Peter Weir stands as a cinematic virtuoso, renowned for his ability to construct visually captivating and emotionally stirring narratives that traverse realms both ordinary and extraordinary. From the enigmatic allure of “Picnic at Hanging Rock” to the existential intrigue of “The Truman Show,” Weir’s oeuvre has left an indelible mark on cinema. Yet, beneath the veneer of his seemingly tranquil tales lies a haunting undercurrent that delves into themes of control, conformity, and existential dread.
In “The Cars That Ate Paris,” Weir’s directorial debut, he presents a dystopian vision where the quaint Australian town of Paris survives by causing fatal car accidents and scavenging the wreckage. Amidst the wreckage and chaos, Weir explores the corrosive effects of greed and exploitation, unveiling the darkness that lurks beneath the facade of civilization. The film serves as a chilling allegory for the dehumanizing nature of consumerism and the consequences of unchecked ambition.
Similarly, “Picnic at Hanging Rock” transports viewers to the serene Australian outback, where the disappearance of several schoolgirls during a picnic unleashes a wave of hysteria and existential dread. As the mystery deepens and the search for the missing girls proves futile, Weir taps into the primal fear of the unknown and the fragility of human existence. Through ethereal imagery and haunting symbolism, Weir crafts a mesmerizing meditation on the enigmatic forces that shape our lives and the haunting mysteries that lie beyond our comprehension.
In “Dead Poets Society,” students at a conservative preparatory school grapple with the suffocating expectations of their parents and the institution itself, ultimately leading to tragic consequences. Weir masterfully captures the oppressive atmosphere of conformity and the dire consequences of challenging the status quo. The film serves as a poignant reminder of the high cost of individuality in a society that demands conformity above all else.
Moreover, “The Truman Show” presents a dystopian reality where Truman Burbank unknowingly lives his entire life within a meticulously crafted television set. Truman’s quest for truth and freedom becomes a compelling allegory for the existential angst of modern life, where individuals are manipulated and surveilled by unseen forces. Weir confronts the audience with uncomfortable questions about the nature of reality and the ethical implications of voyeurism and control.
Through “Witness,” Weir delves into the collision of cultures and the complexities of human nature. Set against the backdrop of an Amish community, the film explores themes of violence, redemption, and the clash between tradition and modernity. Through the character of John Book, a detective who seeks refuge in the Amish community after witnessing a murder, Weir examines the inherent darkness within humanity and the struggle for redemption in a morally ambiguous world.
Weir’s penchant for ambiguity and open-ended narratives further adds to the unsettling atmosphere of his films. In “The Last Wave,” protagonist David Burton is haunted by apocalyptic visions and enigmatic Aboriginal prophecies, blurring the lines between reality and hallucination. Weir challenges the audience to grapple with the ambiguity of truth and the limitations of human understanding.
While Peter Weir is often celebrated for his artistic vision and narrative craftsmanship, his films also serve as a potent reminder of the darker aspects of the human experience. Through his exploration of control, conformity, and existential dread, Weir invites audiences to confront uncomfortable truths about the world we inhabit and the forces that shape our lives. In peeling back the layers of his seemingly idyllic narratives, Weir reveals a profound and haunting portrait of the human condition.
As we journey back to the dark and twisted realms of horror cinema, one name stands out like a beacon of macabre brilliance: Roger Corman. And in the annals of his legacy, “The Pit and the Pendulum” (1961) shines with a particularly eerie glow. This cinematic adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s bone-chilling tale is a testament to Corman’s mastery of the genre, his keen eye for atmospheric detail, and his knack for coaxing spine-tingling performances from his actors.
At the heart of “The Pit and the Pendulum” lies the inimitable Vincent Price, whose portrayal of the tortured protagonist, Nicholas Medina, is nothing short of mesmerizing. Price’s ability to convey a sense of creeping dread with little more than a glance or a whisper is a testament to his status as the undisputed king of Gothic horror. His collaboration with Corman on the Edgar Allan Poe films remains legendary, with each installment pushing the boundaries of cinematic terror to new and terrifying heights.
