It Follows

It Follows

Directed by David John Mitchell

100 minutes

It Follows (David Robert Mitchell) is a new horror film that’s found much attention in its explicit and terrifying context. Directed and written by David John Mitchell, the premise comes from a recurring nightmare he had, whereby someone is following him. In much the same way the main character Jay (Maika Munroe), and somewhat ‘final girl’ becomes trapped inside her own nightmare. This is when Jay sleeps with boyfriend Hugh (Jake Weary) who passes on a sort of STD. Jay becomes plagued by strange visions and like Mitchell’s dream someone follows her.  The carrier can only see the follower(s) and break the curse by sleeping with the next person, exactly what Hugh had done. This proves difficult and challenging since the followers evoke personal trauma to the beholder. The social commentary is what makes this a disturbing experience. The bodily associations such as STD’s that could occur from a ‘one night stand’ or the darker monstrosities like rape and molestation are all very real. This is fused with tragedy, which makes you have empathy and connect to these cases. Jay’s followers are either sinister or victims themselves. Physiological scenarios like mental illness or the battered wife syndrome are cases we understand and handled with thought and respect. Besides, it has been awhile since these themes have been tackled in the horror genre in such a delicate way.

As it turns out though, I found myself enjoying the ambience, more.  It Follows is a minimal, yet pretty grim film but violence and past trauma are only implied. Mitchell, much to my delight distances himself from the “splat pack” (a term associated to directors such as James Wan), but recreates his own version of John Carpenters, Halloween (1978). In the lead-up and night of Halloween, a follower prowls a neighborhood. The follower (Mike Myers) is not a disease, but someone sick. A monster Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) sees and not till the very end others see him, too. In much the same way, Laurie is a final girl, needing to overcome the (masculine) nightmare.

The use of wide shots, voyeurism, and hand held camera not to forget the stripped back and effective score makes this a very haunting and realistic experience. What It Follows manages to do differently, is take out the slasher madman element and present taboos. Even though, Myers does present a form of societal monster, the film is very traditional to the slasher genre and doesn’t budge in that regard. In much the same way, Jay as a final girl is quite different to Jamie through appearance and being sexually active. This is a great juxtaposition, since traditionally, final girl’s don’t have sex. Jay is a beautiful concoction of a victim and an aggressor, with much vulnerability and trauma but at the same time strength and power to overcome her nightmare.

It Follows is a subliminal film that does feels like being, perhaps inside Mitchell’s recurring nightmare. It is very floaty and ambiguous and has the sort of sexual energy of Twin Peaks (Mark Frost, David Lynch 1990). This is not flawless but pretty close to the mark. It does feel like, It follows over stays its welcome, again the more I think about it, the more it works as an anti- narrative that doesn’t give you the answers. Perhaps, because of its dream like narrative there are some awkward moments that don’t seem to work or make sense. However, if you stay with the film then this incoherence and eclipses, kinda work. Meaning, this is a film that can be reevaluated in a different context, or soak up its fragmented truths.

Jacob's Ladder

Jacobs Ladder

Directed by Adrian Lyne

113 minutes

If you’ve heard of the phrase Jacob’s ladder, then this gives you some kind of meaning to the film of the same name. Jacob’s Ladder (1990, Adrian Lyne) is a physiological horror with Tim Robbins playing the character, Jacob Singer. The film starts in the Vietnam War where Jacob is an American Solider. Visually and acoustically the film hasn’t dated, it is pretty damn menacing. Comrades are shot, if not wounded, while Jacob himself, is stabbed in the stomach with a bayonet. At this stage it seems logical to make the assumption Jacob is dead or at least, rescued. Flash forward to a little later, and it is 1975. Jacob is still alive and sitting on a subway wearing a New York postal uniform. As he tries to leave the subway in a normal, orderly fashion the station becomes a series of endless tunnels. Jacob cannot find his way out and is nearly killed (again) by a train. Every event now, in Jacob’s life is fighting and coming to terms with his presence state.

One-way of looking at Jacob’s Ladder is through time and the characters who define that. Jacob at present lives with his girlfriend Jezzie (Elisabeth Pena). Jacob is a post traumatic solider with a guilty conscience and Jezzie is unsympathetic towards Jacob’s panic attacks, which is a little odd. But then, in different stages of time, as in the past, Jacob was married with children and talks about Jezzie as a made up character from his dreams. This is confusing when these truths occur in the narrative space. But after a while you learn that Jacob has a cloudy mindset and cannot distinguish between past and present. In one tensely present moment, Jacob witnesses his friend blown- up, but his friend has already been killed in Vietnam.

Jacob’s Ladder is a bombarded with flashbacks and psychological black outs, once you get used to, it gets tedious. It also requires you to go with the narrative and trust Adrian Lyne like you would with David Lynch. But unlike the dream like nature of Lynch it is quite heavy handed and leaves you with too much closure, not to mention any opportunity to be symbolically charged or get its point across. Lyne takes on mental illness through posttraumatic stress, which is nuanced and convinced through Robbins. Sometimes you feel sorry for Jacob and then other times, he’s selfish, absolving his grievances.

