Film Review: Ringu

"This Kind Of Thing... It Doesn't Start By One Person Telling A Story. It's More Like Everyone's Fear Just Takes On A Life Of Its Own..."

Before the mighty highbrows of Hollywood decided to make a quick and easy buck by exploiting the majestic minds of foreign filmmakers with trashy English-speaking reincarnations of particular works, there was a time in which both the Japanese and South Korean horror genres produced some of the most impressive examples of the genre including Dark Water, A Tale of Two Sisters and perhaps most famously, Ringu, the Hideo Nakata directed adaptation of Koji Suzuki 1991 novel of the same name. Brought back to the big screen this week for a special 4K restoration, Nakata's iconic 1998 horror thriller remains to this day a work of chilling paranoia, one which on repeat viewings continues to bewilder and terrify, and a movie which thanks to a superbly crafted digital fix up, looks absolutely brilliant back up on the biggest of cinematic screens. Whilst many will be already aware of the basic set up thanks to the Gore Verbinksi 2002 American remake, Ringu follows Nanako Matsushima's Reiko Asakawa, a small-time journalist who investigates the sudden death of her niece and leads her onto a path regarding a local mystery surrounding a cursed videotape which when watched, gives the watcher seven days to live. 

With it being twenty one years since the film's initial release, in some roundabout way, it is easy to have much more of a fun time admiring the creepy elements at the heart of Nakata's most impressive horror piece after multiple viewings on the small screen, and whilst big screen re-issues always fail to evoke the same sort of impact you gather from the first time a particular piece is lived through, the cinema environment always allows complete investment as you squirm your way through particular iconic set pieces which although you know are coming, are still damn effecting and unbelievably creepy. Whilst Nakata's movie could easily be seen as eighty minutes of backstory as it insidiously sneaks its' way up to a final act in which one of horror's most iconic images is born, the almost complete absence of background music and humour results in an excruciatingly oppressive atmosphere as we follow Reiko through her discovery of the famous video tape and the supernatural terror of Rie Inō's Sadako Yamamura, the Japanese equivalent of Freddy Krueger or Jason Voorhees, just slightly more terrifying and definitely in need of a good old haircut. Whether you appreciate the tenderness of the execution from the Japanese original or the more Westernised, mainstream approach of Verbinski's take, a remake of which is actually rather well done, Ringu remains one of the most interesting and original horror movies of recent times, one which forces you to check your TV twice before switching off the lights and one which supplies you with a fundamental fear of any female with a white dress and long dark hair. 

Overall Score: 9/10 

Film Review: The Evil Dead

"I Fear That The Only Way To Stop Those Possessed By The Spirits Of The Book Is Through The Act Of... Bodily Dismemberment..."

Whilst most people on Halloween will either take their children out trickle treating in the hope of gathering an excessive and overly unhealthy cauldron of sweets or skip to the nearest pub on the lookout for a pint of Hobgoblin or any other seasonally styled alcoholic beverage, thank Satan himself that neither of those two options are available when a film such as Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead comes back into cinemas, a familiar feeling following on from last year when audiences across the country were treated to Stanley Kubrick's similarly masterful, The Shining, in what for many was probably the first time seeing such a film on the big screen. Released in 1981 on a shoestring budget and quickly being stamped as part of the collective list of "video nasty's" due to its' staggeringly over the top levels of violence, The Evil Dead remains to this day the go-to horror cult classic, a film which manages to blend the genres of horror and jet-black comedy with utmost ease and one which solidified a blossoming bromance between director and actor, Bruce Campbell, whose cameo appearances in the many Raimi-led features since comes down to the excellence of a film which even after repeat viewings is downright outrageous and shockingly entertaining. 

Whilst the notion of the "cabin in the woods" horror narrative strand today seems overly tiresome and horrendously cliched, the influence of The Evil Dead on the likes of Drew Goddard's Cabin in the Woods and even at a stretch, Lars von Trier's Antichrist, simply reinforces the powerful and nightmarish vision which was encapsulated by Raimi and his cast of unknown, bit-part actors back at the beginning of the 1980's, and whilst the likes of The Last House on the Left previously offered horror audiences arguably the starkest vision of the genre at the time, Raimi's vision was built on a mix of laugh-out-loud gross humour and extremely surrealist imagery involving simple but effective special effects and a whole lot of ruby red fake blood. Whilst parts of the movie still remain controversial to this day, particularly the infamous woodland tree scene, which even in the realm of the twenty first century still feels slightly misjudged, the bizarre soundtrack and maniacal camera work still has the desired effect it first had when watching The Evil Dead in my youth, and with the brilliance of hindsight, without Raimi's most iconic feature there would have been potentially no Spider-Man, the film which arguably brought the superhero cinematic universe into the crazed franchise it is today, so when you buy your ticket to watch one of the greatest horror movies of all time on the big screen once again, remember, Avengers: Infinity War exists because of it. Sort of. 

