An extended Twilight Zone episode

STIR OF ECHOES (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Kevin Bacon is another one of our most unsung actors in the movies whose talent is often unspoken of. This man has appeared in "J.F.K," "Sleepers," "A Few Good Men," and "Apollo 13." He has also had his footing in the sci-fi/horror genre in films like the original "Friday the 13th," "Flatliners" and "Tremors." It is nice to see him back in this genre with the fitfully exciting and alternately disturbing "Stir of Echoes."

Bacon plays Tom Witzky, a telephone service repairman with a faithful, pregnant wife (Kathryn Erbe) and a cute son (Zachary David Cope), who talks to himself in his bedroom and in the bathtub. But who is he talking to? Some unseen force or spirit, or is it the kids' imagination? Of course, a creepiness sets in when we see that he is talking to us, and we are the spirits.

One night, Tom goes to a neighborhood keg party and is hypnotized by his sister-in-law (the quixotically alive Illeana Douglas). Afterwards, he begins to get headaches, drinks orange juice by the gallon, and feels the need to dig in his backyard searching for something. Tom also sees visions of the ghost of a missing girl in the neighborhood, and every time he gets close to her, he feels cold and sees frost in the air (shades of "The Sixth Sense"). Everyone thinks he is going crazy except for his son who tells him not to be afraid.

"Stir of Echoes" is great, intriguing entertainment for the first hour. Tom's visions begin to get more bizarre and violent, and he also foresees the future. We also see how this affects his wife, their sex life, and his son who seems to embody other spirits (he is possessed briefly at one point). Unfortunately, as written by Richard Matheson (based on his 1958 novel) and David Koepp, the movie gradually stirs itself into a narrow corner. Too many plot threads are left hanging and we are left with a movie about the spectre of a dead girl who affects an entire neighborhood. Once the film examines the mystery of this girl, "Stir of Echoes" never truly builds on the psychological layers of Tom's character to see how this might affect him. There is nothing here to suggest the implicit ironies of "The Sixth Sense" or Roman Polanski's masterpiece, "The Tenant." And the anticlimactic, mediocre ending lends little in the film's favor.

There is still a lot to savor in "Stir of Echoes." Kevin Bacon projects anxiety and fear in a nicely balanced performance - his cocky, tense behavior is well-modulated but he could have done so much more with an in-depth script. Illeana Douglas is a sprightly wonder and brings the film alive with her charisma. A real shame that she is so underused considering she unleashes the can of visions to Tom in the first place. I also enjoyed Kevin Dunn's brief role as Tom's sexually lustful friend.

There are some surprises but not enough to overcome the fact that "Stir of Echoes" is nothing more than an extended "Twilight Zone" episode. It had more potential than that, if only writers Matheson and director David Koepp stirred all the elements to come up with a fruitier mix.

An atheistic stigmatic

STIGMATA (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally written in 1999)

It is a pleasure to see the horror genre back again with a keen interest in the supernatural, eschewing any of the tired slasher routines since "Scream's" wake. It is less pleasurable to see that filmmakers can become so misguided as to make complete drivel like "Stigmata," a poorly conceived, beautifully shot yet pointless rip-off of "The Exorcist."

Patricia Arquette stars as Frankie Paige, a Pittsburgh hairdresser who frequents clubs with her pals (she also has an unseen boyfriend who no doubt finds her as irritating as I did). One day, she receives a rosary from her mother in the mail, and suddenly finds thick nail wounds on her wrists while taking a bath. Frankie goes to the emergency room but feels no pain, and the doctors unbelievably feel the wounds were self-inflicted. Oh, please. I don't think anyone would have the strength to drive thick nails through their wrists. Nevertheless, Frankie seems undaunted by all this and still goes club-hopping. Unfortunately, her customers want someone else to cut their hair (understandable, I mean, would you want someone with bandages around their wrists to cut your hair?) Frankie starts to see visions, such as a woman dropping a baby on a street corner. She also suffers more wounds, like being relentlessly whipped in a out-of-control subway car.

The truth is that she is afflicted with stigmata, the supposed wounds that Christ suffered during the crucifixion. So, yes, there are the whippings, thorns penetrating her skull, nails driven through her wrists and feet, and so on. But nothing seems to faze Frankie, she just becomes annoyed that such an affliction would get in the way of her nightlife and sex life. Another truth glossed over is that stigmatics are usually Catholic but in Frankie's case, she is atheist. But this rosary apparently came from a Brazilian priest who passed the stigmata to the next available customer (Question: how come Frankie's mother did not get it first?)

