tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85192874466561089212024-03-15T17:17:55.694+00:00Behind the CouchSafe fear in a domestic setting
James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comBlogger827125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-29602872761615682732024-03-15T12:32:00.001+00:002024-03-15T17:17:24.519+00:00The Soul Eater (2024)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGJ0qyzfIuQDBaaZBmevQtIJBQ6BmD-mb4ZsTgLS9v1SCysbwhJf08qOMt3jED3_wEOYqic4SjHmPZJZD5sTpj_-nsE831KDnX7KD5pwDlXZwdBAh87KHwL0q0xzkGjrvjJfklFg283bYqt4E4anS54mcd38PVJfJngU3AVdvJ1kNZxW4_FL2BqGW27NKR/s2550/The%20Soul%20Eater.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1426" data-original-width="2550" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGJ0qyzfIuQDBaaZBmevQtIJBQ6BmD-mb4ZsTgLS9v1SCysbwhJf08qOMt3jED3_wEOYqic4SjHmPZJZD5sTpj_-nsE831KDnX7KD5pwDlXZwdBAh87KHwL0q0xzkGjrvjJfklFg283bYqt4E4anS54mcd38PVJfJngU3AVdvJ1kNZxW4_FL2BqGW27NKR/w640-h358/The%20Soul%20Eater.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Adapted from Alexis Laipsker’s novel, and written by Annelyse Batrel and Ludovic Lefebvre, <i>The Soul Eater</i> is the latest offering from Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury,
who burst onto the scene with the infamous <i>Inside</i> (2007), a major title in the New French Extremity wave at the turn of the 21st century. Their work since, including blistering titles such as <i><a href="https://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2014/07/livid.html" target="_blank">Livid</a></i> (2011), <i>Among the Living</i> (2014) and <i>The Deep House</i> (2021), has demonstrated their willingness to push boundaries and step outside of convention. Theirs is a wholly distinctive approach to genre.<div><br /></div><div>Part gripping police procedural, part Gallic Gothic shocker - with shadowy traces of Folk Horror present in some striking imagery - <i>The Soul Eater </i>follows two detectives who are sent to the sleepy French mountain town of Roquenoir. Elizabeth Guardiano (Virginie Ledoyen), an inspector in the National Police, is investigating a series of gruesome murder-suicides, and Franck de Rolan (Paul Hamy), a cop from the other French police service, the National Gendarmerie, is searching for several missing local children. Before long, the pair realise their cases are connected by whispers of an old folk tale about a malevolent creature: a terrifying demonic incarnation known as the Soul Eater.</div><div><br /></div><div>With its troubling central mystery, deeply brooding, rural Gothic atmosphere, hostile, secretive locals, and haunted protagonists who seem trapped in a downward spiral into hopelessness, <i>The Soul Eater</i> is a compelling and deeply unsettling trip. Like much of the previous work of Bustillo and Maury, there is a strong emotional core with believable, flawed characters on a journey into absolute darkness, and an extreme, unflinching approach to depictions of violence and human depravity. A series of increasingly ominous twists thrusts the story into ever disturbing territory, and us along with it. When Elizabeth learns of the local legend of the Soul Eater, told to her by a traumatised young boy she finds hiding at the scene of his parents’ murder-suicide, the police procedural narrative seems poised to lurch into supernatural fantasy horror. However, the screenplay never goes where we expect, and keeps us on our toes and the edge of our seat, with its shoals of red-herrings and several further coiling twists.</div><div><br /></div><div>The pair’s investigation leads them to an abandoned, secret-filled hotel, the closure of which sent the town’s population into decline. They encounter a lot of resistance from residents and police. Are the local police incompetent, or deliberately obstructing the investigations? The mayor also appears to harbour resentment towards the them as she believes they are not sensitive to the plight of the town. As the harried detectives, Virginie Ledoyen and Paul Hamy deliver convincing and quietly powerful performances as two characters who have more in common than either would care to admit. Both have dark pasts touched by tragedy and both seem to be motivated by more than just solving the cases. The third act presents some out of nowhere twists, but the direction of Bustillo and Maury, and performances of Ledoyen and Hamy, ensure proceedings lose none of the carefully crafted tension.</div><div><br /></div><div>A searing, unsettling and brutally violent tale of grief, loss and corrupted innocence, which morphs and shifts and twists and turns all the way to its shocking, bloodily cathartic denouement.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><i>The Soul Eater </i>screened at Glasgow FrightFest on Friday 8th March. </b></div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-43738314048632803992024-03-13T22:38:00.000+00:002024-03-13T22:38:00.510+00:00The Deep Dark (2023)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ses5nGlpF5I0VaDlLlNM97izucyEGCVnw7bsPWrvWTqiiBHKzcZcEdUU5Sxo9rdt2RdNPtUpso7GfktfC-LU4sDurN4AOPiLbfwHKYP6mVRC2xm_DKIvPhQ39ji3-Ygfjn48cv862IJ8ZxIJUUaI5lN6TBoWpn9N6u9FTxZMnFEmQf3vFSCcS29npE7o/s3840/gueules-noires.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1602" data-original-width="3840" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ses5nGlpF5I0VaDlLlNM97izucyEGCVnw7bsPWrvWTqiiBHKzcZcEdUU5Sxo9rdt2RdNPtUpso7GfktfC-LU4sDurN4AOPiLbfwHKYP6mVRC2xm_DKIvPhQ39ji3-Ygfjn48cv862IJ8ZxIJUUaI5lN6TBoWpn9N6u9FTxZMnFEmQf3vFSCcS29npE7o/w640-h268/gueules-noires.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Written and directed by Mathieu Turi, <i>The Deep Dark</i> may not be a direct adaptation of the work of HP Lovecraft, but it is certainly a love letter to him, and its narrative unfurls within a world in which the Cthulhu mythos exists (with nods to the Necronomicon, Cthulhu, the Great Old Ones and the ‘mad Arab’ Abdul Alhazred). Set in Northern France in the 1950s, it tells of a group of miners who are tasked with escorting a professor deep underground so he can collect data for his research. It soon becomes evident, however, that the professor has an ulterior motive, and the discovery of an ancient crypt unleashes a primordial evil...<div><br /></div><div>Many of Lovecraft's stories tell of the existential horror experienced by his characters whose discovery of forbidden knowledge reveals unspeakable, incomprehensible truths about human existence, throwing everything we thought we knew into question. Inter-dimensional doorways are conjured and all manner of unknowable cosmic horrors lumber/crawl/slither through into our world. Madness and death ensue. Human life is rendered insignificant and futile under the cruel, hungry gaze of deep-space deities and ancient alien gods. The creature in Turi's film is revealed to be a mere harbinger of something much, much worse.</div><div><br /></div><div>Before we even get to the creature, we endure the daily horror and danger experienced by the miners as they go about their work. Tension comes from the stifling, claustrophobic confines of the mine and the men's hostility towards their new crew member Amir (Amir El Kacem). Most of the men are never really fleshed out beyond their nationalities (they're even called The Italian, The Spaniard etc.), but Turi's screenplay spends enough time with them, as they go about their daily work, to convey that they have a difficult job and are tough as nails. They are led by Roland (Samuel Le Bihan), a tough, no-nonsense former soldier. They're a tight knit crew, and an air of brawny machismo hangs thickly about them as they banter and bicker and try to suss out Amir. Lightly comedic moments come from Amir's desperate attempts to prove himself to the others.</div><div><br /></div><div>As in <i>Alien</i> (1979), the lives of the crew are apparently expendable – money changes hands between Professor Berthier (Jean-Hugues Anglade) and the manager of the mine, who allows for Roland's small crew to blast their way through into a older part of the mine so the professor can explore. This area is ominously referred to as The Devil’s Island, due to its horrific and deadly conditions. The monster itself, when we see it, is impressive, and created by practical effects, not CGI. Its power is ever so slightly diminished, however, as we arguably see too much of it, too early on. It is way more effective when relegated to the shadows. One of the most startling moments of the film occurs when we catch a glimpse of the creature's elongated fingers reaching out of its sarcophagus and clutching the side with a spidery terror of a hand. Another effective moment comes when we catch glimpses of it advancing towards an injured, panicked miner as he uses the flash of his camera to light the dark space and track its proximity. </div><div><br /></div><div>Turi keeps things taut and tight as he cranks the tension and grotesque violence (at one stage the creature communicates by speaking through a severed human head it clutches in its claws). His screenplay touches on issues of class and race (the original title of the film is <i>Gueules Noires</i>, apparently an antiquated French term for miners, and as Roland explains, it describes their mouths and faces darkened by coal dust, rendering them indistinguishable from one another and therefore equal) and concludes that we're all equally insignificant in the eyes of Cthulhu and its minions. A deep, dark delight of a monster movie. </div><div><br /></div><div><b><i>The Deep Dark</i> screened at Glasgow FrightFest on Friday 8th March. </b></div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-89594832773256446092024-03-10T23:15:00.002+00:002024-03-13T22:51:36.058+00:00Wake Up (2023)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-VWqRVMjjpYVncBCrwc0ZiJaewQCww3oKorD24Ex9i-dK80w_yFo15f6EmYSOLpraSiLnJFnfTbV7RO6_fhDP4w4zmpQyfVNgoXXX5RfFqIHJpmD9ijK8fU3WnAOgzW_eYL3tIKwFLsfNXY0xM656cR7EaUqHfNI_VduhMUiG61pBgWiBhXuDBSz2Bc_1/s1619/Wake%20Up%20cast.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1619" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-VWqRVMjjpYVncBCrwc0ZiJaewQCww3oKorD24Ex9i-dK80w_yFo15f6EmYSOLpraSiLnJFnfTbV7RO6_fhDP4w4zmpQyfVNgoXXX5RfFqIHJpmD9ijK8fU3WnAOgzW_eYL3tIKwFLsfNXY0xM656cR7EaUqHfNI_VduhMUiG61pBgWiBhXuDBSz2Bc_1/w640-h426/Wake%20Up%20cast.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Directed by RKSS (Roadkill Superstars, aka trio François Simard, Anouk Whissell, and Yoann-Karl Whissell) and written by Alberto Marini, this merciless slasher features a cast of idealistic Gen Z activists who are violently picked off by a deranged security guard after they sneak into a huge furniture store to stage an environmental protest. While it touches on some very current social topics - environmental activism, nonviolent civil disobedience, social media, and arguably even corporate employee vetting processes - at heart, <i>Wake Up</i> is an old-school slasher, with a simple premise that is well executed (sorry!). Extraneous frills like characterisation, motivation and backstories are trimmed right down, leaving a lean, mean, cat-and-mouse narrative, with brutal violence and a certain sense of hopelessness running throughout.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>When the store closes in the evening, the gang come out of hiding to spray graffiti and deface displays with bags of blood procured from a butcher. They film everything to post to social media in an effort to expose the company's harmful environmental impact. After an encounter with the two security guards - actually two brothers; one a heavy drinker, the other a burly 'primitive hunting' fanatic - results in an accidental death, things become very taut indeed. It's now a life or death fight for survival as the hulking security guard sets deadly traps, taunts his prey over the Tannoy system, and closes in for the kill.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like RKSS's previous titles <i>Turbo Kid</i> (2015) and <i>Summer of '84 </i>(2018), <i>Wake Up </i>features younger characters pitted against ruthless and relentless authority figures. There's something like socio-political commentary at play in the inevitable collision of a group of diverse 'woke' youths (whose actions are clearly modelled on the likes of Extinction Rebellion and Just Stop Oil) and the middle-aged, white, working-class men who work for the large corporate company. Marini's screenplay sidesteps the worrying trend in tabloid (and some mainstream) media of demonising and dehumanising activist groups, instead presenting us with the actual people behind the headlines: in this case, a group of young, naïve, idealistic people who want to make a positive change in the world. None of the characters are fleshed out beyond a few traits that help us tell them apart, but they are still believable as a group of young people who have made certain choices with the best of intentions, and those choices have backfired spectacularly. When the shit hits the fan, they are vulnerable, and completely out of their depth. As Kevin, the hulking security guard, Northern Irish actor Turlough Convery is immensely imposing, giving us momentary flashes of vulnerability and desperation to up the ante.