The Avengers - 2012 - Joss Whedon

To give a little history behind how The Avengers came to be, one has to go back a few years to the release of Iron Man in 2008. After the end credits of the first Iron Man movie, there is a scene where Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), the director of a governmental peacekeeping organisation called S.H.I.E.L.D, confronts Tony "Iron Man" Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) about putting together a group of superheroes, called "The Avengers Initiative". So, between 2008 and 2011, several superhero films based on Marvel Comics have hinted at the upcoming film of The Avengers and which superheroes will play a part in the final picture. So, films such as The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor (2011) and Captain America (2011) introduced us to Bruce Banner and his alter ego, the green, 10-foot rage monster, The Hulk, Steve "Captain America" Rogers and Norse Demigod, Thor; all of whom would become heroes in The Avengers. 

With a history as long and drawn out as that, it is good that the plot is fairly simple for a franchise starter. When villainous Loki (Tom Hiddleston), who was banished from his home world of Asgard at the end of Thor, launches an attack on Earth, it is up to S.H.I.E.L.D director Nick Fury to reassemble his ragtag team of superheroes to save the world. Amongst the super-people picked are Captain America (Chris Evans), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Iron Man, Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) and Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo, replacing The Incredible Hulk's Edward Norton), whose constant self-loathing keeps the monster within from emerging at an inopportune time.

It should be noted that the main motivation behind the inception of this movie is to milk any last drop of profit out of each of these respective heroes' franchises as possible. However, there is nothing wrong with making a movie intended to make money if it is well handled, which is especially tricky when there is no star to shoulder the responsibilities of a leading man. It is to director Joss Whedon's credit that it is pulled off so well, taking the various threads that made each hero work in their own films and teasing out something witty and charming about each of them. It could have easily centred on Robert Downey Jr.'s Iron Man, as he is the most famous actor in the film, and plays the most popular character in the group. Thankfully, Whedon is a talented filmmaker and his history as a writer-producer-director for television gives him a good eye for raising particular characters and actors just enough to let that particular performer shine, without letting their presence overwhelm the story. Think for example of Firefly, or its feature-length spin-off Serenty, both of which had a large ensemble cast which Whedon managed to pull off with wit and energy. 

 Whedon's deft direction and wittily written script and the unselfish ensemble acting do much to bring their characters to life. Each playing their character with all the charm and charisma that they brought to their own films, the only difference being that they now must do so as a supporting-player, as there is no singular lead in the picture. Chris Evans plays Steve Rogers earnestly, with a touch of the "noble war hero" that he had in Captain America. Chris Hemsworth plays Thor with all the swagger he had in Thor, except now he has a greater emotional weight as it is he who banished Loki and made him thirsty for revenge. Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark is just as dry and witty as we remember him, and he gets some great interplay with the overly sincere Captain America, who takes offence to Tony Stark's sarcasm and seeming lack of interest in the fate of the world. 

However, the standout, for me, was Mark Ruffalo. In many ways, he has the most difficult task out of the four lead heroes. Firstly, he is the only cast member who has not played the character before, as he was a last minute replacement for Edward Norton. Secondly, whereas Norton played Bruce Banner as a desperate man looking for a cure, Ruffalo plays Banner as a man filled with self-loathing and a grudging realisation that he is in constant danger of turning into a beast. If his anger were to tip-over, he would turn at any point, meaning he has become immune to things which would try the patience of most people, such as being teased or prodded. It is a very subtle performance, and it is arguably the best representation of this character yet, which I believe has been mishandled in his previous incarnations. It is especially impressive as Ruffalo performed not only Banner's scenes, but Hulk's scenes, with the help of a motion-capture suite and some state of the art CGI technology. 

Perhaps the best thing about The Avengers is its pace, as it did not feel overlong, even with a two hours and twenty minutes running time. Instead, it seems to zip along, giving each character a fair share of one-liners and character moments. It also creates the giddy, childlike feeling of reading a new comic book, or watching a new episode of a Saturday morning cartoon. It is bright and charming, instead of artificially dark and brooding, which seems to be the way that the majority of comic book adaptations are going these days. That is to say, whereas Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, earned their adult content, many comic book adaptations, like 2009's Watchmen, felt like they were dark simply for the sake of it. Of course, there are adult themes in The Avengers, but they are handled in such a way that a child of 11 or 12 could understand them just as well as the parent accompanying them. On that note, much of the colouring and brightness can attributed to director-of-photography Seamus McGarvey, production designer James Chinlund and the many art directors and members of the visual effects team, who are far too numerous mention by name. I believe it is down to them that the climactic battle seemed, for the most part, exciting and fresh, and not like the same old dull battle scenes we have seen countless times in Michael Bay's Transformers franchise.

However, it is not all good. Most of the plot revolved around a source of energy called The Tesseract, which is a cube shaped objected of seemingly unlimited power. When it is activated, it opens a portal through space, which Loki, and later Loki's army, enter. This, as most people may have figured out, is a MacGuffin, which was a term popularised by Alfred Hitchcock to describe an item which everyone is chasing; and it is not a very good MacGuffin at that. Compare this to, for example, the statue of the falcon in The Maltese Falcon (1941), and you will see how much this pales by comparison. On top of that, I felt that Tom Hiddelston's Loki was fairly limp as a villain, and his CGI army of aliens were pretty indistinguishable and lacked characterisation. I realise that the first film in a franchise, which traditionally has the most easily defeatable baddies, but I really felt that Loki being pummelled into the ground by The Hulk was a fairly weak comeuppance, as hilarious as that scene was. Concerning the heroes, I never felt that Jeremy Renner as Hawkeye or Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow were particularly impressive, in fact they were largely forgettable. This is partly due to the script not giving them enough to do, but mostly, I feel, they were slightly miscast. Although, Johansson did show that she could be more impressive in future instalments, as she was particularly impressive when recruiting The Hulk or interrogating Loki by using reverse psychology. She owned those scenes with intelligence and grace.

