Bloody Nightmares #35: Wishbone (2000)

A standard spin on W. W. Ja­cobs' The Monkey's Paw (or, perhaps more directly, Richard Matheson's Button, Button) Wish Bone starts out quite strongly - with better production values than many of the films in this collection - but eventually fails simply because the plot is dragged out to tedious lengths. By the time the third "party montage" comes along, all but the most patient viewers will be looking at their watches. Director Timothy Gaer simply doesn't capture the spirit that made those original stories - which have already been adapted dozens of times, with "Button, Button" getting a recent Hollywood adaptation as The Box - so fascinating, though there are enough examples of talent both in front and behind the camera to think that with a better and more focused script, this could have been something memorable.

About to graduate college and moving into her own apartment, Lori (Tiffany Lancia) is given an odd statuette known as a "wish-bone" as a present from her aunt and uncle. After a drunken party where several of her friends make joking wishes while holding the item, people in her neighborhood begin to mysteriously vanish and, even more strangely, the wishes begin to come true - starting with her friend Donna winning a million dollars. Skeptical at first, Lori soon discovers that the strange shop-owner who sold the statue to her Aunt and Uncle warned that any wish made on the statue would lead to a death, and (along with her fiance and friends) she tries to track down what has been causing all of the mysterious disappearances.

Starting with a reliable Twilight Zone premise - an object of immense power in the hands of ordinary people - Wishbone simply doesn't develop any of the characters in a way that makes them (or their decisions) worth caring about. Lori seems perfectly nice, though her eventual decision to start hunting potential kidnappers with a gun was a bit of a head-scratcher, and the sub-plot of her relaxing her virginal ways because of her near-death experience could be interesting in a different movie, but a plot like this should rely on internal turmoil and the struggle about whether to use the power that has been given, and that simply never happens. And since nearly all of the deaths occur to random people - and, with a few exceptions, tend to not be very stylish or interesting to watch - it's simply difficult to remain interested.

These pacing issues are exacerbated by the usual technical issues and oddities expected on low-budget productions, particularly the distracting editing choice to fade to black as a way of ending most scenes. This is a common mistake with young filmmakers who enjoy the smoothness of this transition, but actually demolishes any momentum that might have been built.  Even worse is that much of the film's dialogue is drowned out by the film's soundtrack, which is impressively diverse but adds nothing to most scenes. Thankfully the actually dialogue - when not being overwhelmed - has been adequately recorded. Add in the usual glitches and lighting issues during darker scenes (combined with the quality issues that come from squeezing four films onto a single disc in this collection) and it makes for a sometimes frustrating viewing experience.

To Gaer's credit, while there isn't much camera movement, there are efforts to expand the visual style away from just master shots cutting to close-ups. His direction show an eye for composition usually lacking in this collection, and there are a few scenes which effectively use some unique color and lighting. I was also generally impressed by the quality of acting, despite obviously being a group of amateurs. It's not exceptional quality, and there are still a few shaky performances, but the leads really do give a strong effort. Kudos as well for the surprising number of different locations, a rarity for such a low budget. Gaer was obviously able to get a lot of cooperation from the people of Scranton, PA and he makes good use of the various locales.

Wishbone is presented in a very shaky full-screen transfer which shows off plenty of digital artifacting, particularly in the darker scenes. While it's possible that the original source was this murky and glitchy looking, it's more likely that the compression necessary to fit this film on a disc with three others was the cause. Even outside of this rough transfer, the original video - likely DV - has a blurry softness to it that doesn't allow for much detail. I've already mentioned some of the sound issues due to the music being unnecessarily loud, but the soundtrack itself - while distracting because of the technical issue - is at least pleasantly diverse.

This is part of the Bloody Nightmares collection, so we're denied even the dignity of having chapter stops. There are, however, some weak outtakes that play during the closing credits. I'll take what I can get, but I would hope that there were more amusing errors made during filming than this.

There's something inherently fascinating about the idea of an object that grants wishes - more-so when the result of that wish concurrently creates some sort of tragedy. While the original Monkey's Paw involved the dangers with interfering with fate - the wishes were granted but inevitably led to a tragic event - Matheson's version took things a step further, where the titular button would grant a wish but would lead directly to the death of someone the pusher didn't know. This brings up some interesting questions regarding morality and desperation, and is at least closer in spirit to the wishbone of Timothy Gaer's film. Unfortunately, since almost the entire 90 minute running time of Wishbone is devoted to actually discovering the link between the random disappearances in the town and the granting of wishes, these themes are barely touched upon. What could have been a fascinating look at greed instead becomes sluggish, leading to a unsatisfying supernatural ending. Stronger writing doesn't cost anything except time and talent, and this film could have used a little more of both.

