Media makes monsters

NO SUCH THING (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I have only seen two Hal Hartley films, "The Unbelievable Truth" and "Henry Fool." Both are existential dramas, mostly dealing with pain and repressed emotions. The main thrust in those films was the existence of the individual, and the individual's recognition of his or her own futile existence. "No Such Thing" now focuses on the existential nature of a monster, not a human being. A radical idea indeed, and I am not sure it is a major success at all but, at the very least, it gives it a whirl.

Beatrice (Sarah Polley) is the assistant to the "Boss" (Helen Mirren), the chain-smoking producer of a trashy, tabloid TV show. The latest news are the problems in New York City, including terrorist organizations infiltrating subway systems and bridges (this film was released last March though it was initially set to be released in the fall of 2001. In these troubled times, the terrorism angle is sure to be a reason). The Boss is sick of the latest news and wants something catastrophic and unusual - something to send shock waves across the country. Lo and behold, one of their TV news crews had disappeared somewhere off the coast of Iceland. One of the crew members was Beatrice's fiance. Beatrice decides to follow the story and find out what happened to her fiance and everyone else. A jet plane carrying Beatrice crashes though, and she miraculously survives. She then has to face a spinal operation and intense physical therapy for six months. Beatrice recuperates and proceeds to go to Iceland. She finds that a horned, fire-breathing monster (Robert Burke) has killed the crew. This monster is isolated, immortal, a drunk and obscene. Beatrice knows he will not hurt her, and he trusts her enough to accompany her to find a reclusive doctor named Dr. Artaud, the only known man who can kill the monster. Make no mistake, the monster wishes to be killed so he can end his suffering.

After reading this far, you might be saying, "How ridiculous!" Of course it is but Hartley never aims for satire or for laughs. He has not crafted a horror film either. This is more of an expose of how the media turns freaks into fodder for the masses - oh, the exploitation! The horror! But it is also a love story of sorts between the beauty and the beast, and how the beauty manages to forget the beast while he's being exploited. It is also how a monster views himself in an existential world where pain and suffering will go on and on. He can't stop himself from killing people, but he does make a promise to Beatrice not to kill after leaving his island for America. But I can't say that all of "No Such Thing" is really that coherent. It is a mess, straining and working to be one kind of film before changing and shaping itself to be something else.

The first thirty minutes of "No Such Thing" are as beautiful and mysterious as most films can be. We follow Beatrice on her journey to Iceland, and Polley makes her character strong and compassionate. I even liked the scenes of her and the monster. However, when the film shifts its setting to America, it becomes a self-conscious jumble of how the media is morally corrupt. How often have we seen this cliche played over and over again? How cardboard can Helen Mirren and any of the stock news characters get? Why even bring the monster to America? Why not let the story stay in the Iceland setting since, in such a remote land, anything can happen? Why is the monster such an obnoxious, indefensible creature with no apparent remorse for anyone or anything? If he had existed since the dawn of man, would four-letters be the extent of his language and understanding?

"No Such Thing" could have been so much more, but the last half of the film fails mainly because it forgoes its initial ideas for mediocre ones. Burke's monster can be repetitious, as is Mirren's shtick, but Polley shines brightly in her role. Her best scenes are the quiet ones, such as the moments prior to her operation or when she gets drunk with other Icelanders. I also liked a priceless scene where she practically gets mugged by a heroin chick in New York (though I am not quite sure of the significance of that scene). But Beatrice's shift from compassionate to merely hogging the media spotlight when bringing the monster to America is curiously unsatisfying and inconsistent. I can't say that I recommend "No Such Thing" because it does fall apart and never recovers. But I will say that Hartley's failure is infinitely more satisfying than failures from hack directors. At least he has something to say.

Welcome to New Jersey's Short Cuts

HAPPINESS (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Best film of 1998)

(Original review from 1998)

"Happiness" is one of the richest, darkly complex, and ironically funniest portraits of American life since "Short Cuts." It is tinged with irony, deadpan humor, and some severely unpleasant subject matter, though always treated in a respectful, artful manner by a promising writer-director, Todd Solondz. Solondz previously directed "Welcome to the Dollhouse," a provocative statement about growing up in Jersey, but who would have thought he would helm a multi-layered, disturbing portrait of Jersey like this one.

