Movies

Horror

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Halloween has past* but since horror is one of my favorite genres, I figured I’d list out some good examples of horror books & movies because it’s always fun to scare yourself witless. When it comes to film, horror is one of the more difficult genres to execute effectively and, as such, the genuinely great horror films are few and far between. What’s left are a series of downright creepy, but flawed, films. Because of their flaws, many horror films are often overlooked and underrated and these are the films I’d like to mention here. Books, on the other hand, tend to be overlooked and underrated as a medium. Horror books doubly so.

Film

I’ve never been a fan of the classic 1950’s horror films like the Mummy, Dracula, or Frankenstein… They’re not without their charm, but when it comes to the classics, I prefer their source materiel to the films. For classics, I would mention Halloween (1978, it started the lackluster “slasher” sub-genre, but it is an excellent film, particularly it’s soundtrack), Jaws (1975, another excellent soundtrack here, but there was plenty else that made people afraid to go back into the water again…), Psycho (1960, the sudden shifts and feints coupled with, again, a distinctive and effective soundtrack, make for a brutally effective film), Alien (1979, “In space, no one can hear you scream.” Director Ridley Scott really knew how to turn the screws with this one), The Exorcist (1973, The power of Christ compels you… to wet yourself in despair whilst watching this film) and The Shining (1980, Kubrick’s interpretation of King’s masterwork is significantly different, but it is also one of the few examples of an adaptation that works well in it’s own right).

But those are all films we know and love. What about the one’s we haven’t seen? Director John Carpenter built an impressive string of neglected horror films throughout the 1980s and early 1990s (a pity that he has since lost his touch). Aside from the classic Halloween, Carpenter directed the 1982 remake of The Thing, which was brilliantly updated and downright creepy. It has its fill of scary moments, not the least of which is the cryptic and ambiguous ending. He followed that with Christine. Adapted from the novel by Stephen King, Carpenter was able to make a silly story creepy with the sheer will of his technical mastery (not his best, but impressive nonetheless). His 1987 film Prince of Darkness was flawed but undeniably effective. Many have not heard of In the Mouth of Madness, but it has become one of my favorite horror films of the 1990s.

If you’re not scared away by subtitles or foreign films, check out Dario Argento‘s seminal 1977 gorefest Suspiria, which boasts opening and ending scenes amongst the best in the genre. Argento’s rival, Lucio Fulci, also has an impressive series of gory horror classics, such as the 1980 film The Gates of Hell. Both Argento and Fulci have an impressive body of work and are worth checking out if you don’t mind them being in Italian…

The 1970’s and early 1980’s were an excellent period in horror filmmaking. Excluding the films already mentioned (a significant portion of the classics are from the 1970s), you may want to check out the 1980 movie The Changeling, an excellent ghost story, or perhaps the disturbing 1981 film The Incubus. And how could I write about horror movies without mentioning my beloved 1979 cheesy creepfest Phantasm. Other 70s flicks to check out: The Hills Have Eyes (1977), Dawn of the Dead (1978), Salem’s Lot (a 1979 TV miniseries based on Stephen King’s book), The Omen (1976), Carrie (1976), Blue Sunshine (1976, almost forgotten today), The Wicker Man (1973), The Legend of Hell House (1973, a personal favorite, adapted from a novel by Richard Matheson, who we’ll get to in a moment), and of course we can’t forget that lovable flesh-wearing cannibal, Leatherface, in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974).

Ok, so I think I’ve inundated you with enough movies, hopefully many of which you’ve never heard of, for now so let’s move on to books (naturally, I could go on and on and on just listing out good horror flicks, but this is at least a good start).

Literature

My knowledge of Horror literature is less extensive than horror film, but I have a fair base to work from. We all know the classics, Dracula, Frankenstein, and the works of Edgar Allen Poe, but there are many overlooked horror stories floating around as well.

M.R. James (1862-1936) is one of the originators of the modern Ghost Story, and there are several exemplary examples of this sub-genre in his oeuvre. His works are public domain, so follow the link above for online versions… I especially enjoyed the creepy Count Magnus.

Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House is a classic that is rightly praised as one of the finest horror novels ever written.

Richard Matheson’s brilliant I Am Legend is a study of isolation and grim irony that turns the traditional vampire story on its head. This might be one of the most influential novels you’ve never heard of, as there have been many derivatives, particularly in film.

H.P. Lovecraft is another fantastic short story author whose work has been tremendously influential to modern horror. His infamous Cthulhu Mythos and Necronomicon were ingenious creations, and many have seized on them and attempted to follow in his footsteps. Indeed, many even believe his fictional Necronomicon to be real!