Overall Score: 9/10

Film Review: The Big Lebowski

"Let Me Explain Something To You. I Am Not "Mr. Lebowski". You're Mr. Lebowski. I'm The Dude..."

Unbelievably, The Big Lebowski is twenty years old. As we all hide under our bed sheets and weep at the quick turn around and passing of two decades, Joel and Ethan Coen's cult comedy classic returns to cinemas for one night only, offering the chance to witness the iconic presence of Jeff Bridge's (Hell or High Water) Jeffrey "The Dude" Lebowski stroll around 1990's Los Angeles slobbering White Russian's and dozing around in flip flips upon the big screen. With the Coen's undoubtedly supplying some of the best examples of  modern cinema throughout the past three decades, with Fargo, Inside Llewyn Davis and No Country For Old Men being my personal favourite trio, The Big Lebowski has always remained the primary Coen release which a high percentage of cinephiles always relate to the swiftest. Whether it be the film's endless array of quotes which falls only second to Pulp Fiction in terms of hit count from the 90's, the hilarious comedic performances from its' brilliant cast or the tonal balance between crime, drama and zaniness, The Big Lebowski is indeed endlessly watchable and thoroughly entertaining but ultimately does fall short of being masterpiece as it remains the one Coen release which still hasn't completely and entirely won me over. 

With a narrative which becomes entangled within a eclectic array of plot threads which seems to mirror the care-free, bohemian nature of the film's leading Lebowski, the Coen's movie centrally focuses on a bizarre case of mistaken identity as Bridge's The Dude is introduced in a hilarious attempt to procure funds on behalf of Ben Gazzara's (Dogville) criminal overlord Jackie Treehorn. With the real Lebowski being uncovered as David Huddleston's (Blazing Saddles) wheelchair bound millionaire, The Dude quickly becomes embroiled in kidnap plots, bowling tournaments and the over-bearing, manic nature of John Goodman's (Argo) Walter, whose on-screen relationship with Steve Buscemi's (Reservoir Dogs) Donnie undeniably ranks up there with one of the most misunderstood bromances of the modern era. Whilst the laughs and giggles are quick-quipped and constant and the performances all fall into a Coen-inspired level of ripeness, The Big Lebowski still to this day remains on the zanier side of the Coen's back catalogue, and even when the film is nowhere near the sheer wackiness of The Hudsucker Proxy or Burn After Reading, the Coen's most famous venture still remains slightly too overbearing to be considered at all in any way flawless, but with a rewatchability factor which makes it undeniably entertaining, The Big Lebowski is back for one night only and deserves to be admired once again. Yeah, well, that's just like, my opinion, man.

Overall Score: 8/10

Film Review: 2001: A Space Odyssey

"I've Never Completely Freed Myself From The Suspicion That There Are Some Extremely Odd Things About This Mission..." 

With The Shining re-released into cinema chains across the country last year, the brilliance of Stanley Kubrick's masterful adaptation of Stephen King's most iconic novel meant that audiences could experience the works of one of the greatest filmmakers of all time for potentially the first occasion upon the big screen, and with this year being fifty years since the release of 2001: A Space Odyssey, the chance to embrace one of the greatest and most influential science fiction movies of all time within the confines of all its' cinematic glory is similarly too tantalising to pass by. Based upon Arthur C. Clarke's 1951 short story, "The Sentinel", Kubrick's undisputed masterpiece has been subject to tributes, parody and political analysis in regards to its' potential leanings on the filming of the Moon landing ever since its' first release, a questionable standpoint if ever there was one, and with groundbreaking special effects, a spine-tingling musical accompaniment and the subversive, auteur touch of Kubrickian's perfectionist idealism, 2001 remains to this day an unmissable experience, one which captures the scope of endless cinematic possibility and one which emphasises the bold strokes of a master filmmaker at his most unparalleled and extravagant. 

