Rob Wickings's Blog, page 64

Clive Does Frightfest

This is the end…

Leading Man Clive pulls out all the stops with his Frightfest overview this year. Get yourself comfortable, Readership. We’re going to be here for a while…

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After five days of horror, with fifty two fantastic genre movies shown over four screens (The main screen, two discovery screens and one for repeats), the fourteenth annual Frightest at an end. It’s also an ending for the Empire Leicester Square’s Screen One. The closing film Big Bad Wolves proved to be last ever movie screened there. It’s now being redeveloped, and there’s talk of it being split into two screens, with one being an IMAX one. Whatever form the new look Empire takes, next year there will be changes to the format of Frightfest.

So perhaps it was appropriate that this years’ festival had a quieter, more muted feel to it. No big name horror guests, some regular faces missing and a film programme that was solid but didn’t (at first glance) contain anything genre-defining. After last year’s controversy, and storms in the twitter-sphere over the content of some of the films (13 really was unlucky for them), this year it seemed that (whether consciously or not) those programming the festival had reacted to the criticism they took last year and played it safe. But who knows? Perhaps there just weren’t any controversial or extreme films to choose from this year.

There’s been grousing from some corners of the Frightfest faithful that in comparison to previous years, this year the films were poor, with few standouts. However, I beg to differ. Okay, on the main screen there were less standout films, but those of us who ventured into the discovery screens found there were many strange and varied genre pleasures to be had. Indeed, half of my top ten films this year came from the discovery screens.

A brief word on my own relationship with Frightfest: This was my twelfth Frightfest in a row as a full weekend passholder, and as a filmmaker I’ve had short films shown at both the Odeon West End and the Empire Leicester Square, and been onstage to introduce them. So I guess you could call me a Frightfest veteran. Cards on the table, I love this festival.

As usual, before the top ten I want to acknowledge the best of the short films; list some of the movies I missed out on this year, and explain some notable omissions.

There was a veritable feast of short films on offer this year. In fact there were so many, that they escaped from the usual ghetto of the Short Film Showcase, and spread themselves throughout the festival like a (thankfully non-flesh-eating) viral outbreak. Paul McEvoy’s official selection was augmented by the six Short Cuts from Hell competition finalists, as well as the return of the Turn off your bloody phone shorts. Of those few I saw, the standouts were two UK shorts, Chuck Steel – Raging Balls of Steel Justice (written & directed by Mike Mort) and The Body that went for laughs rather than scares and succeeded.

The Body was directed by a friend, Paul Davis (Him Indoors), so it was great to see him developing as a filmmaker. Another director friend, Mike Tack (One Careful Owner) was one of the competition winners in the Turn off your bloody phone shorts section with Phoneraiser, a witty homage to Clive Barker’s Hellraiser. Interestingly, this year the competition winners were much better than the professional efforts in this category. However, it’s surely time to retire this short film strand, as it’s begun to feel like a joke that’s worn a bit thin.

Given the scale of the festival, it’s now physically impossible to see every film that screens at Frightfest over the five day weekend. Of the 52 films screened at Frightfest this year, I saw 25 at the festival, and 3 I had seen previously. That left 24 films (or TV specials) that I wasn’t able to catch.

Of those 24 I was most sorry to miss the 3 documentaries in the programme:

The American Scream

Rewind This!

On Tender Hooks

Sadly, scheduling conflicts and difficulty in getting discovery screen tickets for certain ultra-popular films meant I missed out on all three. I heard very good buzz from those who did though. Other notable titles I wasn’t able to see but heard good things about included:

Stalled

100 Bloody Acres

Haunter

The Last Days

VHS 2

Hatchet 3

The Dyatlov Pass Incident

Just missing out on my top ten and deserving of ‘honourable mention’ status were:

The Hypnotist

Curse of Chucky

Outpost: Rise of the Spetsnaz

Finally, those notable omissions…

Totally arbitrarily, I’ve decided to restrict my top ten to new movies, which means I’ve had to leave out my retro-discovery of the festival:

Wake in Fright (aka. Outback)

This hugely influential Aussie film from the director of First Blood isn’t really a horror movie, but it is a disturbing and unique one. Like another ‘70s classic starring Donald Pleasance, Death Line (aka. Raw Meat), here an outsider director (Canadian Ted Kotcheff) targets the society he finds himself thrust into (small-town Australia) and skewers it. Warning: contains upsetting footage of a real kangaroo cull.

As a weekend passholder at Frightfest, where I’m trying to cram in as many films as possible into 5 days, the challenge is always coping with sleep deprivation, caffeine addiction, and eating and drinking at odd hours. At some point in the festival I find myself hitting a wall of fatigue and falling asleep during a movie. I’m not talking about the micro-sleeps you experience during the boring bits of a poor festival movie. I’m talking full narcoleptic sleepy-time. You just hope when it hits that: a) you don’t snore; and b) it hits during a bad movie.

It’s confession time – this year I hit that fatigue wall during:

No One Lives

I slept through most of the first half an hour, and was left playing catch up for the remaining 57 minutes. But I did see enough to know that this is a very smart, slick serial killer/slasher movie hybrid with some great surprises and kills. The Frightfest audience loved it. However, I can’t in good conscience properly rate it, as I’ve not yet seen the whole thing, hence its omission from the top ten. I will certainly be seeking it out on DVD/Blu-Ray later.

The final notable omission from my top ten may also be partly due to fatigue as it was the closing film of the festival, or maybe not:

Big Bad Wolves

Sadly, for me this was the biggest disappointment of Frightfest. It was the movie I’d been looking forward to most, as I’m a big fan of the two Israeli directors’ first film, the genre-bending horror Rabies. This uneasy mix of police procedural, fairy tale and Tarantino-esque humour just didn’t work for me. It’s certainly original, and I did laugh at some of the blackly-comic moments, but the tone skewed awkwardly when the grim results of the paedophile killer popped up on screen.

I have friends who love this movie, and I will give Big Bad Wolves another chance away from the hothouse atmosphere of the festival (and when I’m not so tired), but on first watch I’m sorry to say I just didn’t get it.

Here then, without further ado, is my top ten of Frightest 2013:

10) In Fear (2013) – UK – Writ. + Dir. Jeremy Lovering

New couple Lucy (Alice Englert – Beautiful Creatures) and Tom (Iain De Caesteker – Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.) get lost in a labyrinth of rural roads when they decide to stop off at a secluded hotel on their way to a music festival. Tormented by a mysterious masked figure, can bloodied survivor Max (Allen Leach – Downton Abbey) help them to escape their nightmare? Or is this just another move in a very sick game?

The confined setting or ‘bottle’ thriller is the Holy Grail of low budget filmmaking (I must know at least 5 friends who are writing one). Small cast, one small self- contained location, and hopefully one big concept. It’s a real challenge, so I was interested to see what first time writer/director Jeremy Lovering came up with.

With a few minor exceptions, In Fear is mostly two, and then three people in a car. Thankfully, it doesn’t follow the example of terrible no-budget horror 5 Across the Eyes, in which the camera never left the inside of the car. However, you still have large chunks of the movie where there isn’t a great deal of visual variation. Lovering though makes the smart choice to use the claustrophobia of the car to crank up the tension.

All three leads are likeable, but Allen Leach in particular seems to be enjoying the different character moments he gets to play with. Coming on like a cross between recent Brit-thriller Hush and The Hitcher, this film does actually try and scare you and manages to elicit a few low-octane chills. But for me what elevates an otherwise solid low-budget thriller into the top ten is the last ten minutes. I won’t spoil the ending, but there is a surprise reveal which reminded me of Edward G. Ulmer noir classic Detour, and there can be no higher praise.

