Cupid for Christmas (2021)

Director: Blayne Weaver
Writer(s): Patricia Harrington
Starring: Melanie Stone, Ryan Carnes, Natasha Behnam and Richard Kind

Every holiday season, amongst the sea of mindless, soul-crushing drivel, there is a movie that stands head and shoulders amongst its peers. A movie that somehow actually manages to create a sense of wonder about the holidays. This year, it’s Cupid for Christmas. (Okay, so technically it was made last year; I meant in terms of our holiday viewing seasons.)

Even the plot is a little weird: Ruby (real name: Cherub Valentine) is Cupid’s apprentice. The problem is, she’s pretty terrible at her job, as evidenced by the opening scene: In an attempt to make two people fall in love, she inadvertently hits the wrong person with her arrow, leading to a barroom brawl.

Cupid, played by the affable Richard Kind, is understandably appalled. He wants to retire, and sees Ruby as his replacement, but fears she’s too kindhearted for the role. So he gives her one final chance: If she can make “unmatchable” college professor Charlie fall in love by Christmas Eve, she gets the job. If not, chances are that job goes to Philomena, a much more adept assistant who wants the position just as much as her colleague.

Cupid for Christmas is full of refreshing revelations. Chief among them? Ruby never hides her powers, or ulterior motives. This is something that hinders not just Christmas movies, but movies across multiple genres. How annoying is it when characters keep their magic a secret, even from the people closest to them? Ruby is upfront with Charlie from the beginning, even going so far as to reveal the lingering promotion that’s the sole reason for her interest. Hell, she even disappears in front of bewildered strangers.

But that’s not all: She enlists the help of the students in one of Charlie’s classes to help her find a match for the lovably awkward professor. They are mocking, but well-intentioned: They know there’s potential hidden somewhere underneath the awkward and clumsy. It’s just a matter of bringing it out, something no one has been able to do. Once again, she’s up front about her intentions, and doesn’t even hide her magical abilities from them.

The strength (or weakness, as the case may be) of this type of movie is in the characters, but that’s only one area where Cupid for Christmas shines. The two leads are attractive and have some believable chemistry together, which plays a big role. But they’re also surrounded by characters who are more fleshed-out than the average holiday rom-com supporting cast. Take, for example, Ruby’s relationship with Philomena. While it could have become a heated competition given their want to replace Cupid, it never becomes mean-spirited or even competitive. Sure, Philomena attempts to sabotage Ruby’s efforts once or twice, but it’s lighthearted, playful, and clearly played for laughs, with no trace of malice.

The students are also given their own unique personalities. They’re pretty much all the standard stereotypes - the stoner, the crazy girl, the gay guy, etc. - . On more than one occasion, the interplay between Ruby and the students reminded of “A.P. Bio”, the underrated sitcom starring Glenn Howerton (of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” fame). They’re real, to the point, and give off the same silly vibe. But at the end of the day, all they want is to see their professor happy.

Obviously, it is a Christmas movie at heart: It still has its fair share of predictable scenes. But I have to confess it kept me guessing on more than a couple occasions; I wasn’t even entirely sure how the ending would play out, until the final ten or so minutes. Others - like my wife, who didn’t buy my myriad theories on possible “shock” endings - might not have such a hard time. But the way the movie consistently shuns familiar tropes had me opening my mind to dozens of out-of-the-box possibilities.

It might not explore any of them, but that doesn’t change the fact that Cupid for Christmas is an unexpected delight. It’s a unique (well, as “unique” as these formulaic affairs can be) holiday rom-com that derives glee from stomping on many of the expected tropes of the genre. And, in doing so, avoids many of the pratfalls of its peers. Yet it’s also intelligent enough to know when to stick to the formula, delivering an ending that will appeal to holiday purists.

It might not remind you how special the holidays are, but it will remind you that there are decent holiday movies out there, after all.

ENTERTAINMENT RATING: 9/10

TRAILER

The Rake: Remastered (Roblox)

The average person probably would never even contemplate Roblox being a burgeoning hub for horror. I certainly never did. In fact, I was (and still would be) entirely reluctant to have even tried it if it weren’t for my five-year-old son. I was always under the impression that everything on the platform was geared towards children. How foolish I was. There are all sorts of envelope-pushing games on the platform, clearly geared toward adults. And that includes hundreds, if not thousands, of horror games.

As with every category within Roblox, the quality of the “experiences” (their term for games) varies. Since anyone with a computer can make games, the system is rife with half-assed and unfinished attempts, or shoddily-crafted ripoffs of more established games. In other words, the quality varies tremendously.

But one that stands out above the rest is “The Rake: Remastered”. Based off a creepypasta story, its premise is so simple that it seems impossible to live up to: You and your server mates are stranded in a forest, and must survive the night against an evil being that seems to derive joy out of slashing people to ribbons. During the daytime, which is a scant two-and-a-half minutes in real-time, you use points accrued from survivals and the selling of scrap metal, to purchase items that help give you a chance at making it out alive. Come night - which lasts an agonizing eight minutes and twenty seconds - you wander around the frozen hellscape, simply trying not to die. 

Enjoy the light while you have it.

Games like this tend to get boring fairly quickly. You might get scared the first few times, but once you understand how everything works, many games grow tiresome. This is true everywhere, but especially on Roblox, where inexperienced developers can churn out anything they want. So then it should come as no surprise that most horror “experiences” on the platform rely almost entirely on jumpscares. The Rake goes in the opposite direction, attempting to create an atmosphere of complete and utter terror. The Rake is almost inarguably the most vicious, unrelenting killer of any Roblox game. This isn’t one of the myriad games that aims to blend horror with “fun”. No, this is go-for-broke horror. It aims for the throat and doesn’t let go.

This is nearly pitch-perfect horror. Usually, concessions must be given to Roblox games, because the limited development teams (often just one or two people) mean fewer resources. So the games that are impressive in Roblox would often be considered flat and lifeless if fleshed out into an “actual” game. But “The Rake: Remastered” is that rare gem that isn’t just terrifying “for a Roblox game”; it’s terrifying across the board, period. I have played some genuinely scary games in my day, but most of them lose their ability to scare fairly quickly. This is especially true of linear games, where events and item locations can be memorized. I mean, as great as a game like “Amnesia” is, would it still be as scary if you played it through ten times? Hell, would it even be as scary the second time?

Good luck.

What sets The Rake apart from other monster games is the emphasis on survival. While it’s possible to defeat The Rake, success depends on pre-planned, collaborative efforts. This isn’t the type of game where you just go out with guns blazing; taking him on singlehandedly is a virtual death wish to even the most seasoned players. It requires the cooperation of multiple people all working in nearly-perfect tandem. So rare is it that, out of the 800+ rounds I’ve played, I’ve only been in a server where it’s happened around ten times. Ten. And those who attempt, but fail, run the risk of triggering Blood Hour, a rare and intense game mode that maxes out Rake’s speed and strength.

The map features a small collection of landmarks that offer temporary relief, but no guaranteed methods of survival. There’s the base camp, easily identifiable for the red lights that illuminate each side. There’s the observation tower, which sits at least a hundred feet above the ground and is only accessible via ladder. Then there’s the safe house, which isn’t nearly as safe as the name would lead you to believe.

But for each of their appeals lies a hidden (or obvious) dark side. The base camp is wide open and frequently patrolled by The Rake, who likes to sneak up on his usually-immobile prey here. The observation tower provides no way down should The Rake wander up the ladder (yes, he can climb) forcing the player to either accept their fate atop the tower, or take an incapacitating injury jumping off. And the safe house's damaged roof allows The Rake easy access to the occupants; as does the front door, which is forced open once the power goes out.

A few of the shop's cheaper items.

And boy does that power like to go out. The on-site power plant provides limited amounts of energy to virtually everything in the game. Once it’s depleted, it renders everything but the flashlight, map, compass and medikit completely useless. The power stays out until a player restarts it, a process that takes around 20 seconds and provides The Rake an easy, defenseless target. Waiting until day simply renders the most helpful survival tools completely useless.

