Blu Ray Review: Heavenly Creatures [18]

DIR: Peter Jackson

The Film
Today, Peter Jackson is one of the major names in world cinema, and one of the most commercially and critically successful directors in the world, but it was not always so. In 1994, when Heavenly Creatures came out, Jackson was the mad maverick behind splattery black comedies like Bad Taste, Braindead and his 'Muppets from Hell' movie Meet the Feebles. It was, then, something of a surprise that he should be the filmmaker to tackle one of his native New Zealand's most infamous and shocking murder cases.

Heavenly Creatures tells the story of the intense friendship between fifteen year old Juliet Hulme (Kate Winslet) and Pauline Parker (Melanie Lynskey), which ended up, when the girls were to be separated, in the brutal murder of Pauline's Mother (Sarah Pierse). The girls, from opposite ends of the economic scale, bond over their shared history of medical problems ("All the best people have bad chests and bone diseases") and their creativity. This creativity bleeds into a fantasy world and the girls become increasingly obsessed with and dependent on it and on each other.

In many ways Heavenly Creatures is very different to Peter Jackson's previous films; it's set - largely - in the real world, deals with real people and events and is notably less extreme than the likes of Braindead, but it also shares DNA with those films, and is clearly the product of the same directorial mind. Jackson starts the film, after a shocking opening flash forward, by grounding us in the real world, we get footage from a promotional film for Christchurch, New Zealand, where the film is set, and a rather conventional looking (if beautifully shot) first couple of reels, however, as Juliet and Pauline become closer, and as their shared fantasy world develops further, Jackson allows his camerawork to become more and more extreme. As the film goes on it slips more and more frequently and freely into fantasy, and Jackson, even in the real world, plays up the oddness of his characters visually with offbeat, off centre angle choices. This, however, ceases for the climactic murder, which is rendered in brutal and disturbing detail.

What Jackson achieves by this is not just a film with a very individual feel, but one that draws us into the world and the psyche of its leading characters. The people that Juliet and Pauline dislike are seen almost as caricatures, and are shot in a larger than life way, often looming into frame (see the doctor who diagnoses Pauline as a lesbian, or the priest who comes to see a convalescing Juliet when she's hospitalised with TB), and their fantasies are rendered in stark contrast to the world around them, which is often drab. In the fantasy sequences even dowdy Pauline is transformed into a beautiful princess, colours are sharper and more saturated and everything is heightened.

The film is packed with memorable sequences and images in both the real and the fantasy worlds; an idyllic sequence early in the film in which the girls run through the woods, stripped to their underwear, singing and dancing makes for a sharp contrast with the almost nightmarish (and brilliantly cine literate) scene after they have seen a screening of The Third Man, and find themselves chased by "the most hideous man in the world", Orson Welles.

This contrast between the way the girls see the world as opposed to those around them is also drawn with a set of very strong performances. Sarah Pierse is particularly notable as Honora Parker; a mother who gets angry with her daughter through love and worry. Pauline sees her as the villain, but the film is very matter of fact about her, painting her neither as saint nor sinner and Pierse gives a very grounded performance which makes the march to the end (which, even if you don't know everything from the opening, is explicitly revealed as Pauline and Juliet plan the killing) absolutely bone chilling and deeply sad. The cafe scene at the end of the film (shot in the real location) is a great showcase for both Pierse and Melanie Lynskey, whose exhortation to her Mother to "treat yourself" to the last cream cake takes on a cold menace in context. There are also fine performances from the other actors playing the Hulme and Parker parents; Clive Merrison and Diana Kent as Juliet's upper class Mother and Father and Simon O'Connor as Pauline's fishmonger Father.

In the end though, the film rests on the shoulder of its two young stars, then sixteen (Lynskey) and seventeen (Winslet) and both making their film debut. Both are outstanding. Winslet is, at first glance, perhaps a bit over dramatic, but this is Juliet; she's a person of extremes, everything is either wonderful or ghastly, people are saints (James Mason, Mario Lanza and more) or 'the most hideous man alive' (the aforementioned Orson Welles), and her stories are packed with beautiful kings and queens, psychotic children and gorgeous gypsy girls. She's a drama queen, and Winslet plays that side of her perfectly. This - along with her distant relationship with her parents - also gives us an insight into why Juliet, clearly much more intelligent than Pauline, forms such an obsessive attachment to her young friend. Melanie Lynskey is also brilliant here. Her performance got less notice than Winslet's and, seventeen years later, she remains an undervalued talent. This is probably because Pauline, outside of her diary entries (all of which are real, and brilliantly read by Lynskey), she is a much more held in character. It's tough to understand a relationship like this, and a character like Pauline, but Lynskey plays her, seemingly without judgement, as just one more troubled, taciturn, teenager. By taking that starting point and moving the character credibly on through this growing obsession we get to understand how things end up as they do, because we see how Pauline, in contrast to the very open and expressive Juliet, holds her resentment in a tight ball until it explodes. These are two very contrasting and equally excellent performances.

I first saw Heavenly Creatures about fifteen years ago, and it has a special place in my heart. It was one of the first films that really interested me in cinema that was more offbeat and made beyond the US, and it was one of the first films that me and my best friend bonded over (yes, I realise that sounds odd, but honestly we're perfectly normal). For my money it remains as brilliant now as it ever was, it stands out in the distinguished filmographies of both Jackson and Winslet, and is a fascinating film about obsession and about murder. This, amazingly, is its first DVD release in the UK, and I'm really happy that a new generation of cinephiles, who may not have seen any of Jackson's pre Lord of the Rings work will now, at last, get a chance to discover this masterpiece.


The Disc

I received a screener copy of Heavenly Creatures, which did not include the extras. The release copy will boast a 'Looking Back' featurette with Kim Newman, Alan Jones and Rosie Fletcher and four postcards. I can't help but wish there was more; a Jackson commentary, a proper retrospective with the cast and the alternate cut, which is ten minutes or so longer, would all have been welcome.

That said, what we do have is a beautiful looking Blu Ray transfer. The film has been remastered, and looks like it was shot yesterday; the print has some grain structure, but is free of speckles and damage. The edges are sharp without seeming over enhanced, the colours pop brilliantly and there is a good deal of depth in the image (which is also, for the first time in the UK, in the film's original 2.35:1 ratio). This transfer perhaps doesn't have the jaw dropping appearance of a Terminator 2 or the 'wow, look how nicely that cleaned up' impact of some of Arrow's video nasty releases, but it's still a great job, and as good as this film is ever likely to look.


Thanks to Peccadillo Pictures and Rabbit Publicity for the screener. Heavenly Creatures comes to UK DVD and Blu Ray on September 12th.

If you'd like to buy Heavenly Creatures (and trust me, you would) and help 24FPS out at the same time then please use the links below. Thanks.