You might have noticed Stephen King’s name mentioned a few times already, and there is a reason so many of his books are turned into movies. I’ve never been a huge King fan, but The Shining is among the best horror novels I’ve read. I’ve always preferred Dean Koontz (sadly he has absolutely no good film adaptations), who wrote such notable horror staples as Phantoms, Midnight, and The Servants of Twilight. Both Koontz and King can be hit-or-miss, but when they’re on, there’s no one better.

Other books of note: Clive Barker’s The Hellbound Heart (which was adapted into the 1987 film Hellraiser) is an excellent short read (about 120 pages), and some of his longer works, such as The Great and Secret Show and Imajica, are also good. F. Paul Wilson’s The Keep is one of the few books that has ever truly scared me while reading it. I’ve always found William Peter Blatty’s novel, The Exorcist, to be more effective than the movie (and that is saying a lot!). Brian Lumly’s Necroscope series is an interesting take on the vampire legend, and his Titus Crow series builds on Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos nicely.

Well, there you have it. That should keep you busy for the next few years…

* One would think that this post should have been made last week, and one would be right, but then one would also not be too familiar with how we do things here at Kaedrin. Note that the best movies of 2001 is due sometime around mid-2004. Heh. This whole being timely with content thing is something I have always had difficulty with and need to work on, but that is another topic for another post…

Style as Substance

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Kill Bill: Volume 1 is one of those movies that I’ve been keeping track of for years. From the beginning, I wondered why Tarantino was choosing such material for his next film. The plot certainly isn’t edgy. Uma Thurman plays The Bride, a woman miraculously survives a bullet to the head on her wedding day (the groom was not so lucky). After an extended stay in a coma, she awakes and makes a list of five people to exact revenge upon. Then she goes and kills them. That’s the plot.

And yet it’s still a good film (not a great film, but good). The plot doesn’t matter. Nor, really, do the characters. None of them are developed, or really likable. You root for the Bride, a textbook anti-hero, not because she’s been wronged and is seeking revenge, but because she’s such a badass. It is the style of the film that gets me, and like it or not, Tarantino is a master of style. The man knows how to manipulate the audience, and he is brutally unmerciful in this outing.

Let me rewind a bit. Do you remember the scene in Pulp Fiction where Vincent blows Marvin’s head off by accident? Somehow, Tarantino is able to make that scene, and the ensuing events, funny. Not ha-ha funny, it’s still black comedy, but funny nonetheless. You don’t really know why you are laughing, but you are. And that is what this movie is like. It’s like two hours of that one scene in Pulp Fiction.

Blood. Hundreds of gallons of it. Spraying, shooting, fountains of blood. The grisly murder rate in this film approaches triple digits. It’s not for everyone. James Lileks says he had “no desire to see clever violence,” and that is certainly understandable. These scenes are cold, merciless, and often disgusting, yet I found myself laughing. It’s just a natural reaction when you see someone’s head cut off and blood sprays out like a sprinkler. The gore is so over the top that it eventually ceases to be disgusting and takes on a blurry, surreal quality. Tarantino knows this works, but he’s not content to leave it there.

This isn’t an easy movie. It’s not the roller coaster kung-fu action flick it’s advertised as. It’s difficult. Why? Because in those moments where the gore goes beyond the surreal, you still sense gravity in the violence. Tarantino grounds the violence just enough so that you laugh when it happens, but you’re hit by an aftertaste of guilt a few seconds later. The blood may be completely over the top, but other details are what got me. The gurgling, the spasms, the screams. These things creeped the hell out of me. And on top of that, towards the end of the film, Tarantino keeps the film rocketing along at such a pace that your conscience can’t keep up with the violence, and you know it. That is, I suppose the essense of black comedy. It’s not easy and it’s not fun, but it makes you laugh anyway.

It is difficult to say, though. It’s not as obvious as I’m describing. The black comedy is more subtle than you might think from reading this, so take it with a grain of salt.

Walter sums it up perfectly:

I think Tarantino wanted a 180 from Pulp Fiction’s tone. I think he feinted high and then socked us in the gut. And it worked. Bold as hell, and he pulled it off. Now I’m sick to my stomach, but I respect the bastard.

I don’t like this movie the way I like Tarantino’s other work. I like it like I like Taxi Driver or Requiem for a Dream, which is to say, I don’t like it, but it is so well done that I can’t stop myself from watching it. The filmmakers, damn them, are so good at manipulating the elements of cinema that I’m spellbound even as I’m wimpering.