Granted, these are  minor of imperfections, and for the most part these could be improved upon in future instalments, they were just a little bit distracting. Also, fans of character actors may get a kick out of seeing cameo appearances by Powers Boothe, Harry Dean Stanton and Jenny Agutter; I know I did. I will say that, ultimately, it did not live up to the hype put upon this super-hero mashup, and newcomers to the franchise may be a little lost, but it is an entertaining summer blockbuster which manages to achieves the majority of its objectives. It is a good piece of action entertainment, but little more, and in the end, that is all it is intended to be.

8/10

South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut - 1999 - Trey Parker

It is hard for me to talk about South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut, the feature length spin-off to the TV show, South Park, without speaking about the impact that both the show and the film had on me; at least in terms of the development of my taste and sense of humour. As a child, in primary school, I remember going into class and hearing my classmates talk about South Park and being jealous that I had yet to see it. When I was finally allowed to watch it, however, the whole world changed, and suddenly I understood how one could make swearing into an art form. It has also been the show, other than The Simpsons, which has followed me from childhood until adulthood, being there at every stage of my development. South Park is currently in its 16th seasons and shows no signs of stopping. When the film came out in 1999, the show was only two years old, and many parents around the world, especially in America, thought that it was corrupting their youth (along with Beavis and Butthead and Eminem). At this point, it had not yet earned its reputation as a satirical show, which it would in later seasons.

In many ways, South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut was the point where South Park became satirical and tackled subjects larger than itself. So, what was there better to tackle than censorship on TV and film? Especially given all that South Park the show had been accused of, in terms of its effects on children. The story begins with South Park's four heroes, Kyle, Kenny, Stan and Cartman, who are on their way to see Terrence and Philip: Asses of Fire, the feature length spin-off to the Canadian TV show, Terrance and Phillip, which the boys adore. Their plan hits a snag, however, when they find out the movie has been rated R by the Motion Picture Association of America for its foul language. Luckily, they manage to trick their way into the screening, and when they emerge roughly two hours later, they are swearing a blue streak for all the world to hear. This does not go down well at their school or home, and soon America's youth in its entirety has seen the film, and are all cursing like sailors. Eventually, the mothers of the four lead boys have had enough and start an anti-Canadian propaganda campaign, which eventually leads to Terrance and Philip being arrested in the United States for "corruption of youth" and are set to be executed forthwith. Soon, this scuffle between Canada and America leads to all out warfare, akin to trench combat of the First World War.

Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the creators of the show, who, along with Pam Brady,  have written a script which, on the surface, seems xenophobic, racist and homophobic, yet they are not being malicious; they are simply trying to see how many people they can offend before the offended realise that they have fallen into their trap. Despite the seemingly offensive material, nothing even resembling offence comes from the film. Instead, they are placing a mirror up to the audience who, before long, realise they are less like the idealistic young boys, and more like the outraged mothers who are ready to go to war over naughty language. Trey Parker directs with the same style that Lenny Bruce or George Carlin would construct a comedy bit during their stand-up routines, by lacing their foul-mouthed material with pin sharp satire. It becomes especially apparent that Parker, Stone and Brady are trying to annoy audiences to elicit a reaction when Satan, the overlord of hell itself, is made to be a sympathetic character, and in a gay relationship with Sadam Hussain. Not only were far-right Christians annoyed at its representation of Satan, but the film was banned in Iraq for its portrayal of Saddam Hussein. 

Although, it must be said, that Parker, Stone and Brady would not present these stereotypes, such as xenophobia, anti-semitism or racism if they actually believed in them. They are subversive to the point where they do not care if other people find the material in the film to be offensive. If the movie seems different in terms of structure to the show, it is because they are using more of a laser guided precision on the targets they are taking down, whereas the show is more scattershot and sporadic. However, if this tautness does lead to any problems, it is that some supporting characters who are more present in the show, such as Chef (Isaac Hayes), are not in much of the film.

However, it is not as if Matt Stone and Trey Parker are just being provocative for the sake of being provocative, and it also is not as if they are simply trying to make a satirical movie which annoys a lot of people. First and foremost, this is a comedy, and on top of that, a comedy-musical, and it excels in both formats. Firstly, the songs are excellent, often parodying the likes of Disney's Beauty and the Beast or West End plays such as Les Misérables. It helps that Trey Parker, who wrote the music alongside Marc Shaiman, is a self-confessed musical theatre buff and studied music at the University of Colorado. Secondly, the humour is wonderfully filthy and it is delivered at a whip-crack pace. If one were to leave the room in the middle of the film, one would find themselves lost upon their return. Although, that is at least to be expected when the running time is a sparse 82-minutes in length, and in that time we go from seeing four boys watching a film to the outbreak of the Third-World War.

