It Follows

While mainstream American Horror continues to disappoint in many of the same ways it has been for decades, the last couple of years we have begun to see what looks like a promising new wave of Horror directors emerging from the New Zealand, Australian, UK and American Indie Movements. Adam Wingard (You're Next, The Guest) and Gerard Johnstone (Housebound) have put their knowledge of modern horror to use, creating genre-inverting horror comedies that manage the tricky task of being funny without diminishing the scares. Even more promising is the work of Jennifer Kent (The Babadook) and Ben Wheatley (Kill List, A Field in England) who draw on the history of film to move the medium forward. Both groups are similar in that they are film literate but the distinction of where they are pulling references from is important. We have seen a few films in the first group enter the mainstream consciousness (Scream, Cabin in the Woods) but none that I can think of from the latter (maybe studio's think they are doing this by remaking classic horrors?). It Follows, the sophomore effort from writer/director David Robert Mitchell falls decidedly in the latter group. Harking back to the films of John Carpenter without feeling derivative, It Follows is a statement of how far Horror has come, and the promising future it might have.

It Follows is not a film which contains any major plot twists or surprises, however, it is impossible to talk about the film without in some sense spoiling it. My quick review is that this is a great film and one not to be missed. For those of you who like to go into a film fresh, stop here and go watch the film, and then read my review.

Maika Monroe (The Guest) plays Jay, a long legged blond from the suburbs, who, after sleeping for the first time with her seemingly nice boyfriend, is drugged and passes out. She wakes us tied to a wheelchair where a frightened Hugh (her boyfriend) informers her that she will now be followed by… something. He doesn't know what it is but he knows it will follow her, never faster than walking speed. He got it by having sex with a girl who had it, and now he has passed it on to her. "It could look like someone you know or it could be a stranger in a crowd. Whatever helps it get close to you." You can travel to buy yourself sometime, but it will always be slowly following. He advocates passing it on to someone new, which will be easy, he reminds her, because she is a girl.

There has been a fair amount of conversation regarding what It Follows is actually about. Clearly it is commenting on sex, and because of the nature of the curse, many have been quick to conclude it is a film about STD's. While a Cronenbergian reading is interesting, I think this is ultimately wrong. This reading doesn't even work plot wise; what STD is cured by having sex with a new victim? Viewing the film as an STD metaphor is also to ignore the multitude of ways sex is explored in the film. Sex is not just seen as a potentially dangerous activity, it is also portrayed as a weapon, as comfort when afraid and as a way to express one's inner feelings. While I can't claim to know exactly what It Follows is about, I do not think it can be reduced to just one thing. The film explores a complexity of ideas, many of them not reducible to a single over-arching reading.

Putting aside the high-concept plot of the film, It Follows works incredibly well on a surface-level viewing. The film will suck you into its dreamlike reality and make you care about its sympathetic and well- rounded characters. It Follows moves at a relatively easy pace, but the haunting atmosphere and pounding electronic score will leave you twitching in fear and anticipation. The dread of the unstoppable and unrelenting force pursuing them is never lost on the audience. Rather than settling for cheap scares, the film creates a building tension which it maintains for almost the entirety of the running time. Rarely is there time to breath, this is not a film for those who like their horror films at an ironic distance. It Follows is remarkably terrifying, a horror that will follow you home and leave you shaken for days.

Corn Island

Every year the Enguri River drops to reveal small fertile islands. Because the river marks the natural border that separates Georgia from Abkhazia, these islands are unclaimed territory. Peasants come every year to live on them during the growing season, attempting to harvest enough corn to survive the winter. Two problems face them; the fact that the two nations have been in some form of conflict since the 90's and the rising waters of the Enguri.

Clearly influenced by the likes of Dreyer and Bela Tarr, Director George Ovashvili's slow-burning, minimalist thriller takes place entirely on and around one of these tiny islands. We follow an old man, referred to only as Grandpa, and his grand-daughter as they methodically bring supplies to the island and construct a small shack. They will have to live on this island in order to tend to and protect their little patch of corn.

The film is low on plot and with nearly no dialogue and yet the sweeping cinematography gives the film an epic tone. This island means everything and nothing. The river creates and the river destroys. The island is a microcosm of man against nature, of the political instability of the region and of life itself. The amount Corn Island is able to achieve with so little is commendable.

A grand achievement, Corn Island hints at a bright future for Georgian cinema and puts George Ovashvili on the radar as a director to watch.

Black Coal, Thin Ice

In snow covered streets surrounded by perpetual darkness detectives and suspects are made distinguishable only by the soft glow of neon signs. Faces are shrouded by shadow, characters motives are unclear. We are in very classic noir territory in Black Coal, Thin Ice.

