Bernardo Villela is like a mallrat except at the movies. He is a writer, director, editor and film enthusiast who seeks to continue to explore and learn about cinema, chronicle the journey and share his findings.
For an Introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween, and a list of previously featured films, please go here.
Blame
This installment of the series is offered by Narciso Ibáñez Serrador. The only other film I’ve seen of his is Who Can Kill a Child?, the original not the remake, which I enjoyed a bit more. Although many years later it’s interesting to see a filmmaker only twice and at two very different stages of their career, especially when some of the themes that are being explored are similar. This title is the most recent of his listed on the IMDb. While there are some interesting aspects to the film, and some of it is well-handled; I can’t help but feel it shares a lot of the difficulties the earlier film works: namely there are some dubious decisions by characters and some head-scratching moments.
However, what this film has going for it is that its tale is, eventually, a more layered one and touches upon themes too often avoided in American horror films. However, there does come a point in a film where it can be said you’ve been playing coy for too long and are starting to hurt the end result. The delayed nature of the reveals adds a sudden choppiness to the reveals and a very quick escalation with minimal time to absorb the impact of what is seen.
There is certainly a deftness of hand in how this tale is wrought, but it ultimately encounters some issues that titles truncated to have shorter running times do; inasmuch as I feel this film would’ve benefitted from being expounded upon such that the overall flow of it was more consistent. As it stands there are interesting scenes a themes, as well as effective sequences, that don’t gel into a completely successful whole.
For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and a list of previously featured titles please go here.
The Dead Father (1985)
I have covered the films of Guy Maddin on a few occasionshere. However, even with all that coverage there are a few of his films I had not seen. One such film was Tales from the Gimli Hospital, his first feature.
On the DVD of that film, one whose horror qualifications are disputable, there was the short film The Dead Father. This is one that is more obviously a horror tale. It’s one in which death is a transient experience. One misapprehension I recall from my days in film school is that writing “homey” or family-based tales was us students playing it safe, sticking far too close to writing what we know. However, it’s not the motif or the milieu you work with, but rather how you use it. Much of Maddin’s works, this one included, are family portraits but you could not confuse Maddin with any other filmmaker because of how he tells his stories in narrative, visual and editorial senses.
Even with it poetical use of voice over and sparse use of dialogue there are still silent film tropes all about this film starting with the introductory photo title cards of the characters. Maddin’s style is embossed on this film, and though he has experimented with different kinds of tales; he has created his own approach and that really started here.
While short films are a starting point for most, if not all filmmakers, few modern auteurs can be referred to as short film artists and Maddin is most certainly that. He continues to make many shorts and he tells tales that are as long as they have to be and is not only making features but made a short as recently as last year in an anthology, and one due out next year.
This is a film that sets its tone with weird off-kilter photo albums immediately and continues to its creepy, gross finale with occasional humor and persistent oddities throughout. Unlike many of his shorts, this film is not available online but instead is on the Kino edition of Tales from the Gimli Hospital it is definitely recommended viewing if you’re looking for something a bit different.
For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and a list of previously covered films go here.
Asylum (1971)
Last year I got into a real kick of watching as many horror anthologies as were easily accessible. The anthology film, horror or otherwise, was one I’d not seen too many times. Granted they are one of the rarer approaches but they are out there. The most recent notable editions in the genre are, of course, The ABCs of Death and V/H/S. I had heard, from more than one source, that this was the best of them so it was one I knew I had to give a go once this theme rolled around.
Not only had I heard it was quite good, but it was also cited as one of the 100 (or so) best horror films from 1950-1980 by Stephen King in his seminal work of non-fiction, Danse Macabre. And titles on that list are high on the pecking order so far as things I want to be seeing during this theme.
With this film the approach is one closer to a nested anthology, which is to say that the stories more naturally flow in a narrative sense. Some anthologies are rather regimented and segmented. Here the the frame is highly important both in terms of the screen time it’s given and the impact it has on the tale overall. There are far too many anthologies I’ve seen, even in the small amount, that treat the frame as a throwaway or as secondary. This does not.
With the tales spawning from the minds of the deranged there is also a brilliant liberation from “reality” and standard rules. The drawback that most will point to regarding anthologies is that invariably some tales are better than others, some are even so good that they nearly salvage otherwise dreadful films. Part of why this film is so well-regarded is the fact that pretty much all the stories in this film (frame included) stand on virtually equal footing, and they’re all quite good, creepy, weird, and well-executed.
