Japanese Psycho (Horror): THE COMPLEX くクロユリ団地 @ Fantasia, 2013

As paralyzing and hair-raising, as some expression of horror may be, those scares tend to diminish when faced with he passing of time. Many of the innovations that sprung out of Japan, be them original or just executed masterfully, and most strongly associated with films like Ring by directed by Hideo Nakata and Takashi Shimizu’s Ju-on, are not likely to have the same effects on viewers who took in those earlier films, aghast, when seeing the same tricks employed again. So, it stands to reason the long haired emaciated figures of death, weird guttural sounds, and doors creaking open and shut that occasionally phase into being in THE COMPLEX (also by Hideo Nakata) bring few true feelings of fright. In fact, throughout a large part of its first act, it seems intent on delivering only a vague sense of creepiness.

            It almost feels like the film’s hand is being revealed too fast. Asuka, about to begin studying at a nursing school, who with her family has just moved into the old and rundown apartment building bearing the movie’s Japanese title (Kuroyuri Danchi), befriends a little boy who plays alone way too late at night. It feels like a clear giveaway that she has some communion with spirits of the no longer living.  And at the same time, the dread induced by a spindly, lurking, and seemingly corporeal next-door neighbor also seems to be coming to an anticlimactic head too soon.

Yet, there are little signs that things are amiss. The only kind of affective scares are mixed in with offbeat, even slightly humorous touches, like the alarm that keeps waking Asuka up or the repetitious, déjà vu inducing conversations of her parents. The arrival of a cleaner, whose job it is to clear out and purify the dilapidated dwellings of deceased individuals who went unnoticed, and the bond he forges with Asuka is the first strong suggestion that THE COMPLEX will take seemingly conventional horror into some unique and intriguing places. Altogether worth the somewhat lumbering start to get there.

As Asuka’s afflictions of terror persist and take on a more inward quality, the film delves into issues of loneliness, grief, and guilt…manifestations of horror that are far more real and for that, perhaps far more relatable to audience members that feel something akin to what Asuka is going through. It ends up evoking far more of an emotional response than the horror genre is wont to do. And in a time where cases of depression and discussions of mental health seem to be on the rise, it is admirable to see such issues dealt with head on.

So too is the challenge it poses to longstanding concepts of the nature of hauntings and the supernatural. Rather than focusing mainly on the unresolved feelings of the supernatural beings in question, it draws its horror in large part from the mental state of those being haunted, and typical symptoms of terror manifest in surprising ways, bearing resemblance to addiction, obsessive…behaviors that are not out of line with psychological disorders.

Instead of choosing one road or the other, the phenomenon is expressed as a strange flirtation between the presence of entities from the spirit realm and the victims’ psychological state. As there are few hard and fast rules that apply to genres dealing with the supernatural (as there are with say, zombies) there is a lot of flexibility in the proceedings, which can be frustrating if trying to pin a logic on the movie’s critical confrontations. Or it can be dizzying fun if you’re willing to just enjoy the ride. It involves an enraptured, blood splattered séance and a tug-of-war between realms that reaches a frenzied, clawing conclusion with confinement to a complete and utter isolation at stake. It is unexpectedly, breathtakingly terrifying, and the true finale to the film, although the flame filled sequence that follows is so vibrant in its excess, it is fun to take in all the same.  

            THE COMPLEX is nothing if not bold for its incorporation of real life issue horrors – it joins several other Japanese films in dealing with themes of loneliness – into a backdrop of traditional scares. Atsuko Maeda (of AKB48 fame) and Hiroki Narimiya inject a sense of sincerity into their characters that make their struggle seem that much more urgent.

THE COMPLEX plays the Fantasia Film Festival on July 26 at 4:45 PM. Visit the site for details.