With the fanfare of Richard Strauss' "Also sprach Zarathustra" bellowing majestically against the backdrop of Earth's reveal, a stellar introductory piece which rivals the opening scroll of Star Wars for most iconic science fiction prologue, the first act's dedication to the discovery of both man's ability to kill and the appearance of the ominous alien monolith is a staggering work of cinematic bravery, one which picks off those unable to handle the stagnated, silent aura of Kubrick's storytelling and one which features the most ridiculous, yet brilliant, editing jump cut in which two instruments of death are swiftly compared, just with million of years in between. With on-screen speech not occurring until the twenty minute mark when the introduction of William Sylvester's Dr. Heywood Floyd brings with it exposition which attempts to outline the ambiguous nature surrounding a supposed mass epidemic at a moon-based space station, the gorgeous special effects and cute, clever technical asides being presented to the backdrop of Johann Strauss' "The Blue Danube" is an outstanding cinematic partnership, with the set design and Oscar winning visual effects both remarkable and as beautiful today as it would have been half a century ago, and for younger audiences who have been treated to increasingly impressive special effects over the past few decades or so, the one real reservation of seeing the effects of 2001 on the big screen is the shame of not seeing it back in 1968 when its' unprecedented spectacle would have been jaw-dropping. 

As the movie moves into its third act and most impressive act, the trials and tribulations of the ill-fated Jupiter Mission is the centrepiece of the film's real action, a tense build-up of muddled uncertainty and of course, the deadly "malfunctioning" of the iconic HAL-9000, the super computer whose flawless and perfect technical record is questioned by Gary Lockwood and Keir Dullea's Frank Poole and David Bowman, two on-board scientists unaware of the bigger picture surrounding their suspiciously ambiguous deep space mission. With Douglas Rain brilliantly supplying the voice for HAL, his creepy yet elegant monotone speech is the work of genius, one which captures perfectly the sense of something that may indeed feel human but is undoubtedly still a cold and very calculating machine, a factor evidenced by the relatively nonchalant way death is portrayed on-screen. With the final twenty minutes dedicated to Bowman's journey through the Infinite, the famous surrealist "star-gate" sequence is absolutely bewildering and stunning to behold within the cinematic format, a vivid roller-coaster of beautiful imagery which transports the audience to science fiction heaven and beyond. With a concluding act which leaves all questions intact without clear answers or the chance for any form of meaningful resolution like the best science fiction movies are brave enough to do, 2001: A Space Odyssey deserves its' chance to be witnessed on the big screen, and with it hard to believe such a movie has ticked over to the ripe old age of fifty, it wouldn't be surprising to see Kubrick's masterpiece still as effective as ever in another fifty years' time. 

Overall Score: 10/10

Film Review: The Shining

"I'm Sorry To Differ With You Sir, But You Are The Caretaker. You've Always Been The Caretaker..."

In a year where the works of Stephen King have seemed to have taken siege upon both the big screen and the small, the re-release of Stanley Kubrick's The Shining ironically seeks out to remind how much the horror masterpiece differs from its' ghostly source material, and whilst King himself has famously distanced himself from the 1980 classic on a moral level, the haunting ambiguity and off-kilter tonal essence of Kubrick's classic once again reminds why such a movie is always part of the conversation when discussing the greatest and most influential horror movies of all time. Published in January of 1977, King's third novel quickly followed the breakout successes of Carrie and Salem's Lot, and whilst the story on the surface primarily focuses on the horrors of the Overlook Hotel and the toll it takes on the Torrance family, the underlying notions of alcoholism and regret mirrored the struggles of the novel's own during that period of time, resulting in The Shining being arguably King's most personal work up to that date, creating an understandable air of indifference from King to a movie released only three years later which decided to focus primarily on the supernatural elements of the novel rather than the subplots regarding familial tensions and the conflicted leading character of Jack Torrance to a larger extent portrayed on film. Thankfully for Kubrick, his version of The Shining is arguably more terrifying than one could have envisioned when adapting King's story from page to screen, thanks primarily to a typically maddened performance from Jack Nicholson whose portrayal of the writer's block inflicted father will arguably go down as his most iconic and memorable role within a career which goes down with arguably one of the greatest ever. 