9) Willow Creek (2013) – USA – Writ. + Dir. Bobcat Goldthwait

Believer Jim (Bryce Johnson – Sleeping Dogs) talks sceptical girlfriend Kelly (Alexie Gilmore – God Bless America) into acting as camera operator on his Bigfoot documentary. Re-tracing the steps of previous crypto-zoologists they meet a bizarre collection of cranks and eccentrics. They seek the source of the infamous Patterson-Gimlin film, but deep in the woods they find something much stranger and more terrifying.

Director Bobcat Goldthwait (God Bless America) brings his satirical eye to the found footage genre and we get an hour of entertaining faux-documentary on the search of Bigfoot and the culture that’s sprung up around it. Mixing up interviews of real Sasquatch experts with character actors playing locals, Goldthwaite seems to be having fun blurring the lines between reality and fiction.

Willow Creek is a ‘found footage’ movie, and it’s one that, like its heroes, is very definitely following in the footsteps of its forebears. On the plus side, that means this movie doesn’t cheat. With only one main camera, there are very few cuts, and (except for the end credits) all the music used is diegetic (ie. It comes solely from sources we see onscreen – from characters singing and playing music, or from the radio). Also, you’ve got to admire the balls of filmmaker who is willing to let a 22 minute scene play out on one camera without any cuts.

On the negative side, if you’ve seen any ‘found footage’ movies before, you are going to be feeling a certain sense of déjà vu. The Blair Witch Project in particular does seem to have been a point of reference for the script, with certain story beats echoing what I believe is still the most financially successful Independent horror movie of all time.

So, despite both movies being wildly different in tone, file this one next to The Last Exorcism as a found footage movie with a whip smart first hour and a disappointing ending.

8) For Elisa [Para Elisa] (2013) – Spain – Writ. + Dir. Juanra Fernández

Cash-poor student Ana (Ona Casamiquela) answers an advert for a part-time nanny and finds she is entering the creepy world of matriarch Diamantina (Luisa Gavasa) and her collection of antique dolls. Imprisoned, Ana finds herself the plaything of Diamantina’s strange daughter Elisa (Ana Turpin), who has a tendency to break her toys.

For Elisa has a neat psychological horror set-up, a likeable heroine, painterly cinematography (courtesy of David Valldepérez) and creepy central idea. It has great ingredients, but frustratingly as a whole it falls short of greatness.

I think the main reason for this is the decision Fernández makes to massively telescope the action and have the events of the story take place over just a few hours. He also rushes through the second half of the film (For Elisa is barely 80 minutes long). While this does give the boyfriend character’s subplot urgency, it also hamstrings the psychological nastiness.

Ana finds herself imprisoned within a truly unique and sick family, and I wanted to see what her life would be like there. Torture, whether mental or physical, is always more painful the more drawn out it is. Films like Misery, 5150 Elm’s Way (aka 5150 Rue des Ormes) and previous Frightfest favourite Mum & Dad, gain a lot of their power by slowly unveiling the full insanity of the abductors over a period of weeks and months. It’s a shame that’s not a choice that was made here. However, fans of Misery will still note its obvious influence on one particular sequence in the movie.

I’m sorry to say that the other reason is Elisa herself. Ana Turpin is fine in the role, but what was needed was an actor willing to move beyond the mousey surface and fully reveal to us Elisa’s potential for violence and unpredictability. A performance like that of Robin McLeavy as ‘Princess’ Lola in previous Frightfest selection The Loved Ones – now THAT is a scary character. Luisa Gavasa is excellent as the mother Diamantina, but sadly we don’t get enough of her.

I feel I’ve been a little harsh on film I did enjoy. This is still a solid slice of Euro Horror, and it’s a promising debut from writer/director Juanra Fernández. It’s just that as the credits rolled I felt it could have been so much more.

7) You’re Next (2011) – USA – Dir. Adam Wingard; Writ. Simon Barrett

The Davidson family are re-uniting to celebrate Mum and Dad’s wedding anniversary. Son Crispian (A.J. Bowen – The Signal) has prepared his new girlfriend Erin (Sharni Vinson – Bait) for fireworks from his dysfunctional siblings, but not for the assault that follows. This year, the Davidson family home has been targeted by attackers wearing animal masks. But these killers haven’t reckoned on one of their victims having a very deadly set of skills.

Ever since hyperbolic and hysterical reports of a slasher movie that broke the mould started to come out of stateside festivals in 2011, genre fans in the UK have been licking their lips in anticipation of a bloody banquet of terror…

Finally, two years on we get see Adam Wingard’s (A Horrible Way to Die, VHS) inventive hybrid of the home invasion and slasher genres. And hybrid is the right word for this often contradictory movie that pulls in a number of different directions at the same time.

It’s a movie that uses the Scream-like meta-approach to get laughs by pointing out and then subverting horror tropes. It’s a studio pick-up that plays by rules of the franchise creation game. It’s also a movie with a defiantly Indie sensibility throughout, which eschews the normal teen cast of a slasher to focus on an older group of characters. Or, to put it another way: its core twenty and thirty something cast members are actually playing twenty and thirty something characters rather than unconvincing teenagers.

Not only that but You’re Next is a movie where the director seems to have got a load of his mates in to fill out the cast, and horror fans can play ‘spot the director’. There’s Larry Fessenden (Wendigo), Ti West (The Innkeepers), Joe Swanberg (VHS) and the film’s writer Simon Barrett (VHS 2). It’s like an American Indie version of a John Landis movie. Personally, I’d prefer to watch a John Landis version of an American Indie movie, but there you go.

The most successful part of this bloody sundae of a film is the horror comedy part. A.J. Bowen excels at this kind of thing and Sharni Vinson gives as good as she gets as his girlfriend. It’s a bit predictable towards the end but the kills are good and just because we’ve heard a joke before that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not funny any more. Finally, any movie with Barbara Crampton (Re-Animator, Chopping Mall, From Beyond) in it – here playing the mother of the family – gets plus points from me.

6) Dark Tourist [aka. The Grief Tourist] (2012) – USA – Dir. Suri Krishnamma; Writ. Frank John Hughes

Security guard Jim Tahna (Michael Cudlitz – Southland) is a ‘Dark Tourist’ who spends his annual vacation retracing the steps of notorious serial killers. This year as he visits the haunts of Carl Marznap (Pruitt Taylor Vince – Constantine), Jim starts to mentally unravel. Torn between his desires for local waitress Betsy (Melanie Griffith – Working Girl; Something Wild) and his prostitute neighbour Iris (Suzanne Quast) his own darkest secrets start to spill out.

Horror cinema, and genre cinema in general is full of serial killers. Jason, Michael, Freddy, Hannibal… the list goes on and on. But most screen serial killers don’t bear much resemblance to their real life counterparts. They’re more like the wolf pretending to be Grandmother; the campfire tale come to life; the Boogeyman made flesh.

If (like me) you’ve done any background reading at all into real-life serial killers, then you’ll find backstory after backstory of physical and sexual abuse, of sick people who are damaged and broken by life. That absolutely doesn’t excuse their actions; it just so often seems to be the common thread between them. It’s not scary, so much as sickening, deeply depressing and sad. This then is the territory that Dark Tourist guides us into.

That’s not a fun place to visit, but thankfully, Dark Tourist is an absorbing study of psychological decline and fall. Initially a voiceover-driven drama, this is dominated by Michael Cudlitz’s performance as the titular Dark Tourist. We are with him throughout the film, witnessing his interactions with waitresses, whores and long dead killers.

There’s a surprise which gives the movie a little exploitation movie kick, but that’s not what you leave with. You leave thinking about the performances, particularly Cudlitz, but also Carl Marznap and Melanie Griffith (who does her best work for years).

[Rob notes: this is nothing to do with the Dom Joly book, which would be a frankly even more terrifying prospect...]

5) The Desert [El Desierto ] (2013) – Argentina – Writ. + Dir. Christoph Behl

In an isolated location, two men and one woman have survived the zombie apocalypse in their fortified house. However, the love triangle between Ana (Victoria Almeida), Jonathan (William Prociuk) and Ana’s former lover Axel (Lautaro Delgado) has poisoned relations between them. When the two men return from a scavenging expedition with a pet zombie who Ana christens Pythagoras (Lucas Lagré), the survivors enter a dangerous new phase.

