Image by Erik Reichenbach from Pixabay Horror and comedy are two genres that I have written about a good deal at this point on the blog. Regarding the former, I’ve expressed my general discontent with the genre as a whole, shared my love of some horror classics (including Hitchcock’s Psycho and Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby), and talked about great modern horror flicks like Jordan Peele’s Get Out. Regarding the latter, I’ve dissected various comedic subgenres like coming-of-age movies and black comedies.
In my examination of both genres, I’ve come to firmly believe that they are polar opposites in terms of tone, style, and intention. Whereas most horror movies set out to frighten and unsettle the audience to the point of either turning them away or gluing their eyes to the screen, comedies generally aim to induce such magical bursts of laughter in the audience that we struggle to keep our eyes fixated on the screen from laughing so much. So, with the Halloween season coming to a close, I thought to myself: “What is it about movies merging these two genres together that can work so well?” That’s what today’s blog is all about: my love of horror comedies. Why do I love them? I guess you’ll have to keep reading to find out… 😉 Shaun of the Dead (2004) For my thoughts on Shaun of the Dead overall, click here. As one of my favorite Edgar Wright films, Shaun of the Dead is a prime example of blending genres to tremendous effect. In many ways, it works just as well as a zombie horror movie as it does a zany British comedy. A lot of this successful blend comes down to Wright’s direction with regards to the editing, use of music, and action choreography. What makes Shaun of the Dead a scary movie? For one thing, it embraces many of the most effective tropes of the zombie genre when it comes to getting the audience to jump out of their seats. From a number of effective scares with the zombies to racketing up the tension in the pivotal action sequences (notably the climactic scene at the Winchester pub), there are plenty of terror-inducing moments throughout the film. However, what is arguably the scariest part of Wright’s approach to this story is how he teases the oncoming zombie apocalypse in the film’s first act. The audience watches Shaun go about his day in much the same way he would any other day, and yet people are already acting like zombies due to the mundanity of their lives. But once the outbreak has hit, Wright crafts almost the exact same shot but now highlighting how Shaun obliviously walks through a destroyed neighborhood ridden with the undead. That level of visual storytelling is (in my humble opinion) unmatched in any of Wright’s other movies and even in many zombie movies of this century. So, what makes Shaun of the Dead funny? Wright’s trademarks of his filmmaking, but specifically his “Three Flavours Cornetto” trilogy, are his snappy editing (specifically during action sequences) to inject levity during action sequences and his ability to bring out some great chemistry between his Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. And that is arguably truer nowhere else but in Shaun of the Dead. Whether it be watching Shaun (Pegg) and Ed (Frost) bicker over how to survive in their crummy apartment or seeing their personalities play off of the rest of the cast while in the middle of killing zombies, Wright strikes this balance between scares and laughs better than most comedies can even aspire to. All in all, Shaun of the Dead is a worthy example of what the best of the “horror comedy” subgenre can be due to its effective parody of both genres from one of the better Western filmmakers working today. Zombieland (2009) To preface this section, Ruben Fleischer’s horror comedy directorial debut Zombieland is one of my favorite movies of this century. So, I am very much biased in favor of this movie as it was a formative film of my adolescence and holds up for me as (arguably) the prime example of what can be done when blending comedy with horror. As a horror flick, Zombieland has some genuinely terrifying scenes (notably the flashback apartment scene and the climactic fight at Pacific Playland) that, similar to Shaun of the Dead, remind me just how scary zombies could be if they were real. And this film is a great showcase for how effective zombies are as an antagonist in a horror flick. I think much of this believability (in my humble opinion) comes from the convincing make-up work done on the zombie extras and the choreography; these elements combined make for some exhilarating action and thrill-inducing scares despite how much this movie is a comedy at its core. Also, much in the way that other zombie movies like 28 Days Later or Shaun of the Dead do, Zombieland builds its world (specifically how it fell apart) in such a fun and exciting fashion. That opening credits sequence—a mish-mash of zombies attacking humans set to Metallica’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls”—is one of the most iconic openings to a movie in the 2000s. Prove me wrong. 😉 All that being said, however, Zombieland is in my mind undoubtedly a comedy movie first and foremost. Despite the horror elements, the movie embraces a zany spirit and fast-paced, character-driven story that relies much more on laughs to keep the audience’s attention. One of my favorite recurring bits in the film is the “rules” of survival by Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg), which are all timed to damn-near comedic perfection with each of their respective scenes. Furthermore, while some of the zombie scenes are scary, Fleischer’s direction excessively leans into making fun of the zombies (and the survivors killing/running from them) with over-the-top, blood-and-gore-rich kills that is less for horror and more for hilarity. But the emotional (and comedic) core of Zombieland (in my humble opinion) is the chemistry among the cast. From Columbus’s angsty mentor-mentee dynamic with Twinkie-obsessed Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson) to his quirky but sweet burgeoning romance with strong-willed Wichita (Emma Stone), not to mention Wichita’s sisterly bond with Little Rock (Abigail Breslin), this is such a memorable ensemble of actors that excel in their respective roles and play off each other so well. I don’t think I need to say anymore. If you’re looking for an extremely funny horror flick this Halloween, you absolutely cannot go wrong with Zombieland. Happy Death Day (2017) Going into watching Christopher Landon’s 2017 slasher comedy Happy Death Day, all I knew about it was that the main character’s name was Tree and that it was essentially a rip-off of Groundhog Day. And while both of these statements are correct, to reduce this film to those two facts alone is (in my humble opinion) a gross understatement of just how damn fun it is to watch. For those unfamiliar with Happy Death Day or Groundhog Day, the basic premise is that Theresa “Tree” Gelbman (Jessica Rothe), a rude and selfish college student, is killed the night of her birthday by a masked assailant before waking up the morning of her birthday again. Once she realizes what is going on, she gets to work solving the mystery behind her killer’s identity along with the help of her one-night stand Carter Davis (Israel Broussard). While I would argue that this movie is barely a horror film, it certainly leans into elements of the “slasher” genre that other classics such as Halloween popularized and Scream lampooned. The ambience of the movie’s kill scenes emulate the tradition of the “slasher” movie in terms of a masked killer hiding from view of their victim yet (mostly) clearly in plain sight to the audience. Furthermore, this film straight-up apes the core of Harold Ramis’s Groundhog Day that I think is horror but of a different stripe. For Tree’s crisis of living the same day over again (in addition to the stress of finding out who her killer is) plays right into the existential horror that makes Groundhog Day as much a philosophical exploration as it does a classic 90s comedy. But as I said, Happy Death Day is barely a horror movie and is much more a comedy. Rothe’s central performance balances a bold zaniness with just the right amount of charm to make us care about her predicament without ever fully empathizing with her until the third act. Similar to the next movie I’ll be talking about, the writing and direction here allow for Rothe to shine in so many scenes (notably the montage scene where she intentionally dies multiple times to discover the identity of her killer) to make her likeable in spite of her less attractive personality traits. On top of that, this movie embraces the