed by your very own sister in the very house at the end of the street that you still live in, you are more than likely not to be trusted. Unfortunately for Elissa, this is the case.

It’s okay, though, because the power of song will protect us like a warm blanket on a winter’s day.

House at the End of the Street gets full use out of the word ‘generic’ in terms of storytelling and character development. In fact, it’s only a few dollars and a handful of good actors above a Lifetime movie, though at least most Lifetime movies can be pretty entertaining. While mostly a technically well-made film, hashtag hates is plagued by some horrific, random editing choices as well as strange attempts at stylized camerawork. I almost applaud the fact that there is an actual attempt at style, but unfortunately it’s as successful as me “attempting” to be Mr. Universe. The dialogue also shines about as brightly as sandpaper, as there are moments where characters barf out some utterly atrocious dialogue. One specific moment in particular is a scene where Elissa and her friend are talking about one of the boys in school:

Friend: “He’s a dick!”
Elissa: “He’s worse than a dick... he’s a dickhole!”
Friend: “Dickhole’s the new asshole.”

*laughter*

Me: “What the fuck.”

Moving on (and thankfully so), I feel as a member of society I am obligated to talk about one of the biggest stars of hashtag hates:

Elissa’s White Tank Top

The white tank top is THE perfect attire for the slightly dirty (but not, like, gross dirty), sweaty girl in peril, who also happens to have a very healthy amount of milk in the fridge. Oh, how the snuggly fit and slightly translucent fabric moves so gracefully around JLaw’s breasts as they swing around like a tilt-a-whirl covered by a tarp. It almost seems as if this wardrobe choice was intentionally exploiting her upper body... I mean, who needs good dialogue when you have nice titties in a tank?!

“Are you looking at my tits?!”

I’d #HATES to be so harsh on this film because it is at least bearable enough to sit through, but you still might be better off spending your time drinking toilet water. On the other hand, if you do decide to spend some time with House at the End of the Street, please feel free to try to beat my “I called the plot twist!” time of 4 minutes and 50 seconds.

The Tall Man: I Believe the Children Are Our Future

In the financially devastated mining town of Cold Rock, WA a community is plagued by the disappearance of numerous children, seemingly by the hands of a dark, mythical figure known as the Tall Man. As the town desperately tries to figure out where their kids have been taken to, a mother does whatever's in her power to get her missing son back, all the while unwittingly unraveling the truth behind the missing children, the Tall Man and an unexpected motivation that will throw a wrench into viewer's expectations.

Directed by French filmmaker Pascal Laugier, The Tall Man is a film that has sparked a small amount of debate from a number of people who have sat down to watch it. Naturally, The Tall Man hasn't called for the intense "discussion" that came with Laugier's previous film, 2008's Martyrs, for reasons that are obvious to anyone who has seen that film (and if you haven't, then please do). Regardless, before seeing The Tall Man for myself, I had read various opinions that ranged from people who either love or hate it, or others who really like the first half but disliked the second half and vice versa.

 

Since The Tall Man is filled with numerous unexpected occurrences (that's fancy talk for twists), I will keep this brief and say outright that I'm very happy that Laugier has been able to craft yet another film that is far from conventional. Naturally, as I've mentioned, this one has gotten pretty mixed reviews, but  there's certainly no denying that The Tall Man provokes a certain level of thought. The direction that the film goes in is basically impossible to predict, and I felt like I was never sure where the narrative could be going because it never once went where I thought it would.  

If there's a major theme strewn throughout The Tall Man, it is neglect. The neglect of children; the neglect of a town's communal, financial and physical structure; the neglect for one's own wellbeing and the wellbeing of those around them. This theme of neglect is given time to flourish as the unpredictably captivating story plays out, but it is only in the end that it's truly brought to the forefront, making everything that has come before it seem all the more clear.

Jessica Biel gives a very strong performance that grows deeper and more impressive as the film moves towards its unexpected, and possibly alienating to some, climax. It's her character that I believe shows Laugier has a thing for writing complicated female characters who are much deeper than they initially appear to be. Something else the director seems to be keen on is making a pretty gorgeous looking movie. Like Martyrs, The Tall Man is a finely crafted piece of cinema with a visual style that becomes increasingly more appealing as the story progresses towards its climax.

Being a huge fan of Martyrs, I'm not disappointing in The Tall Man, mostly because I knew there was really no possible way Laugier could do something quite like that again. Regardless, I do think he has brought something very interesting to the table with a film that will not only catch you off guard but will make you put your thinking cap on real tight. And for me, the mark of a strong film comes from the thought it commands from me afterwards, and with The Tall Man, my thoughts led me to enjoy the movie infinitely more than if I had simply shrugged it off and moved on with my day.

