Rating: 6/10

Grave Encounters (2011) – Film Review

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“This Place Is About as Haunted as a Sock Drawer…” – Lance Preston

Impressively produced on a budget of around £89,000, the 2011 found-footage flick; Grave Encounters, is an effective, if rarely groundbreaking, contemporary horror. Whilst not as down-to-earth or as painfully slow-paced as several other found-footage releases, such as Paranormal Activity (2007) or Mr. Jones (2013), Grave Encounters wastes little time getting into the monstrosities that lie within the walls of its central setting of an abandoned psychiatric hospital, utilising its dark corridors and rusted medical equipment to deliver memorably creepy moments and a fairly unnerving atmosphere, despite its many faults.

Plot Summary: Voluntarily locking themselves inside the infamous, abandoned Collingwood Psychiatric Hospital, to increase the stakes of their ghost-hunting reality show, Grave Encounters, host Lance Preston and the rest of his team prepare to capture every minute of their overnight paranormal investigation on camera. But, as the hospital’s walls begin to shift into a labyrinth of endless corridors, each inhabited by the spirits of former staff and patients, the group soon realise they may be filming their last episode…

Written and directed by Colin Minihan and Stuart Ortiz, also known as the “Vicious Brothers,” the format and host of the fictional Grave Encounters reality show takes influence from the real-world series; Ghost Adventures, and its host, Zak Bagans, known for his black muscle t-shirts and technique of attempting to invoke paranormal activity by cursing at the supposed spectres, inviting aggression. This inspiration is evident from the outset, as Grave Encounters humorously mocks the ghost-hunting reality shows of the late 2000s, dissecting the manufactured appeal behind the format and its many tricks of the trade. For example, early on in the film, Lance pays a groundskeeper to provide a false statement during an interview that he witnessed paranormal activity on the grounds of the hospital, a known practice in supernatural reality television, as over the years, hundreds of interviewees have publicly admitted to being paid to “Just Make Something Up for the Camera.”

The central cast of Sean Rogerson, Ashleigh Gryzko, T.C. Gibson, Mackenzie Gray and Juan Riedinger provide the occasional moment of levity early in the runtime as a means to break up the flurry of distress and torment their characters later endure. During many of these moments, the characters also make offhand comments regarding their situation, referencing filmmaking conventions and well-known horror tropes that add a level of realism to the dialogue. This doesn’t mean that all of the Grave Encounters crew are strictly likeable, however, as T.J., the truculent cameraman, does far too much complaining and arguing whilst the host, Lance Preston, and the supposed psychic, James Houston, are suitably sleazy for success-hungry individuals who fabricate hauntings for a living, having never witnessed evidence of the supernatural previously. Still, the cast accurately portrays every character’s sense of unease, which is what matters most.

Shot over ten nights and two days, the majority of the cinematography for Grave Encounters by Tony Mirza fittingly matches the style of stationary and hand-held shots seen in traditional ghost-hunting reality shows, with the fictitious Collingwood Psychiatric Hospital portrayed through the real-world Riverview Hospital, an abandoned mental institution in Coquitlam, British Columbia, built at the turn of the 20th century and closed down in 2012, formerly hosting films such as Watchmen (2009). Grave Encounters utilises this ominous setting remarkably well, presenting the building as a dark, momentous presence to the point where it becomes a character in its own right. The opaque hallways of the abandoned building also greatly lend themselves to the film’s phosphorescently green colour palette as a result of the characters’ dependence on night vision to find their way around.

Similar to other found-footage flicks, Grave Encounters doesn’t possess much of a soundtrack, with the original score by Quynne Craddock only being employed for the deliberately dated, excessively edgy theme for the Grave Encounters intro and the atmospheric track that plays over the end credits, which is suitably bleak and unsettling. In an effort to differentiate itself from those other releases, however, Minihan and Ortiz wanted their spirits to be far less subtle and more forcefully frightening, desiring the various apparitions to “Visibly Run” at the audience as opposed to barely materialising or gradually moving objects.

Outside of its real-world influences, Grave Encounters follows The Blair Witch Project (1999) formula of letting its initially brash characters mentally break down before the incursion of the unnatural, embracing some found-footage clichés, such as slamming doors and slowly opening windows, whilst avoiding others in exchange for more eerie concepts, like when the group learn about the hospital’s disturbing history of lobotomies and medical experimentation. In terms of the spirits’ appearance, each harbours a serviceably sinister, if somewhat generic design, often sprinting towards the camera with a cheesy CG effect that distorts their eyes and mouth, spoiling the horror, much like the film’s frustrating overreliance on camera glitches whenever supernatural frights occur.

In summary, although Grave Encounters starts rather slowly, once the first crew member disappears, the pacing picks up nicely, with plenty of twists, turns and creepy surprises to keep the film rolling along. While hardly original or downright terrifying, Grave Encounters gets almost every beat of its found-footage premise right, succeeding in its attempt to critique the many ghost-hunting reality shows that inspired it, even surpassing its higher-budget, candidly titled 2012 sequel; Grave Encounters 2, a largely forgettable, strangely self-referential expansion to the ghostly frights and low-budget storytelling of the first. Rating: 6/10.

Puss in Boots (2011) – Film Review

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“Fear Me, if You Dare!” – Puss in Boots

Released in 2011, one year after the highly-praised Shrek series supposedly concluded with Shrek Forever After (2010), Puss in Boots acts as a spin-off and prequel to the endearing ogre’s renowned franchise, retaining its emphasis on parodying fairy tales whilst supplying the titular heroic feline with an amusing, stand-alone adventure that frequently pays tribute to Spanish cinema. While not profound in terms of storytelling nor revolutionary in terms of animation, for what it lacks in depth, Puss in Boots, directed by Chris Miller (Shrek the Third), makes up for with an abundance of family-friendly wit and excitement, in spite of the initial plan to turn the film into a mere direct-to-DVD spin-off.

