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March 9, 2019

Movie Review: "Guardians" (2017; Big Cinema House/Enjoy Movies/Renovatio Entertainment/Shout Factory)


…sigh!! Every year…or perhaps these days, it’s better to say, every few weeks…’it’s the same old story’…

…huh-boy!! Here we go again, folks!! The dust hardly settles from the dynamic, albeit overrated impact of the last great big blow-hard superhero movie, and before you know it, along comes another one…with a heavy sigh, followed by a deftly hand-gestured ‘yank, yank, yank’. Ah, me…alright, good or bad, whether we like it or not, lay it on us. What do we got, this time?? Another dark and brooding hero type, dedicated to a ruthless combat of the criminal types who left him without family?? Even more genetically mutated wonders, endowed with powers to defeat the evils of a world that superficially sees the heroes as mere freaks of nature?? Can there possibly be one more deal with the devil, with the person who made the deal, afforded dark powers to be used in the devil’s servitude, to which that person then reneges on said deal, and instead uses the powers for goodness, rather than badness. Is this world big enough for yet one more super powered alien…the last of his race, sent to this world, in an effort to preserve his heritage, and at the same time, lay roots in a new home, with a new people, which he swears to defend against fiendish perpetrators of evil and crime, both earthly and other-worldly??

…yeah, sing it again, and again, and again, Bonnie…”…isn’t there a white knight, upon a fiery steed??”…huh-boy…sigh, with a bowed head shake and eyeball roll (…nope!! Not suffering from superhero movie fatigue here, folks…nope, not at all…sigh…)…

…ah yes, the stories are varied…the characters, countless…the attitudes, like someone with bipolar affliction, ever- changing on a dime. Of course, there’s also the assumed set and/or adjusted expectations of the masses, especially from the viewpoint of those geek-savvy with the popular arts, who might be familiar with it all, via the hallowed pages of those four-colored, multi-paneled comic rags. Really, at some point, one cannot help but feel that all these stories, characters and situations invariably blend into each other, to the point where we, the paying audience, pretty much rolls our eyes, let out a sigh, take in the next superhero movie…driven with an almost commercially manufactured ‘do whatever the crowd does’ anticipation…then, just short of tossing that movie aside, followed by the sigh-instilling after-thought of ‘harrumph…OK, next?’, here comes another generic, assembly-line, cookie cutter episode of super powered daring do, with about damn near the same goals, intermingled with the same conflicts and the same personal problems…

…really, it’s totally understandable, when…after so many of these ‘same-old, same-old’ superhero movies gone by, and still to come…well, we just can’t help but jump the fence, and start rooting for the villains, rather than the heroes. Hey...no secret that the bad guys are insurmountably much more interesting, alluring and fun, than the good guys anyways, right??...

…and yet, despite all this yah-dah-dah, yah-dah-dah, wah-fucking-wahhing, what do we do?? Why, we just saunter our butts right back up to that thar’ ticket booth, and once again fork over our hard-earned simolians, for yet another jaw-dropping, eye-poping, head-droning, rock ‘em/sock ‘em, CGI-oversaturated super-powered epic. It’s kinda like that old George Carlin ‘ice cream’ gag…you know, you eat the ice cream, you get that painful brain freeze, you rub away that excruciatingly cold spot in your throat, and afterwards, what do you do?? Eat more ice cream!! Gotta quote ol’ George in saying, “…what, are we fucking stupid??”…

