Are you Afraid of the Dark?

So Katie Holmes has been released from the Cruise home once again to return to her original career (prior to being Mrs Cruise) as actress. This annual occurrence sees her in the remake of the 70’s horror, Don’t be afraid of the Dark. Not to be confused with the 90’s children’s TV show, Are you afraid of the Dark, in which a group of children sat around a camp fire, burning the same 3 logs, and exchanging ghostly tales. No! This is a story in which a young girl, Sally, goes to live with her father and step-mother, in an eerie manor house. Maybe it is the grandeur of the house itself, with its dark corners and looming staircases, far from the semi-detached homes of many twentieth century westerners, that makes it immediately unnerving. However, a part from the preordained imagery of the “scary house”, there is very little else in this film that had me reaching for the nearest pillow.

What the film lacked in continuity it replaced in longevity. Instead of explaining itself, it just kept going; apparently adopting an “it will call come out in the wash” narrative style. Regardless of the films inclusion of the traditional horror characters, all of them failed to fulfil their preordained and pre-scripted roles. A frustrating example of this is that of the male housekeeper (son of the previous housekeeper) whose character continuously displays a esoteric knowledge of an antecedent event, which he never discloses to the family, ergo, failing to install the crucial initial level of doubt into one of the family member’s minds. Then in a Shining-like instance, he is removed from the house, hitherto the story, before he can. The British maid of the house, similarly, confused me. I have been indoctrinated to believe that British maids in horror films either, A – are aware of the house’s terrifying past and remain within to provide a level of protection to the unknowing owners, or B – are in on it! In this instance, neither was implied. Alternatively, I was left with a nescient old woman whose role was limited to responding to frequent screams and ensuring the set remained clean whilst a suitable level of creepy dirtiness was maintained.

The personification of evil/ threat in the film was manifested in the forms of multiple mal-nourished gremlins. Unfortunately for this film, one of my person pet hates in horror is the prolonged exposure of creatures, ghosts, demons and so forth. When they are not the narrative lead. For example in Beetlejuice (1988) the spirits are central characters and we must, therefore, be able to see them in order to identify with them and their story. Whereas, Incideous (2011), similarly to Don’t be afraid of the Dark, continually exposes the creatures/ spirits, allowing the audience to become accustomed to the form and, therefore, removes the aspect of the unknown – which for me is the critical in generating fear. Individual imagination has the capacity to create something significantly more terrifying than a collective idea of what is scary, because our minds can curate using our own fears. This is why shadows and images out of the corner of the eye always seem to evoke more fear than a midget demon which pinball eyes and a significantly enlarged ribcage. Add to that there is something abnormally cute about them, they are so small, and I’m sure with a good meal and some love and affection they would be ideal pets. I am adamant the owner of Vodermort cat would love these little devils!

Overall, this film has disillusioned my prior admiration for del Toro's horror capabilities, and left me continuing my search for a good old horror film.

Le Retour de Tintin

The latest feature in blockbuster animation exploded onto our screens earlier this month, and, I was a victim of its well constructed trailers which continues to leave you wanting more. Oh, and wondering... “Does Tintin have a head in this movie?” The use of medium shots to add the mystery to Tintin’s facial physicality was frustratingly affective and lured me to the doors of my nearest cinema.

I will confess Tintin was by no means my childhood comic of choice; it was not even one in a selection. However, through the years I have encountered various Tintin cartoons, in an entourage of the children’s tv shows of the late 90’s/ early 00’s. I have also since read a comic or two, albeit in the home of a friend, whose bathroom is clattered with Tintin nostalgia (which I have come to understand as normal for French households). I should also highlight these comics were in French, and my level of proficiency in French is... incommunicable and honestly, there is only so long you can spend trying to translate a language, that you have little working knowledge of, in a toilet without the residents of the household becoming curious to your engagements in faecal activities.

However, it was not my love or lack of, for the comic that drew me to this screening, not at all! It was an element of film that typically and frustratingly goes unnoticed. I didn’t go for a pre-pubescent 30 years old detective/ journalist; I went for the writers! With a writing trio including Edgar Wright, Joe Cornish and Steven Moffat who could resist? With a repertoire including TV shows such as Spaced, Sherlock, The Adam and Joe Show and films such as Scott Pilgrim V’s the world, Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz and Attack the Block, it has been continually proven that these guys know their shit!

The cast also provides a reassuring selection of British actors, whose previous acting accomplishments, allow the viewer to (maybe naively) close their eye of acting scrutiny and focus centrally on the visual and narrative construction of the film. To provide a polar to this, the performances of Kieran Knightly usually cause me muscular spasms prior to even entering the cinema.

The film was true to its comic origin, with one particular action scene continuing from action to action to action, just as one would find in a comic. I found it almost impossible to catch my breath, so goodness knows how poor Tintin felt as he was flown from a car upon collision, where upon he grasps a conveniently placed rope which he uses to swing him onto a rooftop (narrowing avoiding imminent death) where after he slides down a poll and so on and so on.  As much as I found it demanding as a viewer, I found the intentions admirable. I don’t remember the intermission in the superhero’s final battle where he/she takes five to catch a breath – though as a smoker and prolific anti-gym advocate, I would have understood. However, the play with comic narrative and film was not for the realistics, it was for the adolescents (where it be physical or emotional).

