Film #37 – The Pact

The Pact is one of those films that makes me sad to see the demise of the video store. It’s just not a film that you’d choose to watch unless you were a diehard fan of the genre or stumbled across it when looking for something else.

Which is not to say that it’s bad. It’s not. It’s just not good enough to rise to the level that demands you pay attention. I should know, I fell asleep for a good five minutes of it.

Revisiting her childhood home after her mother’s recent death, Nicole Barlowe (a cameo from soap star Agnes Bruckner) vanishes mid-Skype with her young daughter (whose presence in the film is often forgotten by the filmmaker). When her resentful sister Annie (Caity Lotz) and more responsible cousin Liz (Kathleen Rose Perkins) arrive on scene, it quickly become clear to Annie that something is amiss in the house – a point well made when an invisible force bounces off walls and ceilings. Narrowly escaping with Nicole’s daughter Eva (Dakote Bright) in tow, Annie realises that Liz has also vanished. While local cop Creek (Casper van Dien (I know!)) is sympathetic, he’s also suspicious forcing Annie to turn to local spooky girl Stevie (Haley Hudson) for answers. What Stevie discovers inside the house implies that something is trying to protect a secret from Annie’s past that her mother died to defend.

From this framework the film is competent but never brilliant, a shame given that the director is clearly passionate about the work. The scares are very artfully done (one or two of them come as real crowd shockers) but tend to follow the same cat-jumps-out –from-behind-the-door kind of shock a little too much. As Annie starts to unravel the clues, the film likes to have it both ways by introducing supernatural elements and quotidian scares in equal measure which sort of works but feels a bit like cheating. To its credit, The Pact does do some vaguely interesting things with the supernatural elements once the obnoxious Paranormal Activity body sliding is dispensed with (thankfully early on) particularly in the way it tries to incorporate modern technology into the mix. It’s just not consistently clever across the field.

In terms of performance, everyone does a basically good job but no one really stands out from the field. This is arguably not the actors’ fault though, there’s just not enough nuance in the script for them to have anything to flesh out. We get surface indicators that at least Nicole (if not Annie) have been drug abusers in the past owing to a supposedly traumatic upbringing but we never get a sense of what that means or what role their mental state plays into the events unfolding around them (though Lotz does a suitable amount of harumphing just after the act 1 turning point).

That’s a real problem for this film; you never get a sense that The Pact is about anything more than a series of events happening one after the other. And horror is a genre that bears the burden of that responsibility more than many others as it is horror’s job to show us what we fear as a society. Because this film in particular tries to have it both ways with its scares it just never gets concentrated enough to mean much.

The other hallmark of horror of course is pacing and, in this regard, The Pact does quite well. Many of the films I’ve seen this year have suffered from poor pacing in the first act, but if The Pact lags at all, it’s not until the mid point of the film by which stage I’ve already made the commitment to see this through to the end.

So, basically, The Pact is a perfectly serviceable horror film for fans of the genre and for people who like really trawling the depths of their Netflix list.

Once again, this was part of the Toronto After Dark Summer Sessions and I think the crowd there would agree that The Pact  is perfectly fine, but it’s no Juan of the Dead.

Film #36 - Juan of the Dead

Juan of the Dead is a bit of curious film and not just because it mixes the classic zombie apocalypse horror with slapstick comedy (similar ground having, of course been covered in Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead and, to a lesser extent Zack Snyder’s remake of Dawn of the Dead).

No what stands out primarily about Juan of the Dead (or Juan de los Muertos in its original form) is that it is not only a Cuban zombie film but one that is heavily critical of the Cuban government yet enjoyed the Cuban government’s support whilst being made.

Plotwise we’re looking at some pretty standard fare. Our hero Juan (Alexis Diaz de Villegas) enjoys a shiftless existence palling around with his even more ineffectual best friend Lazaro (Jorge Molina), both of whom make their living avoiding honest work and who are both estranged by various degrees from their adult children: Camila (Andrea Duro) in Juan’s case and Vladi California (Andros Perugorria) in Lazaro’s.

But Juan’s satisfaction with his own existence (he credits being a survivor as his ultimate talent) receives a bit of a shake up when his friends and neighbours start turning violent and biting one another. Yessirs, the zombie apocalypse is on.

