Spirit photography is nearly as old as photography itself. A mere fourteen years after cameras as we know them came into existence, people were using them to capture “ghosts” on film. Of course, these images were hoaxes, created with double-exposures and other tricks. Obvious fakery have not stopped people from believing that the impossible can be photographed. Not even physical film falling out of favor has stopped this. It's not just a western phenomenon either. In 2004, a horror film about ghosts appearing in photos would become popular in Thailand. After the explosion of interest in Asian horror in the 2000s, “Shutter” would become a global success as well. Considering I'm trying to watch more international horror films this October, this feels like a good introduction to a world of Thai horror.
While driving home from an old college buddy's wedding, photographer Tun and his girlfriend Jane strike a woman in the road. He encourages her to drive off without checking on the pedestrian. In the days afterwards, both of them begin to see and experience weird things. In particular, Tun begins to notice unexplained shadows and faces in his photos and feels a strange pain in his neck. Tun soon discovers that he is being haunted by the ghost of an old girlfriend of his, named Natre. When his friends start to commit suicide, he realizes the spirit's intentions are deadly.
I know very little about Thailand, so I can't comment on the specific ways “Shutter” reflects cultural anxieties. However, the film has a lot in common with Japanese ghost stories like “Ringu.” Like that film, “Shutter” sees technology and the supernatural interacting. Interestingly enough, physical photography would soon be as obsolete as “Ringu's” VHS tape, suggesting these ghosts are drawn to formats as dead as they are. Much like Sadako, Natre is a ghostly presence with long, black hair taken from traditional mythology. And like the onryo of Japanese lore, the Thai Mae Nak archetype goes after men who have wronged them. And simply putting the body to rest, the way to settle ghosts all over the world, isn't enough to undo this injustice. (Also interesting is the tonal differences you see in Thai cinema, such as a truly unfortunate moment in “Shutter” involving a pair of polished nails appearing under a bathroom stall.)
Ultimately, “Shutter” mostly distinguishes itself from similarly themed horror films because of its go-for-the-throat approaches to scares. The movie admittedly got me to jump a few times and produced a creepy mood. Much like "Ringu" did for Japanese horror, “Shutter” would put Thai horror on the global map. Of course, it received a mediocre American remake – though, oddly enough, directed by a Japanese filmmaker – that has been largely forgotten. The original stands on its own as an effective bit of cinematic spookery. The film didn't stop the death of physical film but it did provide a late-in-life creepy playground for the format. [7/10]
The original “Pumpkinhead” was not a box office success. Wikipedia tells me that it only made four million at the U.S. box office, against a three million dollar budget. That suggests to me that the film was basically a flop. Yet it must've been popular on VHS. The original's cult classic status would be confirmed when, six years later, a direct-to-video sequel was released. Horror sequel specialist Jeff Burr — formerly of "Stepfather II," "Texas Chainsaw Massacre III," and "Puppet Master" 4 and 5 — would step into the director's chair. KNB Effects would rebuild the creature that was created by Stan Winston and his studio. While "Pumpkinhead II: Blood Wings" didn't exactly turn an one-off into a long-running franchise, it has earned some fans over the years.
Back in the fifties, in the town of Ferren Woods, a group of high school bullies murdered a deformed backwoods kid named Tommy. They beat him and dropped his body down a mineshaft. Thirty-five years, a man named Sean moves back to Ferren Woods to become town sheriff. His teenage daughter, Jenny, immediately falls in with a bad crowd. The teens torment Ms. Osie, the old witch who used to guard Tommy. They accidentally burn down her cabin and jokingly take part in an occult ritual in her backyard. The ritual works though and successfully resurrects Tommy in the guise of Pumpkinhead. The demon reborn, he seeks revenge on the people who killed – all of whom remain active in the local town – as well as their children.
To further clarify that we are meant to enjoy the executions here, "Pumpkinhead II" makes most of its victims total assholes who are getting what's coming to them. All of the guys who murdered Tommy thirty years prior are totally unrepentant pricks. One of them – played by Kane Hodder in a trucker hat – is even shown to be sexually abusing his deaf sister in his single scene before his death. The teens are similarly obnoxious. Danny, the leader of the teens, is a tyrannical monster who pulls a gun on his own friends. Even those among the group who express a molecule of regret, such as Soliel Moon Frye's goth girl character, ultimately come off as more cartoonish than fully form. The intention is clear and brings the slasher formula full circle. Pumpkinhead is the antihero of this story, delivering justice to entitled dickwads who deserve to die.