DVD Review: The Kingdom II [18]

This review is by Contributing editor and E-Film Blog head honcho Michael Ewins

As an example of what to expect, The Kingdom II has a scene where Udo Kier, playing a deformed baby (easily approaching 10-ft, his elongated arms and legs grotesquely juxtapose with his bulging torso) attempts to strangle his real-life previous self. I should make things clearer: this previous Kier is actually a spirit, a reincarnation of Åge Krüger (I can't say who he is, it'll spoil Series One), who later sprouts devil horns. Is he Satan? Who knows, but hopefully I've painted a picture of The Kingdom II which fairly represents how utterly off-the-boil it is. Yes, Lars von Trier's cult series has gone completely mad, and turns out to be all the better for it...

There's a markedly different tone to The Kingdom II which fans of the first series might find disappointing. Series One was a full-on ghost story, dedicated to the eerie and occult, and it took time to build up an atmosphere of dread. It was basically four hours of character development, and I actually found the experience quite depressing. But those who found the first series overly sincere and boring (which, in fairness, will be many) will find a lot to embrace in Kingdom II, which develops the subtle streak of dark humour present in Series One and brings it to the forefront; indeed, against all expectations, Series Two is hilarious.

It's hard to talk about this change in tone without ruining any of the surprises, of which there are many, so let me give you some sample dialogue: "their pubic hair was dramatic", and, "I desire to become a duck, only a duck, nothing but a duck." Yes, and those are two of the saner moments, as we also have Dr. Moesgaard (Holger Juul Hansen) joining an alternative psychotherapy group hiding in The Kingdom's basement, whose leader seems to be as mad as anyone else. Hansen is hysterical in the part, kind of like the Danish Leslie Nielsen, dryly reacting to all the silliness occurring around him, seemingly a normal man suffering a deadpan breakdown in the midst of supernatural insanity.

Ernst-Hugo Järegård also returns as Dr. Helmer, still desperately trying to recover the information of the Mona case and also dealing with Hook's (Søren Pilmark) zombification, which leads to all sorts of comic evil (this isn't a spoiler by the way, it happens very early on). His stone-faced frustration and blunt hatred is still dramatically complex and oddly funny, and certainly in this series his character is played more for laughs, put into increasingly baffling situations, and his final hours - involving a mad-dash attempt to cover his tracks once and for all - is a real treat. I can't emphasize enough how welcome the humour is here; it also helps pick up the pace, which is a good thing for this terminally protracted series.

The Kingdom II feels much more confident than its predecessor and its audacity, while sometimes infuriating, makes for compellingly strange viewing. von Trier's tongue is firmer in cheek than ever, turning up as he does for a speech at each episode's end to slyly dig at the audience's expectations - at the end of the third episode he turns up holding a liver, and I'm again allowed to question how seriously anyone is taking the events of The Kingdom Hospital, which seems to be falling (literally) into the bowels of Hell itself.

A third series of The Kingdom was planned but sadly Järegård passed away in 1998 before production could begin. von Trier subsequently pursued his film career and during that time Kirsten Rolffes (who played Mrs. Drusse) and Morten Rotne Leffers (who played the male Down's Syndrome dishwasher) have also died, making the possibility of a third series now, fourteen years on, almost certainly impossible. It's a shame too, because the series' cliffhanger is one of its funniest and most thrilling moments, and a pure example of von Trier's individual genius, bound to antagonize but never to be forgotten...

The Disc/Extras
I discussed the muddy, sepia-inflected aesthetic in my Series One review, and that's back here, so it's hard to really subjectively comment on the transfer, which perfectly translates how von Trier and co. wanted the series to look, even if it that does mean it’s quite ugly. The visuals match the tone of the series perfectly though, and I know the aesthetic won't be for everyone, but the series has been handled with care, and it looks exactly how it should.

Extras are pretty solid actually, and about as quirky as you'd expect from The Kingdom. There's selected scene commentary, which is always fun, but most impressive are the featurettes, including your basic Making Of, 'In Lars von Trier's Kingdom', but most enjoyable is a 52-minute documentary called 'Tranceformer - A Portrait Of Lars von Trier', which even has the director providing commentary on his earliest experimental films, made when he was 10-years-old. A solid package.

If you'd like to buy the complete boxset of Series 1 and 2 of The Kingdom, and help 24FPS out at the same time, please use the link below. Thanks.

DVD Review: The Kingdom: Series 1 [18]

This review is by Contributing editor and E-Film Blog head honcho Michael Ewins

Have you ever wondered what happens to the patients in TV hospitals? If shows like Casualty, Scrubs and E.R. are to be believed then hospitals are places where doctors, surgeons and nurses hang out for quirky meet-cutes and primetime melodramatics, and patients are merely a day-to-day obstacle. I doubt that these are fair representations of hospital life, or are even trying to be, but those wondering about the patients in The Kingdom, Lars von Trier's cult series which ran for two seasons between 1994 - 1997, will find enough bloody mayhem to wish they'd never asked...

Right off the bat I'll make one thing clear: it's a difficult watch. Not just because the series is terminally protracted, thoroughly complex and deeply depressing, but also because of the muddied, sepia-inflected aesthetic which looks like it's been dug up from an Argentinean archive (bonus points if you get the reference). Fans of von Trier will be instantly at home with the look of the series, as it falls somewhere between The Element Of Crime (1984) and Idioterne (1998), recalling Tarkovsky as much as it does a series of home videos created by the characters in Harmony Korine's Trash Humpers (2009). The aesthetic does serve a specific purpose though, in that it adds a level of realism to the increasingly disturbing events, and enhances the dread-soaked atmosphere. For those unacquainted with the Danish provocateur, however, it may just feel like drudging through deathly treacle, and its ugliness will be off-putting.

Each episode opens on a wooden plaque reading 'THE KINGDOM', before a torrent of blood breaks through and gushes toward the screen, recalling that classic elevator scene in Kubrick's The Shining (1980). From here we explode into a none-more-90's title sequence which is about as tongue-in-cheek as the epilogue to each episode, delivered by a suited von Trier who can't decide whether to be devilishly sly or annoyingly condescending. Either way these moments always end with von Trier asking us to return to The Kingdom, where we'll need to take "the Good with the Evil", and instantly we question how seriously anyone is taking this story.

Ah, the story. It's far too complicated to fully synopsize here, but I'll give it a go. Each episode begins with a beautiful prologue detailing how The Kingdom hospital came to be built on the site of "bleaching ponds" - we always end on the same shot of hands rising from the damp ground, as if to suggest the reawakening of dead souls. Head neurosurgeon Stig Helmer (Ernst-Hugo Järegård) has recently been re-appointed to The Kingdom from a position he held in Sweden, and his plot arc follows the repercussions of a failed operation on a girl named Mona, who has become disabled from a mysterious error which he wants to keep hidden. While he clashes with the hospital staff and is inducted into the hospital's mysterious cult, The Brotherhood, a spiritual woman named Sigrid Drusse (Kirsten Rolffes) is admitted to the ward. She's not really ill, but senses the spirit of a restless young girl in the hospital, whose fate may have been murderous. Perhaps the best way of summarizing the show is to describe it as the Danish Twin Peaks, for there are great tonal similarities.

