Review: It Comes at Night

Year: 2017
Director: Trey Edward Shults
Screenplay: Trey Edward Shults
Starring: Joel Edgerton, Christopher Abbott, Carmen Ejogo, Kelvin Harrison Jr, Riley Keough.

Synopsis is here:

It Comes at Night has been marketed as a typical horror film. I’m sure that there were a few people who saw posters and trailers and assumed that it would be the type of bland, stereotypical nonsense that leaks out into cinemas at the arse-end of January or the back end of the Netflix new release queue. Not so.

It Comes at Night found itself referenced in Steve Rose’s Guardian article which tries to make that argument that the film is part of a newly termed (by Rose himself) post-horror movement, in which films which don’t run the course of a so called conventional horror film, like say The Conjuring (2013), are slowly taking over at the multiplex. The problem with a term such as post-horror is that quite simply, it's the type of term used by people, who don’t seem to be particularly interested in the genre. At one-point Rose states as a result of successful titles such as Split (2017) and Get Out (2017) means, as a result, there’s now a market for horrors with low budget and mass appeal. Most people who enjoy horror films know that this has been the case for decades and not just now.

The same goes for the very idea of post-horror. In the documentary The American Nightmare (2000), director Adam Simon details many of the so-called aspects of post horror that Rose depicts. While true that a modern glut of films has brought around a sense of “refinement” to the ideas Rose describes. What Trey Edward Shults brings across in his second feature are the same types of concerns and societal anxieties that inhabit horror films since the likes of George A Romero appeared on the scene. Things don’t jump out at you during Romero’s Martin (1978), David Cronenberg’s Dead Ringers (1988) or Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man (1973), but we certainly accept the existential dread that comes with them.

Much like Shults first film, Krisha (2016) It Comes at Night is a film in which the horror comes from regular people reaching deep inside them to do horrific things. It opens with a family being forced into the difficult decision to extinguish the life of an elderly member suffering from an unknown epidemic which has – from what we know – ravaged America as we know it.  Shults opens his film almost exactly like his debut feature: with an older face framed in extreme close-up. Despite looking at a stranger, Shults manages to portray familiarity, uncertainty and fear in a few short moments. He also sets the tone for the rest of the movie.

The atmosphere is one of intense grief and paranoia as we follow a family struggling to survive a contagious disease which has taken hold of the nation. Tempers flare when a second family interrupt their secluded sanctuary.

It Comes at Night feels quite plain when laid out on paper. In execution, it’s an exceptionally deft piece of work from a filmmaker who has quickly developed an authoritative vision on screen. Much like Get Out (2017) or Polanski’s apartment trilogy, Shults is an auteur that understands and utilises the idea that what can destroy us is simple mistrust. The horror that unravels within the film comes from the simple fact that with the right amount of pressure, decent people will do horrific things.
Shults mostly eschews overt violence and, like his previous feature focuses fully on mood. Save for one sequence, there are no ‘BOO’ moments, merely a steady feeling of unease that parades throughout. The camera set-ups are simple. Nothing complex. But the use of slow foreboding zooms, tight close-ups and powerful use of sound help bring around an inescapable feeling of dread. Tension builds as we quickly realise that the events that occur could be easily avoidable, yet the very real craving for self-destruction makes everything seem unavoidable. The terror stems from our wish to pick at the frayed edges of our humanity. To tongue the cut roof of the mouth. To pick at the scabs.

It Comes at Night picks an exceptionally on point cast to bring the terror home. You can feel that both Joel Edgerton and Christopher Abbott’s father figures are striving to make things work for their families. You can really feel that search for catharsis through Kelvin Harrison Jr’s display as Travis. Carmen Ejogo and Riley Keough are well drafted as the film’s motherly characters and each actor manages to tap into the right amount of feel to bring round the fraught and delicate bonds needed for such a story. Bonds which have their fragility heightened as uncertainty creeps in.

