A slow burn of pure terror (spoilers included)

 

(SPOILER ALERT)

I was having trouble deciding whether to watch this brilliant Danish horror film, because I couldn't tell if it was sub-titled, or dubbed. Full disclosure, I am a bit of a snob when it comes to dubbing, and, in the words of the great Laemmle Twin arthouse theater in Los Angeles, I am "not afraid of subtitles". Turns out, that is one of the things that makes this film so effective: the two couples are from two different countries -- Holland and Denmark -- and, since neither speaks the other's native language, they communicate almost entirely in English.

And therein, as Hamlet would say, lies the "rub". Miscommunication lies at the heart of the story here, or, at least, if one couple understood better what the other was saying they might have not only extricated themselves, and their daughter, from a fate literally worse than death, but might have also avoided the somewhat horrifying social awkwardness that almost steals the show, here.

A couple from Denmark are vacationing with their daughter in Tuscany, and meet another couple (with an odd son) from Holland who are staying at the same Pensione or Villa. Really, things start going "bad" from the very beginning, as the Holland couple are just strange, and their son is unable to speak properly due to a tongue having been malformed (or cut out?). As one reviewer pointed out, the lengths to which the Danish couple will go to accommodate -- that is not embarrass themselves socially -- the weird Holland couple provides a horrifying reality that nearly overshadows the truly gruesome nature of the "big reveal" in the end.

For example, after being invited to stay the weekend with the Holland couple, upon their return, the Danish couple feel like they can't refuse. They say to one another, "how bad could it be?" Turns out, very bad. After making their way over eight hours by car (and Car Ferry) to the Holland couple's low-rent house in the Dutch woods, they are subjected to various social affronts, including having to watch the Holland couple do a very sexual dance in a sketchy Roadhouse (like something out of a Tobe Hooper or Rob Zombie flick), and having the Danish wife experience the other couple's husband doing "number one" in the bathroom while she is taking a shower.

The plotting of Speak no Evil is so effective that, about halfway through the film, enough is enough and the Danes escape at dawn, only to return to retrieve their daughter's seemingly lost stuffed bunny. This is the classic horror movie trope where the protagonists go toward the axe-wielding villain, not away. Here, awakened, the Holland couple confronts them and puts social pressure on them to stay. Uh, oh.

From here things go downhill fast. That night the Danish father discovers a cabin where the souvenirs from previous victims -- cameras, camping equipment -- are hanging like trophies, and then comes across the Holland couple's son, Abel floating dead upside down in a hot tub. It all becomes very clear, very quickly that the Hollands are a serial killer couple, who maim and kidnap other couples' kids, and kill the adults. Within only a few minutes of the film's elapsed time, their daughter is seized and mutilated by a mysterious third stranger, and the couple are stoned to death in a lonely quarry. That's it, end of story.

Or is it? The last scene has the Holland couple, now with the dead Danish couple's tongueless daughter driving up a hill to a classic Italian villa, searching for their next victim.

Yikes.

Sort of a deconstructed "Stand by Me"

 

I am not a big fan of Blumhouse, mainly because, based on critical and fan ratings, most of their films don't seem to be very good. I have watched a few, and that is the impression that was confirmed when I did.

The Black Phone, however, is a whole nother story. Literally. Based on a short story, this unique thriller-horror entry focuses almost exclusively on the POV of the young people who are affected when the Serial Killer known as "The Grabber" is wreaking havoc on Suburban Denver in the not so recent past.

A word about the Killer. I will literally watch anything that Ethan Hawke makes, and this is no exception. Hawke can do Drama, Comedy, High Arthouse and Horror equally well. Even though I agree that Sean Penn is probably our best American actor, Hawke is probably our most versatile. Here he chews the scenery as the mask-wearing Grabber who seems just crazy enough to drive around in a "raper van" wearing a magician's top hat (and, strangely, not get noticed); and just deadly serious enough to grab young men and keep them in his basement until he is ready to kill them.