For those who would rather just survive - and I’m firmly in that category - there are a few useful items. But, once again, all of them have tradeoffs that still leave the player vulnerable under certain conditions. Take the “Rake Tracker” for instance. It can detect him from up to 100 studs away, giving the player advanced notice as to his whereabouts. However, it’s not linked to a specific direction, so just seeing a number doesn’t tell you where he’s coming from. And the tracker updates every two or so seconds - a time frame that sounds fast, but is agonizingly slow as you await results. Hell, even the 100 stud detection distance is very, very short, giving you a split-second to make a decision before he spots you. 

And if he spots you, boy will you know it. Being spotted triggers a “cutscene” in which Rake elicits a bloodcurdling scream before running toward you. The camera automatically jerks the player towards him - no matter what way they were facing before - forcing them to quickly collect their bearings as they hastily attempt to flee the creature. Act too slowly, or run out of stamina, and you’re as good as dead, triggering a jumpscare that’s the stuff of horror legend: He delivers the final blow, accompanied by a high-pitched, bloodcurdling scream that’s several decibels louder than any other sound in the game. I mean, it’s so loud that I could see it damaging eardrums, or blowing speakers, for those who have it up too loud. The effect is something that you never really get used to, even after experiencing it dozens of times.

This is really your field of vision.

This is one of the most well-balanced horror games I’ve ever played, which only adds to the vulnerability. Some may call it “too difficult” or unfair. Any items purchased (or found) along the way are lost upon death (though they can often be re-purchased at the shop for the next round). Money is hard to come by, with the most effective items costing five or more survivals’ worth. The monster can run faster than a walking player, but not faster than a running one, leading to footraces that become more and more tense as a players’ energy bar is depleted. The sinking feeling of running out of energy during a chase - forcing you to walk instead of run, and knowing he’s still right behind you - is a feeling of helplessness few horror games manage to get right. And once he latches onto prey he “stalks” them walking slowly behind them, out of radar range, waiting for them to slow down or stop so he can make his move. Being attacked from behind results in a one-hit death no matter what.

This isn’t the type of monster game that holds the player’s hand. In fact, I’d venture to say it’s the perfect introductory experience to the horror genre for young ones. I’ll admit I introduced this to both my wife, and our five-year-old son. In both instances, they were so shaken at first they refused to go near it. Then, gradually, they both warmed up to it. It got to the point that my son was better at the game than I was, able to escape virtually every encounter with the monster. My wife soon followed suit, and we would frequently play the game together during “family” time. There’s just something so…genuine about traveling through a harsh winter hellscape to find your son’s Roblox alter-ego. Or getting separated from your family during a chase, suddenly leaving you vulnerable and alone. Or protecting them from the evil creature as they find themselves being attacked. It got to the point where we felt survivor’s guilt if we didn’t all make it out alive. It’s the type of game where survivals actually feel like an accomplishment.

If you see this, you're already dead.

Many detractors decry the game’s difficulty, or the price of the items. They complain that the gamepasses are required to get the most out of the game, at the expense of “real” money. They point to the game’s creator, known as RVVZ, who is known for making cash grabs. (Word on the street is his other game, “Criminality”, is so hard for beginners that it basically forces them to spend cash on weapons that are lost upon being killed. Ouch.) If that’s the case, his greed has inadvertently created a nearly perfect horror experience. It should be hard to kill the creature. It should make you work toward affording the more expensive items. (As an aside, supply drops can be called for via a flare gun hidden somewhere in the map every night. The drops, which are contained in a large crate dropped from an airplane, contain a random assortment of items - including expensive ones - allowing players to avoid having to use in-game currency. Players are limited to one item from the crate, which can be opened by anyone, regardless of who fired the flare. Thes usually only contain one or two weapons, though, so getting one is pretty rare.)

Okay, so at its core, this is still Roblox. And all the typical drawbacks of the platform still apply here. Players wear their in-game clothing, meaning it’s common to see, for example, a person dressed as a cat (or combinations much weirder than that) wandering around the frozen tundra. It’s a surreal experience that can certainly bring the horror levels down a notch or two. And, while not nearly as laughable as the humans, The Rake’s design - though greatly improved over past iterations - does look pretty dumb from afar. But tell me that when he pops up in front of you and starts giving chase. Or when you’re isolated in a safe house as he slowly tears the roof off. Or when you’re trapped on the observation tower with no chance of escape. It somehow manages to overcome its goofiness by delivering a primitive, effective horror experience.

Ah what the hell: A poorly recorded video of his full jumpscare.

Outside of outward appearance, one of the biggest drawbacks is that the Rake is prone to glitches. I know that no game is completely free of defects, but when it does happen, it can certainly destroy the menacing atmosphere. As an example, our son managed to get Rake to stand on his shoulders for almost an entire night, simply by standing directly in the spot that Rake drops into the safe house. He was there so long that, by the end of night, the entire server had gathered at the safe house to view the scene. (I have to admit I had a “proud father” moment over that one.) To be fair, he’s tried that trick many other times, and was usually killed pretty quickly. But on the other hand, he got the idea through watching a YouTube video; it’s clearly a known bug that should have been patched by the developers rather quickly.

But thanks to the overall quality of the product around it, these issues are minor. It doesn’t detract from the fact this should be played by every fan of the horror genre. Even non-gamers might find something to like here, such as the dreadful atmosphere and excellent sound design. It’s that incredibly rare Roblox game that’s begging for a remake outside of Roblox, with a better graphics engine, and free of Roblox’s many “rules” to ensure a somewhat family-friendly platform. (The original beta version of this, released five years ago, was actually banned for being too violent.)

Don’t let Roblox’s reputation as a place for children dissuade you from giving it a shot. This isn’t just far and away the scariest game I’ve ever played on the platform, it’s one of the scariest games I’ve ever played, period.

Overall: 9/10.

STATUS: RVVZ and company are working on a “part 2” update, which they assure us is coming “soon”. But considering it’s been 8 months with little word, and that iit took them 2 years to update “Classic Edition” to the “Remastered” version, I wouldn’t really be holding my breath for anything to happen in the foreseeable future.

Triangle (2009)

Director: Christopher Smith
Writer(s): Smith
Starring: Melissa George, Joshua McIvor, Jack Taylor and Liam Hemsworth

Look up a list of the best horror movies of the 2000s, and you just might find Triangle amongst other well-known classics. Yet it’s virtually unknown here in the United States, despite a fairly well-known cast (Melissa George is one of those actresses that you might not know her name, but chances are you’ve seen her before; a pre-fame Liam Hemsworth also has a supporting role), and unique storytelling structure. This is mainly because it inexplicably never received a theatrical release in the U.S., despite theatrical runs in the U.K., Belgium and the Netherlands.

I suppose it makes sense that it never reached U.S. shores in theatrical form, because it’s exactly the type of movie that only would have made it to the arthouses: It’s a twisty, sometimes confusing, but always engaging film that defies description. In other words, it's the exact antithesis of American cinema, which tends to require straightforward, linear stories that are neatly tied up by the end. 

In what seems to be the norm for me as of late, it is yet another film where discussing the plot at virtually any length risks spoiling many of the surprises; actually, I would say this film virtually demands you to go in without any former knowledge. 

Melissa George is Jess, an overwhelmed single mother with an autistic child. She clearly needs a break - something that’s painfully evident from the way she handles her son accidentally spilling some paint - and so a getaway on a sailboat with some friends seems to be just the thing she needs to help clear her mind. Only, things aren’t right from the start: she seems dazed and out-of-it from the very beginning…maybe this trip wasn’t so good for her after all.

