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Fantastic Fest 2024: GAZER is a Daring Neo Noir
Gazer, is a film that feels like it’s not of this time. The directorial debut by Ryan J Sloan, an electrician turned director from New Jersey (Across the river from me), made the distinct choices to not only shoot on film, but in his home state of New Jersey, rather than taking the tunnel to New York, where most directors would have probably shot their film. Filming in New Jersey however, delivers a gritty and unforgiving landscape for our story of a disturbed and somewhat troubled woman to transpire. It brings to mind genre cinema of the late late 70s early 80s New York, pre the Disneyfication, harkening to a much more dangerous time with its Hitchcock meets Nolan premise.
Gazer follows Frankie (Ariella Mastroianni) who spends her evenings, peering into other people’s open windows, and summarizing her thoughts on their lives into a cassette tape recorder. She does this, because suffers from dyschronometria, a condition that impacts her ability to accurately estimate the amount of time that has passed. The condition has been slowly eroding her mind, to the point when the film begins she is being advised to move into an assisted living facility. To further remove anything that could date the film, she is forced to use antiquated tech because the digital screens are a trigger for the young woman’s condition. Its at a support group for people who have lost someone to suicide that she sees Paige, a young woman she’s been spying on, who offers to pay her to help her get away from her abusive brother, which triggers the mystery.
While Gazer’s first act is a focused slow burn exercise in world building as director Ryan J Sloan sets the grounded foundation, he slowly begins to erode it away with more surreal and Cronenbergian elements thanks to Frankie’s mental condition. The narrative is very much from Frankie’s perspective, so at times we’re wondering if what we are experiencing, is in fact how it’s transpiring. While it could of course be compared to Nolan’s Memento, that film doesn’t trap us in the protagonist’s head like we are here. This element adds a level of uncertainty that had me continually rethinking just where we stood.
The thing that makes Gazer effective is actor Ariella Mastroianni’s raw nerve of a performance, she’s completely unguarded here, and oftentimes it’s to her character’s detriment. It’s something that as she’s trying to put the pieces together of just what’s going on – because of her condition, we’re watching it negatively impacting everything else in her life. She is opposite a rogues gallery of characters that populate her world, where she’s constantly teetering on the edge. It’s something I think Ryan J Sloan captured perfectly, these people on the fringes who could lose it all by simply missing a day of work, or not being able to get transportation to an appointment.
Gazer is a daring neo noir that flirts with so many sub-genres, as its story slowly unravels on screen. Ryan J Sloan effectively leverages a well honed and measured narrative, along with every tool on his belt as a director to craft a world captured on celluloid that feels real as it does dangerous.At its center is Ariella Mastroianni who is trapped in this barren urban hellscape populated by office parks and Jersey gas stations. She’s charged with a role that has her bearing the damaged soul of a woman who after two hours, you’re never sure you ever really knew. Gazer is an impressive debut, that alludes to an exciting new auteur, who I hope will continue to tell more tales further exploring the darker reaches of the Garden State.
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Fantastic Fest 2024: HEADS OR FAILS – Chaos Reigns!
Heads or Fails, which just premiered at Fantastic Fest is the sophomore effort by the Guit Brothers, Lenny & Harpo, and their follow up to the insane and very hilarious Mother Schmuckers, one of the funniest things to hit the festival circuit back in 2021. This time the Belgium pair are back and tackle an equally flawed female protagonist in an anxiety inducing slice of life black comedy, that feels like Frances Ha meets Uncut Gems. If you loved Mother Schmuckers, you’re definitely going to enjoy Heads of Fails, as the film cements the duo from Brussels as a force to be reckoned with in the black comedic space.
Heads or Fails follows Armande Pigeon (Maria Cavalier-Bazan) an early 20-something woman who moved to Brussels to find love, and has so far been as unlucky as you can get. She’s basically a terrible person too, she doesn’t have a job and sleeps on a fold up cot in the living room of an old woman, whom she owes 3 months back rent. She lies and steals from her friends, will ask out anything with a pulse, and is a degenerate gambler. When we first meet her she loses her shoes in a bet, and we are forced to watch her just go from one terrible wager to another, all while being a pestilence on those around her.
The big question here is, when will what’s left of her luck run out as she is hedging her bets on a big score.
What makes the fllm infinitely watchable is how Maria Cavalier-Bazan’s engaging and fearless take on the actor, thief, gambler, and completely irredeemable human being. Hidden in her performance amidst all this chaos, Cavalier-Bazan is able to find the humanity in Armande and highlight these moments, it’s here we bear witness to what those around her might have seen when they met her. It’s also how the Guit Brothers portray her that’s a breath of fresh air, Armande is gross, she’s unfeminine at times and her character feels fleshed out and multidimensional in such a way that even though her sexuality is portrayed here, its feels completely organic to the character and her life.