The beauty of the film’s ugliness lies in how well Shults navigates and toys with those processed ideas of the American family. This theme has lingered in American horror films since Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1960). It’s apparent that it is these generational and social tensions which trigger something within the filmmaker. It also highlights why the idea of “post-horror” garnered such a negative reaction. It seems to be quite clear that Shults is updating tried and tested ideas for a different generation. For this writer, It Comes at Night works exceedingly well. Understanding the pitfalls of what could be considered “lesser” horror, the film manages to destabilise and unnerve viewers without the simple need to throw guts at the screen or use flagrant jump scares to catch the attention. It Comes at Night’s fears comes from the simple fact that the darkest monsters are the ones who we instil our trust in. When we look back at so much horror through the ages, we realise that it has always been that way.

Article: Paying Attention

Perhaps to quell the angry noise of Kanye West haters still bitching about his Glastonbury set nearly a week later. Joe Queenan wrote a piece for The Guardian film blog in which he skipped out to answer his phone during a one point of Jurassic World.  He found that he missed a pivotal plot point which makes the film’s half assed climax feel even more like a full on Deus Ex Machina. The piece has annoyed the twitter filminista with its snarky, trollish tone.

One paragraph states:

"This was amazing. I have been ducking out of movies to get more candy or answer phone calls or reply to texts or go to the loo for years, yet this was the first time I had ever missed something important. With good reason: Movies are filled with dead spots, padding, meaningless interludes, pointless detours, grace notes and extraneous subplots that you don’t have to see to follow the movie. There is nothing in any Adam Sandler or Fast and the Furious movie that will ruin the film-going experience for you if you miss it. You don’t need to see every frame of The Godfather or Gladiator or Avatar or even Sleepless in Seattle to see where things are headed."

Even despite the film examples used, this paragraph seems tailor made to annoy the BFI brats and Sight and Sound sons.  Of course I disagree with it. Your first year of film studies will have you detailing shot by shot analysis, while further study will delightfully inform you that every shot, nee second of a film is infused with reason and meaning. Possibly not a necessary thing for an causal viewer, but for someone whose writing about movies, I'd rather if they followed a similar trait.

Meanwhile, a quick google will also detail that Queenan is a self-professed “clown”. It’s actually a bit odd to see good film friends, seemingly had not sensed the tone that’s gleamed from the piece. At first read, while I didn’t like what the post was saying, I could easily pick up the tone.

However, the issue that comes with such a piece, joke or not, is the privilege of the film/media writer. Film criticism is already fraught with its own anxieties. It’s bad enough that the causal film viewer views, critics and writers as the devil. They are viewed as a humourless blob of portentous think pieces and mise-en-scene, who only exist to hate the films they love. With failed pieces of humour debating that film and culture writers don’t have to watch what they write about, it’s easy to see why people have got their back up. Annoyingly, I wonder why there isn’t more ire about such pieces, because they’re becoming the norm.

Last month Joni Edelman decided that Pixar aren’t thinking of the children with a piece about Inside Out body shaming kids before they even know what body shaming is. She had not seen the film. Doesn’t mean she can’t be condescending:

“I can't write with any real authority about Inside Out, because I haven't seen the movie, but I'm pretty much 100% positive that seeing the movie isn't required to make this judgment. Because here's the thing about movies: They are made of pictures. And visual memory is more reliable than auditory or tactile. That's right, folks, we remember what we see.”

Yes. We do remember what we see. But it would be nice if you watch the film that you’ve decided to attack the film company about.

Speaking of body shaming. Established critic Rex Reed; who gleefully insulted Melissa McCathy’s weight in his review for Identity Thief, decided he didn’t need to watch VHS2 in order to review it. Stating that the film was unwatchable from start to finish, yet walking out 20 minutes into the film.

Dennis Jett felt there’s no need to watch American Sniper in order to deem its morals as heinous. His think-piece stating that he’s watched the trailer and that’s all he needs to watch to fully understand the morals of the film. Let’s forget that most trailers are not made the filmmakers and that they are used to make the film as marketable as it can be. All you need is trailer footage.