The Red House (1947): Trespassing into Womanhood

Based on the novel by George Agnew Chamberlain, 1947’s The Red House is, on the surface, a fairly straight forward thriller that focuses on the dangers of jealousy and the secrets and lies that can come from contained lust. The film stars legendary actor Edward G. Robinson as Pete Morgan, who with the help of his sister Ellen (Judith Anderson) has raised a girl named Meg (Allene Roberts) from an abandoned baby girl to a teenager climbing towards adulthood. Despite their unusual situation, their family unit is quite stable; however, things begin to change for the family when Mr. Morgan, who has lived much of his life as a cripple, decides to hire one of Meg’s schoolmates, a young man named Nath (Lon McCallister), to help with some of his daily choirs.

Nath is the kind of boy who could be considered a popular kid. A good-looking young man who has a lot of charm and as much tenacity to go with it. He has a bright future, he’s eager to work and he even has himself a very attractive girlfriend named Tibby (Julie London), who loves him as much as he loves her. His character greatly contrasts that of Meg, who is painted as socially inept, but for no other reason than she is simply a little shy and certainly sheltered. It is revealed early on that her odd family situation is cause for gossip filled whispers at her high school. The chit-chat is not necessarily a direct result of how she carries herself socially but more a result of her personal home life. Regardless, she is very innocent to the world in almost every way; it’s a characteristic that she exudes from her very being and how she presents herself.

While shy, Meg is at an age where naivety brings about an intense curiosity of the world outside of the one she has always lived in. It is this curiosity that is prodded by Nath who, after learning that the surrounding woods near the Morgan’s home is plagued by some sort of unnatural danger, decides to investigate. Despite the numerous warnings given by Mr. Morgan, Nath is driven by his own brand of curiosity, and Meg is quick to follow Nath in his quest to learn more about what wicked things haunt the woods and what answers lie within the Red House.

For much of the film, there is a bit of a power struggle between the persistent Nath and the adamant Mr. Morgan. Mr. Morgan constantly asks Nath to just stay away from the woods. But despite Mr. Morgan’s warnings of the danger they present, and regardless of the proper head that he carries on his shoulders, Nath is too stubborn and, to a point, too egotistical to listen. While Mr. Morgan is not at all okay with Nath’s persistence, he is more concerned for the safety of Meg, who he has clearly been protecting from the secrets of the Red House and possibly the real reason she is as sheltered as she is. Nath’s desire to explore rubs off on Meg, and for Meg this is more than just a little adventure, which is what scares Mr. Morgan most.

While there is much to be said story wise about director Delmer Daves’ The Red House, what makes it stand out as being more than your basic, albeit well made, thriller is the complexity of the characters. It’s what really sets the film apart, specifically with the characters of Nath and Meg, who carry a level of subtext worthy of completely overtaking my attention in this review.

The character I find to be most interesting is Meg, who is driven by a desire to learn about what secrets are being kept from her and how they might affect her past, and Nath is the catalyst that sets her on this path. However, this runs parallel to a budding sexual subtext, where Meg is not only exploring her past, she is exploring her own individuality both as a woman and as a sexual being. And again, Nath is clearly the catalyst in this situation, too.

This all plays right into Mr. Morgan, who clearly perceives Meg as a daughter and fears that she will be greatly hurt by what she can learn from the past. Despite the fact that he is basically only her caretaker, Meg looks at Mr. Morgan as a father figure, and she is very much treated like daddy’s little girl, regardless of whether she actually is or not. Meg is growing into a woman, and as is the case with almost every girl who matures into womanhood, she is gravitating away from someone who has been her protective father figure to someone who can give her more than fatherly love. Deep down, this is what I believe truly frightens Mr. Morgan about Meg and Nath's growing relationship.

While her budding sexuality is a clear subtextual character trait, Meg is never exploited in a sexual fashion or any fashion whatsoever. In fact, she remains pure sexually and, more importantly, as a character throughout the film. Meg's curiosity about her past and as a sexual creature is played off innocently, and when in contrast to the more outwardly lustful character of Tibby (Nath's girlfriend), her character’s arc and structure benefit from it. She becomes the character that the viewer (or at least me, to be more specific) and Nath come to fall in love with, and this is indeed a natural progression throughout the film.

With her expressive doe like eyes that feel as if they are staring directly into your soul with a loving innocence, Meg is a character who slowly takes over the film by becoming the character that the viewer cares about most. In my opinion, falling for Meg is a necessity for The Red House to be successful, and it gives the film a density that helps it be much more than a mere thriller. It's the story of a woman becoming a woman, on her own terms and without the constraints of authority.

The Hide (2008): Hidden Agenda

Based on the Tim Whitnall stage play The Sociable Plover, 2008's The Hide was brought to life by first time director Marek Losey. Staring Alex MacQueen and Phil Campbell, this UK production is set in one very small location and features only two characters, Roy (MacQueen) and Dave (Campbell), two people who, outside of these very specific circumstances, would never encounter one another in a million years.

