Mario Landi's Patrick Still Lives (1980)

So many awful, wonderful and sublime Italian films were born shortly after their higher-budget, legitimate cinematic brothers and sisters. Steven Spielberg's Jaws (1975) left in its bloody wake, not only the bodies of swimmers, but numerous excellent exploitation films from Italy: Enzo G. Castellari's The Last Shark (1981), Lamberto Bava's Monster Shark (1984), Joe D'Amato's Deep Blood (1989), and Bruno Mattei's masterful Cruel Jaws (1995). William Friedkin's The Exorcist (1973) vomited up its own terribly delicious Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977) by John Boorman; but across the pond, Italians delivered Alberto De Martino's The Antichrist (1974), Franco Lo Cascio and Angelo Pannacciò's Cries and Shadows (1975), and Andrea Bianchi's Malabimba (1979). The Italian subsequent features were stripped-down versions of their originals: big shark, littler boat, and more blood and the possessed with an upped ante of profanity, sexuality, and murder. The Jaws and Exorcist rip-of...er...homages are just examples of some of my favorite Italian sub-genres. I recently had the pleasure of viewing an in-name sequel to Australian Richard Franklin's Patrick (1978) by Mario Landi entitled Patrick Still Lives (1980).

Richard Frankin's Patrick (1978) is a wonderful oddity of cinema about a comatose psychokinetic patient causing havoc in his local hospital. Susan Penhaligon delivered an excellent performance as Patrick's nurse. Penhaligon carries the film, while the character Patrick never speaks a word. Patrick delivers odd scares and unique set-ups. I think Patrick is mesmerizing. However, Patrick doesn't scream universal appeal or box-office bang: it's quiet, odd, and quite bizarre. Nonetheless, Mario Landi's genre follow-up to his nasty Giallo a Venezia (1979) was made. Patrick Still Lives is a split-personality film: half slow and brooding a la Patrick and half super-sleazy gore and nastiness. Patrick (Gianni Dei) and his father, Professor Herschell (Sacha Pitoeff) are stranded on the side of the road, with the hood up on their vehicle. As Patrick looks up, a passing truck drives by and its driver tosses a bottle out the window. The bottle connects with Patrick's head, and under a minute of screen time, Patrick becomes a vegetative comatose patient. The Professor moves his son to a remote villa, where in its basement Patrick is bed ridden. Patrick is connected, mad-scientist style, to three other bed-ridden patients via an energy machine, so Patrick has the ability to fuel his psychokinetic powers. The villa also serves as a health resort, because guests are arriving. Voluptuous beauty Stella (Mariangela Giordano) arrives with Peter (John Benedy), a couple in the waning days of their relationship (separate rooms to boot). Politician Lyndon Kraft (Franco Silva) arrives with sexy younger wife, Cheryl (Carmen Russo). Good-looking hunk, David (Paolo Giusti) arrives later and encounters enigmatic Meg (Anna Veneziano) who works at the villa, mostly taking care of two ominous German Shepards. Finally, beautiful blonde Lydia Grant (Andrea Belfiore) runs the villa as the doctor's assistant. The first forty-five minutes or so of Patrick Still Lives treats the viewer to a slow (and mostly boring) insight into unnecessary character exposition and plot lines: there's all this freaky wind blowing through the trees; Meg's telling David to run far from the villa; someone's blackmailing Lyndon and that's why he's at the resort; Cheryl's overstimulated; Lydia is a good worker but she's not allowed in the basement; and Stella and Peter make idle chit-chat. The film feels more like its stalling than setting the viewer up. Landi attempts to channel the atmospheric slow build-up of Franklin's Patrick, by dropping subtle psychokinetic flourishes, such as objects moving around and the various "wind" that builds up and plagues poor Lydia. Landi does not have the patience or the cinematic talent to pull off the tone. I believe that it's more the former that Landi lacks, as the final half of the film is full on straight-up sleaze, no chaser.After the first well-orchestrated yet bloodless murder in a swimming pool, the first scene to grab the viewer is of Stella busting through the door, drunk, donning an open gown with only her panties on, to disrupt dinner. Landi leaves his camera stationary on his tripod and just lets Giordiano let it all hang out: she berates all of the characters and gets into a nasty cat fight with Cheryl on the floor. Giordiano's character makes a one-hundred and eighty degree turn: Stella becomes an aggressive seductress and indulgent drunk. In one scene, she makes her best attempts to seduce David, which ends with both characters repeatedly slapping each other. Stella's wardrobe becomes thin see-through nightgowns or no wardrobe whatsoever. Her death scene, to put it mildly, is completely offensive, gory, and repellent. In fact, all the ladies in Landi's film pretty much favor their birthday suits for the final half and gruesome gory kills become the norm. Sweet Lydia, who appeared initially as a diligent and quiet assistant to the Professor, becomes the sexual desire of Patrick. He summons her from his bed with his mind powers to have Lydia undress and pole dance for him around his bed. Lydia puts on quite the peepshow for not just Patrick but for any aroused viewer. Not much substantive dialogue happens; the would-be sub-plots of the first half fall away, as if they didn't even exist. This half of Patrick Still Lives is most reminiscent of Giallo a Venezia, and this is Landi I know. The first half feels like an Ed Wood cast-off: cheap lighting, poor framing and pacing, and very bad acting (all of which I really love, by the way). By the end of the film, the whole mystery is revealed behind the motives for the murders and it really doesn't matter. Landi's film is a sleazy, exploitive, and offensive film made in the shadow of Richard Franklin's Patrick. Who would have thought that I never saw that one coming?