If you invest in The Kingdom from the beginning then you'll be richly rewarded. Series One consists of four episodes, totalling 300 minutes, and three-quarters of that time is dedicated to character development. The pace is incredibly slow but I appreciated the time von Trier allowed us with each character, and you'll be glad for it too by the time the final half hour rolls around, which is absolutely off-the-rails bonkers and demands a certain level of sacrifice by the viewer. What allows you to make this sacrifice is the quality of the writing and acting. Every character is fully rounded and given an engaging mystery, and you'll always be questioning their motives, which gives every scene a certain level of unpredictability. There's also a great deal of variety to each episode as it flits between austere drama and full-on horror, with the majority of time spent in dank corridors, misty locales and elevator shafts.

But what I loved most of all, perhaps, was the show's sense of humour. von Trier has always been an antic-loving provocateur, as proven by the orgy scene in Idioterne and the talking fox in Antichrist (2009). The Kingdom has an incredibly subtle streak of dark humour, which is best personified by an on-going gag about a missing head, and certainly its owner is warped to the point of uncomfortable hilarity. von Trier also makes a peculiar leap into full-on sitcom for the show's finale, as a tour of the hospital turns into a demented set-piece which has to be seen to be believed, and could only involve Udo Kier. I don't quite know what to make of it, but I know I can't wait for Series Two.

All extras will be reviewed along with Series Two.

If you'd like to buy the complete boxset of Series 1 and 2 of The Kingdom, and help 24FPS out at the same time, please use the link below. Thanks.

DVD review: Lake Mungo [15]

DIR: Joel Anderson

THE FILM
At first glance, Lake Mungo looks to be just one more in the recent glut of found footage horror films, specifically a close cousin to Paranormal Activity (though the two films were made at roughly the same time). However, as the film's 87 minutes tick by, something a bit different, and altogether more interesting, reveals itself.

In 2005 in the small Australian town of Ararat, Alice Palmer (Talia Zucker) drowns while swimming at the local dam. After her death her parents (Rosie Traynor, David Pledger) and her brother (Martin Sharpe) begin to sense a presence in the house, and see what appears to be Alice's ghost in photographs and video footage they have taken. This leads them to look deeper into the circumstances of the time surrounding Alice's death, and they discover some disturbing things.

Writer/director Joel Anderson makes a creditable debut here, crafting a film that is convincing in its documentary construction, from the use of interviews and found footage, down to the occasional creepy recreated shot illustrating a piece of expository dialogue, the whole film feels very much like a modern documentary. Where it really convinces though is with the acting. The perennial problem of the mock doc is that many fall into the trap of feeling acted. Lake Mungo never does. I'm not sure whether Anderson had his cast improvise their dialogue from his guidance, but however he achieved there is a tremendous sense of reality in these performances. The Palmer family feels like a family, they all react differently, but convincingly, to their grief and everything they say in the interviews feels like they are relating a story they lived through, and re-experiencing the emotions. This is true from top to bottom of the cast list, there's not a weak link here.

Anderson doesn't go for empty style here, but his shots are well designed, always preserving the verisimilitude of the film, but also creeping you out at the pivotal moments. The images of a ghostly Alice are haunting, and the grainy nature and slowly revealed complexity of them allows Anderson to draw you in to every frame, studying, hunting the clues. Some may not warm to the film's slow burn pace, but for me it worked perfectly (certainly this is a much better paced film than Paranormal Activity, and its 80 minutes waiting/30 seconds payoff ratio). Lake Mungo doles out small revelations on a regular basis, and always manages to surprise us by dwelling in the details (the ones you'll miss first time round). Ultimately it takes us briefly down several different roads regarding what, exactly, happened to Alice, and there is a refreshing openness to the ending, a sense that posing questions and positing ideas is enough, that the answers are what we make them.

Lake Mungo makes for an interesting companion piece to the more visceral horror films that have lately been coming from Australia. This creepy little film may not be for gorehounds, but it sneaks up and gets under your skin. I also suspect that it will reward multiple viewings, as you challenge yourself to see things before they are revealed, and perhaps to divine the truth of what happened to Alice. This comes highly recommended.


THE UK DVD
The picture quality is as good as you could hope for, given the mix of sources. There is film footage here, camcorder footage, degraded video and mobile phone footage, all of it is appropriately rendered and in the professional looking material colours, blacks and edges all hold up.

Unfortunately there are no extras on the DVD and, in an inexcusable oversight, my copy lacked any sort of subtitles. In this day and age not subtitling dialogue so deaf film lovers can enjoy your film is unforgivable. If you can hear though, this is a decent disc if you can get it for a good price.


If you would like to buy the film (UK release July 25th), and help out 24FPS at the same time, please use the links below. Thanks.


Thanks to Debbie at DDA for the screener.

DVD Review: Szindbád [15]

DIR: Zoltán Huszárik

THE FILM
Made in Hungary in 1971, Szindbád is quite a late contribution to Eastern Europe's surrealist movement, which was peopled largely by artist rebelling against conformist communist societies. I wonder if, if I knew more about Hungarian politics, the context of this film, and exactly what Zoltán Huszárik felt in relation to it, I would have liked Szindbád more, but while I'm sure there are layers here that I am not getting, and I'm equally sure that that undermines my enjoyment of the film, that's not to say that there aren't things to recommend here.

Szindbád is a visual marvel. It's essential that the film be beautiful, because its eponymous central character - who seems to be an aristocrat of some sort, but not to have any settled job or residence - is clearly captivated by beauty, and particularly by the beauty of nature. This natural beauty is the film's focus, it is a sensual film, it delights in nature (the near microscopically close up shots of flora and fauna put me in mind of certain sequences in I Am Love), in food and perhaps most notably in women. As far as it has any structure, the film is a dossier of memories of the various beautiful women who have drifted through Szindbád's life. Huszárik, and by extension Szindbád, see beauty in women old an young, from every class and of diverse appearence. There is relatively little nudity, and no sex to speak of, but the film is in thrall to the beauty of women, and Huszárik's soft lighting and his focus on detail in all things (be it a flowers petal, chilli seeds in soup or a woman's breast) draws us into a sensual experience.