When first introduced to Roy, he is presented as a straight laced, intelligent middle-aged man who loves nothing more than spending time in a secluded seaside shack (a "hide," if you will), watching and documenting the various species of birds he encounters. Roy's bird watching routine would seem to be precise and consistent, with the only excitement being the immense thrill he gets from spending time doing something he loves dearly. That is until the day a stranger named Dave shows up to take refuge from a vicious storm that has plagued the area. Unlike Roy, Dave is young and appears to be a lot more street savvy; in fact, he even comes off as potentially dangerous.

Despite their differing personalities, Roy and Dave find themselves getting along fairly well, sharing bits of personal information and beliefs that, at times, go far beyond the usual chitchat. Throughout their frequent and brilliantly written conversations, there is a line of cordiality that both men walk when conversing with one another. There are times where Roy and Dave's differing personalities are expressed in a more drastic fashion, causing the men to get a little agitated with one another. Nevertheless, the honesty creates a stronger bound, as well as being something that is quite satisfying to watch as a viewer.

The odd couple relationship forming between Roy and Dave stalls out when it's learned that the police are searching the area, looking for a dangerous white male wanted for murder. This revelation alarms Roy, setting about a slow falling domino effect of unease and tension that builds between the two characters up until the film's smart, but a little easy for me to spot, twist conclusion. 

The Hide was lensed during the months of November and December on location on the Isle of Sheppey, and the result is a setting that exudes sweltering atmosphere in a deliciously gloomy way. Filled with overcasting rain clouds that shadow the scenery in dread, the location emits with the sounds of surrounding birds singing their own brand of ambience, making this a truly gorgeous setting for a film where scale takes a backseat to tone and detail.

It might be difficult for many to enjoy, or even want to watch, a film that takes place in one, very cramped, location that features no more than two characters who basically spend a majority of their time talking. It can be a lot to ask of an audience, but The Hide takes what is a stripped down story and fills it up with a great premise, interesting dialogue and a truly magnificent backdrop for the actors to give their fantastic performances in front of.

My only real issue with The Hide is the fact that I watched the film via a screener that looked like complete shit, something that is not at all the film's fault, naturally. Not only did my copy have some "property off…" bullshit polluting the screen for the entirety of the film (something I can deal with), the quality of the screener is grossly degrading to what was meticulously put on screen by director Marek Losey (something I find unacceptable). I would normally never make comment on such a secluded issue as a screener's quality, but it's as unfortunate as it is obnoxious seeing such a fine film in such a fashion. Regardless, this quip is a nonissue for anyone who would rent or buy The Hide, and knowing just how much better the film could look in a proper release, I would certainly love to take another plunge into this fantastically low-key, character driven thriller. 

All God's Creatures: Love Heals All (Stab) Wounds

When a person is damaged, in one way or another, sometimes the only solace they can find is by partaking in things that might not be reasonable within the bounds of normal human standards and practices. Some resort to drugs and alcohol to feel complete. Others may find that the only way to feel as if they are in control is through domestic abuse or even by partaking in some form of abnormal sexual deviancy. Then there are the select few that can only fulfill their emptiness in the most taboo of ways, by taking the lives of innocent people.

The latter is where Jon falls. Jon is not what you would call a very big fan of women. Well, at least not a big fan of women of the night, that is. You see, Jon spends much of his spare time away from his coffee shop job picking up hookers. But instead of letting them rock his world, he rocks theirs, by taking their world and ending it. While his reasoning for this awful habit is never made clear, Jon often spews out the phrase "filthy whores" (amongst a handful of other descriptives that most women do not enjoy being referred to as) as he ends the lives of these poor women. Therefore, it seems that at some point in his life, Jon was wronged or seriously hurt by a female that was important to him, thus creating an intense hatred for women and, more specifically, prostitutes.

Jon finds his happiness, his solace, in ending the lives of women that represent something very personal and possibly even painful to him. Something that is so deeply seeded that there is nothing that could keep him from continuing his nightly slayings. Nothing except maybe a woman. The right woman.    

In walks Delia, an extremely attractive woman who has a certain swagger and charm that Jon has never encountered before. From the second she walks into Jon's coffee shop, Delia steals all of his attention, almost shining a ray of feminine hope that Jon has not seen in a longtime, if ever. Jon witnesses a woman that is unlike any other, unlike any of those filthy whores he is forced to slay on the regular. Delia sees a man in Jon who is genuine, sweet and someone who breaks the mold of what she knows about men, specifically the men who have been in her life. Of course, Delia knows nothing of Jon's murderous hobby, but Delia also has a few secrets of her own.