When is a zombie movie not a zombie movie? When it’s an existential character study with zombies in it…

Like The Divide (another previous Frightfest selection), The Desert isn’t interested in the end of the world, so much as studying what happens to human beings who are cooped up together once the civilised world has crumbled. Where it differs is in its sensibility and approach.

The sensibility here is an Arthouse one, and the pacing and story progression is very deliberate. Writer/Director Christoph Behl meticulously documents the mundane everyday routine that the central trio follow in order to stay alive and stay sane. We watch the video diaries that Ana makes. We see how they get their water and how they’ve fortified their home. But this is an approach that demands patience from the viewer.

I’ll admit that after almost 30 beautifully filmed minutes of nothing much happening, I did start to nod off. Thankfully at that point, Pythagoras the zombie gets introduced into the household and the main plot kicks in. Then, much to my surprise, I found myself drawn into the film by these three characters and their struggles. The whole cast excels, but the performances of Victoria Almeida and Lautaro Delgado as the estranged former lovers Ana and Axel are great.

Also, I really appreciated the little visual grace notes and attention to detail. Whether it was the simple scene when the rains came, or recurring images like the flies that Axel has tattooed over his body. Those flies become a swarm that charts both the time that’s passed and Axel’s own decline. The end, when it comes is heart-rending, and manages the trick of being both surprising and inevitable.

Like Sex, Lies and Videotape spliced with Day of the Dead, The Desert is a drama that rewards the patient viewer, and shows just how broad a church horror is.

4) The Borderlands (2013) – UK – Writ. + Dir. Elliot Goldne r

The Vatican sends in a team to investigate a possible miracle at a remote West Country church. There, damaged investigator Deacon (Gordon Kennedy – Robin Hood) clashes with cynical Father Mark (Aidan McArdle – Killing Bono) over his methods and beliefs. New to paranormal detective work is Gray (Robin Hill – Down Terrace), their technical expert, who ensures webcams and personal headcams record everything. Is this just another case of fakery, or have they stumbled onto something much darker and more ancient?

Just like with last year’s top ten entry The Devil’s Business, I need to declare an interest here. I know the film’s producer Jen Handorf, so it’s true I did go into the screening wanting to like the movie. However, it’s also true that I went into the movie extremely tired and grumpy after having had to get up at the crack of dawn again (this was on Day Five of the festival) and queue for tickets. I’d say the latter feeling cancelled out any bias from the former – but there you go. So having got the formalities out of way, let’s take a trip into The Borderlands.

With a title that consciously evokes William Hope Hodgson’s classic horror tale The House on the Borderland, I was expecting The Borderlands to take me into the realms of the supernatural, and it didn’t let me down. While nowhere near as trippy as that novel, it was still refreshing to see a horror movie with Catholic priest characters that seems to be taking its primary inspiration from the literature of H.P. Lovecraft, M.R. James and Algernon Blackwood rather than the usual touchstones of The Exorcist and The Omen.

Like Willow Creek, this is a ‘found footage’ movie that gets a lot of humour out its initial set-up. Here that humour comes principally from Robin Hill as tech expert Gray and his exchanges with Gordon Kennedy’s Deacon. Kennedy has a comic background as part of ‘90s comedy sketch show Absolutely, but here he plays the straight man to Hill and it’s wonderful to watch their scenes together.

One of the things that often hamstrings the credibility of ‘found footage’ movies is what I call the ‘camera question’. e.g. Why is Johnny still continuing to film the unspeakably horrific thing when he should be either a) dropping the camera and running away or b) dropping the camera and running to aid Barbara, who is  about to lose her face to a spiked tentacle.

First time writer/director Elliot Goldner’s script is acutely aware of the ‘camera question’ and extracts sly humour from answering it. Gray constantly berates Deacon for not wearing his headcam rig at all times, until it becomes habit and he, like the audience, simply forgets he is wearing it and just gets on with his business. There’s even a slightly jarring moment right near the end, when a panicky Gray takes the time to stop and set-up an aerial relay for the headcams so they’ll continue to record underground.

Where The Borderlands scores over Willow Creek is in the shift from the humour of the earlier scenes into the dread and fear of the latter half. It wisely keeps its powder dry when it comes to supernatural phenomena during the build up and utilises some excellent sound design to build up tension. The climax is both clever and effective, and I’ll not spoil it. This film pushes the boundaries (or perhaps that should be borders) of the ‘found footage’ genre: recommended.

[Rob notes: couldn't find a trailer for this one, surprisingly. Anyone care to track one down?]

3) Painless [Insensibles] (2012) – Spain – Dir. Juan Carlos Medina; Writ. Luiso Berdejo, Juan Carlos Medina

In the present day, David (Àlex Brendemühl – The Hours of the Day) discovers that he was adopted and only his true parents can give him the life-saving transplant he needs. This leads him to uncover a dark secret from the past: In 1931, a group of children born insensible to pain were incarcerated in the Canfranc asylum, high up in the Pyrenees, for study and experimentation. But what became of the boy Berkano (Tómas Lemarquis – Errors of the Human Body) and his fellow inmates after the Spanish Civil War?

The second Spanish film in this year’s top ten, Painless will inevitably be compared with Guillermo Del Toro’s Spanish Civil War set horror fantasies Pan’s Labyrinth and The Devil’s Backbone. It shares not only a fascination with 20th century Spanish history, but is also blessed with a director who has an eye for the beauty in the most horrific of moments.

It’s a shame that many Frightfesters will have put off going to see this film by the projection problems that dogged its first showing on the discovery screen. Unfortunately, the DCP (Digital Cinema Package) sent to the festival was corrupted and wouldn’t play properly. Kudos then to the Frightfest organisers for getting a replacement DCP sent over in less than 48 hours. They weren’t sure it was going to make it in time for the second screening, but thankfully it did.

This is a film with a dual time structure, both period and modern. It uses the tried-and-tested route of having a modern day protagonist who plays detective to reveal the secrets of the past which then play out as flashbacks. While it’s hardly unique in that respect, (see any number of movies from Citizen Kane through to A.S. Byatt adaptation Possession) it is unusual for the modern day framing story to be played for such high stakes.

Here the fact that Àlex Brendemühl’s David is dying and must discover the truth about what really happened in Canfranc asylum if he wants to live, gives the movie a great D.O.A.-style dramatic engine that turbo charges both parallel narratives.

Like its protagonist, Painless is absolutely passionate and unremitting in its commitment to uncovering the truth about Spain’s past crimes. It rejects any suggestion that we should let sleeping dogs lie. Here the ending is brutal, moving and tough as hell: Painless? Hardly, but this is brave and rewarding cinema nonetheless.

 

2) Cheap Th rills (2013) – USA – Dir. E. L. Katz; Writ. David Churchirillo, Trent Haaga

After being fired from his job, Craig (Pat Healy – The Innkeepers) is faced with the prospect of imminent eviction and having failed his wife and newborn child. While drowning his sorrows at a seedy bar, he runs into old friend Vince (Ethan Embry – Eagle Eye) who is similarly down on his luck. Their drunken evening takes a twist when rich couple Colin (David Koechner – Anchorman) and Violet (Sara Paxton – The Innkeepers) decide to involve the two friends in their crazy betting games. What starts out as innocent fun turns serious as the stakes keep increasing, and the sex and mind games begin.

Welcome to Global Austerity cinema… Who says Americans don’t get satire? In Cheap Thrills the contemporary American Dream is dissected with a razor sharp script to reveal the inequalities and class tensions writhing underneath.