Kill Bill doesn’t have the weight of Taxi Driver or Requiem and it’s a flawed film, but it has it’s moments of brilliance too. There is a lot more to say about it, but I am at a loss to say more. It is difficult to describe because what’s important about this film isn’t what happens, it’s how it happens. It’s style as substance, and Tarantino makes it work. Damn him.

Elly Kedward, Evan Chan, Publius, and Elvis: Media Marketing in the Internet Age

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There are few who have truly taken advantage of the internet as a marketing medium. Indeed, it’s quite possible that such endeavors would not bear fruit (and as we shall see, even a compelling campaign doesn’t indicate success), but previous attempts at such advertising have proven very involving.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about a new independent movie called Bubba Ho-Tep. Apparently, this caught the attention of the Art Director of the film, who had been asked to “search out websites who might volunteer some space to put up an ad” for the new film. He sent me an email, and asked if I wouldn’t mind putting up a small ad for his film. Of course, this being an independent film, they have no money for a traditional marketing campaign, despite the obvious cult appeal and securing a theatrical distribution, so they turned to the internet. They found folks like me, who were already getting the word out about the film, and asked us to do a little more. Its an obvious step, and I was impressed that the fillmmakers have recognized the potential of the internet as a marketing medium. Naturally, I’m happy to oblige, though I have yet to decide just what form my promotions will be. Oh, sure, I’ll plaster up a few Bubba graphics and whatnot (see, there’s one down below). I’m sure that’s all they’re hoping for, and at this moment that’s the best I can do… and yet… I see potential here.

This could be so much more than just an image and link alongside gushing fanboy praise. I know what you’re thinking: Just what the hell is he talking about here?

***

I’m talking about Elly Kedward. As the story goes, this 18th century Maryland woman was found guilty of witchcraft, banished into the forest during a particularly harsh winter, and presumed dead. The following winter, however, over half that town’s children disappeared. Ever since then, whenever anything out of the ordinary happens in that area, people blame Elly Kedward. Several children have gone missing, some bodies have been found, and in 1941 an old hermit named Rustin Parr confessed to killing 7 children in the forest, telling authorities that a voice in his head (“an old woman”) commanded his actions. In October of 1994, 3 student filmmakers traveled to the area to make a documentary about the local legend. They were never heard from again, though their film equipment and supplies were discovered in the forest.

I am, of course, talking about The Blair Witch Project. The movie was made with approximately $30,000-$50,000, it had no script, it starred unknown actors and was made by unknown filmmakers. On top of that they used very little film, even resorting to videotape for a good portion of the movie. The only way they could get away with such things would be if people wanted to see their shoddy looking film, and to do this they tapped into the marketing potential of the internet. Drawing on their well thought out mythology and legends, they brought the story of the Blair Witch to you first, so that you’d be intrigued. They sold people on the concept of the film before the film was even released. Indeed, several people were even fooled by the site, believing all the information to be true. Using the relatively inexpensive internet, they created demand for the film. People ran to theaters to see the shaky, blurry exploits of 3 unknowns, and the film was a massive success. Of course, it was more complicated than that, and the web was not solely responsible for the film’s success (indeed, much of the hype around the film drove people to the website), though I do believe it had a lot of impact.

Another example is Evan Chan. In the beginning, all anyone knew was that Evan Chan had been murdered. Elaborate clues were peppered throughout Web sites for fictitious people and companies. In the Spring of 2001, thousands of people banded together on the internet to solve the mystery. This “internet game” was devised by the producers of the film A.I., and a Microsoft team continually updated game sites with plot twists and character development. Clues were buried in HTML code, audio files, and email messages. The game’s creators monitored the progress of players and used feedback to shape the game’s content. The game created a groundswell of interest among the computer geeks of the world, but it was a subtle effort. Indeed, it took a while for the game to even be noticed. The game’s relation to the movie was only tangential, and when the film was released, many found the game more absorbing than the much-anticipated movie. None of the game sites directly referred to the film, and no one knew the game had anything to do with A.I. until nearly a month after it had started. It took a while before Warner and DreamWorks even acknowledged that the game was a promotion for the film. The soft-sell had a lot to do with the game’s success. As a member at Cloudmakers.org put it: “Someone kept the commercials out of it, kept the hype down, kept us curious by not shoving

answers at us.” Again, its not entirely clear what impact the game had on the film. Though hundreds of thousands of people had stumbled upon the game, the number of active players was estimated to be around 7,000, hardly enough to make a difference at the box office. Then again, the amount of news media

coverage the game had generated probably benefited the studios. At the very least, the game is an extremely interesting experiment in internet marketing…