Whilst the casting of Nicholson seemed to many at the time to be one of ease over exploration, with Nicholson's Oscar winning performance as Randle McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest already showcasing Nicholson's penchant for portraying the slightly insane, the guidance of Kubrick as the film's master of puppets resulted in a live-action Jack Torrance which seeped with uncertainty and ferocious ingrained rage from beginning to end. With Shelley Duvall as the repressed, doe-eyed Wendy Torrance on Nicholson's arm and the youthful appearance of Danny Lloyd as son, Danny, a child afflicted with the titular mysterious power as coined by Scatman Crothers' Dick O'Halloran, Kubrick's take on the already well established horror genre is arguably his most auteurist within a filmography which puts most recent filmmakers to shame, and whilst the likes of 2001: A Space Odyssey and Dr Strangelove proved the widening spectrum of Kubrick's work, his OCD-esque tendency for frame-by-frame perfection and famously subverted workings of actors, sets and camera usage is no more apparent than in The Shining, a film, which not unlike the book, has a surface narrative regarding one man's descent into darkness but underneath is filled with famously hidden notions which ranged from everything from Kubrick's stance on the moon landing to a comment regarding the massacring of native American indians. 

Of course, the discussion regarding the hidden elements of Kubrick's masterpiece is not exactly hot topic for most, and when reviewing the movie on just cinematic grounds, The Shining is near flawless, a ice-cold spook-a-thon which although was aware of previous examples of the genre such as The Haunting and more obviously, The Amytiville Horror, broke new ground in its' ghostly balance between psychological horror and flat out slasher, one which is all helmed together by the performance of Nicholson and arguably the most impressive batch of iconic set pieces to ever grace the genre of horror. Whether it be Danny's meeting with the mysterious visitor in Room 237, the image of two deceased twins or of course, the legendary, improvised line of "here's Johnny", The Shining is a rare case of a movie which although is a shadow of the source material of which I am undoubtedly a huge fan, is undoubtedly a masterwork in its' own way, and with the chance to see Kubrick's movie on the big screen for the very first time this week, such an opportunity is one which film fans in general cannot pass by.

Overall Score: 10/10

Film Review: Alien

"Ash, That Transmission... Mother's Deciphered Part Of It. It Doesn't Look Like An S.O.S..."

In preparation for what can only be regarded as Ridley Scott's last chance to revive the Alien series once and for all after the middling mediocrity which was 2012's Prometheus, cinema chains across the country are gearing us Xenomorph lovers up for Alien: Covenant with the re-release of the greatest science-fiction horror of all time in the form of the original 1979 Ridley Scott classic which for many, including myself, will be the very first time to witness the menacing threat of the first and very best entry of the everlasting Alien franchise upon the big screen. When it comes to the dissection of such a monumental piece of cinema, the release of Alien came at a time in which a 42 year old Ridley Scott was fresh and ready to begin his second high-profile cinematic release after the completion of the 1977 historical drama The Duellists, and with a script in-hand from American writer Dan O'Bannon, the journey onto the Nostromo was well and truly underway. Assembling a cast which featured an already well-versed acting talent in the form of Tom Skerritt, the Oscar nominated John Hurt and a leading star of Invasion of the Body Snatchers only one year previous in the form of Veronica Cartwright, Ridley Scott's had already embraced a solid acting staple to work from, yet unbeknown to possibly him at the time, the real ace in the hole was the seemingly unknown figure of Sigourney Weaver who in her portrayal of Ellen Ripley created a character who still to this day is as iconic as anyone in the entire backdrop of cinematic history.

With a narrative which is original as it is intelligent and rational, with each of the individual characters having enough solid background and personality to make choices and decisions that are both understandable and lifelike throughout the course of their torment upon the Nostromo, Scott takes the paranoid ambiguity of O'Bannon's script and treats it with equal portions of precision and care, with the real mesmerising features of witnessing Alien on the big screen for the first time dialling down to elements which on the small screen can sometimes be missed and washed over. These outstanding big-screen elements include a wickedly sharp sound design from renowned composer Jerry Goldsmith, one which encompasses the dark and grungy feel of the on-board surroundings of both the Nostromo and the alien planet in which our heroes venture upon, with Goldsmith trading full-blown levels of acoustic mayhem which is rife within modern-day horrors for carefully constructed moments of squeaks and hums which only enhance the oppressive nature of the film and the sheer predatory nature of its' titular murderous specimen. 

