Showing posts with label final girl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label final girl. Show all posts

Friday, October 13, 2017

death count: art by stacie ponder



Check out the collection of drawings of the unfortunate victims of Jason and his mother immortalized in Stacie Ponder's (of brilliant Final Girl blog) book Death Count. Available from Amazon here. I'll have to dig up some dollar bills for this one shortly.



Sunday, January 23, 2011

frosted flakes


It's cold in New York so what better flick to watch and write about for Stacie Ponder's Final Girl Film Club? O Frozen. I'll try to avoid "cold" puns throughout this review... but it's so tempting. Frozen is pretty thin ice. Three dimwitted friends decide to get one last ski run in before closing time and end up stuck on the lift. They panic a little and conversation ensues about "the worst way to die" including an awkward reference to September 11th. Soon enough, just when you would say to yourself "I would just jump off that piece," Kevin Zegers decides to jump, but unfortunately, feet first. Wolves come out of the woods. And that's about an hour in, with 30 odd minutes to go. So we have to watch Emma Bell weep about her little dog, pry her icy grip from a metal bar, pee her snow pants, and ask her comrade (Shawn Ashmore) why he doesn't have a girlfriend. The remaining time consists of more climbing across creaky cables, landscape shots, heavy breathing, growling wolves, and a lackluster conclusion. Shrewdly marketed as horror (and featuring a small cameo by Kane Hodder), Frozen is less (much less) Jaws on the slopes, more ultra lite 127 Hours. I guess the filmmakers deserve credit for attempting to make a good-looking thriller on such a tiny scale. *

-Jeffery Berg

Sunday, September 12, 2010

the demon in the reeds



Stacie Ponder's at Final Girl latest film club pick is Kaneto Shindô's dark Onibaba. The story is based upon folklore, set on a field of reeds in war-torn fourteenth century Japan. Two women, an old mother (Nobuko Otowa who gives a vivid and complicated performance) of a man named Kichi and her daughter-in-law (Jitsukh Yoshimura) are starving, desperately trying to survive in a small hut on the edge of a swamp. They find soldiers and kill them (if not already found dead) strip their armor, uniforms, and swords to trade for food, and then dispose of their bodies in "the hole... deep and dark" nearby. When the old woman's son's comrade Hachi (Kei Satô) appears, she is both suspicious and rageful that he did not bring her son back alive. She is wary of him, of certain omens ("black sun," "hail and frost in summer") and is angered once Hachi begins to pursue her daughter-in-law. Soon enough, Hachi and the daughter-in-law begin a series of moonlight trysts. When Kichi's mother catches them, she is not only mad but desperate for sexual fulfilment as well, touching herself and groping a barren tree. She asks Hachi to make love to her ("I am not old on the inside") and he spurns her which makes her even more enraged. She warns her daughter-in-law of purgatory and the dire consequences of "sinful lust." Yet, the daughter-in-law disobeys, continuing her sexual affair with Hachi. When Kichi's mother kills a mysterious masked samurai, she uses his mask to terrorize her daughter-in-law. The deviousness of the mother leads her to demise.

Onibaba isn't necessarily religious or strictly allegorical, instead Shindô's work focuses on the passion of humans to protect themselves over protecting one another. Sexual passion both divides and unites. Chuck Stephens, in his essay on the Criterion edition of the film, called it "a gleefully deformed... cautionary tale about sexual jealousy and unrequited passion, reaffirming his propensity for superimposing the modern and the ancient, not to mention God and the devil." The beauty of the film, established in the opening shot of wind-blown reeds, is evident in many scenes, even when the film is at its most grisly. Director Kaneto Shindô shows human nature at its most brutal and carnal. There are so many memorable moments: the shots of Yoshimura running through the reeds under the sickle moonlight (the film was shot in its entirely in daylight; the blackout screens only enhance the eerie, surreal quality of the night scenes), the bottom of the black hole with its scattered skeletons, and the faces of those who fall prey to the mask (Shindô was thinking of the victims of Hiroshima). ***1/2

Monday, July 26, 2010

revisiting the house of the devil



I'm joining in on Final Girl's Film Club this week for the first time with a revisit to one of my favorites, The House of the Devil. I originally reviewed the film here as "refreshingly low-key."

It's always exciting for a horror buff to discover that hidden gem. On IFC, I caught 1980's The Hearse, a drive-in ghost story about a woman (Trish Van Devere) who is terrorized by a mysterious hearse while staying at her dead aunt's house. It's not particularly good but I can appreciate its vibe. It seems to me whether or not you "enjoy" a film like The Hearse, will likely dictate your feelings on how you feel about The House of the Devil. West dubs it as a "period piece," something rarely mentioned in reviews of the film. So inspired by this particular Hearse era, West nails texture. All of the details are exactly right. The orange foam headphones, the tangled phone cord, the jokey answering machine message, paper Coke cups, the soundtrack choices (as the Greg Kihn Band's "The Breakup Song" suggests, Hollywood lamentably really doesn't write horror films like this anymore) the backpacks and denim, the moody score (by Jeff Grace) and film quality--shot on 16mm (abundant in the 1980s).

The script is also refreshingly free of too many in-jokes, which seems typical and crippling of film throwbacks, spoofs or tributes (the inclusion of Dee Wallace as "The Landlady" is such a perfectly earnest choice, not a cheesy wink). In an interview with Cinematical, West commented, "So when I set it in the '80s, a lot of people call it a homage or a throwback and I don't really see it that way. I'm not so ignorant to say there isn't a few nods in the movie, but really just wanted to make an authentic period piece; if the movie had taken place in the '50s, I'd have made it as authentically '50s as possible." And yet the way the film is done, it suggests homage. Think of how differently Far From Heaven would be perceived if not filmed in that lush, Douglas Sirk-ish style. Aside from the freeze frame opening and closing credits, here, the blandness (Jocelin Donahue is our very ordinary heroine) is part of its charm: the film seems to run in real-time fashion, building slowly to its bloody conclusion. That episodic build-up has divided critics and film goers, used to quicker, more complex plot lines. And the climax isn't necessarily as riveting as it could have been. Hollywood Reporter's Kirk Honeycutt bemoaned that "the story takes place in the late 1980s for no apparent reason other than writer-director-editor Ti West doesn't want mobile phones to gum up his feeble plot." Of course horror buffs are smarter than that and know why the 1980s are important to the intrinsic feel of the picture. And it's so obvi that this is not late-80s but early or mid (Gerwig suggests in an interview that West was adamant that it was taking place in '83).

Since much of the running time is spent on our heroine bumbling around a house, I can understand why horror fans may not really like the film. It came out in the midst of feverish underground hype (the trailer is excellent), not to mention its slick, nostalgic marketing (the retro posters and clamshell video release). West's strength is with creating a banal atmosphere not typically seen in film today (atmosphere instantly conjures flashy sci fi and prize winning novel adaptations). Even the pace of the movie itself (The Hearse is pretty slow burn, suspense-less stuff too) is part of the atmosphere as well.


Since I first saw the movie, it's been great to see the rise of Greta Gerwig who was so memorably Terri Garr-esque in Greenberg. As the quirky friend in Devil, she's both annoying and endearing and seems to be having a great time. She remarks, "I think people took to it because, in many ways, it is the antithesis of the way people think of lo-fi horror movies looking. People are hungry for good, small movies that have some style."


-Jeffery Berg



My friend Katie, a Connecticuit native, was kind enough to snap this photo of the actual house in Lime Rock. I love it!