Cheap Thrills is a twisted thriller that’s indebted to TV shows like Alfred Hitchcock Presents and Tales of the Unexpected and in particular to the Roald Dahl story Man from the South (adapted numerous times and the inspiration for Quentin Tarantino’s The Man from Hollywood segment in anthology film Four Rooms). But this movie takes the greed and desperation and devilish tempter figure of Dahl’s story and goes a stage further. It does this by aping and satirising the structures and formula of reality TV talent shows like X Factor and Strictly Come Dancing.

Here, before the competition begins we get the sob story backgrounds of both sacked father Craig and ex-con Vince. Then we meet the rich and powerful judges, Colin and Violet. Once the competition begins, the prizes and stakes gradually increase. We even get the moment when the contestants have to basically beg to be allowed to progress to the next round. And then there’s the mentoring of the contestants by the judges ahead of the final. It’s all there. Who would you vote for?

The script (by David Churchirillo and Trent Haaga) is the star here, but the ensemble cast perform it with glee and all four principal give awards-worthy performances. As funny as it is gripping, Cheap Thrills had me laughing out loud one moment and then squirming in my seat the next. A real audience pleaser, this movie may be cheap, but as promised, it definitely thrills.

 

1) We Are What We Are (2013) – USA – Dir. Jim Mickle; Writ. Nick Damici, Jim Mickle

The Parker family harbour a sinister secret: since the time of their pioneer ancestors, they have survived by cannibalism. After the death of their mother, teenage sisters Iris (Ambyr Childers – The Master) and Rose (Julia Garner – The Last Exorcism Part II) are ordered by their father Frank (Bill Sage – American Psycho) to carry out the killing rituals needed to provide for the family. As the two sisters are torn between rebellion and acceptance, evidence of the Parker family’s past crimes is found, and the authorities start to close in.

“What! A Hollywood remake at number one? Have five days of horror movies warped your critical faculties?” I hear you cry. But wait gentle reader, let me explain. For this is that rare exception to the general rule: a horror remake that surpasses the original. An English language re-interpretation of a respected foreign language title that is deeper and more intelligent than its source.

I confess that I very nearly gave this one a miss. While many of my favourite horror movies are remakes – Dracula (1958), The Thing (1982), The Fly (1986) – this year the likes of Texas Chainsaw 3D and Evil Dead, had given me remake fatigue. Also, Jorge Michel Grau’s 2010 Mexican original, was an Arthouse film that I respected for its craft, but wasn’t very keen on. It had a terrific sense of place and a nice central idea, but it coasted by on mood and pretty cinematography too much for my liking.

So when Frightfest organiser and esteemed horror critic Alan Jones told me a remake of a movie I didn’t like was one of the best films of the festival, my eyebrows shot up in disbelief. He saw this and fixed me with an Ancient Mariner stare: “Oh no… you HAVE to see it.” And I am thankful that I listened to him.

Director and co-writer Jim Mickle’s previous work was the vampire road movie Stakeland, a film that played like straight version of Zombieland. Too bleak to be a mainstream hit, it’s a good horror film that should be in every genre fan’s collection. However, with We Are What We Are, Mickle steps up to a whole new level.

This film is like an object lesson in how to remake/reboot/re-imagine a respected horror movie:

Take all the greatest strengths of the original and make that the skeleton to build your new interpretation around.

Here, Damici and Mickle take the original’s vivid rooting of the story in its locality (Mexican suburbia) and apply that specificity of focus to the new locale (rural trailer-park in New York State). Mickle also takes the strengths of the Arthouse approach: an unrushed pace, attention to character, and artful cinematography. He then weds that with taut storytelling.

Re-examine all the characters and if necessary invent completely new ones in order to properly create a fresh take on the original idea.

It’s a bold choice to completely change the central family dynamic from the original mother/son/daughter one to the remake’s father/daughters one, but it’s a choice that works, and gives the remake a very different feel and tone to the original.

Research the historical precedents and mythology behind the original idea and then use that to flesh out the background of the new movie.

Again, Damici and Mickle have really done their homework here. They’ve not just used cannibalism to create another family of grotesques like we seen in many horror films before. They’ve really thought about things like what it would do medically to a person if they lived on human flesh. They’ve also clearly researched instances of cannibalism in American History, and the infamous story of the Donner Party in particular.

Cast the movie with great care.

Michael Parks (From Dusk Till Dawn) and Kelly McGinnis (Top Gun) as might be expected, provide reliable support. It’s the likes of Bill Sage as the severe father, and Ambyr Childers and Julia Garner as the two daughters, that are the revelations here.

Not just a beautifully executed piece of genre cinema, but a beautiful film, period. If you only see one movie that screened at Frightfest 2013, that movie should be We Are What We Are.

This really is the end…

Many thanks to Alan Jones, Ian Rattray, Paul McEvoy, Greg Day and everyone behind-the-scenes who helped make Frightfest 2013 the huge success it was.

Thanks to the staff of the Empire Leicester Square for making us all so welcome.

Lastly, thanks to the family of Frightfest weekend passholders for making the festival what it is. A big ‘shout out’ to Simon, Jason, Arol, Stuart, Mike, Tim, Xav, Steven, Marco, Christine and Frightfest virgin Keith. See you all next year…

The September Speakeasy

Here we are and here we are and here we go…

AROOGAH! The September Speakeasy gets musical on your asses.

Our Fifty Second Flash Tracks Challenge is the fastest way of grabbing the info you need about the music we think you should be listening to RIGHT DARN NOW.

Rob reveals his secret past and present as a Big Country fan, and the boys unfeasibly decide to bring 20-sided dice into Studio 2 to sex things up a bit.

It can’t end well.

Links:

The Fifty Second Playlist:

and the two that aren’t Spotified, Mazzy Star and MDNGHT.

and some Big Country!

Harvest Home

Download: 15-harvest-home.mp3

The Seer

Download: 14-the-seer.mp3

Peace In Our Time

Download: 13-peace-in-our-time.mp3

One Great Thing

Download: 12-one-great-thing.mp3

East Of Eden

Download: 11-east-of-eden.mp3

King Of Emotion

Download: 10-king-of-emotion.mp3

Another Country

Download: 09-another-country-copy.mp3

Look Away

Download: 08-look-away.mp3

Last Ship Sails

Download: 07-last-ship-sails-copy.mp3

Wonderland

Download: 06-wonderland.mp3

Chance

Download: 05-chance.mp3

Save Me

Download: 04-save-me.mp3

Fields Of Fire

Download: 03-fields-of-fire.mp3

In A Big Country

Download: 02-in-a-big-country.mp3

In A Broken Promise Land

Download: 01-in-a-broken-promise-land-copy.mp3

25 Things You Might Not Know About Me.

A Friday listicle. Inspired by a Facebook invite from the lovely and talented Rachel Dove. An exercise in narcissism and navel gazing, and displacement activity while I edit the latest Speakeasy.