</div><div><br /></div><div>With its giant retail shopping centre setting, <i>Wake Up</i> has distinct echoes of <i>The Initiation</i> (1984) and <i>Chopping Mall</i> (1986), and in its brutal depiction of humans as trophy prey, it echoes <i>Wilderness</i> (2006) and gruesome pre-code horror <i>The Most Dangerous Game</i> (1932). It is also peppered with striking visuals, like the animal masks worn by the activists, and the scene where the gang are doused in black-light fluorescent paint so Kevin can hunt them in the dark when he cuts the power. A bleak, nihilistic film with buckets of suspense, chaos and carnage. </div></div><div><br /></div><div><b><i>Wake Up</i> screened at Glasgow FrightFest on Friday 8th March.</b></div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-27009411142729382452024-02-24T14:07:00.000+00:002024-02-24T14:07:08.292+00:00Lurking on the Bookshelves: Queer for Fear: Horror Film and the Queer Spectator As a filmic genre, horror has always contained subtle Queer undertones and themes. Even before explicit representation was accepted, queerness was present in subtextual form. From the work of out gay filmmaker James Whale in the 1930s (including <i>Frankenstein</i> [1931] and <i>The Old Dark House </i>[1932]) and the coded lesbian characters of <i>Dracula's Daughter</i> (1936) and <i>Cat People </i>(1942), through to the pansexuality of <i>Dracula </i>(1958), the internalised homophobia of <i>A Nightmare on Elm Street 2</i> (1985) and the genderqueer Cenobites of Clive Barker's <i>Hellraiser </i>(1987), horror has always discreetly (and not so discreetly!) featured stories of the marginalised and the outsiders, vilified and rejected by society, 'othered' and rendered monstrous. <div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfY8iRz9oCv4yXga6hRILQrv5cJyBhTjh2fsUjRCPRmC661vkRiJ6U2XQExYB_aUBRRsJfGCAWxNnuMm3rXt_JXi5xmc78FecQjtf0Vub9DFvy07xr2lVqZN3B7zVJY-5fggoWB_vrc0U57lXKh6UzsbF488NKK4XNI85036t0woJlK9IHTKF0TDBfmflg/s1024/Queer%20for%20Fear%20cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="654" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfY8iRz9oCv4yXga6hRILQrv5cJyBhTjh2fsUjRCPRmC661vkRiJ6U2XQExYB_aUBRRsJfGCAWxNnuMm3rXt_JXi5xmc78FecQjtf0Vub9DFvy07xr2lVqZN3B7zVJY-5fggoWB_vrc0U57lXKh6UzsbF488NKK4XNI85036t0woJlK9IHTKF0TDBfmflg/s16000/Queer%20for%20Fear%20cover.jpg" /></a></div><br />Published in September last year, <i>Queer for Fear: Horror Film and the Queer Spectator</i> is a ground-breaking academic study of the relationship Queer people have with horror films. Author Heather O. Petrocelli is an interdisciplinary scholar, working across film studies, queer theory and public history, and conducting research engaging with and rendering visible queer stories and experiences. In <i>Queer for Fear</i>, she delves into and expands upon decades of film theory that focuses on the subtextual Queer readings of horror films, offering up an understanding of how and why LGBTQ+ audiences have a distinctive relationship to horror. According to Petrocelli "Growing up, I was a kid who knew they were queer and loved horror films, both facts I often hid from others to feel safer or not so out of place. This changed in my 20s when I sat in a movie theatre and had the revelatory experience of watching horror films with a mostly queer audience. From that moment on, I knew that I wasn’t alone and suspected the queer connection to the horror genre was distinctive. This perspective fuelled my pursuit of doctoral studies and informed my thesis work to determine how and why queers have a distinctive relationship to horror."</div><div><br /></div><div>Petrocelli's painstaking research included gleaning data from over 4,100 survey participants’ responses and 15 in-depth oral histories to explore the opinions, viewing habits and tastes of LGBTQ+ audiences. She explains "I analyse the relationship queer people have to horror with a qualitative and quantitative study, building on decades of theory that had emphasised horror’s queerness as being subtextual, allegorical and figurative. This ground-breaking study of the queer spectator of horror film expands theoretical discourse with empirical data to evidence that queer embodiment has ontological and phenomenological connections to the horror genre."</div><div><br /></div><div>Petrocelli's data concludes that horror is queer to the queer spectator. <i>Queer for Fear </i>further establishes that a significant percentage of queer spectators actively and therapeutically engage with horror to work through their queer trauma, and that they knowingly have a camp relationship to horror. The book also demonstrates the importance of the queered presentation of horror films to queer audiences with live cinema screenings that feature live drag performance, examined through case studies of Peaches Christ’s <i>Midnight Mass</i> and Carla Rossi’s <i>Queer Horror.</i>
<i>Queer for Fear</i> is an overdue contribution to the fields of queer, film, horror, trauma, camp and live cinema studies.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can find more info on <i>Queer for Fear</i>, and pick up a copy, <a href="https://www.uwp.co.uk/book/queer-for-fear/" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-34642539475681365912024-02-12T22:59:00.001+00:002024-02-13T07:22:29.704+00:00Faceless Men, Women in Black, and Crossroad Phantoms <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUljo0M-ifyqyXBolTcjOUGgblzcsYTe4PvtBhPkPUhn3AsRp1lKkCaJ4dbV47rAckQbpBDEdazpfIZEahHQ-kuQe0BFglTNFb37LIAwB0Kz3_UNBvxzC0AQqiCx_bp6TADNhXTGraQbf-tZuI7hDCyjE4Y5BXwgO6NpIGBv7wlPC_HP18i0kIDfhbtrG/s1024/faceless%20person.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUljo0M-ifyqyXBolTcjOUGgblzcsYTe4PvtBhPkPUhn3AsRp1lKkCaJ4dbV47rAckQbpBDEdazpfIZEahHQ-kuQe0BFglTNFb37LIAwB0Kz3_UNBvxzC0AQqiCx_bp6TADNhXTGraQbf-tZuI7hDCyjE4Y5BXwgO6NpIGBv7wlPC_HP18i0kIDfhbtrG/w640-h426/faceless%20person.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Head over to YouTube to check out the latest instalment of <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uXbtwmZh4Dw&t=177s" target="_blank">Ghosts with Goblin</a></b>, a series dedicated to the exploration of ghost stories and real life encounters with the paranormal and supernatural (selected and read from <a href="https://www.yourghoststories.com/">www.yourghoststories.com</a>). Written, presented and produced by my good friend Marie Robinson, each episode relates to a particular theme, and relevant aspects of science, folklore, psychology and parapsychology are discussed. This week's episode focuses on spooky encounters with apparitions without faces, spectral women in black, and various crossroad phantoms. <p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-5754501754832309862023-12-08T14:18:00.003+00:002023-12-08T14:18:47.737+00:00Ghost Stories at Christmas <i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOcmJci_-iMrLr8s-K-tHcg2gtYaNFPmmtle9DLUiCBhrlaaSwBe8KplUltK8ngBDzHXtoBI5JC8EyHZwmd_FL8GoeLzm27NBRA6S0yG2ZelzfLenniCmRdqzFstCJ3LCOsJkBSXd-ySno6X6n0C9frBOzhuZPwSOWrZg5njXLSoPRyWwygXkGqZu_OF6U/s1020/Ghost_stories.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="544" data-original-width="1020" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOcmJci_-iMrLr8s-K-tHcg2gtYaNFPmmtle9DLUiCBhrlaaSwBe8KplUltK8ngBDzHXtoBI5JC8EyHZwmd_FL8GoeLzm27NBRA6S0yG2ZelzfLenniCmRdqzFstCJ3LCOsJkBSXd-ySno6X6n0C9frBOzhuZPwSOWrZg5njXLSoPRyWwygXkGqZu_OF6U/w640-h342/Ghost_stories.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />“It always is Christmas Eve, in a ghost story.”</i> Jerome K. Jerome, <i>Told After Supper</i> (1891) <div><br /></div><div>The peculiar British tradition of sharing ghost stories at Christmastime is an old one. Historically, December 25th has a close link to pre-Christian solstice festivals that regarded mid-winter as a significant time when the light dies, the nights grow longer, and (similarly to Samhain) the veil between the world of the living and the dead becomes wispy. The earth sleeps, ready to reawaken in spring. Early Christian beliefs held that souls in purgatory ‘were most active on the day before a holy day, and thus more likely to intrude into our world’ (Kirk, p7, 2020). During the dark nights of Yuletide, Christmas Eve is one of the longest nights of the year in the northern hemisphere. The tradition of telling ghost stories at Christmas, particularly on Christmas Eve, dates to the Victorian period, a time of great scientific and technological advancement. Perhaps the more people came to understand about the world around them, the more their thoughts turned to the world beyond... Seances became mainstays of the parlour, while printing technology enabled the production of countless publications of short stories, ‘penny dreadfuls’ and ever-popular ghost stories.</div><div><br /></div><div>Indeed, there is many a ghost story connected to Christmas, perhaps most famously <i>A Christmas Carol</i> (1843) by Charles Dickens. The framing narrative of Henry James’s classic novella <i>The Turn of the Screw</i> (1898) features a group of guests at a Christmas party gathering before an open fire to listen to the telling of a ghost story. Renowned medieval scholar and Provost of King's College, Cambridge, M.R. James has long been regarded as one of the finest purveyors of the ghost story in the English language. He wrote many of his creepy tales specifically to be read aloud at cosy Christmas gatherings. His stories are usually populated by bookish academics whose insistence on prying into ancient tomes, forbidden manuscripts and other esoteric materials plunges them into a world of malevolent entities, ghoulish spectres, and terrifying encounters. The following was originally printed in the Special Collections’ edition of James's <i>More Ghost Stories</i> (1911):</div><div><br /></div><div><i>"If during the Yule-tide you wish thoroughly to enter into the spirit of the season, procure a good tumblerful of creature-comfort, steaming, with a trifle of powdered nutmeg in it, some thin lemon peel, and a grain of sugar, place it on a small stand beside your old arm-chair, in which you will have comfortably deposited yourself, and well gently inhaling the Virginian fumes in the presence of a cheerful Yule-log fire commence reading the 'Ghost Stories of an Antiquary', by M.R. James… On rising to retire to bed, say, when the clock is striking the hour of midnight, you will be heartily glad of a brave companion, who will assist you in ascertaining that all bolts and bars are scrupulously fastened, that all doors are locked, that there are no weird arms coming out from behind any curtains."</i></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8SH06Q1Kd3ItBLhnVEeq2O2SzPTjWY5GOwpkroHritaq9XLQMGCp7KMUQEadkcyq3KvBJ8jmBfdA9-7kpBjdbV3mQnZ24J_7vJ9Y-DPcfXk1ZtSXSpvp0IFgPfiqqbCS8nYWigDVbGvznlmBfvRQ7v7r-nO8AW8ghbC6bzcpjvKCYAbhYaYZ4qT1qsk9K/s736/ghost.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="580" data-original-width="736" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8SH06Q1Kd3ItBLhnVEeq2O2SzPTjWY5GOwpkroHritaq9XLQMGCp7KMUQEadkcyq3KvBJ8jmBfdA9-7kpBjdbV3mQnZ24J_7vJ9Y-DPcfXk1ZtSXSpvp0IFgPfiqqbCS8nYWigDVbGvznlmBfvRQ7v7r-nO8AW8ghbC6bzcpjvKCYAbhYaYZ4qT1qsk9K/w640-h504/ghost.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />So, in the cosy tradition of sharing ghost stories at this time of year, here’s a few recommendations…</div><div><br /></div><div><i>The Dead Smile</i> (1899) by F. Marion Crawford</div><div>When a debauched patriarch dies with a morbid rictus grin on his face, his son and niece become enshrouded in a gothic nightmare of hereditary evil, ancestral secrets, and family curses. It all culminates with a shocking discovery in the family crypt after a gloomy Christmas party.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>The Shadow</i> (1910) by Edith Nesbit</div><div>Nesbit is an unfairly overlooked master of the ghost story, and this is one of her finest. The framing narrative features a housekeeper relaying a ghost story to a group of young women at a Christmas party. In the story, a love triangle between a married couple and their female friend conjures something sinister as they are haunted by a shadow that could be a manifestation of guilt. Lust, shame, terror, and unrequited love swirl together in this hauntingly ambiguous tale.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Lost Hearts</i> (1895) by M.R. James</div><div>A young orphan is sent to live with his much older cousin at a remote country house in deepest, darkest Lincolnshire. The cousin is an alchemist obsessed with a forthcoming celestial event, and the boy begins to have troubling dreams and visions of two spectral children with holes where their hearts should be. The story unfurls throughout the winter months and culminates during the Spring equinox, as James twistedly subverts a time of year usually associated with rebirth and hope.