Reviews: Walkabout

Walkabout,
Starring Jenny Agutter, Luc Roeg, David Gulpilil,
Directed by Nic Roeg

During the Lockdown, BBC4 in the UK broadcast David Stratton’s “Stories of Australian Cinema”, a three part documentary on the history and evolution of film-making in that vast, continent-sized country. Naturally one of the films covered was the legendary Nic Roeg’s 1971 movie, Walkabout and I’ve had a strong urge to revisit this film since watching the series. And then Second Sight announced a limited edition Blu-Ray of Walkabout (packed with extras, including interviews with Jenny Agutter and Luc Roeg, in a box set complete with James Vance Marshall’s original 1950s novel), and there I was losing myself in this classic again.

Both then and now there was some debate, not least in Australia itself, around whether Walkabout is really an Aussie film – a British director, US money, but shot in Australia. For my money it is very much an Australian film, not just because of the location, but the way Roeg makes that vast, ancient land an important part of the film. These are not just locations for a scene, the land itself often is the scene, or a strong part of it; the small-scale human interaction within it may drive the actual narrative, but the land itself surrounds everything they do and say, the two English children (Agutter and a very young Luc Roeg as her small brother) in their school uniforms and prim, plummy accents, outsiders in an environment they not only don’t understand but aren’t really equipped to even really try to comprehend, Gulpilil the Aboriginal boy on Walkabout, brought up to respect the land, the stories that go with it, that form his culture and his guide to survival.

The story is essentially pretty simple – the two children, Agutter and Roeg – are stranded in the Outback desert when their father, who has driven them there for a picnic, loses his mind, and attempts to kill them, before setting fire to the car and taking his own life. Agutter hides the suicide from her young brother, grabs some of the food and the two start walking. But they are from a city environment, and a strata of society that back then still had a middle-class that basically tried to recreate the middle-class English existence, there’s no attempt to adapt and assimilate into this other country, it is more an attempt to push a transplanted cultural imperialism onto it, and means they haven’t the faintest idea about the vastness of the Outback, much less how to survive (when they encounter Gulpilil Agutter asks him for water. He doesn’t speak English so she simply repeats herself as if speaking to an imbecile, before muttering that she can’t be any clearer. It’s a polite version of the modern, mono-lingual Brit abroad who thinks if they shout loudly in English the other person will understand them somehow).

The good-natured Gulpilil communicates with them through mime and gesture, mostly with Roeg’s younger brother, the two forming a bit of a bond together. Gulpilil generously helps the pair find water and shares his hunting kills with them, slowly guiding them back towards their own world after some shared travels. You could see it as strangers in a strange land fable, as a coming of age story (especially Agutter and Gulpilil, the two teens on the cusp of adulthood and all that brings with it), or as a survival story, or a mix of all three. And indeed yes, Walkabout is all of these things, but really, those are just the skeletons the film is draped over.

No, the real essence of Walkabout isn’t really those elements, it is a wonderfully-realised dream-like state, using clever imagery, symbolism and cross-cutting and editing, to create an atmosphere and imagery that is as rich as the Outback environment itself, a filmic version of the ancient Songlines and Dreamtime of Aboriginal culture, sometimes languid, like the dream of a half-waking doze on a warm day, sometimes sudden, even violent, mixing Aboriginal culture (Gulpilil, already an experienced dancer despite his young age here, crafts an intoxicating scene entirely through traditional dancing) and allusions to the Garden of Eden, innocence and its loss, nature and the urban.

This isn’t a film that is easy to review, because it’s more than a film, Walkabout is an experience, a waking dream on celluloid that can be shared, and how each of us reacts to those images and sounds will be different. It is a film to lose yourself in, to drink in those rich images, that landscape and nature. A commercial flop on its original release, it remains an important film, lauded by many critics and the BFI as a classic – it helped to kickstart the new wave of Aussie film-making which has gone on to enrich world cinema (something we here obviously care deeply about), and it launched the then-young Gulpilil onto a career which has seen him become an iconic figure in Australian cinema. If, like me, you haven’t seen this film in a long time, this is a very welcome chance to revisit this moving dream of a movie; if you haven’t seen it before then sit back and let this classic wash over you with its rich imagery.

Walkabout will receive a limited edition Blu-Ray release from Second Sight from 27th August

This review was originally penned for the Live For Films site.

Reviews: The Grudge – the Unseen Chapter

The Grudge: the Untold Chapter,
Directed by Nicolas Pesce,
Starring Andrea Riseborough, Demián Bichir, John Cho, Betty Gilpin, Lin Shaye, Jacki Weaver

Directed by the gifted Nicolas Pesce (Eyes of My Mother), and produced by the legendary Sam Raimi, and with a very fine cast, this new take on the established horror franchise created y Takashi Shimizu promises a lot, this promises a lot, but sadly only partially delivers. Originally conceived as a new start on the US version of the J-horror classic series, during production this changed tack, deciding not on a reboot but on a side story, an offshoot covering events that take place in the established history of the other films.

Fiona Landers (Tara Westwood), an American nurse working in Japan in 2004, visits the now infamous house in Tokyo, and leaves in a disturbed state of mind. In fact she is so shaken by her visit to this house she phones in her resignation to the nursing agency and is on the next flight back home, desperate to return to American and her husband and daughter. What she doesn’t realise – and long-term fans will already have guessed – is that anyone who sets foot in that house is now under its curse, and that curse knows no geographical constraints. Fiona is, in effect, bringing the curse to her own home, without being aware of it…

The film takes a multi-part approach to the narrative, criss-crossing different people and families in different years who are all affected by the curse after coming into contact with the house which was once the happy family home of the Landers, including Betty Gilpin’s (Glow) Nina Spencer and Star Trek’s John Cho as her husband Peter, who don’t even live there, but as estate agents come into contact with the curse when Peter visits the house after being unable to get the Landers to answer their phone to deal with their house sale. Others drawn into this cursed orbit include horror queen Lin Shaye (Insidious), newly bereaved detective Muldoon (Andrea Riseborough) and her young son trying to make a new life in a new home after the loss of her husband, and local police officers, one of whom senses the curse and avoids the house, while his partner is slowly driven mad by it.

I thought this multi-chronology approach, with multiple story arcs converging as Muldoon investigates a newly-found body in a car in the woods (newly-found but one that had clearly been there for years) that is linked to the house, a house with a history of previous deaths, was pretty clever in principle, but, for me at least, it didn’t quite deliver as much as it should, with the moving between different characters in different years making it hard to settle into the narrative or really get to know and care about the characters. That said I salute the attempt to shape a different storyline from the previous entries – I’m glad they wanted to make something a bit different, I’m just not sure it entirely gels as it should have.