A few minutes into the groups’ sailboating expedition, a sudden storm seems to come out of nowhere. Far from shore and caught off guard by the inexplicable change in weather, death seems inevitable for the group. That is, until a large ocean liner happens to virtually appear before their very eyes. The stranded group boards the large ship, expecting to find some people that can help them; they are shocked when they discover the vessel is completely abandoned. But Jess’ behavior only gets weirder from there…

Ignore the simple, mundane setup, because Triangle is anything but mundane: Once the story gets going, it’s one virtually unrelenting twist and turn right after the other. I always harp on how many genre films lack originality and are cliched in one way or another, but Triangle is one of the most unpredictable movies I’ve ever seen, with a story that grips you and never lets go. Everything seems resolved within the first 40 minutes, leaving the viewer wondering where the plot can even go for the remaining hour. it seems backed into a corner, with no way out. But not only does it keep chugging along, but it does so without a narrative misstep, or any over-the-top scenes that cast the viewer from its spell.

The “feel” of the film has been compared to the works of David Lynch, but that feels more like a copout than anything else. Why do people always feel the need to lump unique things into categories? It feels like a coping mechanism for critics to deal with something that they can’t fully understand. Triangle has a feel all its own; not once was I reminded of Lynch, or really anyone else for that matter. It has shades of Memento (a film which writer/director Christopher Smith acknowledges was a main influence), but it’s not even content with taking that film’s unique storytelling structure, without deconstructing it and turning it on its head. 

For being a “horror” film, it does manage to touch on some pretty weighty themes, such as the difficulties inherent of raising a special needs child, and how we as humans fall into seemingly unbreakable cycles, to name just a couple. Through one woman’s story, it summarizes a lot about the darker side of human nature; at the risk of offering up a very minor spoiler, I will say it’s certainly not a film for anyone who favors happy endings.

Actually, come to think of it, it’s not a film for anyone looking for an ending, period. I mean, sure, the movie ends, in the way every film has to. In just about the only cliched scene, it even ends the way most films do: with a cut to black and credits rolling across the screen. But, just like the events that precede that, the ending is ambiguous, with even the writer/director himself stating that there is no “right” answer: We are presented with clues, and then formulate our own opinion based around those clues; that’s often the mark of challenging, thoughtful cinema.

And challenging, thoughtful cinema has no place in cinemas here. 

RATING: 9/10

CHRISTMAS CAPSULES: Holly Star (2018)

Director: Michael A. Nickles    
Writer: Nickles
Starring: Katlyn Carlson, Brian Muller, Teya Patt, and Pamela Chabora

It’s only the second movie we’ve watched this holiday season, but it’s hard to imagine anything that follows topping Holly Star—this might just be the quintessential cheesy holiday movie; a near-perfect romp through formulaic territory that’s genuinely funny, legitimately charming, and that somehow feels fresh.

The plot is mostly typical: Sloan is a puppeteer (?) who is fired from her job; without a place to stay, she travels to her parents’ home—only to discover they’re out of town on a trip. No worries, though, because her old stomping grounds feature a large cast of characters that she grew up with, like best friend (and paintball aficionado) Kay K; her “young at heart and mind and body” grandmother, who lives in a senior care facility that she also apparently runs; and Andy, her childhood friend who returns home once a year to help his parent’s run a Christmas tree farm. Honestly, it’s my nightmare collection of characters (there aren’t many things I hate more in movies than the grandma character with boundless energy who acts like a young person for comedic effect; that’s up there with “fat person dancing” as the cheapest, laziest, and unfunniest of all clichés), but somehow they never become annoying; I think it also helps that—with the exception of Teya Patt’s Kay K—the overacting is kept to a bare minimum, which at least helps to ground it more in “reality”.

But there’s also another piece to Sloan’s puzzle: Every time she gets close to death (and it oddly happens more than once), she has flashbacks to her childhood, when she witnessed Santa Claus burying a bag full of money. She becomes virtually obsessed with finding the location of that bag, even going so far as to planning out her own near-death experience (with the help of Kay K), in an effort to stir up further memories. But is it the treasure that she’s really after? Or is Santa leading her to something that’s worth far more than money?

We all know how it’s going to end up: the refreshing part is how it goes about getting there. The story weaves its way through drunken Santa pub crawls, nursing home tango nights, and dickish impound lot managers, but never once loses its footing. It approaches—and perhaps even surpasses—“over-the-top” territory, but it never feels forced; it never feels like the material is getting out of control, the way it often does with these kind of movies, which seem to be quickly-produced in an effort to maximize earning potential.

The disparate, mismatched plot elements sound like they would be a certifiable mess (and they technically should be), but somehow, like most everything else, it just works: this is one of those ultra-rare holiday movies that isn’t just enjoyable for “what it is”; it’s enjoyable, period. The casting is spot-on, the writing is almost pitch-perfect, and the use of puppets (courtesy of Figures of Speech) is an inspiring, artsy gamble that will no doubt turn off as many as it impresses. Maybe most importantly: it’s actually funny, and with a unanimously likable cast.

It also doesn’t hurt that Katlyn Carlson’s Sloan is absolutely adorable. It can’t be easy hiring the leads for a holiday romance, because I’m finding in order for them to “work” the best, they have to be attractive, but not overly so; they must also balance the looks with a certain level of “girl (or boy) next door” innocence. Again, it can’t be too much (I loathe the movies where the filmmakers go out of their way to make the main character too perfect, and too oblivious to everything), which is why it’s actually tougher than it would seem, and why a large portion of these movies disappoint upon execution. There needs to be something good to look at, almost as a distraction while you swallow the same plot lines and one-dimensional characters for the millionth time.

Sloan strikes that perfect balance: she’s attractive by looks alone, but not in a way that I would consider “conventional”: she’s not a supermodel, but nor is she “plain”. She has a look that’s all…her. Factor in her laid-back attitude, and she becomes a woman that even I would marry; that certainly makes it a lot easier to root for characters when you actually feel some kind of connection.

If I had to pick the “weakest link” of the story, I would say this probably isn’t one that will cater to true fans of Christmas romances; there are so many plot devices that the romantic element feels like a recurring theme, moreso than the focus. There aren’t really true “sparks” between the characters, either, because they are given shockingly little screentime together; there were more than a couple parts where I legitimately forgot I was watching a romance, simply because that part of the story frequently seems to be on the backburner. That being said, though, the romantic elements don’t feel “forced”, and the two leads are cute together—while there might not be mind-blowing chemistry, their personalities fit well, and they seem like they would be a good match.

I guess that’s why this movie worked for me: I’m certainly not the main demographic for these movies, because I often find the romance parts to be the least compelling. Holly Star has enough plot for two or three typical romance movies, and because of that, the “love” story seems to be put on the backburner more often than not. I’d assume this viewpoint was just limited to me if my wife—who legitimately does find excitement in the “romantic” aspects of these movies—loved it just as much as I did.

So why the lower-than-average rating on IMDb? I’m not quite sure, but it leads me to believe you have to have an open-mind, and a tolerance for a movie that’s willing to mess around with the straightforward linear formula expected of these movies. It doesn’t tweak it much, but enough that it might turn off diehard fans of the gag-inducing straightforwardness of the romance movies of old. And in its wake, it leaves a refreshing holiday romance that might be light on “romance”, but that makes up for it with loads of charm, humor, and puppets.

Who knew that combination could ever combine to form the best cheesy holiday romance movie we’ve ever seen?

RATING: 9/10

TRAILER

SIDE NOTE: The film's director breaks down the shooting of this movie, which was - like many other holiday productions - shot on a low budget. This article from Moviemaker.com is a fascinating read for those interested on topics from the other side of the camera; he also doesn't come off as an irritating douchebag like I thought he might.

MARVEL...OUS MARVISTA? Falling Star (aka Goyband) (2008)

Director: Christopher Grimm
Writer(s): Christa McNamee, Dan Bar Hava, and Grimm
Starring: Adam Pascal, Amy Davidson, Natasha Lyonne, and Zoe Lister-Jones

Boy, oh boy, oh boy. Fresh off a screening of the surprisingly solid (but poorly titled) Friend Request (the 2020 version, not the 2016 slice of mega-cheese), we figured we had nowhere to go but down with whatever we chose to be our next movie. And we wouldn’t have even settled on this one were it not for the overly ridiculous plot (even for MarVista standards), in which a former boy band member—who is not Jewish—gets invited to play at the grand opening of a Kosher Casino (?), and falls for a Jewish girl—who is the daughter of the hotel’s owner, and arranged to be married to someone else (??).