The Vatican (almost all of its members photographed in deep shadows) discovers this particular stigmatic and decide to employ Father Andrew Kiernan (Gabriel Byrne), a scientist who determines the veracity of miracles around the world, to investigate this woman and see if she is indeed a spiritual manifestation of the Holy Ghost. Kiernan finds that she is, but he is also a man grappling with his own faith (read Jason Miller's Father Karras in "Exorcist"). I was curious about a scene where he almost decides not to pursue the case once Frankie admits to being atheist. Of course, why any of these spiritual happenings would affect an atheist is a question never posed by anyone in the entire movie. Instead, we get intimate scenes between the girl and the priest, some moments of brief possession, and a laughable fiery exorcism sequence that lifts whole sections of dialogue from "The Exorcist." What any of this has to with stigmata is beyond me.

"Stigmata" has ambitions to be either a spiritually cleansing exercise or a psychological portrait of a self-destructive young woman grappling with her spiritual beliefs. Instead, director Rupert Wainwright depicts Frankie's life-changing event as if it were an inconvenience. Also, we get alot of talk about how deeply painful it is to be stigmatic because there are so many repercussions from different spirits, both good and evil. But Frankie is an unchanged woman from beginning to end - a cipher with no inner life. She never seems affected or truly afflicted, despite the numerous special-effects and mili-second cuts of drops of water and horrid images of bleeding wounds. Those are all devices constructed as if we were watching an MTV film with music by Nine Inch Nails, and they detract from the character and the story.

"Stigmata" has caused a haelstorm of controversy because it is seemingly anti-Catholic. As written by Tom Lazarus and Rick Ramage, the film is not good enough to provoke any such argument. The only committed heresy is how much of it is borrowed from "The Exorcist."

Quickens the heart and draws blood

MARY SHELLEY'S FRANKENSTEIN (1994)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

All due respect to Boris Karloff's iconic creation of the Monster with electric bolts and square head, Robert De Niro's incarnation of the Creature looks like something assembled out of human body parts that are sewn together. Complete with stitches, sores, huge hands and a limp, this monster is determined to make life a living hell for his creator, Victor Frankenstein (Kenneth Branagh).

At the start of "Frankenstein," the mad doctor is seen in the icy landscape of the Arctic chased by the Creature. Frankenstein is finally able to get away long enough to tell his story to a determined explorer (Aidan Quinn) of where this creature came from. We all know the story of Frankenstein as he slowly grows insane, desperately trying to create life out of dead human tissue. The climactic, over-the-top sequence begins exactly as one would expect. In his subterranean lab, Dr. Frankenstein makes several attempts to bring life to an executed beggar (who has Frankenstein's mentor's brain) with thousands of volts of electricity tapped into a huge water tank. The Creature breaks out of the tank, escapes and finds refuge at a barn where a blind hermit lives with his family. The Creature learns to communicate and read, and then it discovers rather quickly that the good doctor has created him and made him into an ugly being. Meanwhile, Frankenstein has fallen in love with his adopted sister, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter). Their mutual attraction is interrupted by tragedy and death in the wake of the Creature.

"Mary Shelley's Frankenstein" moves at a fast clip but it is hampered by Kenneth Branagh's portrayal of the doctor - at first, he seems like a young, mad and immoral scientist but after his creation walks away, the vigor and excitement drains away as if Branagh did not know where to go with the character. Of course that could be intentional but it appears as if he is sleepwalking. Sad to say that the wonderful Helena Bonham Carter ("Howard's End") brings zilch to the role of Elizabeth, probably due to being severely underwritten. She is mostly reduced to myriad romps in the hay with bare-chested Branagh.

The heart and soul of "Frankenstein" can be found in De Niro, who brings pathos, sadness and terror to the Creature that touches base with Mary Shelley's novel more so than most other versions. With several ugly stitches, scars, two different eyes and a bald head, he comes across as a tragic figure who could literally break your heart.

Spectacular production design, fine special-effects and a rapid pace enliven "Frankenstein," but sometimes Branagh does not know when to quit. Too many circling camera pans and hyperbolic, overly theatrical performances and sequences (including a Caesarean birth) are overstating - they would make Ken Russell jealous. As terrific as De Niro is, the last few scenes feel like a revisiting of his Max Cady psycho from "Cape Fear." On the whole, it is as if Branagh was trying to outdo the operatic flourishes of Coppola's version of "Dracula" (Coppola incidentally produced this one as well). "Frankenstein" has style to spare, but it needed to be dramatically dialed down.