I spent my childhood in Cambridge and I now live in Reading, but at heart I am as I was born: a Walthamstow boy.
I married my college sweetheart. Yes, really.
It took me six goes to pass my driving test. Two weeks after I passed, we were on honeymoon: a driving holiday in Scotland. It’s amazing how you can focus when you need to.
Funnily enough, I hardly ever drive these days. I cycle instead. I wear neither lycra nor a helmet, choosing instead to watch where I’m going and to travel at an appropriate speed for the prevailing conditions, dismounting where necessary. It’s a policy that’s seen me right for the last 8 years.
My first trip to the cinema was to see a rerelease of Bambi. I was five. I screamed the place down, apparently.
My favourite cinema remains the one where I ruined that screening of Bambi; the Walthamstow EMD. It’s Grade 2-listed, with a beautifully elaborate Moroccan-style interior. My mum saw The Beatles there, back when it was the Granada, a variety theatre. It’s been closed for ten years, embroiled in a property wrangle with a dodgy church. That story is coming to a close. Hopefully soon Walthamstow will have a cinema again. I’ll make the trip back to home turf to visit it.
I am one of the few people in the country to still handle 16mm motion picture film on a daily basis as part of my job.
I am covered in nicks and tiny cuts from the edges and broken corners of 16mm film. Imagine a paper cut, twice as wide, that bleeds a lot more.
Other scars include an oval dimple on my right shin when I bashed it against the corner of a low wall when I was 10, a missing corner of my left thumb due to a squash-peeling incident, and a biopsy scar on my lower right back.
Regarding the biopsy. I suffer from a chronic (life-long) immune-system disorder called psoriasis. It causes over-production of skin cells, leading to unsightly “plaques”. It’s not pretty, but it’s also non-infectious. Famous people with the disease include writer Dennis Potter and director Eli Roth, both of whom have used their disease to inspire their work. Psoriasis has snuck into some of my writing too. Well, you should write what you know.
Regarding the thumb. I’m a great cook, although I’m famously clumsy in the kitchen. Show me a cook without scars, and I’ll show you someone who isn’t a cook. My signature dish: fish pie.
I grow my own potatoes, salads and herbs. It’s easy, and you get an extraordinary buzz from cooking with something you caused to come up from the ground.
To quote Saturday Kitchen: my food heaven would be a burger, preferably from Atomic Burger in Oxford. Food hell would be eggs. The very smell of an egg frying makes me feel ill. There are times when I have had to leave the room if someone starts eating eggs in front of me.
I was vegetarian for ten years. The turning point was a holiday in France, where all that was on offer was wet, sloppy omelettes or bread and cheese. I finally caved in on the last night, and had salmon with lentils in a seafood restaurant in Le Havre. I can still taste it now. A Proustian moment.
I spent two summers working in a beachside bar in Bournemouth, where I was at college. I ended up running the short-order kitchen. I fried a lot of eggs. It’s amazing how you can focus when you have to.
I was the voice of Lenin at a theatrical production in my first year at college.
I met Oliver Postgate, the creator of Bagpuss and Ivor the Engine, once at work. He was a delight, and kept doing the voices of the characters on screen. I got chills.
I met Ian Brown of The Stone Roses once at work. He was lovely. Humble, focussed and friendly. He even made his own tea, which really freaked out the runner on duty in the kitchen at the time.
It took me 44 years to pluck up the nerve to put any of my fiction writing up for public approval. In 18 months, I have a novel and a collection of short stories out there, as well as appearances in several anthologies, and a gig as a contributing editor at a small press. It’s amazing how you can focus when you want to.
My film work has been screened on the biggest screen in the UK and in film festivals across Europe. I am the proud owner of the award for Best UK Film at the 2008 Cambridge Super 8 Festival. I have not made a film in three years. That is likely to change soon.
I write for an ethical fashion blog. If you saw the way I dressed, you’d understand how funny this is.
Musically, I’m the kid with headphones on, recording bits of the John Peel show on a cassette deck in 1985. Cinematically, I’m in the back row of a sleazy horror/sf all-nighter at the Scala in King’s Cross, also in 1985. Bibliographically, I’m in Forbidden Planet on Denmark Street, or perhaps Dark They Were And Golden-Eyed on St. Anne’s Court. Your tastes get fixed at a certain age.
I’m a member of CAMRA, The National Trust and the Phoenix Picturehouse. I’m a member of the television and theatrical union BECTU. I have a library card, and I use it.
Alright, the nitty-gritty. I’m proudly and unapologetically left-wing, atheist, an Apple-user, pro free-speech, pro-choice. I believe you should marry the person you love if you want, whether the contents of their trousers matches yours or not. I don’t want the government up in my hard drives. Privacy is a right that I don’t want to see eroded. Hell yes, I have things I don’t want to reveal in public. Anyone that says they have nothing to hide is a fool and a liar. I believe that austerity politics is un-necessary, ideologically-driven and focussed on destroying everything that makes me most proud about this country. I think that focussing on the weak, vulnerable and easily-bullied instead of the banking bastards that got us into this financial hole in the first place is beyond despicable.
There’s a lot I’ve missed out of this list. That’s entirely deliberate.

Five Years Of Excuses And Half Truths

Doesn't time fly when you're having fun? We're having fun, right?

There's a good reason for the nostalgic mood in which I've found myself this week. According to my records (and a handily-timed mail from WordPress) the very first post on Excuses And Half Truths went out on August 30th, 2008, five years ago today. That first post was very much a “Hello, World” deal, a self-effacing and slightly sheepish greeting. Which was a bit odd, when you consider I'd been blogging for a little over four years at that point.

X&HT was an attempt to move up and on from Blogger, a platform that didn't suit the expanded remit I was looking for at the time. Inspired by a Warren Ellis post on creating your own stuff instead of link-blogging other people (the late-oughty version of the retweet) I decided that I wanted a site, not a blog. A showcase for my longform writing.

Reviewing the early days of any blog is an exercise in cringe. I was hardly a callow youth at that stage in proceedings, and yet I was still making some fairly fundamental errors. Making a big deal out of any site changes or tweaks to the sidebar, for example. This ignored two basic facts; that I was the only one remotely interested in reading about changes in functionality (I mean, if I had to point them out they can't be great, intuitive design, right?) and that as soon as I changed things around again, that particular post became redundant content. Mithering on about sidebars seems a bit pointless for a blog that hasn't had anything of the sort for over a year. Eesh.

The things that I noticed are the the things that didn't get written about. I'm not a confessional blogger, but there are allusions in the post to a tumultuous few years. My work situation, particularly in the early days of X&HT, was fluid and problematic, and I'd find myself working some very odd hours, largely on my own. It's been five years with more than its fair share of births, deaths, weddings and breakups. But these are private events. It's not my place to write about them, and I know full well that any blogger writes about the workplace at his peril. If you care to read between the lines, you can tell a lot about how my life's been going.

With five years of content, I must have written a few things that are worth a second look, right? Well, I hope so. The post that brings most visitors through the door isn't my finest bit of writing, by any means. It's this one, about O2's frankly bizarre site-blocking policy. It got linked to on Digital Spy, and still gives me a double-handful of hits per day. But we can do better than that.

So, shall we take a little stroll down memory lane, Readership?

 

To start, one from the very early days: September 2008. I was researching Phineas Fogg for that year's Nanowrimo: one of those half-finished projects that's still in the bank, a steampunk, feminist reworking of Around The World In Eighty Days. My research led me to one, very significant conclusion…

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2008/10/17/the-problem-with-phineus-fogg/

 

From March 2009, a piece on the shooting of my last Straight8 film, Time Out. Despite all the prep, this ended up being shot on the fly rather more than anticipated. They say any plan never survives first contact with the enemy…

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2009/03/21/considerations-on-the-shooting-of-a-straight-8-film/

And here's the aftermath. Not my finest moment…

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2009/07/30/straight-8-showing-your-mistakes-in-public/

 

In May my 2007 Straight8 film Code Grey was selected to be screened at the Cambridge Super 8 Film Festival. Here's the story of that screening, replete with special appearances from Leading Man Clive and Doco Dom.

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2009/05/04/i-promise-success-will-not-change-me/

 

I posted three articles at the start of 2010 about how humble items in SF became something else. The corridor, chair and door are potent objects in SF cinema and TV, becoming much more than set dressing or furniture. This is my favourite, but the other two are within a previous click and well worth a look.

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/01/23/the-chair-in-sf/

 

A month later, I had something of an epiphany, and realised something very profound about myself. The pleasingly strong response to this post told me the one thing I'd always hoped: that I wasn't a weirdo.

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/02/24/a-quiet-word-in-your-ear/

 

I'm ashamed to say I don't blog about food much any more. I love decent food writing: not recipes, but honest, enthusiastic prose about grub. I'm not good with recipes, and food bloggery in general is too focussed on pictures of the process. If I'm juggling knives, spoons and pans full of hot oil or boiling water, the last thing on my mind is taking photos, sorry.