But it’s not just Price’s performance that elevates “The Pit and the Pendulum” to classic status – it’s Corman’s deft direction and keen understanding of Poe’s dark and twisted universe. From the claustrophobic corridors of the Medina castle to the infernal machinations of the titular pendulum itself, Corman creates a world that is as beautiful as it is horrifying, a place where the line between reality and nightmare blurs with terrifying ease.
And so, as we look back on “The Pit and the Pendulum” with a mixture of awe and reverence, we must also pay tribute to the man behind the madness: Roger Corman. His visionary work on this film, along with his enduring collaboration with Vincent Price and his dedication to bringing Edgar Allan Poe’s chilling tales to life, has left an indelible mark on the world of horror cinema. Though Corman may no longer walk among us, his legacy lives on in the countless nightmares he’s unleashed upon unsuspecting audiences – and for that, we are eternally grateful.
Roger Corman, the legendary filmmaker, producer, and mentor, is renowned for his prolific career spanning over six decades. With a keen eye for talent, a fearless approach to storytelling, and a knack for pushing the boundaries of genre cinema, Corman has left an indelible mark on the industry. Here, we explore ten influential films that showcase his visionary genius and enduring impact on the world of cinema.
**1. “House of Usher” (1960)**
Based on Edgar Allan Poe’s classic tale, “House of Usher” marked Corman’s foray into the realm of horror. With its haunting atmosphere, Gothic aesthetics, and psychological tension, the film set a new standard for the genre and established Corman as a master of cinematic terror.
**2. “The Little Shop of Horrors” (1960)**
A darkly comedic tale of a man-eating plant, “The Little Shop of Horrors” is a cult classic that showcases Corman’s ability to blend horror and humor seamlessly. Despite its low budget and limited resources, the film remains a beloved favorite among audiences worldwide.
**3. “The Masque of the Red Death” (1964)**
Another adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s work, “The Masque of the Red Death” is a visually stunning masterpiece that delves into themes of mortality, decadence, and the human condition. With its striking imagery and atmospheric storytelling, the film is a testament to Corman’s mastery of the Gothic genre.
**4. “The Wild Angels” (1966)**
Considered one of the defining films of the biker genre, “The Wild Angels” is a gritty, uncompromising exploration of counterculture and rebellion. Starring Peter Fonda and Nancy Sinatra, the film captures the anarchic spirit of the 1960s and remains a cultural touchstone to this day.
**5. “The Trip” (1967)**
A psychedelic journey into the mind of a man on an LSD trip, “The Trip” is a visually stunning and emotionally intense exploration of consciousness and self-discovery. Directed by Corman and written by a young Jack Nicholson, the film is a landmark of the psychedelic era and a testament to Corman’s willingness to experiment with unconventional storytelling techniques.
**6. “Bloody Mama” (1970)**
Based on the true story of Ma Barker and her criminal family, “Bloody Mama” is a violent and unflinching portrayal of America’s dark underbelly. Starring Shelley Winters and Robert De Niro, the film is a raw and visceral exploration of crime, family, and the American Dream.
**7. “Death Race 2000” (1975)**
A dystopian vision of a future where death is entertainment, “Death Race 2000” is a cult classic that combines action, satire, and social commentary in equal measure. With its over-the-top violence and dark humor, the film remains a favorite among genre fans and cinephiles alike.
**8. “Piranha” (1978)**
A suspenseful and thrilling creature feature, “Piranha” is a prime example of Corman’s ability to deliver big scares on a shoestring budget. Directed by Joe Dante and written by John Sayles, the film is a clever homage to classic monster movies while offering a fresh and exciting take on the genre.