best comedic beats of a time-loop film like Groundhog Day by showing just how funny it is to watch someone psychologically break from living the same day over and over again for an obscene amount of time. Easily my favorite parts of Groundhog Day are watching Bill Murray’s character slowly yet surely confront his own insignificance by going through this what-would-be incredibly traumatic experience, and that is just as true in Happy Death Day with Tree. While this movie does not rely as much on scaring the audience as other horror films of the past decade, Happy Death Day is well worth 96 minutes watching it because it’s such a fun time (and, truth be told, the sequel’s actually pretty good, too!). While it may not be an original concept or have a distinctive identity compared to films like Shaun of the Dead or Zombieland, it can still go head-to-head with the best of the modern horror comedies for just how much it’ll make you laugh. Ready or Not (2019) While Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland arguably lean a good deal into scares, Ready or Not might be the scariest movie that I’m discussing today. It just so happens to also be quite funny, which makes it that much better than it could’ve been otherwise. Ready or Not tells the story of newlywed Grace (Samara Weaving), whose recent admission into the wealthy Le Domas Family Games company after marrying Alex Le Domas (Mark O’Brien) comes with some strings attached. On the night of Grace and Alex’s wedding, the family participates in the tradition of having the newest member of their family choose a game for them to play. Unbeknownst to her what this will entail, Grace randomly draws “Hide-and-Seek” which sets her on an unexpected path of having to survive the night with her new in-laws. Unlike Happy Death Day, Ready or Not works just as well as a horror movie as it does a comedy. For starters, the efforts of the Le Domas family members hunting for Grace often culminate in some pretty intense face-offs and effective jump scares. Of course, these scenes would not be as terrifying as they are if not for the cultish devotion of the Le Domas family to find Grace. Until the final ten to fifteen minutes of the movie, the audience is unaware as to their true motivations for putting Grace through it all and yet it is evident from the get-go that their stalwart dedication to their mission. The cherry on top, however, is Samara Weaving’s convincingly terrified performance. Once she realizes what is going on, she never relents in her sheer terror of what is happening to her and how, no matter what she does, the Le Domas family seem to be one step ahead of her. On the flip side, Weaving’s compelling fright has an incredibly funny side to it by the fact that, multiple times during the runtime, she acknowledges how absurd her situation is as a way to cope with it. While not as on-the-nose of commentary as a movie like Scream, I LOVE that her character reminds the audience how ridiculous the film’s premise is in a way that is believable and entertaining. What is NOT believable, however, is the violence and the third-act reveal. Regarding the former, the kills in Ready or Not very much evokes the over-the-top blood and gore seen in the films of Quentin Tarantino which, while absurdly unrealistic at times, can be quite fun to watch and anticipate. Regarding the latter, I found it virtually impossible to buy into the climactic twist regarding the Le Domas family’s history of this ritual. However, I was able to give into my disbelief in order to just enjoy the utter ridiculousness of what was happening. If you’re looking for an effective horror movie with scary moments and intense fight scenes that injects some really great, tension-relieving humor, then Ready or Not is the movie for you this Halloween night. Certainly, these four movies only capture a slice of the pie that horror comedies occupy in the grander history of cinema. From older classics such as The Invisible Man, Young Frankenstein, and An American Werewolf in London to modern additions like Scream and The Cabin in the Woods, filmmakers throughout the decades have tackled this seemingly impossible blending of polar-opposite genres to tremendous effect. Many cinephiles and film critics recently have identified the “renaissance” that the horror genre has gone through over the last few years. As we get further into the 2020s, I can only hope that a sizeable element of this “renaissance” is the production of many more great horror comedies like the ones I wrote about today. Which of these horror comedies is your favorite (or least favorite)? Do you believe that horror and comedy can blend as well as I think they do? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst
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Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20 from Pixabay Today marks the release of Last Night in Soho, the newest film from beloved British director Edgar Wright. While I did not grow up watching and loving his films, I have recently become a huge fan of Wright’s directorial style and sensibilities. From his signature use of music and sound design to his distinctive editing style and sense of humor, Wright is undeniably one of the fan-favorite directors of the 21st century despite only making six feature films (seven if you count his 1995 low-budget Western comedy A Fistful of Fingers). And with Wright entering unfamiliar territory with a psychological horror flick & period piece, I figured it was a great time to look back at his other films.
So, without further ado…LET’S GET STARTED! Shaun of the Dead (2004) There are arguably two films in the early 2000s that kickstarted the modern zombie movie more than anything else: Danny Boyle’s 2002 horror movie 28 Days Later and Edgar Wright’s 2004 comedy flick Shaun of the Dead. While both made less at the box office than Zack Snyder’s Dawn of the Dead remake, they laid a solid foundation for many of the tropes that the genre has continued to exploit—and lampoon—to this day. But, in my humble opinion, Shaun of the Dead is not only one of the best zombie films ever made but remains one of my personal favorites of Edgar Wright’s filmography. This movie excels at being so many types of movies. First off, its seamless blend of laughs and scares is arguably unmatched by most horror comedies to this day. Wright’s director excellently injects humor within intensive scenes of zombie thrills to help alleviate the stress and remind us that we’re watching a comedy flick (not that we need much reminding since this movie is incredibly funny). And what I love most about Wright’s efforts blurring the lines of genre is that they are about more than just keeping the audience on its toes. Rather, he plays it smart by highlighting, critiquing, and yet still embracing the tropes and pitfalls of a zombie movie. From fake-out kills and meaningful character deaths to reminding us that most people (at least in Britain) are not intimately familiar with firearms, Wright’s ceaseless parody never fails to amuse and amaze me simultaneously. Of course, one of the consistent strengths of Wright’s “Three Flavours Cornetto” trilogy (in which Shaun of the Dead marks the first of the three) is the endearing and palpable chemistry between Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. And it is arguably the best in this movie due to the character arc of Pegg’s character, the aimless and unambitious Shaun, coming to appreciate his friendship with Frost’s Ed while also learning the importance of striking a balance with his girlfriend Liz (Kate Ashfield). Being Wright’s first major feature film, Shaun of the Dead also holds up as a prime example of Wright’s eye for editing and sound. His uncanny ability to choreograph action sequences to classic rock songs (notably Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now”) makes for great comedy as well as an expertly-crafted example of music’s significant role in making film a piece of art. And while I firmly believe that some of Wright’s later films do this better, this film certainly stands the test of time in this respect. All in all, Shaun of the Dead has sustained a legacy in cinema and pop culture as a great example of genre-blending comedy that transcends cultures so that anyone can watch it and enjoy it on some level. For me, it’s a movie I loved since the first time I saw it and I imagine myself revisiting it every few years just to have some good, old-fashioned fun. Hot Fuzz (2007) Whereas Shaun of the Dead lampoons the foundational tropes and defining elements of the zombie genre, Hot Fuzz is a straight-up parody of the “buddy cop” flick akin to Point Break and Bad Boys