Showing posts with label Witches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Witches. Show all posts

Sunday, 17 July 2016

THE LOVE WITCH - FANTASIA 2016 - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Witchy Carnal Gymnastics

The Love Witch (2016)
Dir. Anna Biller
Starring: Samantha Robinson, Gian Keys,
Laura Waddell, Jeffrey Vincent Parise, Robert Seeley

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Babes, witches, devil worship, black magic and sex, sex and more sex were the mainstay of a lovely sub-genre of 70s Euro-Horror that nobody in their right mind could outright dismiss. American counterparts amongst these garishly-coloured bonbons never quite lived up to the titillation quotient of Euro sleaze masters like Jean Rollin, Jesus Franco, et al, but no matter, director Anna Biller more than makes up for Uncle Sam's lack of quality output with her very own contemporary masterwork of delectably naughty feculence.

Mega-babe Elaine (Samantha Robinson) has left San Francisco and a mysteriously malevolent past behind her. Resettling in a small town in Redwood country at the behest of some "white" witches, Elaine soon unleashes her genuine powers of "black" magic upon a variety of studs. Plenty of carnal gymnastics, nudity and murder follow. We should all be lucky enough to have someone like Elaine to love us to death.


Biller creates a sumptuous, sex-drenched tale, shot in gloriously garish colour (in 35mm no less), parading ritual and rapture in equal measure. Those acquainted with the cinematic world she recreates (with a few new frissons) will have nothing to complain about. Those who aren't quite as abreast of it, might still derive pleasure from this diverting carnal romp. The rest can go to church.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *** 3-Stars

The Love Witch is an Oscilloscope Release enjoying its Canadian Premiere at Fantasia 2016.

Saturday, 19 December 2015

THE INHABITANTS - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Beantown-Based Bros Deliver New Goods


Elise Couture in the shower!!!
The Inhabitants
Director/Writers:
Michael Rasmussen,
Shawn Rasmussen
Starring:
Elise Couture,
Michael Reed,
India Pearl,
Judith Chaffee,
Rebecca Whitehouse

Review By
Greg Klymkiw


What's not to like about the Rasmussens? Those sicko siblings from Beantown wrote an ideal screenplay for John Carpenter (The Ward) and loaded it with babes in an asylum. Their directorial debut, Dark Feed, had a zero-budget movie crew shooting a horror movie (with babes, 'natch) on location in an abandoned asylum.

Now they've concocted a whole new delight.

With The Inhabitants, the Rasmussen Brothers drag you into a labyrinth of utter terror in this creepy, atmospheric haunted house thriller in the tradition of classic horror cinéma from masters like Robert Wise (The Haunting), Jack Clayton (The Innocents) and Val Lewton (uh, all of them, but notably The Curse of The Cat People and I Walked With a Zombie). There are even of dollops of homage to Dan Curtis (Burnt Offerings), John Hancock (Let's Scare Jessica To Death) and Peter Medak (famed Canuck horror classic The Changeling). Make no mistake, though, this is no geek tribute mash-up. Though the inspirations are clear, the boys have generated a rip-snorter which works in its own horrific ways in a contemporary context.

What's in there? Implements, perhaps?

In spite of its ultra-low budget pedigree, the picture looks terrific, especially since it was shot on location in the historic (and creepy) 1699 New England domicile, The Noyes-Parris House. It was owned by the (in)famous whack-job Rev. Samuel Parris, daddy-kins of Betty Parris and uncle to Abigail Williams, the two bratty sicko gals who made the accusations that led to the Salem Witch Trials.

IMPLEMENTS OF BIRTHING

These Rasmussen Beaux are mighty ingenious. They know how to stretch a buck so it doesn't look like a buck and on top of that, with their two first features, they managed to secure locations and use them well - locations that many low budget filmmakers would never know how to sniff out (and even if they did, they'd find excuses not to use them, or worse, use them improperly).