**9. “Galaxy of Terror” (1981)**
A sci-fi horror extravaganza set in deep space, “Galaxy of Terror” is a cult favorite known for its imaginative visuals, gruesome effects, and eerie atmosphere. Directed by Bruce D. Clark and featuring a young James Cameron as the production designer, the film is a testament to Corman’s ability to nurture emerging talent and push the boundaries of genre filmmaking.
**10. “The Intruder” (1962)**
A powerful and provocative drama exploring themes of racism and prejudice in the American South, “The Intruder” is a departure from Corman’s usual genre fare but showcases his versatility as a filmmaker. Starring William Shatner in a career-defining role, the film is a searing indictment of social injustice and remains as relevant today as it was upon its release.
Roger Corman’s filmography is a testament to his visionary genius, his fearless experimentation, and his enduring impact on the world of cinema. From horror to sci-fi, from comedy to drama, Corman’s influence can be felt across a wide range of genres, and his legacy will continue to inspire filmmakers and audiences for generations to come.
Inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, writer/director Laura Moss transforms the classic Gothic tale with a modern, gritty and rooted interpretation and one which elevates a tragic perspective of its two female leads.
Our Doctor Frankenstein in this instance is Morgue Technician, Dr. Rose Casper (expertly portrayed by Marin Ireland – The Dark and the Wicked) who’s obsession with raising the dead has brought her on the brink of humanity. So vastly disconnected from the world around her, Rose delivers an icy, cold and blunt demeanour, warding anyone away from her.
Rose’s methods lead her to an encounter with maternity nurse, Celie (Judy Reyes – Smile) who works ungodly hours to support her only daughter, Lila. When Lila suddenly dies, Celie’s world crumbles into grief, but unbeknownst to her, Rose has taken the body to perform her experiments and has successfully brought Lila back to life. When she first finds out, Celie is angered by the subterfuge, but soon realises that she can have a second chance of life with her daughter and before long forms a bond with the wayward Doctor Rose; one that would lead them both down a macabre, and deeply immoral path.
The Prognosis:
While it’s fair to say that there’s strength in the basis of Frankenstein for this film, Laura Moss and her co-writer Brendan J. O’Brien transforms a catastrophically modern take and weaves a deep narrative, mixed with strong performances from its two leads. Dr Rose, is candid and abrasive, content to sit on the periphery of society, and Celie forced to accompany her through the grief of losing her child. This unlikely duo is the heart of the movie and draws you into their world as a result.
The script is tightly woven together, allowing the characters to have equal opportunity to shine in its darkly lit limelight. It also takes a bold rise out of life’s slough to provide moments of bleak humour to pepper through its macabre tone.
Laura Moss captures the pulsating beat of its inspiration and amplifies with a delightfully twisted take for a contemporary audience.
There is something vividly unsettling about Robert Wise’s cinematic interpretation of the novel The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. The reason for this chilling viewing is down to a number of combinations that lead to a thrilling, psychological and paranormal experience that still haunts today, 60 years after its initial release. Beyond the subject itself which Jackson had been able to create in her novelisation of psychic researchers investigation ghostly encounters in a supposed haunted location, screenwriter Nelson Gidding (who had previously worked with Wise on I Want To Live!), had misinterpreted the story’s premise and read it as a window into the protagonist, Eleanor Vance’s (Julie Harris) mental breakdown. This happy accident would lend weight to the narrative, pushing the audience to continuously question whether the events are indeed paranormal or the subject of Eleanor’s broken mind.
Another component is Harris’s performance of Eleanor, a shy woman who becomes gradually possessed by the house. Eleanor’s reclusiveness is what makes her so compelling and estranged from the other occupants in the house. Harris at the time was battling depression and found herself naturally withdrawn from her peers, and it is this portrayal that makes her so captivating to watch.