Plot Summary: Long before meeting Shrek and Donkey, the adorable yet cunning vigilante Puss in Boots aimed to clear his name, striving to escape his notoriety as the suspected thief of his hometown, San Ricardo. Then, one faithful night, after overhearing that the murderous outlaws Jack and Jill have come into possession of magic beans, Puss senses a window of opportunity, setting out to steal the beans in pursuit of the treasure they lead to, eventually crossing paths with an old friend…

In contrast to the Shrek films, which were in production for around three years (except for the first, which was in production for almost five), Puss in Boots took over seven years to produce, entering development just after the release of Shrek 2 (2004). The film also differs from the Shrek series in other ways, most notably in its inspirations. Where the Shrek franchise became recognised for its parodying of classic fairy tales and modern pop culture, Puss in Boots is more reminiscent of Spanish cinema, namely, Spanish action and adventure flicks, harbouring references to well-known flicks, like The Mask of Zorro (1998), a film which interestingly, also featured Antonio Banderas as the lead, and Desperado (1995), another release featuring Banderas as well as his co-star Salma Hayek. As such, Puss in Boots operates as a successful mish-mash of ideas, blending elements of fairy tale fantasy with solid action sequences reminiscent of traditional vigilante flicks. The majority of the story, though, is a riff on the famed fable of Jack and the Beanstalk, a fairy tale adapted time and again. Thankfully, the writers were aware of this, implementing a handful of original ideas to form their own take on the well-worn story.

The central cast of Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek, Zach Galifianakis, Billy Bob Thornton and Amy Sedaris are superb in their vocal performances, with the newly-introduced characters being well-defined and entertaining, from Humpty Dumpty, Puss’ intelligent yet untrustworthy ally, to Jack and Jill, an amusingly fiendish pair of villains, and the skilled thief Kitty Softpaws, who bears a fairly moving backstory. Truly, the only character that lacks interesting characterisation is Puss himself, who is essentially the same character he was in 2004, with little difference in his personality despite being younger, less experienced and more independent, harbouring no major distinctions or a compelling character arc.

For this film, an admirable decision was made to make the world of Puss in Boots appear very different from that depicted in the Shrek series. In the latter, the environments were similar to classic fairy tale illustrations, often featuring extravagant kingdoms and vibrant forests, with even the earliest appearance of Puss in Boots himself being depicted in clean, pencilled illustrations in a vast woodland environment amidst the book; Histories or Tales of Past Times, Told By Mother Goose, written by Italian author Giovanni Francesco Straparola in 1551. However, the film has a distinctly Spanish feel, with most of the runtime being set in deserts and rural towns sporting Colonial architecture, in addition to a warmer, more terracotta colour palette. The animated cinematography and the animation itself also go a long way in enhancing the film’s many action sequences and visual gags, including one set piece with a gigantic creature wreaking havoc, undoubtedly inspired by the Godzilla series.

Capturing the spirit of adventure much like the film at large, the original score by Henry Jackman is rousing, occasionally even harbouring a slight western feel. Furthermore, tracks such as Chasing Tail and Farewell San Ricardo convey Puss’ heroism and vigilante persona flawlessly, whilst Jack and Jill are granted a monstrously malicious melodic cue with the plainly-named track; Jack and Jill. The end credits song; Americano by Lady Gaga, seems rather out-of-place among the rest of the soundtrack, however, given that Puss in Boots never employed contemporary songs in its fantastical setting before this moment, unlike the Shrek franchise.

Humorously, the animators behind Puss in Boots didn’t bring any cats into the studio to study their movements for the various felines that appear throughout the runtime. Instead, they simply watched some of the millions of widespread cat videos on YouTube to make each cat’s movements as lifelike as possible and take inspiration for some of the film’s cat-related antics.

In summary, Puss in Boots is a delightful adventure with enough entertainment value to keep both younger and older audience members engaged, even if the film isn’t as memorable as some of the entries from the series its protagonist originated. Still, it likely goes without saying the film’s late-to-the-party sequel; Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022), was an improvement over its predecessor in almost every way. Rating: 6/10.

Underwater (2020) – Film Review

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“There’s a Comfort in Cynicism. There Is a Lot Less to Lose.” – Norah Price

Substituting deep space for the deep sea, Underwater is a 2020 sci-fi thriller that takes a hefty amount of inspiration from the illustrious Alien franchise, namely the original 1979 sci-fi-horror classic, with its story centring on a group of survivors navigating a dim, claustrophobic facility submerged deep beneath the ocean’s surface, all while a terrifying, otherworldly force stalks them, picking them off one by one. It’s a familiar format, to be sure, and whilst some will find this type of narrative worn out by this point, I have always enjoyed these sorts of unnerving stories, especially when filmmakers, like director William Eubank (The Signal, Paranormal Activity: Next of Kin, Land of Bad), repeatedly strive to integrate stylish visuals and elements of Lovecraftian horror to suppress the strong sense of déjà vu.

Plot Summary: Operating in the murky depths of the Mariana Trench, the Kepler 822, a research and drilling installation, slowly pushes its way towards the centre of the Earth. But, when a mysterious earthquake extensively damages much of the deep-water facility, mechanical engineer Norah Price, along with a handful of other survivors, band together and take action, faced with the immense task of suiting up and trekking across the ocean floor to safety as something sinister lurks among the facility’s scattered debris…

As a result of the Walt Disney Company’s takeover of 20th Century Fox as part of their acquisition of 21st Century Fox in 2019, Underwater‘s initial release date was drastically pushed back, with production occurring in early 2017. Due to this prolonged release and its skimpy marketing, Underwater was a financial failure, which is unfortunate, as while the film is nothing extraordinary, it is an entertaining flick that keeps up a relentless pace, clocking in at an agreeable nighty-six minutes. Still, it’s indisputable that Underwater wears its inspirations on its sleeve, both to its detriment and otherwise, sometimes appearing overly familiar, primarily through its numerous parallels to the previously mentioned Alien series, beginning straight from the opening scene as the camera slowly pans around the foreboding corridors of the Kepler Station with no dialogue spoken, similar to the opening scene of Alien (1979), where there is likewise no dialogue as the camera pans around the Nostromo, the spacecraft the central characters are aboard.