Unfortunately, the great irony is that the MPAA imposed several cuts upon the film, otherwise they would have released it with an NC-17 rating, which would have severely sliced the film's audience. Eventually Parker and Stone cut out several scenes, and the MPAA allowed the film to be rated R. On that note, South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut would make a fascinating double feature with Kirby Dick's documentary, This Film is Not Yet Rated (2006), as both films dissect the MPAA's nannying of audiences and conservative bias against sex and foul language. As Sheila Brofloski, Kyle's mother, states towards the end of the film. "Horrific deplorable violence is okay, so long as nobody says any naughty words. That is what this war is all about."

In terms of voice work, it is as good as the show, which is high praise indeed. Trey Parker and Matt Stone tackle their respective characters with as much gusto as they did in the show, and they give life to several new characters with the same energy. This is also one of the last opportunities to hear the voice work of the late Mary Kay Bergman, who voiced most of the female characters on the show, as she sadly committed suicide not long after the release of the film. One complaint in terms of the voice department would be the celebrity voice-overs, such as George Clooney and Eric Idle, who seem like they are hamming their roles up, causing their scenes to be jarring. There is also an unforgivable lack of Isaac Hayes as Chef, which is especially surprising considering that this is a musical, a seemingly perfect opportunity for Hayes. Although he does have a great running gag about a clitoris.

In conclusion, this is a very smart satire, which uses its profanity as one of its greatest weapons for weeding out hypocrites. It is well paced, and the humour is strong throughout. If there are any niggles, they are only small ones, such as the lack of Isaac Hayes. Overall, an excellent film and a highpoint in the South Park canon.

8/10

Blood on Satan's Claw - 1971 - Piers Haggard

I believe it is fair to say that Paganism, as a religion, has been represented poorly throughout cinema's history. When they are not frolicking round trees, or dancing naked over a roaring fire, they are sending good, Christian men to their deaths or raising their dark overlord, Satan. It has always been the case that horror cinema has been overwhelmingly traditional, with Christianity, more often than not, saving the day. So during the late sixties and early seventies, as a reaction to the counterculture of the time, especially with the rise of the hippie era and Wicca's sudden spike in popularity, there were new targets at which traditionalists could aim. The/Blood on Satan's Claw (it was released under both titles) dabbled in the same paranoid reaction that The Wicker Man (1973) would enlarge upon a few years later, only less successfully. However, to be fair, while those who practise Wicca and Paganism may be offended by the treatment of their respective religions, the only reason these horror movies existed was due to the confusion and fear that people in the general public had towards these countercultures. 

These types of films are often set in the mid-1700s in rural England, due to the obsession with witchcraft during that time, and the devil is out to get the locals when they least suspect it; corrupting the children of the village with his mischief and generally being a nuisance. Our story opens with farmer, Ralph Gower (Barry Andrews), who excavates a strange, gnarled corpse that is neither human or animal while ploughing the earth. He attempts to alert his employer, Mistress Isobel Banham (Avice Landone) and her suitor, the local Judge (Patrick Wymark), but when the Judge inspects the spot himself, the body is gone. After the Judge dismisses Ralph's claims as ridiculous and declares, "Witchcraft is dead and discredited," he leaves the quaint country village for London. In his absence, an infection spreads among the children, turning them from sweet natured innocents, into a devil worshipping cult of witches, killing and corrupting those who are not yet turned. 

If Blood on Satan's Claw has one thing in its favour, which makes it memorable from the slew of other films of its ilk, it is its stout conservatism. Unlike Witchfinder General, where the antagonist is the greatest authority in the land, and those accused of witchcraft are innocent all along, with their confessions tortured out of them. Or, unlike The Wicker Man, where the lawman and protagonist has no authority over the people he is investigating. Here, those in a place of authority are examples of unquestioned decency and goodness. Other than the Judge, there is also Reverend Fallowfield (Anthony Ainfield), a man charged with not only teaching the children of the village the word of the Bible, but also being a symbol for religious decency in the village; especially with The Judge gone. One scene, for example, sees the Reverend turn down the sexual advances of Angel Blake (Linda Hayden), the leader of the Satanic cult, despite being clearly tempted. He is incorruptible, and director Piers Haggard has no interest whatsoever in challenging or subverting these roles, especially of those in power. However, the witches are simply witches, and that is the end of it. Once the children are turned, they are turned for good, and then it is only a matter of time before they are raping and murdering the innocent; in between attempts to raise Satan from hell, of course. 

In fact, sexuality in all its forms is represented as having a direct link to devilry, often being the first thing which leads the innocent astray before they are either killed, or converted to members of the cult. However, when has sexuality not been judged in such a way in horror cinema? The stereotype that those who are sexually promiscuous are the first to be killed is supported here, with characters with even the vaguest interest in sex being punished. However, none of these things are particularly bad things. Conservatism in horror has been a fact of the genre since  the days of folklore, often being used as a scare tactic to steer impressionable youths away from destructive alternative lifestyles and urging them towards the virtues of Christianity. Fans of horror simply have to accept the fact for the most part, it is not terribly subversive as a genre.

However, there is plenty to recommend here. Firstly, this particular sub-genre of horror began because people were growing tired of the camp, brightly coloured films that Hammer Horror was releasing; especially since Hammer's best days were long behind them. So instead of unnaturally bright scenery (Hammer would often paint individual leaves and blades of grass to make them brighter), here we have a constantly overcast sky looming over a grey-brown farmland. Another fine point on the technical side of the film is the photography, often filming scenes from very low angles, creating a sense of dread. A fine example of this is the opening title sequence, where the credits play over a raven sitting on a perch. It is shot from below, making the bird seem less like a natural animal and more like some ominous demon. 