Much like Jon, Delia carries more baggage than an airplane (yeah, of all jokes I went with that one!). She too is a lost soul of sorts and has many issues to deal with. Like Jon, Delia is damaged, broken from many years of abuse. Delia is in a place where she will do anything to set her life, and the life of one very important family member, on the right track. However, getting there is a difficult road, and the only way she can see to create the right life for herself is to resort to selling her body.

Delia needs to find solace for herself as well as for her younger sister, and the only way she believes she can go about it is by prostituting herself out. However, it goes much deeper than that for Delia as she is a woman (well, more than likely a girl at the time) who was sexually abused by a man. Her solace may come in the form of her domination over her clients, the men she sleeps with for money. She is using them to get what she wants and bosses them around as she sees fit. She is in control, and uses this sense of dominance to fill the emptiness left gaping from a haunted past.

Two different people with two very different ways of coping, coming together and finding solace in one another. But can that solace be broken when one potential partner is a serial killer who enjoys murdering prostitutes while the other is just that, a prostitute?  

Directed by Ryan Cummings and Frank Licata and shot in 16 days on a budget just under $20K, All God's Creatures has this certain level of charm about it, and much of that can fall on the well-written lead characters and the actors that portray them. Both Jessica Kaye (who plays Delia) and Josh Folan (who plays Jon and also co-wrote the film with Billy Fox) put out some great performances in this extra low-budget film. Folan is convincingly intense and intimidating as Josh, while Kaye has this indescribable presence about her that I find difficult to pinpoint. Her performance is quite refreshing, and she has this certain thing about her that is completely and utterly charming. She fully embodies the character of Delia, which is very important in a film where a serial killer is swooned by someone he would normally look at as a potential victim.

Despite the film's financial shortcomings, All God's Creatures is a nicely made independent thriller, though, there are a few questionable technical decisions. This would be specific to the handful of strangely handled montages that play throughout the film. The way they are shot and the odd, pop-infused music choices seemed to be quite off kilter from what the movie is going for and is slightly reminiscent of Canadian made, teen focused Lifetime movies. A traditional score or maybe something a little more simplistic with a slight edge would have worked better for certain moments. However, I do believe these montages and the music choices were meant to play more towards the sweet, romantic angle of the film, but they just seemed to be distracting from what is the heart and strength of the movie.

Regardless of those few minor tonal and technical fumbles, All God's Creatures is hinged on the characters, the performances and the idea that there is always someone out there that can help fill those empty voids in our lives. The viewer is put in a position to care and root for both Jon and Delia's relationship, despite their respective dysfunctions, and the fact that the movie is successful in generating sympathy, as well as a desire to see them succeed, says a lot about the success of the film as a whole.

If you fancy a date with a serial killer or, better yet, a nice looking hooker, then you can nab yourself a copy of All God's Creatures by clicking here and going to the official website.

See the Sea: Wave of Mutilation

One thing that has always bothered me about a vast majority of standard Hollywood cinema is the fact that the viewer is given little to no opportunity to actually think about what they are seeing. So often every little detail is over explained with scenes of ill-placed dialogue that serve no other purpose than to tell the viewer what they should or shouldn't be feeling at any given moment. Sometimes there are the little visual cues that point out each and every minuscule detail about what is happening on screen, even though you could very well figure it out on your own within the confines of the scene and how it plays out for the characters.

On the flip side, exposition can sometimes be necessary in certain situations, and I have no problem when it is done in a way that supports the story instead of bogging it down with useless details. It all comes down to how the film is presented and if we the audience are treated like we have a smidgen of smarts left in that oversaturated dome that sits on our shoulders.

This plays right into my thoughts on the semi-short film, See the Sea, from French writer/director, Francois Ozon. See the Sea (non-freedom translation: Regarde la mer) is not exactly the type of film that's easy to review, simply because to get into too much detail can really spoil the impact of the film. However, I still feel the need to share it because I found it to be an interesting watch and one that can easily be accessed on the good ol' Netflix instant watch.

See the Sea follows a young mother named Sasha (Sasha Hails) who, along with her baby daughter, is waiting for her husband to return home from a long business trip. Meanwhile, Sasha takes in an oddball drifter name Tatiana (Marina de Van). There's honestly not too much more to say about the plot without unnecessarily touching on specific moments and giving away too much about the film itself, but it should be noted the difference in which the two women are presented.

Tatiana is a street savvy loner who is a bit rough around the edges and can best be described as (or at least appearing to be) damaged goods. On the other hand, Sasha is a bit naïve, overly trusting and seemingly happy. She's carelessly (and curiously) open to any sort of company for the simple fact that she wants to curb her boredom (and possibly a slight sexual appetite). What it boils down to is, one seems to have it all, while the other seems to have nothing, but there is something that each of the two characters can gain from one another. 

Now, the distracting part about a film like See the Sea is the fact that it's a thriller of sorts. A thriller is what it's sold as, it's what the blurb alludes to on the home video release and, quite frankly, it's why I watched the movie in the first place. That and it's 52 minutes long. So when you go into the movie itself, there is a preconceived notion of what to expect, but that is not at all what is served up to the viewer. 