Evidently inspired by Ellen Ripley through her quick thinking and authority in the face of an unknown threat, Kristen Stewart portrays protagonist Norah Price, who, whilst not incredibly memorable or extensively developed, is given enough characterisation to make her an honourable lead, with Stewart appropriately conveying dread or courage whenever required. Furthermore, the supporting cast of Vincent Cassel, Mamoudou Athie, T.J. Miller, John Gallagher Jr. and Jessica Henwick are terrific, despite many of their characters being archetypes at best and paper-thin cutouts at worst. Yet, in all honesty, in a film such as this, I feel that is all you really need, given that most of the characters serve their purpose in merely portraying walking appetisers for the creatures that are stalking them, showcasing their fearsome capabilities. Additionally, Underwater does a splendid job whenever it delivers exposition, particularly during an early sequence between Norah and her colleague Rodrigo, where the audience is swiftly supplied with everything they need to know.

Presenting the ocean as just as frightening as the vast darkness of space, the cinematography by Bojan Bazelli is stellar for the most part, as Bazelli captures the claustrophobic atmosphere of the Kepler beautifully, supplying every moment with suspense, not only because of the creatures, but the unease induced by the opaque water and crushing pressure attempting to breach the ravaged walls of the facility, a notion amplified by the aquatic colour palette of blues, greys and greens. On top of the camerawork, the design of the creatures is meritorious, clearly taking visual influence from much of H.P. Lovecraft’s work, as well as well-known ocean-dwelling wildlife, such as anglerfish. Regrettably, however, these unsettling creature designs are partially spoilt by the second-rate CGI that perpetually represents them.

For its part, Marco Beltrami and Brandon Roberts’ original score is adept at provoking the asphyxiating claustrophobia one would feel being trapped in an underwater facility via tracks like The Bends, Sprung a Leak and Squid Market, again in a similar vein to the Alien franchise. Furthermore, the sound design throughout the runtime lends itself to the ominous atmosphere, as the submerged facility ceaselessly creaks from the damage it has endured. But, the sound design is undoubtedly at its most effective when heard during the point-of-view sequences from inside Norah’s diving suit.

Intriguingly, for the many underwater sequences, the cast sported heavy, airtight suits, each weighing around 63kg, they were then filmed on dimly lit soundstages utilising volumetric scanning. An interesting bit of trivia that, in my opinion, highlights how much effort was put into this flick outside of its undeniably poor marketing.

In summary, although Underwater is occasionally overly reminiscent (or reliant if you prefer) on renowned films across its primary genres, I don’t believe that means Underwater can’t be admired for what it is, as personally, I’d much rather see an original narrative heavily inspired by a beloved piece of cinema, than a remake or unwarranted sequel of/to one. As such, Underwater is a film that I feel will find a second life on streaming services, as this sci-fi-thriller is a pleasant watch for anyone looking to immerse themselves in some deep-sea storytelling. Rating: 6/10.

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The Hole in the Ground (2019) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Something’s Not Right With Him…” – Sarah O’Neill

Ominous and moderately compelling, The Hole in the Ground is a 2019 Irish horror flick that, whilst well-crafted, is overly reliant on many of the conventional aspects of similar horror outings, most notably within the ‘sinister child‘ subgenre. Still, with the film drawing from notions of Irish folklore, such as the concept of Changelings (children being replaced by fairy folk) and Fairy Forts (the ruins of neolithic tombs scattered across Ireland, thought to be portals to the Otherworld), co-writer and director Lee Cronin (Minutes Past Midnight – Segment: Ghost Train, Evil Dead Rise) does a sufficient enough job with the tools he is provided, even if The Hole in the Ground generally lacks ingenuity.

Plot Summary: To escape her crooked past, single mother Sarah O’Neill travels to the fringes of a rural town in the Irish countryside with her young son, Chris, to start a new life. But, after a disturbing encounter with a local resident, Sarah begins to question things, attempting to uncover if the troubling changes in her little boy are somehow connected to a mysterious crater hidden within the forest that borders their new home…

According to Cronin, in addition to Irish folklore, The Hole in the Ground takes inspiration from a news story he once overheard, stating; “There Was a Particular News Story I Saw About a Man in Florida Watching TV in His Armchair and a Small Sinkhole Opened Up Beneath Him. He Was Unable to Be Rescued. He Fell Down Into the Earth… and I Thought That Was Horrific.” Due to this inspiration, The Hole in the Ground, in execution, is less of the spiritual and bloody interpretation of the ‘malevolent child‘ concept as seen in 1976’s The Omen and more of a cross between the 2014 cinematic interpretation of maternal grief, The Babadook, and another Irish horror of changelings and woodland spirits, 2015’s The Hallow, taking a more minimalistic and character-driven approach to much of its horror and violence.

The largely unknown cast of Seána Kerslake, James Quinn Markey, Simone Kirby and Kati Outinen all portray their respective characters with devotion and authenticity, which is particularly impressive in the case of Quinn Markey, given that child acting can often make or break a piece of cinema. Thankfully, although this role requires a lot from the young actor, Quinn Markey delivers, portraying Chris with a menacing aura of otherworldliness. Likewise, Kerslake provides an anchoring performance, portraying Sarah as a struggling mother beginning to question her parental instincts following her implied escape from Chris’ abusive father. An idea that also plays into the underlying themes of the story, as I’m sure Sarah’s uncertainty regarding her parental abilities is surprisingly close to reality for some, with many mothers/fathers sometimes looking at their children only to no longer recognise them as they develop, naturally evolving into a wide-reaching inner fear and scab for the horror genre to pick at. Of course, in this case, Sarah’s suspicions surrounding her son arise from a supernatural mystery that lingers throughout the runtime. Yet, this subtext never threatens to overthrow the story, instead feeding much of the dread that permeates almost every scene.

Alongside the suitably gloomy colour palette, the cinematography by Tom Comerford retains a visually pleasant, gothic-adjacent look, avoiding hand-held shots for the bulk of the runtime. Much of this visual aesthetic can be attributed to the photographs and filmography of American photographer Gregory Crewdson, which served as a primary influence for the camerawork, with Crewdson’s work being known for staging scenes of suburbia for dramatic effect, his surreal images frequently appearing melancholic, offering ambiguous narrative suggestions and blurring the boundaries between fiction and reality, a tremendous creative choice. However, the same cannot be said for the lighting, which, in some scenes, is so dim it becomes difficult to tell what is occurring.