…truth be known…yeah, yeah sure…admittedly, amidst the polished and clean-cut assembly-line standard and stereotype, as far as the seemingly never-ending superhero movie genre…every few films or so, our fine tinsel-town filmmakers, writers and directors do manage to invoke an unconventional twist, a skewed change in tone, a rebellious attitude, a more jovially flavoring, which genuinely manages to breathe at least some measure of fresh new life into the stale, by-the-numbers proceedings. A generous whiff of ‘hey, what if’ into the mix-master…maybe something a bit original to liven things up, perhaps beyond that of what might have already been done or written. Something like…well, like
…come, as we shift the locale, and the time circuits to…oh say, Russia…during the Cold War, some 40 odd years previous…when, under the cloak of absolute government secrecy, two renowned scientists devise a lucrative and ambitious project, code named ‘Patriot’…the sole purpose of which is directed towards experimental human genetic manipulation, in an effort towards creating super-powered soldiers. Well, now…it seems that one of the scientists…Professor Kuratov…having something more than a difference of opinion with his scientist partner, as far as the speed and direction of the project’s science and application, goes rogue, steals the project’s research data, and begins initiating his own experiments on chosen ‘volunteers’; the military, hard and fast on the hunt for Kuratov, catches up with him…though the professor’s capture is thwarted when he blows up his own laboratories, and presumably himself, in the process…
…four decades later, Kuratov inexplicably returns; however, he has since become quite scarred and mentally screwed, assuming crazed delusions of grandeur, and having harnessed a cache of artificially endowed psychic powers over all electronics and mechanical devices. Stealing military weaponry and prototypes, Kuratov instigates a path of destruction, with the ultimate intent upon assuming worldwide control over all man-made mechanics and technology…
…with a good measure of caution and reluctance, the Russian military re-initiates the ages-old ‘Patriot’ program, and launches a countrywide search for any of the numerous, now-super-powered, and hopefully still living human ‘guinea pigs’, who were invariably discarded and scattered across the continent, soon after Kuratov explosively eighty-sixed his work…all now rumored to be living out their lives in conflicting, bittersweet peace and secrecy. The covert military search manages to find four of them: Ursus (Anton Pampushnyy), a young and rugged-looking scientist, living in isolation deep in the sheltering Siberian forests, and possessing the ability to willfully transform himself partially or completely into a hulking and powerful beast of a bear. Khan (Sanjar Madi), discovered in white sand desert wastelands…there, applying his martial arts skills as a darkly clad mercenary…is armed with large, crescent-shaped, scythe-like swords, and has the ability to move at lightning speed. A weathered and elderly, monk-like farmer named Ler (Sebastien Sisak), has staked claim in the war-scarred battlements of a castle’s ruins…his power, the ability to move and manipulate the very earth and surrounding rock formations, beneath his feet. And found applying her unique abilities of underwater invisibility to the awed delight of an appreciative audience…applauding witnesses to a lavishly staged magic show, Xenia (Alina Lanina) completes the sought team of reluctant super-powered dissidents…
…bitter, reluctant and bewildered, considering a tortured past which they’d rather forget, or have outright forgotten altogether…the genetically altered foursome, despite inner conflict and reservations, find a common purpose with which to bond with…the capture and persecution of the one that created them…an old adversary who is as powerfully altered as they are. But will their combined might, as difficult as that proves to be to assemble, be enough to see them through the impending battle…a battle, which although their first, might well be their last??...
…now, right out the gate…the most intriguing ‘cะปoh’ (…read: 'elephant') in the room, is the front & center fact that…hey, we’re like, talking Russian superheroes here, folks. OK, yeah…we’ve sorta been here before, given that, despite a certain beloved, Slavic-accented, metal-skinned member of the X-Men…not to mention, the imaginatively alternative reality ‘what if’ published exploits of a certain legendary interstellar ‘man of steel’, told from the perspective of having landed, as an infant, in a Ukrainian Farm commune, vice a vast, albeit random Kansas grain field, the idea of super-powered heroes, originating from Russia…yeah, this sort of thing nonetheless remains a rather unique and novel one. And as far as the fictional superhero realm, as a whole, the mere suggestion ideally mirrors a juxapositioned measure of creative literary arrogance, that presumptuously dictates…for the most part…that the crust of the superhero populous would exclusively and stereotypically originate from these 'might makes right', wholesome ‘apple pie and stars ‘n’ stripes’ domestic shores…
…indeed, in retrospect of having seen “Guardians”, and genuinely walking away with a respectable amount of appreciation for the notably flawed, though moderately engaging drama, dynamic action and rousing adventure, featuring a new, albeit clearly inspired rag-tag band of cross-continental, super-powered rogues…yes, inspired, but a wholly original-enough written crew, as opposed to the already set-forth ‘comic page panel to silver screen’ translations from the renowned minds, over at Marvel and DC…this reviewer is of the subsequent opinion that…yeah, there might well be room enough for this special brand of ultra-powered misfit daring doers, in the hallowed and honored annuls of the superhero film genre…