This is not to say it is a bad film overall though – this old horror hound still found some pleasures here, Pesce and his very fine cast delivering some nicely chilling – and in some cases quite gruesome (a scene chopping food in the kitchen made even me wince) scenes, and, as I said, the idea of the multi-angled narrative of several different years in the life of the cursed house and those whose lives it corrupts is interesting, and a refreshing change of tack in the franchise, and I appreciated that this is part of the established history of the series rather than a reboot. Pesce and cinematographer Zachary Galler also frame and light some very effective scenes (William Sadler’s Detective Wilson, standing on the lawn in the pouring rain, just staring at the house is as disturbing as the more overtly horror moments). It’s not going to win over any new converts, I think, but while flawed, it still has some effective moments and long-time Grudge fans should still find it interesting.

The Grudge: the Untold Chapter is released by Sony Pictures UK on Digital from May 18th, and on DVD and Blu-Ray from June 1st, including bonus material and alternate ending.

Reviews: A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood

A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood,
Directed by Marielle Heller,
Starring Tom Hanks, Matthew Rhys, Susan Kelechi Watson, Chris Cooper, Maryann Plunkett, Enrico Colantoni

“You don’t consider yourself famous?”

“Fame is a four letter word, like tape, or zoom and face. Ultimately what matters is what you do with it.”

“What are you doing with it?”

“We are trying to give children positive ways to deal with their feelings.”

Fred Rogers, simply knowns as “Mister Rogers” to generations of child viewers, was an institution in American broadcasting for children, an integral part of many a childhood, a virtual friend to many kids who needed one, with his show, Mister Rogers Neighbourhood, which ran from 1968 to 2001 (with a small gap in the 70s). Like many in the UK I knew very little about him as the show wasn’t really known here, and most of what I knew about it I had picked up from references in countless American TV shows and films (the amount of times the show and the man are mentioned in so many different programmes and films gives you an idea of how embedded in the popular culture it was in the US, generations grew up with this).

Not being overly familiar with the show and so lacking that nostalgic affection for it, I was curious to see this movie (especially after it garnered praise at the highly respected Toronto film fest), but also rather worried that without that familiarity and affection for the show and the man, that I might not be able to connect with it. Well, that wasn’t the case – Marielle Heller and her crew and cast (especially Hanks, pretty much perfectly cast, and Rhys as the cynical journalist Lloyd) have crafted a film which is universally accessible to all viewers, regardless of their familiarity or lack thereof with the show, because this film is, at its very core, a film about the emotional depths of the human soul, about the dark places, the things that frighten us, worry us, make us angry, and how we can try to overcome them, about how it is is a good thing to listen, to be there for someone, to help, and in turn that it is okay to admit we are scared or angry, and to take a hand when it is offered.

The film is not, as I first thought, a biopic about Rogers (played by Tom Hanks), rather it is inspired by a late 1990s article about him for Esquire magazine. Journalist Lloyd Vogel (Matthew Rhys) is a famous and respected investigative journalist, and more than a little put out when his editor hands him the assignment of a short interview with Rogers for a special issue on heroes. He’s far from happy, considering this a puff piece, and after his brief meeting with Rogers during a short break filming his show, he feels that there is something more here. While everyone loves Mr Rogers, he starts to think there must be something else, darker, hidden behind the home-knitted cardigans and gentle manner, and begins to plan a much longer piece on his own.

We’ve sadly become all too use to many much-loved popular culture figures later being exposed as something so far from their warm, public persona, and often feel a sense of betrayal, of another layer of cynicism added to our emotional armour when this happens. Here, however, the darkness is very much Lloyd’s own problems being reflected – his cynicism, his still simmering anger years later at the loss of his mother, of his estranged, womanising father’s betrayal of her when she was ill, his worries about responsibility for his and his wife Andrea (Susan Kelechi Watson) and their newborn baby. Rogers sees this in Lloyd, and with the same patient, understanding, reassuring approach he took to helping kids deal with emotional problems on his show, he gently befriends Lloyd, helping him to realise he can face that loss, grief and anger, but come through the other side.

This really, really could have ended up being a sugary, shmaltzy, syrupy story. That it isn’t is a huge credit to Heller, Hanks and Rhys, who offer a quite beautiful, emotional tale that will want to make you both cry and smile, while also giving some lovely visual treats – the model of the neighbourhood that was used in the show re-appears here (as do the various puppet characters and others), but that model approach is then also used for the different locations throughout the film, a lovely touch (and props to the model makers re-creating this in the same style as the original), or Lloyd hallucinating himself to be the size of the show’s puppets, on the model set, being asked by Fred about his problems, or a moment with the pair on the New York subway, where passengers recognise Rogers and start to sing his theme song, to his delight.

No, this may be a feel-good film in many ways, but it avoids most of the normal, overly-sugary traps those kinds of films often fall into. Instead we have a piece which feels very empathic, emotionally – you may well find yourself thinking about moments good and bad in your own life as you watch (I certainly did). Neighbourhood takes us on that emotional journey, but tell us that it’s okay, that it’s only human to feel, that it is okay to be sad sometimes, that anger is normal, it is what we do with them, how we deal with them that is important, and how we deal with one another, that bad things happen to us sometimes, but so often there is someone there who wants to help, and it is not weakness to take that hand that reaches out to you. As our entire global community deals with stresses and strains of the pandemic, this may very well be an almost perfect film to enjoy. An absolutely beautiful, warm, emotional journey.

A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood is released by Sony on home digital from May 25th, and on DVD and Blu-Ray from June 8th

Reviews: The Man With X-Ray Eyes

The Man With X-Ray Eyes,
Directed by Roger Corman,
Starring Ray Milland, Diana Van der Vlis, Harold J Stone, John Hoyt, Don Rickles

Here’s an under-rated gem from the stable of the legendary Roger Corman, 1963’s The Man With X-Ray Eyes (aka X: the Man With X-Ray Eyes). I remember reading about this in some movie monster books when I was a kid, and seeing it late night on TV in my teens, but it rarely aired as often as the old Hammer or Universal movies did, and I haven’t seen it in decades. So I am delighted that Second Sight have brought it back, and indeed given it the deluxe treatment: a limited edition Blu-Ray set with a newly restored print, plenty of extras (including interviews with Roger Corman and Joe Dante), poster, a book by Jon Towlson and Allan Bryce, and boasting excellent new cover artwork by the always-brilliant Graham Humphreys.