Opening with the sound of a singular piano note and concluding with that same note, which is then repeated to correlate with the story’s motif of something being ‘duplicated,‘ the original score by Stephen McKeon is fairly audibly engaging, coming across as eerie and dramatic yet never overbearing via tracks, like Main Titles, Run Into the Woods and Mental Health.

Intriguingly, The Hole in the Ground also features several nods to The Shining (1980), including a wallpaper pattern that resembles the famed hexagonal design of the Overlook Hotel’s carpet. Regrettably, however, dissimilar to that iconic flick and many other horrors, the creature design of The Hole in the Ground is rather lacklustre in spite of the detailed costumes that bring the creatures to life, failing to share much likeness with the fascinating folkloric critters that inspired them. Conversely, despite the film’s rather humble budget of roughly £1.5 million, the rarely employed visual effects are surprisingly convincing, like the titular crater, which is presented as foreboding, even though it is merely a muddy, root-laden pit.

In summary, The Hole in the Ground is not an astonishing indie horror, but it is a passable, non-controversial one, a reasonably unnerving, by-the-book horror flick crammed with an array of familiar flavours for those well-acquainted with the genre. Exploiting parental fears where it can and exhibiting splendid filmmaking for the most part, The Hole in the Ground redeems its considerable shortage of originality through its sheer craftsmanship and narrative safety net of Irish folklore, which has previously proven to be a safe bet within the horror genre. Rating: 6/10.

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Safety Not Guaranteed (2012) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 2 Comments

“Stormtroopers Don’t Know Anything About Lasers or Time Travel. They’re Blue-Collar Workers.” – Arnau

Inspired by the infamous “Time Travel Companion” advert printed in a 1997 issue of Backwoods Home Magazine and written as a joke/last-minute slot filler by John Silveira, an employee of the magazine, who is actually credited in the film as a “Time Travel Consultant.” 2012’s Safety Not Guaranteed is a beguiling, low-budget comedy-drama with a minimal sci-fi twist, utilising its mirthful real-world inspiration to compose an austere story with relatively modest ambitions and a shortage of memorability that is, thankfully, enriched by its strong performances, quirky charm and heartfelt underlying themes of love, loss and altering the past.

Plot Summary: When an opportunity arises to turn an outrageous magazine advert into an investigative journalism opportunity, pessimistic intern, Darius Britt, jumps at the prospect, joining her superior, Jeff, and fellow intern, Arnau, as they set out to uncover whether the advert’s proprietor, Kenneth, is a deranged misfit or has truly discovered the secret to time travel…

Based on the previously mentioned printed magazine advert, which was even featured on The Tonight Show With Jay Leno in 1992 during the “Headlines” segment before transforming into an internet meme, Safety Not Guaranteed harbours a straightforward yet well-paced narrative, combining its subplots, twists and turns effectively as director Colin Trevorrow (Jurassic World, The Book of Henry, Jurassic World: Dominion) and writer Derek Connolly, waste little time. That’s not to say that the film has no deeper meaning(s), however, as despite the foundation of the story being a question of thought-to-be impossible technology vs. the drab confines of reality, Safety Not Guaranteed features many relevant themes of love in all its forms, as the various characters each have their own outlooks on intimacy and heartache, many of which are preconceived notions, similar to how the characters initially perceive Kenneth to be a delusional, sci-fi-obsessed oddball before becoming acquainted with him.

In regard to the central cast, each actor, whether that be Aubrey Plaza, Mark Duplass, Jake Johnson or Karan Soni, consistently remains within the realm of their character’s traits, emotionally developing whilst remaining true to the heart of their character. As such, Plaza and Duplass are immensely enjoyable to watch as there’s a sweet sadness in the characters’ focus on lost dreams, missed chances and the truism that we all long for a time machine every once in a while, which is best seen in Darius’ backstory as she has become cynical about life since the death of her mother, causing her to flounder, burdened with sorrow and self-blame. Yet, upon her arrival in Ocean View, Washington, she is met with more than meets the eye in Kenneth, a paranoid and suspicious yet affable man. Believing himself to be followed by government agents, Kenneth manoeuvres around town with his interpretation of covert ops, stealing lasers from local laboratories and immersing himself in technical calculations and physical training, all in pursuit of his time-travelling mission. Immediately drawn to each other as divergent outcasts, Kenneth gradually takes Darius into his circle of trust. Interestingly, the role of Darius was actually written with Aubrey Plaza in mind, as Derek Connolly wanted to work with her. Likewise, Jake Johnson was Colin Trevorrow’s first choice for the role of Jeff.

Visually, Safety Not Guaranteed is passable but not all that impressive, as cinematographer Ben Kasulke predominantly relies on hand-held shots in an attempt to personalise the viewing experience, providing the story with a pleasant layer of intimacy. Nevertheless, the film’s use of the drizzling, forest-shrouded location of Ocean Shores (along with a handful of other areas within thirty minutes of Seattle) is terrific, appearing visually interesting yet never overwhelming, specifically whenever a scene takes place at sunrise or sunset.

For a story revolving around time travel, Safety Not Guaranteed has a surprisingly emotional core for what could have easily been a corny low-budget flick. It’s no surprise, then, that its soundtrack, composed by Ryan Miller, helps to capture that same emotional palette, not only accentuating the themes of the film, but adding an aura of reflection and hopefulness that helps to make the film’s eccentric protagonist someone to root for rather than feel sorry for, such as in the foremost track; Opening. Aside from Miller’s original tracks, Safety Not Guaranteed also features songs from numerous indie bands, including Summer Fiction and Guster, making for an all-in-all well-rounded soundtrack.

On the topic of the humour throughout Safety Not Guaranteed, some gags land, others do not, with some scenes also seeming rather bare comedy-wise. However, I applaud the film’s decision to avoid turning Kenneth into a cartoonishly strange character just for the sake of a few cheap laughs, as well as how natural the cast’s witty improvisation feels, particularly in the scene where Jeff advises Arnau to raise his collar and sport sunglasses to look like a “Pilot That Drives Jets.”