II (while also being a loving homage to the genre). Certainly, much of the defining characteristics of Wright’s style shine once again in this film, but other aspects differentiate it from Shaun of the Dead and his movies that came after. For one thing, Hot Fuzz is self-referential at times (notably the fence-hopping scene involving Nick Frost’s character being called out by Simon Pegg’s character). I personally love when a director can pay respect to their own work without coming off as being up their own ass, and Wright does that and more by lovingly making fun of himself. Based on this alone, Wright comes off as the kind of guy who doesn’t take himself too seriously (at least around) which I appreciate from someone with his talents. I also really enjoyed how Wright flipped the dynamic of Pegg and Frost’s relationship in this movie compared to Shaun of the Dead. Pegg’s straight-man, headstrong policeman Nicholas Angel is the polar opposite of Shaun and Pegg makes it seem easy to play such different personalities. This has great comedic effect when played off of Frost’s doofus small-town lawman Danny Butterman who has a big heart but lacks competence and ambition to Nicholas’s liking. This dynamic shines through within the context of a buddy-cop parody and causes me to like both of these actors even more than I did in Shaun of the Dead. However, whereas I have virtually no complains about Wright’s first major film, I do not think that Hot Fuzz is as perfect as Shaun of the Dead in terms of what it’s striving for. First off, I always laugh out loud at the second-act reveal of the crazy cult in Sandford but it certainly lacks any sort of believability. Admittedly, zombies aren’t believable either. However, (in my humble opinion) Wright does a better job in Shaun of the Dead of grounding everything else in that movie (from the characters themselves to the consequences of their actions) than in Hot Fuzz once the third act gets going. Additionally, Hot Fuzz is a great example of Wright’s work that feels somewhat superfluous in light of Shaun of the Dead. In many ways, he is not doing anything different but instead doubling down on what was good about the latter to make the former (almost) just as good. But based on what he does in some of his later work, I just felt after watching this film that he could have strived to grow as a filmmaker and do something more. Nevertheless, Hot Fuzz is undeniably a good time and worth the watch despite some of these drawbacks. While not my personal favorite of Wright’s filmography, it holds up as a solid mid-2000s comedy and a well-executed genre parody that hits on almost everything it tries to do. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010) I remember feeling underwhelmed after my first viewing of Edgar Wright’s cinematic take on Brian Lee O’Malley’s Scott Pilgrim graphic novel character. Not associating Scott Pilgrim vs. the World with Wright at the time, I found the movie visually interesting but the story lacking any reason for me to care about what the characters were doing onscreen and why. But when I decided to revisit this movie recently for this blog, I was hopeful that I’d like it more. Unfortunately, it just isn’t for me. For starters, Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera) is (in my humble opinion) Wright’s first bland protagonist who lacks a distinctive personality or interesting motivations. And while Cera’s off-kilter awkward persona has worked before in films like Superbad or Juno, I just personally feel that he was miscast here. That being said, I did find myself appreciating the conclusion of his character arc on this rewatch as he ultimately learns to prioritize self-respect over true love which subverts what one might expect from this kind of one-of-a-kind take on a rom-com. But there are other things that hold me back from liking Scott Pilgrim vs. the World as much as I do any of his other films. Unlike Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz (whose budgets clock in at six and twelve million dollars, respectively), this is Wright’s first real big-budget flick (costing anywhere from 65 to 80 million dollars). And I feel like that much of a budget at this point in Wright’s career ended up being mor of a hinderance than additive in any positive way. Sure, the fight sequences are visually engaging due to their anime- and comic-book-inspired flare, but any good action movie needs an equally interesting story to be anything more than mediocre. And this film just does not live up to the promise of Scott Pilgrim and Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) as characters on their own or their romantic chemistry. Despite its flaws, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World still retains much of what makes Wright a genius in his own right. He continued honing his visual and auditory style here that will come into play going forward. At the end of the day, I do not stand by the belief that Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is a poorly-made movie. But it is lackluster when compared to much of Wright’s other work, and as such is not one that I care to revisit in the future. The World’s End (2013) Similar to Insomnia for Christopher Nolan or Jackie Brown for Quentin Tarantino, I feel like The World’s End is the “black sheep” or “middle child” or Edgar Wright’s filmography. Either people who call themselves fans of Wright’s work are unfamiliar with this movie, or they identify it as a bad film that should not have Wright’s name on it. I disagree with those people; I found The World’s End to be surprisingly enjoyable in spite of its flaws and do not think it deserves the negative or lackluster characterization that it has gotten since it came out. In my humble opinion, The World’s End is one of Wright’s most underrated flicks. Does it hold a candle to the likes of Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz, the other two parts of the “Cornetto” trilogy? Not at all, but that doesn’t mean it’s an utter piece of garbage either. I really enjoyed Simon Pegg and Nick Frost’ chemistry in this movie because it felt so much different from the characters they have played before for Wright. Yet, Pegg’s unlikeable alcoholic Gary King feels like another good variation on the personality types he’s done before. Whereas Shaun was unambitious and Nicholas was a strait-laced tight-ass, Gary is an out-and-out douchebag with a soft, mushy emotional core that has a great amount of vulnerability to it. Conversely, Nick Frost’s mature and emotionally reserved working stiff Andy Knightley allows him to emote more subtly and play a more nuanced character than in his prior outings in Wright’s movies. Despite how different these performances are, I still really enjoyed seeing Pegg and Frost play off each other in The World’s End. Sure, the dynamics of their friendship were pretty different. But it felt refreshing to see Wright create something new relative to the other two “Cornetto” flicks. And while the other parts of the ensemble cast (except Martin Freeman and Rosamund Pike) struggle to stand out here, I appreciated Wright venturing into somewhat different territory with his characters and world-building. However, The World’s End is far from perfect and in fact might be Wright’s most flawed story in terms of its structure and execution. First, the sci-fi twist in the first act should have worked just as much (if not more) than the horror twist in Robert Rodriguez’s From Dusk till Dawn, but it kind of fell flat at first. And (in my humble opinion) it rehashes much of what didn’t work for me about the crazy small-town cult plot of Hot Fuzz. Regarding the pacing of the film, the third act feels rushed and builds up to a climax that really comes out of nowhere. In a sense, I appreciated the utter absurdity of the last twenty-ish minutes of this movie. But that doesn’t mean it’s a well-paced or well-structured story. A small note, too: the title, The World’s End, sucks. It is undoubtedly Wright’s most uninspired title of any of his movies and he certainly should have taken another pass at that before finalizing the script. Could I come up with something better? … Maybe. 😊 At the end of the day, I liked watching The World’s End more than I thought I would. Despite its numerous flaws, it still has Wright’s signature aesthetic and approach to sound design that I love and I think Pegg’s and Frost’s back-and-forth deserves more respect. Is it Wright’s best movie? Not at all, but I liked it more than Scott Pilgrim vs. the World so it at least has that going for it. Baby Driver (2017) Funny story, I saw Scott Pilgrim vs. the World before Baby Driver but the latter made a much bigger impression on me. Is it because it’s a better movie in every conceivable way? Yes. Yes, it is. 