It is an extremely atmospheric film, which no doubt helped it gain its reputation as a minor cult classic; even being featured on Mark Gatiss' A History of Horror on BBC4 in 2010. It is a shame then that I personally feel it in no way deserves that status. Firstly, the structure seems to be all over the place, with plot lines and characters being dropped or forgotten about in favour of other story lines. Most notably, after Ralph first finds the corpse, Mistress Banham's nephew arrives home with his wife to be, much to the Mistress'  distress. Not allowing her nephew to sleep in the same room as his betrothed, the Mistress makes her sleep alone in the attic. While in the attic she is attacked by a demon, which infects her and makes her a demon herself. As the Mistress comes in to attempt calm her down, she scratches the Mistress with her newly acquired claws which results in her being sent to a madhouse. That is the last time we see either the Mistress or her nephew's fiance for the rest of the film, and they are never mentioned again. While this may be the most egregious continuity error in the film, there are several others like it, making the film very messy, with little attention to detail. It is also painfully boring at times, with nothing interesting happening for long stretches, and when something does happen, it is extremely silly.

I know I may be a lone voice here, but I would say that other than its aesthetics, it is fairly unessential, except for those wishing to watch everything they can related to witchcraft and devilry. There is some fun to be had here, but there is more fun to be had watching Witchfinder General, The Wicker Man and, so I am informed, Race With the Devil. In the end, it simply does not live up to its reputation, and is best watched with one's tongue in one's cheek and a big cup of cynism.

5/10

Guest House Paradiso - 1999 - Adrian Edmondson

It is with a heavy heart that I write about Guest House Paradiso, the semi-official spinoff to British sitcom, Bottom. Both Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson, the film and TV show's stars and creators, have denied in the past that this is a spin-off from Bottom, but they cannot fool their audience. The style of humour is the same, the two lead characters are the same and they even dress the same, so, I regret to say, this is a spin-off of Bottom. The reason I say that I "regret to say" is because, whereas Bottom is arguably one of the finest sitcoms to come out of Britain in the 1990s, Guest House Paradiso is a turgid mess, and raises fewer laughs in its 85 minute running time then a single episode of Bottom could in a single sequence. Indeed, the only thing that makes this a "semi-official" spinoff is that the characters' last names are changed. In the show, Rik Mayall plays "Richie Richie", here he is named "Richie Twat" (although he insists it is pronounced "Thwait"), and in the show Adrian Edmondson plays "Edward Elizabeth Hitler", here he is named "Edward Elizabeth Ndingombaba".

In this spinoff, Richie and Eddie run a guest house in a remote part of England, neighboured only by poorly maintained nuclear power plants. A guest house which is regarded as being the worst in the UK, so much so that even the locals deny its existence. The few guests in the house are unhappy with Richie and Eddie constantly getting into bone-crunching, slapstick fights, so they leave in their droves. The depraved duo think their days are numbered until an Italian movie star named Gina Carbonara (Helene Mahieu), who ran away from Italy the day before her wedding, decides to stay at their grotty hotel. Yes, the extent of the humour does come down to an Italian character being named after a pasta dish. Hardy bloody har!

In dissecting what is exactly wrong with Guest House Paradiso, one has to look at the problems in the awful last half, compared to the problems in the merely bad first half. Firstly, what is apparent within the opening moments of the film is that this is Bottom by way of Fawlty Towers, and the structure which made Bottom work is missing. As Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson should know, a comedy duo works because of how well the two actors bounce off each other, and how much chemistry they share. In all seriousness, the supporting cast in any comedy duo is an unnecessary filler to the two leads. Bottom was no different, and the dynamism of Eddie constantly insulting Richie, was what made the show work. Especially since Richie has an overweening superiority complex, to the point where we are hoping Eddie will take him down a peg or two. Then, on the flip side, Eddie's alcoholism meant that Richie often got the chance to get his own back. They hate each other, but they need each other, and that wonderful comic contrast has been keeping comedy double acts going throughout history. Think, for example of Peter Cook and Dudley Moore, or even of Albert and Harry Steptoe. So, quite why they thought it would be a good idea to keep Richie and Eddie apart for so long is beyond comprehension. They are frankly boring on their own, and there is just no way that they can carry a film without each other. Instead, Rik Mayall comes across as if he is doing a feeble impression of John Cleese in Fawlty Towers and Adrian Edmondson may as well not be there for all the difference his lack of appearance makes.

However, the reason people watch products associated with Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson is the slapstick fighting which, during their prime, they were unrivalled , with a great kinetic energy. So how does it stack up here? Well, it is fine, when it does appear at all, but Richie and Eddie spend so much of the film apart, we never really get to wallow in their mindless violence, and when we do it is all too brief. These moments are the only moments which raise even a semblance of a smile, but probably more due to do nostalgic feelings for the show than the fights themselves, which are slow and lack kinetic energy; which I put down to the ageing of the two actors. There is also a lack of the gloriously silly and smutty double-entendres, which could not help raising a giggle on the show. Here, despite there being a couple of nice one liners, nothing quite comes to the level of, "Hey, you know why they call Ginger Rogers, Ginger Rogers, don't you?"/"Yeah, because that was her name!" 