Whether you like it or not at its core, Heads or Fails forces the audience to watch someone too young to know better make terrible choices, and it’s because of those earlier glimmers we’re still secretly rooting for her. I mean I was. Sometimes it’s hilarious, sometimes it’s upsetting, but it never feels cheap or manipulative in its choices and as a character study it just cooks. It takes a while as an audience, but we soon realize Armande HAS found love in Brussels after all, with chaos, as her world comes crashing down around her. It’s a sight to behold as the credits roll as she finally realizes this. Heads or Fails isn’t for everyone, but if you thought Frances Ha may not have been chaotic enough for your liking, Armande is your girl.
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Fantastic Fest 2024: PÁRVULOS Finds Humanity In Horror
A coming of age dramedy, exploring the bonds between humans and inhumans
A post apocalyptic movie set after a zombie outbreak is nothing new., so you have to find an original angle to set yourself apart in this sandbox. Translating roughly as “Preschoolers”, Párvulos actually achieves this feat, not just in serving up original fare, but in pulling off the tonal balancing act needed to achieve it.
A coming of age tale, with a trio of young brothers Salvador (Felix Farid Escalante), Oliver (Leonardo Cervantes) and Benjamin (Mateo Ortega), eking out an existence after the end of civilization. A virus and a ill-prepared vaccine contributing to humanity’s fall, and turn to zombification. Despite having lost one leg, the eldest Salvador cares for his younger brothers Oliver and Benjamin. Instilling into them not just a routine, but also rules to aid their survival. They forage and farm around their isolated cabin in the woods, supplementing their needs with the occasional success at hunting. At night, they tales, play games of their own creation, listen to music, watch movies, to distract them from the land dying around them, and the threats out in the wild. But, there is a danger far closer to home. Salvador and Oliver have kept their undead parents chained up in their basement. Unable to let go, and with an intention of holding out for a cure, or rekindling that spark of humanity within them. As their efforts get underway, dangers from without and within that throw the rehabilitation efforts off course. Beyond the dwindling supplies, there’s survivors entering their area, notably a young girl named Valeria (Clara Adell) who manages to manipulate her way into the home. The biggest threat is hinted at during a scavenging expeditions, a fanatical gang that seeks to control the region and are on a collision course with this family, such as it is.
We’ve seen zombie films in the past where that spark of humanity is explored for comedic or dramatic purposes, the ending of Shaun of the Dead, Romero’s Land of the Dead, or even recently Zack Snyder’s Army of the Dead spring to mind. Here its the focus of a more intimate tale, not a means to escalate the threat or just provide a means of entertainment. These kids are faced with a need to grown up, and also just don’t want to let go, unconvinced their parents are beyond salvation. Cue a series of moments and montages as these bickering brothers in arms work to adapt to the new world, and reconnect with their parents trapped within these decaying shells. Family dinners and walks in the countryside in lesser hands could come across as silly, here they feel sincere. The script from director Isaac Ezban, alongside Ricardo Aguado-Fentanes, handles this tonal balance well, adding just the right tinge of farce to lighten the mood in the face of such grim fare. It’s somewhat reminiscent of Peter Jackson’s Dead Alive, it’s certainly the only other zombie film I’ve seen where the undead copulate. It doesn’t embrace the wacky, over the top nature, but like Jackson’s feature, there is a tinge of humor, sadness and poignancy that permeates the gnarly fare. A glimmer of an anti-vaxxer remark aside, the one real failing in the film is it’s pace and length. It it does feel drawn out, lingering too long in moments or retreading themes to drive home a point already conveyed. A cut to, and more confidence in the film’s core would only add to it’s impact.
The film has a hauntingly desaturated look, making it akin to a distant memory of life. Monochromatic aesthetic gives way to occasional pops of color. The production looks organic, like an reclaiming by nature after humanity lost its place. In all, it’s an appropriately ruinous looking picture, aided by some impressive blood and gore focused practical effects. Despite the family vibe, there are some truly gnarly visuals here and impactful visceral moments. Some of these offer glimpses within the kids of a the primal, instinctive nature that comes to the fore as their lives, and those of their family are threatened. Physical encounters, violent and sexual, that speak to a loss of innocence. These emotional beats of the film ground the horror elements and tie back to the moral struggles these kids are facing. Survival can bring out the best or the worst in us, and for a young child plunged into desperate times, that can have a long lasting imprint. Párvulos is set in a world where living another day might mean sacrificing a piece of your own humanity. Despite the grim nature of circumstance, its story locks in on finding humanity, and indeed hope, amidst the horror.
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Fantastic Fest 2024: WHAT HAPPENED TO DOROTHY BELL Finds Rich Potential in Found-Footage Horror
With her documentary, What Happened to Dorothy Bell?, Ozzie Gray (Asya Meadows) is on a journey to unlock their hidden trauma. Once their town’s beloved librarian, the spiraling of Ozzie’s grandmother has taken on urban-legend status–and while they can’t remember why, the impact on young Ozzie has become its own buried secret among their family. Using a litany of available cameras, they’re determined to use camcorder tapes from their childhood and newly captured digital footage to unearth secrets from their grandmother’s mysterious disappearance and get to the root of one of the most traumatic experiences of their life.