For those who haven’t seen this very unusual slice of 60s Sci-fi/horror, made between shooting some of those iconic Edgar Allan Poe films Corman is still, rightly, highly regarded for, it follows Doctor James Xavier (Ray Milland), a physician who is working on an experimental mixture which he administers as eye droplets, with the goal of allowing human sight to be expanded. As he explains to his ophthalmologist friend Doctor Sam Bran (Harold J. Stone), in the last few decades humans have discovered a wide electro-magnetic spectrum – ultraviolet, X-rays and more – that their natural senses cannot see. What if they could, with their own eyes, not with imprecise instruments? Imagine how this would help a medical doctor – no fuzzy X-Ray plates, they can literally see through flesh and bone to diagnose an illness, formulate the correct treatment.

While his friends caution him for pushing too far, too quickly, Xavier is eager to test his work, despite the death of a test animal. His reasoning is that the animal couldn’t comprehend what its new visual senses showed it, but he, as a rational, intelligent being, can learn to do so. He is, well, partially correct – at least at first. He finds his new vision increasing, going from being able to read a letter through another sheet of paper covering it, to being able to see into a patient being readied for surgery, a young woman, and he can see what is wrong – a different diagnosis from the attending surgeon, leading to a showdown between the pair as Xavier uses his new powers to save her life.

It’s at this point that things start to spiral out of control – the medical authorities will not accept his abilities, and therefore not believe them as his excuse for his behaviour in the operating theatre (despite saving the patient). His career hanging in the balance, his research funding cut, struggling to control his new abilities, a terrible accident leads to him having to flee to avoid arrest. Desperate for somewhere to hide and continue his research (and a way to reverse the new visual abilities too), Xavier takes refuge, of all places, in a carnival sideshow, posing as a stage magician who can read minds and tell secrets (it’s here he comes into contact with the nasty, selfish carnival barker Crane, played by Don Rickles, in a rare straight, dramatic role), before also trying to use his new abilities to win in Vegas, to get sufficient funds to get his research going once more.

It remains one of the more unusual horror classics of that era – amazingly shot in something like three weeks for a budget of only $300, 000 (tiny, but huge by the normal American International Pictures’ budget standards!). Naturally, given the era it was made in, the special effects are not exactly dazzling – to be fair, this isn’t just because of budget restrictions, the technology to show what they really wanted was simply not there at the time. Despite this the effects team and art director still, in my opinion, managed to give the viewer the feeling of Xavier’s increasing dislocation, as his powers grow, as he can see more and further.

The visual processing in the human brain is enormously complex (as AI programmers have found in trying to replicate it with technology), and also relies on years of us learning to interpret the visuals coming into our brain into something coherent. While Xavier can cope with the titular X-Ray vision, as he begins to see more, things he didn’t even know existed, seeing into matter and the universe itself, he’s slowly losing his mind, and those visual effects, for all their early crudeness, do a good job of conveying this, in conjunction with the excellent Milland’s acting. (it isn’t all drama and doom though, there is some fun to be had, such as Xavier realising he can see through everyone’s clothes at a party, a nod to the old X-Ray specs gimmicks sold in the back pages of comics).

Adding much to this story is the fact that this isn’t the formulaic Mad Scientist story. Yes, Xavier may have a little arrogance of the highly skilled doctor who believes he knows better than others, but he’s not a bad man, and risking his career to save the young woman using his powers shows that he is a decent man. He genuinely wants to use these new abilities to advance medicine, to save more lives, to expand scientific knowledge, and that’s a large part of what really makes this such a compelling film, because he’s not a madman trying to take over the world, he’s a pioneer, with his heart in the right place, who succumbs eventually to the new, uncharted discoveries he has made, like the Curies and other scientists before him.

“What did he see?” asks his love interest, Doctor Diane Fairfax (Diana Van der Vlis) of the unfortunate test monkey who proves the formula works, but dies afterwards. Those words haunt the film, as the abilities Xavier has gained become cumulative, taking him far beyond even the broadest speculations in science, into new realities he simply cannot cope with. He can’t even escape by closing his eyes now, because he can see right through the lids. This well-intentioned work leading to disaster lends the story a deeper, emotional, tragic aspect that compels as strongly as the idea of the new discovery does. An absolute classic of Sci-fi and Horror.

The many extras in this special edition are also great, not least the iconic Corman talking about the making of the film, how he came up with the rough idea, originally thinking he knew some of his musician friends on the jazz scene dallied in drugs, and perhaps he should make the central character a musician who overdoses, before realising he hated that idea, and going back to the notion of having a scientist, someone who was pushing into new frontiers without realising what the consequences would be. Corman also talks about his desire to remake the film, with modern effects able to realise the remarkable new visual abilities of Xavier in any way they want. Personally while the story is strong enough to stand a remake, and the modern visuals would indeed be better, as I said, it isn’t the visuals which really make this film so powerful, it’s the central idea and especially Milland’s performance that do so.

The Man With X-Ray Eyes will be available from Second Sight on limited edition Blu-Ray from May 4th.

Reviews: Charlie’s Angels

Charlie’s Angels,
Directed by Elizabeth Banks,
Starring Kristen Stewart, Naomi Scott, Ella Balinska, Patrick Stewart, Djimon Hounsou, Elizabeth Banks

Elizabeth Banks writes, directs and stars in this latest take on the all-woman super-team that was such a popular staple of 1970s TV viewing. Originally touted as a reboot several years after the frantically bonkers fun of the McG Angels films with Lucy Liu, Cameron Diaz and Drew Barrymore, instead the decision was taken to make this a continuation of both the films and the original TV series. Not that this is a sequel – it is a new story and new Angels that you could take as stand-alone if you so wished, but it tips its hat with some montages and cameos to the TV series and the films, to include them in this history. This is, effectively, a new entry in those stories, set years on with the latest recruits, but, rather satisfyingly, I thought, including that previous history as a background (even including original 1970s Angel Jaclyn Smith in a cameo as one of the senior staff who train the new girls).

Since the events of the previous films the Townsend Agency has gone international, in an expansion lead by the main Bosley (now a rank in the organisation), John Bosley, played by Patrick Stewart (who looks as if he was having a lot of fun here), with other Bosleys in charge in offices in different cities and countries, and a larger roster of highly-trained Angels on call for missions around the globe (although here this is mostly background, with the story, wisely, sticking mostly to the tried and tested tradition of the triumvirate of three women agents and a Bosley to help). We open with a mission to bring in a creepy international fraudster, the sort of man who happily steals from disaster relief funds, brought down by his misogynistic take on women (Kristen Stewart’s Sabina using this weakness to infiltrate then take him down with help from the other Angels, including Ella Balinska’s impressive Jane Kano, a former MI6 operative). This success crowns John Bosley’s final act at the Townsend Agency as he is preparing to retire.