All this would be fine, yet thoroughly mediocre, if this was how the rest of the film played out, but it is not. When Richie and Eddie split , it simply becomes vulgar, to the point where we find them loathsome. The rest of the film is concerned with Richie attempting to seduce Gina Carbonara, and Eddie doing, well, nothing much. However, it is not until the point where the hotel staff feed their guests radioactive fish where things become truly awful. Most of the climax involves Richie and Eddie attempting to avoid rivers of vomit shooting from the guests' rooms. It is not as if Bottom was not vulgar, but it was also very funny, and the limits of what the BBC would allow them to do meant there was some restraint. Any vomit, for example, was all off screen and the worst swear word that was ever uttered was, "Shit". There is also the problem that the majority of the guests are played straight, which makes Richie's barbs towards them seem viciously cruel. In the show, even background characters were as broad as the two leads, often with names like 'Dave Hedgehog', 'Dick Head' or 'Harry the Bastard'. In that case it meant that Richie's and Eddie's dastardly schemes could be seen as just some typical sitcom humour, as they were tricking characters as dastardly as themselves. In fact, the climax in its entirety is a grave misstep, as Richie and Eddie essentially murder their guests with the poisoned fish, which is far worse than anything they had done in Bottom.

However, most baffling of all is the appearance of Vincent Cassel as Gina's jilted fiance, Gino Bolognese (please, contain your sides from splitting). The French sex symbol himself, star of such art house films as La Haine, Black Swan and Mesrine: Part 1 and 2, plays the most outrageous Italian stereotype, and seems to be embarrassed by every second he is on screen. One just imagines the phone call he shared with director and co-star, Adrian Edmondson, who must have offered him a lot of money to be seen on screen throwing up a 10-foot ball of vomit, only to then be killed off by being pushed out of a window whilst screaming, "I only wanted a shag!"

In conclusion, Edmondson and Mayall confirm that they have lost what talent they had, and have run two characters who were once fresh and amusing into the ground. This is to be avoided at all costs, and if one wants to watch anything which involves both Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson, track down the TV series of Bottom on DVD.

3/10

Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer - 1986 - John McNaughton

Occasionally, as a film critic, the task of giving an objective rating out of ten can be tricky. If you rate something five or below, it suggests you did not like it. Rate it six or above, and this suggests you did enjoy it, regardless of any misgivings or mixed feelings you may have about the work in question. Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, for me, is one such case, as I am still unsure of whether I actually liked it or not. Its portrayal of Henry Lee Lucas, the real-life serial killer whose crimes this is based on, made me feel very uncomfortable, to the point where I thought I could not finish watching it. My initial reaction was that it oozed cruelty, and while it was noble to portray the life of a serial killer realistically, with an unflinching eye to his crimes, the ends did not justify the means. It was roughly an hour later, only after the film was finished, that I knew that was exactly how I was meant to feel, and that my feelings of disgust and discomfort were not towards the film but towards the character's actions.

Made for only $100,000 in 1986, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer would not be seen until 1989, as the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) deemed it was too violent to receive an R-rating and that no amount of cuts could fix this. There was also the problem that the executive producers simply did not like the film and had no clue how to go about marketing it for general audiences. Luckily, it saw the light of day during a successful run of screenings at film festivals throughout 1989, which led to its theatrical release in 1990. It would go on to take six times its production cost at the box-office, and would garner favourable reviews from critics who praised the film's realism.

In terms of plotting, it is fairly simple. Henry (Michael Rooker) lives with a local drug dealer named Otis (Tom Towles), both of whom come across as typical white trash. One day, Otis' sister, Becky (Tracy Arnold), comes to live with them both, and immediately a tension grows between her and Henry. For her it is sexual, but she is not aware of his other murders (the murder of his mother she disregards having suffered sexual abuse from her father), and she finds him attractive. For Henry, the tension is less certain. Is he attracted to her? Does he want to kill her? The film does not answer until the last scene, and the ambiguity is what draws in Becky, and us as an audience. Otis on the other hand, is a different story. When he finds out about what Henry does, he wants in, and Henry takes him under his wing, teaching him how to be a successful serial killer.

In terms of performances, it is unfortunately hit and miss. Michael Rooker, for example, as Henry is stunning. It is no wonder that he became such a popular genre actor, because his presence and his cold-eyed stare are terrifying. He comes across a little like a young Anthony Perkins, and whenever he is on screen his charisma sucks you in so you want to find out more. Unfortunately Tom Towles, as Otis and Tracy Arnold, as Becky, are fairly amateurish. They are never awful, but they are just  not interesting screen presences; making their scenes dull to watch.  

However, its biggest strength comes from its realism, especially tackling its representation of serial killers. Unlike most exploitation films which were released during the 70s and 80s, this film refuses to glorify Henry in the hopes of shocking the audience; nor does it attempt to explain his actions. Instead it presents his killings as everyday, and normal for the life of Henry. This is very wise as, not only would this be how someone like Henry would see themselves, it also allows the audience a way in to his character to attempt to find out more. What also works is the fact that we never actually see Henry murder anyone until the last half of the movie, and when we finally do, it is all the more shocking because of how hard the viewer has worked to find any sort of remorse in Henry. Director John McNaughton has allowed us to burrow into Henry's mind, and that is where he traps us; keeping us there, squirming and wriggling in discomfort until the closing credits begin to play.