“How did a movie like this even get made,” you may be thinking to yourself. I know I was, especially given its very low budget, which is immediately evident from the first frame (while subpar picture quality remains as a constant reminder throughout). By the time ten minutes rolled around, after the plot started unfolding and it quickly became evident that this movie is in on its own joke, those thoughts suddenly switched to, “Wait, how can this movie be any good?!”

I've asked for it many times before, and now I've gotten it: Behind the intriguingly over-the-top story is that rare movie that actually challenges MarVista's formula. Were they going through an identity crisis when they purchased the rights to distribute this film (changing the title from Goyband, to Falling Star in the process), or did they just purchase the rights based on a plot synopsis, without ever having seen the film? I ask because this plays out like an anti-MarVista production, rather than the “real” thing: those expecting the typical “underdog love tale” between a former star and a lifelong fan will be shockingly disappointed—and not in the way you might expect.

Adam Pascal (of “Rent” fame, both movie and play) is Bobby Starr, that disgraced former boy-bander, whose attempts at a solo career are...bad. Think “playing at a bowling alley to uncaring children” bad. Then, his manager books him for a potentially lucrative show: the grand opening of a kosher casino in the Catskills. How in the world did a non-Jew land such a gig? At the insistence of Rebekka, the daughter of the hotel's owner, who has followed his career from day one, along with her best friends Hani and Fani (Natasha Lyonne!). And while Bobby isn't at all enthused about the gig—especially when he learns he must tone down the sexuality in order to appeal to the conservative crowd—he isn't really in any position to refuse.

All that changes when he hears Rebekka singing one of his songs while passing by her room. His interest is immediately piqued when he sees her for the first time, and the two eventually start a hidden friendship that threatens to quickly blossom into true love. But if it gets out, it could spell trouble for everyone involved: Rebekka's hand in marriage has already been promised to Haim, who's the son of the Grand Rabbi, who happens to be the only person that can grant Rebekka's father's casino the kosher certification needed to operate...

While this is already enough plot for one movie, it still hasn't touched upon the janitor that Bobby befriends, who moonlights as a music producer (?) and who offers to give Bobby's music the “soul” that it's missing. Or the two gay hotel workers who help choreograph a “kosher” version of his routine. But unlike most MarVista flops, where more characters just mean more annoyances, would you believe it if I told you that every single one serve a purpose, and that all of them are likable?! (Except for the ones that aren't supposed to be, of course.)

There is a surprising amount of depth to each of them that caught me completely off guard: these aren't just your typical half-assed characters, but fully-fleshed out humans who are all trying their best to live their lives by the religious virtues that they believe in. And even though it's a “religious” movie at heart, there is no preachiness, or forced revelations, or sudden acts of God: in fact, every single character questions their own religious viewpoints at some point, wondering if they are doing what's best for themselves, and God, and even trying to find a happy medium between the two.

I sadly know nothing about Judaism (I wasn’t even entirely sure what “kosher” meant, despite having heard the term thousands of times before), but that’s one of the movie’s strengths: despite using a lot of Jewish terms, they’re utilized in such a way that it’s pretty obvious what the terms are in reference to, even for the unfamiliar. Credit must be given to the filmmakers, who present a realistic look into the religion without sugarcoating any of it, and who balance an interesting love story with natural, good-hearted characters.

The cast is great, especially Adam Pascal as the disgraced former star, who has the perfect look to match a character desperately clinging to the success of his past. Rebekka (Amy Davidson, known for her role in “8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter”) is good as his obsessed fan, and while their chemistry together is wildly uneven (she goes from being in awe of his presence to acting like a casual fan almost instantly), it's cute and innocent enough to work.

As for the ending, well...I won't give away specifics, but let's just say it will no doubt serve as a gut punch for those expecting the typical lovey-dovey finish. But even that is done very well: once the initial shock dies down, that's when you realize that everyone gets what he or she wanted, and everything works out for the best. And that is something that I wouldn't have expected to ever learn from watching a MarVista movie: that sometimes what's best for us in life, isn't always the thing that we think we want.

STRAY OBSERVATIONS

• Were they aware his character shares the name, and is just one changed letter away, from a porn star's?
• The world “goy” is Yiddish for “non-Jewish male”. Hence, the original title is a play on words.
• It's refreshing to me that the “villain” in the movie—the man to whom Rebekka is arranged to be married—is still acting within the parameters of his religion. Sure, his comments about “wanting her” and his constant attempts to consummate a future marriage come off as cringey, especially to Western audiences (and because Rebekka clearly doesn't want it), but it does feel as though he really likes her, and since she is to be his future wife, he is only trying to show her that. In the creepiest way possible, but hey, that's the way things are in more old-fashioned, male-dominated cultures.
• The re-titling of the movie to Falling Star, rather than Starr (which is the main character's last name), is rather curious. It could be referring to the “Star of David”, but considering the front cover art has no Jewish references, it seems like a rather odd omission.
• Despite the tone of this review, it's not a perfect movie, but I'm just going to bask in the afterglow of perhaps the only movie in MarVista's catalogue that attempts to have both a brain and a heart. Who knew they had it in them?

RATING: 9/10

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Better Watch Out (2016)

Director: Chris Peckover
Writer(s): Zack Kahn and Peckover, from a story by Kahn.
Starring: Olivia DeJonge, Levi Miller, Ed Oxenbould, and Aleks Mikic

There are an untold number of films that give away too much in the trailer. For example, a specific twist, or a key scene, or a bit of foreshadowing that, once you start watching the movie, makes everything come together and eliminates the need for you to actually sit through it. After all, studios make their money by putting people in theater seats, regardless of what they think of the film, and so they will do anything they can to put butts in the seats.

Along these same lines, there are films that are also intentionally mis-marketed and made into something that they aren't, often with disastrous results. For example, studio execs may decide to put an emphasis on action in a film that focuses more on dialogue and pacing, to make it seem more action-packed than it really is, and to appeal more to people who enjoy that kind of film. It's a deceiving tactic, but Hollywood isn't a world known for its honesty. Besides, once they get you to commit, and take your money, there's little you can do (besides ask for a refund, which is oddly something that very few people seem to ever do; thinking about it, I've never thought of doing it, and I've hated plenty of theatrical films that I've seen).

But rarely has the art of the trailer been so brilliantly subverted as it is in Chris Peckover's Better Watch Out, a film that intentionally prepares you for something that it's not. It's all just one layer of unpredictability in a film that gleefully subverts genre expectations to deliver a film that still delivers the promised dark comedy, albeit in a very unexpected manner. (Also, ignore the multiple reviews that claim the finale abandons humor in favor of seriousness; it doesn't, though the already dark comedy does find a darker shade of black.)

Olivia DeJonge plays Ashley, a teenaged babysitter who has been tasked with watching over 12-year-old Luke (excellently played by Levi Miller) while his parents go to a party. Judging from the interactions between the two, she has done this many times before, but this night is different; she will be moving out of the state in just a couple short weeks, and wanted to say goodbye to the family by babysitting Luke one final time.

But what should be an easy paycheck starts to go off the rails from the outset: her boyfriend Ricky keeps calling her, much to the chagrin of Luke, who plans on letting her know how he really feels by putting the moves on her. This becomes both of their smallest concerns when figures start appearing in the windows, and noises are heard outside. Soon after, an upstairs window breaks; a quick investigation reveals that the culprit is a brick featuring a pretty straightforward, but rather frightening warning--”U Leave, U Die”. Luke's friend Garrett tests this theory by losing his cool and running panicked out the backdoor—and that's when everyone learns that whoever is behind this means business. Are these the actions of a spurned ex-boyfriend? A jealous current boyfriend? Or something else entirely?