Danny Villanueva Jr.’s film opens with succinctly spooky evidence that they’re a horror creative to watch–as we see how young Ozzie plays hide-and-seek with their grandmother, ostensibly the focus of a widespread missing person’s search. With our perspective literally controlled by a child, they eagerly accept what would otherwise be a terrifying situation; the innocence and terror goes hand in hand, made even more compelling as the present-day Ozzie exerts an unseen influence rewinding and fast-forwarding this footage for answers they’ve spent years searching for.
It’s a vital combination of medium and subject that forges a crucial foundation for any found-footage horror film to work–and in that respect, Dorothy Bell taps into a riveting, truly scary subject matter that genre trappings can only augment. Breaking the cycle of generational trauma will put anyone through harrowing emotional territory–and like the best horror films, notably Australia’s Lake Mungo in this case, What Happened to Dorothy Bell grants heartfelt heft to Ozzie’s process of doing so. Navigating years of evolving physical media is such an apt metaphor for Ozzie’s quest to explain just what happened to their grandmother–and why their parents won’t say much about what happened–an act of documentary that’s pointedly just as much an act of therapy for the filmmaker.
Asya Meadows’ lead performance is remarkable throughout, in this regard, committing wholeheartedly to their character’s exploration of their mental health and trauma. It’s something they portray with equal determination and resistance–as they reluctantly explore their own flaws and trauma responses via Zoom sessions with their therapist, Dr. Robin Connelly (Nightmare on Elm Street 4 & 5’s Lisa Wilcox). While not directly referred to in the film, it’s also fascinating that Meadows and Villanueva incorporate themes of evolving gender identity in Ozzie’s journey via the gender performance of the younger and older versions of the character. There’s a constant tension between Ozzie and their parents rooted in their shared past–and it speaks to Dorothy Bell’s mature unpacking of generational trauma that Ozzie’s identity remains an ambiguous factor rather than bearing a direct undeserved weight of parental resentment.
Villanueva’s direction is assured in this regard–as are many of his strengths as a horror filmmaker. Several creepy sequences stand out in Ozzie’s exploration of Dorothy’s old library, cutting between Ozzie’s camera(s) and a more omniscient security camera out of Ozzie’s perspective reach. Sequences involving Dr. Connelly are also quite spine-tingling, with some innovative usage of Zoom not seen since Pandemic-era Host.
What’s disappointing, though, is when Dorothy Bell’s brisk 80-minute runtime works against its slow burn approach, backing Villanueva’s well-developed themes into a corner of resolution. The third-act approach unfortunately forces the film into too-familiar territory, shoehorning in a dime-store demonic influence plot that is as rushed as it is familiar. More drawn-out terrors become obtrusive, evoking sighs rather than scares. One can’t help but feel like with more development, such elements could find a more organic set-up over the rest of the film, allowing the supernatural elements to work more in tandem with Villanueva’s themes of trauma akin to Hereditary or Relic. As it stands, though, the film fizzles out rather than burns bright.
However, Dorothy Bell’s divisive finale doesn’t detract from the spark of possibility Villanueva has as a horror storyteller or Asya Meadows’ incredible strengths as a horror lead. While aspects of Danny Villanueva’s feature may feel beholden to more generic horror elements by its conclusion, What Happened to Dorothy Bell makes for an intriguing found-footage film, with a clever mind for upending genre expectations and unpacking the rich and complex emotions at its core.
What Happened to Dorothy Bell had its world premiere at Fantastic Fest 2024 on September 22, 2024. It is currently seeking distribution.
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Fantastic Fest 2024: MADS is a One-Take Roller-Coaster Ride into Hell
French auteur David Moreau delivers one of the year’s most disturbing and awe-inspiring horror vehicles
Young Romain (Milton Riche) is living his best life–it’s his birthday, celebrating with best friends, no parents, and plenty of drugs. Gifted a new drug from his usual dealer, Romain gets sky-high before speeding off in his father’s Mustang–until he’s flagged down by a bandaged woman in a hospital gown. Drenching him in blood, Romain is caught in the moral quandary of being arrested by whoever answers his calls for help. He tries to sit the situation out at home–until girlfriend Anaïs (Lucille Guillaume) appears to whisk him off to a house party. This chance encounter kicks off the nonstop apocalyptic fury set within a small French suburb in MadS, a delicious real-time, one-take horror that David Moreau directs with an effortless flourish and unsparing bleakness.
Following in the tradition of Gaspar Noe’s Climax or Sebastian Schipper’s Victoria as well as his own paranoid thriller Ils, David Moreau’s zombie apocalypse unfolds with mounting dread, turning its main characters’ bloodstreams into ticking time bombs before they succumb to the mysterious plague taking hold of them. Steeped in Euphoria-like French party culture, the gruesome tension spills out amid nonstop flashing lights and booming house music, effectively fusing their transformation with the chilling paralysis of an overstimulating anxiety attack. Trapped within the immediacy of its single-take format, information comes at a trickle and terrors come from nowhere, rooting us feverishly within our leads’ tenuous mental state.
