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Tuesday, 5 June 2012

Duel (1971)



View trailer here

Here we have a  film that has gradually grown into an important text - this was originally a 'made-for-tv' film - by the up-and-coming film director, Steven Spielberg. Based on a short story by Richard Matheson (also known for writing the classic 'I Am Legend' amongst other well-known novels ), this narrative consists of the effective yet simple concept of 'cat and mouse'. The 'mouse' being a lone driver (Dennis Weaver) on a business trip driving across a desert highway in the States, while the 'cat' is a faceless dirty old truck. Here, we have a tense narrative unfolding as the result of the most minor case of road rage imaginable. Spielberg takes this everyday situation and cleverly manipulates it to spiral into madness as we are treated to a collection of close-up shots of wheels spinning, dashboard gauges, headlights and views within mirrors. The effect makes the audience feel a sense of dread as if they are being stalked out in the desert highway, as we 'sit' in the car with Weaver, checking our speed on  the speedometer, looking at the open road ahead, checking out the view in the wing mirror/rear-view and praying no warning lights begin to flash in the dashboard. We are there as a passenger in the car with our protagonist, so his fate is ultimately ours also. By doing this, Spielberg makes it virtually impossible for the viewer not to identify with Weaver's character. We are getting sensory information about the chase at the same time as the protagonist does; there is no advanced disclosure, nor holding back of information for the viewer - you are sitting in that car with him! Until the recent development of technology where we can now participate in 'interactive films' in the latest video game blockbusters, 'Duel' was the closest you could get to an interactive film. It is brilliantly directed and cleverly fosters audience identification. Each shot is carefully constructed to convey important information about the pursuit.




Spielberg's technique is effective in other ways also. As would be the case in his later film 'Jaws' (1975), Spielberg hides the antagonist for as long as possible. In 'Jaws', the shark was rarely seen - due to mechanical difficulties - but in 'Duel', Spielberg hides the driver of the truck to preserve his mystery. This makes the audience ask questions; Who or what is this maniac driving the truck? Why is he so sadistic? Why is he so relentless? These are questions that we the viewer are asking simultaneously with the poor bastard being stalked. Spielberg never answers these questions, making it feel as if we are spiralling into a nightmare of utter irrationality. What kind of a world do we live in when passing someone on a road is a crime punishable by death? Is this a case of extreme road rage, or something more? 'Duel' is more frightening because we just aren't being given these answers.

Matheson's screenplay is ideal for Spielberg, and is skilful in developing Weaver's driver. The audience is privy to his thoughts, and they feel pretty real! He escalates into full-scale panic, considers apologies, and tries to act out every possible outcome in his mind. This approach makes the viewer realise how our minds keep replaying and reinterpreting traumatic events, trying to make them right in our heads so we can move on. Yet he is denied any peace because there is no rational explanation for the assault on him. The audience identifies with him because his inner monologues keep trying to reason through the situation - and keep failing - as they try also. It is more frightening to be presented with the inexplicable, and Weaver presents the realistic portrayal of an everyman confronted by the unusual, the terrifying and the unreal.


Along with 'The Road Warrior' (1982) and 'The Hitcher' (1985), 'Duel' is one of the best 'road chase' films ever made.
This is a suspenseful , exciting "100 mile an hour" (sometimes literally!) chase. 'Duel' just goes to show that one moment of madness at the wrong time and the wrong place can descend quickly and irrevocably into terror. 'Duel' was Steven Spielberg's calling card to Hollywood, and it is a magnificent text to do so.

Thursday, 26 April 2012

Legend of the Werewolf (1975)



This latest entry deals with a film made when the werewolf film had been done to death. So you may be asking why have I chosen this lesser-known example when there are so many other seminal werewolf films out there. In answer to this question, I should explain that when I was a wee nipper, this was one of my earliest memories of horror films that I had watched and been impressed by (Thankfully, I was very lucky having parents who didn't object to my watching horror films from a very young age. I in turn, thanked them for this by not keeping them awake all night as I'm sure other youngsters would their parents after watching some of these films... So everyone's a winner!).