The film begins with a date at a restaurant. The curly-haired brunette Joy (Jane Adams) is sitting at a table with a man (John Lovitz) whom she has just dumped. He questions her, trying to discover why the relationship is over. He shows her an engraved ashtray, and tells her it's for the person who will love him for who he is.

Afterwards, we meet the orange-haired Allen (the great Philip Seymour Hoffman), a guy who masturbates on the phone while arbitrarily picking names off the phone book and asking the women what they are wearing. Not only does he stalk people on the phone at home, but also at his office where he works. When he confesses his explicit sexual fantasies to a therapist, Bill (Dylan Baker), we recognize boredom is settling on the therapist's face. We hear his thoughts in voice-over. We see a strange dream where Bill kills everyone in a playground with a machine gun. Then he masturbates while looking at teen magazines, and we realize his true nature: he's a pedophile.

Then we are introduced to Joy's sisters, which include Trish (Cynthia Stevenson), a bland, perfect housewife unaware of her husband's (Bill's) clandestine sexual nature, and Helen (Lara Flynn Boyle), a poet who writes about rapes and finds that New Jersey is the ideal place to live to prove you're not a showy writer. There is also Joy's unhappy parents, Lenny (Ben Gazzara) and Mona (Louise Lasser, a long way from "Bananas"). Lenny wants out of the marriage so he can live his life, yet Mona understandably thinks that it is because of her and that she's too fat and needs a facelift. When Mona asks for advice from a real-estate dealer (amusingly played by Marla Maples) about her marriage, the dealer responds: "Divorce is the best thing that ever happened to me."

Joy needs and wants love desperately, but doesn't know what love is. Her sisters berate her about their perfect, exciting lives yet she feels cast out of the family. When not being sexually harassed on the phone (by Allen), she confides in a thick-accented Russian taxi driver (Jared Harris), who has sex with her and patiently listens to one of her guitar-playing songs. Of course, he turns out to be a thief who is married!

Everyone in "Happiness" has difficulty adapting to their lifestyles, and they are all inadequate about their loved ones. Interestingly, they all feel a brink of happiness when they are alone. Allen lives by himself in a bland apartment and is giddy when making anonymous calls; Joy feels better when playing the guitar to herself; Lenny can't bring himself to have an affair and chooses to be left alone; and Bill wants to be left alone with his son's male friends by drugging everyone with sleeping pills. Only a secondary character named Kristina (Camryn Manheim), Allen's neighbor, needs solace when she admits her own secrets to Allen.

"Happiness" is an exemplary combination of flawless writing, directing and acting. It is shrewdly written by Solondz, and he never makes it easy for the audience when he wavers between drama and comedy with unusual results. At times, you don't know whether to laugh, cringe or both. The most obvious example is when Bill admits his secret sexual desires to his son - it is so painful to watch that we are not sure how to respond to it. This is true of Kristina's secret, which causes one to laugh because it is so unexpected.

The performances are so adeptly attuned to the material that you can't separate one actor from the other - they fit the roles perfectly. One lasting impression is left by character actor Dylan Baker (who should be remembered at Oscar time) as the disturbed pedophile. His face is so haunting and etched with so much pain that he becomes unforgettable - he also brings a sense of humanity to Bill that makes it harder to judge him as a person. He tries, in one scene, to tell his wife that he is sick, yet he can't help his nature.

Solondz has not crafted an exploitative fantasy where the freaks are on display for everyone to identify - a modern-day Jerry Springer-like movie where the audience can boo the loveless characters off the screen. Instead, he addresses these characters as normal, everyday people facing their own crisis, their own lack of understanding, and their own inability to love. He looks at everyone with a sympathetic eye, including the pedophile, and cuts deeply into our consciousness about our human needs.