Because of the central drug’s hallucinatory properties–we’re quickly telegraphed that we can’t trust anything of what we see. Is Romain caught in the crossfire of some sinister medical experiment, or is he just having the worst trip of his life? Are their sharp, snarling tics and glowing eyes the early signs of catastrophic infection, or the consequence of some severely tainted stuff? It’s MadS’ bleak selling point to be removed from nearly all context or comfort, delivering a visceral, real-time primal scream of a thrill ride. It’s a conceit that proves infectious as various characters succumb to the madness, and is a gruesome evolution of Ils’ moment-to-moment suspense, as well as the experimental in-the-moment horror of Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza’s [REC].
It’s also an approach that’s clearly demanding of leads Milton Riche, fellow partier Laurie Pavy, and especially Lucille Guillaume, which all three meet with disturbing determination. Under Moreau’s beautifully choreographed chaos, Riche, Pavy, and Guillaume carefully translate each of their character’s descent into depravity through gradual shifts in body language and mental acuity until they reach a very bloody breaking point. While Riche’s hapless teen effectively introduces us to a world slowly going Mad(S), Lucille Guillaume gives an astonishing breakout performance. Reminiscent of Garance Marillier in fellow French gorefest Raw, Guillaume’s Anaïs reels from betrayal and bemusement before realizing the disturbing scope of what this night has in store for her. Moreau and Guillaume are more than eager to trap us within Anaïs’ thrilling subsequent rampage, pivoting between earnest terror and girlish glee on a dime. The characters’ self-revulsion as they indulge in their disturbing impulses is wrenching to witness, infusing such pandemonium with gripping emotional clarity.
Equally fascinating is how Moreau’s apocalypse never compromises this laser-focus on character, instead remaining very much a background element. As characters flee down empty city streets, the sounds of distant explosions and gunfire from mysterious law enforcement draw closer and closer to home, blurring the line between a chaotic party night and the terror of a domestic war zone. It’s hard here not to think of the inspiring bleakness of George Romero’s The Crazies or Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later, both of which effectively channeled the shambling, blank slates of traditional Zombies into an all-too-human menace and rage. This new, one-take context takes this to new heights, as we helplessly see just how these vivacious teens slip away into the depths of monstrousness. In a France plagued with social instability, ruled by forces shifting on unpredictable yet powerful whims, there’s a brooding power to MadS’ imagery. These youths’ entire world seems destined to be swallowed by chaos one way or another. Understandably, the only thing they can do is rave to the grave and lose themselves to whatever madness the night has in store.
MadS had its North American premiere at Fantastic Fest 2024, with a streaming debut on Shudder coming October 18th.
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Fantastic Fest 2024: In THE WILD ROBOT, Kindness is a Survival Skill
(from left) Roz (Lupita N’yongo) and Brightbill (Kit Connor) in DreamWorks Animation’s Wild Robot, directed by Chris Sanders. The Wild Robot will almost certainly be my favorite animated film of 2024, not to mention one of my favorite films to play Fantastic Fest 2024.
Both broadly entertaining for kids and families, and a nuanced and sweeping sci-fi epic, The Wild Robot evokes comparisons to such masterful work as Wall-E on the one hand or Silent Running or Blade Runner on the other.
Roz (Lupita Nyong’o continues to prove limitless) is already crash landed on a lush island that feels Pacific Northwest-ish when we meet her. She is activated and begins wandering the wilderness attempting to establish a directive, as is her wont as a service robot created by mega corporation Universal Dynamics. In glorious “show not tell” fashion, we come to learn about Roz’s situation, her setting, and who she is right alongside her. Endearing, smart, and silly from the outset, The Wild Robot quickly introduces us to the primary forest creatures that will become central to the story and Roz’s quest for purpose and meaning via the completion of service tasks. Pedro Pascal’s outcast and wily Fink The Fox initially looks to take advantage of Roz as a meal ticket but soon becomes entangled in the raising of little Brightbill (Kit Conner), a runt goose that Roz becomes a mother figure for after she accidentally crushes the nest of his family when he’s still just an egg. With Brightbill acquired, Roz has a programmed task to complete, and we’re off to the races to get Brightbill learning how to swim and fly in time for migration.
Incredibly blunt about the stakes in the wilderness, The Wild Robot is a kids film that isn’t afraid to address life’s fragility, and the miracle of survival against all odds. It’s clear in writer/director Chris Sanders’ script (adapted from Peter Brown’s book series) that Brightbill’s very life is at stake and no bones are made about the animal kingdom’s cutthroat nature. The Wild Robot is also a story of outcasts, with a friendless fox, a feared robot, and a runt unlike any of his fellow geese, the forged family of our trio of leads know deeply the feelings of rejection and isolation that can come when community turns its back on you. They’ll have ups and downs, but they’ll work together to survive, and it’ll be their differences and disabilities that ultimately make them the only heroes who can save the forest when the threats of unsurvivable winters and nefarious future tech threaten their habitat and their survival.
Initially limited exclusively to the (absolutely jaw-droppingly gorgeously rendered in wildly colorful animation) island at first, eventually the film pulls back to show us the wider world and this is when The Wild Robot begins to sell itself as a powerful work of science fiction that has something to say not only about family, parenthood, and adolescence, but also about society and technology and how we steward our world. It’s subtle for a kids movie, but The Wild Robot does imply a future for humankind that we may be careening towards rather than swerving away from. And it helps that the stately and magnificent Bill Nighy shows up as Longneck, the goose leader who will offer Brightbill the chance to fly or die.