The sequel – which, aside from the monster and the theme of revenge, doesn't have much to do with the original – definitely seems to delight in its own campiness. There's a subplot, apparent in one solitary scene, where the mayor considers making Pumpkinhead into a cryptozoological tourist attraction. The end credits are also scored to a hilariously sincere hair ballad and some sort of country/rap monologue. The only disappointment in "Pumpkinhead II: Blood Wings" is that the subtitle is misleading. It refers to the nickname the bullies give themselves and not to the demon sprouting wings, even though merchandise exists depicting just that. Considering a minor plot twist, the film probably should've been called "Son of Pumpkinhead" instead. Nevertheless, Burr and his team knew exactly what kind of movie they were making. This is gory junk food for the Fangoria crowd and proves totally satisfying on that level. [7/10]
When I first started selecting episodes of “Black Mirror” to include in the Halloween Horror-Fest Blog-a-Thon, “White Bear” seem to frequently reappear among the series' scariest installments. Yet the reoccurring visual of a woman in an animal mask chasing someone through an empty street struck me as so contrived and old hat, that I wasn't quick to check the episode out. “White Bear” concerns Victoria, a woman who awakens in an empty house with no idea how she got there. The TV broadcasts a strange symbol and tone. Everyone outside only seems interested in recording her with her phone. Except for a handful of masked individuals, who are pursuing her with the intent to kill. Victoria soon meets up with other people unaffected by this mass psychosis... But everything is not what it seems.
“Black Mirror's” central thesis of “What if technology was bad actually?” sets the series up for a preachy, obvious streak. The first half of “White Bear” seems to be a commentary on how we're all so obsessed with entertainment, that we loose our common empathy. Victoria is chased and terrorized by masked lunatics and all anyone can do is watch, glued to their screens. By making the main character amnesiac, and purposely withholding the specifics of what's happening, it makes the audience anticipate some sort of reveal. I was expecting this to be a “Running Man” style hunting humans game show or a twisted version of a video game, based on the weird pixelated flashbacks Victoria gets throughout the episode. Something about the dehumanizing effects of the screen or whatever.
“White Bear” is so devoted to delivering its message, that there's not much else to it. As a thriller, the episode only functions momentarily. The initial shock of our protagonist being chased through the streets by a killer wears off quickly enough. There's too much shakycam in a confrontation in a gas station for tension to build. A moment in the woods, where things go from bad to worst, just feels like pointless nihilism. (While bringing superior post-apocalyptic stories to mind. Of course the guy who offers help is evil!) The visual of a lady in a lamb mask and apron wielding an electric carving knife is hilariously un-scary to me and the episode weirdly banks on that too much. If you want to watch an episode of “Black Mirror” devoted to a extended chase scene, watch “Metalhead” instead. [5/10]
This is a title that popped up on my Letterboxd home page recently and I couldn't help but search it out. “Follow That Skirt” is a nudie cutie – a type of early pornography that depicts nudity in non-sexual contexts, so as to avoid the obscenity laws of the day – with a particularly demented perspective. The film follows an unnamed man who stalks the streets of San Francisco for women. He watches them disrobe in their homes before murdering them. We are made privy to his perverted thoughts, which reveal that his motivation for killing is born of jealousy and loathing towards women. The killer is also a transvestite, his cross-dressing depicted in detail in the last scene. That's about as much story as you'd expect from something like this.
Obviously, from a technical and narrative level, “Follow That Skirt” is incredibly crude. There's no synched sound, the only dialogue being the killer's demented thoughts conveyed in voice over. Jazzy music play over the entire film, banging and clanging away the whole time. The story is almost nonexistent, clearly being nothing but an excuse for attractive women to get naked on-screen. At 27 minutes long, watching ladies slowly strip in and out of their underwear does get a little tedious. (Even if the models on display are, if you don't mind me saying, quite shapely.) Visually, there is some surprisingly bright and expressionistic use of color here. But the gore and camerawork is unimpressive, which should come as no surprise.
No comments:
Post a Comment