😊 Not to resort to hyperbole, but Baby Driver is easily Wright’s magnum opus. Everything about it is the peak of his creative talents put on the silver screen. The characters, the action, the editing, the use of music and sound—it all comes together for a really fun ride and a genuinely great film. The integral nature of the soundtrack to the driving and shootout scenes makes for an insatiable visual feast without distracting the audience in a way that detracts from the story. As I am writing this before I have seen Last Night in Soho, I just do not see Wright topping himself from a technical standpoint. For moviegoers not intimately familiar with Wright’s work, I imagine the cast is the standout element of Baby Driver for them. Ansel Elgort as the charming yet naïve getaway driver Baby has such great chemistry with Lily James’s loveable “girl next door” Debora from start to finish. I also enjoyed every main member of the criminal crew for different reasons. Jon Hamm expertly transitions his character, Buddy, from a reliable mentor figure for Baby to a vengeful and violent killer. Conversely, Kevin Spacey plays up the conniving villainy of “Doc” before expertly displaying his ultimate love for Baby during the third act without his turn feeling out of character. The standout villain in this movie, without question, is Jamie Foxx as “Bats” who never ceases to terrify the audience from his introduction to his gruesome demise. Compared to much of Wright’s other work, I also really appreciate that Baby Driver is not a film that spells out everything. Whether it be the significance of certain character interactions or the meaning of the film’s ending, he lets the audience come to their own conclusions about who these characters are and whether or not they deserve their fates. I cannot recommend this film enough to those who love action-heavy heist films with a great cast and great music. For me, Baby Driver is the culmination of Wright’s creative talents up to this point and holds up as the pinnacle of his career that may never be topped in my book. Last Night in Soho (2021) [NOTE: This blog contains spoilers for “Last Night in Soho.” You have been warned.] Going into Last Night in Soho, I was pretty sure it would not feel like any other Edgar Wright in terms of its tone and style of storytelling. And I was fine with that as I’m a fan of much of his previous work but not a diehard devotee or fanatic. I will say that I imagine peoples who grew up loving films like Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz and are excepting another film like the “Cornetto” trilogy will be sorely disappointed. Honestly, that was one of my favorite things about this film. While it has some of the more subtle signature elements of Wright’s sensibilities, Last Night in Soho carves out a distinctive, genre-blending identity that stands out compared to any of his other movies. While there are some drawbacks to this that I’ll talk about later, overall I enjoyed that the film told a different kind of story and showed that Wright is more than just a flashy editor with some good taste in music. To the contrary, he is a talented filmmaker who knows how to evoke great performances from his actors and combine a unique approach to cinematography and sound design to great effect. What is reminiscent of Wright’s other films (particularly Shaun of the Dead and Baby Driver) is his inspired use of music to create a powerful atmosphere. Simply put, this film has style pouring from every shot and scene (particularly during the time-travel dreams of the first act) that had me thoroughly hooked less than halfway into the runtime. Wright’s ability to evoke a sense of nostalgia for a time and place that I have no sentimental or emotional connection is just a prime example of his skilled approach to filmmaking. When it comes to the performances on display here, I assumed that Anya Taylor-Joy would be the standout of the main cast. And while I enjoyed her scenes and her role in the story, I found her being ultimately outclassed by Thomasin McKenzie (Leave No Trace, Jojo Rabbit) as the up-and-coming fashion designer Ellie and the late, great Diana Rigg (On Her Majesty’s Secret Service) as Ellie’s stern yet sympathetic landlady Miss Collins. Regarding the latter, Rigg’s final performance before her death last year may end up being one of her best. Namely because I loved her portrayal of Lady Olenna Tyrell in Game of Thrones, and never once thought of that character while watching Rigg in this film which just points to the tremendous talent that she had and that we have, unfortunately, lost. Some viewers of Last Night in Soho may come away feeling that the story is the weakest part of the movie. While in some sense I can see that, I think that the central issue at stake here for both McKenzie and Rigg’s characters paralleled each other very nicely. Whereas Ellie’s nightmarish experience highlights the double-edged nature of nostalgia and being stuck in the past, Rigg (through her experiences as an aspiring singer in the 1960s) must confront the demons of her past and the morality of her actions in light of the trauma that she went through. While the third-act structure of the movie did not quite allow the emotional potential of this arc to feel fully satisfying in the end, I still appreciated the extent to which Wright made these characters’ stories engaging from start to finish. Unfortunately, Last Night in Soho is by no means a perfect movie. For starters, I appreciated Wright attempting to juggle multiple genres here (primarily drama and psychological horror) but I don’t think the final product handled this balancing act well enough to completely justify the blend. I could show the first half of this movie to someone who’s never seen any of Wright’s other films and they would assume it was a dark comedy with a flair for the theatricality of the 1960s. But if I showed that same person just the second half, they would come away thinking it was a supernatural horror flick about demons from the past and an ill-equipped young woman trying to solve a murder mystery in spite of her crippling anxiety and paranoia. Ultimately, that can be a problem for those wanting to dive into this movie wanting to like all of its parts because they might end up only liking bits of it. For me, the first half was more enjoyable than the second. Furthermore, I found myself longing for some more obvious nods to the editing cues and consistent humor that have become synonymous with Wright’s style. While I thought what humor was in the movie worked for the most part, I do think that his approach to storytelling shines a little brighter with comedies. I firmly believe he’ll only grow creatively if/when he makes another horror movie like this, but until that time I can only judge his “good-not-great” results of Last Night in Soho. Regarding the film’s story structure, it came very close to falling apart for me in the last fifteen minutes. Fortunately, it saved itself from completely souring my opinion on it. However, following the twist reveal of Rigg’s character being an older Taylor-Joy who in fact murdered all of the men that she was prostituted out to, there is a moment with McKenzie and the demons of these men where they ask her to help “save them” and “kill her” (as in Miss Collins). At this point, however, I did not want these men to be victimized and Miss Collins (despite her crimes) to become evil incarnate. Luckily, I did not come away with the belief that Wright was excusing what these men did to Rigg’s character while also feeling Miss Collins’s fate a fitting end for her. All that being said, however, Last Night in Soho does not end as strong as it began or as its middle act kept me engaged. But, at the end of the day, its strengths outweigh its flaws for me and deserves to be seen for those interested in a unique style of modern horror from a great director. While not as complete a film as Hot Fuzz or Shaun of the Dead, it still stands out as a very good flick that worked for me more than it didn’t. With all that being said, here is my ranking of the films of Edgar Wright:
What is your favorite Edgar Wright film? What kind of movie do you want to see Wright direct next? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst Without question, Quebec native Denis Villeneuve has emerged as one of the most important fresh-faced filmmakers of the past decade. He has proven he can bounce between genres, play with budgets of varying sizes, and bring out some of the best performances of some of the biggest stars working in Hollywood today.