I’m not sure whether or not this qualifies, but there was a rather strange phenomenon surrounding Pink Floyd’s 1994 album The Division Bell. A self-described messenger named Publius began posting to the Usenet group alt.music.pink-floyd through an anonymous service. The posts were cryptic and ambiguous, and spoke of what became known as the Publius Enigma:

AS SOME OF YOU HAVE SUSPECTED, “The Division Bell” is not

like its predecessors. Although all great music is subject

to multiple interpretations, in this case there is a central

purpose and a designed solution. For the ingenious person

(or group of persons) who recognizes this – and where this

information points to – a unique prize has been secreted.

The mysterious posts continued on an irregular basis, often containing cryptic clues and puzzles, sparking immense discussion among fans as to the “true” meaning of The Division Bell. There were many who doubted the authenticity of Publius, and to this day, I don’t think the puzzle has been solved, nor has it been completely discredited. There was some discussion of a solution being offered, and accepted by Publius around 1997 – but the circumstances were strange, and you could easily take it to be an “exit strategy” for Publius, or to be a hoax unto itself. Even with the solution, no one knows what the “unique prize” is, as the winner conveniently botched his success(!?). And if it really was the solution, it was very lame, in my opinion.

In all likelyhood, the entire exercise was just the band (or at the very least, someone close to the bad) screwing around. I have no idea whether or not this has helped sales of the Division Bell; indeed, given that it was aimed at diehard fans, it probably hasn’t. But it is a good example of how to keep interest in a product for extended periods of time, as it seems to have taken on a life of its own.

***

It could be argued that all of the above examples are unsuccessful, and to be honest, I’m not sure I disagree. But at the same time, all of the above are profoundly interesting phenomena, and they exemplify the absorbing potential of the internet. It remains to be seen as to whether or not such grassroots marketing efforts can be truly successful. If the above examples are any indication, we could be in for some interesting campaigns in the future.

Will the Bubba Ho-Tep campaign grow into something that takes a life of its own? What role will I play in this campaign? Time will tell…

The King Lives!

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Cult films are (generally) commercially unsuccessful movies that have limited appeal, but nevertheless attract a fiercely loyal following among fans over time. They often exhibit very strange characters, surreal settings, bizzarre plotting, dark humor, and otherwise quirky and eccentric characteristics. These obscure films often cross genres (horror, sci-fi, fantasy, etc…) and are highly stylized, straying from conventional filmmaking techniques. Many are made by fiercely independent maverick filmmakers with a very low budget (read: cheesy), often showcasing the performance of talented newcomers.

Almost by definition, they’re not popular at the time of their release, usually because they exist outside the box, eschewing typical narrative styles and other technical conventions. They achieve cult-film status later, developing a loyal fanbase over time, often through word-of-mouth recommendations (and, as we’ll see, the actions of fans themselves). They elicit an eerie passion among their fans, who enthusiastically champion the films, leading to repeated public viewings (midnight movie showings are particularly prevalent in cult films), fan clubs, and active audience participation (i.e. dressing up as the oddball characters, mercilessly MST3King a film, or uh, jumping around in front of a camera with a broomstick). Cult movie followers often get together and argue over the mundane details and varied merits of their favorite films.

While these films are not broadly appealing, they are tremendously popular among certain narrow groups such as college students or independent film lovers. The internet has been immensely enabling in these respects, allowing movie geeks to locate one another and participate in the aforementioned laborious debates and arguments among other interactive fun.

One of the first examples of a cult movie is Tod Browning’s 1932 film, Freaks, which was deliberately made to be “the strangest…most startling human story ever screened,” and featured real-life freaks as circus performers. Perhaps the most infamous cult film is The Rocky Horror Picture Show, a 1975 film which inspired a craze of interactive, midnight movie screenings where members of the audience dress up as any of the garish and trashy characters and sing along with the music.

Sometimes a cult film will break out of its small fanbase and hit the mainstream. Frank Capra’s classic It’s a Wonderful Life didn’t become popular until many years after its initial release. Repeated television showings during the Christmas season, however, have become a holiday tradition.

Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange and Dr. Strangelove Or: How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Bomb, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, and Frances Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now are all considered to be classics of modern cinema today, yet were all largely ignored by audiences at the time of their release.