For me, Szindbád felt like a series of beautiful digressions, but the frustration of it is that I'm not sure that it is anything more than that. This is a surrealist work, so going in expecting a traditional narrative would be foolish, but Szindbád gives us very little to hang on to. Szindbád himself (Zoltán Latinovits) is so studiedly unemotional - he tells us that the secret of his success with women is not telling them that he loves them - that he always remains distant, and he's so prone to spouting pretentious (and largely irrelevant) philosophies that he's often a chore to follow. None of the women are really around long enough to develop any character, and there is no sense of even the most subtle narrative through line (even films like Valerie and Her Week of Wonders have a central thread, which is then disrupted by the surrealist telling). Engagement is further complicated by a timeline which seems to skip back and forward through time, without giving us any clue to - or real reason to care about - chronology. What I was left with was a film I admire a great deal for its visual splendour, but the frustrating feeling that I'm going to need to do some serious reading to understand it enough to truly appreciate it.

Szindbád is hard work, but right from the start it is rewarding, because it is so beautifully shot and edited (the combination of very fast cutting with other scenes that unfold in long held shots is striking and means that the film always remains visually unpredictable). I'd like to be able to recommend it in more glowing terms. This one is probably for long standing fans and students of surrealist cinema, as a starting point I'd suggest Valerie, or some Bunuel, but if you are already interested in the movement then I suspect that Szindbád will delight and fascinate you.


THE DVD
To begin with, as ever with Second Run, the simple but clean and beautiful cover art bears mentioning, as it conveys the look of the film well without betraying the content.

Szindbád is a 40 year old film which has been out of circulation for a long time, and while there are a few scratches here and the on the print none are bad, and they never interfere with what is a remarkable DVD presentation. The images are rich in colour and detail, skin tones seem accurate and there are no compression or combing issues to be found. The age of the film means it's not reference quality, but it is, nevertheless, an admirable and often remarkable transfer.


THE EXTRAS
There is only one extra on the DVD, a 12 minute 'appreciation' in which Katalin Varga director Peter Strickland talks about his love of the film. It's interesting, but my preference is always to make my own interpretation of a film.

Also provided is a booklet with a lengthy contextualising article on the film by critic Michael Brooke. It's pretty academic, but the historical background might prove useful when revisitng the film.

Overall this is another fine package from Second Run, and continues their admirable track record discovering and exposing films that would otherwise remain lost to us.

DVD Review: Sea Purple [15]

DIR: Donatella Maiorca

I wonder just how closely Sea Purple (an unwieldy title, explained only in a caption just before the end credits) is inspired by a true story. Certainly its main character seems to be based on a real person, and the central conceit seems to be true, but I would be surprised if some of the peripheral details are true.

The film is set in the mid to late 1800's and is about Angela (Valeria Solarino), whose childhood friend Sara (Isabella Ragonese) returns to their small Island off the Italian coast after a fifteen year absence. Soon after Sara returns, Angela confesses her love for her old friend, who reciprocates. Angela's Father (Ennio Fantastichini) wants her to marry a local boy, but Angela refuses, and tells him she loves Sara. In order to allow her daughter to live how she wants, Angela's Mother (Giselda Volodi) convinces the local priest that there was a mistake when Angela was born, and Angela returns to the village, as her Father's son Angelo.

Sea Purple is a beautiful film. There likely wasn't a great challenge involved in making it look good; the scenery is stunning and frankly so are the cast - to a fault actually, the otherwise excellent Solarino coming a little unstuck in the 'looking like a boy' stakes - but director Donatella Maiorca also deserves credit for finding some striking shots (Angela's Father, rendered as a silhouetted monster, as he beats her) and for exploiting the natural beauty of the film's environments and of her cast quite so effectively. Maiorca also draws strong performances from her leads. Though there is little setup provided by the screenplay for the devotion that Angela and Sara have to one another, Solarino and Ragonese sell the relationship at both an emotional and a physical level. There is also an excellent supporting performance from Giselda Volodi, as Angela's Mother, in limited screentime Volodi gives a rounded portrait of a woman long cowed by her husband, coming out of her shell when her daughter needs her most. Unfortunately the same can't be said for Angela's Father, who is written and played as a cartoon bastard.

The strength of most of the performances and the visually arresting quality of the film allows Sea Purple to hold the attention despite its other problems. The script, as mentioned above, often feels a little thin, and Angela and Sara's relationship in particular could do with a few more conversational scenes to really solidify it. More problematic is the fact that much of what happens after Angela becomes Angelo doesn't feel all that believeable; the way that the village only quietly bristles about her marriage to Sara, and that there is little in the way of confrontation for the couple to deal with (actually this is true throughout, despite the amount of time they spend making out in broad daylight in island beauty spots). None of this really seems to fit with what you'd expect in an insular, religious, island community in the 19th century. There is also the problem of Angela's Father, who is basically a caricature of a misogynist (and, in keeping with the film's contemporary resonance about gay marriage and conservative opposition to it, which is largely subtly advanced, he says "remember, I only care about myself". That line may as well be replaced with him waving a sign saying 'contemporary right wing bastard').

The last major issue with the film is its score, which is far too contemporary (electric guitars, really?) and used in a manner best described as instructional, especially in the scenes that have Angela's Father being abusive to his family. For the most part the film doesn't need this coating of aural schmaltz / menace, because Maicora and her actors are doing their jobs effectively and communicating to us exactly how we should be feeling.

Sea Purple may be flawed, but there is a lot going on in it, the contemporary resonance is subtle but strongly felt, the performances are largely strong and the story itself is both different and interesting. It's not entirely satisfying, but it has plenty to recommend it, not least Valeria Solarino and Isabella Ragonese.


Sea Purple comes to DVD, from Peccadillo Pictures, on June 20th. The DVD will also include a making of feature and some deleted scenes (not supplied on my check disc). If you'd like to buy the film, and help 24FPS out at the same time then please use the link below. Thanks.

DVD Review: The OWLS / Hooters

The OWLS
DIR: Cheryl Dunye

Cheryl Dunye is a legitimately groundbreaking filmmaker, in 1996 her first feature The Watermelon Woman made history by its very existence; it was the first film directed by a black lesbian. In the intervening fifteen years she's been quite quiet, her only subsequent feature being 2004 Eddie Griffin comedy My Baby's Daddy, which she didn't even have a hand in writing. The OWLS (it stands for Older Wiser Lesbians) is clearly a much more personal work, and an effort to break new ground as she did with her first film, but at just 66 minutes this 'lesbain noir' still finds plenty of time to stumble.

There is a thread that runs through the film, a mystery surrounding the death of a minor character named Cricket, and I wished that that had been much more of the movie, because for all its faults – largely a flatness to the bulk of the performances - it's the story driven idea that I'm interested in here.

Unfortunately this digressive film never seems to make up its mind what it is, there's the noir story, there are the intertwined relationships of the central characters (most of whom used to be in a band together, which sadly we never see or hear) and then there are the pieces to camera. This is a truly bizzare addition to the film. Dunye frequently cuts to interview footage, some of it in character, some of it not (there is also a moment where this seems blurred, Dunye using the real name of another player while I had thought she was in character, it is to the film's massive discredit that I can't tell whether this was intentional). During the out of character interviews, and especially during the film's closing credits, this seems to be a manifesto for lesbian filmmakers, which isn't a bad thing in and of itself, but honestly, would it hurt to decide which film to make?