The main story follows Sabina and Jane in Europe, following up on Elena Houghlin (Naomi Scott), a programmer at a hi-tech firm with a radical (and badly needed) new power device for the world, which she has found has a serious problem – it can be hacked to be used as a deadly weapon rather than purely for good as an environmentally-friendly form of energy. Her attempts to tell the head of the company, Alexander Brock (Sam Claflin) about this and how she can fix it are thwarted by an oily supervisor, Fleming (Nat Faxon), and a cold and relentless assassin, Hodak (Jonathan Tucker), which is, of course, where our heroines step in.

I’m not going to risk any spoilers by going too far into the plot, which, anyway, is, as you’d probably expect from this kind of movie, delighting in twisting around with surprises and double-crosses and red-herrings as to who really is pulling the strings here, and why, and just how this involves the Townsend Agency in ways they never expected. Suffice to say it rolls along at a cracking pace, and while the style is different from the McG films (which had a very stylised look and cut), there is a similar mix of action and humour and some bonding between these very different but equally strong and determined women.

We get high-kicks, car chases, abseiling off tall buildings, clever gadgets (mostly non-lethal, these are the Angels, after all, they prefer not to just shoot people) and globe-trotting locations and stylish outfits. In other words we get pretty much what we want from this sort of film: it’s a great, fun ride of action and humour, with Stewart and Balinska particularly strong as two very different personalities that still manage to be complimentary despite those differences, and there is always that great underlying message that Angels, new and old, are unstoppable when they work together. A perfect Saturday night popcorn movie to enjoy.

Charlie’s Angels is released by Sony Pictures Home Entertainment on digital on from March 23rd, and on Blu-Ray and DVD from April 6th

This review was originally penned for Live For Films

Reviews: The Invitation

The Invitation,
Directed by Karyn Kusama,
Starring Logan Marshall-Green, Emayatzy Corinealdi, Michiel Huisman, Aiden Lovekamp, Michelle Krusiec, Tammy Blanchard

Other than the fact The Invitation debuted to some acclaim at the London Film Festival, I knew next to nothing about this film in advance (a rare occurrence these days when we hear about most films well in advance), but frankly they had me at Karyn Kusama. Kusama impressed me with her Nicole Kidman-starring Destroyer, which I reviewed on here back in the spring (see here). When I realised it was the same director I was more than happy to have a look at The Invitation, and I am glad I did, as it proved to be a masterclass in tension and discomfort, right from the start.

Will (Logan Marshall-Green) and his partner Kira (Emayatzy Corinealdi) are driving up into the hills behind LA, invited to a dinner party with old friends, hosted by his ex-wife Eden (Tammy Blanchard) and her new husband David (Michiel Huisman). The sense of something out of joint is present right from the start, when Kira and Will’s car hits a coyote on the isolated, tree-lined road up through the hills. And this isn’t just a sudden accident, Kusama drags the scene out – the animal is mortally wounded but not dead yet, making the whole incident more distressing. Will is already uncomfortable at the thought of returning to the house he once shared with his former wife, without this incident – a portent? – on the way.

I imagine most of us would feel awkward at having dinner with and ex and their new partner, and in this case we learn that it is a gathering of a bunch of old friends, but none of them have heard from Eden in a couple of year, leaving them all wondering, understandably, why now, out of the blue, they send an overly-elaborate invitation insisting they all get together at this time. Will is clearly ill at ease, and we gradually discover through tiny flashbacks of memory, triggered as he goes round the home he once shared with Eden, that this isn’t just because they are ex-partners, it is that something happened to them something very, very bad, something that drove them apart and almost finished both of them. Something that happened around this house…

This makes Will question why she can stand living here again, not to mention the strange serenity she and David seem to now possess – a rather creepy form of serenity, the type you expect from someone sucked into some phoney therapy or cultish type group. And then they mention a group run by a guru in Mexico, and introduce two strangers into this reunion of friends, two people the rest have never seen before but David and Eden know from this Mexican retreat. Again Will wonders why these two, odd strangers have been invited to what is meant to be a gathering of old fiends?

The others, even his girlfriend Kira, think he is over-reacting, that it is his history with this house, Eden and the tragedy that befell them that is causing him to react so badly to the evening, to jump at shadows, suspect for no reason. Perhaps he is still disturbed, discomfited, out of his element, in a place he doesn’t want to be. But why does David lock all the doors once everyone is in? Why are there bars on the windows, why is there no phone service, why are Eden and David so keen nobody leaves early?

Is this all in Will’s abused psyche or is something really wrong here? I don’t want to ruin anything with possible spoilers, so I won’t say anymore on the plot. I must say, though, Kusama, crafts such a sense of ever-increasing unease throughout the film, expertly cranking up the sense of wrongness and disturbing atmosphere, but for much of it leaving us to wonder how much is genuinely out of kilter and how much is the broken psyche of Will reacting badly to this event. The slow reveal of the tragedy that befell him and Eden aids in this and gradually changes the viewer’s perspective, leading to a fascinating and darkly compelling third reel.

The sense of tension, of unease and wrongness lurking below what seems like a lovely home and group in a nice area is beautifully done – think Blue Velvet era Lynch crossed with Get Out, perhaps, and the use of mostly one location – the house – enclosed everything and makes it more tense, more claustrophobic. Highly recommended.

The Invitation is released on Blu-Ray (with a raft of extras, including commentary by Kusama, making of and interview features) by Second Sight on November 4th

Reviews: “lost” 90s horror movie Skinner get the 4k Treatment

Skinner,
Directed by Ivan Nagy,
Starring Ted Raimi, Traci Lords, Richard Schiff, David Warshofsky,
101 Films

Unavailable for years – some thought it was actually lost – the late Ivan Nagy’s 1993 is returning to the horror movie scene with a spiffing 4k resurrection on Blu-Ray by 101’s Black Label. Dennis Skinner (Ted Raimi), wanders from town to town, pursuing his obsession – in a nice bit of normative determinism, our Dennis enjoys not only nice, long walks in the seedier parts of town, but picking up sex workers who he not only kills but then expertly skins, keeping those skins as trophies. And even more disturbingly, to wear, to show his “true self”.