…and a rather unconventional, albeit relatable and tragic crew of regionally diversified misfits, this motley bunch most assured are. Ursus, the burly and seclusive were-bear scientist…later armed with a gargantuan-sized, psychically directional version of the ol’ Painless Gatling gun, from ‘Predator’…harbors inner torture, conflict and insecurity, in the sense that every time a desperate situation necessarily calls for him to initiate his monstrous and beastly transformation, he fears losing control one day, in finding the inability to become human again. The weathered and burnt-out loner Ler, who’s powers are supplemented by the military, enabling him to string and weld conjoined pieces of rock into an electro-plasma-charged whip, is the most defiant of the quartet, as far his reluctantly gifted abilities…preferring to remain in solitude, but nonetheless finds vengeful purpose in being recruited into the team. Xenia invariably, though later willingly joins up in an effort to shed light upon her past…a clouded past, which she has absolutely no memory of; she is later provided with a specialized suit that enables her to control her invisibility at will, as well as being able to focus those powers on anything she touches. And then, there’s the zen-spirited, ninja-like Khan…for the impending battle, retrofitted with an impenetrable armor…though preferring to further his solo fervor as a hired soldier-of-fortune, nonetheless brings his extraordinary talents to the table, if only to do what is right, in thwarting a world threatening megalomaniac, welding a formidably disastrous and destructive power…
…for the most part, the able-bodied cast is adequate to the varied and diversified characters they portray; however, much like the film’s reluctant superhero components needing to cooperate with each other…work with each other, to exude that classic ‘sum of the whole is far greater than the individual parts’ ideology, “Guardians” shines best when this misfit ensemble share their screen time, as opposed to individual focus. In fact, the more notably singular standout characters, though affecting, are not even directly associated with the team itself. Actress Valeriya Shkirando proves a more dynamic presence on the screen, than even our hapless superhero entities…channeling an alluring and feminine ‘Nick Fury’ like presence in the proceedings, in playing the military’s Major Larina. And as an equally dynamic adversary type, Stanislav Shirin deliciously plays up the over-the-top, ‘crazy but not stupid’ card, as the super-mega-charged megalomaniac Kuratov…so much so, in fact, one might genuinely believe this totally formidable, mad and insane character could potentially give any number of the Marvel or DC goodie-goodies, a run for their money. Crossover, anyone??...
……to the film’s credit…eh, definitely better than some, but falling short of greatness…the overall production values and visual dynamics seem to fall with the range of…oh say, just short of your basic big-bucks Marvel ensemble entry, and one of the more ambitiously reaching fantasy films, culled from the budget-driven knock-off/mockbuster folks, over at The Asylum. Yet surprisingly enough, and going into “Guardians” with an open mind, the imperfections…as far as the level of, the unpolished quality of, and the interchanging chemistry between the CGI, optical and practical special effects…are pretty much acceptable, forgivable, and really not all that distracting (…as opposed to the demanding expectations, versus the resulting imperfect visuals of Marvel’s recent ‘Captain Marvel’ domestic release…though fleeting, but very distracting…but that’s a whole other story). Also to the film’s credit…the outstanding, though economic set designs, the nice integration of outer locales with the special effects (…the city-rampaging ‘bug robots’ were pretty cool, reminding me of a more up-scaled and ‘lifelike’ version of the ‘animated’ grid bugs, in 1982’s “Tron”), and the slick, varied & extraordinarily detailed prop and costume work…overall and clearly, a matter of resourcefully making so little, look like a helluva lot…a higher level of the ‘silk purse, out of a sow’s ear’ type of economic production, so to speak…
…storywise, the approach to this material has it wearing a distinctly dark and stone-cold cloak of air, with sort of forced moments of levity, and a mostly haunting soundtrack (…the ‘Guardians’ theme, is particularly and memorably mesmerizing), which anyone on these shores might stereotypically expect, considering this is a Russian production; however, that’s also what makes these dynamic proceedings surprising…that Russian filmmakers herein, vied for the stereotype, or what might have been expected, versus something wholly unconventional and unexpected (…this, among other reasons, might possibly explain why the film was unanimously lambasted by Russian and European audiences, upon initial theatrical release). Oh, without a doubt, the basic superhero crust is there…with clearly notable and inspired nods towards the Avengers (…and the team’s singular components), the X-Men, and Guardians of the Galaxy…but the core of the premise itself…from the characters, to the story components and set-up… seems not unlike that of classic paper dolls, with their interchangeable variety of ‘fold-the-tab-over’ clothing, and the clearly mad clothier was left to the whims of his wild imagination, in doing the clothing…adding layer upon layer…until you have something totally absurd and outrageous, yet still oddly appealing…
…short and sweet (…as usual with me, far too late for that), for a superhero film best watched in the original Russian language, with subtitles (...the domestic dubbing is a little on the silly side), “Guardians” is not a particularly great entry into the mass super-powered hero relay…but it is a respectably good and worthwhile one...original, in an inspired way (...i.e., not based upon any direct literary source, but taking it's cues from other, higher-profile sources), which cries out in curiosity, towards being further explored (…a reportedly financial flop in Russia, the lead production company went bankrupt…though, a proposed sequel , co-produced and co-financed with filmmakers in China, has not been ruled out; take my money now, guys...I'm in); in culinary terms, the film is like half-baked chocolate chip cookie dough, in that it’s not quite all the way done yet, but it’s still pretty damn tasty and eatable. Can you imagine what they'd have, and we’d subsequently have, if they’d just let that puppy cook to it’s full potential??