Zombie films have always been rich pickings for anyone looking for a metaphor but Juan of the Dead stands out from its stablemates is how overt the satire is. It takes the protagonists of the film a considerable amount of time to even notice there is a zombie plague afoot because life in Castro’s Cuba and life with the living dead don’t instantly look totally dissimilar from each other. As they government becomes aware of the threat, it is dismissed as the work of “dissidents” and “imperialists” and the protagonists seem largely willing to go along with this description. The word “zombie” is uttered only once in the entire film and it comes from the lips of an improbably placed Australian priest who the major antagonists can’t understand anyway.

Even more interesting is the way the film’s protagonists react when they realise what is going on. For many of Havana’s residents, the walking dead is just another on a laundry list of inconveniences to be endured and our hero sees it as a serendipitous opportunity to make some fast money by starting a business offing your relatives when they become noisily dead (the film’s title is also the name of Juan’s company).

All of which may sound like Cuba is being presented as a Hell on Earth but nothing could be further from the truth. There’s a lot to like about Cuba from the film’s perspective. It’s people are practical, efficient, and (in their own lazy murderous way) adherent to a moral code. There’s also the (to me) surprising addition of a major transvestite heroic character and his behemoth of a boyfriend which helps to offset some of the more homophobic elements of the script (there’s more than one). And it’s very clear that Juan at the very least has an abiding love for his country even as he plots to swindle it for all it’s worth.

Although the pacing tends to be on the slow side (it’s unclear exact how long the plot of the film runs for but it’s at least a month), the steady stream of humour helps distract from the fact that nothing’s happening plotwise – there’s an impromptu tango scene to look out for in particular.

Performance-wise, I’m at a bit of loss owing to the language barrier but Preugorria and Jazz Vila as “La China” stood out for me in particular.

This screening was part of the Toronto After Dark Summer Sessions where the selections can sometimes be a bit patchy (hey, can’t please everyone all the time) but the community is incredibly enthusiastic. See Juan on the big screen if you get the chance as it’s this kind of crowd that is the cherry on top of a well put together cake.

Film #35 - Safety Not Guaranteed

The somewhat limited marketing I’ve seen for Safety Not Guaranteed has touted fairly heavily that this is from the same producers that brought you Little Miss Sunshine. And you can see why. Although a completely different experience to LMS, Safety Not Guaranteed evinces a little of the same emotional response. It looks fairly straightforward from the outside but gradually gives up a rich inner life that culminates in a completely unexpected and totally uplifting climax that put a massive smile across my face.

I doubt Safety Not Guaranteed will enjoy the same success that LMS did though and part of it, I think, will come down to the marketing of it. It’s a tricky one to categorise in many ways. It feels like an indie comedy, has the mechanics of a romantic comedy, yet features a sci-fi element that should either be completely dismissed or is secretly underpinning the whole movie depending on what you think of its leading male character.

It also lacks a little of the star power that made people pay attention to LMS; though the casting certainly can’t be faulted here. In the main three roles of the film are three very well established television actors with Parks and Recreation’s Aubrey Plaza, The League’s Mark Duplass, and New Girl’s Jake Johnson. And in each instance the actors are playing against the type their small screen exploits may have lead you expect.

Full disclosure going in: I’m a massive fan of Aubrey Plaza and her schtick but have occasionally wondered how much range she has as an actress given that I’ve only ever seen her play sardonic young women who secretly want to kill you. Safety Not Guaranteed is (I believe) her first feature as a leading lady and I went in with a bit of apprehension that all the eye-rolling in the world wouldn’t be enough to sustain 90 minutes of footage.

The good news is that Plaza exhibits, if not range, then at least nuance as Darius, the leading character of SNG. The deadpan delivery is still out in force (the scene where she confronts Duplass’ Kenneth for the first time is an absolute gem) but it is much clearer in this outing that it is all a front for a vulnerable and lonely young woman who has long felt at odds with the world she lives in.

The plot of the movie has Darius, an intern at a Seattle-based magazine seconded to Jake Johnson’s slick journalist Jeff as they investigate an intriguing wanted ad seeking a partner for a time travelling journey where safety is not guaranteed. Along for the ride is fellow intern Arnau (played beautifully understatedly by Karan Soni) whose crippling shyness makes him an odd choice for a journalistic internship.

Arriving in a small Northwest American town, they trio track down Kenneth Carraway (Mark Duplass), the writer of the advertisement who, to the cityfolk’s eyes at least, is clearly mentally disturbed. After Jeff’s aggressively charismatic attempts to secure an interview fail to win over the guarded Kenneth, Darius is chosen to make a second attempt and, from there an unexpected partnership (and the movie) takes off.