Most cult films don’t fare that well, though I can’t say that bothers anyone. Their unpopularity is generally considered to be a part of their charm. They’re strange beasts, these cult films, and their appeal is hard to pin down. They’re often very flawed films in one way or another, yet they strike a passionate chord with specific audiences, and their flaws, strangely, become endearing to their fans. Outsiders just don’t “get it”.

This doesn’t just apply to movies either. Many authors don’t become popular until after their deaths (Kafka, Lovecraft) and many works are initially shunned, but eventually pick up that devoted cult following through word of mouth and interactive fun and games. The Lord of the Rings was massively unpopular when it was published, but a small but extremely devoted fanbase grew, and it wasn’t too long until people were creating role-playing games like Dungeons & Dragons based in part on Tolkien’s enormously imaginative universe. D&D itself garnered a cult following of its own, as has role-playing in its own right. Lord of the Rings is now immensely popular, and its stunningly brilliant movie adaptations by cult filmmaker Peter Jackson (known for his disgusting work in Bad Taste, Meet the Feebles, and Dead Alive, among others) which have met with both popular and critical success.

***

One of my favorite cult films is the cheesy 1979 horror flick, Phantasm. Several years ago, as I first began to explore internet communities, I realized that I needed a “handle,” as it was called. I was watching said horror flick almost every day at the time, so I chose tallman as my handle, despite the fact that I do not resemble the nefarious Tall Man present in the Phantasm films (and that, uh, I’m not tall). It is inexplicably one of my favorite films of all time, and it is a dreadful movie. The effects are awful, the acting is often laughable, and the plot is incoherent at times (especially the ending). But I still love the film; I cherish the creepy, surreal atmosphere and to this day, the Tall Man haunts my dreams (nightmares, actually). The bad effects and acting make me laugh, but there are some genuinely brilliant moments in the film, and the unreality of the ending actually serves to heighten the tension of the film, providing an eerie ambiguity that lasts long after viewing the film. The film has its moments of brilliance as well. The score is especially haunting, and the mortuary sets, when combined with director (and producer, and writer, and cinematographer, and editor, and did I mention that cult filmmakers are often fiercely independent?) Don Coscarelli’s talented visual style, are stunningly effective.

Like many cult films, it has become a cinematically important film, sparking the rise of surreality in many horror films from the 1980’s (most notably A Nightmare on Elm Street, which lifted the ending almost verbatim).

Another favorite cult hit is Sam “For Love of the Game” Raimi’s (er, I guess that should be Sam “Spiderman” Raimi’s) Evil Dead films, featuring the coolest B-Movie actor ever, Bruce Campbell. Raimi’s inventive camera-work and Campbell’s gloriously over-the-top performance make these films a joy to watch.

The reason I started this post, which has gotten completely out of hand as I’ve laboriously digressed into the nature of cult filmmaking (sorry ’bout that), was because of a new film, destined for cult success, in which Phantasm director Don Coscarelli and Evil Dead actor Bruce Campbell join forces.

The new film is called Bubba Ho-Tep, it looks like a doozy. Based on a short story by cult author Joe R. Lansdale, tells the “true” story of what became of Elvis Presley (he didn’t die on a toilet) and JFK (he didn’t die in Dallas). Oh, did I mention that JFK is now black (THEY dyed him that color; the conspiracy theorists should love that)? We find this unlikely duo in an East Texas rest home which has become the target of an evil Egyptian entity (“Some sorta… Bubba Ho-Tep,” as Campbell’s Elvis opines). Naturally, the two old coots aren’t going to just let Bubba Ho-Tep run hog-wild through their peaceful nursing home, and so they rush forward on their walkers and their wheel chairs to save the day. Its got that mix of the absurd that just screams cult film.

The trailer is great, and it features some of those trademark Coscarelli visuals (which I never realized he had before, but he does. Its tempting to throw out the term Auteur, but I’m way too subjective when it comes to Coscarelli), music that sounds suspiciously like the Phantasm theme, and Campbell’s typically cheeky delivery (including Elvis-fu, complete with cheesy sound effects). I can’t wait to see this film. Alas, it doesn’t look like its coming to Philly very soon, but I’m hoping it will eventually make its way over here so that I can partake of it in all its B-Movie glory. The King lives!

Villainous Brits!