Faux fright cliches

THE HAUNTING (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally viewed in 1999)

While watching this remake of "The Haunting," I began to wonder how this film would fare if it was not a remake, but just another haunted house story. In other words, what if this was the first film adaptation of Shirley Jackson's 1959 novel, forgetting that the 1963 Robert Wise classic ever existed?

Let's look at the particulars. Independent film queen Lili Taylor is Ellen, the morose, mousy woman invited to Hill House where a special insomnia study is being conducted by a doctor (Liam Neeson). The other guests, or subjects, are the blonde surfer dude Luke (Owen Wilson - who looks like a surfer dude even if he isn't one) and the sexual cat, Theo (Catherine Zeta-Jones), a bisexual who comforts Ellen and is thus teased by Luke. Oh, and did I notice the quick departure of Todd Fields as another subject? I suppose, I did. Maybe he was called in for some reshoots in Kubrick's "Eyes Wide Shut."

I am sorry but this film hints at disaster from the get-go, and if this had been the first adaptation, it would have surely spelled doom for future fright fests. The fact is that "The Haunting" is directed by Jan De Bont, who helmed the exciting "Speed" and "Speed 2," the latter of which I have avoided. To be fair, the first hour of "The Haunting" captures a sense of spookiness and quiet calm that made the original so memorable. I mean, there are actually no special-effects! The characters are somewhat interesting if buffoonish and detached. Zeta-Jones makes a sparkling entrance as she proclaims with a luscious, breathless voice upon entering Hill House: "Don't you just love it here? You don't get this from a Martha Stewart catalog." Neeson shows a little gleam, and shows interest in Taylor's Ellen who has her own demons to confront. Wilson has a few one-liners to offset the creepy dimensions of the inevitable haunting. Dare I say, this movie was starting to look like a classic ghost story. But then...all hell is unleashed.

De Bont unleashes one special-effects gimmick after another, never alluding to or insinuating the mysterious forces within the house. Instead, he shows us everything and anything. The final half-hour is especially laughable as the main demonic spirit crashes the house in a digital FX blowout of collapsing frames, cracked windows, contorted beds, split floorboards - it is all so outrageously banal that it makes the locust finale of "Exorcist II" look frightful by comparison.

Since De Bont shows us only gaping actors staring at FX galore, we never feel as if this house is truly haunted - it feels like William Castle put on an expensive light show at Universal Studios. Sure, the art decoration and set design of the house is spectacular but hardly suggests that lurking shadows or ghosts inhabit it. And with scarce insight into any of the characters, "The Haunting" becomes an interminable void of faux fright cliches.

MISS ME?

THE CONJURING (2013)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"The Conjuring" is a grandly virtuoso haunted house piece - an elegant, supremely scary picture designed to keep your stomach knotted, your hair standing on end, and your palms sweaty. I will not say this is the scariest film I've ever seen but it is, hands down, among the scariest in a long, long, really long time. Almost too long.

It is 1971. We have a house in Harrisville, R.I. where a new family has moved in, the Perrons. Roger (Ron Livingston from the cult hit "Office Space"), a mild-mannered type of guy, is married to Carolyn Perron (Lili Taylor) and they have five young daughters. Apparently this house, unbeknownst to the Perrons, was the site of a woman accused of witchcraft during the time of the Salem Witch Trials who hung herself on a tree branch outside the house proclaiming to be one of Satan's disciples. There is more here that chills the bone involving multiple suicides and satanic rituals where babies are sacrificed. The Perrons get a taste of these ghosts who haunt their home. Doors are slammed, loud knocks are heard, something pulls the legs of the girls while they sleep, and there is that hide-and-seek game the girls play where they clap when they are in their hiding place while one blindfolded girl has to find them. Would a ghost partake in this game? There is also a doll named Annabelle but I rather you discover its importance on your own.

Eventually, two real-life Demonologists,  Ed and Lorraine Warren (strikingly played with complete assurance by Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga), are summoned to the house to rid its evil spirits (The Warrens, by the way, were best known for their involvement in the Amityville haunting). Still flash cameras and microphones are installed to capture the spirits' essence (do not worry: this is all far more compelling than TV's "Ghost Hunters" and its infinite imitations). These spirits mean business, however, and somehow attract birds to fly into the exteriors of the house and kill themselves. Then there is the issue of the clocks stopping at 3:08 am! More doors fling open and the creepy factor settles in - director James Wan makes good use of dark basements and dark crawlspaces. Oh, never look under the bed either. Plus, maybe unexplained bruises are the lack of iron in the body, or something else. As Lorraine Warren states, "Most haunted houses have a simple, rational explanation." Not this house.

