Year: 2013 (U.K Release 2014)
Director: Randy Moore
Screenplay: Randy Moore
Starring: Roy Abramsohn, Elena Schuber, Katelynn Rodriguez, Annet Mahendru, Danielle Safady, Alison Lees-Taylor
Synopsis is here:
Despite suddenly appearing on Netflix awkwardly, like a Vine comedian whose has been deemed sexist, Escape from Tomorrow caused quite a stir within cinephiles due to its conception. Its director; Randy Moore uses a combination of iPhones for scripting and consumer grade DSLR cameras to create an entire feature film within Disneyland, Florida, without permission from the owners. Moore's film holds more footage of Mickey's merchandise, rides and scenery than a regular Hollywood feature would be able to legitimately pay for. When viewing the film in its entirety, you can see it's not just a gutsy move, but a logistical nightmare. The film was clearly planned in a way to conceal what Moore and his crew was actually doing. Moore himself was so worried that someone might catch what he was up to, he edited the film in South Korea.
While one could deem the shoot problematic, you can't say that all the work wasn't worth it. Moore is able to show the "happiest place on earth" in a negative view, while avoiding Disney's notorious lawyers. Fair play to the man. Yet despite this, I found Escape from Tomorrow's origins to be more interesting than the film itself. Moore's film; a deeply personal film that delves into a newly unemployed man; Jim White, descending into madness during his family's last day at Disney, is often hampered by the guerrilla tactics that allow the film to even be. The film's blurry, out of focus monochrome visuals were considered by the director not only to ease the pressure of editing, but to shape the bizarre imagery itself. This brings mixed results, as the film is a blend of artsy home video and rushed student production. Unlike the early fixtures of the mumblecore movement, the film never feels at ease visually. Yet in a ludicrous catch-22, the film could not be produced in any other way. At one point, a family argument ends with the camera fumbling gracelessly at the infamous castle merely to establish that once again, Disney is the backdrop.
Escape from Tomorrow also suffers from a flaky narrative which nods towards the surreal but lacks true cohesion. We witness Disney Princesses shown to be high class hookers to Asian businessmen, how does this connect with hypnotising evil queens, cat flu outbreaks and a regressive sci-fi experiment? The connective tissue is irritatingly loose. There's clearly a way of making all this ambition gel, but possibly not by having the protagonist father ogling underage teens. Making this one of the driving factors of the plot does little to drive compassion. Then again, the White family is difficult to draw any empathy from in the first place.
I found myself comparing EFT to Clare Denis' Bastards (2013), a film which starts out as equally as oblique as this one, albeit not as surreal. Bastards also follows an unsympathetic family, and yet the film's tone, the performances and mosaic editing had me absorbed in its puzzle. Escape from Tomorrow struggles under the weight of what it is, and so never truly comes together emotionally or conceptually.
Escape from Tomorrow never really gains a sense of self, although it does well to push the "sinster Disney" angle. This only ever feels like part of the puzzle. Moore; whose childhood clearly has ties to both Disney and his own father (their relationship deteriorated as Moore grew), clearly wishes to excavate some demons with his piece. Some elements work conceptually while the underlying themes could speak volumes if Moore had more time to work on the film's flaws. At a time in which critic A.O Scott laments at mainstream America's arrested development, Escape from Tomorrow's setting and ideas set a troubling reminder of how childhood fantasy, adult mortality and capitalist ideals can converge and warp the sense of family intimacy. Watching the film after the Sony Hack also help illustrate how one can take a pot shot at corporations by using creative methods or destructive ones. One does hope that more can distil some of his ambition and implement his talents into something that won't have him looking over his shoulder constantly.
Year: 2014
Director: Adam Wingard
Screenplay: Simon Barrett
Starring: Dan Stevens, Maika Monroe, Brendan Meyer, Lance Reddick
Synopsis is here
The Guest tackles a plot element in a similar way to Looper in which, when a character actually tries to boil down the barmy reasoning behind his being. They go against informing us the tricky, sticky details because it's "complicated". I was already beaming like a Cheshire cat at this point. I enjoy when films hit that right balance of self-awareness. It doesn't take you out of the film, but playfully jabs you about what you're watching. The Guest is full of moments like that. The film's final line, delightfully alludes to a certain 80's movie its makers clearly loved, yet still manages to sum up the WTF of the film. It works on two separate levels for two different viewers, and it's nice to see. Even when gussied up in an irrelevant retro thriller.
We first spot David (Dan Stevens) jogging down a deserted highway, army bag in tow, regulated breathing. He looks to be in training, or possibly running from something. The Guest lets us know soon enough, as David appears at the front door of the Petersons. David informs the family that he was an army buddy their deceased son Celeb, and he is welcomed in to stay a while has he sets some things straight. The thing is, while his blue eyes pop and he grins his warm smile, something always seems off with David.