Ultimately, Safety Not Guaranteed is about some fairly well worn cinematic themes – the conflict between cynicism and innocence (both Darius and Kenneth are seeking a deeper life beyond the surface of what they’re offered in life), the sharp pain of regret and the fear of a wasted life, and the unexpected way that a fraction of hope can transform your whole world.

As I say, none of these themes are particularly new but the film handles them deftly, playing from one to another at just the right time to stop any feeling cloying or preachy and even the minor characters get brought along for the ride. A major subplot if Jeff’s rekindling of a romance with his former high school sweetheart (a major part of him pitching his story to his editor was the chance to revisit her) and his discovery that his outwardly successful life may have been, he may have been secretly yearning for something fuller all along. That plays beautifully into his relationship with the inexperienced Arnau who needs to grasp life more fully himself. By constantly shifting focus among five characters in search of an antagonist, everyone’s life can get richer without feeling like an episode of Touched By An Angel.

Wisely, the film is coy about whether the damaged Kenneth really is capable of the time travel he claims be able to achieve and focuses on the dynamic between him and Darius. Both are defensive, insular characters who nonetheless crave connection and the slow blossoming of trust between them feels organic. Of course she’s lying to him about her intentions in typical romcom fashion but we get plenty of clues that he might be as crazy (and potentially dangerous) as she had believed before getting to know him.  And plenty of clues that he might just what he says he is after all. Sticking around to see which is true is part of the fun of it all.

I made a point of singling out Aubrey Plaza early on, but Mark Duplass (who also produces) also deserves a lot of credit for his aching portrayal of the damaged Kenneth. He’s everything you’d avoid in real life but impossible to dislike on the big screen. And for an actor that I’m more used to seeing play a douche bag on The League, it’s enough for me to want go through his back catalogue.

All in all, Safety Not Guaranteed is not the best film you’ll ever see (its first act does take its time and not all jokes hit their mark) but it’s certainly one of the better films I’ve seen this year and is an absolute charmer.

And any film that already has you hooked and then – BAM, Kristin Bell! – is definitely worth seeing.

Film #34 - Prometheus

And so famed director Ridley Scott returns to his old stomping ground,  with his first science fiction film since 1982’s Blade Runner box office failure – with a loose prequel/remake of his first large scale success, Alien.

Scott, of course, famously declared he was done with the genre after that mishap but after a decade of his career going nowhere particularly exciting (arguably his last great film was 2001’s Black Hawk Down) and Blade Runner now regularly taught in film school, you can see why Scott might be tempted to regain some magic by visiting the scene of past glories.

And in its way, Prometheus does just that. Scott’s clearly picked up some masterful tricks over the years and they go a long towards creating a solid sci-fi film that’s both expansive and philosophically declarative. The question is – does it have a place in the Alien universe, now that the franchise has become so embroidered by other visions, both onscreen and in print media. And to that, I’m not sure if I can say that it does.

What worked so well about Scott’s original Alien was that it mastered the art of claustrophobia. We rarely saw the creature at all but we felt its presence all over the screen. Even in James Cameron`s more ballistic sequel Aliens the creatures remained largely a mystery and not knowing what they were capable of, or what directed their actions, enabled both directors to get a lot more out of the human cast members.

In Prometheus, the paradigm seems inverted and ultimately this works against the film. Scott pulls no punches in his efforts to make the alien planet and the artefacts thereon epic in scale, and by the end of the film we have a lot more information about what`s going on that we ever have before (at least filmically). Yet, paradoxically, the humans caught in the crossfire have never seemed less important.

For the uninitiated, Prometheus (while not being a prequel in the sense you might think) follows the broad brushstrokes of Alien`s plot. 

A group of scientists (led by the original Girl with the Dragon Tattoo`s Noomi Rapace) touch down on an alien planet – this time looking for answers about the origins of the human race after having being led there by star maps found in multiple cultures` primitive art. Almost from landing, it`s clear things aren`t what they`ve been lead to believe. The resident android (played by Michael Fassbender, intriguingly as if he were a queer butler) seems to be acting against their interest, the corporate benefactors may know more than they`re saying, and there`s something decidedly nasty going bump in the night. After something from outside is accidentally brought in, all hell breaks loose and a lone female protagonist (Rapace again) must inevitably show down against some very vicious creatures.