One such scene comes towards the last third of the movie, where Henry and Otis film themselves on a camcorder murdering a family of three. We watch through the viewfinder as Henry rests the camera down, and murders a young boy and his father. He then allows Otis to crack the neck of the mother as if it were a chicken's neck. We then pull back to reveal Otis and Henry playing the cassette of the murders we have just witnessed on their VCR. However awful we already felt, we now feel worse having known that we are watching this in the same way that Henry intended Otis to watch it.

For the sake of a disclaimer, it must be said that this movie is based more on the crimes Henry Lee Lucas claimed to have perpetrated, rather than the actual case. Like many serial killers, Henry Lee Lucas wanted media attention, so he began confessing to every unsolved murder brought before him. This was seen as a golden opportunity for the police, who saw a chance to clear out all their cold case files that they no longer had time to investigate. So in the film, Henry kills many people in the brief 88 minute running time, whereas in real life he was charged with eleven murders, but it could be as low as two, according to some experts on the case.

So, how in the end can I rate this? I certainly admire the film for not attempting to sugar coat a serial killer. However, I cannot really say I enjoyed watching it, and struggled to get all the way through it. The best I can do is to say I recommend it, and leave it with a rating which suggests I found it problematic, but still recommendable. My verdict is that for those with a strong tolerance for this kind of thing, you may get a lot out of it and enjoy it more than I did.

6/10

The Awakening - 2011 - Nick Murphy

It seems that 2011 was a fairly successful year for old-fashioned horror cinema, with The Woman in Black grossing over one-hundred-and-ten million dollars worldwide and becoming the most successful horror movie at the UK box-office since records began. On the more modest end of the classical horror scale is The Awakening, which, as of yet has no US release date and has grossed only three million dollars worldwide. However, both films' success in terms of picture quality is potentially important as an antidote to "found footage" horror movies like the Paranormal Activity franchise, as it could mean more films like The Awakening could be made in the future.

It is 1921, and over 1.5 million people have been wiped out in the proceeding five or six years due to The Great War and a flu epidemic, leaving people very superstitious and believing in the supernatural. Rebecca Hall plays Florence Cathcart, an author and a scientific sceptic, hellbent on debunking those who manipulate peoples' fear of the supernatural to take their money. She is visited by Robert Malory (Dominic West) a teacher from a boarding school, who requests that she investigate the story of a ghost at the school and whether or not it is related to the recent death of a student.

What is immediately apparent is how Florence is presented as part of a new generation of women receiving university education and who are not now slaves of the home. In one of the first scenes of the film, she is seen wearing trousers, and the mere fact that she has been educated comes up often, mostly in a disdainful tone by some of the other staff at the boarding school. However, the strange thing about this is that educated women with a changing sense of fashion is so rare in films set in the late 19th or early 20th-Century that, at first, it makes one wonder why more films do not portray this important social change. Although, it must be said, that while characters such as Florence have been poorly represented in the media, one place where such examples can be found are in this particular sub-genre of gothic horror. Think, for example of Laura in The Orphanage, played by Belén Rueda, or Eleanor in the 1963 film, The Haunting, played by Julie Harris.

Unfortunately, the highest hurdle which The Awakening must overcome is its derivativeness. Everything from the structuring, to the characterisation comes across as something that has been done time and time again, only this time it is less effective. Its plotting seems to have been cobbled together from the plots of The Sixth Sense, The Orphanage, The Haunting and The Others (to name a few). Even the gothic building where most of the action takes place seems to be the type of old, gothic building we have seen before. To its credit, it manages to come out as not overly derivative due to when it is set, and the lead performance by Rebecca Hall.

To elaborate, by setting it only a few years after The Great War means the film is able to explore the psychology of grief quite expertly. For example, after Florence first exposes a group of hoaxers, the woman who was being conned slaps Florence in the face and states, "You've never had children, have you?" This is interesting, as it shows that in this time where death hangs over everything, people would rather be given false hope than no hope. Florence herself, far from believing her own scepticism, believes that if she debunks enough charlatans, she may find real evidence of paranormal activity. Like most people at this time in history, she has lost someone she loved and beneath her confident exterior lies a person riddled with grief and loneliness. Horror, like sci-fi, really works best when the external horror magnifies a deeper, psychological internal horror; which Rebecca Hall manages to present in Florence as someone whose loneliness causes her to unravel. One scene which is particularly impressive is when she is bathing and she notices there is a peep hole in the wall of the bathroom; she knows this because earlier in the film she used it to sneak a look at Robert while he was bathing. She momentarily allows her loneliness to consume her, drops her towel, and looks towards the peep hole as she thinks Robert may be using it too. It turns out Robert is not actually there, but it is a fantastic moment for Hall who manages to come across as grief stricken, but not weak for giving in to lust and loneliness.

However, the film only manages to keep its momentum going for the first two-thirds of its running time, and even when it does work it is only tense, never terrifying. Firstly, the last half-an-hour of the movie begins with an attempted rape, as Florence is exploring the grounds of the school. She is confronted by the groundkeeper, Mr. Judd. It is hinted at that Mr. Judd faked an injury to dodge the draft, and he is also shifty, so of course he must be a vile rapist. Firstly, this is a toxic trope used by filmmakers to cynically give more sympathy towards the heroine, who is already under enough pressure so, naturally, she has our sympathy. Secondly, it shows a stunning lack of knowledge of the criminal intent, and the psychology of rape. In films it is always a crime perpetrated by slimy, shifty men; never suave, sophisticated men who use their charms to manipulate - which is what many of the people who inflict sexual violence are. It is a venomous and manipulative trope which plagues anything from trash for teenagers (like Stephanie Meyers' Twilight series) to art-house, award contenders (like Peter Webber's Girl With a Pearl Earring or Jane Campion's The Piano). If these filmmakers really believed in this trope, they would not make it the action of the least developed characters in their respective films. At least, Florence manages to rescue herself, and not be rescued.