The story has elements of the 80s slasher, with the focus on killing young women in bloody fashion, with elements of the serial killer genre (not least Silence of the Lambs’ Buffalo Bill and his woman “skin suit”, and a couple of scenes that hint to Norman Bates in Psycho). One of the aspects which differentiates between this and other similar horrors of the era though, is the use of Ted Raimi. Of course Raimi is no stranger to horror and the fantastic genres, having been in everything from Dark Man to a recurring role in Xena. Fair to say, in fact, Ted is a much-loved genre regular.

Here however Nagy is playing Raimi against type – there is always something of the charming goofball about his characters, and normally a lot of humour and a fair bit of charm too. And those qualities are here, and feel very Ted Raimi. And then we see the other side come out, the monster within that charming, smiling, considerate, polite, affable guy in glasses, a monster created in his youth by a brutalising father and the murder and dismemberment of his mother by his father in a grotesque parody of an autopsy.

I must admit at first I wasn’t entirely convinced – the initial glimpses of Raimi’s Skinner letting his restrained inner demon out didn’t quite work for me, it was hard to buy cuddly Ted as an evil killer. But the more I watched the more I revised that opinion because I realised that was more than likely the intention here, that we’d find it difficult to believe one of his characters could be this nasty. Like Ted Bundy and some other real-world serial killers, Raimi’s Skinner is the last person you’d expect to be a bloody-minded psychopath, he seems the nicest, gentlest person, always a ready smile, and that’s a major part of Skinner’s draw here, having a monster who, most of the time, doesn’t seem like a monster.

Traci Lords plays Heidi, the only streetwalker to survive Skinner’s murderous thirst for women, terribly disfigured and in constant pain, hiding her multiple scars and wounds as she relentlessly hunts for Skinner. As with many serial killers Skinner has a preferred method of operating, and as Heidi mutters, this makes him “as creature of habit, predictable”, aiding her quest to hunt him and seek revenge. As the film progresses and we see more of her, while sympathising with the suffering inflicted on her and her right to seek her own brand of justice, the film also starts to intimate that her scarring is as much mental as physical, and that, in some ways, her single-minded pursuit, letting no-one stand in her way, has perhaps made Heidi something of a monster, a dark twin of Skinner, the two drawn together in mutual violence and pain.

Some of the film very much shows its 1990s roots – a hidden area in a run-down factory that Skinner uses as a lair is lit with contrasting spots of green, blue and red light that were a style in more than a few productions of the time, but given that’s when it was made that’s fair enough. The early killings are fairly quiet and almost bloodless on-screen – a sex worker lured away, the intimation of Skinner about to strike, then a cutaway to flashes of skin being cut, but only brief flashes rather than the grand guignol bloodbath some may expect. Theses scenes grow longer and more explicit as the film progresses, however, which is more effective in ratcheting up the levels of tension and horror, and while we have to wait for those longer scenes – and the slow reveal of what Skinner does with those pieces of skin he slices from the victims – it works to the film’s advantage.

Skinner is getting the full 4k restoration treatment, and arrives from 101 Films on a dual-format Blu-Ray and DVD, with extras including interviews with Nagy and Raimi, and a limited edition booklet.

Reviews: new Brit horror-comedy in Double Date

Double Date,
Directed by Benjamin Barfoot,
Starring Danny Morgan, Georgia Groome, Michael Socha, Kelly Wenham

Fresh from a good reception at FrightFest (always a good sign), this new horror-comedy with a strong gender element, Double Date arrives on home screens this month. Jim (Danny Morgan) is quiet, awkward socially, especially with women, and facing his imminent 30th birthday as a virgin. His best mate, Alex (This is England’s Michael Socha) is the polar opposite, cocksure, always on the pull, a jack-the lad and boy around town. For all his teasing of Jim, though, it’s also clear that under the cocky, laddish banter he actually cares about his friend, and in the tradition of many a movie, he’s determined he’s going to get his friend laid before his birthday.

Meanwhile we’ve already had a glimpse of sisters Kitty (Kelly Wenham) and Lulu (Georgina Groome), going home with a pair of men from a nightclub to a huge country home, the men delighted, thinking their luck is in, as they split up, one going with each sister, Kitty taking her partner upstairs. There’s music and a lot of body on body action, but not quite the sort of penetration the young man was hoping for as Kitty goes to work on him with a knife and a mad stabbing frenzy.

The next evening they are back out on the prowl at the nightclub, the same club where Jim and Alex are cruising (well, Alex is cruising, Jim is just ambling along). And they notice Jim, much to his surprise, in fact they seem to be inviting his attentions, more interested in him than self-proclaimed stud Alex. But Alex pitches in gamely, trying to advise Jim on the “perfect” pick up line and techniques (their regular barmaid tries to dissuade him from this awful, corny approach), even going so far as feeding Jim text messages as he talks to the girls, trying to give him prompts, which of course Jim makes a mess of. And yet, somehow the girls are still interested and agree to meet both men again the next evening for a date.

Are they serial killers who get their thrills seducing hapless, hopeless young men like Jim and then leading them to the slaughter? There are signs that there is more than just thrill-killing going on here, there are elements of ritual – however bizarre and deranged – that hint there is a deeper and darker purpose to the murderous crime spree the girls are indulging in., possibly something supernatural…

This is a very enjoyable Brit comedy-horror, right from the start it is clear both director and cast are having some fun with this movie. Sure, the sisters are lethal, seductive killers, but there’s a lot of humour here, much of it as the expense of poor Jim, and there is good use of the difference between both pairs, between Kitty (seen training for the violence to come, seeming to embrace and even enjoy it) and Lulu (who appears more to be going along with her sister’s plans but isn’t really happy with them), and Jim, hopeless yet nice, constantly putting his foot in it, and Alex, the cocky lad who under it all really actually has feelings and cares about his buddy.

It’s a nice combination of elements, creating a fun ride, a nice mixture of horror, some gender-inversions, humour and even some delightfully inept but well-meant romantic moments. A good Friday night slice of viewing.