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Herself</i> (1894) by Mary Elizabeth Braddon</div><div>Spending the winter months in a villa surrounded by orange groves in the south of Italy, Lota is dismayed to find one of the rooms particularly dark and dank. When she discovers an antique mirror and begins to spend more and more time locked away from the world, gazing into its dark depths, she begins to lose her vitality, her will to live. Braddon creates a haunting atmosphere and provides a barbed commentary on Victorian gender roles and stereotypes.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>The Beckoning Fair One</i> (1911) by Oliver Onions</div><div>In this psychological creeper, a writer rents a derelict house in a little triangular ‘square’ in London to finish his novel. He begins to feel a presence, and suspects the house has ‘a tenant other than himself.’ Eerily captivated by the sound of a woman brushing her hair, he descends into solitude and madness, which could be supernatural, or brought about by his writer’s block. Onions ensures a chilling opacity lingers throughout.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>The Open Door</i> (1882) by Charlotte Riddell</div><div>After he loses his job at an auctioneer’s office, a young clerk undertakes an assignment to solve the mystery of a supposedly haunted house. An inheritance plot, an unsolved murder, and a door which will not remain closed all feature in this story by Carrickfergus-born Riddell, who masterfully builds an atmosphere of unease. Like many of her best ghost stories, this one features a house filled with secrets connected to a past misdeed involving greed and malfeasance.</div><div><br /></div><div><u>References</u></div><div><u><br /></u></div><div>Kirk, Tanya (ed.) (2020) <i>Chill Tidings: Dark Tales of the Christmas Season</i>, London: British Library.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>This article was originally published in UCL's library staff newsletter, <b>The Peer Review: December 2022. </b></i></div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-25168712186125321802023-11-27T15:14:00.000+00:002023-11-27T15:14:14.950+00:00Raw (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC_7rS2gVz2YOSBe5UJKdNuP5po2btzz1tiI-oaHAaa3nRYaYF0QBG0l9Kkh5_aKcsxz5ZGiWd919fA3M1GXt_aaiVRCmuBG5fXQHwz4eIk0OlcycJH93DMyIXxqzQ58WaDa5uZ6rd_jJp0TNrL-hXOH93ixpOZlbFnvocXIYgyKgKX1DiGmg13GVXuwVS/s640/Raw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="359" data-original-width="640" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC_7rS2gVz2YOSBe5UJKdNuP5po2btzz1tiI-oaHAaa3nRYaYF0QBG0l9Kkh5_aKcsxz5ZGiWd919fA3M1GXt_aaiVRCmuBG5fXQHwz4eIk0OlcycJH93DMyIXxqzQ58WaDa5uZ6rd_jJp0TNrL-hXOH93ixpOZlbFnvocXIYgyKgKX1DiGmg13GVXuwVS/w640-h360/Raw.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Written and directed by Julie Ducournau, <i>Raw</i> tells of veterinary student Justine (Garance Marillier), who is subjected to a series of humiliating and cruel initiations by the older students. Among the degrading rituals, Justine, a lifelong vegetarian, is forced to eat raw meat by her older sister Alexia (Ella Rumpf). This act awakens within Justine an insatiable bloodlust and craving for human flesh…<p><i>Raw</i> is an unsettling, full-blooded odyssey of self-discovery and actualisation told from a fiercely feminist vantage. It stalks similar territory to titles such as <i><a href="http://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2012/06/ginger-snaps.html" target="_blank">Ginger Snaps</a></i> and <i><a href="http://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2022/02/the-company-of-wolves-1984.html" target="_blank">The Company of Wolves</a></i> in its unwavering exploration of female sexuality (which historically has been shamed or out-rightly denied by patriarchal discourse). Indeed, there are several irresistible parallels with <i>Ginger Snaps</i>, not least the complex, often toxic bond between the sisters, and the intense cravings Justine experiences as her body reacts to her new appetites. And, like the Fitzgerald sisters, Justine begins to gain a deeper understanding of her own identity through her descent into othered ‘monstrosity.’ Unlike the aforementioned titles, <i>Raw</i> doesn't feature moments of outward, physical transformation, as Ducournau opts to use the figure of the cannibal to explore notions of adult sexuality. The protagonist gradually attains agency and self-determination through an unyielding appetite for human flesh. </p><p>While themes of body-horror and transformation underpin the story, Ducournau's screenplay maintains a strong focus on characterisation. The sisters, and their bond, is always centred as they work towards understanding who they are and the two very separate paths they are on. As the story progresses, the dynamics of the relationship shift as Justine gradually emerges from Alexia's shadow, which creates tension between the two. When Alexia lures Justine to the morgue after a drunken party, events culminate in a nightmarish incident, the humiliating aftermath of which parallels an act of revenge porn, revealing Alexia’s deep-rooted jealousy of her younger sibling. Justine’s transformation is further reflected in her changing relationship with her gay roommate Adrien (Rabah Nait Oufella), which creates an uneasy tension. The way Justine observes and interacts with him gradually shifts from shy, curious glances, to strong, hungry gazes. Self-assured Adrien eventually becomes a confidant to her and this close connection intensifies when they have sex and Justine has to restrain herself by biting down on her own arm. </p><p>Ducournau lenses Justine's transformation in a highly clinical, corporeal manner, never rendering it fantastical. Even the gorier moments are never sensationalised, ensuring they have an incredibly potent impact. Justine initially exists in a transitional twilight space that hovers between childhood and adulthood. She arrives at university from a very protective home life, mollycoddled by her parents. When her taste for flesh is awakened, a ravenous sexuality is also unshackled, and Justine transitions from a place of innocence and curiosity to desire, determination and power. The university setting works to contextualise Ducournau’s detached observational approach to exploring Justine's transition, which is lensed in as matter-of-factly a manner as that of Justine and her classmates observing the dissection of animal carcasses in class. </p><p><i>Raw</i> is an immersive, intimate body-horror with compelling, fully fleshed characters and searing with unforgettable imagery. </p>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-44890059245985829432023-11-15T22:27:00.001+00:002023-11-15T22:27:46.540+00:00Stories of High Strangeness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvG7OZ37_BFujLKwV6JS3lb2Mdd8I6kt3ffIJ00iJoD0lm8RP4NVm-1H3OMT3ISuWqtFmXV4xWxB6CHTtzlVML5YzjpADBVbYrsEb0_1XvQyJS95uV-RHV5JdMWnYTvMKkOCL6b3YvgR1_nqm7Le-3G-2xg2BN97lQ1BWEamQUv-JFK9t4vqpYLiVPLoxK/s4000/Green%20Our%20Lady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvG7OZ37_BFujLKwV6JS3lb2Mdd8I6kt3ffIJ00iJoD0lm8RP4NVm-1H3OMT3ISuWqtFmXV4xWxB6CHTtzlVML5YzjpADBVbYrsEb0_1XvQyJS95uV-RHV5JdMWnYTvMKkOCL6b3YvgR1_nqm7Le-3G-2xg2BN97lQ1BWEamQUv-JFK9t4vqpYLiVPLoxK/w640-h480/Green%20Our%20Lady.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>UFO sightings, encounters with fairy folk and glimpses of shape-shifting dogs are but some of the subjects featured on the latest instalment of <b>Ghosts with Goblin</b>. Head over to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Da0rYfjwhA" target="_blank">Goblin Kwain</a> on YouTube to listen to my friend Marie and I as we read a few spooky tales of paranormal encounters... </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-37695612518065106522023-09-18T15:22:00.002+01:002023-09-18T15:22:58.722+01:00For Night Will Come (2023)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY0LIhqMgMZleOivFEWzfsgNTubt21Gk2yoaVJSH877LoAiQIne6B0e-g7BaIOu-uy5ERVrjrjioaPgdkzsuxKQK19Bb3ouigTIT8YXoS8cxZXIhfDYyCn39wapGdVEo6tToLNVVeZI8jcu4OgIytOoPF1FNbck7-RY4QDOheAruX1kZfwL9PVNrkwq2Z_/s1023/For%20night%20will%20come.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1023" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY0LIhqMgMZleOivFEWzfsgNTubt21Gk2yoaVJSH877LoAiQIne6B0e-g7BaIOu-uy5ERVrjrjioaPgdkzsuxKQK19Bb3ouigTIT8YXoS8cxZXIhfDYyCn39wapGdVEo6tToLNVVeZI8jcu4OgIytOoPF1FNbck7-RY4QDOheAruX1kZfwL9PVNrkwq2Z_/w640-h428/For%20night%20will%20come.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />When they move to a quiet suburban neighbourhood, the Ferals appear to be a very normal family. However, they have a dark secret concerning their teenaged son Philémon, and as he begins to fall for his neighbour Camila, his thirst for human blood becomes harder to resist, threatening the family's well rehearsed cover...<div><br /></div><div>Read my <a href="https://www.eyeforfilm.co.uk/review/for-night-will-come-2023-film-review-by-james-gracey" target="_blank">full review</a> at <b>Eye for Film</b>. </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-49446737660743609992023-09-11T22:36:00.004+01:002023-09-11T22:36:52.216+01:00It Follows (2014)<i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHMC6BoKruMdodjqEOJAlC_v3lQgPly6X0nWaNVnI2n6SRvMn-HSyXDvc-FUksMAYxRAg4Rh2So0W0xA9tz0pCw8sWCR21j21FfzEd7hMze4EyR_JneRTn7fDIE35sOg9noe3KaUnOzSL2H4xEX8NBV1AVYJVyT3WvT604H08UUiCQp0-WTpOaqt_RXJ4-/s1280/It%20Follows%20beach%20death.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="1280" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHMC6BoKruMdodjqEOJAlC_v3lQgPly6X0nWaNVnI2n6SRvMn-HSyXDvc-FUksMAYxRAg4Rh2So0W0xA9tz0pCw8sWCR21j21FfzEd7hMze4EyR_JneRTn7fDIE35sOg9noe3KaUnOzSL2H4xEX8NBV1AVYJVyT3WvT604H08UUiCQp0-WTpOaqt_RXJ4-/w640-h268/It%20Follows%20beach%20death.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />It Follows</i> is a deeply unsettling, yet beautifully produced coming of age creeper. The story of a young woman (Maika Monroe) who is relentlessly stalked by an unknown supernatural force after a sexual encounter, it taps into primal fears such as death, abandonment, betrayal, and social ostracism. Hailed as a modern horror classic, it entrenches itself in the logic of grim and bloody fairy tales in which youngsters must fend for themselves and use their wits to outsmart and survive an evil adversary.<div><br /></div><div>A brand new 4K UHD/Blu-ray release by Second Sight Films boasts a plethora of rich, full-bodied bonus features for the connoisseur and casual viewer alike. Read my <a href="https://www.eyeforfilm.co.uk/dvdreview/it-follows-blu-ray-review-by-james-gracey" target="_blank">full review of the bonus features</a> over at Eye for Film.</div><div><br /></div><div>Read my review of <i>It Follows</i> <a href="http://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2015/03/it-follows.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-61792582822590105622023-09-04T11:59:00.001+01:002023-09-04T11:59:18.507+01:00The Vourdalak (2023)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLF1dFFNEnF7ZuaoisFHo3T8VCmH00FNfHLxTo12ukc7HbRzdanX5ZK3FnRzTBRTXypGVLK5J4QoAgXGFdWWXU7qmhtKBmB8fabiDRttIdYc7nt3OkHD_Yqz3IV8KGMYsHqZd-dSaF4yd6lvw3v6Ka8fovRmqELqukUd6d2dd_JkWkqsdrDzx2gDBDCb7v/s1920/the%20vourdalak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="804" data-original-width="1920" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLF1dFFNEnF7ZuaoisFHo3T8VCmH00FNfHLxTo12ukc7HbRzdanX5ZK3FnRzTBRTXypGVLK5J4QoAgXGFdWWXU7qmhtKBmB8fabiDRttIdYc7nt3OkHD_Yqz3IV8KGMYsHqZd-dSaF4yd6lvw3v6Ka8fovRmqELqukUd6d2dd_JkWkqsdrDzx2gDBDCb7v/w640-h268/the%20vourdalak.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Based on a 19th century Gothic novella by Aleksey Tolstoy (previously adapted for cinema by Mario Bava as a segment in his 1963 anthology, <i><a href="https://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2009/09/black-sabbath.html" target="_blank">Black Sabbath</a></i>), <i>The Vourdalak</i> is the debut feature film from French writer-director Adrien Beau. It tells of the Marquis d'Urfé (Kacey Mottet Klein), an emissary of the King of France who seeks shelter with a family when he becomes lost travelling through Eastern Europe. The family are anxiously awaiting the return of their patriarch, Gorcha, who has gone to capture an outlaw. Before leaving, he forewarned his family that if he does not return within six days, he has been killed and, if he reappears, they must refuse him entry to the house as he has become a vourdalak; a walking corpse returned from the grave seeking the blood of its loved ones...<div><br /></div><div>Head over to <a href="https://www.eyeforfilm.co.uk/review/the-vourdalak-2023-film-review-by-james-gracey" target="_blank">Eye for Film</a> to read my full review.