Amicus Productions are not a name I’m very familiar with but they are a company whose titles are worth getting to know. Asylum being a prime example.
If you’ve been paying extra-close attention you may have noticed I’ve not adhered to my policy of updating or adding new content daily as of late. Essentially what has occurred is that I got ahead of the game for a period of time where I was away but didn’t get ahead after returning to the daily grind. So I took some days off to re-strategize: I will slowly and surely build the surplus starting today, which is my regularly scheduled round of updates to running lists. Below you will find links to all that has changed today. New content will arrive tomorrow.
The next update day will be Tuesday, October 1st, 2013.
For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and list of films previously covered please go here.
The Baby’s Room (2006)
As I mentioned last post, the very least I ask out of a series of horror films is that there be some concerted attempt to push the envelope within the confines of the genre. That’s exactly what this film does. Contrary to another film in this series that I’ll cover at a later date it does take a while to deliver on its connection between the main thrust and the teaser scene, but when it does it really works ingeniously and gives the film a creative avenue through which to explore its themes in both audio and visual ways.
While many of the films in the series, and in my experience with Spanish horror in general, can be a bit deliberately paced; the incidents in this film stack themselves nearly atop one another. The pace is fairly quick which does keep one fairly engaged both emotionally (as you watch the rapid deterioration of a relationship and mental state) and intellectually (as you fight to keep up not only with the twists and turns, but to decipher the rules that govern this cinematic universe).
Also, on the intellectual end of the spectrum there is a paradoxical nature to the film, which to my mind elevates it. Also bumping this film into another echelon are the performances. When there’s much dealing with mental state and personality it’s a pre-requisite for greatness if not passibility and this film does have very few chinks in its armor.
I believe that I may not have been as impressed by The Baby’s Room the first time I saw it, and that may have to do with the results of the narrative because what this film actually does, which too many horror films fail to do, is get me to care about what becomes of the characters within it. In one scene you see the protagonist quite literally pick up a figurine, a piece of a game; when you pick up all the pieces of the puzzle that is this film you get quite a dazzlingly terrifying portrait.
Firstly, my apologies for this post being late, and to subscribers who may have seen this post come up raw, unfinished and unedited. I’ll do my best to keep that kind of thing from happening again (it’s already happened far too often).
My goal in this post for this blogathon was to through viewing the works of Dorothy and Lillian working together not only come up with a unique angle on their collective filmography, but, also get to know them better. Yes, I know Lillian’s work on Night of the Hunter. Her quote about children is one of my favorite in the annals of film history. However, I can’t claim much knowledge about them. I knew more about them than I did about Louise Fazenda, but not too much. Therefore, a perfect opportunity to learn.
If looking at it like a science experiment I used many of the same methods to hunt down the Dorothy and Lillian titles that I did with Louise. Sadly, though The Internet Archive yielded me no results. Youtube did get me the chance to view nine films, however, few featured them very prominently. Those that did will be embedded.
However, even if this strikes me as somewhat disappointing, I have gained some knowledge and surely my goals are always lofty and not always likely to be reached. For I should recall that it was Lillian Gish herself who said:
I’ve lived long enough to know the whole truth is never found in history texts. Only the people who lived through an era and who are the participants in the drama, as it occurred, know the truth. The people of each generation are the accurate historians of their time.
So, no, in this approach only finding a few of the works they did together I can’t be all-encompassing but perhaps there’s something new that can be found.
Films Viewed
An Unseen Enemy (1912) So Near, Yet So Far (1912) The Burglar’s Dilemma (1912) The Musketeers of Pig Alley (1912) The New York Hat (1912) The Painted Lady(1912) Judith of Bethulia (1914) Home, Sweet Home (1914) Orphans of the Storm (1921)
Observations
Firstly, almost by accident I watched these films in something resembling chronological order. I searched based on the IMDb list, which sorted them that way and then I created a YouTube play list in the order things were found. As per the official Lillian Gish siteAn Unseen Enemy marks her debut.
In my note-taking I was a bit more poetical about the ladies’ participation in this film referring to them as “mournful ingenues” rather than “damsels in distress.” However, that’s what it boils down to. There’s nothing atypical about this work from Griffith, not anything exceedingly spectacular save for the fact that it began their association with him and it would prove rather fruitful for both. It was an auspicious start to watching them both because they’re scarcely apart for even a second.