The Inhabitants begins with a nice slow burn. There are few rocky moments in this expositional portion of the film (mostly involving a slightly wooden performance from one of the supporting players), but at least these moments are bracketed by an eerie credit sequence and one excellent super-creepy performance by Judith Chaffee as a dementia-addled old woman. Once the movie blasts off, and this doesn't take long, you pretty much perch yourself on the edge of your seat and stay there.

One can never get enough of Elise Couture in the shower.

The Coffeys, Jessica (Elise Couture) and Dan (Michael Reed), are a young couple on the verge of making their dream come true. Dan has a well paying job which occasionally calls him to the big city and his hot wifey has always wanted to run a bed and breakfast - a perfect scenario for them to start a family. Whilst getting a tour of an old New England home already outfitted as such, they have, alas, no idea what they're going to be up against.

Its former owner, Aunt Rose (the aforementioned Chaffee) is about to be shoved into an assisted-living asylum by her babe-o-licious real estate saleslady niece (Rebecca Whitehouse). It seems Rose ran the place for decades with her late hubby, but since his death, she's pretty much fallen to pieces. Even as Jessica and Dan view the property, Rose glowers at them with a combination of fear and malevolence.

The entire house is outfitted with a combination of extremely old (antique) and relatively new furnishings. When asking about this cornucopia of chattels, the niece innocently declares that "the furniture belongs to the house". Little does she, nor its new owners know, that plenty more belongs to the house.

Our sexy couple (he's a handsome, well-hung hunk and she's one fetching straight-haired-brunette drink o' water with a bod fit for a girl-next-door Playboy model) are plenty happy with the place, but even they're scratching their noggins over Aunt Rose's parting words to them:

"Take care of the children."

BATTY AUNT ROSE and CREEPY UNCLE NORMAN

Turns out old, batty Rose and her departed hubby (hilariously named Norman) never had kiddies. Curiously, Lydia (India Pearl), the wife of the original owner of the "March Carriage House" from some 350 years back was, like doddering Aunt Rose, a barren woman. No matter, the long-departed Lydia faithfully served as a midwife to the earliest colonists, bringing many little ones into the world. (This explains the creepy "birthing chair" with straps and faded blood stains our couple find in the basement along with a set of grim-looking implements which seem better employed at an abattoir.)

Lydia, of course, was eventually hung as a witch. Soon after, many of the community's children went missing and were occasionally spotted wandering in the woods as if Lydia was beckoning to them. (Hint-Hint: Lydia has already been attached in this review to an actress. Figure it out, eh.)

Once the insanely attractive Coffey couple has settled into the joint, we soon get a crap-inducing scary sequence where nutty Aunt Rose makes an unexpected appearance in the middle of the night. Later on, Aunt Rose makes another appearance where she bares her bloodied, pus-ridden chest and utters:

"The children need to be fed."

IT IS IMPORTANT FOR HORROR FILMS
TO HAVE BABES (for the fellas) &
WELL-HUNG HUNKS (for the ladies).

Clearly, none of this bodes well.

The Inhabitants, though hardly the most original ghost story in the world (though it gets points for the witch background and the clearly butcher-like midwifery), is an extremely effective one and its final two thirds emit plenty of shudders, shocks and, you guessed it, bloodletting.

Throughout, there are the requisite bumps and creaks in the night, plenty of shadows moving about, several chill-inducing Ghost-Cam POVs, some superb bathtub-shower shenanigans, one especially hot sex scene (mediated via a perspective best experienced when you see the movie) and eventually some heart-stopping appearances of shit nobody wants to see anytime, anywhere - especially not in a creepy old house with way too many secret nooks and crannies full of all sorts of grotesqueries.

Don't fall to the floor with THIS coming your way.

On their own, Jessica and Dan respectively discover some really freaky secrets which affect them, predictably, but realistically within the context of the story, in terms of their loving marriage turning into something altogether malevolent. (Oh, and not that it gets to the extremes of Lars von Trier, there's even a dollop of scare-inducing gymnastics which place you in shuddery AntiChrist territory.)