Double Date will be released on DVD, Blu-Ray and digital platforms by Sparky Pictures from September 9th

Reviews: Asylum and The House That Dripped Blood

Asylum,
Directed by Roy Ward Baker,
Starring Robert Powell, Barbara Perkins, Peter Cushing, Charlotte Rampling, Britt Ekland, Herbert Lom, Barry Morse, Patrick Magee, Richard Todd

Second Sight are bringing us two very welcome limited edition Blu-Ray discs featuring some classic Brit-horror from Hammer’s arch-rival Amicus, famous for their “portmanteau” films which would offer up several short stories, tied together by a framing narrative. Despite their quick turnaround times and relatively low budgets, Amicus never skimped on paying for top thespian talent for these films, which many horror fans have tremendous affection for, and both films here – 1971’s The House That Dripped Blood, and 1972’s Asylum – boast some terrific names here, from Herbert Lom to Robert Powell, the great Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, Ingrid Pitt (surely one of the all-time iconic Horror Queens?) and the one and only Jon Pertwee, while the stories and scripts come from the legendary Robert Bloch (Psycho). What a wonderful smorgasbord! Let’s start with Asylum.

Asylum’s framing device features a young Robert Powell, well before his international stardom with Jesus of Nazareth and The Thirty Nine Steps. Powell plays Doctor Martin, arriving at a remote former country house now housing the criminally insane, where the the head of the asylum, Doctor Rutherford (the velvet-voiced Patrick Magee) has offered him a job, if he can pass his test. One of the inmates is in fact Doctor Starr, the former head of the asylum before his own incident drove him into madness. Martin is to interview each of the inmates to see if he can discern which one is the former doctor, leading us into the four short films within the film.

Frozen Fear sees unfaithful husband Walter (D-Day veteran and Dambusters star Richard Todd) plotting with his lover to dispose of his rich wife Bonnie (Barbara Parkins), who holds the purse strings and the whip hand in their strained relationship, and doesn’t he just know it, his frustration evident in every syllable he utters to his wife. It’s no spoiler with this kind of story to tell you that he follows through on his plan to murder his wife, but the pleasure here is in seeing what happens next – Bonnie, you see, was a follower of a Voodoo priest, and killing her off is just the start of Walter’s nightmare…

The Weird Tailor has a pre-Space 1999 Barry Morse as a tailor, Bruno, now down on his luck, behind with the rent, engaged for a handsome fee by Mr Smith (Peter Cushing), for a very peculiar suit. He provides Bruno not only with some very unusual material (which has a very 1970s special effect changing-colour glow to it, perhaps a bit cheesy but quite fun and suitable for the era) but very specific instructions requiring him to work only at certain nocturnal hours. The suit is for a very unusual customer and purpose, that will enmesh the two – both desperate men, but for different reasons – into a strange, tragic tale.

In Lucy Comes to Stay, Martin interviews Charlotte Rampling’s Barbara. Barbara was released from some sort of unspecified care regime to return to the home she shares with her brother George (James Villiers), with Megs Jenkins’ Nurse Higgins in attendance to take care – an almost smothering care – of the troubled Barbara. It soon transpires that Barbara has an imaginary friend, the eponymous Lucy (Wicker Man’s Britt Ekland), who tries to persuade her to escape this care regime and sow dissension between her and her brother (reminding her that their parents left the home to her, not him). But is Lucy just a figment of Barbara’s imagination, of her illness, or something more?

The final vignette, Mannikins of Horror, is, for my money, the strongest of the suite and the most memorable, largely due to the presence of Herbert Lom as Doctor Byron. Byron is proud of his many doctorates and talks to Martin as a fellow professional at first, revealing his new interest, creating tiny toy robot-like figures with sculpted human heads on them – heads Martin recognises as people in the asylum. Byron, seems quite coherent and sensible as he talks to Martin, but he soon starts to expound on how he can project his astral body from his physical body, placing it into these small figures and controlling them to do his will, with one made with his own likeness and supposedly containing miniature organs and brain. Nonsense, of course, and he becomes agitated as Martin clearly doesn’t believe him. But what if this is no mere boast of a deluded mind? This story makes much of Lom, with numerous close-ups of his face that exert a real sense of the disturbingly weird, and builds to a very satisfying climax, which also serves to bring the short tales back into the closing part of the framing narrative.

The House That Dripped Blood,
Directed by Peter Duffell,
Starring Denholm Elliott, Joanna Dunham, Peter Cushing, Joss Ackland, Nyree Dawn Porter, Christopher Lee, Jon Pertwee, Ingrid Pitt

Bloch also performed writing and script duties for The House That Dripped Blood, again a set of four short tales, linked by a framing narrative, in this case Inspector Holloway (John Bennet), investigating the mysterious disappearance of a famous actor, Paul Henderson (the great Jon Pertwee), from the old country home he had rented while shooting a film nearby. Holloway, as he investigates, discovers the same house has been home to more than just this one mystery, almost as if it is cursed…

Method For Murder opens this collection of tales, with Denholm Elliott’s horror author Charles Hillyer and his wife Alice (Joanna Dunham), renting the house as an ideal spot for him to deal with some writer’s block and get on with a new book. But as Charles rediscovers his writing mojo and gets into his new book project, he is disturbed by hallucinations in which he glimpses Dominic (Tom Adams), the grotesque, psychotic central character of his new tale, a figure only he sees, in glimpses at first, through a window or the corner of his eye, but then closer and more threatening. Only Charles can see him, though, leading him to confide in his wife and his therapist that he fears he is losing his mind. But what if these are not just hallucinations? I was reminded a little of the much, much later Secret Window with Johnny Depp and John Turturo – perhaps these two tales would make a decent evening’s horror viewing!

Waxworks have always carried something of the Uncanny Valley about them, equally fascinating and somehow discomfiting at the same time, so it is no surprise to see a tale entitled Waxworks here. The wonderful Peter Cushing’s retiree Philip Grayson rents the house, looking for a bit of peace and quiet, and when he wants anything he drives into the nearby town, where he discovers the titular Waxworks. Drawn to it he finds himself in the Chamber of Horrors (of course, don’t we all when we visit a waxworks?), where he sees a figure of a woman who reminds him all too much of his own lost love. The owner – Wolfe Morris, exuding a deliciously creep air – tells Philip that visitors all appear to see in this figure’s face what they want to see, usually someone they have known. When Philip’s friend Neville (Joss Ackland) comes to visit his new home, he insists on patronising the waxworks in the town too, where he too is taken by the figure of the woman in the chamber of horrors, but what is it that draws them to it?

In Sweets to the Sweet we’re treated to another great – Christopher Lee – moving into the house with his young daughter, Jane Reid (Chloe Franks). Nyree Dawn Porter’s governess Ann Norton is less than impressed with Lee’s widower John Reid and the distant and seemingly puritan manner in which he treats the small girl. She is forbidden from going to school, only to be educated by Ann in the seclusion of the home, restricted from playing with other children, he even reacts furiously when Ann, growing close to the child, buys her some toys, including a doll. He maintains he has his reasons and it is hinted that they are linked to his deceased wife, but what could drive a father to be this way with his only child?