...uh, should the folks over at Marvel and DC be concerned, or worried??



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March 6, 2019

A Binge too Far #3: A duo of new American Guinea Pigs

Mary (Jessica Cameron) in American Guinea Pig: The Song of Solomon (2017)
Based loosely on the notorious video sensations Guinea Pig (1985 – 1989) Stephen Biro’s Unearthed Films (the original’s U.S. distributors) has created the American Guinea Pig series of films (2014 – present), and here we present you the two new installments.

American Guinea Pig: Sacrifice (2017) R1 BD.
American Guinea Pig: Sacrifice (2017)

Suffering from a variety of psychological traumas (the most important being the death of his beloved father), Daniel (Roberto Scorza, in his debut) goes on a self-destructing binge, during which he will torture himself in a variety of ways that will supposedly enhance his enlightening (one of them involves a symbolic drill to his head) and will all make sense (in some sort of way) in the film’s finale, which I won’t spoil.

Shot on video, which is quite problematic, especially during close-ups and daytime shots, but is also totally understandable due to the film’s nonexistent budget, this is an exercise in violence for violence’s sake, as all we get to see is torture for a brief 63 minutes.

You are obviously here for the practical gore effects though, and you should be assured that those are top-notch. Also, Samuel Marolla’s debut screenplay is offering some attempts at poetry, that surprisingly do work most of the time. An interesting rant about Trump building walls, Britain’s Brexit, and the suffering of refugees is so much to the point as it is uncomfortable. And speaking of uncomfortable, the set-pieces involving the protagonist’s nails and penis are a bit too hard to stomach.

Essentially, director Poison Rouge’s [A Taste of Phobia (2018)] film is about the journey of a paranoid man, and as such, it works in spades.

American Guinea Pig: The Song of Solomon (2017).
American Guinea Pig: The Song of Solomon (2017)

Upon his suicide, a middle-aged man is transferring the demon that was possessing him to his daughter Mary [Jessica Cameron from Camel Spiders (2011)]. After science (i.e. family counselor, psychiatrist, and the like) is deemed incapable of doing anything about the young girl, help is asked by the Catholic Church, who in turn see that this case has much more on its plate than a simple demonic possession.

Stephen Biro wrote the screenplay, which is predictably too similar to The Exorcist (1973), as you know, all scripts about demonic possession must be, and what really sets this apart from this classic and its myriad copies is the extreme gore special effects by Marcus Koch (again, an expected standard from an Unearthed Films production). But aside of all that Chris Hilleke’s cinematography is so slick that what we have here is probably producer/director Stephen Biro’s most mainstream-looking film ever. This may help it go places (it played a few festivals already), but unfortunately takes a lot away from the Guinea Pig experience, which is about more raw aesthetics. However, although this is never a positive experience (there are several splatter scenes on display that are difficult to stomach), it is a very entertaining film that gore-hounds should not miss.

Afterword


Unearthed Films just added those two worthy releases to its long catalogue of violent relics, and accompanied both BD releases with impressive packages that include tons of extras, so gore-hounds should give away their cash immediately!

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March 3, 2019

Movie Review: "Death Kiss" (2017; Millman Productions/Mosquito Entertainment/Uncorked Entertainment)



…”…I’m just a bill…yes, I’m only a bill…and someday I’m gonna be a law-w-w-w…oh, I hope and pray that I will, but today I am still…just a bill…”…

…no secret that in order to make for a good exploitation film…and we’re focusing on a pretty wide window, here…from the thrifty ‘30’s, to today’s torrid toddies…the classic exploitation film…well, it just has to have something to exploit, right?? A gimmick, for lack of a better word. And over the almost 100-year span of cult film history, gimmicky exploitation films have come and gone…the less enduring gimmicks, fading as surely as a film fades to black, but permanently (…hey, I’m looking at you, ‘Terror of Tiny Town’, ‘Zaat’ and ‘Lambada, the Forbidden Dance’, just to name a scant few of the come, gone and went’s)…

…however, it also stands to reason, with history having often dictated…given a well-written rendering, some dynamically memorable visuals & direction…not to mention, some accompanying performances to play alongside…well, that lil’ ol’ exploitation gimmick may well unexpectedly find itself nurtured and transmogrified into a genre…proudly and shamelessly rearing it’s muck-crusted visage into the sun…or rather onto the flickering screen of countless anytown cinematic cathedrals, indoor and outdoor…again, and again, and again…

…now, we could spend ages here, b’wees ‘n’ goils, listing and covering an endless string of cult film genres (…and truth be known, I almost did, in my own imitable, albeit exhausting fashion…uh, can you say ‘rewrite’??), from dusty grungy biker flicks, to the sex-crazed, catfight-instilling antics of women behind bars…from the far-northern offerings of Canuxploitation (…that’s Canada, to you and me), to the deep-southern reaches of ozploitation (…oh, those Aussies), and as far easterly as the home of the giallo, the spaghetti western, and the Nazi camp nasties…all of this and more, as seen from the countless steamy, musky-smelling aisles of the pitch-black inner-city grindhouse theater balconies…as well as the equally steamy and musky, albeit cramped confines of a free-wheein’ convertible at the local drive-in…