Me on twitter = @mondocurry

Gentleman MANIAC

Remakes have always raised the nagging question of ‘why’ – and often, other than cashing in on a name or updating an already proven script, worthwhile reasons are difficult to come by. But along comes director Franck Khalfoun’s take on MANIAC, the cult classic slasher film directed by William Lustig.  With a script written by Alexandre Aja and a riveting performance by Elijah Wood in the lead role, the intent of this endeavor seems clear: to both pay homage to an influential genre film while elevating the source material into something more meaningful. The result is a collision of visceral gore and innovative visual storytelling, making for a refreshingly thrilling modern entry into the horror genre.

This MANIAC is more a slow moving portrait whose mood you feel yourself pulled into rather than a story that has you wondering what will happen next. The path is a familiar and straightforward one of boy (Frank played by Elijah Wood) meeting girl (Anna, a visual artist), boy falling for girl, and boy coming to grips with girl’s unavailability - or rather losing his grip because of it - along with the ensuing carnage. Add to this equation the fact that Frank appears to have suffered a lifetime of psychological trauma up to his current young adulthood, leading to an unhealthy pastime with stalking and mutilating women, when not running the mannequin shop that has been in his family. What draws them together is Anna’s interest in the lifeless figures in the shop window, which she envisions as part of a gallery show she is working on.

While not complicated by twists and turns, the telling of the narrative is thoroughly engaging for its stylistic choices. First and most prominent is the use of a first person POV perspective, that of the film’s murderous subject Frank, consistently throughout most of its duration. It’s a daring move, taking its well-known lead off screen onscreen for much of the movie, save for his reflected image or sequences in his mind. Yet it also creates an unsettling experience as we are forced to share Frank’s rattled mindset and voyeuristic fixations from within. All too good a job is done carrying across the obsessive excitement he experiences as he tracks his victims.

In fact, the character itself is a unique departure from typical domineering antagonists in this sort of film. Slight of build, Frank is portrayed not only as physically frail (he often succumbs to overpowering migraines), but also wracked with emotional insecurities. Such as when his sexuality is questioned, or aspects of his past are brought up in innocent jest by those he encounters…his inability to react betrays his killer persona. Speaking with a reedy voice and in an overly articulate manner, Frank is the antithesis of trendy slasher cool. This more fragile characterization along with the POV perspective makes Frank an empathetic figure to varying degrees, something that must be distinguished as a completely different thing from rooting cynically for a character’s actions.

A brilliant soundtrack, by a musician known only as ‘Rob’ is a standout feature of the film that does more to add emotional coloring to the character. Besides referencing ‘80s electronic dance music, which accurately fits the time of the original MANIAC, it makes use of synthesizer washes, which much like the work of Klaus Schulze or Tangerine Dream, create a sense of emptiness and isolation that Frank is coming from. Even the catchier numbers support the film thematically: the cold synth-based compositions perfectly compliment statements on image conscious superficiality that the film seems at least somewhat concerned with.

This theme is carried through in the setting as well; moved from its 1980 predecessor’s locale of a famously grimy New York City, this version takes place in Los Angeles. Khalfoun mentioned the need for an anonymous city where moments of ominous isolation could plausibly happen. Yet the destination sought by so many seeking to make a name for themselves by flaunting a fashionable look lends itself to suggestions of the glamour and artifice that gets under Frank’s skin. At the opening reception for Anna’s exhibition, Frank comes face to face with plastic smiles and hollow laughter. Viewed through his agitated perspective, they come across as threats, assaults even. ‘I sometimes feel the mannequins have more personality than people,’ Frank confides to Anna.

Do not let the attention to concept suggest the film isn’t filled with primal brutality.  The team behind MANIAC is determined not to come up short in the gore department, as flesh is sliced with brutal precision and plenty of splattered blood.  And even here themes arise. Consider afterwards, if your stomach is up for it, the manner of violence rendered on different victims and it seems Frank is lashing out at prized physical attributes, savagely attacking the very parts of the body each victim seems to value most. And, perhaps the most signature of the film’s brutal acts (and one that is shared with the original MANIAC) are the scalpings aimed at the face and hair – how better to spit in the face at what our idol culture holds most dear?