Overall, this is a superbly crafted little picture - nicely shot and edited with the kind of skill one demands of any horror film - happily with a minimum of shock cuts, but plenty of shocks nonetheless. The Rasmussen Brothers have served up another nicely crafted genre delight and one that moves them forward as well as signalling even greater things to come.

One of the nice things is that they have unconsciously, I think, infused the movie with the kind of indigenous regional qualities which enhance such low budget indie horror items. It's the cherry on the sundae, so to speak. A nice, blood red cherry at that.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars

The Inhabitants is distributed by Gravitas Ventures and can be accessed via multiple VOD platforms including iTunes, Amazon Video, Vudu, Google Play, Xbox LIVE, Sony Playstation, various cable providers, and more. Alas, the picture really warranted some manner of big-screen play, but no matter. It's out there and available.

THE INHABITANTS WILL BE AVAILABLE ON BLU-RAY VIA FilmRise. FEEL FREE TO ORDER A COPY FROM THE AMAZON LINK BELOW. DOING SO WILL CONTRIBUTE TO THE ONGOING MAINTENANCE OF THE FILM CORNER:

Friday, 23 October 2015

THE LAST WITCH HUNTER - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Hopefully the first and LAST!!!

"I'm hoping this franchise can transform me into a Steve Reeves for the New Millennium."

The Last Witch Hunter (2015)
Dir. Breck Eisner
Starring: Vin Diesel (dubbed "Not His Real Name" by the late, great film critic John Harkness), Michael Caine, Rose Leslie, Elijah Wood, Ólafur Darri Ólafsson

Review By Greg Klymkiw

One doesn't go to a movie entitled The Last Witch Hunter expecting a masterpiece, especially when its lead is played by Vin ("Not His Real Name") Diesel, the bald, vaguely simian wiseacre star of the Fast and Furious and XXX franchises who, it seems, is seeking a whole new persona to exploit in yet another potential franchise. In fact, one expects something considerably lower on the rung when its revealed that the director will be Breck (Sahara, The Crazies) Eisner, a man who has yet to direct anything resembling a good movie.

In spite of these strikes against it, one grits ones teeth and hopes the movie will at least be fun on the level of 50s/60s Italian sword and sandal epics starring the likes of Steve Reeves. For the first few minutes, with Diesel traipsing about some Middle Ages fantasy setting with a ludicrous bushy beard and wielding a humungous sword, one believes that the modest hopes one had going in might blossom into something a bit more enjoyable.

Unfortunately, Diesel's character is defeated by the head honcho of all witches and cursed with eternal life and banished to an eternity of always remembering he didn't avenge the murder of his wife and child. That said, he becomes a witch hunter and, for a few hundred years he's been decimating "bad" witches all over the place.

"Look, this babe behind me has such a bad speech impediment I can't understand a word she says. Can we use some witchcraft to fix this up?"

For the rest of this movie, Diesel (sans beard) lives high atop the city in a swanky Manhattan pad and continues his vendetta against witches who refuse to live peacefully with humans. He even has a sidekick in the form of a Catholic priest played by Michael Caine (who no doubt earned a sizeable cheque to pay for a few more mansions in the sky). When Sir Michael is savagely tortured and left for dead, Diesel not only gets mad, he's going to get even. Related to this injustice is the fact that some bad witches are about to release a plague upon New York, so the Diesel-meister is going to have his hands full. The Catholics, always on top of such matters, give him a new Holy mortal sidekick in the form of a young priest (Elijah Wood) who means well, but is lacking the know-how of his predecessor.

Even all this might have been palatable if it wasn't for the fact that the movie gets increasingly convoluted and stupid. Stupid is fine, but once its commingled with convolutions, it becomes deadly. Add to this an uninspired villain (Ólafur Darri Ólafsson) and a horrendous leading lady (Rose Leslie, she of the speech impediment which renders all her lines to mush and a grating high-pitched voice which is probably enough to send canines the world over into a tizzy rivalling the silent dog whistles one can buy from ads at the back of comic books) and worst of all, a character working both sides of the good/evil coin that we can see from the first minute he appears on screen, we know - beyond a shadow of any doubt - that this picture is going to be a boring stinker.