Bad Lycan Seed

GINGER SNAPS 2: UNLEASHED (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Ginger Snaps: Unleashed" is one of the scarier horror sequels since the "Nightmare on Elm Street" series. The difference from most slasher cum horror series is this sequel actually builds on one of the main characters it established in the first film, bringing the tension to a grisly finish that will leave you in stitches.

In the original "Ginger Snaps," Brigette (Emily Perkins) was the dour high-school girl, the loner who wanted to save her sister, Ginger (Katharine Isabelle), from reaching maximum lycanthropic heights. Since Ginger died at Brigette's hands, Brigette is now infected, slowly but surely she will become a werewolf. She cuts herself daily, to see if she heals any faster with the antidote she concocted - a bluish, purplish liquid, basically wolfsbane, that she injects into her arms, legs, wherever. The problem is that she is building an immunity to the stuff. There is also a werewolf after her, for reasons never made clear, and somehow Brigette finds herself in a psychiatric facility for girls. She also has to contend with Ghost (Tatiana Maslany), a young, wise blonde girl who runs around the facility and often takes care of her grandmother who nearly got roasted in a fire. Question: if this is a psych ward for girls with mental and other problems, what is a burn victim doing there? Anyways, Ghost learns of Brigette's problems and they become pals - Brigette's main concern is to escape the facility since she is in danger from the monstrous werewolf.

"Ginger Snaps: Unleashed" has several moments of frightful surprises, and the tension is unbridled throughout. Director Brett Sullivan unleashes quite a few scares from the start and the gory flash frames, used sparingly, the tremendously foggy, snowy landspaces, the dank art direction (the psych ward and Ghost's booby-trapped house are especially creepy) add enormously to the film's atmosphere.

What really lends support is Emily Perkins' performance as Brigette, a girl suffering inside and out from her curse. She does not give in to her sexual impulses, thanks to her sister Ginger who appears occasionally as a ghost to tempt her. Brigette knows it is a hopeless situation, but she accepts her eventual, full scale transformation. Also worth noting is Tatiana Maslany as Ghost, a devious yet seemingly innocent girl - her last scene will give you major goosebumps.

"Ginger Snaps: Unleashed" is frighteningly good, occasionally gory fun (and its psych ward is far more interesting than the one in "Girl, Interrupted") but it does have a few loopholes (who is that werewolf really?) Still, for a genre that used to be rooted in slasher routines, this sequel ups the ante on devilish surprises, piquantly written, and leaves the werewolf to the imagination (only seen in quick close-ups). Is it as good as the first cult horror film? No, but it comes darn close. What gives the film an extra ounce of demonic pleasure is the performances by Perkins and Maslany. At least one of them gives new definition to the term: bad seed.

Crop circles restrain Mel Gibson

SIGNS (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed on Sept. 22nd, 2002)

There are definite signs that M. Night Shyamalan is destined to be the next Spielberg. Or the next Hitchcock. Or whatever. I am still waiting. After the phenomenal success of "The Sixth Sense" and the solemnity of "Unbreakable," Shyamalan was left wondering what to do next. He crossed over into a story involving aliens and that leaves us with "Signs," an artfully made thriller with echoes of faith written all over it, yet completely lacking any real emotional conviction. If only the lead character was not such a zombie.

Mel Gibson plays former Father Graham Hess, a widower with two children to raise, a younger brother, Merrill (Joaquin Phoenix), and a farm full of corn stalks. He is a former Reverend who questioned his faith after his wife died in a tragic car accident. Merrill has moved in to help him cope. Graham has two children, Morgan (Rory Culkin), and Bo (Abigain Breslin), who have their own eccentricities. Morgan becomes immersed in extraterrestrial books. Bo leaves half-empty glasses of water all over the house for fear of contaminants. Merrill stays glued to the television hidden in a closet, awaiting further updates of aliens hovering all over the planet. All this after crop circles have materialized from Bucks County, Pennsylvania to India. These very same crop circles have materialized in Graham's own farm land (which is set in Bucks County). Are there really aliens occupying Earth or is it an elaborate hoax?