Sergio Sollima's The Big Gundown (1966)

Sergio Sollima's The Big Gundown (1966) is the reflection on the reverse side of the mirror, where on the other side Alejandro Jodorowsky's esoteric, surreal, and sexual El Topo (1970) appears. Like El Topo, Sollima uses the Western genre as a canvas for his social and philosophical views, and like Jodorowsky, those views are blended perfectly within the Western convention. The result: The Big Gundown is one of the finest Westerns ever made. Lee Van Cleef, as bounty hunter Jonathan Corbett, gives one of his best performances in the genre, rivalling or topping his performances in Sergio Leone's For a Few Dollars More (1965) and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly (1966), and Tonino Valerii's Day of Anger (1967). However, Van Cleef's inclusion in any Western makes it worth seeing, and his presence might be the sole reason for viewing. Tomas Milian, as Cuchillo, would appear in Sollima's other Westerns, Face to Face (1967) and Run, Man, Run (1968). In the latter, Milian would reprise his role as Cuchillo from The Big Gundown. Milian also gives one of his best performances in the genre, and he is one of the finest actors to work in Italy during the 70s. Sollima would remake The Big Gundown as the very cool, Revolver (1973), a crime thriller, with Oliver Reed and Fabio Testi playing the Van Cleef and Milian roles, respectively.
The Big Gundown opens with three bandits on the lam who stop to take a breath at the top of a hill. Thinking they're safe for the moment with bounty hunter, Jonathan Corbett, behind them, one bandit notices a dead man dangling from a tree and an ominous-looking gunslinger smoking a pipe by a campfire. The gunslinger is Corbett (Lee Van Cleef) and he's going to collect. Whether the bandits surrender alive is completely up to them: Corbett places three bullets on a nearby stump and gives each the opportunity to attempt to kill him. The emphasis in the last sentence is on the word "attempt" and not "kill." In fact, Corbett has emptied the jail wall of wanted posters, leaving no doubt that he's the best bounty hunter alive. What's next for Corbett? The sheriff suggests that he run for Senator. Corbett's invited to a high-class party hosted by wealthy businessman, Brokston (Walter Barnes). Brokston will back Corbett in his political campaign on the condition that Corbett support Brokston's installation of a railway across Texas and into Mexico. Corbett's not completely persuaded; however, he will take the job hunting down another bandit. This time it's for the rape and murder of a twelve-year-old girl, and the suspect is Cuchillo (Tomas Milian), a Mexican with a quick wit and an even quicker hand with the knife.What follows in The Big Gundown is an exciting cat-and-mouse chase that culminates in one of the most satisfying and intense finales in all of Western cinema. While the plot and Sollima's execution is amazing alone, Sollima fills the running time with his socio-political views, especially of the power relationship between the rich and the poor. Nieves Navarro appears in one of the film's most bizarre and compelling sequences. Cuchillo escapes the grasp of Corbett for the second time and happens upon a large secluded ranch in the shadow of a mountain. Navarro, a widow, presides over the ranch in her large home and collection of cattle and ranch hands. Cuchillo wants at the minimum something to eat and drink but is also willing to work, if it's available. The crew at the ranch, much to their chagrin, allow Cuchillo to wrangle the bull in the corral. Coming close to killing him, Cuchillo survives the charging bull and the laughing ranch hands. Navarro invites him up to her home, where Cuchillo can rest and Navarro can take advantage of him. The ranch hands don't like the new visitor having his way with their matriarch, so they decide to whip and beat Cuchillo. When Corbett shows up to capture Cuchillo, Cuchillo is freed. A shootout will solve this problem for Corbett, but Sollima sees a larger one. Sollima paints an initial portrait of a seemingly idyllic view of communal life but with none of the amenities. The ranch is a cutthroat den where the competitors are vying for the top spot. The prize is the affection and attention of the wealthy beauty in the big house. Nieves Navarro is dead sexy and a perfect actress to play this role. Her fiery glances and sexy demeanor make her the perfect object of obsession and as the harsh queen leader. Navarro made other notable performances in Duccio Tessari's A Pistol for Ringo (1965), Fernando di Leo's A Wrong Way to Love (1969), Luciano Ercoli's Death Walks on High Heels (1971), and Joe D'Amato's Orgasmo nero (1980).