Closing out these short stories we have the great Jon Pertwee, partnered up with Brit-horror icon Ingrid Pitt. Pertwee is playing a famous actor, Paul Henderson (the one whose disappearance the inspector is investigating in the framing narrative), the classic, over-bearing, “I’m the Star” type of egotistical, “do you know who I am?” kind of actor, renting the house while shooting a horror film at a nearby studio. Paul is to play a vampire in the film, but he is contemptuous of the young director, of the quality of the set and his costume. He declares he will find something better himself and in visiting a peculiar old shop and explaining he requires the sort of cape that a “Transylvanian Vampire might wear” gets much more than he ever bargained for… This one really relied on Pertwee using his booming voice and his remarkable range of expressions, and the inclusion of Ingrid Pitt (Carmilla/Countess Dracula herself!) is the icing on the cake for any old-school horror fans.

Like many horror fans I have long had a tremendous affection for these portmanteau films – they are, in many ways, the cinematic equivalent of reading the old Weird Tales, Uncanny or Eerie comics, or the collections like the Pan Best Horror series of books, short, juicy hits with a twist in the tail (or tale). The fact you can often see the twists coming doesn’t matter in the slightest, in fact I think for some of us it is part of the fun with these films, as with the aforementioned comics and books, and of course there’s much to be enjoyed simply in the great cast assembled for these shorts, boasting a Who’s Who of Brit thespians of the period, with a number of Hammer regulars moonlighting here for Amicus (including behind the scenes talent too, such as Asylum’s Roy Ward Backer directing)

Asylum and The House That Dripped blood are both being released on special Limited Edition Blu-Ray by Second Sight Films from July 29th, with a host of extras, including Director’s Commentary, interviews, features (including vintage pieces with some of the cast who are no longer with us), a rigid slipcase with new artwork by Graham Humphreys, a reversible poster and forty-page booklet)

The Kid

The Kid,
Directed by Vincent D’Onofrio
Starring Dane DeHaan, Ethan Hawke, Chris Pratt, Jake Schur, Leila George

A boy with a gun ain’t a boy…

The story of Henry McCarty, better known as William H. Bonney, aka Billy the Kid, has long-since entered legend – really the young outlaw’s life was already half myth and legend even in his short lifetime (he was shot dead at the age of only 21), and he remains one of the most famous figures to come out of that short (but hugely influential in movies, TV and other media ever since) history of the Old West, and his relationship with Pat Garrett, the lawman who hunted him down, and it has been told and retold in many ways over the decades. The Kid takes a more unusual approach, however – you could take the title as a reference to DeHaan’s Billy, but equally it could apply to young Rio (Jake Schur), a teenage boy who, along with his older sister Sara (Leila George), finds himself in the orbit of Billy and Pat (Ethan Hawke).

The film begins with violence, a man beating his wife – Rio and Sara’s mother. Rio begs his brutal father to stop, but he keeps hitting his mother, until the teenage boy picks up his pistol and shoots him dead with it. He’s too late, his monster of a father had already beaten his mother to death. His father’s outlaw friends, headed by their uncle, Grant Cutler (his father’s brother) – a heavily-bearded Chris Pratt, playing against his regular type – are outside the simple homestead, hear the gun go off and try to break in, but the children escape, trying to flee through the night to Santa Fe where they know a friend of their mother lives. It is on this journey that they encounter Billy and his gang, shortly before they are captured by Pat Garrett and his lawmen.

As the story unfolds we see young Rio (named for the river, which Billy once lived near too) struggling with events – he feels he has to be the man of the family, protect his sister even though she is the older, and he is wrestling with his conscience; his father was a brutal abuser, he may well have deserved to be shot, but it’s still no small thing to take a life. This becomes a central issue for Rio, Pat and Billy. Both like the kid (although Garrett doesn’t know what he has done yet, but he suspects), and each of them will, at different points, talk to the boy about their lives, about how early circumstances in a hard life, even younger than he is now, shaped the existence they’ve lead, one outlaw, one lawman.

This is an era and place where men rarely talked about feelings, and the Western in general often sticks to that approach, stories where Real Men suck it in and just carry on without dwelling on what they have had to do. Not so here as both Hawke’s Garrett and DeHaan’s Billy both at different points round a night-time camp fire tell Rio about their youthful hardships and, crucially, about the first time they had to take a life. In both cases they start in a matter of fact way, but as the stories go on, the emotion wells up in their voices. I was reminded of William Munny in the brilliant Unforgiven, “it’s a hell of a thing to kill a man. Take away everything he ever was, everything he ever will be.” Yes, these are tough cowboys of the West, but they are still people and these events that marked them, made them, have had a deep psychological impact that they mostly hide within, but can share with Rio.

This emotional guilt and honesty touches young Rio as he worries about his own culpability in shooting his father. Both men, in their own ways, have reached out to him, bared their own emotional scars that are much like his (the loss of family in early life, the violence, the killing). Rio is, effectively, being given two alternative father figures in Billy and Pat, as he stands at a crossroads of his own life – which kind of path will he follow, one like Billy, or one like Pat? In fact will he get to choose, or will trying to rescue his sister from the monstrous Grant Cutler force him down a path regardless?

It’s unusual these days for us to see a Western – the genre that once dominated early cinema is now a rarity. Thankfully in The Kid we have a beautifully-shot Western that explores hard lives and hard decisions, they way they can shape us, dominate what we will become.

This is a slow-burn tale, with moments of sudden violence, with a rich emotional undercurrent, and some quite gorgeous cinematography. cinematographer Matthew J Lloyd deserves special praise on that score; film is, after all, a visual medium, and the Western requires strong, iconic visuals more than most genres. Here Lloyd’s lighting and camera moves and angles craft some beautiful cinematic scenes, making even some scenes set around the town gallows look striking, or Rio practising with a pistol, framed by a golden-leafed tree, many of the scenes drenched in that marvellous light quality of the American Southwest. That richness of the visuals and the emotional honesty of Rio, Garrett and Billy combine to make this an utterly absorbing take on an Old West legend.

