Gerard Johnstone directs Allison Williams, Violet McGraw and Amie Donald in this horror where a lifelike android prototype over reaches in her protocol to be a little girl’s best friend.
Enough cool moments for a new multiplex icon to be born. The carnage takes a while to get moving, then it never exceeds the peaks teased in the trailer. Handles the tech company / killer app cliched bobbins better than most modern horrors. Fun.
Mark Jenkins directs Mary Woodvine, Edward Rowe and John Woodvine in this experimental chiller where a lone woman explores a deserted Cornish island with daily uniformity.
People trust that rockabilly quiff. Yet sometimes Mark Kermode will praise to high heaven a movie that only really has a British director (who, like he, went to public school) and a Seventies vibe in its arsenal. Real slogs. And because he is genuinely articulate and passionate about all cinema – and actively doesn’t truck with Transformer movies or Roland Emmerich – the broadsheet / Radio 4 / premium podcast listening belly breathers think his opinion is untouchable. They never approach these wildly personal recommends (the impenetrable work of Carol Morley, the bang average looking Encounter) with the essential caveat of “Yes… but would I enjoy this saggy bag of pretentious bollocks over the latest Michael Bay entertainment?” ‘Cos they’ve tied their flag to one of the most idiosyncratic voices in middle class film criticism. So when they all start walking out of my screening of Enys Men half an hour in… is it really forgivable? By now they surely must know just because a film smells a bit like like Nicolas Roeg that don’t, in any way, mean the general ticket buying public will find any comforts within it. Their champion Kermode benefits from championing, his readers / listeners are unlikely to have the same motivations and immersive back stop of viewing eccentricities to fall back on. He was at the Scala in the early Eighties, crusaded to get rereleases of the original cuts of The Exorcist and The Devils. His bonafides are unquestionable but if you are only getting your film criticism from one source then chances are your cinematic palettes are a bit too stunted for Enys Men. Hence a third of the audience disrupting the mood and voting with their feet just as things were gently ramping up. C’mon guys… unexpected lichen has appeared!!! Turns out Enys Men is my kinda late night thing. I saw all its influences and its open yet obtuse intentions and I wholeheartedly went with it. The colours explode on the big screen, 5p seaside town newsagent postcards come to life. I like the forced poetry of it. The spooky, the experimental, the candle being snuffed out and the jump cut to daybreak. My take on the time slip and the apparitions and the repetitions worked for out me. I was invested in the puzzler aspect. I appreciated the mutating headfuck. Husband and wife team Jenkins and Woodvine locked me in with their hermit stylings. For me, for Mark, but for you? Make up your own mind.
7
Perfect Double Bill: Berberian Sound Studio (2012)
Park Chan-Wook directs Tang Wei, Park Hae-Il and Lee Jung-hyun in this Korean police thriller where a middle aged police detective begins to fall for the suspect in a mysterious death.
The kinda movie where the pattern of the background wallpaper is more cinematic than most franchise movies. Tang Wei is utterly enthralling as the untrustworthy immigrant beauty. Feels very much like they came up with the memorable, highly symbolic, ending and worked backwards. Very dense plotting and production design. There are some Asian social mores and language quirks that get lost in translation… huge swathes where you might need to double check back on what has happened. Probably will work better on rewatch. But essentially it boils down to a longer, sweeter yet bleaker Vertigo (1958) or Basic Instinct. I have a lot of time for that mood, and I certainly will retry something cut from such high quality cloth.
Chris Columbus directs Hayden Panettiere, Paul Rust and Lauren London in this teen comedy where a nerdy valedictorian publicly pronounces his love for a wild cheerleader on graduation day unleashing a series of chaotic consequences.
Sam Firstenberg directs Sho Kosugi, Keith Vitali and Kane Kosugi in this American martial arts film where a ninja must protect his family after he is betrayed by his shadowy business partner.
Cheesy but enjoyable Cannon Group beat-‘em-up movie shot in Utah. There’s enough brutal violence here, madcap action and sleazy plotting, to keep you thoroughly pumped from teeth to tits. Then ninja grandma whips out her Crouching Tiger magic and the crowd goes crazy. The final rooftop one-on-one fight is epic – every ninja weapon and trick is deployed. A cheap, forgotten treat.