I spend a lot of time watching, writing about, and pursuing cinema that celebrates empathy and The Wild Robot will no doubt be one of my favorite films of 2024 not only because it is a deeply compassionate and kind film, but because it’s not afraid to lay bare the stakes for not embracing kindness. Indeed, a central premise of the film is that kindness is a survival skill and it does a fantastic job of subtly reminding us viewers that this skill isn’t only key to our characters’ survival, but for society as well. It’s bizarre to live in a time where simple kindness and self-sacrificial love are revolutionary concepts that feel antithetical to the societal norm, but nevertheless here we are, and The Wild Robot offers somewhat of a countercultural narrative to the masses as a result. Roz, Brightbill, and Fink are a loveable family of misfits that I would gladly follow across multiple stories, though Wild Robot succeeds entirely on its own as a standalone film if future entries don’t manifest. It’s heartwarming and heart rending in equal measure as parents and children will both find much to relate to in that endless cycle of preparing our next generations to fly the nest and build something better than what has come before. In Roz, Brightbill, Fink, and Chris Sanders I trust.
And I’m Out.
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Fantastic Fest 2024: PLANET B: Political Resistance Via Dystopian Sci-Fi
In classic film festival fashion, I went into Planet B knowing only that it was sci-fi of some kind, and that it starred Adèle Exarchopoulos (Blue Is The Warmest Color). This was a perfect level of awareness to enter into a clever, twisty, political sci-fi thriller that took me on an adventure with dire implications.
It is 2039 and France has become an oppressive fascist state. The skies are littered with surveillance drones and jack-booted thugs herd citizens around like cattle. “The R” is a group of resistance fighters doing what they can to fight for freedom in underground bunkers filled with hacked and grimy future tech that attempts to disrupt the state’s machine. When a mission goes south, Exarchopoulos’ field leader Julia Bombarth and several of her compatriots are captured, only to wake up in a mysterious virtual prison; a gorgeous waterfront villa that will nonetheless be a place of nightmares as the state tries to pry information out of them while their physical bodies are locked away somewhere unknown. Meanwhile, Souheila Yacoub’s Nour is an Iraqi immigrant scraping by as a janitor in a top level government facility that houses the tech which runs Planet B, the virtual prison. She’s just days away from her documents expiring and she’s desperate for any solution that won’t see her deported. Julia and Nour’s journeys will intersect in fascinating ways in this taut and gritty political sci-fi thriller.
I knew nothing about writer/director Aude Léa Rapin but our Fantastic Fest team introduced the film by letting us know that she got her start doing some pretty hard hitting journalism in places like Africa and the Middle East, so it seems immediately apparent that her massively ambitious and creative sci-fi thriller would actually take a highly naturalistic and gritty tone. Think more Children Of Men than Hunger Games. Planet B takes us to a dirty, street level future France where the sky is actually littered with drones almost like space junk and the promise of technology has devolved into QR code and retinal scanners at every door.
Rapin creates a visually rich world filled with stark contrast between the grimy hell of the future and the paradisiac ocean villa feel of the virtual prison. While it’s likely the budget was modest here, Planet B feels quite lush and fully visually developed. Perhaps most importantly, the urgency of the political messaging and the sacrifice required to actually affect any kind of change on society felt on point and relevant without ever feeling too on the nose. While Julia and her crew languish in their prison, experiencing confidence shattering nightmares that slowly begin to chip away at their resolve to not sell out their cause, the genuine cost of loyalty and resistance becomes clear. Different characters suffer and falter in varying ways and trust becomes almost impossible. But it is precisely trust that must be forged if there is to be any hope. When Nour finds a way into the virtual prison, tensions ratchet up, but a slim path to victory may also open up. It’ll be up to these two women with everything to lose to forge any chance at escape and revolution.
A cool sci-fi thriller told through a largely female lens (both behind and in front of the camera), Planet B has a lot to say without ever feeling even remotely like homework. Yacoub and Exarchopoulos are compelling leads for what amounts to a pretty weighty thriller that couldn’t feel more relevant today. And Rapin establishes herself as a voice that can deliver grounded thrills through compelling character work carried by determined female protagonists who put it all on the line for a chance at redemption.
And I’m Out.
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Coralie Fargeat’s Bold Body Horror Delivers Style and THE SUBSTANCE.
Fargeat’s sophomore feature is a raging scream at beauty standards, male toxicity, and showbusiness
Back in 2017, Coralie Fargeat announced her presence with the vibrant, violent, and assuredly feminist thriller Revenge. Her sophomore effort doesn’t dial back on any of her visual flair, visceral triggers, or penchant for blood letting, rather it’s all dialed up even further, and again married to a raging scream against female exploitation and male toxicity, this time within the entertainment industry.