The latter is not a spoiler, as the main plot of The Black Phone concerns a young man named Finney-- very well played by Mason Thomas -- who is trying to navigate Adolescence while also trying to avoid being grabbed. Unfortunately, he is, and the heroism he shows in trying to escape is aided by a strange phone which allows him to receive calls from The Grabber's previous victims. The top notch ensemble cast of young actors and actresses, and the storyline concerning their adolescent dreams and desires layered over the riveting Silence of the Lambs style hunt for The Grabber makes for some good film-making.

Based no the POV I was reminded of the iconic Rob Reiner film "Stand By Me" based on a Stephen King (novel?) and thought that The Black Phone kind of deconstructs that film. In Reiner's film, a group of chums growing up in a rather innocent small town in Maine discover a dead body, in The Black Phone, the time and place are less innocent, and the kids basically have to save themselves. If they can.

Kudos to the various adult actors, including the always wonderful Jeremy Davies as Finney's alcoholic, child-abusive Dad. If you have never seen Davies's weird but wonderful performance in Stephen Soderbergh's Solaris, check it out. Or just check out Solaris, because it is excellent.

More atmospheric than scary. But, that's good.

 

J.A. Bayona is in the news a lot lately because he is a key figure in the new Lord of the Rings series on Amazon. Depending on your point of view (expecting to love it, expecting to hate it, etc.) that might lead you to, or push you away from, this atmospheric thriller/horror entry set in a remote area of Spain.

I had seen this before and decided to watch again, and had the same reaction. When the kid disappears, what starts as a straight-up horror film morphs into a thriller. Or does it? The conclusion (no spoilers) reminded me of why I liked it the first time. I'm not giving anything away by saying this is a "surprise ending" story, like The Sixth Sense, or The Others. But the surprise comes pretty much out of Left Field.

The framing tale involves an Orphanage in a creaky old house on the Coast of Spain. Not the sunny, Ibiza coast in the Mediterranean, but the creepy Coast farther North, I think. A young girl is adopted out of this seemingly forgotten children's home, and years later she, her husband, and their adopted son return to try to turn the former Orphanage into a home for developmentally disable children.

But, as is said, the kid disappears, and sets in motion a frantic search, months of waiting, and, eventually, the desperate, trope-y hiring of a Paranormal expert to try to determine if the ghosts of dead children are haunting the house. Think Stephen Spielberg's classic Poltergeist, but in Europe.

What happens next, as I said, would spoil it if you plan on watching. If you love ghost stories, thrillers or horror films you many or may not like this mélange of all three. I know I did.

The Fluidity of Gender?

 

It is possible to ask whether a film can be "important" and also ask that it be well-made. It might even only be useful to ask the latter question, but, where "The Sound of Identity" is concerned, the former almost over-shadows the latter. But not completely.

TSOI is certainly important, as the documentary concerns the US debut of Trans Opera Singer Lucia Lucas in, of all places, Tulsa, Oklahoma. Full disclosure, lo these nine years I am a happy transplant to  this surprising city, and in rooting for it events like Lucia's role as Don Giovanni have a special place in my heart. Leaving that aside for a moment, I think the film is broadly important at a time when LGBTQ+ rights -- so hard won in recent decades -- are under attack. In particular in the same state where Tulsa is located.

And, it is well made. Despite some perhaps unnecessarily long sections -- the scene at a favorite Japanese Restaurant, Jinya, comes to mind -- the technical accomplishments of the film are solid. Camera work is very good, and overall the Editing works. There is a lot to cover in a film that is both about what it means to be Trans, and what it means to play Don Giovanni.

But ultimately TSOI is about Lucia, and Lucia is a special person. As with Trans people I have known, she is supremely self-confident to the point of having literally no (blank)'s to give what you think of her. Why would she, given the courage she has shown both in being true to herself and undergoing a very difficult transition. 