The signs are there, and this is where the movie really works. The Hess's dog tries to attack Bo and is killed by Morgan. There are the glasses of water. Strange language patterns are heard in a baby monitor. Graham hears noises in his farm land, and sometimes hears and sees someone leaping all over their property. A Brazilian video birthday party shows a green man waltzing by (a nod, no doubt, to the famous Bigfoot footage from the 1970's). And, of course, there are those crop circles. Is the world going to end? Are these aliens friendly or hostile? Will Graham restore his faith in God by believing that these aliens are a godsend?

After a tight, fright-filled forty minutes, I began to suspect that Shyamalan was going to hit us with something profound or give us some kind of epiphany involving these aliens and the Hess family. Sadly, nothing ever comes out of the initial premise. I was hoping for a more studied look at hoaxes versus reality and how they affect a family willing to believe in the impossible. Shyamalan holds back and just focuses on the family members. That is all fine and dandy, but there is no real presence in the leading character played by Gibson. Graham is shown to be emotionless and faithless. Gibson plays him with such solemnity and restraint that there is nothing left to look at except at a robot. Thankfully, Gibson has no over-the-top shouting matches in the movie but there is not much else either. It is one thing for a character to be humorless and devoid of personality, but an actor like Gibson, who can be humorous and full of life, makes Graham about as interesting as a refrigerator.

Only the kids come forth with any hint of vibrancy. Rory Culkin shows more range than his older, famous brother, and Breslin has that childlike innocence that always works. I also enjoyed Joaquin Phoenix as the less-than-straight-arrow brother, but even he seems to have toned down his performance. Excepting the kids, it is like watching a movie with zombies instead of real people (one of the flaws that plagued Shyamalan's "Unbreakable"). The climax is shoddy at best and a letdown. M. Night Shyamalan still has talent to spare in his choice of framing shots and building suspense with ease, but empathetic characters are still needed to make the suspense work. The buildup is all there for a gripping, compelling film. All we get is the buildup that leads to numerous signs and little else.

Those Who Do Not Speak of the Twist

THE VILLAGE (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2004)

M. Night Shyamalan has been known as the new prince of suspense and horror in movies. He's also been crowned as the new Spielberg, an achievement that is still unclear to me. Prior to Shyamalan's "The Sixth Sense" hit, he directed two largely unknown films, one of them was "Wide Awake." After "The Sixth Sense" came the solemn "Unbreakable" and the even more deadening "Signs." Okay, so now you know I am not a big fan of the Nightman, but where is the Spielbergian comparison? Shyamalan is more geared towards suspense and atmosphere that lead to the inevitable twist ending. Spielberg makes films that are awesome in scale and sentiment, but typically he does not lend his hand to horror or suspense. So now comes the Nightman's newest suspense shocker, "The Village," a film that has already driven Internet movie fanatics wild with its ending, something which M. Night fans knew the outcome to prior to the showing of the first trailer! My, my, my, how I crave the days when nobody expected to be shocked by the double twist finale of 1955's "Diabolique," a film that ends with a warning to kids to keep mum about its secret ending. And so here comes "The Village" and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised. The twist was a surprise to me, but the movie is a humanistic, scary ride into one of my favorite locations for any horror film, the forest.

Set in the 1890's, the film takes place in a village that has its own community of elders, teenagers and children. The village is Covington, Pennsylvania, presided by its patriarch, Edward Walker (William Hurt), a professor. Walker has two daughters, the shrill Kitty (Judy Greer, always great at being shrill) who is eager to get married, and the blind Ivy (Bryce Dallas Howard) who can see people's aura in the form of a color. There is also Lucius Hunt (Joaquim Phoenix), his widowed mother, Alice (Sigourney Weaver), and the village idiot (Adrien Brody). There is also a triangular romance, dances by candlelight, young women happily sweeping leaves off of their balconies, men worrying about wrinkling their shirts, and so on.