Dan Stevens who plays the titular Guest of the film has one of those wonderful middle distance glares that he mixes with his handsome features, which makes everything about his performance in the early stages appear even more off kilter. Originally of Downton Abbey fame, this is the type of display that allows an actor to let loose and Stevens has a lot of fun here. From the aw shucks, southern accent, to the chance to show off his physique through sexually objectifying himself and hilariously gratuitous violence, Stevens not only gets into the trashy tone of the feature, but grabs at it with wide open arms.
It says a lot about a director like Adam Wingard to find the right actor to play this absurd, yet entertaining role. Taking Stevens away from what many know him for (stuffy, middle class period drama) and plunging him fully into the lead of a film that runs fast and loose with subverting politically correctness and joyously uses the likes of The Stepfather (1987) as a point of reference. Then again, as the writer/director of the highly enjoyable You're Next (2011), I should have expected as such.
Once again, Wingard delivers an inverted home invasion, in which the things you fear, are a lot closer to home than you would first expect. The film's wacky military sub-plot is outrageous in any serious consideration, but still manages to place the idea that the current military conflicts have sent back distant and dangerous young men who have been irrecoverably changed. Furthermore, the thing that they're most likely to disrupt first, is of course the good ol' American family. A unit who seems all too happy to welcome and believe unknown authority figures over their own members.
The snyth score and bold colour schemes are quick to notify you of just how much Wingard loved a certain type of 80's horror/thriller. Yet The Guest never loses itself in its homage and self-awareness. It's more of a straight up thriller in comparison to the similarly set Cold in July (2014), but never gets bogged down in its influences, unlike Ti West's The Sacrament (2013). The Guest shows Wingard growing in confidence as a genre director, the films brilliantly staged Halloween dance finale was perhaps one of the scenes I found the most enjoyable of 2014. Once again showing a director like Wingard letting everything hang out and have fun without things becoming sloppy. But that's the great thing about Wingard and a film like The Guest, everything is so tightly controlled, even when it gets messy.
Year: 2014
Director: David Michôd
Screenplay: Joel Edgerton, David Michôd
Starring: Guy Pearce, Robert Patterson
Synopsis is here
The Rover is a brutally grim apocalyptic thriller set 10 years after a "collapse" which ravaged Australia, possibly the world. As we enter this world, we see Australia as a sparse and deadened wasteland ravaged by the titular "event". The collapse could possibly refer to an event that has occurred within Eric (Pearce); the protagonist of the feature. If the exterior event displays the degradation of the materials we currently take for granted, then the insular collapse inside Eric is a crumbling of character and spirit. Despite this, there is a defiance within which we don't fully understand until the film's final moments. The final act by Eric will frustrate, upset and maybe even hearten. However, for a film goer like myself, writing this a day after viewing, it may also be difficult to forget.
The Rover is a lean cut of a film. There's little in terms of plot to really grasp on to, and that works in its favor. Pearce's Eric is drowning his demons in a bar before three thieves make off with his car. By chance, he captures the lead thief's brother (Robert Patterson) and the two of them work towards finding the trio and the missing vehicle.
David Michôd's second feature is much more of a mood piece than a solid set adventure. The film is far more interested in the brittleness of those who have lost everything, than a clear destination. An underlying tension pulses through many of the scenes. We find Pearce's Eric already nearing the brink of being mentally shattered. The theft of his vehicle only pushes him further down the decline. The word hardened doesn't give the man justice. Pearce again shows the type of intense performance that, we sometimes forget that he's very good at (the last thing I saw him in was the forgettable Iron Man 3 (2013))
Robert Patterson brings a jumble of man-child tics together to unleash a transformative display. Once again stepping away from the glittery vampire movies that placed him on the map, his role of Reynolds has a slight "Sling Blade (1996)" vibe to proceedings and yet, Patterson still manages to hold his own in an expressive performance that still manages to capture the despondent nature of the film.
Visually stark and with a hard edged tone that is difficult to shake off, The Rover doesn't bring everything together with the same completeness as other desolate features such as The Proposition (2008), nor does it have the same kinetic energy that the likes of Mad Max brought to post-apocalyptic worlds. But if Mad Max was about the insanity of staying mobile when everything is depleted, The Rover taps into the insular feelings of emotions themselves breaking down that Max only really held as a side note. There's the same cold feelings of dread felt here that could be found in the likes of Wake in Fright (1971) and The Road (2009), although The Rover slips at fully taking us into the world as those two examples did. That doesn't mean The Rover can't stand on its own two feet. It just means it holds good company.
Year: 2013 (2014 U.K Theatrical release)
Director: Lukas Moodysson
Screenplay: Lukas Moodysson
Starring: Mira Barkhammar, Mira Grosin, Liv LeMoyne
Synopsis is here
Lukas Moodysson broke this blogger's heart 12 years ago, with his brutally engrossing coming of age drama: Lilya 4-ever (2002). This was a film with such little compromise, that it's taken me over a decade to gain the courage to even place it near the top of my re-watch pile. It's the type of film that you need to be in a "good" place for, before you consider watching.