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A few weeks ago, the regular weather guy on the radio was sick and a British meteorologist filled in. And damned if I didn’t think it was the best weather forecast I’d ever heard! The report, which called for rain on a weekend in which I was traveling, turned out to be completely inaccurate, much to my surprise. I really shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I know full well the limitations of meteorology, and weather reports can’t be that accurate. Truth be told, I subcounsciously placed a higher value on the weather report because it was delivered in a British accent. Its not his fault, he can predict the weather no better than anyone else in the world, but the British accent carries with it an intellectual stereotype; when I hear one, I automatically associate it with intelligence.

Which brings me to John Patterson’s recent article in the Guardian in which he laments the inevitable placement of British characters and actors in the villainous roles (while all the cheeky Yanks get the heroic roles):

Meanwhile, in Hollywood and London, the movie version of the special relationship has long played itself out in like manner. Our cut-price actors come over and do their dirty work, as villains and baddies and psychopaths, even American ones, while the cream of their prohibitively expensive acting talent Concordes it over the pond to steal the lion’s share of our heroic roles. Either way, we lose.

One could be curious why Patterson is so upset that American actors get the heroic parts in American movies, but even if you ignore that, Patterson is stretching it pretty thin.

As Steven Den Beste notes, this theory doesn’t go too far in explaining James Bond or Spy Kids. Never mind that the Next Generation captain of the starship Enterprise was a Brit (playing a Frenchman, no less). Ian McKellen plays Gandalf; Ewan McGregor plays Obi Wan Kenobi. The list goes on and on.

All that aside, however, it is true that British actors and characters often do portray the villain. It may even be as lopsided as Patterson contends, but the notion that such a thing implies some sort of deeply-rooted American contempt for the British is a bit off.

As anyone familiar with film will tell you, the villain needs to be so much more than just vile, wicked or depraved to be convincing. A villainous dolt won’t create any tension with the audience, you need someone with brains or nobility. Ever notice how educated villains are? Indeed, there seem to a preponderance of doctors that become supervillains (Dr. Demento, Dr. Octopus, Dr. Doom, Dr. Evil, Dr. Frankenstien, Dr. No, Dr. Sardonicus, Dr. Strangelove, etc…) – does this reflect an antipathy towards doctors? The abundance of British villains is no more odd than the abundance of doctors. As my little episode with the weatherman shows, when Americans hear a British accent, they hear intelligence. (This also explains the Gladiator case in which Joaquin Phoenix, who is Puerto Rican by the way, puts on a veiled British accent.)

The very best villains are the ones that are honorable, the ones with whom the audience can sympathize. Once again, the American assumption of British honor lends a certain depth and complexity to a character that is difficult to pull off otherwise. Who was the more engaging villain in X-Men, Magneto or Sabretooth? Obviously, the answer is Magneto, played superbly by British actor Ian McKellen. Having endured Nazi death camps as a child, he’s not bent on domination of the world, he’s attempting to avoid living through a second holocaust. He’s not a megalomaniac, and his motivation strikes a chord with the audience. Sabretooth, on the other hand, is a hulking but pea-brained menace who contributes little to the conflict (much to the dismay of fans of the comic, in which Sabertooth is apparently quite shrewd).

Such characters are challenging. It’s difficult to portray a villain as both evil and brilliant, sleazy and funny, moving and tragic. In fact, it is because of the complexity of this duality that villains are often the most interesting characters. That British actors are often chosen to do so is a testament to their capability and talent.

Some would attribute this to the training of the stage that is much less common in the U.S. British actors can do a daring and audacious performance while still fitting into an ensemble. It’s also worth noting that many British actors are relatively unknown outside of the UK. Since they are capable of performing such a difficult role, and since they are unfamiliar to US audiences, it makes the films more interesting.

In the end, there’s really very little that Patterson has to complain about, especially when he tries to port this issue over to politics. While a case may be made that there are a lot of British villains in movies (and there are plenty of villains that aren’t), that doesn’t mean there is anything malicious behind it; indeed, depending on how you look at it, it could be considered a complement that British culture lends itself to the complexity and intelligence required for a good villain we all love to hate (and hate to love). [thanks to USS Clueless for the Guardian article]

Understanding Vs. Enjoyment

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Does greater understanding mean getting less joy out of things? Steven Den Beste wonders how many literature professors are blind to the simple joys of reading, and Matt Howell contends that greater understanding leads to greater appreciation.

Den Beste points to Mark Twain, who laments that he lost something when he gained a mastery of steamboat piloting (and thus a great understanding of the “language of water”):

… the romance and the beauty were all gone from the river. All the value any feature of it had for me now was the amount of usefulness it could furnish toward compassing the safe piloting of a steamboat.