As he was in the ranch episode, Cuchillo is poor, misunderstood, and often exploited. Cuchillo is also extremely resourceful and exuberant. Milian portrays his character amazingly, imbuing Cuchillo with a sharp wit and an endearing sympathy. It would be an understatement to say that Van Cleef's performance is also amazing. Over the course of the film, Corbett comes to the realization of the true nature of Brokston's intentions. By the end of the film, everyone is revealed as to whom he really is. The characters of Cuchillo and Corbett become the most reluctant yet totally united brothers at the end of The Big Gundown. Sergio Sollima and Sergio Donati pen the rich screenplay, and Carlo Carlini's cinematography is absolutely gorgeous. Not least of all, Ennio Morricone composes the film's incredible score (which is playing in my head as I write this entry). See it.

Uli Edel's The Baader Meinhof Complex (2008)

Good times. Sitting shaded from the sun in her chaise, Ulrike watches her children play in the water at the beach. Through her sunglasses at the bridge of her nose, she reads a magazine article about the rich Shah of Iran and his stylish wife, who are making a diplomatic trip to Berlin soon. Ulrike writes an article for her husband's publication, voicing her opinion of the leader of Iran and the poor state of the world. At a posh party at her home, she reads the article aloud to a captive audience with applause: Ulrike's a talented writer with a gift for prose; she's a voice for a younger generation who often take to the streets in protest. Their protests are met with violence and soon the younger generations collect together to enact some violence of their own. Gudrun Ensslin is young, beautiful, a mother, and angry. Gudrun is informed about the state of her world and is ready to take action. Her lover is Andreas Baader, who's equally passionate and angry, but angry at exactly what is unknown. Baader wants to live life, like right now, and nothing is going to stop him. Gudrun and Andreas's lifestyle and attitude is attractive to Ulrike and she joins the two. Together they become the titular group in Uli Edel's The Baader Meinhof Complex (2008). Uli Edel's The Baader Meinhof Complex is a chronicle of the origins of the RAF and their terrorist actions. The film also covers the three's capture and their trial. The inception of the group begins the story, and it ends with the death of the last survivor. Over a decade of events are chronicled within the film, with accompanying shots of television, newspaper, and radio footage. Beyond the historical chronicle, Edel attempts to punctuate his film with intimate portraits of each of the main three characters. Some sequences are brilliant, and the performances are overall extremely well-done. Unfortunately, the balance between historical chronicle and intimate portrayals is uneven and unsuccessful. The final result is The Baader Meinhof Complex is a beautiful but flawed film.Ulrike Meinhof is the film's most interesting character; receives the most intimate portrayal by Edel; and Martina Gedeck gives best performance in The Baader Meinhof Complex. The film's opening imagery at the beach setting with the nude bathers, Ulrike's children playing happily in the water, and her husband giving a roving eye to a beautiful female, without dialogue, set up the idyllic life which Ulrike thinks herself is living. The photograph of the Shah of Iran and his wife in a close-up shot of the magazine, sitting in Ulrike's lap, is an effective juxtaposition of imagery, not only of events to come in the film but also the