Moodysson has kept busy with very particular, left field offerings, but his latest entry; We Are the Best, appears to be his most accessible since Lilya 4-ever. Despite having the same unyielding temperament with similar dispassionate settings, Moodysson is clearly coming in this coming of age story (based on a graphic novel by his wife Coco), with a lighter, more joyous attitude.
At first there doesn't seem to be too much to We Are the Best. Three teenage girls from Stockholm look to form a punk band, despite holding limited knowledge of their instruments and forming with little more than their outsider status. Moodysson has never really been one for intricate plots, but as a filmmaker who considers himself a feminist, he really knows how to get a hold of his young female characters. What we notice about We Are the Best is Moodsson joyfully using these outcasts illustrate female unity as well as touch about the director's own feelings on religion and politics.
The 1982 setting is perfect for a film which is looking at how we observe particular subjects now. A group of women who are; like so many girls their age, gaining interest in boys, media and drinking. Yet the characters indulgence for left leaning socio-political punk and the conversations and overall acceptance of the Hedvig; the Christian lead guitarist, as well their bonding despite their differences, speaks volumes about what Moodysson find important within the coming of age sub-genre.
The sight of seeing these girls form a friendship because of their music and despite what others feel about them is genuinely heartening to the soul. The three leads are all so enjoyable in their roles, that we quickly realise that much like so much Punk music, the music itself isn't the most important aspect, it's the togetherness. When the grown-ups just don't understand, it's always been the rambunctious of your peers that will get you through. Moodysson has made a film to happily remind us.
Year: 2014
Director: Jim Mickle
Screenplay: Jim Mickle, Nick Damici
Starring: Michael C. Hall, Sam Shepard, Don Johnson, Vinessa Shaw
Synopsis is
here:
After reading a few of Joe R Landsdale short stories, I've found him to be an entertaining writer who manages to capture a reader's imagination quickly with his snappy potboilers. Tight Little Stitches in a Dead Man's Back, for instance, is a sharp sci-fi balanced with a somber heartache, which manages a considerable sense of scope, yet can be finished before the end of your train journey. Jim Mickle is a filmmaker whose filmography capture an unusual blend of American gothic and playful genre switching that is warmly welcomed for a film viewer such as myself.
I found it no surprise that Mickle's film version of Landsdale's novel; Cold in July, shows that the writers' material and the director's style of storytelling and thematic focal points provide a good foil for each other.
From the start of the film, I found myself gripped. Our mild mannered protagonist; Richard shoots a young trespassing burglar and find himself struggling with the moral concerns of taking a man's life. We sink further down the rabbit hole as we discover that the thief's father; Ben (an intensely stoic Sam Shepard), is out on parole and is looking for vengeance towards the man who killed his son. We soon find out that the cops haven't been as honest with the situation as they could have been what could have been a clear cut case, becomes a twisted noir, which brings both Richard together in ways they wouldn't have thought of when they found each other.
What looks to be a straight forward film about survival and revenge, soon bends into something different entirely. Mickle's film starts of as a Cape Fear style thriller by way of John Carpenter before morphing into a History of Violence tinged noir, in which the murky sins of the family slowly creeping into the present lives of the characters we follow. Micheal C Hall's awkward and frightened family man, may feel slightly one note at times, it's clear that he's enjoying being able to play a character who is clearly out of his element. Watching his face has the twisted sense of honour is revealed by both Ben and his P.I cohort Jim (a spirited Don Johnson) is quite a picture.
The chilly, stark backwoods of Mickle's Stake Land (2010) and We Are What We Are (2013) are replaced with a highly stylised, sun baked Texas, which, despite its rich, saturated colours feels no less dark than the films that came before it. What first appears as a clean cut man troubled by the moral quandary that comes with murder, descends into something much murkier when he finds his life inhabited by characters who have dealt with death before. We expect clarity from the situation at first, but Mickle is a filmmaker who enjoys clouding the ethics of the people we watch. He wants everyone to feel a little dirty.
The 80's setting and references work well with the story and never distract from it. It never feels like fancy nostalgia. Nor does it feel like it should be altered. Meanwhile Mickle's genre blending here, feels much like Stake Land, which happily moved between gothic and road movie with a quietly observed sense of satisfaction. Mickle once again easily shows how assured he is a director as Cold in July easily slips and shifts in tone, brings in dark humour and a cold sense of dread, and never feels jarring.
It is a shame that Vinessa Shaw's solid (although slightly shrewish) wife is pushed to the side, making sure the film is unable to truly create some complex family and gender dynamics. However, as a pulpy, contorted thriller about masculinity, fatherhood and just how far some are willing to stride into the darkness. Cold in July is one of most fascinating genre pieces of the year.