A brutal murder occurs in Northern China. Severed limbs appear simultaneously across the country in coal plants. The investigation into the murder is botched, leaving detective Zhang Zili injured, ashamed and without a job. Five years later, body parts are found in coal plants. Now an alcoholic and working as a security guard, Zhang once again finds himself in the pursuit of the mysterious mass murderer. The only connection between the two cases is a beautiful dry cleaning assistant Wu Zhizhen, who soon becomes the object of Zhang's obsession.

An intriguing combination of neo-noir and Chinese realism, Black Coal, Thin Ice demonstrates director Yi'nan Diao's genre literacy. From the lighting, to the troubled anti-hero, to the femme-fatale, the film is full of noir tropes. What makes the film unique is the camera's continual shift to the mundane. Unlike the modern Tarantino-inspired trend, the revelations and acts of violence are down-played. Plot takes a back seat to atmosphere as the audience is immersed in a bleak, nihilistic vision of modern China.

Winner of the Golden Bear at the Berlin film festival, Black Coal, Thin Ice has been a hit with critics but it's hard to see it winning any audience awards. The slow pace and dark, defeatist world view will be a turn off for most audience but if you don't view those as detractors, and if you are a fan of noir then this is a film to see.

Haemoo

It is a really interesting time for Korean cinema. Chan-wook Park and Joon-ho Bong, South Korea's leading auteurs have successfully transitioned into the English language with Stoker and Snowpiercer, introducing a larger audience to their respective cannons. South Korean cinema is flourishing. Haemoo's success on the festival circuit and its selection as Korea's entry for the foreign language Oscar is probably due in a large part to Joon-ho Bong's credit as producer and screenwriter.

Haemoo (Sea Fog) is based on a stage play which is in turn based on a real event that occurred in 2001. Judging by the collective gasp in the VIFF screening I was in, I assume most were not aware of what event it was based on. All I will say is that the incident is shocking and traumatic; this is not a film for the squeamish.

The film centers on Captain Kang and his fishing crew. He is about to lose his boat due to lack of finances so in an act of desperation he agrees to the job of smuggling Chinese-Korean immigrants into the country. His crew is not told until they are at sea.

First time director Sung Bo Shim competently handles the film, employing a straight forward, no bullshit approach to storytelling that would make Clint Eastwood proud. The set pieces are solid, especially the ship itself, although the film would have benefited from a cinematographer who wasn't afraid to take a step back. The camera is often too close to the action and three uses of shaky-cam are three too many.

Haemoo has its flaws but it's properly paced and well told. The audience at the screening seemed to love it, simultaneously applauding loudly at the finish. I look forward to seeing what Sung Bo Shim does next, preferably with a slightly larger budget.

The Tale of Princess Kaguya

With the exception of the energetic The Lego Movie, this year has been a disappointment for the animated genre. What a relief then it is that Isao Takahata's (Grave of the Fireflies) new film is a triumphant success. 

Based on a 10th century Japanese folktale, The Tale of Princess Kaguya is a bitter-sweet coming of age story. Our protagonist is Kaguya-hime who is discovered as a baby in a bamboo stalk by an old peasant man. He and his childless wife raise her as their own, providing the best they can as she rapidly ages. While her mother is fearful of change and just wants a comfortable life for her adopted daughter, her father envisions great things. He sees Kaguya as part of a divine plan and after fine clothes and gold come shooting out of bamboo stalks he concludes that the heavens want her to become a proper princess. He assumes this is the best way to make his daughter happy instead of asking her what she wants. 

A sharply observed feminist critique of traditional Japanese culture as well as a cautionary tale of the burdens we place on our children, The Tale of Princess Kaguya has a wealth of complex themes and archetypes hidden beneath the surface of its fairly straight- forward story. This is one of the rare films that are both easily accessible to a young audience and one that film students can write thesis papers on. 

The final word should be reserved for Studio Ghibli's animation. The style used invokes something between impressionist paintings and water-colours while employing a muted palette. Ghibli moves away from traditional anime and the results are breathtaking. The hand drawn frames could each stand alone as a portrait and yet the film feels fluid. At times the animation blurs into expressionism; the brush strokes matching the characters inner- turmoil. 

Easily the best animated film of the year, it's a must see for fans of the genre.

Frank

On the surface Frank appears to be the polar opposite of Lenny Abramson’s prior works which were characterised by naturalistic dialogue and settings that emphasized the grey and drab side of Ireland. In contrast Frank sports a bright pallet and contains a group of incredibly eccentric characters including the titular Frank who wears a paper mache head. However, as the film progresses the eclectic tone and colourful visuals gently falls away to reveal a heartbreaking meditation on mental illness. 