Wise and his cinematographer Davis Boulton had also acquired an untested and warped 30mm anamorphic, wide-angle lens Panavision camera which distorted the visual results of the film. The set too was deliberately well lit, to highlight every nook and cranny, with a low ceiling to add to the claustrophobic feeling the characters go through, trapped within the walls of Hill House.
At the time of its release, The Haunting garnered mixed reviews, but time has been kind to this feature, its presence capturing the hearts and minds of viewers for cinephiles and movie lovers. In 1999, a remake was released starring Liam Neeson, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Owen Wilson and Lily Taylor but lacked the depth and emotive feeling of its predecessor. Filmmaker Mike Flannagan would come the closest with his TV series adaptation of The Haunting of Hill House, but Robert Wise would pave the way for what some have described as one of the greatest ghost stories of all time.
There is an inherent fear that we hold deeply of our fellow ‘man’ and the extremes of depravity that we go to away from the confines of urban security. It seems that the further or deeper we go into the backwoods or remote locations, the greater our fear becomes. At the turn of the seventies, now prominent film director Steven Spielberg exposed those fears in the open road, hauling ass from an unknown truck driver across the vast landscape of the US for Duel; John Boorman took the love of adventure and male bonding across the riverways into more dark terrain in Deliverance; and Terence Malik offered up a slice of teenage runaways on a killing spree in South Dakota in Badlands, but it didn’t stop on US soil. In Britain they amped up the fear of folk stories by subjecting its audience to the remote Scottish island of Summerisle in The Wicker Man; and in Australia Peter Weir was serving up some outback disturbance as political commentary for The Cars That Ate Paris. It was a growing trend that was steadily getting darker.
Arguably it was in 1974 that close scrutiny was cast on the unknown and sheltered parts of the country, and a family feasting on travellers to fuel their appetite in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre that would throw turmoil into the mix and slowly craft out the slasher sub-genre. A master of horror, Wes Craven would pick up that agitation baton and run with it for The Hills Have Eyes, casting everyday white American family against a mutant inbred family set in the heart of the Californian desert to really shake us to the core. From here on in, the audience had hillbilly horror to contend with as a new playing field for the genre.
As we etch our way into the late seventies and early 80s, the raw appeal was on show to explore through I Spit On Your Grave; Tourist Trap; and the birth of slasher itself in Friday the 13th. The eighties would then play around with this concept with similar fodder in The Burning; Don’t Go In The Woods; and Just Before Dawn. It wouldn’t be long before the subject would be made lightly and Troma Entertainment didn’t disappoint with the horror comedy, Redneck Zombies to combine this trepidation and mix it with the undead.
The nineties would prove a lonely trail until we would be taken off the road and onto an unbeaten track in 2003’s Wrong Turn, a film that has somehow spawned six follow up features. Now, this may be a contentious point but it still stands strong twenty years on to me for nostalgic purposes and no amount of tree-leaping naysayers can sway me from this opinion. And while part of my reasoning may swiftly be driven by the casting of Eliza Dushka its heroine (still a Faith fan and not in the Buffy camp), but also with a pre-Dexter Desmond Harrington and a post Clueless Jeremy Sisto in its fold. And that’s not to mention a Queens of the Stone Age track in the soundtrack to complete the auditory reckoning, and some of the team from Stan Winston studios to add the gloss and gore. Sure it’s twee horror, but it continued this trend of hillbilly horror, satiating those needs and passing on the baton again for more comedy visions in Tucker and Dale vs Evil, and full out gross horror in the remake of The Hills Have Eyes by Alexandre Aja, bringing us full circle again.
The subject is here to stay as long as our fear remains, and in a post COVID world combined with our isolated lives, surviving or not through cyber connections, surely that fear will only grow stronger and thrust us into a whole new realm of revulsion. Hopefully this will pave way for more creativity to force us on the path of destruction and desolation.