6
Perfect Double Bill: Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins (1985)
Jean-Jacques Beineix directs Jean-Hugues Anglade, Béatrice Dalle and Consuelo de Haviland in this erotic drama about a writer’s relationship with his troubled yet beautiful girlfriend.
*** Warning! Spoilers! ***
Everyone remembers the first act. The painting of the beach huts. The raw thrusting. The home destroying tantrums. Fiery. Dalle is a wonder boy. She never even got close to reaching these heights again… even in the later parts of the very movie that made her an icon of the Eighties… what heights though! Gap toothed, open and always moving. Delectable whether clothed or undressed (there’s plenty of male nudity too), bonkers but just on the right side of annoying. You shouldn’t fuck crazy but she makes a convincing counter argument. Oh so French! Oh-La-La!
Cinema Du Look. Beineix challenges naturalism throughout, especially with his exteriors. This is often about mood and emotion more than logic or plot. At three hours, Betty Blue is a challenge and the third act goes off the rails in more ways than one. There’s multiple reasons for this. Even though Dalle’s Betty’s mental health deteriorates extremely from ‘cute menace to society’ to a ‘genuinely at risk individual’ her screentime diminishes. Even by the end of the second hour it feels like the spotlight is no longer being equitably shared and she shifts into the background a jot too much. There are compelling but blind siding subplots (drag robbery, piano delivery) that add little to the central relationship.
I think (and this is my own personal interpretation) that is because we are seeing Anglade’s Zorg’s fantasy as a struggling writer. Betty fills a gap beyond sexual desire, wild companionship and emotional support. She rebels against the drudgery of his day jobs creating dramatic exits from the stifling need to earn a wage, whether by arson or fork stabbing. She openly interrogates his self respect as a man and as an artist. She does all the boring admin grunt work towards getting him published. The typing up, the sending out, the conscious rejecting of the rejection letters. And once he makes steps towards being a writing success their relationship begins to fracture. She has needs beyond sex and encouraging her aspiring author – she wants a family, to reshape their world – and it tears her reality apart. There’s definitely a metaphor about creation in her emotionally shattering failed pregnancy. He begins to dress convincingly like a woman, indulge in more dangerous behaviours, eventually euthanising the better half who might be a lunatic but served to keep him on the right track to being a publishing success. His ultimate masterpiece is about the very woman whose life force he has spent getting to the next stage of his writing career. Ironic exploitation to the max. Betty Blue isn’t just his unhinged dream woman but his fairy godmother, possibly a high functioning split personality. And when her volatile service is no longer needed he emerges mature, she dead. And even if I’m wrong about all this supposing, it is a beautiful fucked-up marathon of experiences.
Tommy Wirkola directs David Harbour, John Leguizamo and Beverly D’Angelo in this action comedy where a drunk but tough Santa protects a wealthy family who have been taken hostage by mercenaries wanting their safe.
One joke meme movie that idles in the middle. Tonally off. Feels like a Christmas kids film with extreme violence rewritten hastily when someone watched a season of Succession. Populated entirely by unlikeable characters, and in a flick like this you do need someone, anyone to root for. Won’t become a festive perennial.
Jack Hill directs Joanne Nail, Robbie Lee and Monica Gayle in this exploitation flick where The Jezebels find themselves in a power struggle when a capable new girl joins their gang.
Girl gang action and in-fighting with bundles of good energy. The action always goes bigger than you might expect. All the boys (aged 40 and over) are dweebs. Wholesome sleaze, classier than it needs to be without losing any edge.
Federico Fellini directs Magali Noël, Bruno Zanin and Pupella Maggio in a semi-autobiographical tale about Titta, an adolescent boy growing up among an eccentric cast of characters in the village of Borgo San Giuliano in 1930s Fascist Italy.
A lunatic uncle shouts from a tree. A gramophone fights Mussolini. Erotic encounters at the movies and in the tobacconists. A big mosaic of a movie – obvious influence on the form of Richard Linklater’s Dazed And Confused. Starts and ends in the hustle bustle of communal ensemble. The vignettes inbetween are more personal. Shifts from the sitcom to ribald to grim accounts of everyday Fascism. Feels like Fellini’s most fun, least pretentious work (that I’ve seen so far). Might be my favourite of his.
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 