Also, the ending pulls a few too many twists to be convincing, all of which come across as convoluted and silly. Thankfully, Rebecca Hall is  dedicated to her performance throughout and never allows the silly ending or manipulative attempted rape scene affect her performance. Also, director Nick Murphy manages to make two-thirds of an excellent film, which for a debut filmmaker is fairly impressive and is "one to watch". Overall, a single excellent performance and an interesting concept manage to convince us for roughly an-hour before things go badly wrong. 

6/10

Into the Abyss - 2011 - Werner Herzog

"Tell me about the encounter with a squirrel"; this is Werner Herzog's final question to the Texas Death House chaplain, who ministers to prisoners before they are to be executed. Before this point the chaplain has acted very coldly about the time he spends with these men in their final moments. The chaplain darts away from the tougher questions, instead talking about the serenity he finds playing golf, and about the animals he sees on the golf course, like, for example, squirrels. Finally, Herzog sees a chink in the chaplain's armour; an eccentricity that magnifies his humanity. Herzog prods, and the chaplain mentions a moment where he almost ran over a group of squirrels with his golf cart, and how in that moment he held those creatures' lives in his hands. In that moment, Herzog has exposed his humanity and the chaplain begins to weep and reveals how, unlike a golf cart, he cannot stop these people from being executed. 

At the centre of the picture, Herzog focuses on a triple murder in the small Texas city of Conroe. In 2001, Michael Perry and Jason Aaron Burkett murdered a middle-aged housewife, Sandra Stotler, who was the mother of a mutual acquaintance of theirs, all so they could steal her car. When they found out they did not have the alarm code to drive out of the gated community in which she lived, they called their acquaintance, who arrived home with a friend of theirs. When they arrived they killed them both and disposed their bodies in the woods. Several days later, after a shoot-out with the police, the killers were arrested and confessed shortly after. Burckett was sentenced to life imprisonment, and Perry was sentenced to death.

Herzog subtitles his film, A Tale of Death, A Tale of Life, as he is primarily interested in the lives of the people affected by capital punishment, and not by capital punishment as a whole. Throughout the course of the film, he never once talks to a government official on decisions regarding incarceration, or the death penalty. Instead he talks to those who are incarcerated, their friends and families, the families of the victims and those whose lives and careers revolve around capital punishment (such as the chaplain). It is clear from the outset that this is not an exposé, but a celebration of life, from the very old to the very young. Among Herzog's interviewees is Jason Aaron Burckett's father, who is also serving a life sentence. Burckett's father tells Herzog how he pleaded to the jury not to take away his son "who had trash for a father". It is moments like this that remind us that even people who do evil things can affect those around them, no matter how much we want to think of them as simply "trash".

However, this does not mean that Herzog is giving either Michael Perry or Jason Aaron Burckett an easy time, and he certainly is not attempting to elicit sympathy for their actions, just their punishment. He utterly despises the death penalty but he knows that these men are, when you burrow deep enough,  evil minded. Burkett is a handsome, charismatic man, and quite clearly sociopathic. Perry, on the other hand, is a cowardly, loathsome, weasel faced man. Within a minute of meeting Perry, Herzog tells him, in a matter of fact tone:  "I don't have to like you, but you are a human being". Moments like this, when he interviews these two men, is an attempt to dissect the nihilism of the crime and of the perpetrators, which in contrast to the soulful, tearful interviews of the victims families, creates a wider picture on the value of life.

Structurally, the film has six chapters,  with each chapter title relating to the precise element of the tragedy ('The Dark Side of Death', for example). So it treats death as almost a contradiction, something which battles with life and in the end we will all lose. One of the interviews is conducted in the graveyard outside of the death house, each grave marked only with numbers, not names. This is spookily reminiscent of grave sites for fallen soldiers in the First World War, who died without any means of identification; they are no longer men with personalities, they are merely serial numbers. This is also true of the epilogue, where Herzog speaks with Fred Allen, a man who presided over 125 executions, as part of a team who would strap the condemned to their gurneys and make sure they are killed as quickly and efficiently as possible. He remarks how, with a lot of practice and professionalism, he can strap someone into a gurney in fifteen-seconds. He tells Herzog how, after the execution of Carla Faye Tucker, he simply could not take another life. "No sir," Allen weeps, "nobody has the right to take another life."

Thankfully, it is not all quite so maudlin throughout the epilogue. Jason Aaron Burckett's wife reveals that she is pregnant with his child (it is suggested that this was achieved through some contraband semen being sent out of the prison) she beams and shows Herzog the ultrasound of her baby. Despite knowing whose seed this child came from, it is still a moment of joy, and contrasts with the thought that the same man who could, with Michael Perry, take the lives of three people can also create life. It is perhaps an uncomfortable contrast, but one cannot help feeling that Herzog's goal is to praise life, in all its forms, whether good, bad or evil, has for the most part been achieved. This is especially true considering how death seems to linger over everyone being interviewed. For example, the sister of one of the victims says how, in a 6-year span, she lost her brother, her mother, her uncle and her father (the latter two due to an accident and natural causes). Earlier, when Herzog interviews the brother of the third victim, he asks what the two teardrops tattooed to his face symbolise, he tells him that they symbolise his brother and sister's death (the latter due to an accident). However, in both cases, they remark how those deaths have caused them to be stronger for their children and loved ones. 