In summary, Safety Not Guaranteed is an endearingly zany indie flick. While the film is obviously low-budget and not exceedingly memorable when placed alongside many other light-hearted comedy-dramas, Safety Not Guaranteed possesses a clever screenplay, earnest moments and a genuine sense of sentiment for those who would like to turn back the clock. Not to mention the film’s plethora of excellent performances from its cast (primarily its three leads), ensuring the film will hold up in the future. Rating: 6/10.

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The House That Jack Built (2018) – Film Review

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“The Old Cathedrals Often Have Sublime Artworks Hidden Away in the Darkest Corners for Only God to See. The Same Goes for Murder.” – Jack

Whether writing screenplays that contain scenes of self-administered clitorectomies or expressing Nazi sympathy at press conferences, the controversial yet distinguished writer-director Lars von Trier (Dogville, Antichrist, Melancholia) loves to cause headlines, with shock value frequently being employed as one of his greatest tools, often accentuating the underlying themes of his filmography. The House That Jack Built, released in 2018, is perhaps von Trier’s most distressing film to date, however, presenting the filmmaker at his most unfiltered and uncompromising. As such, for some, the film will serve as a captivating arthouse piece that delves into the layers of a serial killer’s mind, while for others, The House That Jack Built will seem like nothing more than an insensitive, tasteless horror flick brimming with disturbing moments, all in service of a lumpen statement that has been better cinematically expressed elsewhere.

Plot Summary: Reflecting on his existence, Jack, a failed architect and sadistic serial killer, describes his twelve-year reign of terror to Verge, his unseen, enigmatic companion, illuminating the significance of his systematic atrocities by recounting five randomly chosen incidents from his blood-spattered past…

Premiering at the Cannes International Film Festival on May 14th, 2018, The House That Jack Built was reported to have more than a hundred audience members (including some critics) walk out during its premiere, despite a six-minute standing ovation following the screening. Furthermore, some of the resentful audience members condemned the film afterwards on social media for its relentless violence and nihilistic tone. Although I’m usually not one to get offended by media, The House That Jack Built is a film where I can, at least, understand why some take issue with the flick, as the film effectively promotes the idea that life is cruel and soulless, whilst simultaneously playing upon many ‘hot topic’ political assertions, primarily around the American politician, media personality and 45th president of the United States, Donald Trump. This persistent fatalistic outlook, along with its excessive runtime and unsettling violence, ensures that The House That Jack Built harbours minimal appeal for general audiences, even if much of the potentially contentious commentary gets buried beneath the film’s many other aspects.

Boasting about his achievements to an unseen, accented man known as Verge, the titular, obsessive-compulsive engineer, Jack, portrayed by Matt Dillion, appears unhinged yet astute straight from the opening scene, as he circumstantially describes five haphazardly chosen events from his life, all of which involve gruesome murders. From there, the film spends little time on Jack’s upbringing or the circumstances that led him to such a depraved place, but instead concentrates purely on the unconnected series of incidents where Jack slaughters his victims. Through these scenes, you can see Dillon slowly losing himself in the role as he spectacularly portrays Jack as an authentic, twisted psychopath who possesses no redeeming qualities or childhood trauma in an attempt to connect with the audience. Additionally, the supporting cast of Bruno Ganz, Uma Thurman, Siobhan Fallon Hogan and Sofie Gråbøl are all adequate in their various roles, usually as screaming, hapless victims.

A hefty portion of the cinematography by Manuel Alberto Claro, unfortunately, leaves much to be desired as the film is shot in an almost documentary-like fashion, predominantly relying on hand-held close-ups and mid-shots, where characters repeatedly pass in front of the frame, obscuring the audience’s view. As a result, The House That Jack Built has a noticeable deficiency of attractive shots and is continuously dimly lit, causing many scenes to blend together. That being said, the film does include a handful of brief animated sequences that are invariably visually interesting, in addition to an intriguing assemblage of archival footage/images for whenever Jack refers to fortes like architecture or winemaking.

Exceedingly unremarkable, the original score by Víctor Reyes is barely discernable for most of the scenes it’s featured within. Thankfully, the song choices throughout the runtime manage to audibly enhance the film somewhat, as songs like Fame by David Bowie support the story’s implied 1970s time period while classic French overture pieces, such as Partita No. 2 in C Minor, BWV 826 and The Four Seasons – Concerto No. 3 in F Minor, RV 293, heavily contrast with the ghastly violence on-screen, making a few of Jack’s killings seem darkly comedic.

Regarding the film’s graphic violence, I would argue that it could be excused in this case, given the narrative revolves around an unfeeling mass murder, an inherently frightening yet compelling subject matter that has been covered many times before in cinema with a comparable level of violence, most notably in the horror/black comedy classic; American Psycho (2000).

In summary, unlike a few other horror flicks that attempt to dive into the headspace of a serial killer, The House That Jack Built truly pulls no punches, depicting a self-examining, metaphor-heavy story of a man disguising his shortage of worthwhile contribution with violent self-interest. Throughout the film, Lars von Trier essentially grabs the audience’s head and shoves it into a vortex of anguish, unconcerned about whether it will appeal to the masses. For that reason, the film is not one I would recommend lightly, as if not swept up in the interpretative storytelling of The House That Jack Built, this sickening arthouse flick will likely carry the allure of a lengthy therapy session as it lacks the magnetism of some of von Trier’s other work. Rating: 6/10.

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Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 2 Comments

“A Game for Those Who Seek to Find… a Way to Leave Their World Behind…” – Spencer

Seeking to modernise the premise of the 1995 fantasy-adventure classic; Jumanji, a striking premise first presented in the children’s picture book of the same name, written and illustrated by Chris Van Allsburg. 2017’s Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle switches the concept of an enchanted, four-piece board game for a ’90s-style video game cartridge, rooting itself in well-known video game tropes. And while not quite as enjoyable as the original flick, in my opinion, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle is still an entertaining yet undemanding soft reboot that manages to stand on its own two feet as a jungle-set adventure, utilising its charming cast and humorous moments effectively under the capable direction of Jake Kasdan (Zero Effect, Orange Country, Sex Tape).