And that's also where I will drop you off on this plot guide, because to go any further would require me to reveal certain plot points that are an integral part of the viewing experience. In fact, do yourself a favor and go into a viewing of this knowing as little as possible, and that will severely heighten the chances that you appreciate the twists and turns; the countless zigs and the zags.

The strengths of Better Watch Out are numerous, ranging from the quality of the script, to the brilliant performances throughout. In the past it has always felt like horror films in general—from the big budget studio fare, all the way down to the indiest of indies—have always been treated as an afterthought, with B-grade (or worse) talent being shoved in front of and behind the cameras. Now, with the success of movies like the It remake, and Get Out bringing large quantities of cash and success to studios (who only care about the cash part), it seems that the genre is finally starting to be taken seriously as a whole, rather than just the catalyst of pointless fads (the non-stop onslaught of post-Scream slasher films; the non-stop onslaught of post-Blair Witch found footage films).

It also marks the first time in a long while that I wasn't turned off by a characters' actions. All of them act within their characterizations, with no one breaking character to do something incredibly dumb. Granted, much of this is cleverly avoided by keeping characters within confined areas (thus severely limiting the number of available actions to them in the first place), but that's also a testament to the tightness of the idea and ensuing execution. (The one moment that could be considered a convenient bit of horror ignorance actually turns out to be a perfectly calculated moment when the plot starts falling into place.)

Imagine my surprise when a quick search revealed that this was not the creation of an up-and-coming horror auteur, but rather a work of a man whose previous sole feature-length directing credit was 2010's indifferently-received found-footage thriller Undocumented, which seems like such a run-of-the-mill horror film that I never even bothered to watch it, despite being tempted numerous times in the past by the admittedly intriguing poster. I still won't, for fear that it will lead me to lose respect for the man, but it's also a sobering reminder that (sometimes) talent cannot be judged just from one or two works. (To wit, who would have ever expected that Peter Jackson, he of Dead/Alive and Meet the Feebles infamy, would go on to helm one of the most epic and widely-acclaimed trilogies in the history of film?)

The ending did wrap things up a little too nicely for my liking, but I suppose it will be a welcome diversion for most audiences, who I'm told do not appreciate endless bleakness and nihilism, especially in their Christmas stories (and for what it's worth, there is a coda after the credits that actually addresses the “kindness” of the ending). That's really the only drawback in a film that's otherwise strong in just about ever other category. It will be interesting to see how time treats this: it will no doubt be on the short list of Christmas-themed horror classics, that much is known, but I wouldn't be surprised to find it on the list of top horror films of the year, decade, or maybe even quarter-century.

RATING: 9/10

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Rope (1948)

Director: Alfred Hitchcock
Writer(s): Adapted by Hume Cronyn, from a play by Patrick Hamilton. Written for the screen by Arthur Laurents.
Starring: James Stewart, John Dall, and Farley Granger

My interest in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope began when I was a teenager interested in filmmaking, and that is the only reason I tracked it down. My interest in Alfred Hitchcock also begins and ends there; for some reason, I have never been into old films, a disinterest that even carries with me to this day. They’re just too theatrical and staged, with outdated acting styles and visual effects that take me right out of the movie. It is for those reasons, that I simply do not enjoy watching them, and rarely seek them out.

But Rope features a technological breakthrough unlike any (to my knowledge) up to that time period, and one that really helped to open my eyes to the possibility of film: It’s presented as one long, continuous take. Now, as we know now, that’s not entirely true—it was actually made up of eight 10-minute long takes, with the cuts obscured (though obvious) by close-ups on the actor’s clothing—but for my young, impressionable mind, it opened my eyes to a world I had never really thought about before. It made me think of the rules of cinema, and how they could be obliterated. Unfortunately, I never amounted to much as a filmmaker, besides a few incomplete projects made with friends, and while I still have an appreciation for the craft, my interest in it has died down over the years.

It wasn’t just about the long takes for me, as intriguing as they were: this is also a perfect example of low-budget minimalism. Thanks to this, I was also drawn to the idea of a movie taking place within one or two locations, which also made it easier and cheaper to shoot. Such an idea sounds like an easy thing to do in practice, but in reality, you also need a near-perfect plot that will be able to handle filming in such confined quarters. Rope even has that aspect covered, too, thanks to its original iteration as a play.

Brandon and Philip are two friends who murder one of their classmates, David Kentley, and proceed to hide his body in a chest in the middle of their living room. Eager to test the level of perfection in their crime, they invite over those closest to David for a party: his girlfriend, Janet, his father, Mr. Kentley, his aunt, Mrs. Atwater (they actually invited his mother instead, but she is sick and unable to make it), his rival, Kenneth, and their old teacher, Rupert Cadell. Their housekeeper, Mrs. Wilson, is also thrown into the mix. For about an hour, we sit in on the party, as the duo drop ominous hints to their dinner guests, as if daring them to connect the dots.

Of course, it stands to reason that one of them must be emotionally fragile and eventually come undone, and Philip definitely fits that bill in this regard. He expresses regret almost immediately after the murder, and wishes to call off the little gathering. But Brandon is the required cocky and arrogant ringleader, who assures Philip everything will be okay even as his clues get more and more gutsy, especially as the night wears on, and the usually-reliable David still doesn’t show up.

Rope is successful as a thriller due in large part to the excellent camerawork and fiendish creativity that combine to really heighten the tension. For example, there are scenes where the camera will linger on the chest housing David’s dead body as characters walk near it or stand over it; the fact that he is literally right under their nose, while they remain completely oblivious, is maddening. Or there’s the fiendish touch of Brandon giving some books to David’s father, with the set held together by the very piece of rope used to murder his son. “Brilliant” is not a word I like to throw around very often when describing a film, but it’s definitely appropriate here.

The main reason I can’t get into older movies is because of the style of acting: it just feels too amateurish and theatrical, especially when compared to the acting of today. The performances in Rope are no different, but given its simple story and single set, it feels more like a movie than a play, so I didn’t find that it detracted from my interest in it at all. It’s also a master-class in minimalism, with Hitchcock wringing an astounding amount of tension from a simple story. He would go on to create many classic films, many of which have gone on to eclipse this one in terms of popularity, but there’s a good chance none of them would have existed had it not been for Rope.

RECAP: Rope is a true suspense classic, with Hitchcock wringing a ton of tension from a single set. It’s also a masterpiece of technology, as the film was shot in eight 10-minute takes (with hidden cuts, which give the illusion that it was shot all in one). The film’s theatrical-style acting, standard for that time period, works excellently here, as the movie has the feeling of a play more than a film (which makes sense given that it was originally a play, adapted into a film). He would go on to direct many films regarded as “classic” over the ensuing years, but it would be a crime for this to ever fall through the cracks.

RATING: 9/10

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Eerie Indiana, S1 E18: Reality Takes a Holiday

Starring:
Omri Katz as Marshall Teller
Justin Shenkarow as Simon Holmes
Mary-Margaret Humes as Marilyn Teller
Francis Guinan as Edgar Teller
Julie Condra as Syndi Teller
Jason Marsden as Dash-X
John Astin as Radford
Mark Blankfield as Jose Schaefer
Joe Dante as Himself

Written by: Vance DeGeneres (yes, from THAT DeGeneres family!)

Directed by: Ken Kwapis

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Aaaah, “Reality Takes a Holiday”, perhaps the most famous of all “Eerie, Indiana” episodes. And rightfully so, because for the first time, or at least the first time in a while, it feels like the show is dictating everything on its own terms. I've complained in the past about many things in this series, even though I like it: the pointlessness of certain characters (Dash-X and Syndi spring to mind), the uneven balance of creativity (some episodes seem like the show was trying to set a new standard for young adult shows, while others felt like they were just trying to blend in), etc., but I have to say that they wisely saved (one of) the best for last. This isn't just a great final episode of a children's show; this is a great final episode, period. (I guess this comes with an asterisk: This was the final episode of the original run. A nineteenth episode, which is not very good, was added on after the show was syndicated.)