In line with this, the imagery was picturesque and vibrant. The colours of the film mirrored the basic block colours of the comic whether it be the blue of the ocean or the yellow of the sand, there seemed little intention to personify the film through colour. However, this seemed to contradict the complexity of the animation, it was far from Disney, Pixar or Ghibli that I anticipated on hearing of the film’s production.

Though, it is impossible not to find yourself in awe of the rapid development in animation over the past 10 years, and though this is not the animation of my generation it certainly is for this generation. I am beginning to understand what it must have felt like for the pre-sound generation when the Jazz Singer debuted.However, regardless of my sceptical nature towards “new” animation, I found the film captivating and a little bit enchanting – though that may be my adolescent side talking!

Return of a classic

So that is one giant tick from my bucket list! Last night I attend the screening of Ghostbusters, as it returned to UK cinemas for 1 night only (at least for multi-chain cinemas). There is something significantly different about watching a film in the cinema; compared to at home on DVD. There are sounds and sights that seem to go unnoticed on the small screen, which are impossible to miss on a screen larger that the external wall of the average terraced home. Though I have seen Ghostbusters numerous times on DVD, to see it in the cinema, for me, was to see a whole new film. And as I sat in my red felt seat, gazing up to the screen I could feel a surge of both anticipation and excitement pulse through my limbs and torso as that oh so distinctive and welcoming theme tune began!

Many of you know the plotline of the film and those of you who don’t: "Where the heck have you been? Go to your local DVD rental store, hire Ghostbusters and watch it!" So for you almost extinct minority, the plotline follows a trio of scientists who endeavour to pursuit a career in ghostbusting (hunting menacing spirits, which are plaguing the city of New york - at a small fee!) With a classic cast, including Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis as the Ghostbusters, it is impossible not to love this film for their sheer acting brilliance! I have to confess, that this film also boasts the single occasion in which I can tolerate Sigourney Weaver's acting - which usually consists of drab, predicable and a little robotic - which is maybe why she harnesses the spirit of Zuul so effectively?

As I previously mentioned, cinema viewing is significantly greater than DVD viewing for several reasons, one being that you see and hear things that can go unnoticed on a 14" or even 32" tv. One of these classic moments (which was a totally new experience for myself) was as the streets of New York collapse outside the doomed apartment complex. As the Ghostbusters fall under the streets, you hear a solitary voice from the crowd, in a monotonic and, considering the circumstances, quiet tone call "Oh no Ghostbusters!" Which had me in tears; but they do say it is the simple things in life!

So for those of you, who did miss out, do not fear, as this will probably be just one of many classic pieces of film to return to the big screen, with some local cinemas running special return screenings on a monthly basis. I urge you, one and all, to go see your favourite movie on the big screen as no matter how well you know it - there will be something new for you there!

Until next time....

Has all the rum dried up?

Bruce Robinson’s highly anticipated Rum Diary flew onto screens last week; with a cocktail of reviews from critics. Based on Hunter S. Thompson’s novel of the same title, the story portrays the life of Paul Kemp, a journalist with the potential for success, but  hindered by a taste for alcohol and a leniency towards psychedelics. This is the latest instalment of Thompson’s self-stylised “Gonzo” literature to be translated to film. The latter being the controversial Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, in which we again see Johnny Depp as Thompson’s drug and alcohol fuelled alter ego, as Bill Murray had done some years before in Where the Buffalo Roam.

It is widely known and accepted that both Murray and Depp had immersed themselves in Thompson’s chaotic world so to fully dissect Thompson’s, somewhat, fractured personae. Both Murray and Depp’s performances were highly regarded by critics and Thompson fans alike, their mirror-like performances of Thompson were complimented by their own anti-poster boy lives (at the time) and the mixture was a success. So what changed with the Rum Diary?

Visually; the film is a beautiful mixture of white sands, clear water and blue skies, with a simple acid-like injection and maybe it is this romanticism of the films imagery that fractures its foundations. The narrative was lifted straight from the novel, however, the film seemingly lost the honest and poetic narrative became overshadowed by the traditional Hollywood designed love story. Depp’s passion, for all that is Thompson, is clear and his performance is calculated and well delivered. However, there is something absent for me; aesthetically Depp fails to attain the level of accessibility he did as Raol Duke (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas), and that Murray achieves in Where the Buffalo Roam. Depp’s now Hollywood appearance detracts from Kemp’s alcohol marinated lifestyle, which we can assume, would be physically resonant, and this ultimately transformed the amusement of Kemp’s quirky and unhinged character into idiocracy.

Depp’s friendship with Thompson and Hunter’s death were clear catalysts for the film’s production. However, I feel the role of Kemp should have been passed on to another; such was the case from Murray to Depp, to the non-conformist actor of the next generation; whoever that may be...

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