Plot Summary: After Jumanji, the bewitched jungle-themed board game, receives a mysterious modification, converting the wooden parlour game into a 1990s video game cartridge, the game is stumbled upon by high school students; Spencer, Martha, Fridge and Bethany, who are promptly pulled into its perilous world. Now, in order to return home, the group must inhabit their chosen avatars, survive the cadaverous creatures and complete the game…

Despite the original Jumanji receiving fairly mixed-to-positive reviews both when it was initially released and in the years since, recounting the simple yet captivating story of Alan Parrish, a troubled boy who comes across a cursed board game that releases lions, elephants, giant spiders and carnivorous plants into the real world to pursue its unsuspecting players. Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle remains in the same continuity, continuing on from Alan, Sarah, Judy and Peter’s adventure by having a separate group of characters unwillingly play the game. To keep the franchise feeling fresh, however, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle cleverly inverts the premise of the original, transporting the characters (and, by extension, the audience) into the treacherous world of Jumanji, where many references to the original flick can be seen, including a cluster of overgrown statues modelled after the iconic board game pieces and a handcrafted hut that Alan resided inside when he was trapped in Jumanji, serving as a sweet yet modest tribute to the late Robin Williams, who portrayed the older iteration of the character.

This time around, the protagonists consist of four high schoolers serving detention together before they are transported into Jumanji following their discovery of the video game’s cartridge in their school’s storage room. Spencer, a skinny, awkward gamer becomes Dr. Smolder Braveston, portrayed by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, the introverted, Martha, becomes Ruby Roundhouse, portrayed by Karen Gillan, the tall and muscular jock, Fridge, becomes Franklin “Moose” Finbar, portrayed by Kevin Hart, and the would-be popular girl, Bethany, becomes Professor Shelly Oberon, portrayed by Jack Black. As can be expected with an all-star cast such as this, everyone possesses terrific chemistry with each other and embodies their real-world counterparts sufficiently whilst playing into the obvious humour in each of the teens altering into entirely different individuals, particularly in the case of Bethany, who transforms from an Instagram-obsessed teenage girl to an overweight, middle-aged cartography professor. Unfortunately, the film’s power-hungry antagonist, Van Pelt, doesn’t fare as well, lacking depth, fearfulness and presence in spite of Bobby Cannavale’s serviceable performance.

Taking advantage of the naturally beautiful scenery of Honolulu, Hawaii, specifically within the Kualoa Ranch nature reserve, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle makes exceptional use of its true-to-life locations and vibrant sets to immerse the audience in the precarious world of Jumanji, exhibiting the immense jungles, massive waterfalls and vast pastures that are only hinted towards in the original flick, even if the actual cinematography by Gyula Pados is somewhat flavourless.

Through tracks such as Brantford High and A Test of Friendship, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle‘s original score by Henry Jackman constructs a clear contrast between Jumanji and the real world, as the formerly-mentioned tracks are contemporary and uplifting in nature, while tracks like Digging Up the Past, The Legend of the Jewel and The Power of Bravestone, are much more exhilarating and adventure-esque, going so far as to bring back the “Jumanji Drums,” a staple of the original Jumanji soundtrack.

When it comes to action sequences, Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle isn’t likely to impress anyone, leaning more on the amusing moments between its cast than its scenes of hand-to-hand combat or hippopotamus ambushes. Nevertheless, most of the action throughout the runtime is passable, with one fight sequence featuring Dr. Braveston even playing into the video game truism of fighting off multiple enemies at once as the playable character. Additionally, although almost all of the CGI in the film is convincing, it’s regrettable that Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle harbours very few practical effects, given how heavily praised the physical elements of renowned adventure flicks like The Goonies (1985) and the first three instalments of the Indiana Jones franchise are today.

In summary, whilst it’s doubtful that Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle will be recognised for years to come as a groundbreaking 2010s blockbuster, it is a comical flick with defects, functioning as a superficial yet enjoyable soft reboot/stand-alone sequel that innovatively expands on the ideas introduced in the original Jumanji. In a bizarre way, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle almost feels like a self-actualisation teen flick set against the unusual backdrop of an adventurous video game due to its infrequent high school setting and marginal character growth. Rating: 6/10.

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The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“Oh, Yeah. Oooh, Ahhh, That’s How It Always Starts. Then Later There’s Running and Screaming…” – Dr. Ian Malcolm

Strangely dubbed; The Lost World: Jurassic Park, a title that appears to be out of order in its literary arrangement. This adventurous sequel to the timeless classic; Jurassic Park, released in 1993, was once among the most anticipated films of the 1990s. Yet, upon its initial release in 1997, The Lost World: Jurassic Park disappointed many for not living up to the lofty expectations set by the original, including Spielberg himself, who expressed disappointment with the film after becoming increasingly disenchanted with it during production. Nevertheless, I have always considered The Lost World: Jurassic Park somewhat underrated, harbouring an intriguing story and a more foreboding tone/aesthetic, which offsets some of its screenplay-centric faults.

Plot Summary: Four years after the catastrophe of Jurassic Park, the now-humbled John Hammond, strives to redeem himself by studying the well-being of the dinosaurs roaming free on InGen’s secondary site for bio-engineering, the secluded island of Isla Sorna. While assembling his team for this study, Hammond contacts the reluctant Dr. Ian Malcolm to convince him to join the expedition. Meanwhile, Hammond’s ignorant nephew, Peter Ludlow, intends to use his newly-obtained position as the CEO of InGen to capture as many of the island’s prehistoric species as possible for a new attraction opening in central San Diego…

Similar to the original film, The Lost World: Jurassic Park is loosely based on the novel of the same name by Michael Crichton and helmed by celebrated director Steven Spielberg. So, as is to be expected, under this masterful direction, The Lost World: Jurassic Park boasts several edge-of-your-seat moments, the stand outs of which are a scene that features a Tyrannosaurus Rex tandem bashing a mobile trailer over a cliff, as well as a sequence in which a Tyrannosaurus Rex rampages through San Diego destroying everything in its path, morphing the audience’s perception of dinosaurs from captivating, awe-inspiring creatures to truly terrifying prehistoric beasts, following the incident on Isla Nublar. However, as the runtime continues, it becomes increasingly evident that Spielberg desperately wanted to integrate as many of his own ideas into the framework of Crichton’s sequel novel as he could. A desire that ultimately results in the narrative becoming unfocused, eventually losing itself almost entirely near the end of the second act to concentrate on exciting dinosaur sequences.