While it is not a perfect film, it manages to be by turns both bleak and optimistic, showing death as a contrast to life. Herzog has chosen his case carefully, as he knows that the nihilism which imbues these two men is self defeating, and the murders they committed cannot erase the decency that exists in the families of the people they killed. Well worth seeking out, it is one of the best documentaries of 2011.

8/10

Away We Go - 2009 - Sam Mendes

As the opening credits of Away We Go play some viewers may find themselves surprised to see that Sam Mendes directed this. Something about the film's thrift store style costumes, modest production values and quirky humour feels like a departure from Mendes' usual glossy style and closer to something which would have come out as part of the "mumblecore" movement of the early-2000s. However, make no mistake, this is a Sam Mendes product through and through, with a script written by husband-and-wife team Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida; both of whom are celebrated authors and make their debut here as screenwriters.

Expecting their first child, Burt (John Krasinski) and Verona (Maya Rudolph) find themselves dissatisfied with their current living situation, especially since Burt's self-involved parents (Jeff Daniels and Catherine O'Hara) have decided to move to Antwerp, Belgium a month before the child's birth and wont be there to support them. Burt and Verona, frustrated at Burt's parents' selfishness, see that this is an opportunity to explore North America to find somewhere else to raise their child.

It is here, in these opening scenes where the first cracks in the Away We Go' premise begin to show, and it spends its entire 94-minute running time straddling sweet and smug in its attitude. Unfortunately, the premise of just picking up and moving to a different place was a fantasy which became an impossibility when the recession really took hold in America in 2008 and 2009; meaning the film comes across as dated upon release. Burt and Verona are shown as being on the edge of poverty, as their apartment's electricity blows out as Burt attempts to plug in an electric heater. So, it begs the question "how are they financing their trip and how will they support themselves when they find a place to live?" These questions are never answered, but Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida seem to be more concerned selling us a fantasy then telling a realistic story.

What certainly works is the chemistry between Burt and Verona, a couple who begin the film in love with each other, and end the film still in love. Their relationship is never in question and they remain in love throughout the film. One could argue that a couple whose love in never in question is simply melodrama, and robs the viewer of a dynamic centre, but their chemistry comes across as natural and lived in. John Krasinski as Burt and Maya Rudolph as Verona have an easy going chemistry and never come across as anything other than totally devoted to one another, but it is Rudolph who is the best; managing to find depths in her character that the script does not provide. For example, it is revealed early in the film that Verona's parents died when she was very young, and her having this baby brings back childhood memories of how loving her parents were. It is never explicitly said, but Rudolph's performance carries over an extremely touching internal concern that she will never live up to her parents' example.

As the happy couple continue on their journey they stop off and meet relatives, friends and acquaintances. The first two encounters are rather broad stereotypes of poor parents: Verona's course, tactless ex-colleague, Lily (an entertaining Allison Janney), who openly insults her daughter as looking "dykeish"; and LN (Maggie Gylenhaal), a hippyish earth mother and childhood friend of Burt's. Fortunately for the film, the other encounters are subtler and sweeter; like Verona's sister Grace (Carmen Ejogo), or Burt's brother Courtney (Paul Schneider), both of whom manage to elicit scenes of pathos and character development for Burt and Verona. However, best of all these encounters is Tom (Chris Messina) and Garnett (Melanie Lynskey), a couple who Burt knew in college and are now married with three adopted children. When the two couples go out to a bar, which is hosting an "amateur dance night", in which Garnett is an active participant. As her dance becomes more mournful, Tom reveals to Burt that Garnett has suffered her fifth miscarriage and that as much as Munch loves her adopted children, something feels missing. Why this scene works can be attributed to Melanie Lynskey, who is one of the finest character actors in her age group. She manages to express so much when she dances that even without Tom's explanation to Burt we would have guessed something was wrong. It works so well that one wishes that the broader encounters from earlier had dialled back their performances just a notch.

However, the final third of the film seems to collapse under its own weight, finally giving in to the smug attitude which runs through the films core. Sam Mendes' direction is easy going and takes its time to tell the story, yet there is a bitter feeling to how Burt and Verona react when they find out that each couple they meet is not as perfect as they are. There is also a feeling that the style of the film is derivative of popular independent films which were released just a year or two before it. For example, the soundtrack is performed by alternative folk star Alexi Murdoch, and his feeble strumming guitar playing throughout sounds like it would not be out of place in Juno, Little Miss Sunshine or Garden State. Unfortunately this means that the film never really crafts an identity of its own, instead feeling like just another indie-hipster comedy drama with superficially quirky characters and a soundtrack that would not sound out of place playing from a university student's ipod. 

It seems like a missed opportunity for Mendes, who made this film mere months after completing Revolutionary Road, which told a cynical tale about the American dream failing in the 1950s. Here he tells an optimistic story about love, optimism and the American landscape as something hopeful, but while it is amusing and the central couple are played pitch perfectly, the air of smugness lingers throughout.

6/10