This village is unique in its spaciousness despite being so closed-in. The reason is that the woods surrounding the village are filled with creatures in red cloaks, also known as Those We Do Not Speak Of. There has always been an understanding between the creatures and the village people, to keep a barrier barring either party from entering each other's space. Also, the color red is forbidden since it will entice TWDNSO (which begs the question, if there is a mutual understanding between them, why would the creatures know if anyone is wearing red or keeping a red flower)? Unfortunately, something wicked has come to the town. Livestock and animals have been skinned alive and left for dead. Is it the creatures? Resourceful Lucius Hunt wants to find out and cross into the woods, but he needs permission from the elders. But there is something else beyond all that foliage. A road to an unnamed town exists where Lucius could bring back medicine (despite the fact that the village has a doctor). Since there is no medicine, children and elders sometimes die, no doubt due to sickness. Was every late 19th century village like this?

"The Village" has more up its sleeve. Think I will tell you more? Nope, no way. This is a relatively SPOILER-FREE review. Sorry Nightfans, but I cannot dispense much more info. Suffice to say, if you have seen the Nightman's other films, you can expect a few surprises here and there. Of course, something happens at the end that...well, can't say it or divulge it.

What starts out as an atmospheric horror film, using such handy devices like fog over an indecipherable horizon, close-ups of silhouetted tree branches and so on, radically becomes a different kind of film. Let's say that the...my, not sure I can say that either. I am not a paid film critic nor was I told by any studio to keep a secret, but it would be unethical of me to say much more. I can say that the performances deliver on cue, including Adrien Brody as the unrestrained village idiot who is always laughing at those damn creatures making weird sounds in the forest. William Hurt is always a marvel to behold, delivering his usual slow tempo of speech - you're always eager to hear what he has to say next. The brightest spot in the film is Bryce Dallas Howard (Ron Howard's daughter) as the truly resourceful heroine of the film, though I can't reveal more than that. Joaquim Phoenix is a disappointment, if only because he plays a far too stolid character. Sigourney Weaver is not much better, looking a little bored due to a severely underwritten part. By contrast, Cherry Jones as one of the village women sparkles and seems to be occupying a real time and place.

As compared to the Nightman's other flicks, "The Village" is far superior to "Signs" or "Unbreakable." It has the sentiment and the pulsating heart of "The Sixth Sense," focusing on the director's penchant for families drawn together by unforeseen circumstances. The Nightman also knows how to evoke scares and shock tactics like a true magician. And like any magician, he certainly has a lot up his sleeve.

Three wishes, first one: AVOID THIS MOVIE

WISHMASTER (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 1999)

There is one great shot in the hopelessly overwrought "Wishmaster." It is a quick shot but definitely a keeper. The heroine of the film, Alex (Tammy Lauren), visits the well-kept house of a curator (Robert Englund). The curator shows her various historic, priceless statues, including one of Pazuzu! Yes, the very same one from "The Exorcist," though perhaps smaller. It is a great shot, and one of mystery, allure and introspection, all the things the rest of "Wishmaster" is not.

The titled character is an evil genie, also known as the Djinn (Andrew Divoff, who played the anonymous biker villain in "Another 48 HRS."), who is ready to wreck havoc on the world by granting people their innermost wishes and desires. The trouble is that he takes their simple wishes and exploits them in an evil manner. For example, he grants a wish to a homeless man who wishes the rude pharmacy manager would contract cancer and die. The Djinn grants the wish and the manager grows pale and dies within a few minutes after the wish is granted. Surely the homeless man did not mean to do that!

Alex, the jewel expert, (Tammy Lauren) inadvertently unleashes this evil spirit from a fire opal and, in a nod to "Nightmare on Elm Street 4," she can feel pain each time a victim falls prey to the genie. She has to grant him three wishes and in return, he gets to destroy the world or rule it or whatever he plans to do with it.