Howell disagrees, and points to his studies of theater. To him, a “critical analytical mindset does nothing to sap the joy from the experience of watching a play.”

In part, they are both right, because the examples are very different. Twain learned a trade, and in so doing, he lost something. He saw the river in terms of piloting a steamboat. Howell, on the other hand, learned more about theater so that he could gain a greater appreciation of theater. Twain didn’t learn the language of water to gain a greater appreciation of nature, but, rather, to avoid crashing his steamboat. Obviously their education in their corresponding subject affected them in different ways, and rightly so.

However, while I admit that I agree with Howell that a greater understanding of a subject can lead to a greater appreciation of that subject, I’ve noticed that it is very easy to over-analyze. I’m not familiar with theater, so I’ll need to fall back on film. When taking in a good horror flick, for instance, a critical analysis of the mise en scène can completely ruin the film. When I look at the screen, and I see a skewed camera angle, cool colors giving way to hot colors, and I hear the music shift, I think to myself the director is manipulating the elements of the film to imply dread; something’s going to happen. Its the difference between being told to feel horror and actually feeling horror. To someone who is passively viewing the film, the feeling of apprehension is palpable precisely because they don’t know what the filmmaker is doing to them. If they did, they’d feel manipulated and cheated, and that’s not why you go to see a horror film.

The best films, the ones that affect us the most, are the ones which transport and immerse you in another world, another time… but if you’re busy nitpicking about the lighting or the editing, then you’re still sitting in the theater, and you’re certainly not enjoying the film.

Of course, this isn’t true all of the time. Sometimes a filmmaker will actually want you to think about why a shot was from that angle or why one color or another dominates the screen at various times (and sometimes bad films will do this unintentionally, giving you that feeling of manipulation I discussed earlier). There’s no way to objectively quantify how you should watch a film, but every way has its advantages or disadvantages. Analysis of a film while you’re watching it can be rewarding and fun, but its possible to overdo it, as I think I’ve shown. Its sometimes nice to let the filmmaker’s vision sweep over you and save the analysis for later.

Its similar to the notion that you have to sometimes have to suspend your disbelief while watching a movie. When a film has too many unrealistic elements, you can no longer relate, and you’re no longer immersed in the film’s world. But the occasional fudging of reality is acceptable, as long as it doesn’t remove you from the film’s grip for too long. Sure, its fun to MST3K a movie, but proclaiming He just shot 8 bullets out of a revolver without reloading and other similar complaints is an awful way to watch a movie, just as an over-analysis of a film can significantly blunt the impact of that film. Then again, I guess this is where the difference between film and theater come in. I can watch and rewatch the same exact film, taking care the second time around to figure out why I felt a certain way during a scene, thus enhancing my enjoyment of the film…

Update 6.23.03 – Porphyrogenitus has two posts discussing how the game of Quidditch ruined the first Harry Potter film for him. He refers to the film as losing his goodwill with a few annoying details (such as the way Quidditch was handled), which is a great way of putting one of the things I was trying to get at above…

Convincing Bullshit

Movies / /

They Are Alive (JFK to Z) by metaphilm : Conspiracy theories are strange beasts. Generally devised by a paranoid person or group, almost all of them beg the question. One favorite conspiracy theory contends that the CIA (along with a group of anti-Castro Cuban exiles and the military-industrial complex) killed JFK to allow the rise of Lyndon Johnson and the U.S. involvement in Vietnam (obviously there are many variations of this particular theory). This theory was captured adroidtly by Oliver Stone’s film JFK.

In many ways, JFK aptly represents the essence of most of the substantial conspiracy texts. They combine an uncritical analysis of their own findings – that, for example, the CIA would use Oswald as an agent, and a highly important one for that matter – with an absolute skepticism of the Warren Commission’s evidence and conclusions.

Stone is a great filmmaker. JFK, at first glance, makes an alarmingly good case against the traditional story as forwarded by the Warren Commission, but when one is familiar with the language of cinema, its hardly convincing. Stone’s use of cinematic language gives JFK the feel of a documentary, with its black and white footage and its reliance on natural lighting, among other staples of documentary filmmaking. Take away these techniques, and the theory is exposed for what it really is: a “counter-myth” to the prevailing orthodoxy (as Stone himself once commented). Norman Mailer referred to it as “more convincing bullshit than the Warren Report’s bullshit.” But its still bullshit, you see?