 Alongside the awesomeness of the soundtrack, the truly remarkable set design is a mind-boggling sight to behold, with it to this day being as groundbreaking as it is legendary in its' attempts to create a historic mythology which even in contemporary cinematic circles continues to baffle and blow the minds of every true science fiction fanatic out there who in their obsession with the world in which Scott has created link every clue from every subsequent release in order to understand the through-line to which the world of Alien has plated up since its' inception in 1979. Whilst many favour the James Cameron led sequel in the form of Aliens, the action-packed blockbuster which propelled Sigourney Weaver even more into the realms of cult status, my personal favourite of the franchise will always be Alien, a plain and simple masterpiece of cinema which laid the template for so many films that followed and a movie which ticks all the boxes for what I desire when sitting down and spending time delving into a cinematic universe, and with the direction and masterstroke of Ridley Scott, Alien is the type of cinematic universe which offers so much in return and will continue to do so for centuries to come. This is Ripley, signing off.

Overall Score: 10/10

Film Review: Blade Runner: The Final Cut

Tears In Rain...

Perfection is particularly hard to muster when it comes to cinema. Sure, there are particular films that will always be regarded as masterpieces such as The Godfather, Citizen Kane and Lawrence of Arabia, but mastery and perfection is ultimately down to personal preference. When asked what my all-time favourite film is, I can never pin down one particular movie that I could regard as the “greatest”, but there are certain films that will always be in that particular list such as Donnie Darko, Alien, Mulholland Drive, and finally, Blade Runner. Interestingly, two films within that short and sweet example happen to be directed by Ridley Scott, who, in my opinion, is one of the greatest directors in the history of cinema. Sure, his latest efforts haven’t gone down particularly well, but at the beginning of his career, Scott created films that were wondrous, ground-breaking, and will continue to stand the test of time, Blade Runner included. Because of this, cinemas across the UK this month are showcasing the reissue of Blade Runner: The Final Cut, the supposed definitive version of Scott’s masterpiece, giving me great pleasure in getting the chance to witness one of my most beloved films’ on the big screen for the very first time.

Based on Phillip K. Dick’s novel, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Scott’s Blade Runner was a film I never truly understood, or even liked, when I first watched it as a young child, with my first savour of the dystopian future in which Harrison Ford’s Deckard hunts down the rogue Nexus-6 replicants, was in its’ “Directors Cut” form, which omitted the divisive voice-over from the original theatrical release as well as adding the now famous unicorn scene and a much more ambiguous ending. Years later, with my love of cinema fully formed, I purchased the “Final Cut” version of the film when released on Blu-Ray and rediscovered a treasure that now I could truly understand, now I could really savour, and now would forever hold a place in my cinematic heart. On the big screen, the film is simply a wonder to behold with the beautiful soundtrack by synth-master Vangelis perfectly accompanying the dark, edgy tone of the movie of which is uncanny in its’ vision of the future where giant advertisements, crowded night clubs and desolate streets hark back to the age-old notion of capitalism, signified by the riches seen during Deckard’s trip to the Murdochian (is that a thing?) Tyrell Corporation.

The film boasts arguably Harrison Ford’s best career performance, who ever-so smoothly slips into the role of Deckard, perfectly portraying a much softer and anxious character than in previous Ford efforts at the time such as Han Solo and Indiana Jones. As good as Ford is, it is no question that the film’s best performer is Rutger Hauer, who in his portrayal of replicant Roy Batty creates one of the most unique scenes of improvisation ever with his beautiful “I've seen things,” speech, that, according to the filmmakers, resulted in some of the crew bursting into tears due to its’ sheer power and unrivaled beauty. What a magical moments it must have been to witness it. Lucky them. Aside from the two leads, Sean Young’s portrayal as Rachael, the denial-ridden replicant love interest of Deckard, succeeds in standing up strongly to her two male counterparts, whilst making the sight of smoking a cigarette look more attractive than I ever thought it possibly could be.

If you haven’t ever had the chance to watch Blade Runner, there is no better time to do so than now, with the option of watching it on the big screen too good an opportunity to turn down. There is something so beautifully haunting about Blade Runner that it draws me in again and again, no matter how many times I choose to watch it. A masterpiece of cinema and a true wonder of science fiction, what more do you want? Enjoy. 

Overall Score: 10/10