While there are some incredibly odd and eyebrow raising occurrences in this film, as well as already being aware that there was something that would "thrill me," See the Sea doesn't come at the audience with its thriller dick in its hand spewing out the usual troupes found within the genre. Everything is sold to the viewer with the subtly of a growing fingernail. There is little to no music or falsely generated tension, and things are allowed to unfold naturally, with moments tossed in that make you wonder where exactly this one is going to end up.

There were no moments where I felt as if I was being told how I should be feeling; I was being allowed to feel it for myself. Thankfully, a lot of what I felt was driven by curiosity and a desire to know where exactly the movie was taking me. See the Sea is not exactly an exciting film, but that's sort of the point. It's realistic in how things progress for the characters, and that reflects greatly in how things progress for the viewer, too. There is no actual foreshadowing in real life outside of possible little clues to who people really are, and that is how See the Sea handles its character's and their individual progressions. 

There's a lot to be said about the two female leads and their respective intricacies in this film, and that's very difficult to discuss in great length as to get too far into either of their psyches could possibly give you an idea of where the film will go, and I would much rather you find that out for yourself. Then we can talk. Either way, See the Sea is a high recommend because it is interesting, it's well put together, it will leave an impact on you, it's artistic, but not at all pretentious, and the ending will make you want to backtrack in your mind with the intention of processing everything that happened before the anti-climax.

The Lady Vanishes: Right Into My Heart

While I've seen varying touches of subtle humor in some of his films, I have never watched any of director Alfred Hitchcock's flat out comedies. I never really thought about seeking one out either, but it would turn out that the sip I took from 1938's, The Lady Vanishes, tasted a whole lot more like a comedy than it did the thriller that the Netflix description was trying to sell me. Sometimes when you think you're taking a drink of one thing, not knowing it's actually something completely different, the taste can be almost souring. Even if the drink is something you really like, it doesn't matter. You expected something else and your taste bud's equilibrium is simply thrown off, leaving you with a "who farted?" face.

This was not the case with The Lady Vanishes, in fact, I found that my first sip turned into a full fledged chug-chug-chug, and before I knew it, I was drunk with glee. The structure of the movie (based on the 1936 novel, The Wheel Spins, by Ethel Lina White.) does work as that of a thriller, with a group of travelers that find themselves spending the night in a hotel as they wait out the terrible storm that has halted their train for the time being. While spending the night, the many characters are introduced with the main character being that of Iris (Margaret Lockwood), a young women who becomes acquainted with an elderly governess named Miss Froy (Dame May Whitty).

During the overnight hotel stay is where a bulk of characters are introduced, with many of them playing minute yet important parts that work almost as red herrings in a way. All of the characters are interesting and many have a quirkiness about them that adds an air of eccentric fun to the film as a whole (most notably and for a number of reasons are the characters of Charters and Caldicott). It's not even clear as to who the film will focus on until the travellers are all back on the train and Miss Froy goes missing. The only person who notices this is Iris, but when she begins to investigate, no one on the train seems to know - or wants to admit knowing, for whatever reasons - who Iris is talking about.

That's really the basic idea of the film, and while there are many little twists, turns and mysteries to be discovered with many of the individuals on board, The Lady Vanishes uses this plot of suspense and intrigue to do so much more than what it would seem to be at face value. As I said, the movie is very much a comedy, one that is driven by an ensemble cast for the first act. However, the film changes its focus after the incident happens and that is when most of the time is spent with Iris and, another acquaintance she made while at the hotel, Gilbert (Michael Redgrave), whom helps her try to unlock the mystery of the missing women.

Doing a little backtracking to give some background on Gilbert and Iris, their first encounter is not the most positive one as Iris tries to have Gilbert kicked out of his hotel room for making too much noise playing music in the room above hers (in an oddly hysterical scene), thus keeping her from a good night's rest. After the hotel manager asks him to leave his room, Gilbert promptly comes down to Iris' room and informs her that since she had him removed from his room, then he will be staying with her for the evening. His brashness and overconfidence in the situation only infuriates Iris, but it does so to the point to where Gilbert gets what he wants, which is his own room back.

Even as initial adversaries, the minute both Iris and Gilbert are on screen together, it is clear that there is an incredible connection between the two, whether or not Iris would knowingly want to acknowledge it at first. This is a relationship that builds and becomes stronger when an obviously smitten Gilbert helps out a distraught (and equally enamored) Iris in her search for Miss Froy. Redgrave and Lockwood are simply delightful on screen together, and watching them fall for one another is truly where The Lady Vanishes succeeds the most. There are many scenes where the two play sleuth, and their interactions make for a handful of nice, genuine moments that also work as a solid way to break up the tension and the seriousness of core the story.