One of the most repulsive screen kisses in recent memory.

Eisner's non-direction proves he's not even grasped basic skill sets to put him in hack territory. He simply has no idea of where to place his camera and the action scenes are all a miss-mashed mess.

Diesel has apparently announced a sequel is in the works. Let's hope it quietly goes the way of the Dodo. That said, I'd be up for a Fast and Furious sequel which offers Diesel in full-on sword-and-sandal beard. Now that, could be a howler worth enjoying.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: * One-Star

The Last Witch Hunter is a Lions Gate production in release world wide via eOne.

Friday, 19 June 2015

MARK OF THE DEVIL - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Arrow Video Restores Deliciously Vile 70s Witchfinding Torture Shocker to its Original Glory on a sumptuous Blu-Ray equivalent to Criterion Collection standards


Mark of the Devil (1970)
Dir. Michael Armstrong
Starring: Udo Kier, Herbert Lom, Reggie Nalder,
Olivera Katarina aka Olivera Vuco, Herbert Fux, Gaby Fuchs

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Translated from Hexen bis aufs Blut gequält into the Queen's English from German, the exquisitely Teutonic appellation of this classic 1970 shocker is Witches Tortured Until They Bleed.


Our ultra-Catholic friends in Italy affixed an equally tantalizing monicker: La Tortura Delle Vergini, or, in lingua inglese, The Torture of Virgins.


We, of course, know and love the picture as the far more genteel Mark of the Devil, but ultimately, whichever way one comes to appreciate this infamously vile shot-in-Bavaria German-UK co-production, it's guaranteed to bring joy to all eyes bearing witness to it. Well, "all" eyes with a clear path to that tainted chunk o' brain matter which can truly appreciate this sickeningly effective answer to Michael Reeves' 1968 cult masterpiece Witchfinder General -- those lucky souls will be the true beneficiaries of the delights found within the fully restored Arrow Video edition of it.


Though it might not have the borderline art-house credibility of Witchfinder General, Mark of the Devil is, in its own right, a fine addition to all the magnificently entertaining Euro-Trash witch torture exploitation items from the 60s and 70s. Not only is the torture of the highest standards, but the movie is damn compelling from a story standpoint.

Count Christian von Meruh (a character with a name like this could only be played by Udo Kier), a handsome young apprentice witch finder, accompanies his learned experienced mentor, the dastardly Lord Cumberland (Herbert Lom) to clean up the corruption in a small town, not so much to stop torture and executions, but to make sure the proper guilty parties are rooted out. The Count falls for the comely barmaid Vanessa (played by the famous Serbian acting and singing sensation known alternately as Olivera Katarina and Olivera Vuco).

Unfortunately, the vicious local witchfinder, the Albino (the brilliant Reggie Nalder whose grotesque appearance was a result of massive burns to his face), has designs upon her (as he does with most women in the town) and when she refuses to put out, she's accused of witchcraft (as are most of the gals who don't put out). A family of innocent travelling puppeteers are also singled out as witches, especially the gorgeous blonde daughter (Gaby Fuchs, German star of numerous horror and sex films).

A whole whack of sickening tortures and executions are carried out until the handsome Count realizes the insidiously corrupt nature of the whole affair and leads a revolt against the witchfinders.

Due to considerable friction twixt director Michael Armstrong and producer Adrian Hoven (who also acts in the film), a considerable portion of the movie includes added sequences directed by the latter. In spite of this, the film has a relatively smooth mise-en-scene and ultimately works as a genuinely fine addition to this sub-genre of 70s exploitation. The performances, especially by Kier, Lom and Nalder are top of the line and the movie, even in its longer unexpurgated form, moves along at a speedy clip.

Though ultimately an exploitation film meant to capitalize on the success of the aforementioned Witchfinder General, Mark of the Devil holds its own very nicely and due to its superb locations and attention to certain historical details, it feels as disgustingly representative of this horrendous period of history as one could/would want.