We meet our protagonist Jon (Domhall Gleeson) wandering the beach attempting to find inspiration for his music. He is a mediocre keyboard player and vocalist but passionate about his music. Jon is our entry point into the world of Frank as well as our narrator. The voice-over narration, a device which is usually used as a lazy substitute for acting, in this case is used effectively. Jon’s voice provides the chaos with some form of structure and allows him to have a conversation with the only character capable of having a conversation in the film; himself. 

Jon meets and quickly falls in with Frank’s band, the Soronprbs (which has a deliberately unpronounceable name). A band whose music is equal parts strange and wonderful. They are in need of a new keyboard player because, when Jon meets them, their current one is trying to drown himself in the ocean. In a darkly comic nod to This is Spinal Tap we later learn than Jon is actually their third keyboard player. The band is managed by Don (Scoot McNairy), an ex-mental patient due to his sexual preference for manikins. There are four members beside Don and Jon but two of them are never fully fleshed out. They are given the clichéd excuse of being foreign and we soon forget about them. The remaining two are Maggie Gyllenhaal in a wonderfully petulant performance as the Theremin playing Clara and Michael Fassbender as Frank. 

The gamble of casting Fassbender in a completely masked role pays off as he delivers surely one of the greatest masked performances ever. The range of emotion he is able to express through the paper mache head is outstanding and it goes without saying that this is his most humorous role yet (dark though it be). He benefits from a well written script but still carries the film with his fine physical performance. 

The first two-thirds of the film, while refreshingly unique, suffers at times from inconsistent pacing. The editing fails to balance the conflict between the choppy montage sequences and the meandering band practice scenes. Where the film brings itself together is in the final act when the bright mask of the film is removed to reveal something profound underneath. As I hinted to earlier, one of the running themes of the film is mental illness and it deals with this hard subject in a nuanced way. 

More interesting questions arise in the film but I feel that to discuss them would take away from the viewing experience. All I can do is encourage you to seek out this film. It’s not a perfect film but in a summer full of blockbuster disappointment it’s a distinctly original treat.

Of Gods and Men

Of Gods and Men explores a variety of complex religious themes and ideas through the re-telling of a true story of a group of French monks caught up in the Algerian civil war. The film is not a simplistic showcase of good versus evil but is instead a deeply human tale of tolerance, fear and strength. No character falls into the trap of caricature, even the terrorists have depth and motive. The believability of the characters creates a realness that makes the film a more powerful emotional experience. 
The film begins by introducing us to the monks. The monastery in which they live is a quiet place and their routines consist of tending to the gardens, reading, praying and interacting with the Muslim townsfolk. Importantly one of the monks, Luc (Michael Lonsdale) acts as the town doctor. The relationship between the monks and the townsfolk is one of mutual respect and friendship. The cinematography is gorgeous, capturing the natural beauty of the landscape and the simplistic beauty of the monastery. 
The monk’s peaceful existence is shaken when word reaches the town that Islamist militants are taking over the countryside. The slow pace of the opening half is so calming that when violence breaks out the audience shares the peoples shock and worry. 
It becomes immediately apparent that the monk’s lives are in danger. The monk’s world slowly comes crumbling down around their epicentre which is the monastery. The French government and Algerian officials urge them to escape while the town’s people plead for them not to abandon them. The group of monks is dividend on what decision to make. Difficult questions cause repressed raw emotions to bubble to the surface. Is it okay to accept help from a corrupt government? When is it acceptable for the Sheppard to leave his flock? What good does martyrdom do? 
The group is rightly afraid and sometimes the fear takes control. Lambert Wilson (playing Christian) delivers a fine performance as a man struggling with leadership in a harrowing situation. The first confrontation scene is truly terrific, with trembling Christian putting on a brave face, a combination of fear and determination. 
It is hard not to be emotional for the second half of the film. The monk’s moral presence is felt ubiquitously. In every act of violence or cruelty, whether on screen or off, the monk’s sadness permeates from the screen. The honesty of the characters naturally draws the audience’s empathy. There is a specific scene which I will not reveal in which the worldly combines with the spiritual that results in one of the most powerful emotional climaxes I have ever seen. 
I highly recommend viewing this film regardless of one’s religious beliefs or background. The film shows both the good that can be achieved through belief as well as the bad. Luc quotes Pascal to remind us that “Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction”. The message the film preaches transcends any specific faith as it is one of love, peace, acceptance and harmony.