I really miss the Saw films. Why does nobody make properly intelligent horrors anymore?

I watched Silent House earlier.

Spoilers.

I have a feeling my opinion won’t reflect that of the masses, but I genuinely, genuinely loved this film. I don’t know whether my opinion is swayed by the fact that I’ve seen the (slightly better) original version, but I still know I enjoyed this film an enormous amount. It’s a feat in film-making (though, again, not quite to the level of the original), superbly acted, nicely plotted, and incredibly clever.

Firstly, it was brilliantly acted. At least, by Elizabeth Olsen. She carries the audience in a wonderfully expressive array of expression, which is a considerable feat in a film with relatively little dialogue. Her desperation and petrification are evident throughout the entire film post the initial calm ten minutes. Her character is another of the Rec-esque transitions away from the virginal so-called ‘final girl’, which works nicely with the narrative here. Some of the acting from other characters felt, at times, iffy, though with such long, complicated shots it felt like a minimal sacrifice. Her fear became so tangible and painfully human in some sequences that it was almost upsetting to bear witness to, as she cowers, vulnerable and alone, clasping her hands over her mouth to avoid being heard. Her timing is impeccable. There are definitely big things coming. Bigger than this and Martha Marcy, that is.

I didn’t like the addition of the ‘friend’ to the narrative from the original film, though. Her first sequence, when she calls, unexpected, at the house, was quite cleverly constructed and interesting, though her return felt unnecessary and too forced. The audience could piece together the narrative without her character, so I wasn’t sure why they included her. Plus, her somewhat, um, slutty demeanour at the film’s climax reminded me of some sort of Hammer Horror vampiric succubus - it wasn’t the right vibe for the film.

The cinematography was exquisite, though I was disappointed to learn that, unlike the original, they had cut the film into a sequence of 12-minute takes. Although this is still a remarkable feat, it falls short of the tracking-shot benchmark films such asRopeandChildren of Men. The original was filmed in its one-shot take, unless, of course, a sneaky cut was fitted in when the screen blacks out, though this would still make it only a combination of two 44-minute shots. Still pretty amazing. The fact that there is never a sound, a shadow, a badly placed angle from the cameraman is dedication to the effort gone into producing this film. I did find some sequences a touch too cliché, which, ultimately, went on to jeopardised the authenticity of space and time which I’ll talk about in a minute. It’s alright to have a couple of cliché false-scares or tense sequences (e.g. a door filling a frame, then being closed to reveal a figure), but the number of them used here did devalue the film’s tension a little bit. Though, not to the point that it became unscary or irritating. I just felt they were an unnecessary addition.

My favourite thing about this film was, as with the original, that it is forced to obey the laws of space and time. This is the ultimate inevitability of life: time always passes. Space always divides and separates. It may feel like an unnecessarily or overly-deep philosophical reading of the film, but I loved how it forces the audience to consider the setting as a real place. This building really exists. The haunting attackers are real people, hidden somewhere in that house. If Sarah runs into a room and locks the door, nobody can get into or out of that room without our detection. We are forced to genuinely search along with her for any signs of intruders. Time is ticking, characters are moving, the sun is setting, and the film can’t cut away to give anybody or anything time to shift. There is no way to hide from the fact that this attack on Sarah will continue for 88 minutes. It makes the sequence where Sarah escapes but is bought back to the house all the more painful, as the inevitability of this setting is realised.

Its metaphorical layers contributed nicely to a fairly simple, standard plot, adding something unique, or, at least, interesting, to the narrative. I missed the original film’s storyline about the little girl, which was hinted at but not explored. I also didn’t like how forced the metaphor felt. If the audience like it, they’ll work it out for themselves. This film forced a lot of the metaphor forward with the ‘friend’s’ return. That being said, it didn’t stop it being quite well constructed. There was just, I thought, potential for more.

Overall, I thought it was an adaptation worthy of the original, and only marginally inferior. Praise has to go to the director for a sensationally cleverly constructed piece, though I’m disappointed they didn’t rise to the occasion of genuinely emulating the original film’s one shot sequence. Olsen as Sarah is the real outstanding feature of this film. She carries it, and, with it, she carries us. I know I’m probably in a minority with my opinion on this film, particularly as the two people I saw it with thought almost the dichotomous opposite to me, but that doesn’t hamper the fact that I loved it. There’s still so much potential for original horror films, as shown by this and Cabin in the Woods. Let’s hope there’s some more coming.