Have I mentioned yet that the movie opens with nuns being raped? I thought not.

Look, there's just no getting around how foul this picture is, but aficionados of vile Euro-Trash will find themselves in a constant state of orgasm.

One cannot deny such pleasures to anyone.

Can one?

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***½ (film) & ***** (Blu-Ray/DVD)

Mark of the Devil is available on a sumptuous Arrow Video Blu-Ray. In addition to the restoration of the full version and superb transfer from existing elements, the added treat are the bountiful extras. Arrow continues to be the gold standard for genre films in the home entertainment market and this particular package is on par with any fully loaded Criterion Collection release. Extras include a wonderful commentary track with Michael Armstrong, expertly moderated by Calum Waddell. Exclusive to this package is Mark of the Times a one-hour documentary on the British new wave of genre directors during the 60s and 70s. Hallmark of the Devil is an amazing little 12-minute doc about Hallmark Releasing (of Hallmark greeting cards fame) and their vile brilliant marketing campaign which ensured a huge return when the film played theatrically in the USA. There are a whack of great interviews with composer Michael Holm, actors Udo Kier, Herbert Fux, Gaby Fuchs, Ingeborg Schöner and even an audio only chat with Herbert Lom. A very entertaining short entitled Mark of the Devil: Now and Then takes us on a then-and-now tour of the film's locations. Additionally, one will find the usual bevy of outtakes, picture galleries, trailers and Arrow's impeccably high standards in package design and supplements with reversible sleeve and a lovely booklet featuring wonderful articles including David Del Valle's interview with the immortal Reggie Nalder.

This one is a keeper, folks




Friday, 3 January 2014

THE POSSESSION OF JOEL DELANY - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Flawed 70s shocker offers far more effective chills and thrills than the new Hispanic-tinged "Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones" - thanks to Santeria!

After I slice and dice these kids,
I'll go on to star in MANDINGO.
The Possession of Joel Delaney (1972) **1/2
dir. Waris Hussein
Starring: Shirley MacLaine, Perry King, Edmundo Rivera Alvarez
Review By Greg Klymkiw

Santeria is some scary shit and has largely been ignored by horror films. This might have something to do with the fact that it’s a religion and therefore politically incorrect to drag it into the realm of such a “lowly” genre. That said, political correctness has never reared its ugly head when Catholicism or other religions are delightfully exploited for similar purposes, so one can only gather that either Liberal-minded creators are happy to exploit the dominant European religions, but unable to bring themselves to do so for the saintly Third World blend of Jesus-worship and voodoo or it might be that they just haven’t had their thinking caps skewed in the direction of Santeria. That said, this 70s thriller goes whole hog on the Santeria front and includes one freaky exorcism sequence that blends very cool Latin musical stylings with all the shrieking, convulsing and chanting you can handle.

The Possession of Joel Delaney is seriously flawed, but still manages to effectively raise the hackles on a number of fronts – not the least of which is its creepy, deliberate pace as we’re treated to the tale of a wealthy, fur-laden New York housewife (Shirley MacLaine) who slowly comes to realize that her messed-up lay-about brother (our title character – marvelously played by Perry King in his first feature film role) is possessed by the spirit of a now-dead serial killer who delights in severing the heads of his female (‘natch) victims with one Mother of a switchblade.

It’s a movie rife with all sorts of interesting shadings – undertones of incest, the wide gap between rich and poor, the dichotomous cultures of WASPS and Puerto Ricans and, most fascinating of all, the backdrop of Santeria. Unfortunately, the movie is marred by some really clunky direction and a clutch of dreadful performances.