However, there's the odd bit of food writing of which I remain very proud. Here's one on the strange concept of Food Hell…

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/02/24/a-quiet-word-in-your-ear/

One on the magic that happens when TLC and I collaborate on a meal:

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/08/08/collaboracooking/

This is The Greatest Sandwich In The World.

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/10/06/the-messiest-sandwich-youll-ever-eat/

A treatise on cookery shows that somehow ends up with a recipe for soda bread…

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2011/01/26/done-to-a-turn-the-things-tv-cookery-shows-get-right/

Finally, this, which tells you everything you need to know about how and why I cook.

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2007/08/07/notes-on-a-marriage/

 

This is… Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. You all know what a shaggy dog story is, right?

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/04/01/the-amazing-derek/

and while we're at it…

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/06/03/dont-think-ive-forgotten-about-you/

 

This piece, from May 2010 on Doctor Who and his companions, still gets an awful lot of love. Can't think why… (NSFW if looking at pics of a naked girl draped over a Dalek are frowned upon).

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/05/19/companion-piece/

With Frightfest still hopefully in people's minds, here's the list of my 15 Favourite Horror Things I put together for Halloween 2010. Still stands up, apart from my enthusiasm for the remake of Fright Night. Dunno what I was thinking of.

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2010/10/30/my-15-favourite-horror-things/

As the premiere of End Point is still buzzing in the back-end of my brainmeat (justice will be done on that once I've let the bubbles settle a bit) here's a post on the interview that was the hardest one to snag: an hour's chat with the justified and ancient Bill Drummond.

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2011/06/16/justified-an-interview-with-bill-drummond/

Finally, a dose of psychogeography from 2012, as Dom and I walk from the South Bank to the Thames Barrier. It's tougher than you think, certainly in the way we did it.

http://excusesandhalftruths.com/2012/01/30/road-less-travelled/

 

So, what next for Excuses And Half Truths? Well, I always enjoy the collaborative and guest posts from writers I respect like Kate Atherton, Simon Aitken, Chris Rogers and Leading Man Clive Ashenden. More like that coming, for sure (and if anyone else fancies putting something together, I'm always happy to host your work. Hit up the comments or contact form if you're interested). Speaking of Clive, the Speakeasy is finding its feet, its voice and its purpose, and will be running on a regular basis. Exciting things coming up on the podcast side of things over the next few months.

One last thing. That title. Why Excuses And Half Truths?

Well, at the time that I was thinking of starting the site up, I was listening to a lot of The Hold Steady, and in particular the epic track from their album Stay Positive, Lord, I'm Discouraged. One lyric popped out at me as the perfect way to describe the work of a writer, particularly one with an interest in fiction. That was the spark that fired me up into signing up with WordPress, building the site and ultimately to this point, five years down the line.

Join me, Readership, in raising a glass of (fortified) wine to the future. It's been a blast so far. Let's see what comes next.

 

 

My Top 5 Reading Festival Performances

Pic courtesy of Tom Downer’s Guitar Lessons Reading. Click the pic for more.

The Reading Festival is over for another year. TLC and I wandered down to Caversham for lunch yesterday, and found it looking like the aftermath of a hipster war. Casualties in wellies and shorts slumped on pavements, muddy, weary but happy.

It was not to be for us this year. There were plenty of individual acts scattered across the bill that we’d have liked to see, but we couldn’t afford weekend tickets and the prospect of nearly £200 for a day when we’d only really want to catch one or two bands just made the choice untenable. After last year’s mind-boggler of a day, it made sense to take a break.

I’ve been going to the Richfield Avenue site since 2005, the year after we moved to Dingtown. I don’t do it every year, but it’s always worthwhile when I do. Here are my top five acts from then till now. These are the memorable ones, the bright moments that always make me smile.

Pixies (2005)

This was my first year in Reading, my first time at the Festival, and due to circumstances beyond my control I was on my own. It was, to put it mildly, a strangely disconcerting experience. I was offered a spliff within half an hour of hitting the arena, and spent the day drifting from tent to main stage in a weird, dislocated haze. The weather was grey and drizzly in the morning, and it took me a while to get my festival head on.

When the sun came out for Elbow’s epic main stage debut, (supporting Leaders Of The Free World) I knew the day was improving significantly. The Queens Of The Stone Age and The Killers both delivered massive sets, but for me it was all about the bunch of slightly paunchy middle-aged Bostonians who ambled on stage without fanfare five minutes before they were supposed to and promptly blew the pointy top off the main stage.

Pixies had been part of my musical makeup since college, and to see them live was doubly amazing after they had split with such acrimony years before. They were affable, jokey, and absolutely at the top of their game. It was a greatest hits set, and one of the most intense 80 minutes I’ve ever seen from a Main Stage headliner. The hug Black Francis gave Kim Deal just before they finished up with the one-two knockout punch of “Hey!” and “Gigantic” still gives me prickles. Who says rock can’t cure all ills?

(bit of a cheat, this: I couldn’t find decent footage of the Pixies gig on the night. This clip from T In The Park gives you an idea of the flavour of the evening.)

Arcade Fire (2005)

The following day, I was joined by a crew which included TLC, Doco Dom, and my dad, who had gotten a ticket from us as a 60th birthday present. It was a full-on day, which included a monster set from Foo Fighters (of which more later), Dinosaur Jr and a Main Stage opener from Biffy Clyro, whose bass response was strong enough to knock Dad’s hat off. But there was one band I knew we had to see, and I made damn sure that Team Rob was together for it.

The Arcade Fire’s set in the NME Tent at Reading 2005 is widely acknowledged as their breakout moment. I can confirm that what we saw that afternoon was a band on the verge of going nuclear. The tent was packed, and the Fire spun through Funeral at a head-dizzying pace. Reportage from me:

This has the feel of a real event, and the Canadians do not disappoint. They launch into “Wake Up”, and everyone, strangers and friends alike, got their hands up and their voices high. The mood is joyous, celebratory. Any immovable object on stage gets used for percussion, including a crash helmet worn by the second guitarist. Mock fights break out on stage. There’s a newie or two, an oldie for the hardcore, and all the best bits of “Funeral”, which is, let’s face it, just about all of it, get fired off with a verve and energy that takes the roof off. Extraordinary. Transcendant. Everyone’s chuffed, and I quietly point out to Clare that this is the album I’ve been playing for months when she asks why she’s never heard of them. Band of the Festival. If they’re not on the main stage next year, a major injustice will have been done.

They weren’t, and I still don’t get why. There are reports of a new album dropping this year. Can’t. Fuffing. Wait.

(again, nothing from 2005 at Reading. This is from the TIM festival. Worth checking out the footage of when the Fire did finally headline in 2010, as well. Start here).

Pearl Jam (2006)

This was the band’s first headlining festival set since nine people had been crushed to death in front of them at the Roskilde festival in 2000. They were, understandably, nervous. Eddie Vedder’s first words to the crowd were to stay safe and look after each other. His trust in us as an audience led to one of the most extraordinary, emotional and uplifting concerts I have ever seen. A vast curfew-busting run through old songs, new favourites and covers from a band that sometimes seemed utterly overwhelmed by the waves of love coming at them from a capacity crowd. It’s often said that live music is a shared experience, a collaboration between band and audience that can lift both to hitherto uncharted places. The 2005 Pearl Jam set was one of those concerts. I feel a little tearful thinking about it even now.

Metallica (2008)

This was one of those happy accidents. I hadn’t planned on going to the festival that year, but was talked into it by my Uncle Doug, who was absolutely desperate to see Metallica. Doug Sampson is, for those of you know know their metal, a man with a place in rock history. He’s Iron Maiden’s first drummer, back when they were playing pubs and clubs in east London. The prospect of seeing Metallica with him was just too good to pass up. I was lucky enough to snag a couple of late tickets, and off we jolly well went.