…interestingly enough, some of the more obscure and lesser exploitation genres were based directly upon specific things, specific places…even specific people and characters. Which might explain why in the ‘spaghetti western’ genre, we had countless, though mostly un-associated films on the Django and Sartana characters. Chum-chompin’ shark-spoitation, anyone?? Down home, red-necked, okie single-toothed, Kentucky- fried Hixsploitation?? Can’t get enough perversely sacrilegious, virginal deflowering Nunspoitation, right?? And leave us not forget about ass-kickin’, chop-socky Bruce-sploitation, or even Travolta-sploitation (…the single movie of which I covered herein, some years ago, with “John Travolto... da un insolito destino”…also known as “The Face with Two Left Feet”). Or how about…well, this
…Anna, a young and attractive single mother, having abruptly moved from the deliberating scourges of inner-city violence, to the seemingly peaceful, safe and reassuring country outskirts with her invalid, wheelchair-restricted daughter, is nonetheless made uneasy and cautious, when she receives mysterious packages in the mail, containing very large sums of money. As the packages continue to arrive, with no sign of who and where they might be from, Ana becomes gradually aware of an ever-vigilant and equally mysterious stranger in the distance, keenly watching the both of them with a certain elating and seemingly protective satisfaction…
…unbeknownst to Ana, this mysterious stranger…when he’s not holding a dedicated vigilance over her and her daughter…has ruthlessly staked a bloody and vengeful claim of private justice over the criminals, thieves and drug dealers in the neighboring city area, violently gunning them down in retributive cold blood, and taking their money. In the midst of relentlessly wading through a seemingly never-ending siege of slimy and grungy criminal element…with guns a-blazing, this urban terminator, slowly but surely, makes his way through the city’s crime-driven ranks, to the one nefarious perpetrator who appears to be in the center of it all…and there’s a very just, harrowing and specific reason why he’s seeking him out, at all costs…
…now, setting the wayback machine to…say, about early-to-mid ‘80’s, or so…specifically, back in Cannon Pictures reigning golden era of filmmaking…this budding reviewer and longtime fan of the great Charles Bronson, at the time, was made flashing privy via televised interviews, pictures and printed celebrity rags, of the incredible resemblance of Mr. Bronson, and his striking lookalike stand-in performer. In recalling, it was absolutely uncanny, the resemblance between the two…but for the time, the startling revelation was alas, a fleeting moment, and in all honesty, this cult film fan didn’t get a name, to match the lookalike face…

…some 35 years later…specifically, a couple years ago…along came well under the radar, a trite albeit competent and engaging lil’ western-themed thriller, called “From Hell to the Wild West”. A notable, though negligible lil’ sliver of an exploitation flick, the clever storyline of which speculates what actually happened to Jack the Ripper, once his bloody and murderous reign of terror and death in the dark and murky alleys of Whitechapel, abruptly and mysteriously ceased in the late 1800’s. However, given the film’s poster art and home video cover art, it wasn’t as much the interesting storyline that stood out…but the striking-in-appearance casting of Hungarian-hailed actor Robert Kovacs Bronzi, as a determined old west lawman, on the hunt for a ruthless and bloodthirsty serial killer, plaguing the local prairie townships…

…so now, we have a name to a rather strikingly familiar face…
…2018’s ”Death Kiss”…Robert Bronzi’s second feature film, and the second of four films to date…despite not having any solid, or even outright original substance or storyline, save for the typical and stereotyped ‘cold-hearted vigilante’ movie genre standards, similar to those set forth by the likes and dynamics of late great Charles Bronson, back in his ‘Death Wish’ days…surprisingly enough, under the able direction of up & coming schlock director Rene Perez, plays out as sort of an offshoot of a Paul Kersey-like character’s nocturnal and lawless homicidal mayhem…kinda like ol’ Paul was in the midst of one of his typically ‘blow ‘em away with extreme prejudice’ vigilante rampages, when something ‘offscreen’ went drastically awry enough to instill the need for taking care of this lil’ sideline thing, before getting back to business…with we, the viewers, being fortunate witness privy to that abrupt detour…
…really, in melding movie fantasy with reality…when the final ‘Death Wish’ film credits scrolled down the screen, surely you would think that Paul Kersey himself couldn’t have taken a breather from his bang-bang, sole justice driven shenanigans…impatiently waiting until that next sequel flashed it’s opening title card?? (…uh, I think not…clearly, the man’s got better things to do, if you know what I mean…with the lasting hint of righteously rampant blood spray, followed by a flashing whiff of bullet cartridge sulfur)…
…but despite the generic ‘Death Wish’ like, cookie-cutter action and generic storyline clock works offered herein…well dammit, there’s just no looking away from how damn freaking ‘is it real or is it Memorex/not the Beatles, but an incredible simulation’ striking it is, in seeing ‘Charles Bronson’ back on the screen, even though it’s not actually ‘the man’ himself. In effect, actor Robert Bronzi has offered up a clearly exploitative opportunist gimmick, but at the same time, it seems a loving and respectful tribute to an urban action star, long missed by fans…