important role of the media in the events. Ulrike's prose was a powerful force for the RAF and when Gedeck reads a sample of it at the posh party, it doesn't come off as staged or forced. Gedeck really captures the passion of Meinhof with little effort. When Gudrun Ensslin is imprisoned for one of her earliest political actions, Meinhof covers her trial. Another journalist interviews Ensslin's parents, and Meinhof listens in the shadows. The parents comment upon how impassioned their daughter has become and how it seems as if Gudrun is completely "liberated." Behind her glasses, Meinhof gives a longing and jealous look: Gudrun's life of action is ultimately what Meinhof wants. Finally, in one of the more controversial scenes, in which Meinhof officially becomes a fugitive, Gedeck portrays Meinhof as a reluctant conspirator: it's almost as if Baader's impulsive nature is the catalyst for Meinhof's actions, not his political views. Later, when she is put on trial for her actions, Gedeck coveys beautifully a sense of longing and regret for her actions.Unfortunately, Edel doesn't portray Gudrun Ensslin nor Andreas Baader as intimately. Beyond her introductory scene, little of Ensslin's intellectual ability is shown in the film. Ensslin is obviously full of passion, but her dialogue is confined to short terse statements, often a comment, ironically, upon the inability of words to persuade anyone. Perhaps that was a calculated move by Edel, but the end result is a unsatisfactory rendering of her character. Johanna Wokalek gives a competent and professional performance, but ultimately, her character's main purpose is to serve as Baader's love interest in the film. Andreas Baader is an enigma. For someone who was so integral and important to the RAF, Edel, as with Gudrun Ensslin, gives little insight into the make-up of such a complex character. In the majority of the scenes, Moritz Bleibtreu plays Baader as impulsive and impatient. He rarely ever stands still or delivers a line of insightful dialogue. When the RAF makes a trip to Jordan to train at a terrorist facility, Baader has little patience with the arrangements. Segregated dormitories are backwards, and Baader thinks the training is a waste of time. In some ways, he doesn't see the RAF as an army but more like a virus in the system. The portrayal of Baader's character is as an impulsive and destructive anarchist. Seemingly, Edel's The Baader Meinhof Complex respects the historical background of the film and, for posterity, wants to cover as many of the events and its players, as possible. Edel also wants to imbue the film with as much emotion and tragedy that surrounded the original events. Giving an intimate look inside the characters is admirable, but unfortunately, Edel sacrifices characterization for history. Many collateral characters, who are important for historical accuracy, populate The Baader Meinhof Complex and they really burden the film. Edel's intentions are good, but his execution suffers from their inclusion. Even with the myriad of characters, Edel almost completely omits a perspective from the victims of the RAF. For a film that strikes an interesting and even balance of history and intimacy with its characters see David Fincher's Zodiac (2007). Focusing on one character, like Ulrike Meinhof, perhaps would have been the better course instead of such a strict adherance to history.Finally, the rich history of the actual events of this film are beyond the scope of this entry. Beyond what is written here, I express no opinion towards any cultural criticism of the actual events.