</div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-9251429908373240532023-08-28T12:08:00.007+01:002023-08-31T23:49:49.982+01:00Bitten (2023)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD55832ahu0mEt8YZsB7c-OwFoK__aJLDDNWKjCU74tMyXEUNR1RVmUuEBC7tXtfK7L21KxytXSvtEuHGJPQShJqcdepgz72cxpsNeZdHZzJj-qob2fy1PDcU3M3W010ycnQyOwVQCzh5cBvOTNRtGhF5DfB56a-GiAXddsprg5rOgx-hPSMPa7ccMKFSr/s800/Bitten.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD55832ahu0mEt8YZsB7c-OwFoK__aJLDDNWKjCU74tMyXEUNR1RVmUuEBC7tXtfK7L21KxytXSvtEuHGJPQShJqcdepgz72cxpsNeZdHZzJj-qob2fy1PDcU3M3W010ycnQyOwVQCzh5cBvOTNRtGhF5DfB56a-GiAXddsprg5rOgx-hPSMPa7ccMKFSr/w640-h360/Bitten.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Convinced she has only one more day to live, Françoise and her friend run away from their convent boarding school and hitch a lift to a party in a vast chateau in the middle of the woods. Here, amid decadence and occultist dalliances, she encounters various lost souls, including a sullen party guest who claims to be a vampire, as she struggles with fiery, prophetic visions and a sense that time is running out.<div><br /><div>Read my full review at <a href="https://www.eyeforfilm.co.uk/review/bitten-2023-film-review-by-jamse-gracey" target="_blank">Eye for Film</a>.</div></div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-24046631977415482452023-08-21T20:57:00.010+01:002024-02-12T23:22:59.269+00:00Harbingers of Death<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuBkHK1dV4GT2bwvaPKu_Y6cXR8cs6EDibvpn79DFIpvmSex9i32pj4gvUNVdS3nQ3g-ayESotpqb9l-4GUYZWjgpgJ1cILwby9-wQW3lMhzfICAru11DeqOY8WtvsBWO9f-KkO1qa2KY9VxtlgwdN-qZmf6gieqP6QM7I56B8VBS76s2FUdOqQ39PSZR/s1280/harbingers%20of%20death.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuBkHK1dV4GT2bwvaPKu_Y6cXR8cs6EDibvpn79DFIpvmSex9i32pj4gvUNVdS3nQ3g-ayESotpqb9l-4GUYZWjgpgJ1cILwby9-wQW3lMhzfICAru11DeqOY8WtvsBWO9f-KkO1qa2KY9VxtlgwdN-qZmf6gieqP6QM7I56B8VBS76s2FUdOqQ39PSZR/w640-h360/harbingers%20of%20death.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>My dear friend Marie Robinson, a writer and folklorist from Missouri, has recorded a new video for <b>Ghosts with Goblin</b>, her YouTube series dedicated to eerie folklore, ghost stories, urban legends and tales of the paranormal. The latest instalment is an exploration of harbingers of death from around the world, including the Welsh Gwrach y Rhibyn (Witch of Rhibyn) and the Irish Death Coach (Coiste Bodhar, meaning 'silent coach'). Join us, as we delve into and read spooky accounts of people's experiences with harbingers of death...<div><br /></div><div>You can watch/listen <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tAarGW1s0A&t=177s" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-55372429979272464912023-08-07T13:29:00.000+01:002023-08-07T13:29:18.715+01:00Summoning The Spirit (2023)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNY0J83EXAKy4caWPF4_DyuQO2KcJem4dSNn9-PIK74ton-zxTGNdPj3dHc0YXaX67RG1_-XZsVPM9vMOKJwD9yK8nFcuDcX3B0Y8snWa7es3xMlYINLp5Z9eiogEOs4nkoEXFNgjRhPkBf5nWpehT--hA1wtVLMSnnhD20VKBPt_SEli8oM7hdwxNbt7/s1200/Summoning-the-Spirit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNY0J83EXAKy4caWPF4_DyuQO2KcJem4dSNn9-PIK74ton-zxTGNdPj3dHc0YXaX67RG1_-XZsVPM9vMOKJwD9yK8nFcuDcX3B0Y8snWa7es3xMlYINLp5Z9eiogEOs4nkoEXFNgjRhPkBf5nWpehT--hA1wtVLMSnnhD20VKBPt_SEli8oM7hdwxNbt7/w640-h360/Summoning-the-Spirit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />A city couple relocating to a home in the forest discover a commune on the neighbouring land is home to a cult of sasquatch worshippers harbouring sinister secrets... <div><br /></div><div>Head over to <a href="https://www.eyeforfilm.co.uk/review/summoning-the-spirit-2023-film-review-by-james-gracey" target="_blank">Eye for Film</a> to read my full review. </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-62829830909174192792023-07-16T15:32:00.002+01:002023-08-07T17:43:20.224+01:00Jekyll and Hyde<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiioyOrg7JAbXnpHuFnMmZymm90i-e_Pk1cqxBKyd_M9aDsKtuX2GAK-FNU-zHfoKS0tKcQ32y4XNhMM0AWAvqLu8rjHqX6YSC-jMc27ncVIGxEJq7U4faxZfp9nknjLkvJl8StzPbDBJ4DGnT_L3sJO2Si-nWu1UeZbvME_p2y9tixQHgzyVsQTW3W3op5/s2048/Jekyll-and-Hyde.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1448" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiioyOrg7JAbXnpHuFnMmZymm90i-e_Pk1cqxBKyd_M9aDsKtuX2GAK-FNU-zHfoKS0tKcQ32y4XNhMM0AWAvqLu8rjHqX6YSC-jMc27ncVIGxEJq7U4faxZfp9nknjLkvJl8StzPbDBJ4DGnT_L3sJO2Si-nWu1UeZbvME_p2y9tixQHgzyVsQTW3W3op5/w452-h640/Jekyll-and-Hyde.jpeg" width="452" /></a></div><br />Written and directed by Jennifer Dick, and adapted from Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic Gothic novella, <i>Jekyll and Hyde</i> is the latest production from Glasgow based theatre company, Bard in the Botanics. It tells of Gabriel Utterson, a solicitor who investigates a series of strange, horrifying occurrences involving the renowned Dr Henry Jekyll, and a murderous brute named Edward Hyde. Utterson eventually discovers that the two men are one and the same, as Jekyll's primal, violent urges are made flesh in the form of Hyde.<div><br /></div><div>Performed by a cast of three against the backdrop of the stunning Kibble Palace, an ornate Victorian glasshouse in Glasgow's botanical gardens, <i>Jekyll and Hyde</i> stars Stephanie McGregor as Gabriel Utterson, Adam Donaldson as Henry Jekyll, and Sam Stopford as Edward Hyde. As Utterson, McGregor guides us through the story, remaining an anchor throughout, as her investigations eventually lead to the horrifying truth about her friend Dr Jekyll. The chemistry between the three actors crackles throughout, and intense performances become increasingly physical as events lurch towards the climax. As Edward Hyde, Jekyll's debauched, deadly alter-ego, Stopford exudes a blood-dark charisma, commanding attention with a deeply menacing performance which at times glints with devilishly gleeful humour.</div><div><br /></div><div>The setting and use of space is equally captivating. Kibble Palace is a 19th-century wrought iron-framed glasshouse. It was initially used as an exhibition and concert venue, before being used for cultivating plants from the 1880s onwards. It is home to century-old tree ferns, orchids, and carnivorous plants. The audience are seated on either side of the entrance hall that leads into the glasshouse, creating an intimate, eventually unnerving experience. At various times throughout, Hyde appears to confront Jekyll at the opposite end of the space. In a particularly memorable, striking moment, the two actors deliver their lines in unison, two halves of one being, while separated by a huge frame that doubles as a doorway and a mirror, with Hyde mimicking Jekyll's movements before the two grapple with one another in a manifestation of the internal battle raging within Jekyll.</div><div><br /></div><div>Various strange things happened with the acoustics under the glass domed ceilings, with voices echoing or seeming to come from much closer. The heat in the glasshouse (usually quite a humid place) in the early evening sun enhanced the intensity of the drama, while the chirps of birds high up in the dome, and the occasional scurrying mouse, created a weird tropical-Gothic ambience. Perfect for a story about the primitive urges that scuttle beneath the flesh of mankind, not always visible, but still always lurking. The inspired use of jazz music in certain scenes, with its conflicting technical and emotional aspects occurring simultaneously, further conveyed the frantic and complex inner workings of Jekyll's mind.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Jekyll and Hyde</i> runs from Fri 14th July – Sat 29th July.</div><div><br /></div><div>For further information visit the <a href="https://www.bardinthebotanics.co.uk/productions/2023/jekyll-and-hyde" target="_blank">Bard in the Botanics website</a>. </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-8926441635178849992022-11-29T15:16:00.001+00:002022-11-29T15:16:54.277+00:00Burning Bright (2010)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAKIdFY4SILmcqourGKn-ebHrmP72mzz_JWeoKRef9_wDKkzO0CI6Vp5jvX9-RvO0rPaTtNma8PtFVlTj4jgGt3LpQ4Y6Z3GIlmrSF8CQ1wfEkYJBbuHY6ATcifyJpoW3QT69lm26VXmOPvZ6uqAP8MTNbF9OAVWeIAD5u-XaIrWgKpjAG7N1gx9SCzg/s1920/Burning%20Bright%20hiding.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAKIdFY4SILmcqourGKn-ebHrmP72mzz_JWeoKRef9_wDKkzO0CI6Vp5jvX9-RvO0rPaTtNma8PtFVlTj4jgGt3LpQ4Y6Z3GIlmrSF8CQ1wfEkYJBbuHY6ATcifyJpoW3QT69lm26VXmOPvZ6uqAP8MTNbF9OAVWeIAD5u-XaIrWgKpjAG7N1gx9SCzg/w640-h360/Burning%20Bright%20hiding.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Akin to titles such as <i>Cujo</i> (1983), <i><a href="http://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2019/11/crawl-2019.html" target="_blank">Crawl</a></i> (2019) and <i>Bait</i> (2012), <i>Burning Bright</i> is a high-concept horror about a young woman and her autistic brother who are trapped in a house with a ravenous tiger during a hurricane. After a brief set up, which establishes the fraught family dynamics (mother recently died, stepfather is struggling financially, daughter Kelly desperately wants respite from her responsibilities so she can attend college) director Carlos Brooks cuts straight to the chase. From the moment Kelly (Briana Evigan) realises there is a wild animal in the house and finds herself in a situation that threatens to eat her alive, the tension never abates.<div><br /></div><div>Using low-level camera work to suggest the POV of the stalking predator, Brooks exploits the limited space of the family home to crank up the claustrophobic suspense and offer some incredibly striking imagery. Kelly not only needs to evade the tiger herself, but also keep safe her younger brother who can’t fully comprehend the danger they are in. Sneaking from room to room to try to find a way out of the boarded-up house, she has a few close encounters, including an immensely taut sequence involving a laundry chute. While the film has a very minimal plot, the screenplay by Christine Coyle Johnson and Julie Prendiville Roux still works to flesh out the character of Kelly, which further heightens the tension. Here is a young woman who already felt trapped and helpless before her encounter with a wild beast. Evigan gives us a down-to-earth character we can relate to, whose quiet desperation for change in her life suddenly becomes a fierce determination to survive and protect her family. It gradually becomes clear, with various twists, this is not just a ‘man vs nature’ narrative, there is very dark human drama playing out. Meanwhile, outside, the chaos of life continues, the hurricane rages, reinforcing the idea of closed-in helplessness.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5huu-awJ_Tg8P9z6haTLCSJEQj89r3qYCQc4QH8sAAHVmy07xGvV7MLIMjS2eg1dJG7mB6J0OR8Au7Y9_d6brei_c02yJFjvsAv3zDAXljG41NCSW4uz9mBL6SLrrnlknIRZUV5NRy3XeVcOTjWXOlg9W1Rl7rjUbETEqPCYoa_XVVsUsP2teQL9CBw/s1920/Burning%20Bright%20tiger.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5huu-awJ_Tg8P9z6haTLCSJEQj89r3qYCQc4QH8sAAHVmy07xGvV7MLIMjS2eg1dJG7mB6J0OR8Au7Y9_d6brei_c02yJFjvsAv3zDAXljG41NCSW4uz9mBL6SLrrnlknIRZUV5NRy3XeVcOTjWXOlg9W1Rl7rjUbETEqPCYoa_XVVsUsP2teQL9CBw/w640-h360/Burning%20Bright%20tiger.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Events mirror Kelly’s own internal struggles as she wrestles with family responsibilities she inherited after her mother’s death. While she is told by her tutor and a care worker that her brother Tom (Charlie Tahan) is not her responsibility, that her stepfather Johnny (Garret Dillahunt) can take care of him, Kelly is disbelieving and doesn’t seem to trust Johnny. She now faces two situations, both of which threaten to swallow her whole (one literally, the other figuratively). She longs to escape, to leave everything behind and just try to build a life for herself. But she cannot. She knows her brother will not be safe without her. This is perfectly encapsulated in the moment when she escapes the confines of the house and out into the raging storm where she desperately tries to start her car before deciding, in the eye of the storm, to stay and fight. The failings of modern technology highlight Kelly’s helplessness as her attempts to communicate with the outside world are constantly hindered. When you feel so hopeless and helpless, reaching out and asking for help seems impossible. While something wild and unruly that cannot be reasoned with stalks the house, it is evident the real danger was already inside with them, a figure who should have provided shelter and protection, but whose greed and desperation, has literally loosed a beast upon them that threatens to tear their already fractured family unit apart. Home has become a hunting ground...</div><div><br /></div><div>With compelling performances, Evigan and Tahan ensure the human element doesn’t play second fiddle to the thrilling high concept premise, and <i>Burning Bright</i> unfolds as a frantic and gripping edge-of-the-seat home-invasion shocker.