…rounding out the cast…Eva Hamilton is quite vulnerable, relatable and  sympathetic as Anna, a perceptive waif of a gal who not only instigated an abrupt move to the serene countryside, in a desperate effort to get away from the violently cold, cruel and heartless city streets, as well as provide a much more stable and loving family life for her daughter…a tragic victim of those cold and hardened streets…but also in hopes of finding penance for the tainted life she once led…a life that has instilled overwhelming guilt in Ana’s heart, in believing that the mistakes and misgivings of this past life were indirectly responsible for her daughter’s invalid condition…
…cast in the role of an angst radio talk show host (…in a sort of slightly ironic years-later performance which indirectly reflects back to his brother Alec’s supporting character play, in 1988’s ‘Talk Radio’), Daniel Baldwin chimes in, playing a sort of supportive over-the-air mouthpiece to Robert Bronzi’s/the stranger’s deadly nocturnal vengeance, deftly putting into words what violently drastic actions this righteously lawless ‘champion’ is engaging in, and the effects of those actions on the city populous...and truth be known, he may well have a personally informed connection with this dark instigator of private justice…
…Richard Tyson…one of the busiest, albeit very underappreciated character actors working today (…good gawd!! Is that…it that actually Buddy Revell, from 1987’s “Three o’clock High”??)…completes this associated circle of characters, retching out a colorful, though typically cold, hard criminal type…perverse and sadistic…who finds himself the invariable target of an equally cold and hard vigilante, without knowing in the onset why he’s being targeted…but of course, if there’s any truth or routine to films of this particular genre…well, he will know, and he will pay…
…”Death Kiss” may well be short on substance, but it makes up for it’s stunted fervor, in favor of some nicely standard character play, as well as an interestingly woven, albeit threadbare storyline, which does attain a moderately satisfying revelation in the end. It’s a low-rent ‘cliff notes’ variation on the old Charles Bronson ‘Death Wish’ motif, that’s engaging enough to warrant more than just a mere curious look, and…yeah, we’re beating a dead horse here…but damn, there’s just no getting over that freakin’ resemblance of Bronzi’s character…over and above merely being played by the numbers, using the exploitative Bronson template…
might there be a respectable amount of sustainable life and staying power in this gimmick?? Hey, Bronson-sploitation, anyone?? Eh, could be…ah hell, why not, right??.....


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February 25, 2019

Movie Review: "Phantasmagoria" (2017; Phantasma Disques/Limited)



(…in all honesty, this is one of those genre films best experienced and appreciated…multiple times, if need be…before reading a review, especially one such as what follows, as it unavoidably…well, it doesn't necessary give away too much, in as much as it might measurably curtail and dilute the mind-blowing experience of watching the film itself. Hey...wouldn't want to water down that ‘what the fuck did I just see’ experience, do we?? Just saying, in advance…)…

…”…go to Poland”, they said…”…cover this strange story”, they said…”…nothing will happen”, they said…

…uh, can you say, “…famous last words”??...

…as Rod Serling, at one time, so succinctly coined, “…submitted for your approval”, we have…a grossly decrepit, eroded, rain drenched European ghost town…screaming birds in a cage…screaming trees in a blood-red forest…a malevolent creature, initiating and overseeing macabre proceedings, with fish-eyed clarity of vision…mesmerized contorting nuns in a hotel room…blind girls, with their eyes plucked out, wandering aimlessly…topless nuns, wearing red cloaks, invoking petty evil…gas masks, and constricting black lace cocoons…investigative reporters, who just happened to be knowledged in exorcism…a harrowing and tragic legend of two sisters, one blind, the other evil…submissive, kneeling nuns, being forced to throat crucifixes…a quick, pre-flight drink of laundry detergent(?)…not to mention more nuns, with mechanical tentacles, streaming from their mouths, and draped over crucifixes…

…uh, yeah right…not exactly frosty flaked, Saturday morning kiddie cartoon fare, to be sure…or, for the sake of subtle eloquence…WTF!!!...

…as a would be writer, much like any imaginative scribe might be, this reviewer often time finds that his dreams and the whims of nocturnal unconsciousness are often the best and foremost resource, as far as story ideas; in fact, without fail, there’s always pen and paper deftly handy, and placed on this able scribe’s nightstand, so that upon waking from a dream, the details can be quickly jotted down, whilst the dream is fresh…and the more bizarre and far-fetched the dream, the better. In fact, being addicted to the almighty liquid speed-god Rockstar…so much so that this energy drink junkie can genuinely go back to sleep, soon after guzzling one of those tasty jitter-inducing beverages…well, sleep does invariably come, but with the mind spinning a million miles a minute, and as such…well, the most vividly outrageous and incomprehensible dreams do result…

