WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Kiwi-Vamp MockDoc via VSC

VLADISLAV ENJOYS, uh, IMPALING, or rather, POKING.

1. A Fine Mess

2. Erotic Dance

3. Big Grumpy Pants

4. Impaling is always Fun

What We Do In The Shadows (2014)

Dir. Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi

Starring: Jemaine Clement, Taika Waititi, Jonathan Brugh, Ben Fransham, Cori Gonzalez-Macuer, Stuart Rutherford, Jackie van Beek, Rhys Darby

Review By Greg Klymkiw

I should have hated this movie, but I couldn't. It's too good-natured and funny not to like. We're talking mockumentary, here. The subjects are vampires in New Zealand in the modern world. Just imagine a slightly broader This is Spinal Tap with blood-sucking before you go in and you're going to be just fine. I went in expecting nothing, mind you, but was rewarded with consistent laughs and often found myself soaring with joyous ebullience.

The set-up is pretty basic. A documentary crew (who always stay behind camera and don't ever appear as characters a la Rob Reiner in Spinal Tap) is granted permission to capture the daily lives of vampires (with a solemn oath that they'll never be attacked).

We're introduced to a "family" of four bloodsuckers and unlike our traditional notion of the undead living solitary lives in out-of-the-way castles, these fellas live in a sprawling dwelling in Wellington, New Zealand as - get this - flatmates.

Viago (Taika Waititi) is a bit frilly and foppish and takes on the role of fuss-budget den mother - always reminding his co-habitants of their household duties (sweeping, dusting, doing dishes and not leaving bloody spinal columns on the floor).

Vladislav (Jemaine Clement) is a long-haired, moustachioed satyr who hails from an Eastern European tradition of impaling, though he prefers to call it "poking".

Deacon (Jonathan Brugh) is the youngest and hence, most immature of the bunch, complaining about having to lift even the slightest finger to fulfil his responsibilities as a flatmate.

Deep in the bowels of the basement lives the eldest of the group, Petyr (Ben Fransham), a grumpy, 8000-year-old Max Schrek (or depending on your cup of Nosferatu, Klaus Kinski) lookalike.

The camera crew conducts one-on-one interviews with the oddball assortment of vampires in addition to capturing their day-to-day activities. The lads especially enjoy nights on the town (save for Petyr, who seldom leaves the basement, preferring victims to be dragged downstairs for him) and we get to enjoy our sidewalk-sashaying nocturnal undead buds roaming about, making like Dion and the Belmonts' The Wanderers.

Vampire Jam Session

Alas, these oddly-attired "nerds" are refused entry to all the hottest clubs and usually end up in the same joint, a decidedly uncool watering hole full of others of their uncool ilk. Here they usually meet up with their human "slave" Jackie (Jackie van Beek) who not only cleans up their messes, but most importantly, procures victims for them to dine upon. Poor Jackie is infected with the vampire bug, but only enough to do the fellas' bidding.

Nick - Master Clubber

She longs for eternal life and wants it sooner rather than later. She feels she's in her prime and wants to stay that way forever. How long can a girl be expected to procure? One of the victims she does indeed appropriate for the lads is the youthful Nick (Cori Gonzalez-Macuer). Rather than decimating him entirely, he's drained completely of blood and turned into a vampire himself, thus becoming a new flatmate. Good thing too.

Nick's quite the man about town and gets his pals into all the hottest nightclubs.

IT-whiz Stu introduces
our vampires to the INTERNET!

The only thing that troubles Nick, though, is not having the company of his best friend, the computer geek Stu (Stuart Rutherford). He cuts a deal with the other vampires to bring Stu into his confidence and into their private world - unmolested. This turns out to be the best deal ever for the fellas since Stu's an IT-whiz during his day job and soon has the vampires hooked on YouTube, Skype, FaceBook and all manner of cyber-shenanigans.

There's a tiny bit of conflict that creeps into the movie involving their natural rivals, the werewolves of Wellington and Nick's less-than-discrete bad habit of telling everyone he knows (or barely knows) that he and his buds are vampires. This brings far too much unwanted attention upon them including a genuine vampire hunter and visits from the local constabulary.

The film eventually builds to an absolutely insane climax when the lads attend an annual ball of vampires, witches and zombies which furthermore spills over into a potentially deadly conflict with the werewolves. None of this, however, is ever scary, though there's a decent amount of tension and plenty of surprises to be had.

All in all, this group of bloodsuckers prove to be genuinely charming and likeable fellows and the movie injects all the tropes and lore of vampirism into the proceedings to keep genre fans constantly delighted. The running time is mercifully short and the picture never overstays its welcome. Happily, the camera crew do capture more than a few chases and kills, but they're never offensively complicit in their actions like, for example, the filmmakers in the vaguely reprehensible Man Bites Dog. The mock-doc is true to the genre and we're never presented with the sort of gaffes that can, in lesser examples of the ilk, takes us completely out of the forward thrust of the piece.

WHOOPSIE-DAISY: A BLEEDING MESS!