Needless to say, I think it’s worth taking a look at how Villeneuve’s work has evolved over the past (nearly) ten years as well as where it might be going in the future. And with the release of the much-anticipated sci-fi epic Dune today, what better time than now to look back at Villeneuve’s English-language filmography? So, without further ado…LET’S GET STARTED! Prisoners (2013) While it was not the first Villeneuve film that I watched, his 2013 crime drama Prisoners has stuck with me ever since I watched it. As this film seems to be lesser known by many, the story kicks off when the daughters of Keller and Grace Dover (Hugh Jackman, Maria Bello) and Franklin and Nancy Birch (Terrence Howard, Viola Davis) are kidnapped in their rural Pennsylvania town. While the search for the girls is taken up by Detective Loki (Jake Gyllenhaal), Keller and Franklin are driven by their grief and heartache to resort to morally questionable measures to discover the truth about their daughters’ abduction. There is little for me to complain about Prisoners. First and foremost, Villeneuve’s direction of the screenplay by Aaron Guzikowski (The Red Road, Raised by Wolves) expertly crafts tension from start to finish that never exhausts but always captivates and invests the audience in the story. While many thrillers utilize the subplot of the victims’ loved ones seeking out retribution in their own ways, Villeneuve the visceral pain of Jackman and Howard’s characters front and center in this thriller and thus subverts expectations for what a crime movie like this can be. But this movie is not for the faint of heart. Prisoners focuses so much on the lengths at which these girls’ fathers (particularly Keller) will go to supplant their own guilt and shame. Simply put, they take out their built-up anger and frustration with the legal process on the prime suspect Alex (Paul Dano), a mentally-disturbed and sheltered young man whose self-evident regressed intelligence forces the audience to sympathize and pity him when he is being subjected to Keller’s physical and emotional abuse. Needless to say, the character work being done here is incredible. While Gyllenhaal sufficiently plays the determined and persistent detective that is ever just one step behind the perpetrator, Jackman excels in this role as a grief-stricken man whose rage breaks him to the point of losing much of his humanity (even though he is doing all of his inexcusable acts in the name of love for his child). Also, Dano shines here despite not being the protagonist and whose backstory we only get in snippets for much of the runtime (only one example of his many great performances in films like There Will Be Blood, 12 Years a Slave, and Swiss Army Man). I also appreciated the grounded emotional turmoil of Howard and Davis as they deal with Franklin’s complicity in Keller’s despicable treatment of Alex. While I will avoid spoiling the meat of the mystery central to the plot of Prisoners, I will only mention that I appreciate the symbolic and metaphorical significance of mazes in the story. Simply put, I took the imagery of the maze as representing the chaotic nature of experiencing grief and how it can put us on greatly diverging paths depending on the choices we make and who we are. All in all, this movie is a great English-language debut for Villeneuve and remains some of the best work he’s done as a director. If anyone is hesitant about taking a chance on Prisoners out of fear that it’ll be too dark or gritty for your taste, please trust me that it’ll be worth the time spent watching the mystery unravel. Enemy (2014) It seems that it was Villeneuve working with Jake Gyllenhaal on his psychological drama/character study Enemy that convinced him to include him as a main character in Prisoners. Whereas Gyllenhaal’s character is more relevant to the plot in the latter, the former puts him front and center in the dual role of a movie that attempts to examine the complexities of our subconscious to mixed results. To be clear, I was engaged with the first two acts of Enemy which focus on college professor Adam Bell discovering the existence of his doppelganger Anthony Claire, an actor, and becoming increasingly obsessed with finding him. I found Villeneuve dissecting the mind of a man’s self-ignorant narcissism in an effort to find himself in the world mildly entertaining and wanted to see where the story went. However, as soon as Adam and Anthony meet each other face to face for the first time, Enemy quickly enters a downward spiral into some of Villeneuve’s most self-indulgent directorial work that does not take long at all to turn me off to the movie entirely. Much of this has to do with the respectable subtlety that shrouded the moral compasses of Gyllenhaal’s characters evaporating by the time the third act is in full swing. Furthermore, any and all visual subtlety goes out the window in the last twenty minutes to the point where Villeneuve almost completely loses me in his effort to expose the heart of human nature and personality. Ultimately, I found Enemy to be more disappointing and anti-climactic than outright bad. Unless you’re a Villeneuve completionist, I recommend skipping this one entirely. Sicario (2015) This was the first film by Villeneuve that I saw, at which point I was unfamiliar with his work and style. In other words, I watched Sicario as a crime thriller set on the U.S.-Mexico border rather than as a Villeneuve film. For context, this is also the first in the spiritual “Frontier Trilogy” written by Sons of Anarchy alumnus Taylor Sheridan (for my thoughts on the other two films in this trilogy, Hell or High Water and Wind River, click here). While this is my least favorite of Sheridan’s first three movies, I still found this to be a pretty strong screenplay for him that would only be surpassed by his next two Hollywood ventures. This ultimately gets to the heart of my feelings about Sicario. Unlike Enemy, I found it to be a well-made movie in virtually every way. I particularly appreciated the three lead performances, such as the straight-arrow FBI agent Kate Macer (Emily Blunt) and her morally complex foil and CIA agent Matt Graver (Josh Brolin). Despite her diminished physicality standing next to Brolin, Blunt holds her own in multiple scenes from intense action sequences to passionate and confrontational, dialogue-heavy scenes. Arguably, however, the stand-out actor in Sicario is Benicio del Toro as the vengeful Mexican assassin Alejandro Gillick whose story I found to be the most sympathy-inducing of any of the main characters. In addition to the performances, the cinematography by veteran artist and genius Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, True Grit, Skyfall, 1917) is breathtaking from the close-ups capturing the intensity of the action scenes to the scenic, picturesque shots of Mexico’s arid deserts. The film’s gunplay and action is incredibly well done by everyone involved. With all of these elements combined, the film is a solid entry to the neo-Western genre from the last decade (but not one of my personal favorites). Unfortunately, Sicario just didn’t click for me. In this sense, it’s an example of a movie that I think is well made but just did not grab me in the way that I hoped it would. But, don’t take my word full force; check out Sicario and judge for yourself if it holds up as one of Villeneuve’s best movies. Arrival (2016) I had very little expectations going into watching the 2016 sci-fi drama Arrival except that it was a Villeneuve film (and thus I was hopeful that it would be good). What I did not expect was for it to be as good as it was. Specifically, I did not think that I’d enjoy Villeneuve’s unique first venture into the science-fiction genre as much as I did. Arrival tells the story of an alien “invasion” in which linguist Louise Banks (Amy Adams) is tasked by U.S. Army Colonel Weber (Forest Whitaker) to establish lines of communication with some of the extraterrestrials (referred to as “heptapods”) who have landed in Montana. With the help of physicist Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner), Louise gradually develops an intimate connection with the heptapods that is threatened and upended by the increasing impatience of the U.S. military and governments around the world who want nothing more than to treat these creatures as invaders and respond in kind. What I genuinely appreciate about Arrival is that it stands out alongside many of the best sci-fi flicks which (in my humble opinion) rely too heavily on CG-heavy action sequences (either on land or in space) and not enough on smart social and political commentary that makes the audience think. In many ways, this film harkens back to the sensibilities of