…curiously, the wildly intriguing aspect of the dreamscape is the inarguable logic of the dream world’s mythos. Without reason or explanation, anything can happen, and usually does…and at the most random moments. And no matter how outrageous the event…no matter how bizarre the behavior of not only the characters in the dream, but the dreamer itself…well, in the dream, whatever happens, it’s just accepted, and makes unquestionable sense, even up to the point where one is in the conscious throes of waking. As compelling, or even unnerving as the dream might be, on the cusp of said waking, who doesn’t desperately grasp at the logic of the dream, knowing full well that when the eye and mind are open to the waking world, that logic will invariably dissolve away to the whims of reality, as quickly as the devastatingly shattering effect of Thanos’ merciless finger snap??…

…all these things considered, before the ‘logic’ of director Cosmotropia de Xam’s surreal and dreamlike “Phantasmagoria” makes it’s own abruptly sharp turn to Wacky Land (…and in watching this one, it will…oh-h-h yes, it will), let’s get linear, shall we??...

…Dianne Cooper (Rachel Audrey), a small-time investigative reporter for equally small-time stateside radio station KRAK, has been assigned to fly out to the gloomy and harrowing town of Lodz, Poland, to check out some reportedly strange and mysterious goings on, which have occurred, and continue to occur there. Her arrival is met with little-to-no fanfare or reception, and in fact, the village itself…save for a less-than-handful of rudely discouraging and oddly behaving residents in the background…proves little more than a decrepit & broken down, weathered & abandoned, almost seemingly war-torn ghost town. The only real lively soul in this musty, broken-down rain-drenched town…initially unbeknownst to Dianne…a darkly garbed waif of a girl (Mari K), covertly snapping pictures of Dianne from a distance…from behind corners…from the shadowy darkness of crusty spattered apertures and doorways…
…upon further investigation of the town, Dianne becomes more and more suspicious of an unseen, albeit growing and underliningly sinister presence…festering, and continuing to gnaw away at the town, and it’s scant remaining residents. possibly as the result of an undetermined contamination, instilled either by some natural disaster…or perhaps something wholly supernatural. These suspicions are given even further validation, when Dianne has several direct encounters with this strange unnamed girl…appearing sickly, and in the throes of unspeakable delusions which suggest that there is some monstrous ‘beast’ that has indomitably plagued, and continues to haunt the town…the site of which may have once been a dark, cursed forest, according to reports and visions…
…the stricken girl, seemingly dedicated and…like a watcher…claiming personal ownership and responsibly to the observations and ensuing documentation of the town’s demise and waning population…hence, the thousands of hastily procured photos of missing townsfolk in her possession, which Diane becomes privy of, in the course of her investigation…stutteringly warns Diane to abandon her investigation, and leave the area…especially the hotel where Dianne was staying, which according to the girl, might well be the direct epicenter of the surrounding evil presence…
…further driven to the investigation, despite the warnings, Dianne dedicates herself to trying to help the girl, in hopes of revealing more details on the seemingly ghastly horrors that have ensued. In the midst of this macabre and mysterious sleuthing, Dianne becomes invariably caught up in the mysterious girl’s delusions, which culminates in testing her own sense of logic, reasoning and sanity…inaugurates her into strangely compelled witness and participation in demonic possession…and applicably privies her on an old and tragic tale of two sisters…a malevolent, evil-invoking nun, and her enslaved, helplessly blind sibling…
…with the relentlessly dark scourges of her dreams, visions and reality…melding, and driven onto an unavoidable collision course, will Dianne escape the harrowing horrors and malevolence, surrounding her?? Or are monstrous and demonic meanderings of history & legend converging, and about to repeat themselves??...
…the premise in itself…most compelling, to be sure. However, imagine these macabre proceedings, having been filtered through a perversely disjointed and darkly imaginative dreamscape. Where disturbingly arcane and interwoven visions prove as equally contagious and contorting as the cursed plague, which has deliberately stricken the hapless little village in this story. Where a liberal measure of stylized blasphemy, ably serves to magnify the harrowing tragedy and already unspeakable horrors that ensue herein. And yet, as a wholly unique and unconventional film experience, where all of this…reasonable or not, logical or not…plays out as an inescapable dream state norm, in the sense of that ‘norm’ being sacrilegiously repellent, yet irresistibly captivating…
…but then, it seems this is how director Cosmotropia de Xam rolls…daring the viewer to look away…wanting to disturb...but like that darkly alluring, seductive and persuasive dream, that nonetheless one cannot help the overwhelming longing to be willingly and inescapably drawn back to…well, plain and simple, you just ain’t lookin’ away from this one…
…alluding back to the previously noted notion of things occurring in “Phantasmagoria”, in much the same way as a dream might suggest, in the sense that whatever does happen, no matter how direct or trivial, makes perfect sense and logic…to that effect, the whole film itself seems to play out like a dreamy, or should we say ‘nightmarish’ found footage entry, yet there’s no suggestion of a camera operator accompanying the investigative reporter Dianne, video-documenting the outrageous proceedings as Diane describes (…can’t help but ask…is she actually doing this on her own?). But like the kind of dream which many of us might engage, that all-seeing, albeit non-specific point of view…focused on Dianne, as well as the events that unfold…well, that might well be a detached facet of Dianne herself (…except of course, when the point of view of the suggested ‘beast’ is initiated, by way of a sort of distorted and discolored, fish-eye lens), or more than likely, such a voyeuristic point of view is meant to suggest us, the capture viewers on this macabre excursion…or should we say ‘dreamers’…
…but that presumed and literary ‘fantasy versus reality’ aspect of the film hardly stops there, as multiple moments like this, permeate the storyline…the strange girl photographer, taking pictures of an unaware Dianne, sometimes within clear sight and close proximity of her, within clear sound of the camera’s shutter click itself…a blind search through a room, lined with rows upon randomly strung rows of linen, and the whole scene de-vowed of all sound, save for a strange, ear-shattering electrical arcing…the notion that our investigative reporter Dianne, out of nowhere, picks up Bible & rosaries, and proceeds to perform an exorcism…the interesting choice of gas masks (…an old WWII gas mask, which when donned, looks almost nightmarishly organic, as if it would pulsate with a life of it’s own), in a pivotal moment, suggesting that a gas mask should be worn, to avert whatever has contaminated the town…or even the notion that, before boarding the plane to Poland, Dianne stops at a convenience store for something to drink, and without missing a beat, pulls down a bottle of Pursill liquid laundry detergent, with this seemingly awkward moment having an accompanying laugh track in the background…