For a film that does come off as a comedy with the structure of a thriller, it is a little on the ridiculous side as far as the story goes, as well as where it ends up towards the movie's back end. Things get a little too serious for the contrasting moments of humor, and for that the movie is slightly conflicted, but none of that is as important as it should be due to the film's other strengths. One of them being the brilliant techniques that Hitchcock uses from time-to-time. Now, this is a movie from way back in 1938 (dude, shit's in black and white, even), and was one of the final films that the director made before making the big move to Hollywood, but it is clear that he had an incredible eye for cinema even way back then. There are some brilliant shots and a great use of perspective spread throughout, but most impressive is a quick action shot with Gilbert outside of the moving train, that is simply quite awesome.

Nevertheless, even with these fine cinematic aspects, there is a lot of sloppiness in the movie on a technical level, and it's hard to say if it's the fault of Hitchcock or the film's editor, R.E. Dearing. There are times where the confinement of a train is well portrayed, but that also leads to a handful of moments that feel very confused and a lack of flow between shots become very present. One scene that immediately comes to mind is when Gilbert and Iris are in the cargo hold, where they run into a magician that seems to be up to no good, and a fight between the three ensues. It's extremely poor in how cohesive it is visually, but what's kind of funny about this lamely filmed moment is it's one of my favorite portions of the film due to Redgrave, Lockwood and their interactions up to, during, and after the fight (as well as the comicality of the scene). That's truly a testament as to how fantastic the two are together.  

Love this photo!

Hitchcock has successfully used touches of humor to break up the tension in many of his films but The Lady Vanishes is really where I found myself chuckling throughout much of the runtime. The mystery and suspense are a second thought when I think about why I enjoyed this film so much, and it is that pure comedy that can really only be found in classic cinema that won me over. More so, the pairing of Lockwood and Redgrave will prove to be one of my favorites as far as a romantic storyline goes, and for a movie to give me characters that I can fall in love with as they fall in love with each other, is truly a surprise that I never expected when I sat down with this cold glass of mystery.  

Moon: You Saw Me Standing Alone

Duncan Jones nostalgic sci-fi space romp, Moon, is a mostly well known film in certain circles, with those circles mainly consisting of people who are passionate fans of cinema in one form or another. Outside of those too cool for film-school film fans, Moon is not a recognizable name (unless you're talking New Moon, of course), and the general public has little to no clue about the movie. At least that is what I assume but my assumption is more than likely spot on.

That alone somewhat speaks for how the film was completely neglected by the Academy this year - in a ceremony that applauded ten films instead of five - so they could make room for movies more along the lines of the summer blockbuster. Or, to put it in simpler terms, make room for films that the general public know about, thus, drumming up better ratings from the "average person." Basically, popularity over substance becomes even more prevalent.

Most passionate film buffs that have seen Moon have applauded actor Sam Rockwells' performance as Sam Bell, often saying he was criminally snubbed by the Academy. After finally seeing the film for myself - with abnormal expectations mind you - I could not agree any more. Rockwell's performance is a multilayered one, and his range makes him more than capable of pulling off such a complex and well written character. If he couldn't, the film would falter greatly.

Sam Bell is a character that faces tough questions about his actual being and is forced to do so with only himself to try and answer them. He is incredibly sad in many ways, and the bleakness that comes from ones questioning of their own existence when one lacks that existence is more than simple food for thought. However, the average moviegoer would prefer comfort food as opposed to something made with a complex recipe and foreign ingredients. Not that there's anything wrong with a little comfort food, but a good and healthy diet it certainly does not make when that is all that one consumes.

Robbed of an Oscar nod, sure, but Rockwell is not the only crater on Moon's surface that was more than deserving of some golden love, and I'm not talking about the R. Kelley kind. Moon is astonishingly made on every technical level with an eye pleasing 'aged future' set design that harkened back to the Science Fiction cinema of yore – the smooth and engulfing emptiness that is captured by the film's DP, Gary Shaw, is top notch – and the story, originally written by Jones, has the capability to rope in the viewer, giving just enough slack so that the narrative remains captivating until the film's reveal and ultimate conclusion. And all of these things were achieved with a $5 million dollar budget?! Wow, who would have thought that a wonderful film could be made for less than $50 million dollars. But it wasn't about the money (what?!), instead, it was about using the muscle in most everyone's head (neglected or not), the brain, to transcend budgetary restraints.

If you ask me, and you did by reading this, Moon - based off the other films that I have seen that also were awarded the prestige of being recognized by the Academy - was deserving of a Best Cinematography, Art Direction, Director and Picture nomination. Shit, the very subdued but powerful score by Clint Mansell may even be worth at least a thought for Best Score. Getting back to the "big award," though, I just don't understand how with ten spots for Best Picture, there is no room for a film like Moon? I mean, it was smile inducing to see District 9 on there - it was a great movie, and I, as most were, was surprised by the nod it received for best picture. But was it better than Moon? Not at all.