John Woo's To Hell With The Devil (1981)

Upon first glimpse, John Woo's cinema became a Pandora's box of wonder for me. Around '89 or '90, as a teenager, in a fanzine or magazine, I read an article on Woo's The Killer (1989) that described the film as hyper-violent, kinetic, and unlike any action movie that had come before it. Hunting down a copy of the video was a nightmare: from searching video stores in New Orleans (nearest cosmopolitan area) to attempting to obtain laser disc copies direct from Hong Kong, the search was fruitless. The Killer later appeared domestically on VHS in a cut, dubbed version, and I snagged a copy and was hooked on Woo cinema. Chow Yun-Fat, with guns firmly in both fists firing at a rapid rate, killed his victims with the most operatic precision, as blood flew everywhere and upon everyone. Woo's HK cinema would be fittingly titled "operatic bloodshed." The article that I had previously read was amazingly accurate and I greedily gathered every Woo film that I could get: A Better Tomorrow (1986), A Better Tomorrow 2 (1987), Bullet in the Head (1990), Once a Thief (1991), and Hard Boiled (1992). The body count of these films is astronomical, but the one thing I remember was how cool these films looked. Miles of dolly tracks must have been laid, as Woo's camera was seemingly never stationary. The camera circled around or followed the characters, either in a gun battle or sitting still smoking a cigarette. Woo's cinema also has a fondness for slow-motion and sometimes an overuse, but more often than not, its use is perfect, as if Woo knew exactly when to slow down the intense action for dramatic effect. Woo's films, finally, were often subconscious love stories between two men, and each often reached the heights of sentimentality. After Hard Boiled, Woo would make the transition to Hollywood with mixed success but has since made his welcome return to China for his epic film Red Cliff (2008). I never sought viewing the back catalog of Woo's earlier cinema. He's been directing since the late '60s, and I recently viewed one from 1981: To Hell With The Devil.

Ricky Hui plays Bruce Lee ("I don't know kung-fu, though"), who's a talented but unknown musician. His love interest is Peggy (Jade Hsu), but Bruce doesn't feel as if he's capable to provide for her. A self-absorbed and arrogant actor/singer named Rocky is Bruce's rival for Peggy's affection. While this triangle plays out on Earth, a disheartened priest, Reverend Ma (Paul Chun), gets a shot at redemption by God, a big white head who looks like Mark Twain: Satan looks like a freaky-deaky version Schreck's or Kinski's Nosferatu: Both God and Satan are battling for souls: Satan wants a collection of corrupted ones, provided by servant Flit (Shui-Fan Fung), and God wants Reverend Ma to save them. Flit and Reverend Ma are desperate to please their masters, and both unfortunately concern themselves with the soul of poor hapless Bruce. Bruce initially rejects Reverend Ma's attempts at salvation; he doesn't want anything to do with the Bible. Flit charms Bruce by giving him whatever he wants in whatever scenario that Bruce desires. Peggy holds Bruce's heart, but Flit can't give Peggy's heart to Bruce. The scenes with Flit and Bruce are the highlight of the first hour of To Hell With the Devil. The slapstick humor of Flit, as he tries to convince Bruce to sign his soul over to him, is sometimes very funny. More often, though, the comedic scenes are tired. Bruce initially becomes a superstar musician, but Peggy shrugs him off as shallow. In the second scenario, Peggy becomes an automaton, who does whatever Bruce says upon command. In the final scenario, Bruce desires a simple life with just Peggy, but she can't take living a poor life. Stanley Donen's Bedazzled (1967) is the better take on this familiar comedy. To Hell With the Devil is also unable to channel the wonderfully awful sublime vibe of Carl Reiner's Oh, God! (1977), Steven Hilliard Stern's The Devil and Max Devlin (1981), and John Herzfeld's Two of a Kind (1983). However, the final third really redeems the film and is worth waiting for, as Reverend Ma and Flit literally battle for the soul of Bruce. Woo's camera flies into motion and the film shifts oddly in tone and design. God bless him for it. The action is relentless, and the battle between Flit and Reverend Ma takes on an old school arcade flavor with the awesome accompanying arcade sounds. Hui's terrific as Bruce. Two of his more notable roles are in Ricky Lau's Mr. Vampire (1985) and Jeff Lau's wonderful The Haunted Cop Shop (1987). Shui-Fan Fung's performance as Flit also deserves praise. Fung is a familiar face in 80s HK cinema, and I loved his performance in Simon Nam's Ghost Snatchers (1986). To Hell With The Devil is a fun flick from early John Woo.