There are some good moments though, Guinevere Turner puts in a typically charismatic performance, and VS Brodie (though her character is underdeveloped) also transcends the dramatic flatness on display, while Dunye does find a few interesting images. However, The OWLS is inconsistent at best, pretentious at worst and schizophrenic overall.


Hooters
DIR: Anna Margarita Albelo

Hooters, which chronicles the workshopping and making of The OWLS, is a considerably more interesting film than the one it is about. From time to time the director Anna Margaria Albelo really imposes herself on the film and this can, especially in the terrible opening credits sequence, be achingly pretentious and extremely annoying, however, for the most part this a pretty straightforward filmmaking documentary, and though it's not the best of its kind the process it chronicles is unusual enough to intrigue.

What's really interesting about Hooters is the way that it manages (perhaps without wanting to) to illuminate why The OWLS doesn't work. It covers a fractious workshopping process , in which the whole cast and crew are encouraged to put ideas into the script, leading screenwriter Guinevere Turner to become very frustrated and confess that she wished they'd let people give ideas, then let her, or some other single voice, write it rather than create this patchwork (she's right too, much of the final script is banal, and it feels very disjointed). It's also interesting to see the political and generational arguments – largely between the equally forceful and charismatic Guinevere Turner and Deak Evgenikos - that arise in this process (again much more so than when these ideas are shoehorned into The OWLS), even though, as a straight man, I stand rather outside the debates being had here.

Hooters is also good on the process of shooting, and by involving itself with the whole crew, rather than turning the focus on Dunye, gets a more intimate, and more critical, view of the process than is typical. Again problems with the collective model raise their head, with actress (and a director herself) Lisa Gornick, raising objections to Dunye's direction, and there seems to be a lot of stalling during the miniscule five day shoot.

Hooters does sometimes get sidetracked by politics - and once by asking the crew what kind of underwear they are currently wearing; Guinevere Turner's idea – but on the whole it's a pretty interesting film. To me it plays more like a how NOT to for filmmakers than anything else, and exposes why Dunye's model produced a pretty bad film, but that's actually more interesting than if it had shown things going swimmingly. Certainly this is the part of this DVD double bill that I'd recommend you check out.

If you would like to buy The OWLS and Hooters, and help 24FPS out at the same time, please use the link below. Thanks.

DVD Review: My Friend From Faro [15]

DIR: Nana Neul

The Film
Though it's hardly mainstream, the lesbian coming of age movie has, in recent years, become a familiar part of the cinematic landscape, and as such it has laid down many of its own standard forms and clichés, so you have to credit début writer/director Nana Neul for trying to do something at least a little different from the usual coming out story.

The film centres on closeted tomboy Melanie (Anjorka Strechel), who meets Jenny (Lucie Hollmann) after almost running her over. Jenny assumes that Mel is a boy, and Mel, attracted, plays along, claiming to be from Portugal and named Miguel. At the same time, challenged to bring her new boyfriend; Miguel, from Portugal, to a family dinner, Mel hires a co-worker (Manuel Cortez) to pose as Miguel. You can pretty much guess that these lies lead to a lot of confusion and heartache for all concerned.

The obvious touchstone for My Friend From Faro is Boys Don't Cry, or rather the real story of Teena Brandon before the events of that film. Like Brandon, Melanie poses as a boy in order to seduce a straight girl, but in this fictional context it is harder to sympathise with Melanie. The main reason is that we know throughout that Jenny is 14, and though she's told Melanie that she's 16, she looks and seems very much younger, which gives a creepy vibe to the relationship (compounded both by the deception it is built on and by a late revelation about Melanie's age). While it's easy to understand why Melanie lies to Jenny, it's harder to see why she lies to her family and invents a fictional boyfriend, there doesn't seem to be any pressure on her to be 'normal', at least not beyond the fact that they assume she's straight, and while the scenes with Melanie's family are well played, there is little inherent drama to them, as there seem to be no stakes.

On the plus side, the performances are uniformly good, with leads Strechel - who convinces physically as an androgynous figure who could be taken for a handsome young man - and Hollmann both committed and impressive, as hard as it is to really invest in their relationship, you do believe their investment in it. There is also a quickly built but convincing brother/sister relationship between Strechel and Florian Panzner, and an appealing performance from Manuel Cortez as Mel's Portugese co-worker/fictional boyfriend.

Beyond a creative title sequence, Nana Neul doesn't do anything flashy as a director. She keeps the focus largely on her actors, and is served well by their performances. She does, however, develop a few subtle things with her blocking and visuals, notably a close relationship between Jenny and her friend Bianca, which seems to hint at a deeper desire on Bianca's part. There are only a couple of really active scenes in the film, and Neul fumbles both. The car crash and a chase towards the end of the film both play almost completely in reactions, and feel slipshod in terms of both shooting and editing, but at the end of the day these are small problems, and the film's focus is on relationships and conversation, which are well handled by the director.

On the whole, My Friend From Faro is a mixed bag; it's well performed, but hard to connect to, and despite its undoubted qualities and several very good scenes (the family dinner with Melanie's fake boyfriend; Jenny, Bianca and Melanie's night out and Jenny and Melanie's date at the beach all stand out), it ends up feeling a bit inconsequential, especially as it ends on a very open note, but one that doesn't - unlike, say, the ending of Fucking Amal - leave you anxious to know what happened after that last cut to black. There are good things here, and I'll be keeping an eye on both Anjorka Strechel and Lucie Hollmann, but My Friend From Faro doesn't quite come together.

My Friend From Faro is released in the UK on May 16th by Peccadillo Pictures. If you want to order the DVD, and help out 24FPS at the same time, please use the link below.

DVD Review: Mamma Roma [15]

DIR: Pier Paolo Pasolini

The Film
Mamma Roma, played by Anna Magnani, is a middle-aged whore in the capital city of Rome. Her pimp Carmine (Franco Citti), upon his marriage to a nice city girl, releases Roma and she tracks down her 16-year-old son Ettore (Ettore Garofolo), who has been living in the country. She moves the naïve youth to the city and tries to find him a solid job, all the while working on a fruit stall of her own.

Edward Guthmann of the San Francisco Chronicle described Magnani as "erupting with lust, laughter and carnivorous pleasure." If by that he meant that she was an exuberantly annoying scenery chewer then I'd say he's spot-on, but I think his statement is a complimentary one. Magnani is certainly a required taste in terms of screen presence and performance style (she magnetizes the frame) but I find her cackling rather grating and unbelievably OTT. Her joy for life seems a little bipolar to say the least, and her forced laugh is like the combined sound of a screeching chalkboard and an exploding helium balloon; the overplayed guffaws seeming more at home in a comic strip than a gritty drama. And considering that she's the main character in Mamma Roma, the second feature by Italian filmmaker Pier Paolo Pasolini (who was murdered in 1975), you may understand why my patience was often tested...