Demi Moore stars as Elisabeth Sparkle, an award winning actress who in her later career, segues a Jane Fonda-esque role as a TV workout instructor. A somewhat antiquated format of leotards, legwarmers, and low impact moves. Elisabeth soon becomes aware that her time is up, finding out in unceremonious fashion from executive Harvey (a gleefully loathsome Dennis Quaid) that her “fuckability” is diminishing, and a younger model is needed. Shell shocked from her disposal, she gets into an accident while driving home. Safe but shaken, she is discharged, but not before a young male nurse slips her a USB drive, the cryptic information within leads her to a a secretive new medical procedure, one offering a new lease of life for the patient by unlocking a new and improved version from their DNA. A kit supplied via an underground drop box contains the compounds needed to activate and sustain the process, as well the instructions on how to sustain the experiment. Key to this is a mantra, “REMEMBER YOU ARE ONE”. A reminder and a warning to the pair of subjects as they begin a new way of living. 7 days in one form, then a switch for the other to take over. A downtime for each that is crucial to sustaining the other. The downtrodden Elisabeth takes the activator and begins to violently convulse, her body writhing, cracking, and tearing, and out emerges Sue (Margaret Qualley), a young, nubile woman, who after shaking off the disorientation of her ‘birth’ gets to work stitching a dormant Elisabeth back up, and hooking her to her 7 day feed. The word awaits, and she attacks it with vigor. Answering the casting call for Elisabeth’s replacement she soon finds herself under Harvey’s care, and on the fast track to stardom. A headlong plunge into decadence and career success as Sue looks to disprove the old adage that “youth is wasted on the young”. For Elisabeth, her life seems empty by comparison, and her self-hate and resentment festers. For Sue, the allure of life and success pushes her to take more time than she should, and so delicate balance essential to their survival becomes threatened.
Fargeaut pays homage to Cronenberg, Hennenlotter, and even Zemeckis with this blackly comedic, over the top, gnarly slice of body horror, but it clearly sets itself out as a unique vision. The science of The Substance is suspect, and I say this as someone with knowledge of the field, but a suspension of belief is easy to adopt as the film plunges you into this wild ride. An enthralling and overt condemnation of the expectations on women to not only achieve, but also sustain impossible beauty standards.
Show-business is the most egregious place for this, but the theme resonates widely and loudly beyond the sparkle of Hollywood. A place where fame, and fortune can be as quickly snatched away as it is given. After years of service, Elisabeth receives a farewell gift that serves as a message to just get back in the kitchen. Her desperation, and raging at the dying of the light drives her to this extreme solution.
Where the film finds an extra level of insight is in not just looking at women against societal expectations, but the side effects of how they can pitch women against each other,Elisabeth becomes resentful of not just Sue’s popularity but in seeing exactly what part of herself was in demand. A confrontation with the superficial, a reckoning with self-loathing and isolation. For Sue, its about time being wasted on her counterpoint, a desire to live life to the fullest, work on her burgeoning career. Its this that pushes Sue to disrupt the necessary harmony that exists, and seize time and vigor from Elisabeth to further her own agenda. It’s a disrespecting of each other (or a disrespect of themself if you look at it another way) that pulls the trigger on mutually assured destruction.For Qualley, the role fits in well with some of her other recent work, like Sanctuary, Kinds of Kindness, and Poor Things. Even so, there’s an applaudable gusto which which she seizes the role, not just as the perky, playful tease, but in the later sequences where the resentment, resolve, and fear for her own survival comes to the fore. Demi Moore is a tour de force, with a raw and resonant performance. There’s perfection in her casting, herself having emerged from the squeeze of the Hollywood machine and the quieter period that followed. It’s channeled into the more poignant as well as potent scenes she delivers. It’s an exposing role, in many ways, and she commits expertly to meets the tone and timbre of the film.
Fargeat again shows her assured direction with creative imagery, visceral moments, and a propulsive energy. She also leverages her female point of view to neatly skewer the male gaze that so often informs films, and inform its narrative. One that draws from the tortuous elements of female life, including birth, menstrual cycles, the pain of tight fitting clothing or wearing heels, and even the need to force a smile. A climax that mirrors the overuse of plastic surgery in crafting a monster is just the cherry on top of a nightmarish blend of imagery and experiences. Production design from Stanislas Reydellet is clean, but informed, adding to the meaning and metaphor of the tale. A pulsating score from Raffertie isn’t just adding to the assault on the senses, it’s setting a benchmark as one of the best compositions of the year
The Substance is a fiercely feminist tale of misogyny and monsters. A condemnation of societal views when it comes to women, and beauty standards. Fargeat attacks this with a cartoonish exuberance, crafting a film that revels in its excess. A wonderfully fucked up and resonant howl at how we confine and contort women, and ultimately destroy them.
Inject your eyeballs with The Substance, in theaters from Sept. 19th
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ALL THAT MONEY CAN BUY Remains a Dazzling, Surreal Concoction
“It is the eternal right of every man to raise his fist against fate!”
I remember hearing the title The Devil and Daniel Webster, not about this 1941 gem, but in regards to the remake that Alec Baldwin was starring in as well as directing. The film, shot in 2001, was to co-star Dan Aykroyd, Kim Cattrall, Amy Poehler, and, as the titular duo, Jennifer Love Hewitt and Anthony Hopkins. For a while, in the pre-youtube days, an early cut of the trailer started circulating, which signaled the promise of a madcap experience with a game cast. But funding fell through, killing the post-production time needed when an indie studio snapped up the rights, causing Baldwin to eventually lose control of his film.