Returning from the original film is Jeff Goldblum as Dr. Ian Malcolm, the remarkably entertaining pessimistic mathematician with a dry sense of humour. Accompanying Malcolm this time around is his adolescent daughter, Kelly Curtis, portrayed by Vanessa Lee Chester, and his palaeontologist girlfriend, Sarah Harding, portrayed by Julianne Moore, in addition to the other members of Hammond’s research team; wildlife photographer, Nick Van Owen, portrayed by Vince Vaughn, and tech expert, Eddie Carr, portrayed by Richard Schiff. Whilst every cast member turns in a solid performance, however, there is undoubtedly a lack of well-defined characters in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, as every character has a shortage of development beyond the dexterities they bring to their team. Roland Tembo, portrayed by the late Pete Postlethwaite, is perhaps the most compelling character of this particular entry in the series, being depicted as a jaded big-game hunter, determined to capture a male Tyrannosaurus Rex, single-handedly.

Swapping out the tidied facilities and tropical foliage of Jurassic Park for dim lighting, expansive forests and more intense violence, The Lost World: Jurassic Park‘s visuals are substantially darker than its predecessor, corresponding with the more downbeat tone of the narrative. Furthermore, the cinematography by Janusz Kaminski retains a tremendous sense of movement, while the film’s abundant use of marvellous CG effects, detailed miniatures and impressive life-sized animatronics effectively bring the dinosaurs (and a handful of locations) to life, all whilst demonstrating how far CGI had come since the first instalment in the franchise in ’93.

Once again composed by John Williams, the original score for The Lost World: Jurassic Park only contains minor hints towards the iconic theme and secondary motifs of Jurassic Park. Instead, the score houses much of its own appeal (not too dissimilar to how the visuals differ from the original film) as Williams constructs a different thematic and textural landscape for InGen’s Site B, a.k.a. Isla Sorna. As such, the soundtrack sheds much of the amazement and beauty of John Hammond’s prehistoric theme park for a more ominous soundscape. Excluding the film’s unfairly neglected theme; The Lost World, which is more wildlife adventure-inspired.

On a separate note, whilst its amusing to see franchise-staple dinosaurs like the Tyrannosaurus Rex and the Velociraptors return in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, I’ve always felt its a shame the filmmakers didn’t attempt to introduce a selection of lesser-known dinosaurs, especially with how many fantastic choices there are, as the carnivorous Alioramus, Majungasaurus and Spinosaurus (which would later appear in 2001’s Jurassic Park III), all would’ve served as significant threats and upped the ante for this much-anticipated sequel.

In summary, while it truthfully does pale in comparison to the original film, there is plenty to appreciate about The Lost World: Jurassic Park when viewed from a different perspective, as the film retains an overabundance of spectacle and exceptional visual effects, affirmed by the film’s Academy Award nomination for Best Visual Effects in 1998. Essentially, The Lost World: Jurassic Park is a perfect example of just how difficult it can be to craft an engaging sequel to a beloved cinema-altering blockbuster. Rating: 6/10.

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Villains (2019) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Son, I’d Blow Your Brains Out if I Thought You Had Any.” – George

Engrossing, suspenseful and darkly humorous, Villains, released in 2019, is a fast-paced crime-thriller with a sharp comedic edge. Led by a quartet of strong performances, including the likes of Bill Skarsgård and Maika Monroe as the leading pair of romantically-entangled criminals, Villains has more than a few noteworthy elements. Alongside its many qualities, however, Villains also suffers from several shortcomings, mainly in regard to the lack of style in its visuals, despite what the film’s flamboyant promotional posters would lead you to believe.

Plot Summary: On the run after robbing a local gas station, amateur lovebird criminals, Mickey and Jules, find themselves breaking into a secluded house in search of a new set of wheels. But, upon entering the quaint abode, the pair discover that the home they have stumbled into is actually the residency of a sadistic couple with more than a few dark secrets…

While never outright frightening, Villains does have a surplus of tense sequences and bloody violence to quench one’s thirst for excitement. However, these stirring moments don’t persist into the third act, as Villains‘ story actually reaches its peak absurdity during the second act, and then opts for a quieter, more emotionally resonant third act to conclude its narrative. Admittedly, this is a rather jarring decision, and the film’s pacing does suffer as a result, but it undeniably works in the characters’ favour. Furthermore, whilst not filled to the brim with plot twists and narrative subversions, the first act of Villains features enough twists and turns that I would advise those going in to go in blind as possible to get the full impact of the reveals.

Headed southbound for a fresh start in the sunshine state of Florida, the central couple of Mickey and Jules, portrayed by Bill Skarsgård and Maika Monroe, are surprisingly likeable characters in spite of being wanted criminals. Monroe is the most charismatic she’s ever been in her role as Jules, whilst Skarsgård portrays Mickey as a goofy yet considerate partner, delivering some of the film’s most amusing lines of dialogue. The pair could have easily been depicted as despicable, but Monroe and Skarsgård imbue them with such warmth and earnestness that you can’t help but root for them. As for the demented homeowners, George and Gloria, portrayed by Jeffrey Donovan and Kyra Minturn, are charismatic yet equally intimidating, portraying their characters with a subdued sense of lunacy as opposed to being overly insane to an almost comical degree. On top of the terrific performances, all of the characters receive an adequate amount of development. I’d even go so far as to say it’s unfortunate that the runtime isn’t a little longer to further flesh out the characters, as the hints of backstory we receive for some of them (particularly Gloria) are both tragic and fascinating.

Visually, Villains is somewhat flat, as the cinematography by Matt Mitchell largely relies on unremarkable close-up and mid-shots without much innovation or implementation of style. Excluding the end credits, that is, which are vibrant and chaotic, emulating a skater-like art style through its animation and font choices. Luckily, the production design fares better than the camerawork, as George and Gloria’s house is uniquely coated in 1960s decor, complete with radiant colours and a vintage television. All of the outfits that the psychotic couple sport also play into this ’60s aesthetic. Moreover, writers-directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen (Body, The Stakelander) effectively utilise the setting of George and Gloria’s home, establishing the geography of their house scene by scene so the audience has a clear understanding of where each character is in relation to one another during the many cat-and-mouse chase sequences.