The Kid is released by Lionsgate on DVD, Blu-Ray and Digital from June 3rd

This review was originally penned for Live For Films

Leprechaun Returns

Leprechaun Returns,
Directed by Steven Kostanski,
Starring Taylor Spreitler, Pepi Sonuga, Sai Bennett, Linden Porco, Mark Holton

The original 1993 Leprechaun was a fun piece of horror laced with comedy, very much in the style of this mid 80s to 90s US horror flicks (and it also boasted a pre-Friends mega-fame Jennifer Aniston). Naturally like many other 80s and 90s horror flicks it spawned a franchise with another six outings over the last couple of decades, and like similar franchises (think what happened with Freddy or Jason) it was often a law of diminishing returns. Leprechaun Returns, made for the SyFy Channel, rather wisely appears to be ignoring the many sequels and instead sees our pint-sized folkloric nasty resurrected some twenty-five years after the original movie, even boasting an appearance from Mark Holton as Ozzie from the original 1993 film (a nice touch).

A group of students have decided to set up an eco-friendly sorority house off-campus in the rural farmhouse from the first film, an off-grid house with solar power and drawing water from, yes, you guessed it, the old well where the Leprechaun was supposedly killed and banished, and has been for the last quarter of a century, everything fine. Lila (Taylor Spreitler) is the daughter of Jennifer Aniston’s character from the first film, moving in with her sorority sisters to fix the old place up. She experiences some premonition-like dreams on the way there, but she puts this down to the stress of recently caring for her terminally ill mother, and continues her college plans and moving into the house with the others, unaware that the little, green, mean, rhyming monster has been awoken from his twenty five year slumber (in a pretty gruesome but darkly funny “rebirth” scene).

Lila heard her mother’s stories, but understandably never believed her tales of some murderous leprechaun with a gold fixation and a penchant for bloody killings, and her first encounter with the leprechaun (now played by Linden Porco) she is convinced for the first few moments that she is seeing things, it’s all in her head, stress from caring for her mother in her last days mixed with those stories she never believed in, but it doesn’t take long to realise he’s very real. Her sororoity sisters and a couple of visiting boyfriends, fairly understandably, think their new friend is crazy, but not for long.

This cracks along at a fair old pace, from the set-up and introducing the new characters we get to the rebirth of the leprechaun himself pretty swiftly, which is good as that’s when the fun begins! Bad rhyming and black humour mixes with some inventive blood-letting as the leprechaun decides some killing – and finding his precious gold, of course – will help to regenerate his powers (he has some ‘performance’ issues with his first attempts after his incarceration).

Okay, you know this isn’t Shakespeare, but so too do the film-makers, and Kostanski delivers a decent mix of dark humour (including some nice touches like the leprechaun taking in the changes since he was last above ground, like mobile phones and selfies, or making fun on an electric car) with the gore and deaths (I won’t spoil them by describing any of them – sure, you can see them coming, but that’s part of the fun in this kind of flick), and ignoring the previous sequels and leading right on from events years before in the original is a good move, as are the nice touches linking the new film to its progenitor. Porco seems to be relishing the role, wicked grin through the grotesque make-up as he delivers blood and bad puns and rhymes, and there’s also a small but welcome sub-theme on gender empowerment.

This is a fun popcorn horror flick, and with Lionsgate releasing this in a double-pack with the original 1993 film this is a good Friday night double-bill slice of horror – set up the snacks and drinks and sit back and have some fun!

Submergence

Submergence,
Directed by Wim Wenders,
Starring Alicia Vikander, James McAvoy, Hakeemshady Mohamed, Alexander Siddig

Submergence, based on the novel by J.M Ledgard, has what on paper sounds like a straightforward plot structure – two people, Danielle Flinders (Alicia Vikander), a scientist exploring the deepest parts of the ocean for life, meets James More (James McAvoy), a former Scottish soldier turned water engineer, both taking a break in a beautiful Normandy hotel before their next missions, she off to sea on the research vessel L’Atalante (a nod to the famous film of the same name, I would imagine), and he to Africa for a new water project. After some playful banter the two start to fall for each other, Danny at first reluctant, mostly married to her research, but drawn to James, with what could have been a brief, happy fling flowering into something far deeper. And then they are pulled apart to go their ways, but both now eager to meet once more, to develop their relationship further.

Except that while James did tell Danny he was a former soldier turned engineer, he didn’t tell her that his water engineer life is a cover for spy work for British intelligence, and he’s not going to dig wells in Kenya, but to Somalia, where he is soon taken prisoner by Jihadist terrorists. The film cuts back and forth between James, held prisoner in Africa, and Danny at sea, James clinging to warm memories of her face, her voice, her touch and dreaming of seeing her again, Danny, oblivious to his plight is growing increasingly anxious about not being able to contact him on his phone, their thoughts and dreams cross-connecting the two strands of their stories as they are separated.

As I said, the lovers brought together then pushed apart by fate is a fairly simple narrative device, but veteran director Wenders is not noted for sticking to the plain and simple – I must confess I have a huge admiration for his work such as Paris, Texas, Until the End of the World and, of course, the achingly beautiful Wings of Desire. And I appreciate that he rarely takes the obvious path, although I think perhaps this film is less unusual than many of his other works, in some way more straightforward and accessible to the non-Wenders initiate than some of his earlier films.

It is, unsurprisingly for one of Wenders’ movies, beautifully shot, be it the Normandy coast, the landscapes of Africa, the open ocean or the deepest, darkest places of the vast oceans. Even the prison cell takes on a strange beauty and symbolism – dark save for one shaft of light from a window high, high above, reached by a sloping shaft, it echoes Danny’s descent into the lightless ocean floor, and James finds himself musing about how he too has found himself in his own deep abyss, just like his lover. Orpheus and Eurydice, perhaps, except here it is Orpheus who is lost in the gloom of the Underworld.

I did have some issues with the film though – some of the dialogue felt rather stilted, something that should have been worked out better in rehearsals and editing, I feel, and for such a career-driven person it sometimes felt a little off that Danny becomes so emotionally churned up from not being able to contact James and wondering why he won’t reply to her. But I mostly forgive the film the flaws, because it is, as always with Wenders, a beautiful piece of work to watch, the gorgeous cinematography matched by having two very attractive actors in the lead roles, the music (by Fernando Velazquez) is wonderfully atmospheric, and a luscious compliment to Wenders’ rich visual tapestry. It’s an unusual love story, mixed with elements of the spy thriller, exploration and environmental change, with two gifted and very beautiful stars and luscious cinematography. While not ranking with Wenders’ best, this is still worthy of a couple of hours of your time. And let’s be honest, if you are already a Wenders fan, you know you’re going to have to see it, just because it is by Wenders…

Submergence is available from Lionsgate on digital download from March 4th, and on Blu-Ray and DVD from March 11th