Eventually, re-cut and retitled as Shortcut to Happiness, the movie finally came out without ceremony to a handful of reviews that mourned what could have been a fresh retelling worthy of author Stephen Vincent Benet’s classic story. It was a sad end that ensured this wonderfully dark and compelling morality tale would remain virtually forgotten, that is until Criterion decided to give director William Dieterle’s original version a new, vibrant resurrection.
In All That Money Can Buy, a struggling farmer named Jabez Stone (James Craig) finds his life and his livelihood turning to shambles as he’s unable to produce successful crops or sell what he’s able to harvest. When he’s offered a deal by a man named Mr. Scratch (Walter Huston), his luck instantly turns. Unfortunately, Scratch is actually the devil, who has a habit of making deals promising wealth and prosperity in exchange for human souls. Not knowing what to do when payment becomes due, Jabez turns to Daniel Webster (Edward Arnold), a prominent social figure who has a history with Scratch, for help.
All That Money Can Buy falls into the category of fable due to its surrealistic elements and the way they blend into the film’s depiction of the real world. But the film could also rightly claim the label of parable for the way it presents its tale of morality and uses it to not only tell what is ostensibly a black comedy, but also the story of America at one of the most precarious times in its history. It is this setting that allows Jabez’s choice to be seen as one of desperation rather than greed, making his subsequent actions (at least in the beginning), somewhat understandable.
What also helps our main character come across as someone not to be loathed by the audience is the fact that Jabez is a person who is very much deserving of good fortune. Furthermore, he’s someone who recognizes his sudden windfall and isn’t ruthless or selfish with it, at least not at first. Still, he can’t help but be pulled into the spell that comes with great wealth, despite his own promise to himself that he never would. But eventually, Jabez loses perspective, gives in to greed and selfishness, and becomes the kind of person he never thought he was. In actuality, however, it isn’t so much that he’s the kind of person driven by money and power. He’s just merely mortal.
Recognizing this is his family with wife Mary (Anne Shirley) never losing faith in him and mother Ma (Jane Darwell) refusing to fully be taken by his good fortune, no matter how prosperous he becomes. It’s the two of them who give All That Money Can Buy its strength and soul. That very combination is taken to the most extreme when Daniel shows up to take on Scratch on Stone’s behalf. The wisdom and reverence surrounding Daniel shows strength, and conviction, both of which make him the ultimate worthy opponent to Scratch for what becomes a compelling battle over a man’s soul. Even when the movie leans more into the religious side rather than the faith side in its third act before venturing into slight slapstick, this ultimate fight for humanity can’t help but work.
As might’ve been guessed by now, this is a film with two titles, both of which are emblematic of the story and its themes in their own ways. Due to some obvious concerns from various theater owners in certain parts of the country, the title of The Devil and Daniel Webster was not a necessarily appealing one. There is, however, a playfulness to the movie’s original title and a certain level of intrigue that suggests a mischief-filled romp that could also serve as a cautionary tale of what happens when a person takes on the most fateful of dances. This is aided by Huston’s tour-de-force performance, Bernard Hermann’s Oscar-winning score, and the movie’s impressive special effects.
While some may have preferred the original title, it’s hard to dismiss the philosophical nature of a film called All That Money Can Buy. In a way, it’s the title that best sums up the film. Through an emotionally surreal journey, this is a film that serves as an exploration of both the blessing and the curse that comes with getting everything you’ve ever wanted. No matter the title, the film remains a great illustration of a very universal question: Is it worth it to sell your soul for something you really want, or at least, think you want?
All That Money Can Buy is now available on Blu-Ray and DVD as part of the Criterion Collection.
Alec Baldwin, All That Money Can Buy, Amy Poehler, Anne Shirley, Anthony Hopkins, Blu-ray, Criterion Collection, Dan Aykroyd, Edward Arnold, James Craig, Jane Darwell, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Kim Cattrall, Movies, Shortcut to Happiness, Stephen Vincent Benet, The Devil and Daniel Webster, Walter Huston, William Dieterle -
Checking Back Into THE SHINING
“We’ve all been waiting for you.”
My true discovery of Stephen King began in 1997 the moment I laid my eyes on the cover of his then-recent novel, Desperation. All of the classics were quickly covered soon after from Misery to Christine to his monumental tale of madness, The Shining. There was nothing but pure delight to be had at watching this miniseries when it came out shortly after my King education had begun. Seeing one of the author’s most personal stories come to glorious life before me throughout three nights on network television was the thrill I hoped it would be. By this point, I had already seen Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 version (already a classic), but there was something more human and intriguing about this 1997 interpretation by director Mick Garris. This isn’t meant to be a piece about which version is better, except to say this take on The Shining does manage to bring out the novel’s soul in a way the 1980 film never did. Even though it had to contend with the confines of network TV, The Shining still managed to bring forth all the aspects that made King’s novel work. Thankfully, it still does.
