RABID (2019)

 

(Director /co-screenwriters: Jen and Sylvia Soska, a.k.a. The Soska Sisters. Co-screenwriter: John Serge.)

 

Review

The Soska Sisters’ RABID, shot in nineteen days, is a remake of David Cronenberg’s 1977 film of the same name. Both movies share the same set-up and title. Aside from that, this updated feminist version on a synthetic plague is Soska-centric.

RABID 2019 takes place in a modern-day fashion house, where Rose Miller (Laura Vandervoort, JIGSAW, 2017) is a shy dressmaker, aspiring to design her own dresses. Most, including her arrogant boss (Günter), consider her beneath their notice, and she internalizes that lie. A motorcycle accident nearly kills her, necessitating wildly experimental surgery to keep her alive. The site of her lifesaving, later cosmetic, surgeries: Burroughs Clinic, named for her surgeon, Dr. William Burroughs. (The Soskas’ use of Burroughs is a nod to Cronenberg, specifically his 1991 film NAKED LUNCH, based on William S. Burroughs’s 1959 novel of the same name.)

Rose comes out of her surgeries and follow-up therapy more beautiful and self-assured. Everyone around her is wowed not only by her improved appearance and outgoing personality, but the bold new dress designs Günter employs her to create. Privately, though, she is in turmoil. She has not fully wrapped her head around her recent sea-changes. It does not help that the red “special diet” smoothies Burroughs tells her to drink make her stomach cramp─even as she is unable to process regular food, aside from raw meat. Also, her dreams are horrific, splateriffic scenarios, situations where she is a flesh-tearing aggressor. Unbeknownst to her, she is Patient Zero in a savage epidemic.

The climactic scenes where Rose comes into her gory glory is holy-frak crazy, making the penile-worm-in-her-armpit look tame. This chaos erupts at Häus Günter’s splashy fashion show, revealing Rose’s like-nothing-seen-before dress designs. In the end, it’s up to each viewer to decide if Rose’s fate is kinder or crueler than that of her 1977 counterpart’s (Marilyn Chambers played Rose in the original film). It’s certainly different.

One way the Soskas set their RABID apart from Cronenberg’s is the cinematography (courtesy of Kim Derko, LAND OF THE DEAD, 2005). The Soskas’ film is glossy, with lots of theme-consistent, bright red on display─like the dresses the filmmaking siblings wear in their cameos, as cocaine-snorting, gossipy fashion snobs. The look of Cronenberg’s RABID is dark, wintry, and sludgy.

The Soskas, Serge and editor Erin Deck also created a tighter, more intuitive, and less character-raw film.  It flows better than Cronenberg’s version. The acting level is about the same, with campiness underscoring some of the characters’ interactions in the Soska version. Not only that, the Soskas have graced her with a last name and a job/career, something Cronenberg’s version did not mention or show onscreen.

Sharp-eyed Cronenberg fans may appreciate the scene where Burroughs and Dr. Keloid operate on Rose (Keloid is a character from the 1977 film; he is now played by an unsettling Stephen McHattie). During the surgery, Keloid and Burroughs wear wine-red surgeon’s gowns, a nod at Cronenberg’s 1988 film DEAD RINGERS, where twin brothers─also surgeons─wear the same outfits.

Both versions of RABID might prove interesting and worthwhile, if you shed expectations prior to viewing them. They’re different beasts built in a similar structure.

BLACK FRIDAY (2021)

(Director: Casey Tebo. Screenwriter: Andy Greskoviak.)

 

Review

In the early hours of a Black Friday sale, icky, mutative aliens land on Earth and begin attacking and infecting people. At one of their landing sites, a franchise toy store (We Love Toys), disgruntled workers fight off monsters before the aliens devour them.

BLACK is an okay, idiot-padded movie. It has a good cast, a relatable anti-corporate/blue collar worker message, fun/solid FX, and promising set-up as well as good pacing (at least initially). About a quarter way of the movie, as it becomes clear that there’s an alien invasion, the characters make Plot Convenient Stupid choices─this makes up a good portion of the middle section of this eighty-five-minute flick, while previously well-constructed characters almost cheerfully sacrifice themselves for vague notions of an idiotic greater good. The ending is relatively upbeat and solid, with an opening for a sequel, one I hope they don’t make.