It starts off a day like any other: The Teller family, plus Simon, are sitting around the lunch table, trying to beckon Marshall into going with them to see Revenge of the Corn Critters (a film the Wilson Twins give “two fingers up”, to which Simon jests, “Which fingers?”), the sequel to the popular first film. Marshall, per the usual, doesn't want to go, if for no other reason than everyone else does; he stays home while the rest head off to see the movie.

While he's outside, seeing them off, he decides to check mail. And there, in the mailbox, is a copy of a screenplay. A screenplay for a show called “Eerie, Indiana”, and an episode titled “Reality Takes a Holiday.” Confused, he reads through the first couple pages, which are a word-for-word repeat of the conversation he just had with his family. He re-enters his house...only to find his entire family sitting there, staring at him. Wait, didn't they just leave? His father utters a sentence to him, he repeats it back, and then Edgar loses it, cursing his inability to remember his lines. “Cut!” says a voice in the background, and everything is revealed to be nothing more than a set in a studio soundstage.

It all seems like a joke, and one that only poor Marshall isn't in on: He seems genuinely baffled when people keep referring to him as Omri (his “real life” name), and telling him that he is screwing up lines that he had no idea he even had. Amidst all the chaos and anger of the people around him, all he wants to know is, “What happened to my house?”

There's some inspired humor in the complete change between the way the characters act on the show, and their real-life personas: For example, Justin Shenkarow (who plays Simon), goes from sweet and innocent, to an egotistical maniac who consistently likes to harass women (he tries hitting on Julie Condra, who plays Syndi, provoking a slap at one point), and yell at his agent over his own personal cell phone in between takes. Francis Guinan (Edgar), throws on a sweater as a scarf and speaks with the accent of a sophisticated gentleman (“Really Omri? These lines aren't that hard to memorize. It isn't as if we're doing [laugh] Chekhov.”) And so breaks the fourth wall: Everyone is aware they are part of a television show, except for Marshall, who is actually stuck in character. Pretty clever, right?

In trying to escape his reality, he runs out of the indoor set, where he ends up on the studio lot. Dozens of people are moving about, carrying props and backgrounds, to the many soundstages nearby. This is when Marshall hears a familiar voice, and enters into The World o' Stuff, run by Mr. Radford. Radford doesn't appear to be “in on it”, as he refers to Marshall by “Marshall”, and seems to be a real shop owner. But when Marshall tells him his problem, Mr. Radford pulls out a copy of the script, telling him the answers always lie within those pages. They skip ahead to find out how everything is resolved...only to discover that the ending of the episode hasn't been written yet!

Figuring that if there's a script, there has to be a writer, Marshall heads to the office of Jose Schaefer (a combination between the names of the two series co-creators) to get to the bottom of this. As it turns out, Dash-X is planning on having Marshall killed off in this episode, an idea that Jose is on board with. This will allow Dash to take over as the new lead. But since everything is real to Marshall...does that mean that he will literally die in real life?

He doesn't intend to find that out. Instead, he sneaks into Jose's office and re-writes the ending to the episode, giving it to Jose's secretary to deliver to the production crew. Marshall shows back up on set, where they are excited to see him, and joins his acting family at the dinner table from the first scene. What is taking so long for the rewrite to arrive? (It's the 1991 printer, which has to make enough copies for everyone on set). He stalls for a few moments, while Dash is relishing the opportunity to kill him. Then, at last, it arrives.

Marshall closes his eyes in relief...only to discover his onscreen family staring at him when he reopens them. They're still waiting for an answer. Is he or isn't he going to see the movie with them? Shocked, Marshall gets up and looks outside, where he sees neighbors enjoying a beautiful summer day; he's no longer on a set, but back to real life! As a token of thanks, he agrees to see the movie with his family, but a page of script catches his eye...

I've said it a million times over the course of these episodes, but this show was always at its peak when it wasn't afraid to do its own thing, and it certainly wasn't afraid here. The entire installment, from concept to execution, is pretty close to genius. It doesn't quite usurp “Heart on a Chain's” place on the throne as the best this show ever produced, but it's easily the best example of the show's trademark lighthearted quirkiness. (Listening to Syndi berate Marilyn for getting a tattoo by saying, “Self-mutilation is playing right into the hands of the male power structure,” is a thing of beauty. So too, is Marilyn's response: “It's my midlife crisis. You'll know what it's like in ten years.” So too, again, is Syndi's response: “Fifteen.”)

It would be impossible for one episode to completely justify the sudden appearance of Dash-X, but this one deserves points for trying. We've always known that he has always been drawn into situations for selfish reasons (usually involving beefing up his bank account), so to see him try to oust Marshall so he can take over as the show's star comes as close as possible to explaining his role in the show, in an almost "meta" kinda way. It feels like he was working “undercover” to get what he wanted all along, helping Marshall out to gain his trust so he could ultimately tear the rug out from under him...for good.

This would be the perfect episode for those looking to get into the series and see some of the best it has to offer, but I'm hesitating to recommend it in that regard, because many of the remaining episodes just don't reach its lofty heights. Besides, who eats the cherry on a sundae first? It's best to save it for last, knowing that there's always a light at the end of the tunnel, should you ever want to quit watching the series. I'm not certain this would go down as one of the great farewells in episodic television history, simply because I don't watch enough full series to make an accurate statement on that, but I am fairly certain that a strong case could be made.

EPISODE RATING: 9/10

FULL EPISODE

As expected, they have started taking full episodes off of YouTube. Click here for an alternate link.

Pulp Fiction (1994)

Director: Quentin Tarantino
Writer(s): Tarantino, from a story by Tarantino and Roger Avery
Starring: John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson, Bruce Willis, Uma Thurman

What can you say about Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction that hasn’t been already said by thousands of critics and moviegoers?  It launched the career of Tarantino, rejuvenated John Travolta’s, and raised the stock of Samuel L. Jackson, Tim Roth, and Bruce Willis tenfold.  It’s a crime caper, featuring an anthology of loosely-connected stories that was considered ingenious and daring during its release.  But now that the dust has settled, and we have had 21 years to acclimate ourselves with this talky action classic, does it still hold up as well as it used to?

Before we get to that, let’s just run through the plot.  This will be a mere formality, as dozens of other articles will go into it more in depth, and analyze it down to the most minute of details, if that’s what you’re looking for; likewise, if you’re actually planning on watching it, and have never seen it before, the less you know about it, the better.  Pulp Fiction begins with two petty criminals (Amanda Plummer and Tim Roth) in a restaurant; together, on a whim, they come up with an idea to rob the restaurant, figuring no one would be expecting that.

After this, we meet Vincent Vega (Travolta) and Jules Winnfield (Jackson), two hitmen who are discussing the differences between European and American fast food establishments, on their way to a hit.  Afterwards, Vincent is tasked with taking out a young lady, Mia Wallace, who happens to be the boss’ wife.  Then, we meet Butch (Bruce Willis), an aging boxer who makes an agreement with Marsellus Wallace (Ving Rhames, and the aforementioned boss) to take a dive in the first round of his next boxing match—but things go awry when Butch reneges on his agreement, instead winning by KO...and killing his opponent.  These stories go much farther and deeper into detail, but the movie contains so many surprises and twists that I wouldn’t want to ruin it by accidentally giving something away—this should nevertheless get you through the first hour, or so, and then things get really interesting.

Pulp Fiction gained most of its fame from the way it was shot—these stories are told in fragmented bits and parts, with the chronology jumping all over the place.  So, for example, after one character is killed, he still may reappear in a later segment alive, because the story has jumped backwards in time.  It sounds confusing, and though the unconventional approach might be a little disorienting at first, most people will get accustomed to the constant jumping around within a few scenes.  Some of the stories are loosely intertwined, with characters appearing in the story arcs of another, and the whole restaurant intro comes back at the end to bring everything full circle…it’s a genius narrative gimmick that was mind-blowing in its day, and still holds up fairly well today, even though a spate of copycats over the years have somewhat diminished its potency.