So, here we have Tyburn's 'Legend of the Werewolf'. An interesting, unassuming take on the topic of Lycanthropy. Released hot on the heels of the studio's previous effort 'The Ghoul' (1974), this is the story of boy-turns-werewolf, with an interesting setting and another excellent performance by the British Horror icon, Peter Cushing who also stars.

Films such as 'An American Werewolf in London' (1981) - or 'American Werewolf in Paris' (1997) for that matter - are just two examples of the old story retold in a fresh setting. The setting for this film is also Paris.. 19th Century Paris to be exact. Here, we see the underclass of the era - a world of orphans, drunks, prostitutes and scheming politicians. This film does not show the side of the city considered to be one of the most romantic in the world.

The heroine of this film is Christine, an orphan. In her desperate search for wealth, she has become a prostitute (Yes, at the young age I was when first seeing this film, I didn't know what one of those was!). As equally desperate as she is to be genuinely loved, she refuses to marry Etoile for the simple reason that he has nothing. She is in search for a better life, and will not settle for less, and the film is unflinching in representing her as a desperate social climber. The film is littered with unsavoury men and women. There's the unscrupulous madam of the brothel, the brutal showman who treats his living human attractions like cattle, and the drunken (and rather scary-looking-in-an-Albert-Steptoe-kind-of-way!) zoo keeper. With these examples in mind, the people of Paris are depicted as pretty horrible all round, and that's an interesting conceit. Etoile kills many of these nasty individuals but the audience's sympathy remains squarely with him. He does not like the hand life has dealt him (From being a baby taken and raised by a pack of wolves to becoming a feral child, then a circus attraction and his lycanthropic ways he finds himself in now). Not only is he a werewolf, but he finds himself being exploited by pretty much everyone within society.. a wealthy society which is also keeping him apart from the woman he loves. Etoile is the outsider not just because he is a monster, but because he is poor, and the film is really about a man railing against his social class. Lycanthropy is simply a tool that gives his protest teeth... bloody big ones!!

If there is one noble character in the entire film, it is not surprising that he is played by the gentleman Peter Cushing - Paul, the coroner. As usual, Cushing is able to demand audience identification with minimal fuss. Purely by his sparkling intelligence and sincerity, he comes across as sharp and insightful. Those qualities make him a very different character from the rest that Paris has to offer - and there's also a bit of the Van Helsing about his sharp intellect.



Around halfway through the film, it goes from being about Etoile's personal story of revenge to the police procedural, and Cushing takes the lead role. In the best tradition of horror protagonists, Cushing shows compassion for his enemy, hoping to learn from it rather than simply destroying it. "You fools!" he shouts at the police, "Blundering idiots! Must you always kill?" Cushing's concern for his prey not only makes sense for a man of science, it reinforces the idea that the people of Paris are primitive, lustful people with base appetites that include murder.

'Legend of the Werewolf' features some gory murders, great werewolf makeup, and plenty of red-hued 'werewolf cam' tracking shots. With Cushing leading the investigation, the film has a fine horror backbone. Yet on top of all the horror is the story of a boy raised in the wild and unable to integrate into a human society that has set limits on people of his 'breeding'. Etoile is a pathetic character, but one who desires what we all desire: to love, and to ultimately amount to something. The very rules of Parisian life keep those things from Etoile, and when he strikes back, he is striking back not because he is a monster, but because society is.


Friday, 20 April 2012

A Clockwork Orange (1971)



View trailer here

The year is 1971, and Stanley Kubrick's vision of the future  - a world dominated by sex, violence and corrupt bureaucracies - seemed a ridiculous and far-fetched future world. By the year 2002, this vision had become a reality.

We now live in a media-saturated world where children are learning about sex earlier and earlier, violence is a daily occurrence in schools and on our streets, and politicians constantly being exposed in scandal after scandal. This film's message is clearer than ever. Even in the age of excess, the citizen's right to choose right or wrong must never be corrupted - even if the choice is a morally degenerate one.