BLACK’s notable cast includes: Devon Sawa (FINAL DESTINATION, 2000) as the cool-headed, working-class dad Ken Bates; Ivana Baquero (PAN’S LABYRINTH, 2006) as Marnie, a two-year employee who’s ready to call it quits; Michael Jai White (SPAWN, 1997) as Archie, a cool, ripe-with-possibility character who’s largely wasted in BLACK; and a buttoned-down Bruce Campbell (MANIAC COP, 1988) as the mild-mannered, upbeat Jonathan Wexler.

Is BLACK worth seeing? Yes, if you don’t expect too much, and are looking for a Park Yer Brain flick that mixes science fiction monsters, horror, an homage to THE THING (1982) and characters who don’t think too far ahead.

THE HILLS HAVE EYES (1977)

 

(Director/ screenwriter/editor: Wes Craven)

Review

The bleak, violent HILLS begins with the Carter family road tripping through an American desert. The Carters include: “Big Bob,” a no-nonsense, politically conservative ex-cop; his traditional wife, Ethel; their liberal daughter, Lynne Wood, mother to baby Katy and wife to also-liberal Doug. Lynne’s slightly younger apolitical siblings, Bobby─wearing an Ohio State T-shirt─and Brenda, accompany them on this politically and socially frayed adventure.

The Carters, with Bob at the wheel, stop at a middle-of-nowhere gas station where its old-man attendant (Fred), concerned for their safety, warns them to keep to the main highway. Bob ignores Fred’s advice and takes a desolate “short cut” side road, setting into motion the savage back-and-forth between the Carters and a tunnel-dwelling, cannibal family.

HILLS, which has a gritty, unsettling tone to it from the get-go, takes little time in cutting to a shocking cycle of rape, torture, murder, vengeance, and other territorial violence. Its tone and intensity is appropriate given its themes (racism, class warfare, militarism, and other social problems)─Jupiter’s cannibalistic-by-necessity clan represents the desperate poor, while the Carters are materialistically comfortable middle class.

According to Craven (and IMDb), the film was inspired by three things. The first was the fifteenth-century, Scottish legend of Sawney Beane and his feral family (a wife, fourteen children) who attacked and chowed down on unlucky travelers. Eventually, the Beanes were caught, judged as crazy and executed when they were found. The second was a real-life encounter Craven and his wife had in the state of Nevada, when three locals shot an arrow in his direction; when he protested, they told him they could murder him, leave his corpse in a mine, and get away with it. The third: HILLS is a partial homage to Tobe Hooper’s 1974 movie THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE, which HILLS is spiritually akin to (some of Jupiter’s family’s belongings seen in HILLS were props taken from TEXAS).

HILLS has great behind-the-scenes crew and players. Cinematographer Eric Saarinen (DEATH RACE 2000, 1975) imbues HILLS with a harsh, dirty tone, perfectly suiting director/screenwriter Wes Craven’s blunt editing and restless POV shots, giving HILLS further edginess.

The actors who gave form to the Carters/Woods include: Russ Grieve (FOXY BROWN, 1974) as “Big Bob” Carter; Virginia Vincent (THE RETURN OF DRACULA, 1958) as Ethel, his fussy wife; Dee Wallace (THE HOWLING, 1981) as the fiercely protective and maternal Lynne Wood; and Robert Houston (THE HILLS HAVE EYES PART 2, 1984) as the action-oriented Bobby Carter.

John Steadman (SUMMER OF FEAR, 1978) played Fred, the grizzled gas station attendant with a profound sense of sorrow, caution, and fear.

James Whitworth (PLANET OF DINOSAURS, 1977) played Jupiter, barbaric patriarch of his Roman mythology-monikered clan. Horror icon Michael Berryman (ED GEIN: THE BUTCHER OF PLAINFIELD, 2007) played the opportunistic and sometimes terrified Pluto. Janus Blythe (THE HILLS HAVE EYES PART 2) played the not-as-feral-as-her-kin Ruby.