"The Conjuring" is a fast-paced haunted house story that gave me goosebumps and, at the end of the cinematic horror day, that is all that counts. It does it with zero gore and tunes up its thrills and chills to 120, all courtesy of director James Wan who previously helmed 'Insidious" and the original "Saw." Yet the movie does break for an unnecessary finale that smacks of "The Exorcist" and, frankly, I would have preferred a more imaginative conclusion. Still, with an expert cast and an expert director at crafting genuine suspense (and a superb use of sound by sound designer Joe Dzuban), "The Conjuring" will bring up good old-fashioned memories of "The Haunting." Not the 1999 remake, mind you, but rather the 1963 classic. Oh, FYI, Lili Taylor, you have redeemed yourself from the crass "The Haunting" remake you appeared in. Many thanks.

Three Diamonds in the rough

THE SCORE (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original review from 2001)

Heist dramas are fashionable again. David Mamet has his own upcoming drama aptly titled "Heist." Ben Kingsley's riveting performance in the film "Sexy Beast" also involves a heist. Now, director Frank Oz ("Bowfinger") and three major stars, Robert De Niro, Edward Norton and Marlon Brando, combine their strengths to create their own caper flick. "The Score" is a more thrilling caper picture than a character study, depending more on specifics related to the heist than with character. Still, it is as relaxing and comforting a film as you are likely to see in a mindless, mind-bogglingly dumb summer.

De Niro stars as Nick, a Montreal jazz club owner who masquerades as an efficient burglar. Nick is one of the best in the business, usually performing jobs for others in places outside of what he refers to as his own backyard. He has a stunning girlfriend (Angela Bassett), an airline stewardess, who visits him infrequently ("I'll see yah when I see yah.") Everything is in place for Nick but he looks like he is ready to quit too. That is until a shady, Sydney Greenstreet character named Max (Marlon Brando), an old friend of Nick's, offers Nick one big job in their own backyard. It turns out that the Montreal Customs House has a rare 17th century French scepter in the basement, its value higher than Brando's last paycheck. The scepter is so valuable that it is placed under strict surveillance, namely video cameras and an invisible laser display. There is also a little snag and an inconvenience for Nick: Max has hired a cocky, seemingly sociopathic thief named Jackie Teller (Edward Norton) to help infiltrate the Customs House. It turns out Jackie works at the Customs House as a janitor named Brian, mimicking and fooling the employees into believing he is mentally challenged. He is in place already, it only takes Nick to perform the actual heist with Jackie's help.

Needless to say, "The Score" fits the description of any heist thriller since the days of the Production Code. How many heist thrillers have had the same basic premise? How many have dealt with a character like Nick who sees this score as his last job, for good and ever? How many involve a virtually silent climax where the thief performs his sweat-inducing work amidst false alarms? The difference is in all the details, and there are enough to entertain and jolt audiences out of their seats.

De Niro is one of my favorite actors, ranging from explosive portrayals of sinful men in "Taxi Driver" and "Raging Bull" to comedic highlights of minimalistic strength in "Wag the Dog" and "Meet the Parents." Lately, he has been saddled with mediocre fare such as "Fifteen Minutes" but what can you say about a man of his stature to keep himself from repeating past roles? Well, Nick is not unlike the ice-cold killer thief De Niro played in "Heat." This time, though, De Niro brings a world-weary sense to the role and one can't help but feel that Nick enjoys his job as well - he is in command and refuses to take orders except from his boss.

Edward Norton continues to impress me. Here he seems like an extension of the duality he prominently displayed in "Primal Fear" and "The Fight Club." It is a frightening performance in the sense that his character Jackie seems explosive yet reserved at the same time, willing to listen to Nick yet just as ready to rebel from the old-timers. His cockiness and energy are, in effect, part of his own undoing. How can Jackie feel superior to thieves who have far more experience than he ever will?