So far, so good. But where Alien created tension from its earliest sequences, Prometheus only works because you`ve seen Alien and know that you`re meant to feel tense here. Part of the problem comes from a much expanded human roster which doesn`t give us a lot of chance to get to know the protagonists as much more than cannon fodder, part of it comes from an emphasis on style over emotion so that Scott`s admittedly impressively setting overshadows events. Rather than stick to one creature threatening the crew, Scott throws a veritable house of horrors at his cast until it`s a bit unclear what the rules of the game are. Why do some of these creatures take one form, and others another. That might be okay cinematically (for all we know we`re witnessing a whole ecosystem here) if Prometheus  didn`t seem to making a big deal overtrying to capture a unifying theory for things.

Because part of the problem is that Prometheus seems to spend a lot of time talking when it could be doing. The script attempts to contain some complex ideas about the role of faith in a world of science (those familiar with Damien Lindelof`s work on Lost won`t be surprised to see him in the credits) but I`m not convinced it really anything of enough substance to justify its presence in an already overlong film. Rapace`s Dr Elizabeth Shaw (amusingly, also the name of a Doctor Who companion) is a scientist who comes to her conclusions and then justifies them as articles of faith, who somehow manages to get a major corporation to fund her expensive expedition to check out if her gut`s been right this whole time. The android, David, seems unnaturally interested in her crucifix yet repeatedly reminds us that he`s not programmed to feel emotion. As he clearly demonstrates emotion (I`m sorry, Mr Fassbender, but weren`t as po-faced as others have suggested). It doesn`t quite make sense.

Luckily a lot of this stuff is largely constrained to the particularly slow first act and, after the first big set piece (an oncoming storm makes playthings of the crew`s equipment) things settle down as the larger plot goes into motion.

There`s denying that what happens next has some great little gimmicks (the operating booth sequence in particular is hilarious in its extremity). The creatures are menacing, major characters make great sacrifices, the plot twist is an actual twist, and Michael Fassbender is creepy. But without the tight focus that Alien had, do we really care?

By the time the much-maligned finale rocks around, we’re pretty much reduced to understanding that we’re here for the spectacle and little else. For what it’s worth, I didn’t have the problems with the finale that other reviewers have, though making the pace more even throughout the film would have certainly helped. Though if anyone could explain Rapace’s Shaw’s decision making process for the third act, I’d be much gratified.

Performance-wise, there’s not much to write home about in Prometheus. Fassbender is impressive in that vaguely annoying way he always is, Charlize Theron as the ship’s commander is effectively steely, and Idris Elba has lines. Logan Marshall-Green is along for the ride and, while I quite like the actor, the script writes him in a way to ensure you won’t miss him. As for Rapace, I do feel that she may have a great English-language film in her, but she hasn’t found it yet (she was also one of the many weak elements in Sherlock Holmes 2 earlier this year).

Ultimately, your experience of Prometheus will probably be inversely proportionate to your fondness for Alien. While certainly a decent Cineplex experience in its own right, and an encouraging move for Ridley Scott, I feel this is probably more of an initial step in reclaiming his throne among the pantheon of Hollywood’s best directors than a victory lap.

Film 33 - Snow White and the Huntsman

I have to confess that it comes as a bit of a surprise that a film so meticulously populated with such rich detail winds up being somewhat of a hollow affair.

Snow White and the Huntsman is, of course, the second major film adaptation of the classic Grimm Brothers fairy tale (the other being the decidedly more comedic take expressed in Tarsem Singh’s Mirror Mirror – which I did not see primarily because 90 minutes of Julia Roberts attempting comic timing is not my idea of a fun evening out (and this is from someone who saw Ghost Rider 2)).

As far as the plot goes, there’s not a lot in the broad strokes here that you don’t know already. A wicked Queen (Charlize Theron), named Ravenna in this version, obsessed with her own beauty discovers a rival in her stepdaughter Snow White (Kristen Stewart) and plots to have her killed to assure her own grip on the populace. Snow White escapes and, with the help of a few allies she meets on her journey, must find a way to break the Queen’s stranglehold on the kingdom.

What’s remarkable about Snow White and the Huntsman is the amount of detail the script seems eager to bring to the well-worn narrative. The titular Huntsman (Chris Hemsworth in the third film I’ve seen him in this year – running the risk of making him 2012’s answer to Sam Worthington) is given a much expanded role and his own back story (though strangely not a name). Effort is made to explain why a band of dwarves may have exiled themselves to the forest, and we are given at least a bit of clearer rationale for why Prince William/Charming (Sam Claflin) might find the heroine so winsome as he does. The additions to the plot really help to deepen the sense of what’s going on and make the story feel much more cohesive than may otherwise be expected even if they don't always have the emotional impact that's required.