This is a film that uses a twist to resolve and add closure. Whether this is clear, or not, it got to the point that it lost impact and boredom comes. When you step back a little and revaluate Jacob’s Ladder in today standards, not that films these days are employing the same mindfuck style (yes, it is a genre!), it has dated. Personally, we’re too savvy for Jacob’s Ladder. In the sense, too prepared. I mean watching Fight Club (David Fincher, 1999) or The Sixth Sense (M. Night Shyamalan, 1999) now, I recon I would get the ‘twist’ better than when I first saw these films at the time of release. Perhaps because of this I battled to fully enjoy Jacob’s Ladder and know to never trust a character with a cloudy personality or a narrative that isn’t in chronological order. Dead give away!

A Girl Who Walks Home Alone at Night

A Girl Who Walks Home Alone at Night

Directed by Ana Lily Amirpour

99 minutes

A Girl Who Walks Home Alone at Night (Ana Lily Amirpour, 2014) has been tagged the “The first Iranian vampire Western”, director Ana Lily Amirpour has no trouble bringing Lynch and Jamursh-isms to screen, but at the same time, this is exclusively fresh.

Arash (Arash Mrandi) belongs to the film’s bleak industrial setting, known as “bad city”. He’s a good-looking James Dean- esque figure with a slick convertible and a lonesome swagger. Although Arash doesn’t give change to the local street kid (Milad Eghbali), claiming his money has been spent on his car, Arash is a nice guy who looks after his junkie father (Marshall Manesh) and tubby cat. Arash comes into contact with the film’s antagonist, the town’s vampire. The vampire (Sheila Vand) known as, “The Girl” resembles a vintage Natalie Wood that works as a moral guider, removing badness from the town. Eventually Arash and the girl fall in love.  Their first affectionate encounter is demonstrated listening to a 80s synthy record and a disco ball flickering. Showing their love is telepathic than words. Although, Arash is no step closer to finding out the girl is a vampire he takes the next step towards their relationship and his father’s drug abuse.

A Girl Who Walks Home Alone at Night is minimal and relies on familiarity. When I was watching this I could see Lynch’s surreal industrial world in Eraserhead (1977), or as much the nightmarish mood he does so well. Adding to this is the existential character that belongs to the frontier like William Blake (Johnny Depp) in Dead Man (1995) or the romanced bound vampires in Jarmusch’s Only Lovers Left Alive (2013). While this is a great use of congealing these directors and using black and white timelessly and aesthetically pleasing, at times it felt that A Girl Who Walks Home Alone at Night is more interested in ticking the right boxes in the art- house department and came across as a postmodern redux. This is because the film is unique, when it isn’t Lynch or Jarmusch and really elevates its awesomeness through the senses. Again highlighting the moment between Arash, the girl and the 80s synth, this is such an affective moment without words or sexually contact. The scene is a full embodiment experience that leaves you feeling their desire and your body tingling. The choice of 80s beats resembles nostalgia, taking you too a scenario that can be relayed or only dreamt off. This is what A Girl Who Walks Home Alone at Night does exclusively well. 

It also ticks the right boxes in cultural coding, such as the girl’s androgynous body, which challenges gender compared to the voluptuous Atti, (Mozhan Marno) in heels and a dress.  Equally, Arash’s white t-shirt is simple yet a statement in itself, bringing the idea of youth culture from the 50s and anti conformity, which both these character’s address. These ideals make it up to you to work out, like codes of the past. Just like deciphering an American Apparel advert, it could mean obviousness, or subtleties, making this the coolest place to dance too, or the worse place to come down from.

Bicycle Thieves

Bicycle Thieves

Directed by Vittorio De Sica

93 minutes

Bicycle Thieves (1948) directed by Vittorio De Sica belongs to the Italian neo realism movement (others include Roberto Rossellini, Luchino Visconti, Michelangelo Antonioni and Federico Fellini), a movement addressing the poor and social conditions post World War 11 and guerilla film techniques, such as location shooting and the use of unprofessional actors. Although, Italian neorealism declined in the early 50s, Antonioni and Fellini continued to explore these themes in their work. The movement was also a major influenced on the French New Wave.

Bicycle Thieves is pretty much as the title suggests, thieves that steal bikes. Main protagonist Antonio Ricci (lamberto Maggiorani) has a wife, Maria (Lianella Carell) and son, Bruno (Enzo Staiola) and like the rest of the community, is poor. Through the narrative’s glimmer of hope, Antonio get’s an opportunity to work for the government, meaning decent pay.  However, this job requires a bike. Even though Antonio doesn’t own one Maria and Antonio sell their bed linen to raise enough money to buy a secondhand bike and make it happen. Antonio is successful in the interview and start’s the job, the next day.  However, the glimmer of hope is thwarted when Antonio’s bike is stolen. The Police are unable to provide relief, nor is the thief caught. Bicycle Thieves is a journey into a series of unfortunate events and darkness.