Actor Duane Jones deserves an accolade for his work on screen, having made his mark in zombie folklore as Ben for George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead,he would once again appear in another significant feature five years later. Ganja and Hess would be a vital and symbolic feature in American-African culture had initially been greenlit by producers Quentin Kelly and Jack Jordan as a response to replicate the formula generated by Blaxploitation feature Blacula. Thankfully the director charged with creating Ganja and Hess had a more sophisticated tale in mind, and one that would mark an integral voice for African-Americans in the celluloid world. Bill Gunn was most noted as a playwright, novelist and actor, would produce a feature that examined the impact of Christianity on African culture in a modern setting, infusing gothic elements as its guise.
This vampire tale would centre on Dr. Hess Green (Jones), a black anthropologist, with money to guide his research into an ancient African nation of blood drinkers. Hess’ path takes a dark turn however when he attempts to save the life of George Meda (played by Gunn) who flips proceedings by stabbing Hess with a ceremonial dagger and commits suicide. Hess survives the ordeal but takes up the practice of his studies, drinking the blood of Meda, transforming him into a vampire.
Ganja and Hess is also a character piece that is told with no clear drive from its protagonists, not necessarily guided by love or power, but by their ancestral history, tying them to their roots, shackled by their past, yet striving to break free. This is perfectly captured by the closing scene on the film when a young man is revived in his new frame and leaps gallantly in his birth suit (a symbol of rebirth) towards the camera.
The journey on the way to the climax fluctuates through the actions of Hess, and poignantly the arrival of Ganga (Marlene Clark – (Night of the Cobra Woman), Meda’s estranged wife who becomes entangled in Hess’ affairs, succumbing to vampiric charms, the two then entice others into their spiritual wake.
These activities are formed in juxtaposition to the Christian perspective, led by the films’ narrator and head of the Christian church Rev. Luther Williams (Sam Waymon), a man who strives to lure Hess towards his values. With Ganja carrying this heavy burden following Hess’ demise, this balance of perspectives is delicately poised and Gunn leads the audience to surmise their own thoughts on which way, (if any) that the pendulum should swing.
A few months ago there was a rumbling on the internet, a whisper of something coming, a promise of a film whose title was the only selling point you needed: Cocaine Bear. A modern day animal exploitation movie the likes of which we haven’t seen since Snakes on a Plane, a meme of a movie that asks the question what if a bear did cocaine? And now it’s finally here, does it live up to the name?
When a drug smuggler dumps his shipment into a national park, a host of locals and out-of-towner’s struggle to survive the brown bear that has discovered the drugs and formed a dangerous habit. The four main story threads consist of off-duty nurse, Sari (Keri Russell), searching for her young daughter; Eddie and Daveed (Alden Ehrenreich & O’Shae Jackson Jr) two criminals sent to retrieve the missing drugs by their boss Syd (Ray Liotta); police detective Bob (Isiah Whitlock Jr.) following after the criminals; and park ranger Liz (Margo Martindale) who is just trying to survive.
The movie is also set in the 80’s giving us a few anti-drug commercials of the time and some real life footage of the actual news reporting around the event at the top of the film. That’s right as the poster, trailer and movie will insist this is based on a true story, when drug smugglers dumped a cocaine shipment in the middle of the woods and indeed a bear did find it and did indeed consume cocaine but in real life the bear died whereas the film dramatises what if cocaine had the same effect on bears as spinach has to Popeye.
From the plot summary above you might guess my first issue with this film: the script. This movie runs at 95 minutes but it is overstuffed with characters. I didn’t even mention the surviving hippy running around from the opening, the three low-ambition local thugs, the two ambulance drivers (in one of the best sequences of the film), the visiting forest fire specialist, our stranger things dose of two children amongst it all and the secondary cop character who pops back up towards the end for no real impact.
Now there are some fun performances here particularly one of the young kids, Henry (Christain Convery) who gives a lot of best lines, and one of the local thugs, Kid (Aaron Holliday) who is the largest source of character comedy in the film, and Keri Russell, in her pink jumpsuit, deserves so much more love and time but with so many people running all around we just don’t have the time to properly invest and develop themes, story or plot.