In terms of working in tandem The Musketeers Pig Alley is not a prime example as here Lillian plays a significant role and Dorothy plays a small part as “frizzy-haired woman in street,” as would end up being the case quite a bit; as it was Lillian who was regarded as one of the greatest actresses of the silent age, but I was keen to re-examine it after I saw it earlier this year and thought nothing too much of it. What created that turnabout was Scorsese’s mention of it in this brilliant article. The film didn’t appeal to me too much more but the shot he refers too, which was unusual for the time, did.
As little as that film has to offer for both of them, Lillian’s physicality does shine through in her contributions to the narrative.
Going in chronological order through much of the early small works the sisters both did for Griffith/Biograph did have me rather dejected regarding my hopes of finding something worthwhile.
A note to all those writing about film is that one must watch first and find the angle second. Reversing that equation can have very adverse effects on your viewing experience. Giving me little fodder to discuss, but a film I thought was very enjoyable, such that it buoyed me to continue was The New York Hat.
Closing out what represented the selections that marked the early part of their careers was an odd little film called Home, Sweet Home. Here these another good scene of the sisters together. As the protagonist (Payne played by Henry B. Walthall) flirts with his sweetheart (Lillian) her sister (Dorothy) get some great reactions while facing away from them. The story is an interesting pre-cursor to what Griffith would later do in Intolerance structurally, though I suspect this is far less successful. The sisters start the film but do go out for a while. If you can stick it out it’s worth taking in. I had difficulty doing so, I must admit.
Much as my playlist did for me, I save the best for last for you. This is one of three features that I took in and this one is a long one at over 140 minutes but truly the story is a fairly epic one, but also intimate. Fate, more specifically the events leading up to, during and immediately following the French Revolution; tear apart these two sisters many times over. Louise, played by Dorothy, is blind, and Henriette, played by Lillian, is even more protective of her because of it. You add into the equation things like: it’s another D.W. Griffith work; one of his sprawling, great melodramas and you can see how special this title is without, even factoring in other things like that it was the last time Lillian worked with Griffith and that she suggested the film, as it was based on a popular play.
However, the film is not just excellent, but both Lillian and Dorothy are exceptional in it. Playing blind in the silent era is not something I think I’ve been privy to yet so it’s not quite as big as I expected it to be and that’s a credit to Dorothy. The fact that one sister is a caretaker for another is augmented by the genuine sisterly affection that shines through their performances.
Here is where you see a citation, much as I alluded to earlier, being personified. Lillian was one of the finest actresses around, but the already more naturalistic style that came in as cameras moved closer to actors was something that she was already more than capable of previously. The litany of scenes and different emotions conveyed by the two in this film is would be quite long if I enumerated them all.
However, key in this film is that they each have significant screen time in the film, but much of it is spent separated and in search of one another. Thus, each sister gets her chance to shine. This makes it perhaps a more powerful and impactive film as Lillian’s career continued strongly for years and Dorothy didn’t transition to sound nearly as successfully.
The Syndrome of Siblings in entertainment, particularly film, can be a vicious one because whether or not a rivalry does exist; the public, both at large and within an industry, has a tendency to compare. And comparisons can adversely effect the sibling who is generally perceived to be the lesser of the two making an isolated and impartial evaluation hard or impossible to come by.
One example of how they both shine is in a fleeting reunion, which can be referred to as this film’s “balcony scene.” For a scene such as that to work both of the actors have to pull it off, especially in a wide angle (which at least a portion of the scene is) and they do, emoting as befits their character.
Conclusion
Regardless of how history may recall the Gish sisters individually “the whole truth cannot be found in history texts.” What can still be found are some of their works. I did, through my limited exposure in the past, come to post with a hierarchy in mind, but as I saw the first short with faces so similar and performances virtually on par it made me wonder about that – even identifying them become difficult in these version. Perhaps what it illustrates is that both were better together, and Lillian was more capable when they were not paired.
Yet, I can’t help but think bigger than that. For film is collaborative art: without Lillian Griffith doesn’t have Orphans of the Storm to his credit; without Dorothy Lillian may not even think to suggest it; without each other they can’t deliver the performances they do. And then, what of us, filmmakers and lovers both, where are we without both of them, without our ability to enjoy and learn from them? It may be impossible to quantify, but thankfully one needn’t answer that question but can merely enjoy what they have contributed.
For an introduction to the concept behind 61 Days of Halloween and a list of films previously covered please go here.