The general audience might not get it and while that can be frustrating since it is they that determine what the Hollywood machine cranks out…they don't know any better. They are mindless cattle that would rather go and see a film to have something to do, like text and giggle at shit on the screen. On the other hand, the Academy of ARTS and SCIENCE, a group that is meant to honor the BEST that cinema has to offer, most certainly should know better. Shame on them for ignoring such a fantastic film, but kudos to Duncan Jones for making one.

A Strapped Shoplifter, a Pirate on Cassette

The LAMB does this fun little blogathon thingy called the LAMBs in the Director’s Chair, in which a specific director is put under the spotlight and any LAMB member can contribute in any way they see fit as long is it has to do with the directors overall work in film or a specific movie helmed. When they announced that the fifth director for the Directors Chair event was going to be Clint Eastwood, I was very ecstatic to say the least. Eastwood is a director that I adore and his filmography is filled with so many great movies, but there is only one that came immediately to mind when I thought about my own contribution.

1973’s High Plains Drifter is set in the town of Lago, and the townsfolk have a whole lot to worry about. They suffer from a dark past that haunts them for their greedy ways, and there’s a trio of gunslingers that are to be released from prison and will be looking to take revenge on the town that betrayed them and had them sent to jail. In rides a mysterious gunslinger only known as The Stranger (Eastwood), who seems to be just stopping by for a drink and some R&R.

The Stranger immediately makes his presences known when he is confronted by a couple of would be tough guys, whom he turns into human targets after they try to attack him. Seeing an opportunity to keep the three imprisoned gunslingers from coming back to seek vengeance on the town that did them wrong, the people of Lago talk The Stranger into helping them out with the issue. The Stranger, claiming not to be a gunfighter, only agrees when the townsfolk offer him anything he wants during his stay in Lago – all the food, drink, room and board, anything he wants and all for free.

Eastwood’s character is the definition of anti-hero and it comes across as clear as day in the matter of a few minutes. You root for him right from the get go when he is confronted by the men in the opening moments, but in the blink of an eye, he has his way with a woman in a way that shows he isn’t necessarily a good guy at all and he clearly has no concern for rules. His character goes much deeper than that though - the town does have a history involving a Marshal that was whipped to death by the three imprisoned gunslingers due to the people of Lago and their greed. For some reason The Stranger seems to be plagued, or connected to this tragic event, but why exactly is this?

High Plains Drifter is certainly a Western…on the surface, but it also has many elements of a supernatural Thriller in many ways. Eastwood was unsurprisingly influenced by Sergio Leone and Don Siegel, two directors he famously worked with on films very different from one another. The influence shows greatly in High Plains in that it is a Western in the classic sense, but the epic presence found in a Leone film is traded for what I would consider a gritty urban styled thriller more along the lines of Dirty Harry in how it is shot and the feel of the film. It is almost a meeting of the two genres and it makes for an interesting combination and one that works very well.

One big stand out that shows the two genre styles come together, is the superb music in the film done by Dee Barton. Right as the movie opens, you get a great and almost traditional Western tune that steers you to think that the movie will be a straight up Western. As the movie goes along and especially when the whipped to death Marshal first shows up (in the form of a dream via The Stranger), the music becomes very ominous and eerie. Even as High Plains movies along, the music gets even more dark and brooding, as does the movie itself and it almost reminds me of something that you might hear from Goblin even.

Eastwood still being somewhat green as a filmmaker at this time does a fantastic job with High Plains Drifter and the film looks great on all technical levels. Some of the best stuff in the film is the long panning shots of The Stranger as he’s walking or on horseback, going slowly from one place to another as the camera follows him patiently. As the inhabitants of Lago look on in curiosity, the only sound you hear is that of his spurs. Fantastic stuff. The entire ending is great looking too, with the set design and the how the town of Lago is turned into the town of Hell with a fresh coat of red paint – just for the purpose of putting fear into the hearts of the three bandits on their way to torture the townsfolk.

Eastwood is perfect as The Stranger and he does a great job portraying a character that would seem to be just another gunslinger, to his transformation to something more supernatural. In whatever form it is, whether it is a brother, the soul of the Marshal that was killed, The Crow, or whatever, The Stranger is clearly one that is sent to take vengeance on more than the three gunslingers that murdered the Marshal. He is awful and  despicable to the people of Lago, but they deserve it and if he were sent to avenge the death of the slain Marshal, then he would have to make the townsfolk suffer as well since they are the ones responsible in the first place. And that plays into the end of the film heavily as he lets things unfold in a certain way, instead of taking care of it right away…he wants the town to pay for what they have done before he steps in.