Though I might have preferred some of the performances to be slightly less over-played, nobody is ever egregiously tongue-in-cheek. Surprisingly, the movie is full of moments that are genuinely sweet and, I kid you not, rather touching. God knows, mock-docs and vampire pictures have been done to death, but What We Do In The Shadows always feels fresh, funny and yes, occasionally original. The movie is also blessed with a terrific song score (including weird recurring themes of klezmer-like Romanian foot-tappers) wonderful makeup, digital and wire effects, plus some dazzling stunt work.

My only major quibble is that there are simply not enough babes in the movie. Yes, there are a few, but they take a major back seat to the fellas and what red-blooded genre-geek doesn't want a good amount of babe action?

Well, this writer, for one, but even I had to concede that my grumblings about the dearth of babes eventually fell upon my own deaf ears. These guys are a riot!

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *** 3-Stars

What We Do In The Shadows is currently in theatrical platform release throughout Canada via VSC (Video Services Corp). Upcoming playdates include:

February 13 opening:
TORONTO - Scotiabank Theatre
MONTREAL - Cinema Cineplex Forum
VANCOUVER - Cineplex International Village

February 20 opening:
OTTAWA - SilverCity Gloucester
CALGARY - Select CINEPLEX Locations

February 27 opening:
WINNIPEG - SilverCity Polo Park

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In Canada - BUY What We Do In The Shadows HERE, eh!

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BOY - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Some Kiwi Treacle to warm your cockles or to upchuck bile. The highest grossing New Zealand movie of all time. Surely this must say something. What, exactly, I'm not sure.

Boy (2010) dir. Taika Waititi

Starring: James Rolleston, Taika Waititi, Te Aho Aho Eketone-Whitu

**

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Call me cold-hearted. Call me an asshole. Call me a curmudgeon. Call me anything you like. You can even call me Shirley. Whatever epithets you fling my way, nothing will change the fact that I pretty much detested Boy.

Yes, I know. It's New Zealand's darling. It's the highest grossing indigenous picture from Kiwi Island of all time, a film festival favourite, a winner of numerous Grand Prizes, Jury Accolades, Audience Awards and the recipient of a ridiculous number of rave reviews (including some from critics who should know better). Really. The last time I checked it had some ridiculous 87% on the meter over at Rotten Tomatoes and a Metacritic score of 70%.

Are these people out of their minds?

Or am I?

After all, how could anyone detest such a harmless piece of fluff?

It's easy.

The movie is very warm and fuzzy.

It's awash in (UGH!!!) nostalgic pining for the 80s.

It's about poor, but happy Kiwi aboriginal people.

It's a movie where the protagonists are Michael Jackson lovers.

And it's whimsical.

Have I mentioned the whimsy, yet?

Well, now I have.

Whimsical.

Is there any word in the English language that releases more bile than that? If there is, I'd like to know what it is.

Or maybe it doesn't make you vomit. Maybe, you'd actually enjoy this treacle involving the title character (James Rolleston), a lad whose Mum has died (boo-hoo-hoo), lives in a squalid, old house full of goats, chickens and a veritable ant colony of his cousins and half cousins and God knows what other relatives Granny is taking care of?

Have I mentioned yet that they're poor, but happy?

Maybe you'll flip completely over the lad's whimsical imagination that conjures up fantasies of his brother (Te Aho Aho Eketone-Whitu) having (UGH!!!) magical powers.

Maybe you'll be doing the bloody Moonwalk when Boy indulges himself in fantasies and fan worship of Michael Jackson.

And maybe, just maybe, you'll find it touching that Boy pines for his Dad (Taika Waititi) - M.I.A. from the family unit for many long years and probably in prison as opposed to being on the grand adventures the lad imagines his erstwhile progenitor to be having.

Maybe you'll rejoice when Dad finally shows up and proves to be a loveable rascal. Accompanied by a couple of bumbling thugs, they've really returned to find the money they stole and buried in a field across from the family home. Maybe you'll be slapping your knee uncontrollably over the fact that Dad forgets exactly where he buried it and everyone begins digging holes all over the property.

Lord knows, I was trying to laugh, but was distracted by just how good to be alive this movie was supposed to be making me feel. (I remember seeing Rain Man first-run and as the end titles came up, I looked blankly at my friend and he looked blankly at me, and in perfect deadpan he remarked, "I guess we're supposed to feel something, huh?")

And when the moments came when Dad talks about how much he loved Boy's Mum, I know I was supposed to be moved to tears, but was distracted by a movement in my bowels. I did not succumb. I clenched my gluteal muscles with all my strength and kept watching.

I didn't want to miss a thing.

And I didn't.

Somehow I don't think my life was richer for it.

What I do know, is that my life was indeed richer for seeing Matthew McConaughey forcing someone at gunpoint to fellate a KFC drumstick in William Friedkin's Killer Joe.

Choose your whimsy wisely, ladies and gentlemen.

You might find it in the most unexpected places.

"Boy" is playing theatrically via Mongrel Media and premiered first-run in Toronto at the TIFF Bell Lightbox.

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