Director Waris Hussein seemed an unlikely choice for this film adaptation of Ramona Stewart’s very cool novel which kept this feller up for several late nights as a kid – clutching a flashlight under the blankets to keep reading, but to also ward off fear of the dark. Hussein’s previous directorial attempts included the extremely entertaining counter-culture kiddie sleeper hit Melody (replete with a classic BeeGees score and that double-infusion of Oliver star wattage Mark Lester and Jack Wild) and the whimsical, delightful Gene Wilder comedy Quackser Fortune Has A Cousin In The Bronx. He clearly seems out of his element with this material and it’s certainly one of the oddest studio pictures I’ve seen from this period since it equally balances some really effective sequences with moments that raise Ed Wood to the heights of Bergman.

He ain't Warren Beatty
He's My Brother
Even Shirley MacLaine (the reincarnation-believing estranged sister of Warren Beatty) seems weirdly unsuited to the requirements of the picture. She handles the rich-bitchiness of the role with considerable assuredness, but many of her other emotions feel forced and even annoyingly shrill. The latter performance flaw is especially odd when she’s called upon to be vaguely caring and/or maternal. It’s so insanely uneven that one can only think she felt she was slumming and wrong-headedly thought she needed to mix things up to keep it interesting for her. MacLaine isn’t, however, the only one rendering a bad performance. Many of the American and British actors in the film feel like foreigners dubbed into English, though are clearly WASP-ish thesps recorded mostly with synch sound. Only Perry King is dubbed with regularity, but at least that makes sense for the character since his voice is only replaced when he's speaking Spanish in the serial killer’s demon spirit. In fact, King delivers solid work and it’s clear why he went on to become a popular leading man in the 70s.

Aside from King, the only performances of note come from the Puerto Rican actors Hussein cast in supporting roles. One of the most memorable and stirring appearances in the picture comes from Edmundo Rivera Álvarez as the Santerian exorcist Don Pedro. He’s only on-screen in two scenes, but he is so riveting – blending compassion with religious fervor – that one almost wished he had more scenes. In fact, it might have been far more interesting to expand his role to the size of that of Max Von Sydow’s in The Exorcist (that little 70s possession picture that has definitely outshone this one). Interestingly, Álvarez was a prominent actor, director and playwright in Puerto Rico who, in spite of his prolific work in his home country never found a place in mainstream Hollywood cinema and died in relative poverty and obscurity.

For all its problems, though, The Possession of Joel Delaney is still a picture worth seeing – especially for fans of the horror genre. It has enough creepy moments to keep one glued to the screen. It’s also yet another bold DVD release from Legend Films – taking an obscure picture from the Paramount catalogue and getting it out in the world for all to see. And for a glimpse at a small, but dynamic performance by Edmundo Rivera Álvarez and the Santeria action, it’s worth catching up with.

Thursday, 2 January 2014

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY: THE MARKED ONES - Review By Greg Klymkiw - The Dreaded Hispanic Fifth Wheel

More of the same found footage activities of the paranormal kind come our way in this fifth instalment of the ghostly horror series about witchcraft and demonic possession captured by people who seem to do nothing else but shoot every second of their lives through home video cameras.

Come join me at
Satan's Tupperware Party!
Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones (2014) *
Dir. Christopher Landon
Starring: Andrew Jacobs, Jorge Diaz, Gabrielle Walsh

Review By Greg Klymkiw

After seeing the first Paranormal Activity, I hoped there'd never be a sequel. I knew this was wishful thinking, but when I see a picture that feels perfect, I don't want its existence besmirched by an endless barrage of substandard instalments that deliver more of the same, but go out of their way to generate useless backstory and fleshing-out. After seeing the first film, I felt delectably walloped, but was also left with enough questions about what had occurred that they enriched the experience by lending an air of mystery to the proceedings. I didn't want to know that Katie was the target of an ages-old conspiracy of witches carrying out demonic possession, nor did I want to know the reasons why. What happened in the first film was enough.

Even still, I'd gird my loins appropriately and then faithfully see each and every new instalment. Parts II and III of the followups, though bereft of the power of the first, were surprisingly fun, creepy and offering enough jolts to satisfy me on visceral levels. Part IV, though, seemed like the beginning of the end and the latest instalment comes close to tarring and feathering Oren Peli's original offering.