Vittorio De Sica visionary is natural and grim, watching Bicycle Thieves felt like a social statement and concept, than following a classical structure. However, Lamberto’s acting is not flat, and there is a slow progression to his character. Antonio goes from showing hope prior to the news of getting the job, into deterioration where he stalks an old man and falsely accuses a stranger to the point of collapsing. Antonio becomes so obsessed with the ideal of having money it turns him into the perfect concoction of despair and insanity. Then, the film’s finale conclusion, Antonio is the thief himself. Although Antonio is believable, the situation and characterisation does come across as quite dramatic, this serves the film better as a social statement than perhaps and believe it or not, naturalism. Equally, you feel sorry for Antonio initially but when he becomes a thief himself, it changes the way you had previously emphasized with him, challenging the scenario and the film’s outcome. Adjacent to this, one of the more sincere and sad moments is a restaurant scene between Antonio and Bruno. The scene demonstrates the splitting in rich and poor. Antonio rules out hope of getting his bike back and decides to drown his misery spending the little money he has with Bruno. The tragedy comes when Bruno is unable to use the restaurant’s cutlery. The scene is problematised by a middleclass boy around the same age using knifes and forks confidently sneering at Bruno.

Bicycle Thieves is a beautiful but sad film, one of those key essential landmarks to cinema. This is not a film that has dated over time, or ambiguous as to why Bicycle Thieves should be regarded as important viewing. Knowing there is no hope to the community, De Sica has created, is quite hard to watch. The constructs of reality and bare cinema techniques is a statement in itself and at the same time makes this a pleasure to watch.

Fish Tank

Fish Tank

Directed by Andrea Arnold

123 minutes

Fish Tank (2009) directed by Andrea Arnold is one of the more refreshing narratives I have seen, no clichés or judgments, just honesty.

Fish Tank focuses on Mia (Katie Jervis), an angsty teenager who goes between home and the streets. Mia lives with her single mother Joanne (Kierston Wareing) and younger sister Tyler (Rebecca Griffiths). They drink and use the word, cunt a lot. Partly the joy here, and in particular British cinema is hearing cunt on a regular basis. Cunt may still be considered offensive but through repetition, cunt has become just another word like “fuck” stripping its power in a liberal sense, and bringing the connotation into different perspectives. For example, the Scottish use it as a friendly gesture, e.g., “You cunts want a drink”and would be great to hear more often in cinema. At the same time though, I’m skeptical when cinema, ups the ante on the swear factor, or moments that looked like a setting from a British reality show, showing a working class family about to have a much-needed makeover for the viewer to look down on the family and judge them. Fish Tank doesn’t do this, nor use dialogue in a gratuitous way. Visually it does have a slice of life, fly on the wall feel to it, but it is respectful not like a typical make over show. There are no socially awkward moments or close ups of cellulite, Arnold observes the family like they’re her own and equally characters she knows little about.

Fish Tank is a minimal but dark narrative. Joanne’s boyfriend Connor (Michael Fassbender) is a mixture of being younger than Joanne and too old for Mia. Fassbender is perfect, playing the role of the boyfriend and father figure, switching between these traits in the most creepy and desirable ways. But when Mia’s street friend Billy (Harry Treadaway) threatens Connors’ masculinity, Fish Tank goes into risqué territories. A boozy night turns into a sexual encounter between Connor and Mia. At first, this encounter comes across as blissful seeing Mia sexually fulfilled, but could also be interpreted as child abuse, but knowing this is a journey for Mia, Fish Tank conjures something cinema is limited in, female sexuality. If this were presented in mainstream cinema, the teenage girl would be vulnerable and it would be stripped of being equally, a perpetuator. Fish Tank, illustrates female sexuality exists, and should be taken serious.

For me, the most enjoyable moments were the street aspect. Dance and hip-hop is a way Mia aids her teenager and home life. Arnold isn’t interested in redemption or putting a positive spin to a poor community. This is not your, from rags to riches cliché, or a film designed for fortunate folk to get better understandings of the streets. Complimenting the vibe and attitude here, is its soundtrack. A touching moment Mia shares with Joanne through artist Nas (a poetic rapper) is a perfect example of the subtly and vision this film has.  Joanne dances to one of Mia’s cd, which happens to be “Life’s A Bitch” (Nas), stating, “It’s alright”. Joanne’s acceptance of the song can be compared early when mainstream rapper, Ja Rule is playing on Joanne’s TV, his music conjures a different attitude and perhaps some of the (gangsta) clichés in hip hop. “Life’s A Bitch” articulates the family’s struggles and habitual lifestyle. The use of hip hop, and in particular Nas demonstrates the positive understandings of the genre socially and politically, in the wrong hands any old song could have been used and given an entirely different perspective, but instead Joanne and Mia are able to communicate and show their love for each other.