Graveyard Disturbance
This is a film that was directed by Lamberto Bava, son of Mario and director of such films as Demons, for a televised horror film series called Brivido giallo. The inherent value of horror series in my estimation is challenging the writers and directors to create, be they within a theme or some of constraint to further contribute to the genre and hopefully push it forward. If it breeds experimentation and something new that’s ideal, but the goal ultimately, at least from an analytical viewpoint, is to not allow it to stagnate.
I’ve not seen other films released under Brivido giallo, but, sadly this title has little to offer in the way of either being a piece of quality workmanship or originality. That’s not to say it’s entirely bereft of positives but the film positions itself poorly to attempt to exploit said positives. The location, the atmosphere and overall art design is fairly great. However, it’s bookended by both poor acting and a fairly slapdash story so the atmosphere can only go so far.
As the mystery the characters find themselves in unravels itself, it wants you leaving more, in a bad way. It creates a mythos that is undernourished and it would have done well to exploit the “non-Euclidian nature” of the environs they found themselves within.
The first act offers almost nothing in the way of the incident, however, a title such as this one is not enough to get me to shut the door on Bava or this series of releases. When one watches horror one does so knowing there will be many failed ventures before finding something truly special.
While I do watch many new films, and have annual awards and will discuss current cinematic topics. Part of my desire to create my own site was to not have an agenda forced upon me that was not my own. This allows me to discuss films from all periods of history whenever I see fit. Recently my Short Film Saturday posts have been running toward silents more often. I questioned this tactic for a second until I realized that if I really do hope to encompass all of film history then the silent era most definitely should not be ignored. If you mark the silent era from the birth of film (1895) to the first talkie (1927), and I realize it could be argued that the silent era stretched a few years beyond that, and also that there were experiments with sound very early; that’s still 27% of film history at current which was entirely silent. Therefore a weekly post (or, however often I put it up) is not out of line at all mathematically or otherwise.
The good news is that many silent films are available to watch online, and are in the public domain. So I will feature some here.
As I hinted at last week when discussing a film I was lukewarm about, this is a film I unabashedly love. Watching silent films is a habit, and one I admit to only practicing irregularly, so part of what makes this film stand out is that I sought this it out on my own after seeing a bit of it and watched myself. It’s quite a breathtaking experience in every way, but one can really see why German Expressionism really took hold in America and elsewhere. It’s an all encompassing approach that creates tremendous atmosphere and is ideal for horror films.
For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and a list of previously featured titles please go here.
The Fog (1980)
The first time I saw this film was quite a special experience. It was so not only because it was on the big screen (sure it was off a DVD, but still) but because it was very many years after the film’s initial release. The film is quite a magical feat.
What’s impressive to consider upon revisiting this film, following its wonderful transition to Blu-ray by the fine folks at Scream Factory, is that at its core it’s a very simple tale. In fact, it’s much like a campfire story, which is one of the things that really kick the film off. It’s what Stephen King might’ve described in Danse Macabre as a “tale of the the hook.” There’s a simple but wonderful backstory to this tale that allows many of the pivotal moments to be purely visual.
Furthermore, while some secrets about the history of Lorenzo Bay are being unveiled there is opportunity to crosscut to the simultaneous chaos ensuing. Which leads to another great thing about the film the fact that we the audience are given all the pieces, but the multi-character nature of the film leaves many of them only partially clued in.
Then, of course, there’s the rather obvious element of the fog itself. As human beings we get used to having five senses quite quickly, and having one taken away or severely impaired by something can lend itself to horrific situations, which is why so many horror films do occur at night or feature fog.
To have a film like this at any point after making something along the lines of Halloween would be impressive enough, but to have it come two years later and right before a very successful sequel and The Thing is why John Carpenter is one of the legends of the genre.
With Dean Cundey as Director of Photography and a cast featuring Adrienne Barbeau, Jamie Lee Curtis, Janet Leigh, John Houseman, Hal Holbrook and Tom Atkins there truly is little that can go wrong with a film such as this and hardly anything does. Carpenter and frequent collaborator Debra Hill here quickly frame a story with many characters that never feels rushed, confused or aimless and one that delivers many genuine chills. A true classic.
As I have been wont to do here on the site and in the Short Film Saturday theme, I love to feature the work of Georges Méliès. As it is also the time of year when the Movie Rat runs its 61 Days of Halloween theme, I figured I’d tie in the shorts in the horror milieu as well. I use the word milieu because this is a humorous take, but is still considered by many to be the first horror film. Horror, especially as many children experience through the Halloween holiday, has its whimsy and flights of fancy too; so enjoy!
The Movie Rat 