Ronny Yu's Bless This House (1988)

Western viewers, such as myself, recognize Ronny Yu from his most recent Western works, like Bride of Chucky (1998), Formula 51 (2001), and Freddy v. Jason (2003). If you're a little more super-geeky, such as myself, then you noticed Ronny Yu made one of the greatest films of Hong Kong's last golden era (before the hand over in 1997): The Bride With White Hair (1993), starring two of the period's greatest stars, Brigitte Lin and Leslie Cheung. All of the mentioned films share Yu's unique visual style. Yu is an artist with a command of camera and special effects techniques, who also is extremely experimental in his use of camera motion, colors and lights, and frame composition. His ambitions, visually, were met by larger-budget films, and each film becomes exciting to watch not only for its narrative but its unique way of being told. In addition, Yu's use of film's audio techniques exceed most of his contemporaries. However, a more in-depth discussion of Yu's later films and later techniques are for another day, while I take a look at an early HK horror/comedy film of his entitled Bless This House (1988).

Mr. Chang stays up for three days finishing his architectural designs for work. His wife receives a new pool as a gift for their baby girl, Yin Yin, and she wants to plunk it down right in the middle of the bedroom of their small apartment. Meanwhile, Mr. Chang's teenage daughter, Jane, has a new geeky boyfriend named Biggie. Biggie's a big suck-up to Jane's parents, but he'd rather be...anyhoo, Mr. Chang's designs are a big hit at the office. A promotion and new house awaits the Chang family and even Biggie's excited about it. The Changs arrive and notice the house is a little odd, a little dusty, and a little weird. A one-eyed crazy man hangs around outside and tells everyone in the family to leave. Biggie starts breaking everything around the house. Jane begins fixing, and while working on the wallpaper, she uncovers a bizarre child-like mural hidden underneath (like Dario Argento's Deep Red (1975)). After Biggie's molested on the couch, it's time to call in the exorcist.

Bless This House is all over the place, both its plot and its visual style. Watching the exorcist getting his ass whipped (literally and figuratively) by a vacuum cleaner is worth the price of admission alone. Bless This House's combination of slapstick humor and scares is evocative of Sam Raimi's Evil Dead (1981), Stuart Gordon's Reanimator (1985), Peter Jackson's Bad Taste (1987), and Jim Munro's Street Trash (1987). There's barely a lick of gore, however, in Bless This House, but it's not shy on the cheesy make-up effects and mayhem. The jokes are of the supernatural and atmospheric variety: spooky dark nights, ghostly mirrors, objects moving, and the scariest and most humorous, demonic possession. The final fifteen minutes are standout in the scare department. The plot of Bless This House is a mixed bag, but Yu's visuals are something else. The most notable is Yu's use of the wide-angle lens combined with sweeping camera movement. The camera moves closely into characters' faces and with the wide-angle lens the characters' expressions become polarized and bigger-than-life. Raimi used this technique in Evil Dead and Jackson used it well in the The Frighteners (1994). Alternatively, Yu uses a wide-angle lens combined with a still shot and has his characters fall into the camera. Just by keeping the camera still and moving the actors, Yu creates a different, yet still disorienting, effect. Like Robert Rodriguez in El Mariachi (1992), Yu will shoot sequences with three to four camera angles, then edit them together, instead of one long camera shot. This technique hides a lower-budget, but it also makes innocuous and mundane actions seem interesting. Quick cuts are also employed when the camera is sped up, so the characters are looking as if they are flying across the room. This technique also hides the lower budget of the film, but it also adds to its kinetic nature. Like Tsui Hark in The Butterfly Murders (1979), Yu is not content with traditional close-ups and medium shots: faces and characters are framed arbitrarily and normally, characters walk into the still frame from the right or left, rise from the bottom into the frame, or fall from the top. To top it off, Bless This House also has wire work and animation and some seriously cheesy make-up effects.