Marlon Brando is a whole other matter. Brando seems intent on doing riffs of Sydney Greenstreet and the resemblance is amazing not to mention intentional. But there is that glee and weariness he brings that fills the screen with delight. His scene with De Niro is wonderful to watch, but not quite as potent as say the unique pairing of De Niro and Pacino in "Heat." Still, watching Brando mingle with De Niro and Norton is a pleasure to behold. And Brando's scene at an empty pool where he confesses to De Niro the truth behind the heist is exquisite.

Director Frank Oz is a strange choice for this kind of material since his background is in the comedy genre and, of course, the Muppets. Still, he proves to be a master of tension and suspense in some notable scenes, particularly the heist itself which is among the most electrifying since "Topkapi." It is so good that my palms were sweaty while watching it. It is on par with the climactic underwater heist in "Sexy Beast."

Oz's work with these acting giants also proves to be superlative (Despite rumors to the contrary, Brando seems effortless on screen thanks to Oz, even if he didn't want to be directed by Miss Piggy). One misguided exception in the casting is the underwritten role of Angela Bassett as Nick's girlfriend - a character that exists merely as a reason for Nick to quit. Only Bassett is too strong a presence for such a throwaway role - either eliminate the role or hire Halle Berry, for goodness sakes'! There is strong evidence that Bassett's role had been severely cut which is a shame since it would have shed some light on Nick's priorities in life.

"The Score" is as pleasant and diverting a surprise as one can expect. It is absolutely nothing new but the acting, script and the heist climax makes it more than worthwile. It is not as character-driven as "Sexy Beast" or Michael Mann's powerful "Thief," nor as wire-tight as Kubrick's fast-paced "The Killing." Nevertheless, it is still watchable, tense and sweat-inducing as any good heist thriller should be. Unless you believe that all films should have digitally created characters, nothing beats a score like three diamonds in the rough - De Niro, Brando and Norton.

Leatherface on sensory overload

THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE (2003)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Sequelizing the original fright classic "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" might have seemed fruitless, but remaking it is cruel and unusual punishment. You only need to think back to 1998 to recall such a glaring error in filmmaking standards - Gus Van Sant's recreation of Hitchcock's "Psycho." "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" is Michael Bay and company's dreadful, spiritless remake of a film that has since been deemed the ultimate experience in terror (sorry "Evil Dead" fans).

The movie is set in the early 70's as we witness a van carrying young people on their way to a Skynyrd concert - they listen to Skynyrd's own "Sweet Home Alabama" on the radio so we don't forget what time period it is. A woman is walking on the road, having just survived some ordeal. The compassionate women in the van (including Jessica Biel) pick her up. This scared, comatose passenger suddenly picks up a gun from under her dress and shoots herself in the head. Why? Because she couldn't take it anymore? She suffered too much? No. Because music video director Marcus Nispel and producer Michael Bay want to provide a sensory overload of pumped-up images and music so that the audience never grows restless. The rest of the story focuses a great deal of time on these young, heartless people and their decision on what to do with the corpse and the bloody brains in the backseat of their van (accent on the brain matter). I might believe young people would act in such a way today, but in the 1970's? To be fair, the women are more caring than the men who just want to go to the concert. They do the right thing and call the sheriff (R. Lee Ermey), who proves to be as creepy as the family of savages that live nearby. But never fear my young horror enthusiasts, Leatherface and his buzzing saw are near.

Despite using the cinematographer of the original film, Daniel Pearl, nothing in this "Massacre" is likely to scare you or thrill you. The movie has lots of screaming and running and jumping and some loud chainsaw sounds, nicely amplified by the DTS soundtrack. What is missing is whatever soul the original film had - there was a sense of growing dread cultivated by our hopes that the young victims would walk away from inevitable death. The original "Massacre" was new for showing what depths humanity had sunk to when you would find a house with human bones, skin masks and meathooks. If nothing else, it was a documentary of horror, a living nightmare one couldn't wake up from. Oh, and they were cannibals but this movie barely considers that for a moment - the family in this retro, souped-up version is simply nuts.

"Texas Chainsaw Massacre" is, as correctly mentioned by Roger Ebert, a geek show where frigid close-ups of slimy, bloody fluids and hand-held camera footage of people running suggest hysteria, not fear. These young people seem to have ample opportunities to run away from these crazy folks, thus the urgency is missing. There is mostly sadism for the sake of having sadism (and maybe someone can explain Biel killing a guy who keeps sliding into the same meat hook he is hanging from. I know the guy is suffering and asks to be put out of his misery, but did she need to use a big knife and thrust it into his gut?) The buzz in this new "Massacre" may be loud but the thrill is gone, folks.