Now most people will give it the Sharknado defense, “You want plot? You want a story? Who needs themes when you’ve got the cocaine bear?” but the film aspires to be more, it’s not relying on cliches to the extent that it probably should. So what we’re left is a massive cast of characters but no time to properly explore the stories that they so desperately want to tell here.
Elizabeth Banks helms the film as director, her last film being the (somewhat unfairly) maligned Charlie’s Angels reboot/sequel. It’s a shame because I’ve loved Banks as an actor for years, and I’ve been rooting for her as a director just to watch her films generally miss the mark ever so slightly and that continues to be the case here. The tone here is kind of head scratching because it’s not funny, the attempts at comedy are far and few between, I had maybe two laughs in the entire time. The aforementioned ambulance scene has a glimmer leaning more into horror but then we drop that as well. It’s just a bit of a wet mess. There’s certainly some enjoyment to be had here, there are some really fun sequences, the soundtrack bolstering the whole affair and the action is handled particularly well, hitting all the schlocky notes that the movie should have more of, but the comedy of the film mostly doesn’t hit the mark, a few too many performances just seem to be sleepwalking through the runtime and could probably use a hit of some kind of stimulant.
The titular bear though is a joy, the special effects render it impressively for the modest budget and it is stylised and cartoony just enough that it never feels terribly odd. Honestly the bear is so fun, whenever it’s on screen I want a prequel, a sequel, a whole Fast and Furious length series, son of Cocaine Bear, Abbott and Costello meet Cocaine Bear, Cocaine Bear Goes to Camp/College/Space. It’s where the rest of the cast comes in that drags the movie down.
The Prognosis:
The performances and the writing work in tandem to just sink the film below what is fun and enjoyable and turns the film into an overly ambitious 95 minute feature in need of a punch up.
There have been a number of re-imaginings or reboots of significant horror films of late. Be it Scream (2022),Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022), or Goodnight Mommy (2022). Now comes the turn of Hellraiser, Clive Barker’s vision of a realm that delicately balances the line of pleasure and pain from the novella, The Hellbound Heart. Initially brought to the screen by Barker himself back in 1987, the franchise has seen eleven instalments including this latest venture.
Charged with bringing this to light is Director David Bruckner, who has already proved his worth with solid features, The Ritualand The Night House. The focus in steering this before a new generation horror aficionados is the lament configuration, a puzzle box that opens the portal into another realm where extra dimensional beings known as cenobites lurk in the hopes of luring souls into exploring the outer reaches of sensualness through pain, suffering and satisfaction.
The Cenobites are led by The Hell Priest known as Pinhead, most notably portrayed by Doug Bradley in the past, but has seen Stephen Smith Collins and Paul T. Taylor also takes on the role which now falls into the hands of Jamie Clayton to add a more gender fluid adaptation. This allows Pinhead to weave a more sexual and sinister enticement into the realm beyond and one that Clayton captures successfully.
Hellraiser(2022) needs to find its modern voice too and does so by centring on a sibling relationship, bound by blood but torn apart by one’s vices. Riley (Odessa A’zion) is a recovering drug addict who is constantly being bailed out of dire situations by her brother Matt (Brandon Flynn). This relationship however is strained one last time when Riley is lured in by her boyfriend Trevor (Drew Starkey), to break into an abandoned warehouse to steal some goods, only to encounter the lament configuration. This discovery leads them down a path of no return, where those they are closest to will be drawn down with them.
Will Riley claw her way to survival or find a way to bargain with ‘The Surgeons’ and the Leviathan; the king of hell?
All the while another piece of the puzzle is at play with a hedonistic millionaire, Roland Voight (Goran Višnjić) who is trying to equally pull the strings of those who encounter the lament configuration in an effort to fulfil his own twisted desires. Whoever will find the right combination and reap their rewards will be pushed to the final scenes, but the cost of the victor may or may not be as expected.