I might be possessed, but I still
brush my teeth twixt hauntings.
The Marked Ones is set against the backdrop of California's Hispanic community. Given how scary Santeria is - at least for this fella - I thought that maybe we'd go into somewhat different territory. Alas, this is something that's never exploited for what it could have been worth.

What it barfs up instead is a Hispanic kid with a video camera discovering weird stuff in an apartment below his own family's abode.

A well-known witch in the community boasts a series of odd comings and goings including a pal from school. The pal is always distant and in a hurry. Lucky, for all concerned, we're treated to a ritual involving the naked old witch and a gorgeous young lovely displaying full frontal nudity. However, what follows is pure tedium until the last 20-or-so minutes when the filmmakers deliver a close-but-no-cigar fright-fest.

This, of course, is hardly enough to save the picture.

A clutch of Hispanic kids break into the apartment after it's been sealed with police tape after a grisly murder and then, more of the same - weird noises, odd images and the ever-mounting dread that a kick-ass climax will ensue. The movie briefly skirts with Hispanic gang involvement, but this is never properly fleshed out. Like all the sequels, we never get a sense of the characters and hence, don't really care what's going to happen.

This is all more retreading on a well worn series and the only new element is that the filmmakers have ensured a whole new marketplace amongst Hispanic audiences. Replete with vaguely ethnocentric trappings, one expects appearances from either Topo Gigio and/or The Frito Bandito.

How the mighty continue to fall - this time to the strains of La Cucaracha.

"Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones" is in wide theatrical release worldwide via Paramount.

Sunday, 7 July 2013

THE CONJURING - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Audiences and critics desperate for non-formula summer fare settle for the dull formula of haunted house horror distinguished only by a fine cast working valiantly with middle of the road material that feels, on the surface, more original than the usual fare, but isn't.


The Conjuring (2013) **
Dir: James Wan
Starring: Vera Farmiga, Lili Taylor, Patrick Wilson, Ron Livingston

Review By Greg Klymkiw

A working class family moves into a dream home in the country. Once they've loaded all their worldly goods into the spacious, but decidedly creaky old manor, Dad (Patrick Wilson) notices that their uncharacteristically-whimpering dog refuses to enter.

Gee, what could this mean? Might there be a problem?

"Ya think?" we answer with another question, in the parlance and manner of Miley Cyrus as Hannah Montana.

Well, once all the bumps in the night start making themselves known, once a mysterious room in the cellar is found crammed with all manner of odd, creepy items (which in and of itself screams, "Get the fuck out of here!"), once Mom (Lili Taylor) keeps finding huge, painful bruises all over her body, once the kiddies are being grasped and pulled out of their beds by an unseen force, once Mom is home alone with a servant of Satan clumping about on its cloven hooves whilst hubby hits the road (he's a truck drivin' man, good buddy), it's pretty clear as crystal that there indeed might be some sort of a problem. Enter a couple of ghost hunters (Vera Farmiga, Patrick Wilson) and before you know it, all hell breaks loose - literally - because the malevolent presence is not ghostly at all - but, wait for it, kiddies... you betcha! You got it! You win the Kewpie Doll! It's demonic - a presence as mighty as Satan himself.

Oh, and it's a true story.

Luckily, for us, The Conjuring presents another presence within its competently dull framework - one that's neither ghostly nor demonic, but is in fact that nice Ukrainian girl from New Jersey who's garnered a fair number of nominations and awards for some good films, but has, more often than not, appeared in a huge swath of mediocre and downright dreadful pictures. As per usual, though, she's riveting in everything and her performance here is just as terrific as one expects her work to be. This lady is never just cashing a paycheque.