In a free society, 'A Clockwork Orange' teaches us that we must tolerate monsters like Alex (Malcom McDowell) to ensure that the rest of us retain our freedom. It's quite frightening to see how Burgess' and Kubrick's vision accurately predicts how the future would pan out. Today, we see the 'sexualisation' of young girls such as Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera and the worshipping of supermodels and celebrities by the media. In this film, sex is likewise merchandised and sold - an example being the drug-laced milk that Alex and his droogs enjoy being poured from the statues of naked women in the bar. Nudity serves every consumer, and is no longer reserved for privacy or art.

Men too are sexualised in this film, wearing enlarged codpieces as a sexual affectation. This can be compared to body piercings, tattoos and dying your hair bright pink, to be seen as trendy and sexually desirable.

'A Clockwork Orange' notes that the rampant sexuality is not so much a result of changing  morals, as it is a reflection of an irresponsible media where everyone and everything is seen primarily as a commodity. In one important scene, Alex is in a futuristic mall filled wall-to-wall with magazines, music and teenagers - a futuristic HMV before teenagers simply walked around making mental notes of what they would download next when they get home. This is consumer culture!

'A Clockwork Orange' is most often noted for its themes of violence, rather than sex - appropriate too, given an X-Certificate upon its release in 1971. However, violence in film has progressed so far since this film, that Kubrick's film seems almost quaint today. The costume takes the audience away from that sense of realism often present in modern ultra-violent films, such as 'The Human Centipede', 'A Serbian Film' or 'Irreversible' to name but a notorious few! A film which deals with beatings and rapes, but orchestrated to classical or popular music (Beethoven, 'Singin' in the Rain', etc) takes it away from the gritty realism of the above mentioned films and almost into the territory of satire. A ballet of violence, beautiful and disturbing at the same time, Kubrick distances the audience from the real horror by utilising a familiar melody for purposes of irony. The audience retreats from the horrors of the rape scene by identifying the backing soundtrack it's set to and identifying with the familiarity of Gene Kelly's dance of delight in the rain. In the case of Alex, his delight involves beating others, and his foot delivers kicks, crushes and stomps in time with the music, rather than dance moves. The ironic use of music is entertaining, but it is also a ploy to appeal to the intellectual curiosity of the viewer. The viewer is not so tormented  or disturbed by the break-in and ensuing violence when they make the link with Kubrick's choice of music in their minds, instead referencing a musical classic.


The most disturbing aspect of 'A Clockwork Orange' is not the violence but the endemic cruelty of spirit that passes for the norm in Alex's world. His parents have no warmth or decency. They are cold laughable characters. The priest, who insists Alex must have the right to make his own moral choices, is naive. He believes (wrongly) that Alex has "a genuine desire to reform", unaware that Alex is a complete monster. Police corruption is evident in the former droogs, and even doctors and nurses are depicted in negative terms, more interested in sex than helping their patients. No authority is represented in a positive way in this film - Alex's guidance counsellor is presented as a despicable paedophile. Even the victims of crime within the film, for which the audience would normally feel sympathy for, appear as revenge-obsessed maniacs.

'A Clockwork Orange' is such a cold film not because of the violence, but because it clinically views man as an essentially cruel creature. There are few redeeming features to any character in this film... which brings us to Alex! Many critics were outraged with Kubrick because they feel his film actually engenders sympathy for Alex, a boy with violent and immoral impulses. Compared with the brutal policemen, the droogs and the crappy parents, Alex is the most identifiable human character in the entire film. He's clearly a nasty person but at least we are privy to his thoughts, and even though these thoughts are brutal, that identification humanises him. He may be violent, but he loves Beethoven. He may treat his parents badly, by we see upon his release how deeply they wound him by disowning him. Although Alex is the victimiser, Kubrick goes to great lengths to prove that he is likewise the victim. Alex is a boy who, in the absence of his parents, is raised by the violence and sex obsessed media. SO it should come as no surprise that he has turned out the way he has. Alex is the protagonist of this film. He is violent and immoral, but he survives society's attempt to take away his individuality. He is violent and immoral purely for his own pleasure, but that's his choice. The question is, do we accept that choice or do we try to suppress it? And if we forbid some acts, what will be forbidden next? Those of you reading this post in a public place may want to ponder this as you go outside in the cold rain to smoke your cigarette!