High Plains Drifter is one of the best and most original takes on the Western genre and Eastwood really shows his mastery early in this one by going with something that is a little different stylistically. The ambiguity of what The Stranger is makes this a fascinating film and giving it a supernatural feel is a bold choice that pays off. I can only highly recommend this film and the slight supernatural aspect, mixed with the grittiness of the movie, makes it something that may be enjoyed by fans of horror as well  as fans of Westerns. 

Dial M For Magnificent!

There's just something satisfying about watching an older film and being nearly blown away by the techniques and visual stimulation used in something that is considered to be “old.” I have seen my fair share of Alfred Hitchcock films, but fair share compared to his “girthy body“ of work is nearly a sliver in the big scheme. I love the films of his that I have seen, but I think I have been much too lax in broadening my Hitchcock horizons and for no good reason. I get this way whenever I watch one of his films too and last time was with Strangers on a Train, a film that I completely adored and one that made me think I should watch more of his films...much like I am thinking and telling you right now.

Maybe it's a good thing that I take time between his films, maybe it makes me appreciate them more when I do see them? If I went into another one of Hitchcock's films right now, all high off the  celluloid extraordinariness - would I be disappointed? Perhaps, but that's just bullshit excuses and I think this cycle all ends with a film by the title of Dial M for Murder. Words cannot express how much I enjoyed this film, but words expressing my enjoyment are kind of key in writing about it, so I better come up with something I guess. 

Tony (Ray Milland) has concocted an intricate plot to murder his wealthy, but unfaithful wife, Margot (Grace Kelly). Tony was a professional tennis player and spent a good portion of their marriage playing in tennis tournaments, while his beautiful wife sat all alone back home in jolly ol' England. Bored and before soaps, Margot needed a little “manly attention” while Tony was away and she got it from an American crime novelist named Mark (Robert Cummings), who was staying in England for a short period of time. Tony knows of this adulteress event and along with Margot being extremely wealthy, his motivations are all lined up and gives him all the reasons one would need to have his wife murdered. 

Mark is now back in England for a visit and has met and befriended Tony to an extant, but that friendship is all a facade on both of their respective ends as Mark is really in love with Margot and Tony knows about their affair. How Tony found out in the first place was a letter that Mark had written to Margot when he left England to go back to America -  Tony got his hands on the letter and actually uses it to play an integral part in his scheme to kill Margot. That's kind of the short of it all as the plot for this film is very intricate, but more so, spoiling any of it would be reprehensible on my part no matter how old this film may be.

Most of the focus is on these three characters and almost the entire film is set in a singular location, which would be Tony and Margot's flat. Much of Dial M is filled with exposition and most of the movie is characters talking about or explaining something to move the plot along. Sounds kind of boring...one location, a few characters, and nuttin but talking. However, this one is far from boring and I was completely intrigued by the intricate details of every move that each character makes, or plans on making. Tables are constantly turned, backs are stabbed multiple times and there is no clear indication as to how things may turn out in the end.

Dial M for Murder is based off a stage play by English playwright Frederick Knott, who also wrote the film's screenplay and the detail put into it is incredible. Every detail is meticulously thought out and as each character explains their plan, it is impossible not to be amazed by the brilliance of it all. Tony's perfect murder scheme is so well thought out and so tight, that there is no way it wouldn't work in his mind and this almost gives him an arrogance about the whole thing. Arrogance leads to mistakes and when one is made, the plot thickens as well as the mystery and tension.

Even with all of the long periods of talking throughout the film, Hitchcock is somehow able to make each of these dialogue stretches seem different from one another with a multitude of techniques and camera angles. Dial M is set in one location, but even more so, one main living room and the way that room is shot in so many different ways is an astonishing sight. One long scene towards the film's opening has Tony explaining his murder idea to an unwilling accomplice - as Tony starts acting out how it should all go, the camera jumps to a high angle, almost top down view and in a voyeuristic way, follows every movement that Tony makes. It is quite brilliant and really draws you in to what Tony is saying, which is very important, because the entire film relies on being captivated by the narrative.

There are so many different little stylistic flourishes that keep you from just staring at a couple of talking heads and no matter how interesting what is being said is, without the visual prowess, it could get a little boring. It certainly doesn't hurt the film that the acting is superb by all involved either and especially with these long scenes of heavy dialogue that are often delivered for lengthy periods of time with very few cuts.  It plays exactly like a stage play and considering that is where the source material stems from, the feel is more than fitting.

Dial M for Murder is a perfect case of all style AND substance and that is a balance not struck often enough. When this balance is found in a film that's 55 year's old, it just makes it that much more impressive to me...I don't know why that is exactly. Probably naivety, or the fact that I have a predetermined thought of movies or “pictures” from that era and how they are stylistically. Hitchcock was leaps and bounds ahead of the curve and it is great to once again be shown why he was such a master, by viewing the phenomenal Dial M for Murder.