Aside from Quentin Tarantino’s questionable (and completely unnecessary) decision to put himself in the role of Jimmie, where he looks terribly out of place, the acting is almost flawless across the board.  This is definitely a good thing, because if the acting wasn’t up to snuff, then the film’s long-winded ramblings would have come across as pompous and egotistical.  Somehow, the actors take them and make them not only believable, but entertaining, which couldn’t have been an easy feat.

I could probably ramble on about the cinematography, or the special effects, or the interesting story behind its production, or how Tarantino was said to have modeled the multi-tiered “anthology” premise of his story off of none other than legendary Italian horror director Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath (my favorite horror film of all time), but all of these things have been examined in greater detail, by writers far more talented than I.  All I know is, this is a movie worthy of its praise, and while the years have slightly diminished the strength and originality of its fragmented storytelling, there is no denying the influence that Tarantino’s movie continues to exert on modern films.  While I’m not sure I would consider it one of my favorite movies of all time, it’s required viewing simply for the rags-to-riches story—how one man, armed with a camera, endless determination, and with a little luck—could go on to make the highest-grossing independent film of its time, and change the face of cinema in the process.

RECAP: Pulp Fiction is one of the rare movies that deserves just about all of the praise that it gets.  Despite its 152-minute run time, it remains fascinating throughout, mainly due to the narrative structuring, as well as its willingness to wallow in unpredictability.  Aside from Tarantino’s terrible performance, the rest of the actors bring their “A” game, which help to give character to most of the constant monologues and quirky dialogue.  Say what you want about it, or Tarantino in general (his modern interviews are so egotistical that they come off as cringe-worthy), there’s no denying that his independent feature helped to change the face of mainstream cinema.

RATING: 9/10

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Hausu (1977)

Director: Nobuhiko Ôbayashi
Writer(s): Chiho Katsura, from an idea by Chigumi Ôbayashi
Starring: Kimiko Ikegami, Miki Jinbo, Kimiko Ohba, and Ai Matsubara

If Criterion, the company that released this long-hidden Japanese “haunted house” flick to the masses, can’t find a fitting way to describe it on the back of its own DVD case, then how am I supposed to describe it to you, my loyal readers?  The internet is chock-full of attempts to accurately convey what you’re in for when you sit down to a screening of Nobohiko Obayashi’s Hausu (House), and while they all succeed to some extent, the only way to really get an understanding of what it’s all about is simply to watch it.  It’s every bit as bizarre and indefinable as you've been lead to believe. 

But to simply dismiss it as a part horror, part comedy oddity is to ignore the freewheeling genius of Obayashi’s vision:  It’s a non-stop parade of originality, unveiled at a truly feverish, awe-inspiring pace.  Yet it’s all somehow imbued with an undercurrent of sincere emotion; the final sequence makes a statement that would be eye-rolling and preachy in any other work of melodramatic fiction, and yet here—amidst a sea of non-sequiturs and outlandish behavior—it somehow hits home, if for no other reason than it seems to be the only genuine scene in this whole state of affairs.

Describing the plot of Hausu is a truly futile, frustrating process, so I will just stick to the bare minimum:  Gorgeous (that is her name) plans to take a vacation with her father, who reveals at the last minute that another woman will be accompanying them: she is Ryouko, a woman that her father has been dating, without Gorgeous' knowledge, for some time now.  Disgusted at the thought of her dad getting over the loss of her mother so quickly (she died a whopping eight years ago), she refuses to accompany him, and instead writes a letter to an aunt that she has not seen in a decade, asking if she can come and visit her in her creepy secluded mansion.

She gets a letter back, accepting her request, and rounds up some friends from school to go with her.  Amusingly, similar to Gorgeous (so known because of her good looks) all of her friends are also named based on their personalities: There’s Prof (short for professor; she’s smart), Mac (is larger than the rest and always craves food), Fantasy (who is always daydreaming), Sweet (who is a clean freak), Kung Fu (who likes to fight), and Melody (who can play the piano).  All of them will rely on their unique traits to get them out of (or to put them in) perilous situations as it becomes apparent the house as a mind of its own.

But I’m getting a little ahead of myself here.  The aunt seems to be very excited to have visitors, as it is reiterated again and again that visitors rarely, if ever, come around.  Then, all of a sudden Mac disappears.  The remaining girls alternate between occasional concern and a complete lack of sympathy, as they continue to explore the house and all of its creepy nuances.  Not surprisingly, Mac’s disappearance is only the tip of the iceberg, and soon the house begins to pick off the survivors one by one.

The truth is, no amount of words can accurately convey just what makes Hausu so special; its charms mainly lie in the exhausting number of visual tricks and effects that Obayashi implements to bring his story to life: layers of video are layered on top of each other, disembodied heads come to life and attack, pianos devour unsuspecting women…and these instances are but a small fraction lying in wait to ambush oblivious folks who pop a copy of Hausu into their preferred media player of choice.  Often, the effects themselves are pretty awful, just as they probably were even back in 1977, when this film was made.  But they’re carried out with such a childish enthusiasm and infectious energy that they somehow work, before we move right on to the next set-piece.

According to the booklet that accompanies the Criterion DVD, Obayashi took many of the ideas for the plot from his eleven-year-old daughter, which suddenly puts some things into a little more perspective:  Was he attempting to make this movie the way he imagines she would have?  Or was he taking the idea of a haunted house horror film, and intentionally twisting it into a children’s film that his daughter could enjoy?  Where did the collaboration between him and his daughter stop?  The frantic visuals and neverending imagination don’t seem so weird and out-of-place when armed with this knowledge.

Whatever your opinion of Hausu, one thing is for certain: There’s enough imagination on display here to cover the amount of originality in a year’s worth of mainstream horror releases.  It won’t wow you with its plot (though the stilted dialogue is often hilarious), but its infectious sense of fun will win over all but the most jaded of audiences.  There’s some nudity, which kind of feels a little forced, and out-of-place (these girls are all supposed to be 16), but aside from bleeding walls, not much violence or gore to speak of, making it acceptable for most older audiences. 

RECAP: It doesn’t make much sense, but that doesn’t prevent Hausu from being, quite possibly, one of my favorite horror-themed films of all time.  Based off plotlines suggested by the director’s eleven-year-old daughter, it’s a seamless blend of wild inventiveness and childish enthusiasm, blended with an absolute fearlessness to try new things that is never short of awe-inspiring.  It’s certainly not for everyone (it’s probably not for most people), but if you enjoy original works, this is a movie you simply have to see to believe.

RATING: 9/10

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Carnival of Souls (1962)

Director: Herk Harvey
Writer(s): John Clifford
Starring: Candace Hilligoss, Frances Feist, Sidney Berger, and Herk Harvey

Carnival of Souls is the kind of movie where either nothing happens, or everything does; by the end, you will probably know just as little as you did in the beginning.  And yet it is somehow accomplished in an utterly transfixing, and completely engrossing way.  All too often filmmakers seem to feel the need to explicitly answer every question they pose, to tie every subplot up with a neat and tidy little bow, and make sure they ever so gently hand the gift-wrapped story device to us, lest we be caught off guard by any of it.

Carnival of Souls works in the complete opposite direction; it seems to get sadistic glee out of intentionally posing questions for us, and then leaving them to permanently dangle in midair.  It also seems to enjoy going out of its way to ensure that there is no neat or tidy explanation; the internet is chockfull of theories as to what exactly happens, and while there are some completely fascinating ones, even the best of them can be refuted by a single scene.

This mindset, paired up with some nightmarish imagery, and a complete disregard for structuring, makes this a jarring, almost experimental work.  It’s one of those rare low-budget horror movies that would have only been hindered with a larger cash supply, as the minimalist approach suits it well.

It all begins with a drag race:  At a red light, Mary Henry and her two friends are challenged to one.  The other car has two men in it, but what starts off as a friendly battle quickly turns to tragedy, when Mary’s car veers off a bridge—despite the desperate rescue attempts of passersby, and eventually the local authorities, there are no signs of life.  Well, until what appears to be an hour or so later, when Mary somehow stumbles out of the water, shaken up but otherwise in perfect health.