The MANIAC of 2013 is fully functional throughout its concise hour and 29 minute running time, but truly soars when marrying the aesthetics of art house and grindhouse to create imagery both repulsive and chillingly captivating. Like the near-conclusion’s flesh tearing sequence, comparable to the body horror of Cronenberg’s films, signifying the layers of Frank’s psyche being stripped away.

Maniac's Gallery: If horror is in the eye of the beholder, it's interesting to consider different presentations on the notion of psychotic killer from around the world. While above is Jeff Proctor's stylized poster for the film's US release, below are posters from South Korea, France, and Japan, where the film has already been released.

MANIAC opens Friday, June 21^st, at the IFC Center and will also be available to watch on VOD.  Those that can make it to the 9:20 screenings on Friday, June 21 and Saturday, June 22, when Elijah Wood will appear in person, are strongly urged to do so. His enthusiasm for the horror genre is sure to make for an entertaining evening.  

Mondocurry on twitter = @mondocurry

The Tribeca Files 3: Of Monsters And Men...Who Will Soon Be Turned Into Monsters - FRANKENSTEIN'S ARMY

FRANKENSTEIN’S ARMY is the ultimate found footage horror film. It’s a straightforward, free-of-complications depiction of a Russian platoon’s rescue mission into a remote World War II era Nazi occupied village. What they, and by proxy we fortunate viewers, find in this presumably alternate history are monstrous amalgamations of man and machine that decimate their numbers until the film reel ends. But not before introducing us to a devilish take on the iconic pop culture figure with a god complex.   

One watches the Czech production with a sense that something impossibly esoteric has been unearthed; from the rubble of battle torn ruins or perhaps the bottom of drawer containing secreted away, classified files. This footage is imbued with an old stock quality that blankets us with a warm antiquated feeling.

It also makes the viewing feel closer to being a head on experience. It’s an inherent quality of found footage films that is all too often neglected. The lurching stops and starts create disorientation and a sense that physical harm is rapidly descending upon us. Kind of like the most incredibly conceived of concept for a haunted house attraction ever.

The monstrous creations enlisted in FRANKENSTEIN’S ARMY are literally the stuff of nightmares. When my dreams go dark, they rarely contain easily identifiable figures. They tend to be distorted mixtures of various cultural reference points. That’s what director –‘s inventions are like, adding another layer to the experience not unlike feeling trapped in a helpless dream. Another great use of the found footage mode makes it so they do not ever feel neatly framed. There is no outward acknowledgment that this is a movie. Instead they lurch awkwardly about, sometimes not even aware of our presence. Threatening to notice and turn in our direction at any given moment.

Yet they are not without their vintage historic scifi (re: Steampunk) appeal. propeller blades, divers' helmets, and other mechanisms are repurposed in thrilling ways. Terror intersects astonishment.

Also of note is the brilliantly oppressive soundtrack. Between the fade in and out of thundering, militaristic propaganda dirges are dense walls of sound. The racket of a giant generator, for instance. When it fades momentarily, you feel like you’ve been given a reprieve. (You’ll also probably notice the enthusiastic applause of other viewers.)

Can it not be said that FRANKENSTEIN’S ARMY is a powerful statement on the horrors of war? Sorry for getting serious while we’re all glazed over with thoughts of propeller-faced behemoths and other warped monstrosities, but the instances of anti-heroism in FRANKENSTEIN’S ARMY seem to form a pretty blunt statement on the subject. There is bullying behavior and bloodthirsty intent in the part of the team we follow. Nobility appears more in the meek civilians encountered along the way. And the rescue mission itself is tainted by hidden agendas. Yes, while the film does operate as a tour of sensory delights, it does in fact have a plot worthy of keeping your attention on the interplay between characters.

That Raaphorst has acclaim as an ad director is no surprise. He has an obvious gift for animating scenes that will remain in viewers’ unconscious. This probably has a lot to do with FRANKENSTEIN’S ARMY being a successful exercise in form as well as content. The movie is in fact a shot in the arm to the realm of creature design, giving recent forerunners in this twisted art like Yoshihiro Nakamura cause to up their game. His cult-worthy Tokyo Gore Police has nothing on FRANKENSTEIN’S ARMY.