The original score by Andrew Hewitt is regrettably rather generic, boasting several tracks that sound as if they were lifted from various scores from a selection of genres, from mysteries to horrors. But, on a more positive note, Villains does make sufficient use of a number of soothing instrumental pieces, such as The Free Life, Time for Romance and Looking Back on Love, which all serve as excellent contrasts to the on-screen violence and grim setup of the narrative.

Upon first viewing, it quickly becomes apparent that Villains takes a lot of influence from other crime flicks. Most notably for its protagonists, Mickey and Jules, as the pair share many similarities to the couple; Pumpkin and Honey Bunny from the opening and closing scenes of the quintessential crime flick; Pulp Fiction, released in 1994. The film even pays tribute to this specific influence through a small Easter egg, as if you look closely, you can see that Mickey has a tattoo on his wrist of Stuntman Mike’s car from 2007’s Death Proof, another flick directed by Quentin Tarantino.

In summary, Villains is an entertaining crime-thriller, but it’s also a film that continuously feels as if it’s on the cusp of something extraordinary, yet it never quite reaches whatever that may be. While the performances are solid and the plot is engaging, the almost total absence of style and flair is exceedingly difficult to ignore. Still, Villains has enough of its own offbeat energy to avoid merely coming across as an assemblage of two young filmmakers’ cinematic influences, which is more than can be said for many modern releases. Rating: 6/10.

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Apollo 18 (2011) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“You Knew Something Was Down There… and You Sent Them Anyway.” – John Grey

Directed by Gonzalo López-Gallego (King of the Hill, The Open Grave, The Hollow Point), Apollo 18 is an intriguing (if infrequently enthralling) found-footage fusion of period-accurate space-flight procedures, U.S. government conspiracy theories and 1970s creature features. Presenting itself as authentic NASA footage through granular shots from astronauts’ suit cams and Lunar Module cameras alike, Apollo 18 is an interesting filmmaking experiment, to be sure. But, as far as its storytelling is concerned, the film is unlikely to leave an impact on general audiences, though it may appeal to a few sci-fi-horror fanatics.

Plot Summary: When decades-old footage from NASA’s abandoned Apollo 18 mission is uncovered, documenting astronauts, Benjamin Anderson, Nathan Walker and John Grey, as they embark on a classified mission to collect geological samples. The ageing footage reveals a disturbing explanation as to why the U.S. has never attempted another mission to the moon…

A mere six months after the triumph of Apollo 11, NASA renounced its plans for Apollo 20 in January, 1970. Soon after, Apollo 18 and 19 were cancelled in the wake of NASA’s planned budgetary cuts for 1971. By this point, public interest in space exploration had declined since Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin’s trip to the moon, with minimal attention paid to Apollo 12. As a result, many newspaper editorials and public figures began calling for the upcoming missions to be cancelled and for the money to be spent on eliminating poverty across America instead. Consequently, many conspiracy theories regarding why NASA never attempted another trip to the moon arose, which is where the filmmakers found their inspiration for the story. And whilst much of this inspiration is rather apparent, it’s even more apparent that the screenwriters lifted a lot from the original Alien (1979), with a later plot twist feeling as if it was ripped straight from the sci-fi-horror classic. To its credit, though, Apollo 18 has no shortage of technically-accurate dialogue throughout its screenplay.

In regard to the cast, Warren Christie, Lloyd Owen and Ryan Robbins are all understated in their performances. Even when their situation escalates, and it becomes increasingly obvious that there is little chance any of them will make it off the moon, the cast reign in their performances so as to not fall into the trap of screaming and wailing for the entire runtime, a common issue many entries into the found-footage subgenre suffer from. Having said that, Apollo 18 does suffer from another well-known shortcoming of found-footage flicks; one-note characters. As, despite the film only containing three characters (excluding the transmissions), the screenplay never takes the time to develop any of them beyond some brief interviews during the first act, introducing each of the astronauts by name.

In addition to utilising a large amount of NASA stock footage to depict the period-accurate space-flight technology and procedures, Apollo 18 was shot using camera lenses from the ’70s, enhancing the visual authenticity of its grainy aesthetic. Furthermore, through a combination of visual effects and sets, Apollo 18 manages to create a convincing imitation of the moon’s barren surface, harkening back to the hours of mission coverage that kept television spectators entertained during the heyday of the Apollo program. Due to this, José David Montero’s cinematography is able to perfectly capture the essence of the cratered lunar landscape, along with the cramped, claustrophobic interiors of the Apollo Lunar Module, making for an ever-present discomfiting atmosphere.

While the original score by Harry Cohen consists of merely a single sombre track for the end credits, the sound design throughout Apollo 18 is quite effective with the continuous breathing from the astronauts’ helmets, as well as the constant static and technical malfunctions of the cameras sounding eerie yet not absurdly frightening as to take away from the sense of realism and isolation that the visuals induce.

A likely divisive aspect of Apollo 18 will be its preference for showing very little for most of its runtime, with a large majority of the story acting out like any routine NASA mission. When Apollo 18 finally reveals what the malevolent threat lurking on the surface of the moon is, however, the film takes a sharp turn into body horror as its malicious, spider-like creatures infiltrate the lunar module and later the astronauts’ suits. And whilst this approach to the horror elements could have worked should the film have stuck with it, Apollo 18 is more of a slow-paced thriller up to that point. So, these sequences of body horror end up seeming somewhat out of place. Additionally, while this complaint undoubtedly comes down to preference, I feel that the designs of the creatures aren’t all that frightening. So much so, I imagine the only audience members that will be terrified of the extraterrestrial entities will be those with severe arachnophobia or petraphobia, both exceedingly rare phobias.

In summary, Apollo 18 certainly had potential, but as a result of its lack of polish, the film is rarely able to provoke intrigue or an underlining sense of dread to the degree it wants to. Nevertheless, Apollo 18 is a unique film, a largely entertaining found-footage sci-fi-horror with an unnerving atmosphere, capitalising on the claustrophobia of 1970s space travel. And while the film isn’t for everyone, I enjoyed Apollo 18 on account of its period-accurate visuals and surprisingly true-to-life sets and technical details. Rating: 6/10.

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