Readers want to feel what they are reading is somewhat informed. Bloggers like myself, may write hackneyed critiques at the likes of Armond White, but no matter how I sometimes feel about his criticism, I always feel that I’ve been informed by his work. It’s amusing that that left leaning media like The Guardian is quoting how it wishes to keep journalism free and fearless, yet we receive film blog posts making light of not actually paying attention to what they’re watching. To have a blogger for the Huffpost boldly state her feminist leanings, yet decides that the film she wishes read the riot act to, isn’t worth watching because a “friend confirmed” her suspicions, undermines critical thinking at the most basic level. It’s important that the likes of Edelman speaks out about body image and feminist issues, but what’s the point if she’s unwilling to look into the main body of text she's annoyed at? The same goes for a journalist being quick to attack American Sniper’s Red State, right wing, flag waving, but isn’t watching the film needed to be watch yet to bolster their point? In researching for this post, I found myself on some American Republican sites that I’d rather not have on my history. Yet at least they watched the film that the argument is about.

These writers don’t need clicks from me to gain their paycheque, or more exposure. However, what’s bothersome is the idea that writers are not watching the film that they want to stop you from watching. Yet they still believe that they’re fully justified.  In this day and age, I see so many talented and hungry writers struggling to find a readership, let alone payment. Meanwhile, those who already hold the exposure believe that not actually watching the thing that they bemoaning is the right way to go.

I could be wrong. But I doubt I’m the only person bothered by the fact that we’re seeing more media and pop culture writers writing in a similar way to the anonymous commenters that often get mocked. We laugh at their whining and trolling at reviews of movies they’ve not yet seen. Yet now we’re seeing writers with proper viewership’s endorsing similar traits, but with larger word counts. That said, in this pay per click world, I’m not sure many care. With attention spans going the way of the dodo. It’s doubtful the readers finish the offending pieces. Minds already made up before finishing the first paragraph. When in Rome.

Review: The Bay

Year: 2012

Director: Barry Levinson

Screenplay: Michael Wallach

Starring: Will Rogers, Kristen Connolly, Kether Donohue, Frank Deal, Stephen Nunken, Christopher Denham, Nansi Aluka

Synopsis is here

Look around hard enough and you’ll find critics who greatly admired The Bay. The Guardian’s David Cox wisely considered the feature a horror film for grown-ups. Behind the film’s found footage gimmick is a multifaceted piece which holds an honest focus on characters that more popular counterparts would use awkwardly against a typical, more cumbersome plot. Yet despite this; I found that thoughtful ideas aside, nothing in the film lingers. I appreciate the films intent, but nothing truly tantalises.

One of The Bay’s main problems is that Levinson (a veteran director who’s new to horror) strangely doesn't get to grips with the meat of the piece. An early scene which highlights a river attack (with the footage edited to look like it’s been damaged by water), is cut with such excellent timing that it raised my expectations for any further set pieces.  However such moments are place few and far between, much like the captured fleeting moments we see of a scared 15 year old on face time. The heavily saturated, mass footage slammed together with such a queasy rhythm it creates a beautifully pitched chaotic mosaic. Troubled gazes stare weakly into our own before being contrasted with a pretty mother with baby in tow, beaming broadly into a HD camera. The American flag blows proudly in the background as she and her family have no clue of the carnage that awaits.

But these moments just do not last. What does hang around is the slack jawed lead narration from Kether Donohue who seems uneasy with the large amount of the film she has to carry. Wallach’s script does little to help matters. The narration and dialogue feels forced and stilted and the weaker performers do little to elevate matters. The Bay has the same problem that flustered George A Romero’s Diary of the Dead (2005), with a script that stutters, starts, splutters and spoon feeds it’s more appealing ideas within aesthetic that is often more trouble than it’s worth. Visually The Bay could have benefited from using less of the found footage. The moments I mentioned above get lost inside a flatly captured world that really hurt the atmosphere.        

But of course that’s one of the biggest issues with found footage. It’s already tough to have a crew skilled enough to make something compelling out of footage meant to look like a compiled artefact. The Bay only hits those peaks once or twice. However as we see the found footage style seep into cinema more, the more it’s starting to feel like a crutch.The Bay; unlike more accomplished films of its ilk, has the found footage style feel like more of a distraction than anything. As the film goes on it feels less like a movie and more like a goof. Fear was the last thing on my mind. I found myself wondering if I've seen anyone do something similar with fewer gimmicks and more emphasis on adult terror. The name was Steven Soderbergh, the film was Contagion (2011).