I’m smart, you’re dumb; I’m big, you’re little; I’m right, you’re wrong; and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Will Matilda ever stop being a great film?

I saw The Cabin In The Woods on Wednesday.

Spoilers.

Horror/Comedy metafilms have been done to death, if you’ll pardon the pun. The Screams, Scary Movies and Drag Me To Hells of the world have almost become as much of a staple of cinema as their serious counterparts. The boundaries between the genres weaken every year, with every horror film suddenly assuming they should be including fake scares and postmodernist jokes. It’s become somewhat stagnant.

The Cabin In The Woods is anything but stagnant. Its tongue-in-cheek title left me somewhat dubious on first impression, but the positive critical reaction to its first screenings soon changed my mind. This film is probably the cleverest horror to come out since the good Saw films.  Right from its very first shot, it immerses the audience in unfamiliar grounds, flouting every rule of the Horror book. It shouldn’t work, but it does. Its framing device is nothing short of genius. Presenting, on-screen, characters who are as close to the stereotypical horror movie goer (i.e. the geeky scientists) was a brave move, threatening to alienate or even offend its audience, but it so pays off. Their narrative drive is as ridiculous as it could possibly be, but it still draws us in hook line and sinker. When you’re sat at the climax of a film thinking ‘Oh God, but she has to die or the Ancients will rise!’ you know you’ve been completely suckered into this plot. Somehow, it has us all going along with it. Their interactions are funny, smart, nicely postmodern and farcical.

The teen-comedy, at the start of the film, was harder for me to buy into, though by the end I was convinced that was part of the point. I was watching their first interactions thinking it was going to get awkward that I wasn’t finding any of their jokes funny, though as the film progressed it became evident why this works and how this actually, somehow, makes the film funnier.

It’s impossible to avoid the farce. I know people who have seen Scream and Drag Me To Hell and not noticed the burlesquing of horror. Here, the meta-references are there from the get-go. The teen floozy who’s just dyed her hair blonde, the vulnerable introvert who’s nursing a broken heart and worried about committing to a new relationship, a jock, a stoner, a geek… My personal favourite moment was when they first enter the basement and consider the array of stereotypical horror film MacGuffins: the diary, the bride’s dress, the ancient film, the mysterious orb puzzle…

The juxtaposition of the two settings worked perfectly, seamlessly, or sometimes, catapulting between the two realms of the film. It didn’t force to to align morally with either of the parties, meaning we can just sit back and enjoy the ride of the film rather than dealing with its ethical implications. So many films ruin themselves by trying to be too big for their own boots. Their cataclysmic combination at the film’s climax was both hilarious and terrifying. After the tension-building descent, where we are left to ponder how, exactly, each of these horrific creatures would have panned out as the antagonist of the whole film, we resolve to leave them as mysteries. Horror films infinitely tease us with ‘What Ifs’: what does the Reverse Bear Trap do if it goes off in Saw? What does the demon look like in Paranormal Activity? What happened at the end of Blair Witch? This film plays us perfectly, expecting to be left in the dark of our imaginations as to the menace of these horrific creatures. Then, in one incredible scene, all of these nightmarish beasts are released into a labyrinthine network of tunnels and corridors, and we bear witness to all of their terrifying and sometimes hilarious nature.

Its ending was nothing short of revolutionary. A film that’s not afraid to breach our suspension of disbelief. The Virgin must die or the world will end? So few films would dare even go near this territory, and we are allowed to laugh at it. In the final few moments, I was convinced that the camera was going to pan out and reveal another computer screen watching them, where another group of scientists were controlling their situation, like this had all been part of some test. Of course, this would have been part of the typical ending of a meta-horror/comedy like this. I was so glad I was wrong.

I hope this genre doesn’t become saturated with an influx of films poorly crafted in the wake of this film’s success. This is such an outstanding film that I have no doubt it will inspire others, so, for now, I can only continue singing its praises and imploring any horror fan to go see it. The second half of this film took me by such surprise, and, for any dedicated film-goers, that often feels like quite a rare experience. It was a real treat to go see this, filled with genuine scares, genuine laughs, and genuinely excellent film-making. Though, I must admit, I would have loved to have seen how the film would have panned out if ‘Angry Molesting Tree’ had been their nightmarish creature of choice.

Revolutionary Road is so unbearably tragic.

Christoph Waltz as Hans Landa in Inglourious Basterds is one of the greatest performances of all time. Helped, of course, by the fact that the character is one of my favourite ever characters.