All of the filmmakers mentioned in this entry went on to become successful directors and all have in common their exhaustive use of creative visual tricks. Bless This House is certainly dated and weak in a lot of spots, but it also shows an extremely talented director near the beginning of his career. Recent low-budget filmmakers could take lessons from Bless this House, and viewers looking for excitement in the CGI age can discover this small treasure.

F. Javier Gutierrez's Before the Fall (Tres Dias) (2008)

Alejandro goes by the shortened Ale and awakened one morning by a crow cawing at his window, he rises to his mother cooking breakfast and a television with a broken signal. Angry at the prospect of another workday filled with tedious tasks and complaints, Ale sets out with his symbolic ladder and pauses briefly to look longingly at the young pregnant woman standing at her balcony. He curses under his breath and goes to the local bar to fix the television. As Ale stands next to his ladder, the television signal returns with a news reporter who proclaims that a meteor is headed for Earth to impact within three days. The countdown starts to the end of existence. Ale takes perverse comfort in the fact that he does not have to work anymore, but his mother becomes worried about her grandchildren by her other son, Tomas. Her grandchildren live outside the city in the shadow of the cement factory, where a momentous event happened years ago involving Ale, his brother, and a child murderer. The child murderer, freed from prison with the impending apocalypse, prompts Ale's mother to retreat to the countryside to protect the children. Ale accompanies her. As such and as I always do, the majority of the plot should remain hidden and also the choices the characters make in the film, which will undoubtedly divide viewers. F. Javier Gutierrez's Before the Fall's (2008) rendering of the character Ale composes the majority of the film's interest beyond the fantastic story of impending doom. Following Ale's spiritual journey lays the heart of Before the Fall. Ale feels like a victim his whole life (a feeling both merited and exaggerated), stemming from the shadow of the cement factory. Over the course of the final days, Ale finds value in life. Whether its a definite three days or an indeterminate amount of time, the actions which humans make reflect their essential values. Before the Fall shows the negative side of life: what's the point of anything, if it's all just going to be over soon. Ale quickly abandons his friend, in one scene, shouted from a window. His friend needs protection from a group of thugs, but any protection would mean nothing. Protection from what? Ale walks away from his window and lays in his bed in his shadowed room. Ale over the course of Before the Fall abandons this position and eventually learns what he values in life. Before the Fall also speaks to the notions of one's past, present, and future. Ale's past is what makes up his character, and when he learns that the future is limited, the present and the ones that he loves become important.
F. Javier Gutiérrez directed two previous films before Before the Fall, with this being the first of his that I've seen. Like the majority of cinema made today, the film really makes use of modern technology: the cameras used and the techniques employed capture some of the most beautiful imagery. The Spanish countryside, wide and expansive and somewhat desolate, juxtaposed with the crowded Spanish town, with its beautiful architecture and streets full of people, provide the most luscious scenery. Nothing's left to soft focus: the detail in the cobblestones in the streets from watching wind flow through the strands in the fields. In one of my favorite sequences, the camera pans from the characters to the cement factory to the wide open spaces, a powerful scene within the film. I love also the pacing of the film: even with the short time that the characters have to live, the film doesn't move frenetically. Before the Fall takes its time to develop its characters, their character arcs, and the story. Víctor Clavijo deserves praise for his performance. This character truly makes a journey, and Clavijo delivers the subtlety and the emotions of Ale. In fact, all of the performances moved me, especially the child actors. A huge warning: some truly scary scenes of violence towards children happen in the film. Before the Fall is full of interesting ideas and images and will, undoubtedly affect everyone on some level. Stumbling upon films like Before the Fall is one of my favorite things about cinema, and I hope some others discover this one.