"Wishmaster" could have been an enjoyable, highly moralistic little horror film if done with some imagination and taste. Instead it feeds on buckets of gore to make its exclamatory points about why you should think about the wishes you make before making them. The film quickly grows ponderous and silly, particularly with the Wishmaster's tired one-liners (do genies truly utter four-letter words? Haven't they been around long enough to make more snappy remarks?) Divoff is convincingly menacing as the Djinn but he even he grows tiresome. Only Lauren rises above this mess with some measure of dignity, if only because it shows a woman can defeat evil genies. Here's a wish: I wish Wes Craven would direct the films he produces.

P.S. Buck Flower plays the toothless homeless man in "Wishmaster," a similar role to his Bread character in the "Back to the Future" movies where he also played a homeless man. Alluding once again to the "Exorcist," Flower has a similar line to the homeless man in that film: "Hey, can you help an old altar boy? I am Catholic." Sacrilege!

Sin is good

VAMPIRE IN BROOKLYN (1995)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in Fall 1996)

Eddie Murphy is pretty much on the same wavelength as Whoopi Goldberg: they are both big, audacious comic stars who don't easily fit into any of the countless tired Hollywood formulas written for them. Whoopi has had a little more success than Eddie in the 90's, prior to Eddie's "The Nutty Professor." As a result, Eddie has not had a major comedy hit since 1988's "Coming to America," arguably his best picture. The new Eddie Murphy played a vampire in a film by Wes Craven back in 1995, a role you'd never expect the old Eddie from "Beverly Hills Cop" to play.

Murphy plays an African vampire with a goatee named Max who travels to Brooklyn to find his soul mate. His soul mate turns out to be a frustrated, edgy cop played by the lovely Angela Bassett ("What's Love Got To Do With It"). Max bites a few necks along the way to get to her but he can't do it all himself. He enlists the help of a young thief who becomes a sort of deteriorating, latter-day Renfield. We've seen this type of story countless times before, and there is no reason any of this should really work. Murphy as a vampire in a Wes Craven flick? Is this comedy-horror or a horror-comedy?

The surprise is that "Vampire in Brooklyn" is not half-bad at all, a minor guilty pleasure. There are plenty of good laughs, dozens of one-liners, frenetic camerawork from Max's point-of-view as he soars across Brooklyn, nasty dream sequences, and Murphy shows ample skill as a vampire who can shape-shift into a holier-than-thou, Al Sharpton-type Reverend or a thick-accented Italian gangster named Guido. The photography is appropriately dark and damp considering most of the story takes place at night. There are some nice, subtle touches such as the flickering candlelights that surround Murphy and Bassett's erotic dance and arm lanterns that extend from the wall, all lifted from Cocteau's "Beauty and the Beast" and Coppola's "Dracula."

I also found there to be pleasant chemistry between Murphy and Bassett - it would be nice to see them in more romantic pairings in the future. The scenes of Murphy inviting Bassett to dine with him ("I would like to have you...for dinner") are priceless and fitfully funny. The other plus is Murphy's impeccable impersonations and marvelous make-up jobs that show him off as the talent he always was - still, these scenes have little to do with the story at hand. Often such comedic highlights, which are precious few, interfere with the ghastly blood and gore.

"Vampire in Brooklyn" is packed with gross gags galore and unnecessary gore. A horror-comedy should balance both horror and blood equally rather than going overkill on the gore, as also witnessed by John Landis's excruciating "Innocent Blood." The ending is also strangely unfinished - I would love to have seen a more imaginative killing method rather than the traditional stake-in-the-heart. A little originality would not hurt - who can ever forget Christopher Lee's Dracula killed by both a cross and the rays of sunlight?

"Vampire in Brooklyn" proved to be a failure as Murphy's comeback - a year later, he wowed audiences and made a major comeback with "The Nutty Professor." This film certainly beats the last dreary "Beverly Hills Cop" picture he did though not as harmless and fitfully funny as "The Distinguished Gentleman." It is a hoot and a half and sporadically funny but not enough of a challenge for dear old Eddie. My advice to Eddie Murphy is to return to his raw, politically incorrect roots, as it were. He was funnier and more outrageous when you did not know what to expect.