The miniseries would never come close to eclipsing the cinematic tour-de-force that was Kubrick’s version. Despite King’s famous dislike of the film and any negative reviews that came its way, for some, the 1980 adaptation is one of the best films ever made. Knowing it couldn’t compete with what came before allowed this version to be its own creation. The third collaboration between King and Garris turns out to be the right combination for this story as the author/screenwriter and director both feel as if they’re firmly on the same page here. The Shining is also another prime example that shows how great the mini/limited series was for King and his sensibilities as an author turned screenwriter. This can be seen not only in the dialogue but in the almost magical way King’s descriptions are brought to life here. A great number of above-average angles and zooms all prove mesmerizing, while the great use of practical effects works wonders at giving the right kind of ominous feel that’s needed to make The Shining effectively play out. These are followed by the hotel’s subtle, but stunning transformation over the change of seasons, all of which gives off a sense of the serene and the surreal. If not all of the miniseries’ special effects work given the limited TV budget, that’s okay. There’s such a strong feeling of heightened foreboding throughout, beginning with the horrific voices accompanying the opening credits that ensure the scares are coming from places the non-King audience won’t expect.
Much like Garris, each of the three leads found themselves with the tall order of recreating roles made iconic by other actors. Fortunately, no one in the cast seemed daunted by this, nor did anyone seem influenced by the likes of those who came before them. In true actor fashion, each person makes their character their own. As Danny, Courtland Mead does a very watchable job of being a child who’s trying to battle his own fears while also trying to understand the change that’s happening to him. Rebecca DeMornay’s Wendy not only succeeds in being closer to King’s original vision for the character but also allows the actress to find a role worthy of her underrated talents at a time when the features she found herself in had begun to let her down. Coming off his Wings success, Steven Weber couldn’t have asked for a better role. His turn as Jack gives off an appropriate feeling of whiplash where his emotional intensity is concerned, while his physical transformation is as equally astonishing. The brilliance contained in the way Weber approaches one of horror literature’s most indelible characters results in the actor’s best performance. With each performance influencing the other, the trio of actors succeed in their roles partly because of their acting, but also for playing their characters as King wrote them, rather than what they all became in popular culture.
The strongest aspect of The Shining is how it looks and feels like its own version. Despite the familiarity with the material, the miniseries comes across like a story we are seeing for the first time. Garris and King both do a great job of laying out exposition and establishing characters, showing us both the real-world fears as well as the supernatural ones that haunt them, blending them seamlessly. Danny’s sporadic visions, especially those he experiences in the presidential suite, are exhilaratingly chilling, managing to capture the tone set by the novel. There are plenty of moments given to Jack and Wendy as a married couple, an element that was sadly lacking in Kubrick’s version. Sure, it can be argued that the inclusion of these was done to fill enough airtime for three nights, but these scenes count and go a long way to making their marriage feel like a marriage. The same goes for the relationship between Jack and Danny. Their complex father/son bond is at the heart of the story here and can rightfully be called the soul of The Shining with its mix of familial frailty and love. Both the horror sequences and the complexities of the relationships might have pushed the boundaries set by late 90s ABC standards, but never once is the integrity or the darkness of the story sacrificed.
One of the reasons that this Shining actually feels like The Shining can unquestionably be chalked up to King’s involvement as both screenwriter and producer. The author’s closeness to the material and his screenwriting experience made him the ideal choice to adapt one of his most popular novels. By the time The Shining came along, King already had experience writing for the screen, including adapting a number of his own works, such as Pet Semetary and Silver Bullet. With the success of 1995’s The Stand, King showed that not only did he know how to write for the medium of television, but just how the novel should transfer. Through his script, the world of The Shining comes to life in a way fans of the novel always hoped it would. There are supernatural moments that happen in the blink of an eye (some of them almost imperceptibly), not to mention the struggle of trying to hold onto normalcy as the horror slowly begins to surround the Torrance family. Meanwhile, the physical settings are richly ornate but made slightly off-putting and unsettling thanks to the otherworldly darkness that King’s story lays over everything in that world. When the themes of guilt, regret, and madness shine through (no pun intended), you can’t help but feel King’s true self as a visual storyteller come out.
When The Shining aired, it defied expectations and the weight of the 1980 film to bring in huge numbers and become a somewhat critical hit. The production went on to win Emmys for both makeup and sound design and was even nominated as Outstanding Miniseries alongside the remake of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood and the Francis Ford Coppola-produced version of The Odyssey. However, the reputation it has today seems to signify that it never had the chance to enjoy its success in the years that followed as many not only consider it to be the weaker of the two adaptations, but a subpar King entry in general. In a listicle published earlier this year ranking all of the miniseries based on King’s works, Slash Film’s Chris Evangelista placed The Shining at number 10 out of 16. But look deep enough and you’ll find that The Shining does have its supporters who recognize it as a true interpretation of King’s iconic novel. For them, the joining of King and Garris and the melding of their two sensibilities conspire to take an already thrilling story to places many fans never could have imagined.
The Shining is now available on Blu-Ray and DVD from Scream Factory.