HILLS is a taut, sharp, nasty, and landmark work, one that inspired a Craven-created 1984 cinematic sequel, as well as a 2006 remake and its 2007 sequel. The first HILLS is worth your time if you can appreciate unsettling, sexually and violently graphic exploitation pieces that embody and transcend the primary genre(s) they’re often lumped into─while there’s no explicit nudity in HILLS, its brief assault/sex scenes are disturbing (though not as off-putting as those seen HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER, 1986).

THE CALL (2020)

 

(Director: Timothy Woodward Jr. Screenwriter: Patrick Stibbs.)

Storyline

October 1987. After the woman they’ve been prank-terrorizing commits suicide, they inherit her money. When they come to claim it, her husband tells her they’ll get it immediately─but first each of them must make a phone call.

 

Review

CALL is an initially solid, interesting story that melds Leigh Whannell and James Wan’s SAW (2004) and Wes Craven’s A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET (1984) within a 1980s, EC Comics-style revenge tale.

The first third of the film is solid and entertaining, with a strong set-up and fresh elements (kids inheriting a witch’s wealth). It is bolstered by tight editing, a concise screenplay and a synth-driven soundtrack (courtesy of Samuel Joseph Smythe) that recalls the work of John Carpenter. One of the elements that elevates CALL from being a waste of time is its excellent players: the key actors, especially horror veterans Lin Shaye (DEAD END, 2003) and Tobin Bell (the SAW franchise), keep CALL semi-interesting even as the storyline devolves into visually solid but not particularly scary genre tropes, with CALL becoming a series of ELM STREET-esque, surreal mindfrak scenarios, customized terror-mazes for the teenagers. All the while, Edith’s angry-but-restrained husband (Edward, played by Bell) lurks elsewhere in the house. Bell, like Shaye, is especially fun and scary in his role, channeling the dangerous, soft-spoken undertones of his iconic Jigsaw character, mixed with the sorrow of a grieving spouse.

CALL is not a bad movie, it’s just disappointing. It has so much going for it: good overall filmmaking (with the feel and editing of a waste-no-time-or-footage 1980s video gem); great acting by its principal actors; a memorable storyline (in its first third). What brings it down is its too-familiar head-trip hell-mazes (thoroughly strip-mined of its scary veins by the ELM STREET franchise) and its ending, which─even with its twists─makes the prankster’s punishment feel too fated, almost pointless.

You might enjoy this if you keep your expectations low. If you’re a fan of Shaye and Bell, who consistently shine in their work, this might also be worthwhile. Not only that, CALL‘s filmmakers’ impressive capabilities and love for 1980s video B-movies imbues the film with a nostalgic feel even when its fright-cliched events make it less-than-viewer-involving.

I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE (1943)

 

(Director: Jacques Tourneur. Screenwriters: Curt Siodmak, whose screenplay was reworked by Ardel Wray, based on Inez Wallace’s article of the same name in American Weekly Magazine, and structured by Charlotte Brontë’s uncredited novel Jane Eyre.)

 

Review

In the Caribbean, on the island of St. Sebastian, a nurse (Betsy Connell, played by Frances Dee) attends to a catatonic, somnambulist wife of a sugar plantation owner─even as Betsy falls in love with her charge’s husband (Paul Holland). According to Mrs. Holland’s physician (Dr. Maxwell), the cause of her hypnotic sickness is a “tropical fever.” But it’s clearly more than that, rooted in racism and slavery─the previous generation of Hollands brought their dark-skinned workforce to St. Sebastian. As a result, Haitian voodoo, evidenced by nighttime ceremonial drums, an arrow-riddled statue of Ti-Misery (St. Sebastian) and other things, casts a huge shadow over this sad island.