But the film certainly isn't without merit. Pasolini - even if he never really grew as a filmmaker - certainly has an artists eye, and casts a gentle yet dark beauty over his doomed characters. The DP is Tonino Delli Colli, the master lensman who also shot films for Sergio Leone and Roman Polanski. He shades the film beautifully and pays real attention to the landscape; Rome under the cover of night takes on a more haunted tone than the optimistic city of the daytime, where the sun radiates over friendly fields. One scene sees Roma walking through the streets at night telling stories to strangers; men pick up and leave off on her narrative path, one by one joining and departing the story of her life. The continuous shot embraces the darkness of the night and isolates the characters from their surroundings - it's as if they're on a path to nowhere. There is some genuinely dazzling direction in the film, not least in the stunning ending which packs so much power you wonder why the rest of the film is quite so dull.

There are other interesting aspects to the film, most notably the religious symbology and recreations of Christian art - at Carmine's wedding the reception table is a direct recreation of da Vinci's 'Last Supper'. Faith is writ large over the characters in Mamma Roma, especially as we spiral, inevitably, towards the tragic denouement where Pasolini evokes Andrea Mantegna's (an Italian renaissance painter who specialized in religious imagery) 'Lamentation Over The Dead Christ'. Perhaps the combination of class and religion form the backbone of Pasolini's vision for Mamma Roma, and certainly religion reappears in some of his later work; he was, by the way, an atheist. In regards to class, Pasolini was also a member of the Communist Party from 1947 to 1949, but was expelled due to his homosexuality.

Mamma Roma is a sporadically engaging picture but mostly I just didn't care about the characters. Magnani portrays Mamma as a street-smart schemer, but even her mellower moments (of which there are many, in fairness) aren't interesting. Her name seems to hint toward the idea of the nightwalker being the heart of Rome - the upper class may look down on her but in many ways Mamma is the truth of the city; its underground cog which keep the whole working. Sadly there's very little steam behind that idea, save for a scene involving fellow prostitute Biancofiore (Luisa Loiano), whose laugh is just as disturbingly medicated as Roma's, where they use their profession to scheme against a rich businessman. There's really not much chance of rooting for Ettore either - Garofolo portrays him as such a drip that it can be hard to read what emotion he's feeling at any one time.

It may be a technically impressive film but there's little else to recommend Mamma Roma for. Pasolini was an acclaimed poet and artist as well as a filmmaker, and certainly his later work suggests evidence that his three trades often slipped into one, but there's none of that here. There are beautiful images, some smooth camerawork and a neat pace courtesy of editor Nino Baragli, but that's not enough to carry the film. At the Italian premiere in 1962 Pasolini was attacked by protesting fascists who had taken against the picture. Their reasons were political, but I just find myself wishing I could have been that impassioned - positively or negatively - toward a film which is ultimately disappointingly average.

The Disc/Extras
The remastering job is amazing and in terms of photography Mamma Roma doesn't seem to have aged a day. The image is sharp and quite beautiful with very little grain at all. It's so sad that these releases don't have any extras though; not even a trailer.

DVD Review: The Grim Reaper [15]

DIR: Bernardo Bertolucci

The Film
Based on a story and co-scripted by Pier Paolo Pasolini (the genuis filmmaker behind Accatone, 1961, Pigsty, 1969 and Salò, 1975), Bertolucci's feature debut recalls Rashômon (Kurosawa, 1951) in its concept, but its execution is distinctly within the oeuvre of the emerging auteur who would one day give us Il Conformista (1970), a politically driven masterpiece about friendly assassination. This film opens on a bridge overlooking the Tiber river. We are in Rome, and a prostitute is dead. Her body lies in a park by the river. Who killed her? That's the question addressed by a series of multiple-perspective vignettes in The Grim Reaper. The narrative is told from the point of view of several suspects, all of whom were in the park on the night of her death. One of them is the killer. It's more than just a real life game of Cluedo, however, as the film is geared more towards the personal relationships of the accused.

The title couldn't be more apt. Death is a stark shadow inhabited by every narrator in The Grim Reaper; they are accused of its untimely arrival on a young whore and now each must prove their innocence. The film spends approximately ten minutes with each suspect, detailing the events of their day up until that fateful nightfall. The day, despite containing several different stories, has two recurring certainties: it will rain, and we will see the prostitute preparing for her work. It's interesting that Bertolucci makes the decision to break from traditional flashback convention and intervene in the narrative by showing us the prostitute assembling herself. These segments don't belong to any of the suspects; they belong to the filmmaker. Perhaps he wishes for us to see that despite the unreliability of these stories her life is a constant and has one path. She, like the rain, is now just a moment in time.

The DoP for this picture is Giovanni Narzisi, and his work is truly beautiful. The Grim Reaper is not perfect (Bertolucci was never one for tightly constructed narratives, but most have more momentum and fluidity than this) but it is well choreographed and engaging; the camerawork is smooth and adventurous, and the architecture of the city backdrop wonderfully diverse. Bertolucci was only 21 when he made the picture so it's guaranteed that he had a guiding inspiration. Pasolini is the obvious influence, as Bertolucci trained under him and served as production assistant on Accatone. But I also think it's fair to flag up Bertolucci's father, Attilio, who was a major Italian poet and teacher of art history. From what I've read of his work Attilio seems profoundly concerned with the proto-state of emotion and nature, by which I mean he is unpretentious in his passion for life, love and death. He's in touch with instinct and the ethereal, an accolade with which I would also credit his son, who made some visually ravishing and sexually vehement pictures. I'll recite a line from Attilio's poem Let Me Bleed, from the best translation I can find; Leave me bleeding on the road sull'antipolvere the dust on the grass, heart throbbing in his working rhythm. It reminded me of The Grim Reaper, and the prostitute whose life represents the beginning of a multi-faceted investigation into the lives of others.

Because that's what the film is more than anything; an essay on perspective. We never see the face of the cop interviewing the suspects but we are given the privilege of observing contradictions in the testimonies that each narrator builds as their defense. Bertolucci shows us the truth and the lie, juxtaposed, with the voiceover (used sparingly and effectively) providing a slightly different slant on reality that serves to paint the suspect in a fairer light. It seems that The Grim Reaper is more concerned with examining the mystery rather than solving it, and that may be where the lack of momentum arises from - although extended tracking shots in each segment give them rhythm and continuity. It's just that there's no real urgency to the film and it ultimately feels like a stepping stone for Bertolucci. But as a debut feature it's surprisingly confident and frequently engaging; technically accomplished and heralding great things to come.

The Disc/Extras
The image actually looks very sharp on DVD. The remastering job has left hardly any grain; the photography is best served, as it looks crisp and detailed. It's a sadly vanilla package though - the only extra is a trailer.