sci-fi in films from the 1950s such as The Day the Earth Stood Still and Invasion of the Body Snatchers by wrestling with the question “What would happen if aliens came to Earth?” in a believable and grounded manner. To be clear, I thoroughly enjoy the less cerebral alien invasion movies (lookin’ at you, Independence Day!) for their sheer entertainment value. However, Villeneuve in Arrival pulls off a movie about the social science behind linguistics in a way that is both entertaining and intellectually engaging. If I have one major complaint about Arrival, it certainly is the lack of substantive attention paid to Louise’s backstory as a mother who has lost a child. While the storytelling is by no means abysmal, the third-act reveal involving Louise’s past simply felt undeveloped and therefore not very satisfying. But this is ultimately a minor critique in the face of what is a solid 2010s sci-fi movie that is well worth your time even if you’re not a fan of Villeneuve’s other works. Blade Runner 2049 (2017) If Arrival was an unexpected surprise from Villeneuve for me, then watching 2017’s Blade Runner 2049—his sequel to Ridley Scott’s 1982 sci-fi classic—was a stunning upset for me in the best ways. As someone who was bored and underwhelmed during both of my viewings of the original Blade Runner, I expected to enjoy every little about Villeneuve’s follow-up. Fortunately, I was proven dead wrong. Yes, the style and production design of Blade Runner 2049 unquestionably pays homage to Scott’s original movie. But it does so by modernizing many of the world-building elements while retaining the best of that dystopian world for modern audiences. By doing so, Villeneuve pulls off a masterful balancing act of paying respect to the past while using his sensibilities with regards to cinematography and pacing to engage someone like myself who found few likeable elements of 1982’s Blade Runner. For me, the character journey of android and blade runner K (Ryan Gosling) is what makes Blade Runner 2049 so good. Gosling somehow pulls off another seemingly impossible balancing act which entails humanizing an android through his romantic attachments to his holographic AI Joi (Ana de Armas) while also never letting the character’s inhumanity escape from the audience’s minds. Perhaps only bested by his role in Drive, this is (in my humble opinion) Gosling’s best performance to date simply due to the well-crafted subtlety he brings to K. Which brings me to the shadow hanging over this film: Harrison Ford as elder blade runner Rick Deckard. Before going into Blade Runner 2049, I was supremely concerned that Ford would come into the plot too early and overshadow anything else happening on screen. Not only did Villeneuve hold back introducing Ford into K’s story until the tail end of the second act (approximately two hours into the runtime), but I also never felt Ford’s story during the end of the film squash my love of and investment in K. Obviously, there have been other attempts to bring Ford’s most iconic characters back to the big screen in recent decades (with mixed results). While I love how Han Solo was used in J.J. Abrams’ The Force Awakens, I must admit that Villeneuve probably understood how best to use Ford’s screen presence in a way that serves the story as opposed to the diehard Blade Runner fans (without ever blatantly insulting the fans’ love for Deckard and the original film). I could easily devote an entire blog to the performances in this film alone, but for the sake of being succinct I shall save that for a potential future post. Needless to say, Blade Runner 2049 is well worth your time. Not only is it my personal favorite film from Villeneuve, but it stands up as one of the best movies of this century. Prove me wrong. 😊 Dune (2021) [NOTE: This blog contains spoilers for “Dune.” You have been warned.] For full transparency, I have never read Frank Herbert’s 1965 novel “Dune” and am only vaguely familiar with the source material of Villeneuve’s latest sci-fi epic. There were only three elements of the plot that I knew beforehand: the fate of one of the characters, the importance of “spice,” and the existence of giant sandworms. That’s about as blind as you can be going into Dune, but if you’re willing to be swept away on an epic cinematic journey then I think you’ll thoroughly enjoy this film in spite of its drawbacks. Easily my favorite thing about Dune is the amount of credit that it gives to its audience for being able to follow an incredibly complex plot. Set in the far-future in an intergalactic feudal system where many of the Great Houses, led by characters such as Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaac) and Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgård), are vying for control of the priceless commodity “spice” on the desert planet of Arrakis. The film’s heart comes from the hero’s journey that follows Leto’s inquisitive but inexperienced son Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) who must overcome his father’s shadow, face the challenges posed by his mother Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) and her connections to the Bene Gesserit, and step into his own as the chosen liberator of the Arrakis natives, the Fremen. That’s about the simplest plot synopsis that I can give of this film, so you won’t be surprised that the first hour or so is laden with character-oriented exposition and extensive world-building. While this is (in my humble opinion) one of Dune’s biggest flaws, it is necessary to ensure that the audience is satisfied with the payoffs, betrayals, and emotional beats in the rest of the movie by understanding the stakes in terms of what things matter and why they matter. So, if you can sit through this slow-burn of a first act I think that the other two acts are a pretty solid payoff to this first part of an epic sci-fi story. Which gets to what will be the movie’s biggest drawback: it is the first half of a larger story. Sometimes, this can work (lookin’ at you, Infinity War!) where the beginning of an epic journey that spans multiple films can be self-contained enough that one can follow along and enjoy it while also teeing up bigger plot threads and important character moments for the next film. Unfortunately, it remains unofficial as of the writing of this blog post whether or not “Part Two” is greenlit. So, for now, we have an incomplete story in Dune. That being said, I was pleasantly surprised by how much this movie holds up thematically as a self-contained “hero’s fall/hero’s rise” for Paul. While the next part will almost certainly offer up a more satisfying story, Paul confronting the political and spiritual realities of his destiny and the stakes of House Atreides’ survival on Arrakis was a thoroughly enjoyable story to tell. On a technical level, Dune is essentially flawless. It is shot beautifully (a staple of Villeneuve’s work at this point), and the costume and production design expertly establish the diverse worlds of Herbert’s universe (from the Scottish Highlands vibe of Caladan, the homework of House Atreides, to the desert landscape of Arrakis itself). Furthermore, Hans Zimmer’s score is incredibly effective at enhancing the more emotionally heightened character moments like the death of Duncan Idaho (Jason Mamoa) that could have fallen flat otherwise. Of course, many of the actors brought their skills and craft to pull off the human side of this story as well. I particularly appreciated the subtly uncertain vibe of Isaac’s Duke Leto Atreides, the grounded moral complexity of Ferguson’s Lady Jessica, and Skarsgård’s domineering, intimidating presence as Baron Harkonnen. In terms of the plot, my only real criticism is the subplot about Paul’s development of “The Voice” and his connections to his mother through the “Bene Gesserit.” While I do hope that this is fleshed out in the potential sequel, I’m also unsure if I care enough about this mystic aspect of the story to want to see more. At the end of the day, however, I liked Dune and want a sequel that gives us the conclusion to Paul’s hero’s journey that we deserve. With all that being said, here is my ranking of the films of Denis Villeneuve:
What is your favorite Denis Villeneuve film? Are you excited for where his filmmaking career goes in the future? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst One of the directors whose work I became more familiar with this past year was the famed Englishman Ridley Scott. Similar to Clint Eastwood, Robert Zemeckis, and others, Scott’s career spans decades and thus there are plenty of good movies to choose from. While many of the movies I’ll be talking about today are well known, there may be some you have never seen or even heard of before.