…but again…within the confines of this cinematic dreamscape…not matter how outrageous the behavior…no matter how illogically skewed the moment…all of this and more, is meant to make perfect sense, from the point of view of us, the viewers…or rather, the ‘dreamers’…
…although they may be considered waverly, simple and telegraphed in the initial onset of viewing this rather bizarre and unconventional film (…an understatement)…from the point of view of the dream aspect that comprises “Phantasmagoria”, the performances of both Rachel Audrey, as Dianne, and Mari K., as the stricken girl of mystery, are nonetheless genuinely engaging, rather than off-putting (…though, you’ll still be scratching your head, asking ‘where the hell they’re going with this’)…more so with Mari K’s mesmerized and possessed character…wading helplessly through a harrowing situation, where she has little control over her behavior and faculties…in favor of something, or some thing that’s coercing her every move, despite her objections…a puppet, for lack of a better term…once again, kind of like what one would expect in a dream. Her words of warning and caution, stuttered and seemingly forced, as if some invasive entity is contorting and preventing her desired speech, just enough to make whatever she’ trying to say, seem vague and incoherent…

…upon having noted the artfully incomprehensible parlance and fervor of “Phantasmagoria”, it almost seems that director Cosmotropia de Xam has inspirationally tapped into that wholly twisted and ethereal ‘other-world’, which had often been previously resourced by the likes of early David Lynch (…of whom the film does afford appreciative thanks), early Ken Russell…even that of the cryptically skewed and provocative stylings of E. Elias Merhige (…remember ‘Begotten’??), and Damon Packard, of ‘Reflections of Evil’ fame. It’s the kind of film which alluringly and underliningly beckons…for some, perhaps a demand of multiple viewings…despite outward aversion and resistance. Heck, at the very least, it took this blown-away reviewer multiple dizzying viewings, just to make any sort of heads or tails of the film…to achieve some semblance of interpreted and speculated meaning to the proceedings, as defined and presented herein by the film’s director…

…is “Phantasmagoria” a good film?? Well…that’s difficult to say. A bad film, perhaps?? Well…equally difficult to say. Anything in-between?? Truth be known, it would be more accurate to say that “Phantasmagoria” defies that whole spectrum...eschews such petty and generalized profiling. The film…well, it is what it is…at the very least, a film experience unlike any other…made all the more an unnerving and uncomfortable watch, with the addition of the melodically frenetic soundtrack, composed and performed by Mater Suspiria Vision, a Euro-flavored music group personally gathered and supervised by Cosmotropia de Xam, and which specializes in a rather unique and unconventional brand of moody and atmospheric, arcane-sounding industrial rock/pop music compositions...

…considering all that’s been comprehensively covered and examined thus far…but, sense or no sense...logical or incomprehensible...I still cannot help but quote actor William Hurt’s character, in the 1983 dramatic character study, “The Big Chill”, who said, “…you're so-o-o analytical!! Sometimes you just have to let...art...flow over you.” In other words...probably not best to over-think this one...just experience it; after all, right from the start, the film suggested that it was based upon a story, called 'The Omen Complex', as written by Sue R. Lism...

...you wouldn't believe the length of diverted and unnecessary sleuthing I went through, before I finally got that clever little quip...and thusly smacked my forehead deftly with my palm, afterwards. Ah, me...sigh...tsk, tsk, tsk.....

(Limited Release, via Phantasma Disques)


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