If you'd like to pre-order a copy of this film, released on UK DVD on April 25th, and help out 24FPS at the same time, please use the link below. Thanks.

Blu Ray Review: The Beyond [18]

DIR: Lucio Fulci

The Film
The Beyond is the third of Lucio Fulci's four zombie films, which have become the most popular and enduring films on what is an extensive and wide ranging CV. While his previous film, The City of the Living Dead, had strayed somewhat into the surreal (notably with that infamously abrupt ending), The Beyond sees Fulci step into a world that never seems less than dreamlike, and blur the bounds of real and surreal and the leading character's sanity or madness, throughout.

The story is notably difficult to get a handle on, but in basic terms it concerns Liza (played by Catriona MacColl, in the second of her three films for Fulci), who has inherited a hotel in New Orleans, but as she's doing it up discovers that legend says it is built over one of the seven gates to Hell and that when that gate opens - as it appears to have done - the dead will walk the Earth. It's a loose tale, and just about provides a framework for MacColl and David Warbeck (as the local doctor who comes to Liza's aid) to be menaced by some of make up artist Gianetto DiRossi's nastier creations. However, Fulci's out and out horror films were never famous for their narrative cohesion, and nor does a lack of it take away from the experience of them, indeed in this case it may add to the experience.

At the time it was released, this film and others like it were dismissed as the work of hacks, but The Beyond reveals Fulci as a master visual stylist. From the outset he lends the film a subtle surreal atmosphere with the use of smoke to give every scene (even the first in the hospital morgue, which should really be a cold, clinical, place) a slightly otherworldly feel. Fulci is also an auteur, and many of his visual obsessions are on full display here. Most notable is the clear fascination with eyes, there is an implicit suggestion in the film that those who have looked into 'The Beyond' go blind, and this is accentuated with frequent close ups on the eyes of Cinzia Monreale's character Emily; an ethereal presence who may or may not be real, but seems to seek out Liza at key moments in the film. Fulci is also fascinated by the idea of trauma to eyes, which is the focus of many of the gore scenes in the film; eyes are gouged, put out with nails and eaten by spiders.

These and all the other gore effects are brilliantly realised by the great Gianetto DiRossi and his team, whose work also graced Fulci's Zombie Flesh Eaters, City of the Living Dead and New York Ripper among many others. DiRossi's ingenious work allows Fulci to really get close in on the gore effects, to dwell on them, and while there are a few rough edges, the work is generally incredibly impressive. Fulci also knows how to use the effects, in an extended scene in which a woman's face is melted off with acid he certainly indulges in the gore, but he doesn't sacrifice menace on the altar of sensation, repeatedly cutting back to an increasing pool of acidic blood as it advances on the unfortunate victim's young daughter.

The two most notable effects in The Beyond are, respectively, perhaps the single best and the single worst DiRossi and Fulci ever accomplished as a team. The spectacular one is a relatively simple exploding head, but for me it's among the best effects of its kind ever filmed; the nastiest and most shocking (yeah, including Scanners). On the other hand the sequence in which a man is, essentially, spidered to death is pretty terrible. The mechanical spiders look awful, and really undermine some otherwise fine effects. That said, this was a sequence that stuck in a future filmmaker's mind; Sam Raimi used a shot from this sequence in his first Spider-Man film.

For all its spectacular gore and lack of narrative cohesion, it would be a mistake to think that The Beyond has nothing to offer apart from splashy violence. The performances are proficient, given the limitations (lines like: "You have carte blanche, but not a blank cheque" and a lack of on set dialogue recording), and the central trio of MacColl, Warbeck and Monreale all do solid work. Monreale is perhaps especially good, turning in an ethereal performance as Emily. What really sets the film apart though is that haunting sense of otherworldiness. Some of it; the lack of any characters outside the central drama, the seeming dislocation in the story and the abrupt nature of many scenes may be down to the budget and English language skills that gave us things like the sign in the hospital that says 'Do Not Entry', but there also clear elements designed into both the narrative and the visuals. You can't look at the tightly constructed and edited scene in which Liza and Emily first meet (on a deserted road which seems to stretch into forever) and not come away with the impression that Fulci is at least suggesting that this is some sort of alternate reality.

Even if I'm not convinced it's his best film, The Beyond may contain Fulci's best ending. He seems here to want to revisit the doomy and surreal feeling of the ending of City of the Living Dead (where it didn't really come off, to be frank), and this time he nails it perfectly. After 85 minutes of relentless violence and gore, the film pulls back, and has the courage to end on a note that is truly downbeat and haunting.

The Beyond has its weaknesses, largely in the screenplay, in which individual moments seldom join up (which, while it adds to the strange feeling of the film, can also make it a challenge to watch). One set piece falls flat, some of the dialogue and acting is comical, and there is the odd flaw with the editing (notably the take that goes on JUST long enough to show Catriona MacColl begin to break out laughing in the midst of a zombie attack. However, it is visually stunning, and sweeps you up irresistibly in a very particular world. If you haven't seen it you really can't call yourself a horror fan.

The Extras
This is one of Arrow Video's most prestigious titles, and they have gone all out on the extras package. On the first disc there are two audio commentaries; the classic laserdisc track with stars Catriona MacColl and David Warbeck, and a new recording with Fulci's daughter Antonella. I have only sampled the new track, which sounds like a fond reminiscence of Fulci, but the older track is one of my favourites; it was recorded just before Warbeck's death, and is a warm, funny track marked by the continuing chemistry between the stars, who are clearly fond of each other.

Across the two discs there is also a selection of newly filmed and substantial interviews. MacColl - who always seems a little baffled by the affection these films are held in - contributes heavily, in both a new interview and a post-screening Q and A. Cinzia Monreale, credited in The Beyond as Sarah Keller, is animated and enthusiastic in her interview, and seems to have different memories of Fulci than you might expect, given what has been said about him over the years.

From behind the scenes there are interviews with genius make up artist Gianetto DiRossi, who reveals a few of his secrets (all of which are simpler than you might expect) and with The Beyond's original US distributor, who gives an interesting insight into the grindhouse scene of the 70's and 80's.

As a whole package, this is pretty exceptional.

The Disc
The picture is absolutely stunning. The team at Arrow Video have, again, put together a brilliant restoration of the film. As much as the previous DVD releases (mine is a Region 1 version) looked great, this is light years ahead of them. There is detail in the frame that you just wouldn't have expected would ever be visible. The best thing about the transfer, however, is that it manages to uncover this detail without losing the grain that gives the film its texture, without giving it that slightly artificial, overly perfect, feel that HD can have. As far as I can tell this is a perfect transfer.

The only problem with the copy of the film I currently have is that the pre-credits sequence of the film is in black and white, rather than the original sepia tones. Happily, Arrow are running an exchange programme so you can get a corrected print.

Menus are well designed and laid out, and operations are fluid and run without animated sequences between menus, which tend to be cool once and then annoy.