In fact, I always hope with every movie she appears in, that Vera Farmiga, a beautiful, expressive and intense actress if there ever was one, will have finally nabbed a role to propel her to the kind of stardom earned by Meryl Streep at a similar stage in her career. In fact, Farmiga strikes me as having all the potential in the world to be the Streep of her generation. Alas, aside from always being so much better than the vast majority of films she's actually in, Farmiga still hasn't been blessed with a role in a movie equivalent to the likes of early Streep roles in The Deer Hunter or Kramer Vs. Kramer and as she's grown by leaps and bounds with every year, there's been a dearth of decent movies to match her formidable talent. The few good films she's been in (The Departed, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas), Farmiga takes a back seat to the male pyrotechnics (in the former) and, uh, the Holocaust and those cute little boys (in the latter). Her one genuinely great picture, Down to the Bone, was a few years ago now and relegated to indie status. Even her acclaimed and much-deserved Oscar-nominated performance in Jason Reitman's competently and almost agonizingly glib Up in the Air soars well above his picture which she elevated with her presence.

That The Conjuring is a big hit, fat with inexplicably ecstatic critical notices, might signal to the uninitiated that this is, indeed, IT. Well, her performance is unquestionably great, but once again, Farmiga is doing stellar work in an artistically cellar-dwelling picture. What might be the most positive outcome of this picture is that she'll now get a flurry of fine Streep-worthy roles in a passel o' decent pictures and possibly even gain more credibility for her burgeoning directing career.

As Lorraine Warren, the better half of the famous, real-life married couple who presided over a vast assortment of hauntings and demonic possessions, including the notorious Amityville Horror case, Farmiga stabs deeply into the role of the spiritual medium with a quietly nerve-jangled fervour. Like many great actors, she slices through flesh, fat, muscle and sinew, then hacks into the bone to reach the marrow. Here, though, it feels like Farmiga is doing more work than the connect-the-dots screenplay by twin brothers Chad and Cory Haynes who are responsible for writing some of the worst contemporary horror and suspense films including Whiteout, The Reaping and the utter dreck that is the House of Wax remake.

In fairness, while the screenplay for The Conjuring leaves a whole lot to be desired, it's practically a masterpiece compared to their previous efforts. For me, the most offensive story element is that the root of evil in the film is a demonic curse placed upon the land the home rests upon (and the surrounding areas) by a witch who murdered her children and committed suicide - resulting in a couple of centuries worth of hauntings, possessions and mysterious, often violent deaths. Look, I love horror movies - including several classics involving witches, but this is the 21st Century, folks, and we all acknowledge that women were abused, tortured and murdered by Christian zealots and the male patriarchy they represented to keep them in their place. The misogynistic aspects of the "evil" permeating the film is simply appalling.

I can deal with demons or Satan - though I'm usually more fond of ghosts - but using the female-hating trope of witchcraft as the origin of Satan's work is so boneheaded and frankly, given the film's popularity - especially, I suspect, amongst right-wing, God-Squad organized religion nuts - is tantamount to being little more than an insidious form of propaganda. This might not have been the intent of the screenwriting twins and director James Wan, but ignorance is frankly NEVER an acceptable defence. I'm all for bringing God and faith BACK into the equation of fighting evil in horror films, but the movie feels vaguely like Christian propaganda without the obsessive artistry of, for example, Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. Wan (Saw, Insidious) has never been an exciting director and frankly, to pull off demonic possession so that it REALLY knocks the wind out of you requires directors with some panache (Friedkin, Raimi, et al).

Wan's direction is certainly competent and he gets a few nods for attempting to create suspense via atmospheric horror rather than the usual pyrotechnics, but the screenplay is so boringly unoriginal that all we're finally left with IS Farmiga's richly layered performance. It's impossible to take one's eyes off her to such an extent that when she's not onscreen, the movie suffers immeasurably. Not that the other performances are bad, mind you - far from it - but the underlying material is so grocery-list-like that anyone surrounding the 110% served up by Farmiga is virtually blown away by her considerable gifts. Watson, Taylor and Livingston (as well as the rest of the cast) all acquit themselves admirably, but it's Farmiga who elevates her role and the material to stratospheric heights.

"The Conjuring" premiered at the FanTasia 2013 Film Festival in Montreal and opened to worldwide release via Warner Bros.