She is also not a bad singer, as the film shows in small, and large ways. Hearing her warm up and rehearse it is clear she is the real deal, which is not easy to be in the small and colloquial world of Opera. What is remarkable is her taking on one of the great roles in all of Opera, Don Giovanni. As is pointed out, Giovanni is the supreme example of "toxic masculinity" while himself having a fluidity to his gender that makes having a Trans singer attempt it all the more fitting, and ironic.

The build-up to the Performance is a steady drumbeat, involving the "PR" aspect of Trans, Tulsa, Mozart. At the same time Tulsa Opera is a business, and if they don't sell enough seats they will lose money on the Opera, regardless of how many Karmic points they score. Personal details like Artistic Director Tobias Picker's own history as a Gay man growing up with Tourette's Syndrome are very powerful. You can't make this stuff up, folks.

This adds a certain non-Operatic drama to the story which makes the overall effect of The Sound of Identity quite pleasing. No matter which way you net out on Trans rights, or even Opera, this is a well made documentary, and worth the watch. Currently streaming on Showtime Anytime.

When's that baby due?

 

Well, well well. I had read some fairly negative reviews of this mildly insane thriller from Ex Machina and Annihilation helmer, Alex Garland. And some reviews that proclaimed it "important" as a feminist "Get Out".

Yeah, it is something. Not sure what, though. Garland is a skilled film-maker, so, as a piece of film craftpersonship "Men" is solid, if not excellent. A perfectly self-contained story, set in a trope-y English country village, with good acting by Jessie Buckley and Penny Dreadful's Rory Kinnear. Its like a good Crème Brule or something.

But, did I want Crème Brule? Or, did I even want desert? The problem with "Men", if there is a problem, is that it appears to be a scathing (withering?) indictment of Toxic Masculinity, perhaps along the lines of the equally insane "Titane" by Julia Ducournau. Or a deconstruction of hetero-normative relations, like the moderately insane, and brilliant, "The Lobster" by Yorgos Lanthimos.

Buckley plays a youngish Londoner who has escaped to the Countryside to mourn (?) the death of her Husband. Said death is told in flashback scenes of increasing depth that attempt to frame the current story, which starts out creepy and just goes downhill from there.

She arrives at an English Country house owned and Airbnb'd by the buck-toothed Jeffrey, played with scenery-chewing relish by Kinnear. As Jeffrey shows our heroine around the home, he seems just a bit too familiar, a bit too awkward and way too toothsome.

The expressionist hair and makeup for Jeffrey pre-sages one of the more harrowing techniques in the film. All of the male characters -- the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker (no really, the bar owner, the priest, the cop, etc.) -- are all played by Kinnear. In order to not make that too obvious, each character has some over the top aspect of their appearance that seems to initially set them apart. With Jeffrey, the teeth. With the Priest, the hair.

This all becomes problematic when she encounters a young punk of a boy that seems to have had Kinnear's face painted on him with CGI. That is either very scary or very hilarious. And how you view that will largely determine how you judge "Men." The Third Reel asks the viewer to believe, in fact, that all of "the men" she has encountered -- and, who all seem to want to kill her -- are actually the same man.

Is this some fever dream as she wrestles with guilt over hubby's death (no spoilers)? Or, do quiet English villages actually feature, many worlds style, multiple versions of the same toxic male, who all want to kill our heroine? These questions, and more, may be fun to ask. Again, depending on your view of Garland's film.

The Many Worlds Theory

 

I have been dabbling lately in the current state-of-the-art in Quantum Physics - a little thing I like to call the "Many Worlds" theory. Ha ha.

I have been reading, though, about Everettian mechanics, and getting my head pretty blown. Basic idea is that given the messiness of Quantum Physics, the only way to fix it is to posit that measurement of anything, including sub-atomic particles, creates an infinite number of branches, or worlds. Not necessarily "timelines" as SciFi likes to theorize.