So, without further ado…LET’S GET STARTED! Alien (1979) I have written about Scott’s 1979 sci-fi horror classic before, so feel free to click here to check out my thoughts on Alien from last October (as well as some other classic 70s horror flicks). In many ways, my opinion of the film has not changed since then so I’ll be brief in reiterating why I think Alien is one of Scott’s best films. When I first watched this movie a few years ago now, I found it boring, tedious, and unengaging in terms of the horror factor. Looking back on that initial viewing experience, I have to assume my cinematic sensibilities were not yet fully developed because on a rewatch in 2020 I came away appreciating Alien much more for a number of reasons. No longer was the film boring, but the deliberate pace effectively built tension in the first act. Furthermore, the restricted use of the Xenomorph for most of the movie’s runtime not only makes sense regarding the sketchy special effects of the time but also helps add to the horror element of the movie. Unquestionably, the peak of the film’s horror vibe comes during the now-iconic chest-burster scene. For those unfamiliar with the age-old tale, the actors in the scene (i.e. the crew of the Nostromo) were not told what exactly was going to happen to John Hurt’s character in order to get genuine reactions out of them. And it works more than I thought it would on a rewatch. The panic and cries of pure terror sell that scene so damn well! But what makes Alien more than just a good 1970s sci-fi flick and a genuinely great film is the writing of Sigourney Weaver’s famous heroine Ellen Ripley. During my initial viewing of Alien and Aliens, I thought that Ripley only became a badass in the sequel and her surviving the Xenomorph at the end of the first film was just dumb luck. But my second viewing made me more appreciative of how she is contrasted with the rest of the crew. Whereas they are all, to one degree or another, ignorant of the dangers aboard their ship or too arrogant to care in the first place, Weaver plays Ripley as a woman who knows what they might be getting into. She is the only character to suggest leaving John Hurt’s character behind on the planet because it could ensure the others’ survival. Furthermore, her own survival in the film’s climax is more than happenstance. The last fifteen or so minutes is an expertly done series of tracking shots showing the audience all that Ripley has to do to both evade the Xenomorph, save Jones, and board the escape shuttle before the Nostromo explodes. Even though her presence becomes more action-oriented in Aliens, Ripley proves herself a more-than-capable protagonist in this film. If I haven’t convinced you to watch Alien by this point, I’m not sure what I could say that will. Thelma & Louise (1991) While I was confident that I would like Thelma & Louise before watching it, I was pleasantly surprised by just how much I liked it. Being a female-led buddy-cop crime film from the 90s (and directed by a man), I was worried that the characterization would feel artificial and the plot nonsensical. Fortunately, I was proven wrong. While I would not personally classify Thelma & Louise as a straight-up black comedy, it undeniably has some darkly humorous elements that could allow one to make such an argument. But what keeps the movie light and fun is its use of “classical comedy” to effectively balance out the darker tone and moments in an effort to not overly rely on that. In my humble opinion, the scene that best embodies this tonal balance is when the eponymous protagonists pull over a foul-mouthed, misogynistic truck driver to demand an apology for his obscene gestures towards them. Unsurprisingly, he refuses to express regrets and in response they shoot the fuel tanker on his truck, exploding it, and leave him alone amidst the wreckage. Both the actors’ performances and director’s style could have made this scene either bland or prevent any sympathy towards the lead women. Instead, the dark absurdity of it all is one of the prime examples of this film’s knack for pushing the audience away while pulling them in at the same time. Of course, Thelma & Louise could not work as well as it does without the infectiously spirited chemistry between lead actresses Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis in one of their best roles for each of them (at least from what I’ve seen them in). Davis’s reserved yet likeable Thelma mashes so well with Sarandon’s witty and domineering Louise that the emotional payoff of their friendship evolving so much by the end of the movie makes watching the film more than worth your time. While I was unsure what I would think of the movie before watching it, Thelma & Louise is easily my favorite Ridley Scott film to date. Gladiator (2000) When compared to Scott’s other films of the 21st century, Gladiator stands out for its sheer entertainment value and gripping—albeit somewhat overplayed—melodrama. A story such as that of Roman general-turned-slave-turned-gladiator Maximus (Russell Crowe) would not work as well as it does without the actor playing him grounding his emotional state in something close to relatability. Luckily, Crowe excels here as a man whose family slain out of spite by the piteous new emperor Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix) drives him to survive in order to serve his own form of justice (although, personally, I liked Crowe more in films like A Beautiful Mind and Cinderella Man). When I wrote about the war epic back in August, I emphasized the importance for these types of films to balance compelling, character-driven drama with visually engaging and entertaining action sequences. Needless to say, Gladiator excels in its combat scenes (particularly between the gladiators themselves). By emphasizing the more personal, one-on-one kind of fighting in this setting, Scott creates a unique take on grandiose action from antiquity that distinguishes it from other movies like it. It also serves the story of showing us Maximus’s evolving relationship with violence in search of vengeance which, ultimately, makes the film’s emotional core stronger than most. But I cannot dissect the best elements of Gladiator without shouting out Phoenix’s quasi-cartoonish performance as Commodus. While the film works well enough with Crowe at the helm and Scott behind the camera, I firmly believe that is Phoenix as the villainous Roman ruler that allows Gladiator to excel to the heights that it does. Is it the Oscar-winning actor’s most sophisticated, complex performance? Certainly not, but that is clear from the outset. Instead, Phoenix gives us a flamboyantly evil personification of greed, corruption, and self-serving narcissism that is so much fun to hate. At the same time, however, we as the audience appreciate his performance as an effective foil to Crowe’s exceptionally heroic protagonist. Arguably, one cannot work without the other. While Gladiator did not hit for me as well on a recent rewatch, it was still a thrilling experience and remains one of my personal favorites of Scott’s work. Matchstick Men (2003) When I set out to delve into Scott’s decades-spanning filmography, I certainly did not except a black-comedy crime drama starring Nicolas Cage as an obsessive-compulsive germophobe and con man to reach my top five. However, Matchstick Men turned out to be surprisingly entertaining for a number of reasons. I have enjoyed Cage in a number of roles across the years, from the pessimistic alcoholic he played in Leaving Las Vegas to the family-friendly everyman treasure hunter in the two National Treasure movies. However, it’s conceivable that his quirky, peculiar personality works better in this film than it does in most of his other roles. I especially found his chemistry with both Alison Lohman (Big Fish, Drag Me to Hell), his daughter/conning mentee Angela, and Sam Rockwell (The Green Mile, Vice, Richard Jewell), his business partner Frank Mercer, to be quite refreshing. Their on-screen work together allows all three actors to shine throughout the runtime without any of them overshadowing each other. Of course, the heart of Matchstick Men—Cage’s father-daughter relationship with Lohman—could not work without both actors putting their all into their respective roles. Through Angela’s introduction into Roy’s (Nicolas Cage) life and upsetting his oh-so delicate status quo, Scott crafts an unconventional yet endearing parent-child dynamic. Through Roy’s teaching Angela the ways of the con, he develops a genuine affection for her that keeps the film from hitting below its mark and being simply a darkly-funny crime thriller. Yet it certainly works in that respect as well. Roy’s strained friendship/partnership with Frank and his burgeoning familial love of Angela run parallel in building to the plot’s watershed moment when Roy protects Angela from vengeful businessman Chuck Frechette (Bruce McGill). Roy’s character evolution, therefore, is on full display by this point. Which makes the ultimate twist of the movie all the more shocking and deflating. By the last fifteen minutes of Matchstick Men, Scott has convinced me that it is one of his great films. Certainly, much of the runtime is carried on the backs of Cage, Lohman, and Rockwell, but the strength of the writing (particularly the twist and the aftermath of its reveal) allows the film to exceed expectations and make a lasting impression on those willing to go along with its seemingly basic premise. The Martian (2015) In the last decade, Ridley Scott has returned to his sci-fi roots established with films like Alien and Blade Runner. Not only has he released two prequels to his original 1979 classic in the form of Prometheus and Alien: Covenant, but in 2015 he adapted Andy Weir’s sci-fi survival novel “The Martian” to the big screen. Similar to my viewing of Matchstick Men, I did not expect to like Scott’s take on a Mars survival tale as much as I did. Much of the credit goes to Matt Damon in the lead as botanist Mark Waney who does a hell of a job portraying the complex dimensions of long-term isolation in harsh environmental conditions as well as exploring the psychological consequences therein. For me, it is easy to put Damon’s work in this role on the same level of his performances in films like Good Will Hunting and Ford v Ferrari. Aside from the central performance, The Martian is a very good modern addition to the science-fiction genre. From the seemingly fact-based look at survival on an unforgiving planet surface to the relationship between Watney, his crew and NASA, it makes for a thoroughly entertaining flick of this nature. To be clear, it doesn’t hold a candle to other sci-fi flicks from the decade like Interstellar and Blade Runner 2049, but it is an exceptional movie that surprised me enough to put it in my top-five list for Ridley Scott. With all that being said, here is my ranking of my five favorite Ridley Scott films:
What is your favorite Ridley Scott film? What film of his that I didn’t talk about do you think deserve some praise? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay In the spirit of both the spooky season and the release of Halloween Kills today, my next film from “1,001 Movies You Must See Before You Die” by Steven Jay Schneider that I want to share my unexpected love for is John Carpenter’s 1978 slasher flick Halloween.