Of course, the greatest embroidering here is the back story given to its villainess, Ravenna, and it is here that the film is strongest as it brings out a more complex feminist reading of the classic tale. Ravenna is not merely evil for its own sake; it has been made abundantly clear to her that to gain agency in a misogynistic world she must maintain and wield her strongest weapon – her beauty – to its maximum effect. Moreover, rather than this being Ravenna’s mental pathology, the film is quite explicit that her beauty is what makes her magical powers function.

The interplay between the two ideas of beauty and power here allows the film to make several strong points: not only about the power relationships between men and women (and the sacrifices strong women make to be strong) but also the way that power relationship sours relationships between women. There’s an early scene that implies that Ravenna could have been fond of Snow White were she not such a rising threat to her goals.

None of this is particularly new ground to anyone who’s been paying any attention to feminism, ever, but it’s nice to see Hollywood willing to take on a more complex understanding of feminism. Typically a film like Snow White and the Huntsman might take on a “girl power” narrative that is temporarily fulfilling but banal in its simplicity (I believe this is indeed the road that Mirror Mirror went down). I like that it represents a new level of debate that has been sorely missing from the mainstream (we’ll have to wait to see how Mockingjay handles the similar themes of female strength leading to female alienation that were present in the third book of the Hunger Games trilogy).

The film falls down a bit in this stream though when it comes to encapsulating exactly what alternative to Ravenna’s brand of feminism that Snow White can offer. She’s seen as a Messianic figure by most of the rest of the cast, and her ‘innocence’ and ‘purity’ appear to be the character reasons she’s regaled as such but, without seeing her make a decision that Ravenna failed to, I can’t quite see how she’s the improved option – just a very lucky girl to be loved by so many without earning it.

And indeed, it’s the characterisation of Snow White that exposes the film’s greatest flaw – we are simply never given a reason like her or to care what happens to her. The film mounts the argument that she is an avatar for the land itself and her ascendancy represents a broader healing but, without emotionally connecting to her in any way, it’s hard for an audience member to feel the gravitas for this idea that the dwarves do. Cynics will lay the blame for this at Kristen Stewart’s feet, given that her Twilight stint has made her something of a reliable punching bag, but the truth is it’s not Stewart’s fault at all. The material just isn’t in the script.

The other major flaw that drags SWatH down is a very real problem with pacing, particularly in the second half (coincidentally when Ravenna goes largely AWOL). Key points are raised and then belabored to the point where it’s unclear if the filmmakers think we lack the intelligence to follow what’s going on, or are just so enamoured of the importance of what they’re saying. There is a slight sense that the producers would much rather be producing The Lord of the Rings right now, as everything is given an epic sense, whether it warrants it or not. Actually, given that this was made by the producers of Alice In Wonderland, which also wanted to be LotR in its third act – this may very well be the case. The even make the same mistake about how trebuchets are used that was in Return of the King.

This is probably a misstep by the director as the film feels more naturally attuned to 1980s fantasy romps such as Legend, Ladyhawke or Willow (indeed, the film bizarrely rips off set pieces from The Neverending Story and Princess Mononoke).

While the script fails to maintain this sense of epic wonder though, the visual design certainly does not. The film is  delight to look at from the nightmarish claustrophobia of the Dark Forest to the unrelenting grimness of Ravenna’s rule to the sylvan delights of the Dwarves’ home – there are very few frames that don’t have something to offer up to the eyes.

As far as performances go, much will be made of Charlize Theron’s marketing launching turn as Ravenna. As talented as Theron assuredly is though, I’m not sure if she’s really the better actor amongst the cast, or just the only character we’re ever given a reason to sympathise with. Certainly Theron works the gamut from sorrow to haughty glee but she also has her off moments, occasionally threatening to veer into histrionics. It won’t come as any great surprise to hear that neither Stewart nor Hemsworth particularly stand out (but neither is given much to work with) but the member of the cast who may be worth keeping your eye on is Sam Claflin who at least brings a steely determination to his role of Prince William and looks badass with a bow as he does it.

All in all, I think Snow White and the Huntsman is well worth seeing but not for the reasons you’d think. It’s an object of beauty and has some interesting things to say about power, duty, honour and feminism but will ultimately feel more like an intellectual exercise than an emotional one.