</div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-88204295078455746342022-10-15T12:44:00.003+01:002022-10-15T12:44:58.757+01:00'The Man in the Woods' by Shirley Jackson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsKe5hcqXGy28-7zK2K8nRMmr-HE7vfWXR__aoVCUejvj_P-EHkTUQ4u_L1M6aLx59Hxj6jx9JBtZtlJXbfinfEuCEut6FDyHBgoYJLbtLL23zvWDOWHtgYJzt0nvqZfGE_2RMKxsSCo_QoUmPo83fUu58WtXawNKpY3cEgtBu0cjcNwatd8Baduttlw/s1280/man%20in%20the%20woods.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsKe5hcqXGy28-7zK2K8nRMmr-HE7vfWXR__aoVCUejvj_P-EHkTUQ4u_L1M6aLx59Hxj6jx9JBtZtlJXbfinfEuCEut6FDyHBgoYJLbtLL23zvWDOWHtgYJzt0nvqZfGE_2RMKxsSCo_QoUmPo83fUu58WtXawNKpY3cEgtBu0cjcNwatd8Baduttlw/w640-h360/man%20in%20the%20woods.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />My friend Marie Robinson has recorded a special reading of Shirley Jackson’s short story, 'The Man in the Woods'. A dark, mythic tale that takes place in the heart of a mysterious wood, this story conjures echoes of Folk Horror ritualism and is thick with classic fairy tale tropes. Sound effects are weaved subtly throughout the narrative to provide an immersive experience, so it is best listened to with headphones.<div><br /><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74h8sWamTco" target="_blank">Listen to it here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Read and recorded by Marie Robinson.</div><div>Additional voices provided by Mark Longden (Mr. Oakes) and myself (Christopher). </div><div><br /></div><div>If you would like to download a free mp3 version of this recording, you can find it <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1NuC47EZUWcxjcV90rIPIojOFwqljn8DJ/view" target="_blank">here</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, a PDF of the full source list material is available <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/150nPuEGrMvMMcmxcYl7twSpENlu_5f4E/view" target="_blank">here</a>. </div></div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-42525597119138151982022-09-02T10:07:00.001+01:002022-09-02T11:35:52.660+01:00Childer (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGGRNsp2BhAjH6guJcDgnBo7jMc14NQrORVwaQZfA-OdGv0h-osSCP7ocrNwjr5DqfFIwOWnKAScj-G3PL1R7EDUdOSe21tLfCrt7JmWornzACoHYzwwMAhkIwlSOVUIg5GIUdOzD1f9512KiBKRkX9Tf9_Xfn-bKHazVy-mKLsJ1j7KGTlxjS_yshA/s960/Childer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="960" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGGRNsp2BhAjH6guJcDgnBo7jMc14NQrORVwaQZfA-OdGv0h-osSCP7ocrNwjr5DqfFIwOWnKAScj-G3PL1R7EDUdOSe21tLfCrt7JmWornzACoHYzwwMAhkIwlSOVUIg5GIUdOzD1f9512KiBKRkX9Tf9_Xfn-bKHazVy-mKLsJ1j7KGTlxjS_yshA/w640-h426/Childer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Nominated for Best International Short at the International Women in Horror Festival and the Nightmares Film Festival, <i>Childer </i>(an Irish colloquial word for children) is written and directed by Aislínn Clarke (<i><a href="http://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2020/07/the-devils-doorway-2018.html" target="_blank">The Devil’s Doorway</a></i>, 2018). It tells of Mary (Dorothy Duffy), an introverted single mother, who suspects she and her young son are being stalked by feral children living in the woods surrounding her home. She spends her days obsessively cleaning, trying to maintain order, and preventing her son from playing with the forest-dwelling children.<div><br /></div><div>Clarke’s screenplay explores ideas concerning parenthood, obsession, loneliness, and mental illness. The spectre of Shirley Jackson drifts throughout proceedings as domestic, homey spaces become veiled in quiet menace and the seeming innocence of childhood takes on sinister qualities. The beautiful photography by Ryan Kernaghan and art direction by Claire Fox help imbue the story with an eerie fairy tale quality: the little house, neat and ordered, surrounded by forbidding woods, and the gradual encroachment of the woods - and whatever forces may reside there - into Mary’s home in the form of leaves, branches and dirt. Mary’s constant reminders to Mark (Luke Walford) to stay away from the other children feel like a foreboding harbinger. Certain images, such as the wayward vine growing out of the plughole in the bath, and the well-tended little cabbage patch at the bottom of the garden, reflect Mary’s feelings of being overwhelmed, losing control. Her anxiety is manifested in the repetitive tasks she conducts to attempt to provide herself with a sense of order. She is plagued by dark botanical dreams and intrusive unwelcome thoughts of uncleanliness: the moment she watches in frozen horror as a drop of egg yolk drips off her son’s piece of toast onto the kitchen table is filled with tension. Events culminate on Halloween night as young Mark dresses as a ghost and disobeys Mary, venturing into the dark woods to play with the other children, the identities of whom are hinted at in an exceptionally dark revelation…</div><div><br /></div><div>With striking imagery, dark humour, nods to fairy tales, folklore, the Female Gothic and folk horror, Clarke’s short film is a haunting meditation on the horrors of parenthood (and indeed childhood) and what happens when overprotectiveness and the longing for (unattainable) perfection and second chances become bloodied obsession. </div><div><br /></div><div>You can watch <i>Childer</i> <a href="https://www.causewaypictures.com/films" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-47324098442704492492022-08-26T11:54:00.001+01:002022-08-26T16:02:20.560+01:00Chained (2012)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9WFsM9Hwm73bcEk1hK_9NZTxDt__qBrWOp8e68B3TC2MB1USiMPF05sH9QkVXKD1cey4heNg9ft_GffrbuVmkR3EndpsiodrDDuDVGyxQymFavKS8vtQHuXWcffCsTk_2cdnmPT3TaHYHEQfsHOcjLtZHoHI1QlN2QofwyKI-D4oJFDdJf5d-V8qdA/s1600/Chained%20silent%20scream.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9WFsM9Hwm73bcEk1hK_9NZTxDt__qBrWOp8e68B3TC2MB1USiMPF05sH9QkVXKD1cey4heNg9ft_GffrbuVmkR3EndpsiodrDDuDVGyxQymFavKS8vtQHuXWcffCsTk_2cdnmPT3TaHYHEQfsHOcjLtZHoHI1QlN2QofwyKI-D4oJFDdJf5d-V8qdA/w640-h426/Chained%20silent%20scream.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Held captive by a serial killer since the age of 8, a teenaged boy must choose between escape or becoming his captor's unwilling protégé. Written and directed by Jennifer Lynch (based on a screenplay by Damian O'Donnell) <i>Chained</i> is an unflinching exploration of how monsters are made. As with her earlier titles <i>Boxing Helena</i> (1993) and <i>Surveillance</i> (2008), Lynch invites us to explore the darkest corners of human psychology, and the violent depravities people inflict upon one another. Shot in two weeks on a very low budget, <i>Chained</i> at times resembles a stage play, with its singular location and story driven by two characters. After a queasily suspenseful opening in which a woman (Julia Ormond) and her young son are abducted in broad daylight, the story, like its young protagonist Rabbit, becomes bound to the grim interior of the killer’s house, with its boarded-up windows, yellowing wallpaper, and harsh lighting. Lynch conjures a moody, ‘homey nausea’* which speaks to the rotten, decaying heart of this home, and an almost unbearable sense of claustrophobia. Her explorations of the ‘limitations of being held’ (which were also explored in <i>Boxing Helena</i> and <i>Surveillance</i>) extend beyond the characters and into the actual production design. Her use of space to explore ideas about confinement and suffocation is particularly striking, with the juxtaposition of the yellowing, shadowy interior of the house against the starkly bright, remote and desolate landscape upon which it is situated.<div><br /></div><div>As a study of what could cause someone to become a serial killer, <i>Chained</i> is frequently uncomfortable viewing. Lynch’s screenplay and Vincent D'Onofrio’s performance as Bob build a complex character which reveals more of itself as events unfold. Lynch’s approach is to study how monsters are made and why they might do the dreadful things they do. Bob is humanised but his actions never excused or justified, and Lynch paints a vivid picture of the effects of cyclical violence and the perpetuation of horror, pain, and abuse. The violence is never stylised, it is raw, haphazard, and at times even clumsy as the hefty Bob struggles with his victims while a terrified Rabbit looks on. Eventually this grim scenario takes on a weirdly monotonous tone - Bob leaves to abduct and bring home women, upon his return they struggle, he eventually drags them into his room while Rabbit observes in silent horror. This tone effectively highlights the idea of the desensitisation of violence, and the dehumanising effects of this upon Rabbit (portrayed as a young boy by Evan Bird, and by Eamon Farren as a teenager).</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KPWcDRRN15mFHaZd0djxByaXEjlbfs8BE-Aix2sGdXxyPYn0MlyGNE2LCh_Yoc9rs8zjfR8VP1SgrPN1o2ppcKQOqXBg87qAs-MsDAr51MBujIrgTp5n68ipuR6p_5djGGSBv1ftTqgRvciikH3_0rO9mpnscyG0A1Tv0aX3oBJMdtIh-uEB9jj2AA/s1200/Chained%20abduction.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KPWcDRRN15mFHaZd0djxByaXEjlbfs8BE-Aix2sGdXxyPYn0MlyGNE2LCh_Yoc9rs8zjfR8VP1SgrPN1o2ppcKQOqXBg87qAs-MsDAr51MBujIrgTp5n68ipuR6p_5djGGSBv1ftTqgRvciikH3_0rO9mpnscyG0A1Tv0aX3oBJMdtIh-uEB9jj2AA/w640-h360/Chained%20abduction.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />At the heart of the story is an abusive relationship. Over the years a pseudo father-son bond emerges from Bob and Rabbit’s ‘role playing’ as it becomes clear Bob wants Rabbit to inherit this bloody legacy. Weird domestic scenarios play out as Rabbit prepares food and awaits Bob’s return each night, while Bob sets out precisely folded clothes for Rabbit to wear each day. Ideas regarding Stockholm syndrome, learned behaviour, child abuse, nature vs nurture, morality, and free will all bleed together as Lynch examines the effects of violence and abuse, and what happens when the roles of victim and monster become blurred. While the ending feels very rushed and tonally jarring – it is intensely melodramatic and oddly unnatural (<a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20121027225931/http://www.fearnet.com/news/interview/exclusive-we-get-chained-director-jennifer-lynch" target="_blank">Lynch was contractually obliged</a> to submit a final cut under a specific running time) - <i>Chained</i> is still an incredibly bleak and stifling viewing experience. Lynch’s writing, direction, and fascination with the psychological complexities of the characters elevate it to a disturbing and grimly compelling work.