The prognosis:
I have always respected the art and vision of Clive Barker, and while it’s hard to top the original vision (One that Barker helmed himself), it’s great to see the world of cenobites, Pinhead and The Hellbound Heart brought before a modern audience.
Director Bruckner once again proves he can adapt mythology and mystery with a troubled heart and its centre through a well-constructed narrative.
My one criticism is how polished it feels at times which takes away from the dark and twisted viscera that runs through Barker’s world.
Sequels. They were the lament of the 80’s. Well – they were endemic enough that it became trendy to complain that they “were never as good as the original”. Which was, and still is (more or less) accurate. But not completely. And the phenomena has morphed these days into Franchise-ism, which is more World Building than straight up sequel-ing. (A loop-hole of lawyer-like proportions that any former president would die for right now).
But another side trend seems to be prequel-ing! From Game of Thrones, to Lord of The Rings to Star Wars, for some reason content creators seem to think we want to know what happened before “once upon a time” rather than after “happily ever after” when it comes to The Next Instalment. So with that in mind, we turn to Esther – or more specifically it’s re-worked title of Orphan: First Kill. A prequel to the 2009 movie, Orphan. And with it comes a highlighted picadillo all prequels face. The age-old problem of aging. (Double edged in a film that is about a fully grown woman, pretending to be 10, in a prequel made MANY YEARS AFTER its sequel).
Before we get into the mechanics of the review itself, it must be said this film seemed to fly under the radar of this reviewer and a lot of the Surgeon’s team of a similar age bracket. Before being told about this movie, I would have said I was vaguely aware of a young girl in pigtails on the poster and that’s about it. She was probably evil and does evil things to her adoptive family ‘cause you know… she’s an (evil) orphan… Probably Satan infused in flavour (judging by the artwork etc). That’s because a story about a pale skinned girl with dark hair appearing at the end of a decade that had already produced The Ring, The Grudge and Silent Hill meant that there was probably a fair amount of “evil kid” action going on in this movie, and fatigue (for me at least) had well and truly set in. (Although in defence of Orphan, it did make a strong enough profit ratio – roughly 1 to 4 in fact – to justify some sort of new chapter).
Anyway. Orphan: First Kill explores the story that saw how Esther transitioned from Estonia to America – a plot hole from the first film that bugged a few people. Apparently. The solution the film makers came up with was inspired – in part – but the real-life adoption case of Natalia Grace, herself a 22-year-old posing as a 9-year-old in a caper that was inspired, in part, by the original Orphan film! (Google it – what an Ouroboros world we live in).
So straight off the bat young (sic) Esther tries to inject herself into the lives of a wealthy American family (the matriarch of which is played by Julia Styles. Good to see her back on the silver screen after getting killed In The Bourne Forgettable in a scene that we THINK was supposed to have some sort of emotional resonance…?) And Esther does so by claiming to be this family’s long lost 10-year-old daughter (the real one having gone missing 4 years before) and thus ensues the usual shenanigans of her pretending to be something she isn’t. How? You may ask (if you don’t know…) Esther suffers from a genetic condition that roughly translates to “proportional dwarfism” meaning she can effectively play someone much younger than she actually is. Added to that, she has a healthy dose of psychopathy so killing in her own best interest/preservation is not a problem for her.
But here’s the thing. And indeed the problem with this type of film. This twist is not (or is no longer) a twist, because we, the audience, already know it. It’s what we here at Surgeons call The Zombie Paradox. For any storyteller trying to make a zombie TV show/movie, they have to contend with viewers who know what a zombie is, and the various associated rules in dealing with them. Which means straight off the bat the story is playing catch up with the watcher and not (as you would want) the other way round. But in the case of Orphan – the ENTIRE film hung off Esther’s strange, dangerous and Omen like behaviour. Is she the child of Satan? NO – she is really 33! Dun Dun Daaaah!