The roiling, collective emotions of the Hollands (including Wesley, Paul’s younger, alcoholic brother) and Betsy come to a head when their maid (Alma) convinces to Betsy to take Paul’s wife to a houmfort where a houngan (voodoo priest) might be able to cure the zombie-like Mrs. Holland. Things don’t turn out the way Betsy and Alma hope, leading to further plot Reveals and point-of-no-return situations.

A palpable, shadow-drenched melancholia and spookiness suffuses this romance-, imperialism- and superstition-fueled sixty-nine-minute film, briefly narrated by Betsy and, later, one of the servants. WALKED, for its time, is almost shocking in its blunt, constant acknowledgment of slavery and racism, a movie that proved to be a major influence on cinema, although critics at the time of its release were wildly divided in their opinions. Time has enhanced the reputation of this reworking of Charlotte Brontë’s uncredited novel Jane Eyre (per RKO Pictures producer Val Lewton’s wishes, who was not impressed with Inez Wallace’s film-source article), and deservedly so─it’s a masterful mood-piece work, full of iconic shots (e.g., Betsy’s first encounter with the unsettling Carrefour, played with silent, terrifying intensity by Darby Jones) and an impressive, effective layer-mix of moods and themes.

Like RKO’s THE SEVENTH VICTIM (1943), the censors at the Breen office took umbrage at WALKED’s original ending (suicide was not to be shown onscreen), so a different, but no less haunting ending replaced it. Another element that was toned down per the Breen office’s edict was Wesley’s alcoholism, which took up more screentime in its original version.*

WALKED's notable cast includes: Tom Conway (CAT PEOPLE, 1942, and its loosely linked prequel, THE SEVENTH VICTIM, 1943) as Paul Holland, Betsy’s initially cold object of desire; James Ellison (THE UNDYING MONSTER, 1942) as Wesley Rand; Theresa Harris, billed as Teresa Harris, as Alma, the Hollands’ maid─Harris, uncredited, also appeared in CAT PEOPLE, 1942; and James Bell (THE MONKEY’S PAW, 1933) as Dr. Maxwell.

WALKED’s behind-the-scenes talent includes: art directors Albert S. D’Agostino and Walter E. Keller (THE CURSE OF THE CAT PEOPLE, 1944); cinematographer J. Roy Hunt; film editor Mark Robson (who directed THE SEVENTH VICTIM, 1943); and composer Roy Webb (who, uncredited, also created the soundtrack for RETURN OF THE FLY, 1959).

TALES FROM THE CRYPT: RITUAL (a.k.a. RITUAL), a remake of WALKED, was released in 2002. Directed by Avi Nesher, it featured Jennifer Grey, Craig Sheffer, Tim Curry and Erick Avari.

 

Citation

*Clive Dawson, “Lewton vs. Breen” (article, The Dark Side magazine, issue 210, pp. 40-9)

THE INVISIBLE MAN (2020)

 

(Director/screenwriter: Leigh Whannell)

Storyline

Cecilia’s tyrannical ex kills himself and leaves her his wealth. She thinks his suicide is a hoax, a way to get her back. As events unfold, Cecilia─perceived as overwrought by others─struggles to reveal her ex’s sly and cruel plot.

 

Review

This excellent, every-shot-matters and occasional-gore thriller is one of my favorite 2020 films. Part of the reason for this is the superb acting, especially on the part of lead actress Elizabeth Moss (MAD MEN, 2007-15) who effectively embodies the trauma and eventual hope of a long-suffering abuse victim (Cecilia Cass). Cinematographers Stefan Duscio (UPGRADE, 2018, also directed and scripted by Whannell) and Daniel Grant maintain the cold, dark-tint-contrasted-with-antiseptic-brightness look that adds to the relentless, steady-build-up, psychologically intense mood of the film. Unlike UPGRADE, an underrated technology-themed thriller, INVISIBLE (rightfully) was a critical and box office hit, one that rings true to its themes of abuse, human nature, and technology. Its end-shot echoes the style of Alfred Hitchcock’s dramatic character-in-the-foreground scenes, while Benjamin Wallfisch’s score─in this scene Bernard Herman-esque─heightens the emotional rollercoaster of INVISIBLE. Great film, this.