So, what a diversion this ambitious, yet somewhat confusing take on, well, Reality is. Critics ranged from raving praise to dubbing Belgian helmer Jaco Van Dormael's perhaps overlong meditation on time, space and love a complete waste of time. But, with Many Worlds, time can't really be "wasted". See how I did that?

Oscar-winner Jared Leto is pretty good as Nemo Nobody, a 118-year-old man reflecting on his life, and most importantly on the decisions he made that created his own "branch". Most of this in an unchallenging heteronormative fashion involves which girl he chooses, or doesn't chose to spend his life with. Nobody, you see, is the last living mortal person alive at a time when mortality has been nearly wiped out by infinite cell regeneration. But, that's for another film. Really, as Dormael spends literally no time explaining how the world got to where it is.

The risk of such a far-reaching premise is that it collapses under its own weight -- which the film ultimately doesn't -- or that you never get "everything explained" in the end, as in the Big Reveal. Did Nobody actually live two, or even three simultaneous existences? Is it possible to wind Time backward once the Universe reaches its fullest Big Bang expansion?

Alas, these big questions aren't really answered. But the Ride is pretty entertaining thanks to some of best Film Editing you'll ever see. A team of Editors (I think including Dormael) must have worked for months to splice together the multiple threads of the story. If, a la Christopher Nolan, you are a fan of film technique then Mr. Nobody is for you. If you want your stories a bit more well-explained, and wrapped up, then you might pass on this one.

Or, maybe the Branch You doesn't pass on it. Ha ha. Sorry...

Love and (Not) Rockets

Well well well. Perhaps the long-in-the-tooth Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has some life after all. I have read recently that Disney has milked the legendary comic book-cum-film franchise, quite literally, to death. In the name of profit, perhaps.

Once again, the great Taika Waititi saves the day.  It wasn't that long ago that the MCU -- with Disney only recently having bought Marvel Studios -- was gasping a bit for air. Enter half-Maori (Te-Whanau-a-Apanui) creative Waititi who sends us Thor-Ragnarok, which was not only a stunning visual entertainment, but funny in only the way Taika can do funny. I can't even say "Korg" without laughing.

Thor: Love and Thunder has perhaps toned down the dire stakes and visual feast of Ragnarok, in exchange for an intimately personal story about love, family...and of course Thunder. And it is damn funny. Who else would have one of the central narratives of the story be a a God weapon that is jealous of another God weapon, so much that its God-owner, Thor, has to coo to it to make sure it doesn't emit a "janky Bifrost" (LOL) at a key moment in the story.

And the story here is that Thor, wherever he is on the rather complex timeline of the MCU has been languishing and growing a "Dad bod" as he pines for his lost friends, and most importantly, is lost girlfriend, Jane Foster. All is certainly not well, but to steal a phrase from a Shakespeare professor I had at Cal State Northridge, we do need a real "threat" to move things along.

Enter a God Assassin, played with scenery-chewing relish by Christian Bale. Purely out of spite against Gods, he not only threatens the Universe, but does so while kidnapping a bunch of kiddoes from the village/themepark thingy that Ragnarok has become after its destruction in...well, I forget which MCU entry managed that neat trick. That's it, that's the setup.

The storylines mostly concern those that have loved, and lost. In particular Thor and Jane. What Thor doesn't know -- what he can't know -- is that Jane has Stage 4 something-Cancer and is not well. But, she manages to get Thor's Hammer to reassemble and literally becomes Thor, while Thor himself settles for a second rate weapon, nonetheless forged out of a dying star, or some such MCU nonsense.

Following a brief, and perhaps unnecessary detour to visit the rotund Zeus, played by the rotund Aussie actor Russell Crowe and steal Zeus's Thunderbolt (oh, I see what you did there, Taika) the apocalyptic scene plays out in due course. And, things end in both a satisfying, and sad fashion. No spoilers.

Overall, Thor: Love and Thunder delivers the kind of action, visual spectacle and humor that we have come to expect from some entries in the series (Guardians of the Galaxy, anyone?). And of course it has Korg, which is worth the price of admission.