[NOTE: This blog will contain spoilers for “Halloween.” You have been warned.] The History Upon seeing 1976’s Assault on Precinct 13, the sophomore directorial feature of John Carpenter (The Thing, Big Trouble in Little China), independent film producers Irwin Yablans and Moustapha Akkad asked Carpenter to direct a horror film for them that would have the same impact on the zeitgeist as William Friedkin’s 1973 film The Exorcist did. After being given full creative control over the screenplay and score at $10,000, Carpenter agreed. During the drafting of a script about a serial killer that targets babysitters, Yablans suggested to Carpenter to set it on Halloween night to which Carpenter agreed. Carpenter, along with his then-girlfriend and screenwriter-producer Debra Hill (The Dead Zone, Adventures in Babysitting), wrote the script for the film in less than three weeks. According to Hill, much of the inspiration for the spirit of the film came from Celtic traditions of Halloween (i.e. Samhain) in which evil could not be killed. From there, Carpenter formed this concept into the embodiment of evil in “the most evil kid who ever lived” who is also a dark secret of the town. With experience as a babysitter during her own adolescence, Hill wrote most of the dialogue of the female characters in the movie. Additionally, there are many references to the films of Alfred Hitchcock such as Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasance) inspired by Sam Loomis (John Gavin) from Psycho. Regarding the film’s ending, Carpenter aimed to terrify the audience’s imagination in order to keep the true identity (or essence) of Michael Myers ambiguous. Thus, Myers can represent something supernatural or more than human rather than be explained away. After both Peter Cushing (The Hound of the Baskervilles, Star Wars) and Christopher Lee (Dracula, The Wicker Man) turned down the role of Dr. Loomis, Yablans suggested another British actor Donald Pleasance (The Great Escape, You Only Live Twice) who agreed to take the role (despite only being paid $20,000) because his daughter enjoyed Carpenter’s score in Assault on Precinct 13. Pleasance, however, was the highest-paid actor in the film (Nick Castle, who portrayed Michael Myers, was paid twenty-five dollars per day). Carpenter’s first choice to play the protagonist Laurie Strode was not Jamie Lee Curtis (Trading Places, True Lies, Knives Out), who at that point never acted in a movie and was a law-school dropout. However, after learning that Curtis was the daughter of actress Janet Leigh (Touch of Evil, Psycho), Carpenter seized on the opportunity to get publicity for the film by casting Curtis in the starring role. Curtis was initially nervous to play Strode as a “quiet, repressed” character as she identified more with the outgoing cheerleader type back then. Principal photography took place over a four-week period in May of 1978 on location in California. Due to the film’s low budget, many props and costumes were made from items on hand and inexpensively (famously, the Michael Myers mask was made from a mask modeled after Captain Kirk from Star Trek with several modifications such as painting it white and widening its eyes). Additionally, local neighborhood parents dressed up their children in Halloween costumes for the trick-or-treat scenes. Carpenter took three days to compose the film’s score, which has become iconic in and of itself. Notably, the recognizability of the “Halloween Theme” (the poignant piano melody in the film) is on par with the “The Ecstasy of Gold” theme from Sergio Leone’s The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and the “Shark” theme from Steven Spielberg’s Jaws. Released in October of 1978, Halloween ended up grossing upwards of 70 million dollars worldwide making one of the most profitable independent films of all time. Much of its success can be owed to word-of-mouth, despite some critics calling the film unoriginal and empty. A notable exception was Roger Ebert, who called the film “a visceral experience” and “frightening” and eventually put it in his top-ten list of films released that year. Today, Halloween is widely praised for its use of Hitchcock-like suspense without relying on overt graphic violence. Furthermore, it is viewed by many cinephiles and film historians to be the progenitor of the modern “slasher” subgenre of horror movies. The Pros I first saw Carpenter’s 1978 slasher classic a few years ago. In preparation for the release of the direct sequel forty years in the making, 2018’s Halloween from director David Gordon Green (Pineapple Express, Joe, Stronger), I decided that I should first check out the original that started it all. Admittedly, I was apprehensive due to the film’s age and my presumption about slasher movies being absurdly cheesy, campy, and mindless affairs. And boy was I proven wrong after watching this film. Like some other older horror films that I’ve come to really like (Invasion of the Body Snatchers and Psycho, to name a few), Halloween has numerous qualities about it that make it timeless. First and foremost, the central performances are all standout in their own way. As a fan of much of the work of Jamie Lee Curtis, it was really great seeing her so early in her career be just as captivating as the central villain that is Michael Myers (Nick Castle). Additionally, my initial fears of her character of Laurie Strode being simply a damsel in distress were quelled by the end. Sure, she was a teenage babysitter pretty unprepared for being chased by a knife-wielding psychopath. However, her resourcefulness is evident throughout the film to the point where by the end (despite being scared out of her time) she is able to effectively end Michael’s reign of terror that night. The other great character work comes from Donald Pleasance as Dr. Samuel Loomis. His insights into Michael’s psychology never feel forced or inorganic but instead add just enough context to his mythos as an emotionless killer without detracting from what Carpenter intended for Michael as the embodiment of pure evil. Arguably the standout performance, however, is Castle as Michael Myers. In many ways, I compare him to the great masked performances of cinematic history (James Earl Jones/David Prowse as Darth Vader in Star Wars, for example) in that the actor must rely much more so on their physicality to express their characters’ mindset and emotions. In contrast with Darth Vader, however, Michael Myers has no dialogue and thus Castle’s characterization of the killer is based solely on how he moves within a given scene. To be intimidating without ever seeing the person’s face or hear them speak a work is what I like to call “simple brilliance” because it is obvious and yet had never really been done before Halloween. Needless to say, Castle’s performance has gone down as one of the scariest antagonists of any horror movie. Period. Aside from the performances, I really appreciated the film’s technical elements such as the score and cinematography. Regarding the former, Carpenter’s score is more than just iconic for aesthetic purposes. More so, it enhances the storytelling by effectively injecting suspense into the narrative at the right moments in the way that the “Shark Theme” from Jaws and “The Imperial March” from The Empire Strikes Back do for their respective films. Regarding the latter, cinematographer Dean Cundey (The Thing, Back to the Future, Apollo 13) expertly crafts tension in so many scenes in ways that I genuinely struggled to anticipate. Being an older horror movie, I was certain that I could predict where and when all the kills would happen. However, more than once I found myself pleasantly surprised by the camera work (notably in the pop-out closet scene) that proved to me over and over just how good this movie is. The Cons I won’t lie; Halloween is one of my favorite classic horror movies. Full stop. Thus, I have very few negative things to say about it. It’s well-structured, well-paced, well-shot, and well-composed. If anything, it’s biggest drawback is by no fault of its own due to its age but those watching it for the first time may feel that it relies too much on certain tropes now strongly associated with the slasher genre. Certainly some of the acting makes this apparent throughout the runtime. The only problem is…it invented so many of those tropes! Therefore, can it really be criticized for that? I say no, and not just because it’s an important film but because it’s a damn good one! So, what are my final impressions of Halloween? Needless to say, it is a fantastic film that did so much for the horror genre (specifically “slasher” films) and remains relevant in spite of the sheer plethora of movies like it that have come out in the forty-plus years since it premiered. I don’t think I need to say this, but go watch Halloween if you haven’t! What are your thoughts on John Carpenter’s Halloween? What other 1970s horror flicks do you like? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst |
Austin McManusI have no academic or professional background in film production or criticism; I simply love watching and talking about movies. Archives
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