Does this mean JFK is a bad movie? As much as I disagree with Stone’s convincing bullshit, I must admit, he does a masterful job presenting it. On a strictly technical level, I enjoy it. It is a suspenseful and tautly constructed thriller, but by using what is essentially a fictional story and presenting it as historical fact, Stone ultimately shoots himself in the foot. He wants to get his point across so badly that he relies on convincing bullshit instead of pure facts.

One senses that Stone deliberately pushes his fictive interpretation over the facts. Why? The fictional account is better and more convincing propaganda against a government Stone strongly mistrusts and Americans have trusted too much.

And this is where I begin to disagree with the author. Yes, the fictional account is better and more convincing, but it’s still propaganda. With JFK, Stone is asking the audience to believe his story over the government’s, but upon closer examination his story falls apart. If you want to show how untrustowrthy the American government is, why choose a conspiracy theory that is pretty much known to be false as the vehicle for your argument? Could it be that Stone is simply demonstrating how someone can make a convincing case based on fictional suppositions, thus deminishing the value of other explainations based on the same evidence (after all, his admission that the film is a “counter-myth” seems to imply that this may be the case)? Its a fine line Stone is straddling, and its easy to come down on eather side of the issue. Ultimately, no one knows what really happened on that fateful day, and I don’t think Stone added anything significant to that, other than underscoring our lack of understanding. But damn, its fun to watch, isn’t it?

Messing with Memory

Movies / /

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind by Charlie Kaufman : The latest script from the surreal screenwriter who brought you Being John Malkovitch, Adaptation, and Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. Its about a couple who break up and attempt to erase their memories of each other, but one of them changes his mind halfway through the process… There’s a lot of potential in these types of stories. Memory is a fertile subject, and Kaufman could blow my mind away with this thing (if his past writing is any indication, I think he’ll be successful). I’ve only read about 1/3 of the script, so I can’t say for sure, but it seems like he’s on the right track (I thought it had a bit of a slow start, and the female lead is a bit annoying, but it gets better; I don’t want to ruin it, though, so I’m not going to finish it). Sort of reminiscent of Memento; moving backwards at intervals, with various flashbacks or flashforwards; all sorts of non-linear memories and confusion, but somehow still coherant (as I said, I didn’t finish, so I can’t say for sure). Apparently it’s a hot script, with Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet attached to act. Keep your eye on this one, its bound to be an interesting one.

Die Another Day

Movies / /

For the latest installment of the James Bond series of films, Pierce Brosnan’s people are apparently so swamped with interview requests that they actually allowed an interview with The Facer. I never heard of The Facer before, but… let’s just say the interview was somewhat less traditional than Mr. Brosnan is used to. An excerpt:

FACER: Vin Diesel is what I call a “bondawannabee.” At least based on his movie XXX. Did you see it?

BROSNAN: I just did, yes. Very exciting. Not Bond, though.

FACER: I know. The guy’s as suave as a rectal exam. But he is hunky. Would you date him?

BROSNAN: Who?

FACER: Vin Diesel. I mean, if you were a woman. Women love men who are named after fossil fuel products. Indicates a certain dynamic flammability, I think.

BROSNAN: (silence)

FACER: This is pretty agonizing for you, isn’t it?

BROSNAN: Well, it’s not the worst interview I’ve had.

Like I said, its not quite traditional. The discussion of innuendo in Bond girls’ names is absolutely hilarious (I’ll give you a taste: “Daisy Throatwash”). Also, Brosnan is apparently a pretty damn good sport.

Torpedo in the Water!

Movies / /

The First Annual Torpedo Awards over at filmfodder is an interesting read. The award “honors” a film performance by an actor or actress that is so bad it keeps a good movie from being a great movie, hence “torpedoing” it. They’ve done a decent job of it, picking out most of the obvious ones (such as Sofia Coppola in “The Godfather III”, The entire leading cast of “Bram Stoker’s Dracula”, Denise Richards in “The World is Not Enough”, or my personal favourite Jeremy London in “Mallrats” – that guy couldn’t deliver Smith’s brilliant dialogue for shit) and making a few controversial but debateable choices (such as Jack Nicholson in “The Shining”, Quentin Tarantino in “Pulp Fiction”, or, perhaps not so controversial, Mark Hamill in “Star Wars”). The only glaring ommission I can see (and I’m notoriously bad at picking stuff like this) is Edward Furlong in “Terminator 2”. That whole crackly-voiced whiny-ass punk kid routine got real annoying real fast. Of course, there were other problems with T2, and you’re supposed to look only at the performance not the role, but I think that movie could have been a lot better had it not been for little Eddy’s performance… I’m sure there are lots of others – anyone want to give it a shot?