She quits her job as a church organist, and sets her sights on a similar job in Utah.  Along the way, she becomes drawn to an abandoned pavilion, which served as a carnival several years ago.  She can’t get the place out of her head, nor can she shake a ghostly white figure that appears to her at random times, yet that no one else can see.  Did she trade her sanity for survival…or did she even survive at all?

The writing is surprisingly pretty solid for such a low-budget work.  There were several witty one-liners that got me laughing, and the interplay between Mary and John Linden, a neighbor who desperately wants to “court” her, gradually grew on me.  I also appreciate how writers Herk Harvey (who also directed) and John Clifford seem to go out of their way to create an indecipherable mess of a story, which makes for a lively topic of debate long after the movie has ended.

But its stark, black-and-white photography is what elevates this beyond most genre fare; this success rests on the shoulders of cinematographer Maurice Prather, who worked mainly on educational features prior to lensing Carnival of Souls.  Given his background, that makes the end result that much more fascinating; George A. Romero has gone on record saying the photography in this movie was a huge influence on Night of the Living Dead, another landmark horror film.

As for whether or not this movie is “scary”, I can only say what it did, or what it did not do, for me; I was never “scared”, at least in a traditional sense, though there were a couple scenes that filled me with an almost inexplicable creepiness, or a growing sense of dread.  Yet it seemed to cast a spell on me; I was thoroughly engaged through the whole thing.  Even when I had no idea what the hell was going on, I was still completely absorbed in its world--which walks the line between reality, and dreamscape—and I didn’t ever want to leave.  It’s been a long time since a movie has effected me in this way.

The biggest downside was the poor audio quality of the version I saw, which made it very hard to hear clearly.  The beginning also had some awful dubbing (the words didn’t even sync up with the moving mouth), but it seemed to get better as it went on, because I didn’t notice a problem again.  It might also have been with the version I saw, which was a public domain print on a very popular video website; I have no doubts that DVD versions would be much crisper.

RECAP: Carnival of Souls is fantastic, a rare example of a low-budget horror film that is not only unhindered due to its frugal financing, but thrives because of it.  The photography is exceptional, and plays a large part in creating a world that is part waking dream, part nightmare; it is nevertheless always engrossing.  It has also influenced countless filmmakers, including George Romero, for his own Night of the Living Dead, which was produced 6 years later.  An absolute must see for horror fans.

RATING: 9/10

TRAILER

White God (2015)

Director: Kornél Mundruczó
Writer(s): Mundruczó, Viktória Petrányi, and Kata Wéber
Starring: Zsófia Psotta, Sándor Zsótér, Lili Horváth, Bodie & Luke

There are people on one end of a spectrum that take their love of animals a little bit too far, revering them and valuing their lives moreso than those of most humans.  Usually, their argument is something along the lines of “Animals are pure and sweet and know nothing but love, while humans are vile, violent creatures.”  I would know this firsthand; I married a woman like this.  And yes, she is still my wife.  She stops in her tracks any time she sees a stray dog, and will only relax upon seeing that its owner is nearby, and she would be the person that would break the glass of a car to rescue an animal left out in extreme heat or cold (and she has come very close to doing this already).  Needless to say if it ever came down to a situation where she could only save my life, or our dog’s, I would be very, very nervous.

On the other end of the spectrum, you have people that admire their pets, but are of the mindset that they are nothing more than animals.  They love them and take care of them, maybe even treat them like part of the family, but they wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of them under the right circumstances; such as putting them down rather than paying for a costly procedure that only has a small percentage of succeeding.  I would snugly fit into this category.

As with many different viewpoints, oftentimes people from one side can’t see eye-to-eye on people with the other.  I can speak from experience that I get annoyed every time my wife drives by a stray dog, then has to turn back around to see where it’s going and who, if anyone, is watching after it (thankfully, these moments are rare, but they have happened).  Likewise, my wife can’t understand how in the world I see my dog as “just an animal”, which he is.  I love him, I’ll pet him, I’ll play with him, and I’ll even be sad when he’s gone, but it won’t pack the same emotional punch for me as if a human friend or relative died—my wife, on the other hand, will absolutely lose it when that day invariably comes.

I’m rambling on with a purpose, and that is to say that White God has not only shown me what it would be like to share my wife’s viewpoint; for two hours, it put me in her shoes.  I was seething at many of the film’s powerful, and all-too-realistic (altruistic?) scenes of animal cruelty.  I cheered when the animals finally got their revenge.  And, dare I say, by the end, I was so overwhelmed, with so many different, sometimes conflicting emotions, that I teared up.  To put that into perspective, I don’t ever tear up.

One of White God’s main strengths is in the simplicity of its story:  Girl has dog.  Girl gets sent to live with father for three months.  Father doesn’t like dog.  Father gets rid of dog.  Dog goes through hardships.  Girl looks for dog.  Dog looks for girl.  That basically summarizes the entire movie; but what no amount of words can possibly summarize, is the thrill you get from watching it.  This is an expertly-made Frankenmovie crafted out of wildly disparate parts: It’s part Milo and Otis, part human/animal drama, part coming-of-age film, and part revenge thriller.  That any of these things fit together at all is shocking; that they all somehow manage to combine to form a single, powerful narrative is nothing short of a minor miracle.

I won’t reveal too much of the story; this is one of those movies that can best be enjoyed the less you know going in.  There aren’t really any twists or turns that can be ruined—the whole movie actually plays out pretty much the way you know it’s going to play out, straight from the outset—but the “fun” of this movie is just putting it on, strapping yourself in, and letting it take you along for the ride.

That “ride” certainly is a bit overlong: clocking in at almost exactly two hours, there are certainly a few scenes that could have been excised without losing any of the film’s raw power.  Lili, the main girl (played by Zsofia Psotta), is also a little stiff, and doesn’t really show much range in her performance; this is a girl who is so attached to her dog that she refuses to leave its side (even taking it to band practice, at one point, because she has nowhere else to go), and yet the highest peak of her emotional performance is “mild irritation.”  It doesn’t feel very authentic, nor does it do much to suck you in to the human side of the story.

But ultimately that’s okay, because White God is all about the dogs.  All 250+ of them, gathering together to defy authority and exact revenge on all the humans that had done them wrong.  These sequences pack an even greater emotional punch when you realize that all of the dogs in the movie, are REAL (none computerized), and everything was shot live.  Even more astonishing?  All of the dogs used in the movie were rescue dogs who, previous to the movie, were never trained.  The trainers, lead by one Teresa Ann Miller, also deserve a lot of credit for their role in the movie, whipping the dogs (figuratively, of course), including Bodie and Luke, who took turns playing Hagen, into filming shape in just five short months. 

If you are an absolute animal lover (as my wife is), you will have a hard time getting through it (she refused to even try):  There are many scenes of rather graphic animal cruelty, and a large number of dogs die in the film.  However, these sequences are what help to make the ending so satisfying; without them, this movie wouldn’t pack half the emotional resonance that it does.  I love revenge films, but even the best of them have never affected me in this way—despite the fact I was sitting in my living room, completely alone, I cheered and hollered as the dogs picked off the objects of their suffering, one-by-one, typically in gory fashion.  It’s an unbelievable sequence, but after the carnage is over, it still manages to elicit tears with one of the best final scenes in recent memory.  As with just about any scene in any movie, it won’t work for some—I could see where some might find it incredibly cheesy—but I thought it was absolutely perfect, and I had chills running down my spine as the credits began to run.

RECAP: White God jumps between so many genres and subgenres you would think its failures are all but guaranteed; yet the expert direction (by Kornél Mundruczó), along with several powerful sequences, make this one of the best, and most unique, revenge thrillers of all time.  I found the acting (especially from Lili) to be a little underwhelming, and there are definitely several minutes that could have been excised without affecting the movie’s raw emotions, but overall, this is required viewing for all but the most emotional animal lover.  It’s certainly not an easy watch, but to merely say the payoff is “worth it” is the understatement of the century.  Highly recommended.

RATING: 9/10