The rest of the bill was, to be honest, fairly underwhelming. When comedy act Tenacious D end up second on the bill, you have to wonder what went wrong. But Metallica… well, they were a revelation. Tight as a squirrel’s nutsack, loud, precise and giving their all to an adoring closing-night crowd. This was not the band that had fallen apart so messily on screen during the filming of the Some Kind Of Monster documentary. This was a behemoth, a precision-tooled metal delivery system that had us all bouncing and bellowing. Storming stuff. I’ve been a fan ever since.

Foo Fighters (2012)

I’ve already documented our trip to the Reading Festival last year at length, but I would be a liar if I didn’t include their 2012 gig as not just one of the most memorable gigs of my life, but one of the most memorable events full stop. Full back-stage access, clean toilets, free booze–frankly it’s the only way to do a festival.

It was a strong bill, with powerful performances from The Gaslight Anthem, Mark Lanegan and The Joy Formidable. But it’s the Foos I’ll always remember. They’ve always been on top form at Reading, and this was the best I’ve ever seen them. I don’t say that lightly: I’ve caught the Foos at tiny fanclub gigs, at secret acoustic shows. It was on the Main Stage last year that they showed what they were made of. Rock, mostly.

The moment that shines for me was during “The Best Of You”, when the crowd roared the refrain back at them for a full minute. They shut off the kit and just listened. The noise was incredible, a physical thing that hit me in the guts, and brought tears pricking to my eyes. A raucous, celebratory night. The Reading Festival at its absolute best.

(That was shot by Clare. That’s how good a position we were in. Can you blame me for bragging?)

Favela Future: Dredd, Elysium and the ruins of the 21st century

Good science fiction is essentially a reflection of the times in which it was created.

Welcome to the world of tomorrow…

I couldn’t help but muse on that as I walked out into watery August sunlight, following a screening of Neill Blomkamp’s angry, political SF movie Elysium. It’s not a subtle piece, but then why should it be? It’s a parable with its roots in today’s societal structure. The super-rich have distanced themselves from the rest of us, and in Elysium they take the final logical step. They leave the planet altogether. They barely see anyone that’s not in their orbit as human.

The world they have left behind is not just in decay. It’s actively falling to pieces.  Blomkamp, who shot to fame with the crumbling ghetto landscapes of District 9, ups the ante here, and turns Los Angeles, the city of angels, into a stinking slum. It’s the sort of place that people will risk anything to escape.

Dystopia in SF is hardly new or original. One of the key formative texts in filmed science fiction is Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, set in a concrete hell of skyscrapers and pounding heavy industry. This, along with Chaplin’s Modern Times, keys into the common fears of that early quarter of the last century: what happens if industrialisation and automation runs amuck? As Lang’s characters become mere components in a machine, and the villain is revealed to be a robot, his visuals underpin the narrative explicitly. The settings are as important to the plot as Freder and Maria.

Crumbling infrastructure is more prevalent than pristine surfaces in filmed SF. In one way, it’s an aesthetic judgement; things simply look more interesting if they’re a bit battered and work-roughened. Take a look at the Star Wars universe, where everything is pitted, dirty and worn with use. In Elysium, and its thematic twin, Pete Travis’ Dredd, that judgement is part of the narrative. Megacity One doesn’t have the organically swooping towers and bulbous arcologies of the comics. Instead, it looks like a smog-choked Chinese city, thrown up in a hurry with any materials to hand.

There’s a common complaint with both films that the future doesn’t look futuristic enough. Elysium is set in 2154. Although undated in the movie, the universe of Dredd is set around the 2130s. And yet, the population still gets around largely on familiar cars and buses, and are dressed in a way that wouldn’t, for the most part, look out of place on the streets today. The opening sequence of Dredd involves a chase scene between the Judge and a bunch of miscreants in a VW camper van. If we extrapolate the gap betweens those films and us the other way, we’d be in the 1870′s when steam was the fastest way to travel, and flight was still decades in the future. Where, then, are the wonders of the future?

The wonders of the future

Well, apart from the fact that Elysium features a giant orbital habitat, and people-traffickers with spaceflight capabilities, the backwards nature of some of the tech is kind of the point. The poor, teeming masses in Travis and Blomkamp’s purgatorial megacities have to survive with whatever they can get their hands on. If that means retro-fitting old cars to get around, then so be it. These are effectively third-world urban structures. All the wonders of the future are either up in orbit, or blown away in a nuclear wind.

Kowloon Walled City

The point is that these cityscapes can’t easily be tied to one particular time. As we can’t accurately place them in the past or present, they are equally believable as a futurescape. This blurring of temporal boundaries is common in the built spaces of science fiction. Just look at Blade Runner’s retrofitted LA, with the skin of the new laid over the bones of the old, and arcologies that look as much like Aztec temples as they do science parks. Godard’s Alphaville was famously shot in contemporary Tokyo, scenery so otherworldly that it could be easily passed off to credulous 1960s audiences as another planet. Similarly, Michael Winterbottom’s Code 46 was partially shot in Dubai, a built environment that’s an alien intrusion to the sun-baked desert that it contains. I’m also reminded of structures like Kowloon Walled City, the slum/fortress in the heart of Hong Kong that, in the 60s and 70s, was the first real Dredd-style mega-block–a self-sufficient city within a city.

Using existing settings and vehicles isn’t just a matter of maximising budget. It’s shorthand, a way of showing the audience that sometimes, the future isn’t going to be as magical or overwhelming as we think. By using the slums of Mexico City and the streets of South Africa, the directors of Dredd and Elysium are keying into a deep history of corrupt governance and endemic poverty, and using t to underpin the stories they want to tell. When people look at our lives in the 21st century and ask “where’s my jetpack?” (it’s here, by the way) they aren’t seeing the whole picture. Huge chunks of the planet don’t even have decent access to clean water, let alone flying cars and robot coppers. Dredd and Elysium are using their dystopian settings to show that the future could be a lot more broken than we choose to imagine.

The End Point Of A Circle: Join The Spin!

I’m chuffed to be able to announce the date and venue for the World Premiere of The End Point Of A Circle. It’s been a long time coming. Dom first started filming for the project in 2009, and we’ve been interviewing and filming assiduously ever since. We’ve spoken to Gimpo every year, of course, but it’s been a tribute to Dom’s patience and tenacity that we’ve been able to chat to people like Iain Sinclair and Bill Drummond for the film.

Now, finally, we can show people what we’ve been up to. The End Point Of A Circle will premiere as part of the opening ceremony of the Portobello Film Festival on August 29th at the Pop-Up Cinema on Acklam Road, where the Westway meets the Portobello Road. Dom and I will be there to introduce the film, and we’re hoping that a special guest or two will join us.

Here’s the press release.

Since 1997, the M25 has been the subject, canvas and location of a unique and unfolding work of performance art. Gimpo, ex-roadie and factotum of Bill Drummond, has driven round the infamous London Orbital for 25 hours, once a year. He will continue to do so until 2021 on a 25- year mission of discovery.

He calls it The M25 Spin.

Documentarian Dominic Wade, who has already explored the world of extended filming with his raw and revealing film 24 Hours In London, has been given unprecedented access to Gimpo and his world in order to document The Spin. Dominic will be joining Gimpo and his crew every year until 2021 as they seek to find The End Point Of A Circle.

Gimpo is an unusual and endearing character, and he’s seen a lot in his many years on the road. He was one of the few witnesses to the K Foundation’s anti- art establishment actions, which led to the burning of a million pounds on the Isle of Jura in 1994. Bill Drummond accompanied Gimpo on the first Spin. Footage of that day was captured by Gimpo on VHS and will be included in the film.

The M25 Spin is part performance artwork, part club venue (the references to rave culture and its restless, mobile nature are clear) and part motoring oddity (it’s still possible to buy DVDs that are exclusively footage of a circuit of the M25. It’s entirely likely that Gimpo owns one of these tapes). Featuring interviews with Bill Drummond and Iain Sinclair, The End Point Of A Circle will document, embrace and eventually become part of the whole process.