</div><div><br /></div><div>*PremiereScene (2012), <i>Chained UK Premiere - Jennifer Chambers Lynch Interview</i> [Online video], Available at: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gON1Pg5qQGw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gON1Pg5qQGw</a> </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-535474209298272072022-08-19T10:50:00.000+01:002022-08-19T10:50:18.432+01:00Master (2022)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5zHRrfMBFouZo5KvzKbMqnI-hzF-y0ix2JJNcwHjJBHochjBvcPSHX_gOCw7In2H9qjzLft-NhYhYO6OZIpGyFoXSniTVnEVfZy7t2bz6PiNVPnmSdzCKtwzGfsoOQYURMHB7CzzlVxI7Vs3HEs_-IgbWY6DQTOXWlqSurccEAVT_PxQ8B3a58I8uQ/s2560/Master%20Gail.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5zHRrfMBFouZo5KvzKbMqnI-hzF-y0ix2JJNcwHjJBHochjBvcPSHX_gOCw7In2H9qjzLft-NhYhYO6OZIpGyFoXSniTVnEVfZy7t2bz6PiNVPnmSdzCKtwzGfsoOQYURMHB7CzzlVxI7Vs3HEs_-IgbWY6DQTOXWlqSurccEAVT_PxQ8B3a58I8uQ/w640-h360/Master%20Gail.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Written and directed by Mariama Diallo, and <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2022/jan/22/master-review-racism-haunts-new-england-university-uneven-horror" target="_blank">inspired by her own experiences</a> as a student at Yale, <i>Master</i> tells of two Black women struggling to navigate life at a predominately white university ‘as old as the country.’ Their experiences of casual racism, micro-aggression, and tokenism, play out against a backdrop of whispers of an ancient vengeful witch who haunts the campus…<div><br /></div><div>With its combination of shivery supernatural horror and real-life horror, <i>Master</i> is a powerful, unsettling and at times distressing watch. Gail (Regina Hall) and Jasmine (Zoe Renee) not only encounter suggestive supernatural menace lurking in the dark corners of the vast, spooky university buildings, but every-day menace in the form of racist adversity from colleagues and fellow students. Gail has been appointed the first black 'Master' (while it has uncomfortable connotations of slavery, it's an esteemed faculty position overseeing halls of residence) of the university. Tellingly, when she arrives at her new accommodation, the key doesn’t fit the lock and she struggles to gain entry. She wants to make a difference and promote diversity and inclusivity. When we see such promotional events around campus, predominantly attended by white students, it seems to suggest these initiatives are only a form of virtue signalling, real change can only come when fundamental changes occur from within such institutions themselves. Gail’s journey throughout the film sees her gradually realise that she alone cannot change things.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jasmine, a freshman at the university, is also struggling to settle in. A promising student, she finds herself ostracised by her peers, whose words and actions always seem to hold a nasty, malicious intent. From calling her ‘Beyoncé’ and telling her to clean up a drink she didn’t spill, to screaming the lyrics of a rap song containing the N-word at her in a heavily stylised and stressful party scene, the microaggressions aimed at Jasmine are relentless and eventually take their toll. Little moments and exchanges between Jasmine and other students and staff are peppered with remarks and comments that seem barbed – from the librarian who asks to search her bag, to the cafeteria server whose whole demeanour changes when she sees Jasmine, the effects are quietly distressing. Elsewhere, Diallo’s screenplay explores ideas regarding critical race theory and identity politics, most interestingly with the character of Liv (Amber Gray), and the façade and hypocrisy of diversity efforts versus actual merit.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXt0AkUpGn7CRbC6KqkxGn9PsTzuWExPFDQ8tBCL1NU4TXsXVpYFC0CadoohqmRfiWDK8jc_iKdbwnZeYg8h0dJfxNYBPVA6JsHbYRMDU3gr-UD_JYRMhbELd0xaCnAJISkJhLZM8WeftSOlo3Y4TUMWtCEhf1j9zTfUXOoDPiBQgPpOfKJpi6_fLG8A/s2560/Master%20Jasmine%20in%20the%20Library.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="2560" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXt0AkUpGn7CRbC6KqkxGn9PsTzuWExPFDQ8tBCL1NU4TXsXVpYFC0CadoohqmRfiWDK8jc_iKdbwnZeYg8h0dJfxNYBPVA6JsHbYRMDU3gr-UD_JYRMhbELd0xaCnAJISkJhLZM8WeftSOlo3Y4TUMWtCEhf1j9zTfUXOoDPiBQgPpOfKJpi6_fLG8A/w640-h426/Master%20Jasmine%20in%20the%20Library.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />The horror elements are handled with subtlety and are constantly simmering in the background, threateningly. Slow tracking shots along dark, empty hallways throughout the college buildings and occasional glimpses of a dark, hooded figure stalking stealthily around the campus evoke a quiet sense of menace. An especially creepy moment comes when Jasmine is alone writing an email to her mother and the lights go off in the dorm. As emergency lights flash intermittently along the corridor and she becomes increasingly panicked, we catch a glimpse of a hooded figure lurking in the shadows just behind her. What adds to the power of this scene is the realisation that Jasmine was lying to her mother, telling her that she’s currently enjoying the holiday with her fellow students: she is actually alone on campus as everyone else has gone home, or deliberately excluded her from festive events.</div><div><br /></div><div>The spectre of the institution’s unresolved past, steeped in racism, continues to impact its present and looms large over proceedings. Gail discovers an infestation of pests in her home, a literal representation of the rotten core of the university and all the old attitudes and bigotries which have clung to it for centuries. Gail finds reminders of this past around her home while being tormented by the eerily ringing servants’ bells in the attic room, as if the ghosts of the past refuse to accept her status as Master. Jasmine becomes obsessed with finding out more about the witch, a woman called Margaret Millet who was burned alive on the site where the campus now stands. When reading up on Margaret in the college library, she learns that the first black student to attend Ancaster had also lived in Jasmine’s room and killed herself by hanging.</div><div><br /></div><div>With its timely exploration of a university campus haunted by the spectre of racism, <i>Master</i> is a thought-provoking chiller with a lot on its mind. While the more supernatural elements are deliberately ambiguous, Diallo never shies away from exposing the real-life horrors of racism in contemporary American society. </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-54208455806839799502022-08-12T10:34:00.000+01:002022-08-12T10:34:11.856+01:00Amulet (2020)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GwBdnBk-_jgTnp39ahs1g38C5ZJXLoxkty-06mvqNVJiUeoAPRESmL9I18BZMuI7sfRx4NpM9Gg37GQDhg59b90C2HPjmah_icNSLobX0C0g6oWf0ClkcULzJhzHgtaaf5id5dT40mztm25DXVNTBd1-87WoOKohy6AfoHN1rvEd09Je61bYWd0WjQ/s1800/Amulet%20stairs.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GwBdnBk-_jgTnp39ahs1g38C5ZJXLoxkty-06mvqNVJiUeoAPRESmL9I18BZMuI7sfRx4NpM9Gg37GQDhg59b90C2HPjmah_icNSLobX0C0g6oWf0ClkcULzJhzHgtaaf5id5dT40mztm25DXVNTBd1-87WoOKohy6AfoHN1rvEd09Je61bYWd0WjQ/w640-h426/Amulet%20stairs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Written and directed by Romola Garai, <i>Amulet</i> tells of a troubled, displaced ex-soldier who is offered a place to stay at a decrepit old house in London, inhabited only by a young woman and her dying mother (who resides in the attic, no less). Before long, he begins to suspect something sinister is afoot...<div><br /></div><div>Flirting with various tropes from demonic possession and haunted house films (warnings to stay out of the attic, things heard moving in the walls, horrifying discoveries in the decaying plumbing), Garai masterfully sets the scene and creates a portentous, gloomy atmosphere before eventually lifting the curtain to reveal a truly original and terrifying fable of feminist revenge. With its exploration of forbidden spaces, depictions of the monstrous in its myriad forms and reflections on trauma, abuse and gender, <i>Amulet</i> is a highly unsettling and atmospheric work that wields a strange, undeniable power. Throughout, Garai maintains an insidiously creepy approach, her deliberate direction and pacing conjuring a slow-burning sense of dread. When we are first introduced to Tomaz (Alec Secareanu), he is a temporary worker sleeping rough in London. He appears traumatised, vulnerable and without power or agency. After a fire at the building where he has been living, kindly nun Sister Claire (Imelda Staunton) invites him to stay with Magda (Carla Juri). The sight of Tomaz being escorted into the dilapidated, foreboding house by a nun is deliciously macabre and sets up an uneasy intrigue that lingers throughout the rest of the film. The interior of the house provides no respite from the air of doom which hangs over proceedings: creaking floorboards, mould, mildew, and, bizarrely, seashell motifs everywhere (seashells have an ancient association with femininity, birth, resurrection, and fertility).</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr0LVWL0bOP3DZhDKe52_dvJCrD3O_h1PWXVh_CPAP5gS2LrynljSh5FIJWJ4DzZfL7tIeRV3Dbt0QdsZWJvVXrqo5Cm9ZLJzaWmevtdN2EJnnTUi_QPX51Q7b4BJqb6xotP1wDgXSKEirBle8Pac65GnQJM4uxCyqCaDOborM0265Z2HHuvBROM9iFA/s1150/Amulet%20amulet.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1150" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr0LVWL0bOP3DZhDKe52_dvJCrD3O_h1PWXVh_CPAP5gS2LrynljSh5FIJWJ4DzZfL7tIeRV3Dbt0QdsZWJvVXrqo5Cm9ZLJzaWmevtdN2EJnnTUi_QPX51Q7b4BJqb6xotP1wDgXSKEirBle8Pac65GnQJM4uxCyqCaDOborM0265Z2HHuvBROM9iFA/w640-h334/Amulet%20amulet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />As Tomaz and Magda gradually fall for one another, and she tends to her mother in the attic while he investigates the strange noises in the walls, flashbacks depict him in his former country, stationed at an isolated checkpoint on the road through a forest, where he unearths a mysterious amulet. Shortly after, a chance encounter between Tomaz and a woman, Mirian (Angeliki Papoulia), who is trying to secretly cross the border, is used by Garai to toy with conventional ideas of perception and power. This filters through to the dynamics between Tomaz and Magda and the way we, as an audience, perceive them through a lens of gendered bias: he, the troubled hero, she, the helpless damsel. The twisting story reveals more as it slowly unfurls, eventually turning these initial perceptions on their head.