The Package
From the artwork (which allows you to display one of four covers) ,to the newly commissioned booklet, to the outstanding transfer, to the extras both old and new, Arrow have here surely come up with the definitive release of this exploitation classic. It's an absolute essential for Fulci fans.


This edition of The Beyond is out now on 2 Disc Blu Ray and DVD. To buy it, and help out 24FPS at the same time, please use the links below. Thanks.

DVD Review: Minnie And Moskowitz [12]

With 24FPS growing in ambition and reach I've taken the pretty momentous decision to, for the first time in the site's nearly two and a half year existence, add a new writer to the roster. From now on, Contributing Editor Michael Ewins (who also writes for MultiMediaMouth, and his own, excellent, site E-Film Blog) will be contributing regular DVD reviews to the site. Give him a great welcome with this, his first review for 24FPS.

DIR: John Cassavettes

Seymour Moskowitz (Seymour Cassel) likes Bogart movies. He probably likes them because they help him escape from his ordinary existence parking cars and floating between bars, trying to make friends with all the wrong people. At the beginning of the film he has an abrasive encounter with a drunken man in a diner; you get the feeling the drunk's a regular. "Bunch of lonely people going in, looking up" is how he describes the cinema. On the basis of this film, he might be right.

Museum curator Minnie Moore (Gena Rowlands) loves Bogart movies too, but her loneliness forces her to think that Hollywood has conspired against her. After all, when is love ever like in the movies? Minnie is a born romantic, but she's in an abusive affair with a married man (Cassavetes himself, uncredited, in a slimily hateful role) and she's fallen out of favour with the world. One day she's on an awkward blind date with Zelmo (Val Avery), a self-obsessed, talkative loner who condemns himself with his own preferences; "do y'know, the people who listen continuously are much more fascinating than people who talk." It's at this diner where Minnie meets Moskowitz and an idiosyncratic romance begins... like the sort you'd find in movies. Except that is isn't, because most movies care about their characters a little more than this one does...

This was my first Cassavetes, and it was a mixed experience, so I'll start with the good stuff. The way Cassavetes approaches his characters is raw and realistic. He's not one for manipulation or sentiment, and you get the impression that many scenarios were improvised. If this isn't the case then it's an even greater testament to his skill with actors, and the performances by Cassel and Rowlands are excellent. Rowlands stands out, especially in the museum scene where her lover breaks off their affair. In close-up her face shifts from surprise to horror, shock to anger and finally to heartbreak. It's an acting masterclass compacted into a minute of screen-time and I might even recommend the film just for that moment. The screenplay is also layered with character, and every scene has breathing room. The problem lies in the fact that none of the characters are really very likable. At all. The aforementioned blind date is especially horrible. It ends with Zelmo shouting abuse at Minnie in the Car Park - Moskowitz intervenes and ends up hitting the man repeatedly (Zelmo landed the first blow, however). He runs off to get his truck, pulling up to Minnie and shouting "Get in!" Surprisingly, she does, and they both leave the lonely man bleeding, shouting out "What did I ever do?" I found the scene deeply uncomfortable, but I think in a way which was unintended.

Another problem is the editing, which rather than building up a rhythm cuts scenes in the middle of sentences or changes scenario just as the previous one is reaching its logical conclusion. I tried to think of it in terms of being experimental; playing with narrative form and seeing if our subconscious would add the unspoken words. But that doesn't work, because the scene cut-offs are so abrupt they just disorient the viewer, and leave them hanging. Emotional engagement becomes even harder as we're frequently being torn from one scenario to another without fluidity or consistency. I'd heard Cassavetes referred to as self-indulgent, and I'm torn on that argument. He's clearly attacking Hollywood and the cosiness of its cinema, and his jagged editing and bleak tone certainly seems difficult for the sake of being difficult. But if he wanted to draw attention to himself, why would he cast himself in the role of the abusive male chauvinist?

Minnie And Moskowitz is apparently one of Cassavetes' lighter films, but from the beatings to the repressed rage, the unrequited love and wandering loneliness, I saw little evidence to tag this film with the word 'light' in any regard. I've said many times before that a film presenting unlikable characters is not a fundamental problem in itself, but the way the filmmaker asks us to engage with them is. I think Cassavetes wants us to feel sorry for these people; to empathize with their flaws, and wish for them to be together. I wished for them to seek therapy... they need it more than each other.

The Disc/Extras
The film looks perfectly fine on DVD. There is some grain to the image in some of the night-set scenes but in a way that serves the grit and emptiness of those scenarios. This may seem an odd thing to say, but it looks exactly the way I want a 70s film to look. The only extra is the original trailer, something of a disappointment.

Minnie and Moskowitz is released on UK DVD today. If you would like to buy this film, and help out 24FPS at the same time, please use the link below. Thanks.

DVD Review: Patrol Men [18]

DIR: David Campion / Ben Simpson

Making films is hard, and when two people manage to gather the will and the money to, fresh out of university, make a feature off their own backs, and then get it released, you have to give them some credit. Sadly, that is all the credit I can give co-writers and co-directors David Campion and Ben Simpson for Patrol Men, which is so inept at every level that it makes Ed Wood look like Martin Scorsese.

It's set on a small island just off the British Isles, where there has been a curfew in force - enforced by the titular gas mask sporting 2x4 wielding nutters - for 30 years, following a brutal murder on the island. All Campion and Simpson have done here is taken bits of (much) better films and jammed them together. The setting recalls The Wicker Man, the look of the Patrol Men is a lift from Dead Man's Shoes, the boogeyman looks exactly like one of The Strangers, and his backstory is a lift of Michael Myers' backstory (yeah, cause no horror fan is ever going to spot that). There are more, but itemising them would take more space than I have here.

The film is ineptly made. It looks as though it was shot with a Hi8 camera, through a filter made of a used teabag. The lighting is appalling and the shot design suggests that angles were decided by rolling dice or (more likely) simply plonking the camera down in the first convenient spot. If the filmmaking is poor, the acting is an abomination, an offence against all good movie loving people. It ranges from lifeless (star Chloe Van Ark's scenes with the actor playing her father are like watching two people slip into comas) to the relentlessly overblown (Jonathan Hansler as the Lord Summersile style mayor). There's no sense of a consistent tone, no signal that the directors had anything specific in mind about how to tell this (stupid, derivative, boring and confusing) story.

Even the violent scenes are terrible. For the most part the Patrol Men do nothing but stand around looking 'menacing', and then when they finally get around to doing something the choreography and filming are beyond shoddy and the blood looks hilariously awful, as if the directors took Alfred Hitchcock's tip about using chocolate sauce to heart and just forgot they were shooting in colour.

Patrol Men is an embarrassment, it may be an achievement to make and release a film, but really, I wish Campion and Simpson hadn't bothered. The only way you might enjoy this (and even this is a stretch) is as an MST3K film.