Whatever else happens, The Spin will make a mark on its completion. Even if it’s just skid marks somewhere near Junction 27.

“You wanna know why the M25 Spin is 25hrs and not 24? Le Mans is 24hrs. I just want to be one louder.” – Gimpo

To give you an idea of what to expect, here are a few promos. The first is by Mark Sampson of Ironman Records, who attended the 2013 Spin (and made a great job of documenting it, by the way: http://ironmanrecords.net/2013/03/english-heretic-gimpos-m25-25-hour-spin-23rd-24th-march-2013/)

Next up, one Dom made a few years ago, that gives a good feel for the tone of the movie.

Finally, one from me. Bit more in the realm of a teaser, this…

For more on this year’s Portobello Film Festival, grab a copy of the official programme here.

Hope to see some of you in West London in a week or so!

Maladjusted: The Forgotten BGC Graphic Novel

Bubblegum Crisis is a series that’s sprouted more than one spin-off. From BCG 2040 to the AD Police prequels to the aborted live-action movie (that I would still pay good money to see), the Knight Sabers have been through a lot.

And yet, no-one talks about the graphic novel adaptation. Pushed out at the height of UK and US manga mania in 1994, Bubblegum Crisis: Grand Mal featured a script and art from Adam Warren, a man that had already had success adapting the Dirty Pair for the English-speaking market with his clean, detailed manga-influenced style. It was approved by Kenichi Sonoda himself. It should have been massive.

But somehow, it’s slipped through the gaps. It warrants one line in the BGC page on Wikipedia, and most fan pages don’t mention it at all. You can pick up mint copies of the trade paperback for a couple of quid.

So what the heck happened?

The book serves as an introduction to the world of MegaTokyo, and gets you up to speed fast. Warren’s cyberpunky, caffeinated style grabs you by the collar and yanks you in hard. It’s a high-dose, concentrated hit, mixing captioned “audio samples” and archival news footage with a Boomer’s raid on an abandoned building, finding and then losing the engine of the plot–an old hard drive holding details of a Genom “intellectual asset”. It’s dense, uncompromising storytelling, cramming swathes of detail into both art and narrative. You have to pay attention. This is Howard Chaykin’s American Flagg-level work, using every graphical trick in the book to fire the story forward, at the same time bopping back and forth in time to introduce the Knight Sabers, Genom and their nemesis, the mercenary Peter Vashnevskaya.

Vashnevskaya’s dry voice underpins the whole book, and he’s the focus that brings the many strands of the story together. A tragic figure, prone to seizures (the Grand Mal of the title) that cause rage-fuelled fugue states leading to blackouts and uncontrollably vioent episodes. If he’s alone, he turns that rage on himself. If not… well, let’s just say he doesn’t make friends. He’s a dark, conflicting character that you can’t help but root for, even as he half-kills Priss during a raid on the AD Police HQ.

Although the pace eases after the manic blipvert style of the first half of episode one, there’s no chance to really ever catch your breath. Grand Mal is a complex, twist-heavy tale. Skip a couple of panels and you might well miss something important. Warren’s art, always detail-heavy, is almost claustrophobic here. Every panel is jam-packed with cool bits of tech, neat character moments and a metric ton of in-jokes. The book feels heavy. It’s bulging with ideas. The dialogue is jargon-heavy, uncompromising. For a book that’s supposed to be an introduction to MegaTokyo and the world of Boomers, the Genom Corporation and four girls in hardsuits, it feels like you need to already know the world to get the most out of the book.

Perhaps that was part of the problem. If you’re not a fan of the world, Grand Mal can come across as dense, dark, unwelcoming. It’s violent, bloody and cruel, and utterly bewildering in places. It needs to be read at least twice before it really starts giving up its treasures, and even then you feel as if there’s more to discover. A lot of casual readers, I feel, simply didn’t have the patience to give the book the attention it deserves.

There’s little discussion online about the book, although a common grumble seems to be that it was “too Americanised”, and worse, that the characterisation of the Knight Sabers was completely wrong. The girls are certainly painted with broad strokes, Priss in particular coming across as a reckless rageaholic with a death wish. That being said, a different approach doesn’t necessarily mean wrong, just different. After all, there’s been more than one try at the animated version.

Ultimately, Grand Mal comes across as a book that’s easier to admire than love. Like Warren’s Teen Titan story, Scissors Paper Stone, there’s a darkness at the heart of the writing that could sour the experience a little if you’re not expecting a self-harming hitman or Priss in a wig and leather miniskirt. However, it’s intelligent, well-crafted and powerful, and plays with Sonoda’s world in ways that bring a whole new perspective to the origins of the Knight Sabers.  It’s tricky to see what audiences would have expected from an American version of the property, bearing in mind that Warren knew the material and had already done some pioneering work on bringing manga to an English audience. If they expected a dumbed-down introduction, they got the opposite.

Adam Warren now works almost exclusively on his own projects, notably the sharp superhero parody Empowered, which regularly faces down the ongoing arguments about sexism in comics with humour and grace. Lightening the tone has brought its own rewards, and Empowered is, frankly, one of the best books out there. It’s sad that its not better known. But then, Adam Warren himself seems to be one of the best-kept secrets in comics. That’s a real shame. His Dirty Pair books remain in print, and Empowered is onto its sixth edition. His work is well worth getting to know.

The August Speakeasy: Let’s Talk Film!

 

In the August Speakeasy, Rob and Clive are talking film. A lot. It’s our longest podcast ever and it’s jampacked full of goodness!

In our Fifty Second Flash Film Fest, we cram nine film reviews into under 8 minutes.

Clive gives us the lowdown on no-budget film-making, and shares some behind the scenes stories on his latest short, Acceptance.

Of course, we have all the recommendations for movies to see this month, and a heads-up for the greatest horror film festival on the planet: Frightfest!

 

Simon Aitken’s Modern Love: Contribute here!

Frightfest

 

As ever, if you have any comments or suggestions, let us know. Let’s keep the love flowing in both directions. Rivers of love. Tidal in nature.

Considerations on the announcement of a new Doctor

Doctor, Doctor, gimme the news…

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I was quietly amused by the people grumbling about the way the announcement of the 12th Doctor was made last night. A live extravaganza on primetime BBC? Why, in my day, you were lucky to get the “and finally” squib on the Nine O-Clock news! Don't you think it's all gone a bit far?

Well… no. Let's not forget that Doctor Who is as big now as it was in its 1960's heyday. It's a massive global phenomenon that makes the BBC an awful lot of money. It's coming up on it's 50th anniversary, and is watched by, on average, a third of the viewing public. I'd say that it's worth making a big deal once every few years when the lead character changes his face.

On casting Peter Capaldi. It's a heck of a good choice, isn't it? The right mix of gravitas, otherworldliness and capacity for shocking decision making. This is the guy that could have started the Time War.

He's not black, and he's not female. It would have made one hell of a point in the anniversary year to cast a Doctor that bucked the prevailing trend. It instantly opens up arenas to other kinds of stories, really playing with the issue of identity that's really at the heart of the character. To anyone saying that race and gender are not things to talk about in a kid's show: why not? If Doctor Who can discuss genocide, why not relevant issues to an audience that is, let's not forget, nowhere near exclusively white or male.

That being said, if you're going to cast to type, it's a shrewd move to go with a seven times-nominated, twice BAFTA-award winning, Oscar-owning actor who's a proved Who fanboy and will just happen to be the same age as William Hartnell come the 50th anniversary. You could do a lot worse. Remind me who thought the geek from the BT ads was a good choice in the face of that?

I'm excited, fascinated and intrigued by the notion of Peter Capaldi as Doctor Who. Matt Smith was a brave choice that really worked out, but an actor with Capaldi's stature and status is really going to make the show up its game. I'm expecting nothing less than greatness next year.