In the third act - in a moment that conjures what can only be described as spectacular uterine imagery - Garai coaxes the narrative into overtly supernatural, fantastical territory, which eventually culminates in a shocking, full-blown blend of gory body-horror, blood-spattered violence, and phantasmagorical allegory. It is a spellbinding moment enhanced by otherworldly lighting and an ethereally pulsating score.</div><div><br /></div><div>With an unshakable air of dread, slow-burning tension, striking imagery and powerful feminist subtext, <i>Amulet</i> is an immensely unsettling debut that marks Garai as a director with assured, remarkable vision. </div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-9304129752757036192022-08-05T10:06:00.001+01:002022-08-19T14:57:15.378+01:00You Are Not My Mother (2021)
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD6cCWLrGiSwfKgtgjbZHVd7b1mIFhfIZSCqidbRCh4fhzmN9KadPiqPJaAMafNVh6kkIOQfp6OhGRbQ64dgH6dQ-veLMAHg-_gBRNOm-5Eo_Xcp_OGPKmNVlBYwXCjTgWONUdnw7XBicNAILXktJ5Re6UzNpPDXD_GOoQXmf2gHBBAiBPOpcW7LaKwg/s1023/You%20Are%20Not%20My%20Mother%20embrace.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="1023" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD6cCWLrGiSwfKgtgjbZHVd7b1mIFhfIZSCqidbRCh4fhzmN9KadPiqPJaAMafNVh6kkIOQfp6OhGRbQ64dgH6dQ-veLMAHg-_gBRNOm-5Eo_Xcp_OGPKmNVlBYwXCjTgWONUdnw7XBicNAILXktJ5Re6UzNpPDXD_GOoQXmf2gHBBAiBPOpcW7LaKwg/w640-h458/You%20Are%20Not%20My%20Mother%20embrace.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />When her missing mother reappears, teenaged Char begins to suspect she is an otherworldly imposter. Written and directed by Irish filmmaker Kate Dolan, <i>You Are Not My Mother</i> taps into some truly primal fears – parental abandonment, being harmed by those meant to protect us, and being ostracised from our community. The carefully nuanced screenplay ensures an enthralling ambiguity throughout. Char’s mother has a history of depression and mental health issues – are the changes she exhibits due to her ill health? Her medication? Or something more <i>unnatural</i>? Dolan’s writing and direction are bolstered by incredibly strong, compelling performances, particularly from Hazel Doupe as Char and Carolyn Bracken as her mother Angela. Char is a subdued, quiet girl with no friends. Doupe’s ability to convey so much internalised emotion, worry and pain is especially captivating. Bracken also delivers a memorably striking performance, the physical aspects of which create a sense of unease and eventual terror as she contorts herself and creeps about the house at night in increasingly unnatural ways. The powerful and moving performances ground the fantastical aspects of the story in a very relatable, mundane reality, which adds to the film’s uncanny power.<div><br /></div><div>Throughout is a bewitching juxtaposition of the ancient and the occult with the contemporary (the council estate setting, edged by woodland) which speaks of the encroachment of the primitive, ancient and arcane upon modern, civilised society. Old Irish traditions about Samhein and belief about the thinning of the veil between this world and the Other World (inhabited by the dead, and malevolent faerie changelings) are still whispered about in certain parts of the island and are subtly exploited by Dolan to chilling effect. Char’s bully-turned-confidante Suzanne (Jordanne Jones) and Granny Rita (Ingrid Craigie) both reveal a strong belief in the supernatural: Rita insists Angela is a faerie changeling who wants to abduct Char, while Suzanne has a chilling experience which she claims was her mother’s ghost trying to warn her of impending danger. The extremely disturbing opening scene sets the tone and atmosphere for the film, and Dolan has an eye for haunting, creepy imagery – the shrouded figure upon the bed, an embrace between two characters that is as horrifying as it is weirdly tragic, a murmuration of birds over the estate like a portent of doom. The deeply unsettling score by <a href="https://soundcloud.com/die-hexen" target="_blank">Die Hexen</a> (composer, visual artist, and filmmaker Dianne Lucille Campbell) becomes downright alarming in places and helps to seep proceedings in an unshakable sense of dread and quiet menace.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNoOnN2rdFZsXz93vOiHlyVMmwp0Bk1KtP93faEAm4qQYyF-pp6sJTE9OyLLaUGq9Y3nUAJeHGFaA1rv4ATulII4RzNW2OYd6IaCxvEpEhuO1WmUibcVim83FxfETiiUk9BFQ2LAHRmLStINPzAE-HaUgM-6BdawiI6j7-zPBEYweTsYskzIosG9bYA/s780/You%20Are%20Not%20My%20Mother%20dinner.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="438" data-original-width="780" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNoOnN2rdFZsXz93vOiHlyVMmwp0Bk1KtP93faEAm4qQYyF-pp6sJTE9OyLLaUGq9Y3nUAJeHGFaA1rv4ATulII4RzNW2OYd6IaCxvEpEhuO1WmUibcVim83FxfETiiUk9BFQ2LAHRmLStINPzAE-HaUgM-6BdawiI6j7-zPBEYweTsYskzIosG9bYA/w640-h360/You%20Are%20Not%20My%20Mother%20dinner.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Dolan’s screenplay is attuned to the plight of the characters, and as such they feel very real. Char not only has to contend with being a lonely teenager, a troubled family life, and secrets kept from her by her Granny Rita, but eventually the unimaginable. There is a sense of shared trauma between the three generations of women, a sense of shared shame, secrets, and stigma because of the family history – they are social pariahs as many people on the estate are aware of their troubled past. Dolan taps into the horror of what a young adult experiences watching their parent undergo a transformation of sorts, and struggle with severe health issues.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>You Are Not My Mother</i> is a powerful, moving and terrifying domestic horror about an ordinary family trying their best to deal with a terrifying situation. Dolan never shies from tackling difficult social issues (familial abuse, mental illness) through the lens of horror cinema, with a perfectly crafted ambiguity that ensures a haunting quality not easily shaken off even after the lights come back on.
</div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-75595289828393827902022-07-30T09:38:00.007+01:002022-07-30T09:38:53.624+01:00Labyrinth (1986)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjUysgQyqy3H4lQ9Hz50xE9qG1pNbfBw0W-p_-VeAcKN4s5tYljs6fgJ0CSnvZ7R3WptBXE8b79krJ6azFDmhE5_N5MVqfhfA-9xdqFevLxof44tgcLGOAwefcMjxyygnsJR4a935Ombe8054KIZHCVSSWLdt4Oppsl1Ln9dypcOjGNNLjxED4fcoMRQ/s1279/Labyrinth%20helping%20hands.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="546" data-original-width="1279" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjUysgQyqy3H4lQ9Hz50xE9qG1pNbfBw0W-p_-VeAcKN4s5tYljs6fgJ0CSnvZ7R3WptBXE8b79krJ6azFDmhE5_N5MVqfhfA-9xdqFevLxof44tgcLGOAwefcMjxyygnsJR4a935Ombe8054KIZHCVSSWLdt4Oppsl1Ln9dypcOjGNNLjxED4fcoMRQ/w640-h274/Labyrinth%20helping%20hands.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Written by Monty Python’s Terry Jones and directed by Jim Henson, <i>Labyrinth</i> tells of fairy tale-obsessed Sarah (Jennifer Connelly), a young woman who must venture through the ‘dangers untold and hardships unnumbered’ of a nightmarish other-realm to rescue her baby stepbrother from Jareth (David Bowie), a cruel Goblin King. Along the way she befriends an array of misunderstood, misfit creatures who inhabit the labyrinth, and overcome attempts to thwart her journey by Jareth’s many meddling minions.<div><br /></div><div>The eighties produced a plethora of spectacular and oddly edgy fantasy films which, while aimed at younger audiences, possessed certain adult sensibilities and a curious darkness which would feed into their later cult status. Titles such as <i>The Dark Crystal</i> (1982), <i>The Never-Ending Story</i> (1984), <i>Dragonslayer</i> (1981), <i>The Princess Bride</i> (1987), <i>Return to Oz</i> (1985), <i>Willow</i> (1988) and <i>Legend</i> (1985), invited audiences to join valiant underdog protagonists on perilous quests to defeat evil adversaries. Like <i>Labyrinth</i>, these titles dazzled viewers, young and old, with their ground-breaking special effects and puppetry. After working on <i>The Dark Crystal</i>, which featured a cast comprised exclusively of puppets, Jim Henson wanted to produce another fantasy film in which real actors would interact with his trademark puppets. The idea for <i>Labyrinth</i> began to materialise when he conceived the image of a human baby surrounded by goblins. As well as old European fairy tales about goblins stealing babies, Henson cited Maurice Sendak’s children’s books <i>Outside Over There</i> (1981) and <i>Where the Wild Things Are</i> (1963) as major influences. <i>Outside Over There</i> is the story of a girl who sets off on a dangerous quest to rescue her baby sister, who has been kidnapped by wicked goblins. Sendak’s story in turn echoes Christina Rossetti's <i>Goblin Market</i> (1862), a richly textured narrative poem, which also tells of a young girl's abduction by goblins and the courageous efforts of her sister to save her. Other literary influences include the work of the Brothers Grimm, Lewis Carroll's <i>Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</i> (1865) and L. Frank Baum’s <i>The Wonderful Wizard of Oz </i>(1900).</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQYRZfau7sMzJgAH9ohN4TC7-LPGtboH6LZBZd0M81-57PGfu65_u-mgFrkaJV4QaDYHw7KC1Um7wTfN2ZCn4Y8JH1HVkrpMaCyhL1sz29ClA_XWjHy4V1X7E4S1p4DA2L9C8SMteueYsD5LB3p2soTd7GOhcTNxTKz3oGPV34pkNbYO6kH163Vdvlg/s1100/labyrinth%20sarah%20in%20forest.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="1100" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQYRZfau7sMzJgAH9ohN4TC7-LPGtboH6LZBZd0M81-57PGfu65_u-mgFrkaJV4QaDYHw7KC1Um7wTfN2ZCn4Y8JH1HVkrpMaCyhL1sz29ClA_XWjHy4V1X7E4S1p4DA2L9C8SMteueYsD5LB3p2soTd7GOhcTNxTKz3oGPV34pkNbYO6kH163Vdvlg/w640-h360/labyrinth%20sarah%20in%20forest.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />In the film’s production notes, Henson described <i>Labyrinth</i> as the story of a person at the point of changing from a child to an adult and noted that, for him, ‘times of transition are always magic. Twilight is a magic time and dawn is magic - the times during which it’s not day and it’s not night, but something in between. That is what the film is about.’ When Sarah strays completely off the path and into the depths of the labyrinth, her experiences there, and the choices she makes, are reflective of her transition from childhood to adulthood. With a teenaged girl as its questing central hero, <i>Labyrinth</i> belongs to a group of female-centric coming-of-age films, which unravel as dark parables in which adolescent girls on the threshold of adulthood find themselves in menacing, perhaps even psychological landscapes, pursued by monsters literal and figurative. <i><a href="http://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2022/02/the-company-of-wolves-1984.html">The Company of Wolves</a> </i>(1984), <i>Valerie & Her Week of Wonders</i> (1970), <a href="http://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2017/01/lemora-childs-tale-of-supernatural.html" target="_blank"><i>Lemora – A Child’s Tale of the Supernatural</i> </a>(1973), <i><a href="http://watchinghorrorfilmsfrombehindthecouch.blogspot.com/2022/01/return-to-oz-1985.html" target="_blank">Return to Oz</a></i> (1985), <i>Paperhouse</i> (1988) and <i>Pan’s Labyrinth </i>(2006) are other such titles. Their narratives all unfold within the dreams and fantasies of young women who must use their resourcefulness and wit to overcome dangers untold and emerge into adulthood, victorious and transformed. While the young protagonists of these films escape real-life hardships and tensions in worlds of their own creation, none waits passively to be saved; they are all active, defiant and fight to attain the kind of agency and autonomy denied them in their waking worlds. The initiations they undergo echo those of ancient folk and fairy tales in which the girl must outsmart the monster to obtain wisdom, experience and self-awareness.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-SbFyDJ0E6d9mcXov0wNs3ELIZVlmQAsdLs5h5eI3C7onSEkenTrayAB6FviTwPmbAWdZRUIG14T_wiH6822T44B0mXUC4dwcQE0urH1E_vkcybjFDvJfppKDeJr-DmEX4jiZntA1e1kcVbwMl7bbUtzgRIkCJ4J4KB8_vEc1P_cPjIvPv97gRB1Yg/s1100/labyrinth%20Sarah%20with%20broom.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="1100" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-SbFyDJ0E6d9mcXov0wNs3ELIZVlmQAsdLs5h5eI3C7onSEkenTrayAB6FviTwPmbAWdZRUIG14T_wiH6822T44B0mXUC4dwcQE0urH1E_vkcybjFDvJfppKDeJr-DmEX4jiZntA1e1kcVbwMl7bbUtzgRIkCJ4J4KB8_vEc1P_cPjIvPv97gRB1Yg/w640-h360/labyrinth%20Sarah%20with%20broom.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />As Sarah traverses the labyrinth, which is subtly - and at times not so subtly - informed and populated by objects and preoccupations from her waking world, her odyssey can be interpreted as her internal struggle to accept her burgeoning adulthood and address her feelings of helplessness and abandonment. At the beginning of the film Sarah sulks in her room because she must babysit her infant stepbrother, and she decries the unfairness and injustice she believes her father and ‘wicked’ stepmother subject her to daily. She is surrounded by toys and dolls she has outgrown but still clings to for comfort as she refuses to grow up and accept her responsibilities. Photographs of her absent biological mother are glimpsed on her dresser mirror and in various scrapbooks, along with newspaper clippings and headlines about her scandalous affair with a famous actor. We see her mother pictured with the actor (Bowie again) she evidently abandoned her family for. According to author John Kenneth Muir ‘The fantasy narrative of <i>Labyrinth</i>, in which Sarah must choose whether or not to abandon her baby brother […] deliberately mirrors the choice her mother has made […] in which abandoning a child is okay... at least if fantasy and romance are involved.’ The narrative of <i>Labyrinth</i> essentially depicts Sarah’s cathartic attempts to address her anger and feelings of abandonment towards her mother and her mother’s lover for his part in breaking up her family. Sarah casts the man who stole away her mother as a monster to be confronted. When she finally defeats Jareth in the labyrinth, rejects his amorous advances and rescues her stepbrother, she actively purges herself of the feelings of resentment she was embittered by.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWousOAVy1nBfX_SmDyX-J-FVnZbEURYF0-OaNOBTBeuSckBhdKoqHTsBuSZNpaJ_XnXB3VSxd1MWsBDxN-zB-pn7GOka_KamQHoW0Q3UYsEDJZ0Prpf1IkBLvfX8pMJloh9J1_xnhaKI-vB6KlJZYNO0dMpUR_o2lDLxSuU4Zpc9LmbY8fq0z4A3HA/s1100/labyrinth%20Jareth.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="1100" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWousOAVy1nBfX_SmDyX-J-FVnZbEURYF0-OaNOBTBeuSckBhdKoqHTsBuSZNpaJ_XnXB3VSxd1MWsBDxN-zB-pn7GOka_KamQHoW0Q3UYsEDJZ0Prpf1IkBLvfX8pMJloh9J1_xnhaKI-vB6KlJZYNO0dMpUR_o2lDLxSuU4Zpc9LmbY8fq0z4A3HA/w640-h360/labyrinth%20Jareth.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Michael Jackson and Sting were amongst those Henson had initially envisioned as Sarah’s nemesis Jareth, but he eventually decided David Bowie, with his strange sex appeal and penchant for creating eccentric, memorable characters, would make a more fitting Goblin King. Bowie was seduced by Henson’s <i>The Dark Crystal</i>, particularly fantasy illustrator Brian Froud’s creature designs, and had wanted to embark on a project to write songs and music for children. He liked the screenplay, describing it as ‘amusing without being vicious or spiteful or bloody, and with more heart than many other special-effects movies.’ Much like the werewolves in <i>The Company of Wolves</i>, Darkness in <i>Legend</i> and <i>The Dark Crystal’s</i> shuffling Skeksis, Bowie’s Jareth has the ability to elicit sympathy as well as fear. The character was described by film critic Bruce Bailey as ‘a creature who’s the object of both loathing and secret desire’, and Bowie himself described Jareth as a true romantic but also ‘a spoilt child, vain and temperamental - kind of like a rock star’. Seemingly inspired by the myriad ‘héros maléfique’ (malignant heroes) brought to life on screen by Sir Christopher Lee throughout his career, Bowie humanises Jareth with a performance that brings the character's more tortured elements to the fore, imbuing him with ‘the loneliness of evil’ Lee often spoke of.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Labyrinth</i> features a dramatic instrumental score by Trevor Jones and songs written and performed by David Bowie, which perfectly capture the film’s magic, fantasy, forbidden romance and danger, and most of all, its sense of fun and adventure. As Sarah wanders deeper into the labyrinth and faces difficult decisions at every turn, Jareth frequently manifests to undermine her choices, make her doubt herself, weaken her will and tempt her into joining him. His inner processes are given life through Bowie’s songs, which are typical of the musician’s more pop-orientated music of the 80s, range from the playfully infectious ‘Magic Dance’ to the bewitching ballad ‘As the World Falls Down’, which reveals Jareth’s romantic and tragic nature as he attempts to seduce Sarah at a sinister masquerade ball.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8gvW79y5KfZANZJ7EueL6xfVeQt0zbW4HjiD_P3dCHaeE5Ms4MBWF4Yz6vwCLgMDZK7F5PELLg9bFzHvS3C0jNSRp3OWr3DDylCcv6x2ksG2PPcU2V5QMO_r7awSrDNB3059A4OlVdznv0UYDr8NSQcItqQ5bepIxsA_3FJzCGXhYTnHl29eI4WrgvA/s1024/Labyrinth%20friends.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8gvW79y5KfZANZJ7EueL6xfVeQt0zbW4HjiD_P3dCHaeE5Ms4MBWF4Yz6vwCLgMDZK7F5PELLg9bFzHvS3C0jNSRp3OWr3DDylCcv6x2ksG2PPcU2V5QMO_r7awSrDNB3059A4OlVdznv0UYDr8NSQcItqQ5bepIxsA_3FJzCGXhYTnHl29eI4WrgvA/w640-h320/Labyrinth%20friends.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />I grew up watching <i>Labyrinth</i> - I was 6 when it was released, and around 7 or 8 when my parents gave me a copy on VHS. It not only instigated a life-long love of David Bowie and his music, but also informed my love of fantasy films populated by daring heroines, otherworldly beasts and antagonists who exude the power of the seductive, frequently tragic charm of evil. For those of us who may have felt a little like outsiders growing up, films like <i>Labyrinth</i> – with its message of friendship, trust, resilience, self-belief and the importance of seeing the good in people - assured us that we could find friendship and acceptance. Indeed, it’s not only a film about the importance of friendship and self-discovery, but a reassurance that just because adulthood beckons (or has already come to pass), there’s no need to completely abandon things we once cherished, and by escaping into books or films or comics while still keeping perspective, we can nourish our imagination and still feel a sense of wonderment as we navigate the tribulations of adulthood. While some beloved childhood films can lose their magic as we grow older, or our perception of them is increasingly clouded by rose-tinted nostalgia, with its bawdy humour, ageless themes of good overcoming evil, fabulous soundtrack, colourful cast of loveable monsters and its heroine’s cathartic journey, watching <i>Labyrinth </i>will always be a magical experience, regardless of one’s age.
</div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-88316293768556319352022-06-28T23:19:00.005+01:002022-08-03T10:21:29.175+01:00Lurking on the Bookshelves: The Diving Pool by Yōko Ogawa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFaUPSXTgMNo4SKy9UGFfkuErnCltvQQqAgpvNZh8hFlyN_WP5R7OQhDBtVrzkEyk4Q5b05sgxaG_nmZcwNPvgzYykIRz7LyyrE1JqC_FhdXJWj74o86lc94bWWc2nYTWvasAzAi4IxXw1JrWDI3HAhbUvB01pnCnfDm99PTKCvaYOCA8jW6s4E_5DzA/s4160/Diving%20Pool%20cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFaUPSXTgMNo4SKy9UGFfkuErnCltvQQqAgpvNZh8hFlyN_WP5R7OQhDBtVrzkEyk4Q5b05sgxaG_nmZcwNPvgzYykIRz7LyyrE1JqC_FhdXJWj74o86lc94bWWc2nYTWvasAzAi4IxXw1JrWDI3HAhbUvB01pnCnfDm99PTKCvaYOCA8jW6s4E_5DzA/w640-h480/Diving%20Pool%20cover.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />This collection of three novellas by Japanese author Yōko Ogawa is a deeply unsettling and atmospheric work. As subtle as it is quietly powerful, Ogawa’s brand of psychological horror explores the ‘horrific femininities’ of daily life, conjured by a gentle, sparse prose frequently serrated by striking, disturbing imagery. 'The Diving Pool' tells of a lonely teenage girl who falls in love with her foster-brother as she watches him leap from a high diving board into a pool - sparking an unspoken infatuation that draws out darker tendencies. 'Pregnancy Diary' follows a young woman who records the daily moods of her pregnant sister in a diary, but rather than a story of growth the diary reveals a more sinister tale of greed and repulsion. The final story, 'Dormitory', involves a woman who visits her old college dormitory on the outskirts of Tokyo, where she finds an isolated world shadowed by decay, haunted by absent students and the figure of a lonely caretaker.<div><br /></div><div>Ogawa’s narrators are young, alienated women, who feel trapped by the ideals of conventional society. Echoes of Shirley Jackson resonate throughout as each character finds herself hopelessly imprisoned by society’s expectations; the domestic settings a veritable cage, personal desires never attained. While loneliness and alienation are constant themes, Ogawa stops short of revealing the inner workings of her characters. This leaves a troubling sense of inconclusion which lingers throughout. Their motivations are elided. There’s a sense of quiet and eerie peacefulness in each of the tales, which serves to heighten tension and completely disarm the reader.</div><div><br /></div><div>Throughout, Ogawa conjures vivid, quietly powerful imagery – the snow-covered hallway (The Diving Pool), the grapefruits strewn about a stark kitchen (Pregnancy Diary), and the swarms of bees buzzing throughout a shadowy building (Dormitory). Imagery of food, especially sweet foods like cakes, desserts, and jams, reoccurs, as do acts of eating and feeding, the connotations of which – caring, comfort, sustenance - eventually turn sinister (the spoiled treat fed to the little girl in The Diving Pool, the jams made from grapefruits riddled with pesticides (Pregnancy Diary) and the cakes shared by the narrator and the caretaker in the final story. The implications of various actions are shocking and not easily forgotten, nor are the snatches of cruelty and undercurrent of tragedy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Recommended for those who like their horror subtle and whispery.</div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8519287446656108921.post-84182312372875842402022-05-13T14:14:00.003+01:002022-06-21T20:18:18.713+01:00Lurking on the Bookshelves: The Dangers of Smoking in Bed & Things We Lost in the Fire <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVzsHihHRSCwjS4sf4sPsYHVb8V3TPXP_dx8bWB8cFsMdz3cyW2lNtkbLwWQqWDLKWp1qEp3IMYrG_V4Jnr7f6PdrPhvq1G29HTwUB4ck0MiCxYPowOmdGwVwj6zSLIr_3OF7RrShW8Pb9UWmGiKStkhHlt1JsTL1fU9cBsYuwyxUJN3hz7NrZTtejA/s4160/IMG_20220510_180026.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVzsHihHRSCwjS4sf4sPsYHVb8V3TPXP_dx8bWB8cFsMdz3cyW2lNtkbLwWQqWDLKWp1qEp3IMYrG_V4Jnr7f6PdrPhvq1G29HTwUB4ck0MiCxYPowOmdGwVwj6zSLIr_3OF7RrShW8Pb9UWmGiKStkhHlt1JsTL1fU9cBsYuwyxUJN3hz7NrZTtejA/w640-h480/IMG_20220510_180026.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />These collections of short stories by Argentine writer and journalist Mariana Enríquez feature creepy, sad, and unsettling tales of spectral homeless children, witches and black mass ritualism, domestic abuse and violence against women. They feature deeply flawed, at times downright unsympathetic characters - usually troubled, lonely, and marginalised lost souls - and self-harm and abuse are recurring themes throughout. Described as ‘a writer whose affinity for the horror genre is matched by the intensity of her social consciousness’ <i>(1)</i> Enríquez’s stories are largely set in present-day Argentina, a backdrop of corrupt government regimes and police brutality haunts proceedings. The political undercurrent speaks of a society haunted by its past, ghost stories informed by poverty, institutional violence, and economic ruin. Among all the very real horror, Enríquez subtly introduces otherworldly, supernatural elements, situating her stories in recognisable reality and mundane domestic settings, before unleashing her remarkable and disturbing brand of horror. Vivid prose conjures a pungent, visceral atmosphere, full of heat, wetness, and odour, while a fascinating and irresistible flavour manifests from the culturally specific aspects of the Latin American setting, peppered with local lore, customs and beliefs.<div><br /></div><div>The author stated in an interview: <i>"When I make horror, I try to make it Latin American. To reimagine the subjects in accordance with our realities, to include indigenous mythologies, local urban legends, pagan saints, local murderers, the violences we live with, the social problems we suffer. Just like Carrie talks about bullying and a school massacre and religious fanaticism—problems that don’t exist on the same scale in Latin America, not because they don’t exist, but because every society has its particularities—I talk about institutional violence, popular beliefs, poverty, economic uncertainty. I try to reimagine common tropes, from cosmic horror to the ghost story, with content belonging to my own history and my own culture." (2)</i></div><div><br /></div><div>First published in 2009, <i>The Dangers of Smoking in Bed</i> (published in English in 2021) is a fantastic introduction to the work of Enríquez. Among the twelve stories are ‘Angelita Unearthed’ (the story of a woman haunted by the decaying ghost of her great aunt who died as an infant), ‘Our Lady of the Quarry’ (tension mounts between a group of friends swimming in a quarry pool in the middle of nowhere), ‘Where Are You, Dear Heart?’ (a woman realises she has a fetish for irregular heartbeats which leads to a very dark encounter) and ‘Kids Who Come Back’ (hundreds of missing children reappear out of nowhere, not a day older than when they disappeared, and begin to gather into abandoned houses while an archivist attempts to uncover what happened to them). 2016’s <i>Things We Lost in the Fire</i> continues in a similar vein and includes ‘The Dirty Kid’ (deftly mixes tragic pathos, social commentary and horror as a woman encounters a little homeless boy who may or may not be a ghost), ‘The Intoxicated Years’ (restless teens experiment with hallucinogenic drugs during a government-imposed blackout) and ‘Adela’s House’ (three children become fascinated with a derelict house in the local neighbourhood. Upon entering the house, one of them is never seen or heard from again...). </div><div><br /></div><div>If you’re an admirer of visceral, literate horror with an emphasis on intense imagery, flawed characters and unflinching social commentary, Mariana Enríquez’s short stories are for you. </div><div><br /></div><div>References:</div><div><div>(1) <a href="https://lithub.com/mariana-enriquez-on-political-violence-and-writing-horror/">https://lithub.com/mariana-enriquez-on-political-violence-and-writing-horror/</a> </div><div>(2) <a href="http://www.latinamericanliteraturetoday.org/en/2020/may/%E2%80%9Ci-see-myself-latin-american-writer%E2%80%9D-interview-mariana-enriquez">http://www.latinamericanliteraturetoday.org/en/2020/may/%E2%80%9Ci-see-myself-latin-american-writer%E2%80%9D-interview-mariana-enriquez</a></div></div><div><br /></div>James Graceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08968719719213071671noreply@blogger.com