Patrik Syversen's Manhunt (Rovdyr) (2008)

In an one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn from Norway, Patrik Syversen's Manhunt (Rovdyr) (2008) flies away from the traditional, classic horror of Roar Uthaug's Cold Prey (2006) and Mats Stenberg's Cold Prey 2 (2008). Manhunt epitomizes the current trend in recent horror, where kidnapping is the craze; torture's the trend; and the violence is, to put it lightly, very, very brutal. I cannot really call myself a fan of this genre nor can I say that I'm hostile to it. Greg Mclean's Wolf Creek (2005) kept me engrossed and impressed for its running time, but it was Pascal Laugier's Martyrs (2008) that really raised my eyelids and told me not to write this horror trend off. While not meeting its goal, Martyrs came close to bridging the gap between horror fans on both sides of the torture/kidnapping genre. In addition, Norway has produced two of this decade's best horror films, so let's see if Manhunt accomplishes the hat trick.Set in 1974 with a somewhat foreshadowing song on the radio, four friends have got their van on the road for a trip to the country. Pretty and sweet Camilla (Henriette Bruusgaard) rides shotgun, while her dominating and possessive boyfriend, Roger (Lasse Valdal) drives. Mia (Nini Bull Robsahm, also co-writer) sits in the back and doesn't like the way Roger treats Camilla as shy Jorgen (Jorn-Bjorn Fuller-Gee) sits quietly. Stopping for gas and getting a bite to eat becomes a bad idea: an old bum in a toilet stall gives Camilla a nasty scratch, while the locals in the cafe bark at the city kids. Roger doesn't ignore them and gets in their face. Mia has had it: she cannot stand Roger's treatment of Camilla and his domineering attitude. A young woman, Renate (Janne Beate Bones), squirms in a nearby booth, scared of someone coming or someone already there. Roger offers her a ride, while Mia opposes, but the remaining three reluctantly agree. A short time later on the road, the five try to make a quick stop which becomes a permanent one.With imagery evocative of Ruggero Deodato's Cannibal Holocaust (1980), Manhunt's visuals are quite nasty and quite compelling. The film moves frenetically and flies under eighty minutes. Sick still shots punctuate the drama, while quick cuts show some brutal gore. While the gore appears quite disturbing, Syversen can disturb without it. One scene which I wish I wouldn't have seen involves Camilla, her captor, and a shotgun. When the film moves beyond its exposition and into the action, the substantive dialogue ceases: just the characters and their actions. The central location of a forest and its composition of fall colors, such as brown, gold, and light yellow, are soothing alone; but with the images of blood, Camilla running through the forest, and the tense confrontations, the forest imagery gives away. The viewer wants to be lulled peacefully, but Syversen doesn't allow it. Manhunt is a great-looking film. The actresses really standout in this one: Henriette Bruusgaard, as Camilla, is terrific. She creates the sweetest and most lovable character, which Syversen has no problem dragging through hell and back. Janne Beate Bones's role is also quite good, which relies primarily upon her fearful facial expressions and her body language. She conveys everything that her character embodies with her physical actions. Nini Bull Robsahm's Mia is a strong character and well-portrayed. Finally, the director, Patrik Syversen creates quite the creative flick. Manhunt is full of subversive material and ironic twists. Some of his compositions are haunting and his pacing is flawless.
However, Manhunt, overall, overwhelmed me: far too brutal to be enjoyable and not one for a revisit anytime soon. I, however, do quite admire it, as I do Martyrs. However, I think that I learned the essence of the whole torture/kidnapping genre with the first film that I saw. All subsequent ones, some admirable and some terrible, usually leave me cold. I guess that this genre is not supposed to be entertaining, but to be experienced. But yeah, thanks, I'll experience something else.