But if that wad is already shot, how do you go about making a prequel?
The only recourse the film-makers basically have is to make Esther the protagonist and not antagonist (d’uh as the working title of the film is “Esther”) but digging deeper into what that means; a balancing act is required. If hers is to be the journey we are on, we need to fear for her when she is threatened and break for her when she is hurt. But she is an unhinged murderer. Not even an anti-hero (like say Dexter is) as she doesn’t kill evil. She kills threats, innocent or otherwise. An exciting writing challenge. If you get it right. But even if you do, IS that keeping in the spirit of the first movie? (See Surgeons of Horror, OUR TOP TIPS ON WHAT MAKES A GOOD SEQUEL).
An additional problem – as was brought up at the beginning of this review when we were all so much younger – is how do we convincingly address the aging elephant in the room? Esther – as a character to be cast – can only really be played by an older woman who physically looks 10, but what are the chances of someone like that who exists, has the right look, and can also act? So you go the other way, and choose someone young who can act old. And since cinema is littered with precociously talented child actors since day dot, the route this film chose back in 2009 was sort of a no-brainer. Especially since the actor in question was the then 12-year-old and fiercely powerful Isabelle Fuhrman. But now we are in (not) the next decade, but the decade after that, and Fuhrman is 25 (just a few years off Esther’s real age) and while she herself still has a youthful exuberance about her (helped no doubt by the fact she is 5’3”…it’s so much harder to play young if you’re 6’2”) ONE look at her in close up it is clear she is no longer a child. So faced with this dilemma what do the film makers do? Why go all Hobbit style and shoot force perspective, CGI and use stand ins. And whilst this worked well for LOTR, that film was 20 + years ago. Our eye had yet to be trained to be CGI cynical like it is now, and force-perspective and other old skool filming tricks were so out of fashion, they were LIKE new! But now we are well aware of such deceits and quite frankly, they really show up. (A bit like when you watch Die Hard now and it is VERY noticeable that’s not Bruce Willis getting thrown through windows or being blown up by flaming helicopters, but his stunt double. We forgave SO MUCH pre-CGI…)
But in terms of Orphan First Kill, the most obvious moments are when we track behind Fuhrman’s body double in WS, and then we cut to her face as we track backwards in Tight MS. A 10-year-old comports themselves differently to an adult. Bones and limbs are in different proportions. Neck and shoulders…it’s all different. A child waddles, an adult walks. And Fuhrman’s face – no matter how many downward angles you employ, or indeed, apple boxes you put under the actors around her – is clearly not a child. And especially when you consider the first movie – where 12-year-old Fuhrman is unmistakably Esther from all angles and frame sizes – it is very conspicuous that the coverage and overall shooting style of First Kill is starkly different. And straight away that means the feel of this film is different.
But is it any good?
Well it must be said – there is a twist at about the halfway mark that isn’t the same kind of reveal that’s in the first movie, BUT it is good enough to make you go “nice one” and sit up for the rest of the film. BUT it also negates certain character behaviours and motivations in the first half, so it also comes across as a twist that is very forced. It also – as a standalone story – really lacks the emotional compression of the first movie. The acts and story beats of the first film does an excellent job of putting Vera Farmiga’s character (who’s journey we are on for that instalment) through the wringer. Helped – as mentioned – by the fact that we the audience just don’t know Esther’s full deal till the end of the story.
The Prognosis:
So First Kill definitely lacks such layers, and with the aforementioned difference in coverage, it doesn’t feel like it’s a close relation to the other film. Although by no means awful, it’s not really worthy of its 2009 predecessor (post-ecessor?) because there is another 3rd difference that the film-makers seemly lost track of during the whole – how-do-we-make-this-story-&-Esther’s-look-work? – hullabaloo, and that is… it’s also not scary.
Surgeons of Horror 