FRANKENSTEIN’S ARMY premiered at the 2013 Tribeca Film Festival. Its future fate is of no small amount of intrigue.

Follow this link for some sketches of the creature designs. But make a point of seeing their blessedly CGI-less animated forms on a large screen.

Tweet-tivity: @mondocurry  

The Tribeca Files 1: When a DARK TOUCH Falls on Deaf Ears

The Violent Eye, in collusion with Unseen Films, will be bringing you looks at this year's Tribeca Film Festival. In its first bit of festival coverage, the 'Eye will focus on genre films in the realms of crime and suspense, as well as all those in the Midnight category. So it begins with DARK TOUCH. Follow the exploits of Violent Eye conduit to the flesh world Mondocurry on twitter.

At various points in DARK TOUCH, you may find yourself wondering how people in the film can be so blind to what’s happening? Do they not know how this works? Have they not been to the movies before?

But then, characters, or more specifically, adults that populate the provincial Irish hamlet where the story takes place don’t really notice or listen to much of anything. This seems a major point of Marina De Van‘s stylized riff on classic horror, taking the ‘little girl besieged by paranormal activity’ formula and souping it up with a shot of social commentary, if not entirely turning it inside out.

The little girl in question is Neve, wide eyed and wearing an expression of perpetual unease. Child actress Missy Keating does a wonderful job channeling a forlorn sense of knowing into her frail form. She moves slowly, as if on brittle legs, suggesting she is aged beyond her years.

After the turmoil of a messy opening scene, we get hints of some kind of trauma. And then, things go ballistic. The film sets itself apart by not beating around the bush with typical shadowy appearances and slamming doors. Instead, furniture flies about, explodes, or shoots across rooms to pin people down, while sharp ends make savage incisions on their targets. It’s the first of a few impressively wrought and very bloody transgressions.

This incident leaves Neve an orphan, so naturally, a couple once close to her parents take her in while awaiting a more permanent arrangement. Remember the adage, ‘it takes a village to raise a child.’ In effect it is the small town itself with its quaint 1 room schoolhouse that adopts her.

Naturally things begin to go awry, but not with the usual plodding about as in your typical house horror film. It’s quite apparent to everyone in the audience, even to Neve herself who, in a moment of self-awareness, declares, “I’m the one that does all this.” Yet, it is the adults of the film who don’t notice because they are too busy being…adults.

Seen as a typical revenge of the abused against the abuser story, I could see this lacking excitement. But (and perhaps this is some recent sociocultural studies classes doing the talking) DARK TOUCH seems preoccupied with a more encompassing notion of how adults act toward children, which doesn’t end with physical abuse. The act of control, of assuming knowledge of what’s best without actually listening, seems just as much an affront. De Van suggests, and none too subtly, how the children here are being socialized to carry this same pattern out from generation to generation. This is shown in a (hopefully) soon to be classic “birthday” scene that I found playfully macabre.  As well as scenes where Neve, assuming an antagonistic role, begins mimicking the ‘adults talk’ she has been hearing around her.

Cataloging the aspects of DARK TOUCH’s production that I liked could be done routinely enough. Sinister soundtrack. Claustrophobic spaces. Children bearing creepily threatening likenesses. Checks all around.

Rather, it is the points where DARK TOUCH seems to go ‘off the rails’, like the aforementioned interior explosions, that I am most interested in. There is definitely a point where logic falls by the wayside and events lose their connectivity. A more dreamlike sensibility takes over, perhaps giving in fully to Neve’s wrathful state of mind. Visually arresting scenes of destruction more than make up for any loose ends or lacking explanations. As an impressionistic lashing out against a certain cultural phenomenon, it makes quite an impact.

DARK TOUCH receives its world premiere at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival. It plays. Visit the festival website for more details.