Capsule Review: The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)

What begins as a fairly standard POW film in the Great Escape vein (parts of this are rather obviously an influence on that later film) morphs into something much more psychologically interesting in David Lean's adaptation of the novel The Bridge Over the River Kwai by French writer Pierre Boulle. Buoyed by a staggering performance from Alec Guinness - one that easily could have turned into caricature in the hands of a less gifted actor - the film splits into two sections: the first featuring Guinness' Colonel Nichol­son and his captured British POWs building the titular bridge under the watch of the initially sadistic Colonel Saito (Ses­sue Hayakawa), while the second follows the wonderful William Holden as escaped prisoner Com­man­der Shears and his being recruited for a return mission to destroy the bridge. Being a Lean film it almost goes without saying that the proceedings are epic in both scope and length, but what is most impressive is the director's restraint - this is a war film far away from actual combat, with the eventual explosive finale much different than that of traditional war films. The bridge's destruction is as much as mental release as a physical one, the eradication of a massive wooden crutch for an admirable but essentially broken man. There's plenty of gorgeous scenery and fine supporting performances - Jack Hawkins as the courageous but cold Major War­den is a stand-out - but the lasting image of this film is Colonel Nicholson's often maddeningly courageous attempts to maintain mental and physical order in his men amongst the insanity of his situation.

Bloody Nightmares #34: The Summer of the Massacre (2006)

Well, this is just terrible. A bafflingly misguided "tribute" to the grimy horror films of the 70s - most notably The Texas Chainsaw Massacre - this British shot-on-video horror film starts out awful before eventually grinding down to reprehensibly boring, lost in a sea of improvised conversations and endless, style-less chase scenes. Not only does director Bryn Hammond have the writing skill of a four year old - ably demonstrated by the multitude of confusing, near-unreadable title cards at the beginning and end  - but his direction totally sabotages some very attractive locations, and the editing is about as amateurish as your grandmother's home movies. This is about as close to a cinematic root-canal as you're likely to find.

After a 7 minute (!) run through the woods which introduces us to Hammerhead, a grunting Leatherface rip-off that looks like a cast-off from The Strangers and uses a tiny hammer to murder people for some undefined reason, we're introduced to our four leads who are making their way back home from school (?) in a particularly crappy old van. We know it's crappy because the four decide to spend many precious minutes improvising endless amounts of uninteresting dialogue talking about this very fact. The opening text - and, seriously, it's so badly written it should be the stuff of legend - describes the group as "very young" teenagers, but they are obviously the early-20s cannon fodder you would expect in a movie like this.

An ACTUAL title card.

Soon we're on our way, and I would be remiss to not mention that every time the film cuts to another angle there is an audible change in the film's sound quality, which continues for the rest of the running time and is extremely distracting. The flip-side is that Hammond lets the dialogue scenes go on endlessly without any edits at all, so I guess I shouldn't complain. We now get the requisite drive through the English countryside - which actually looks quiet pleasant - while superfluous screen title cards tell us how much time has passed. After a brief, painful discussion the group decide to take a shortcut to (ostensibly) save time, despite already running low on gas.

Does their lorry run out of petrol? You bet it does, and soon the entire crew is stranded in some very attractive (and visibly mowed) forest. Despite all four having cell phones, they oddly can't get any signal (this is 2006, people!) and despite only moments ago seeing plenty of vehicle traffic during a stop at an abandoned gas-station (don't ask), two of them decide to attempt to walk to get some fuel for the car. There's plenty more banal, at least semi-improvised dialogue that makes everyone involved seem totally incompetent, while the audience checks their watch to see if Hammerhead will be making an appearance soon.

Let's talk about the acting for a moment. The characters here are so ill-defined that it would be useless to single any out by name, but despite their necessity to burn up time with awful made-up dialogue they really are not terrible actors. Perhaps the accents are helping their cause, but they all seem to be trying awfully hard against a film that goes to a great effort to make them look totally idiotic. It's difficult to not feel sorry for them as they are somehow overpowered (and out-run) by some spindly weirdo in a mask, or as they are asked to constantly be tripping over nothing during the monotonous chase scenes. This would also be a good time to mention that one of the characters - Katie - is apparently supposed to be pregnant (a "very young" teenager) though I somehow completely missed this fact until it's mentioned during the film's (confusing) closing title card.

Back to the plot. Hammerhead shows up and kills one of the two "teens" who have chosen to stay with the van, hitting him in the head - unconvincingly - with a tiny hammer before saran-wrapping his head to a tree for a reason that still baffles me. I should note that not only is the hammer used by Hammerhead extremely little, it's also an actual hammer instead of a fake gimmick one, so we never get to see it make any sort of contact with his victims. In fact, he generally misses by several feet with each swing. Katie is also chased for an interminable amount of time before being beaten and tied up in the killer's filthy shack. Lucky her.

The two other teens return to the van - apparently unsuccessful in their petrol procurement - only to find Hammerhead rifling through it. Prepare for all of your favorite slasher movie chase clichés, as the two stumble and fall over repeatedly while the killer grunts and runs after them. This is all in broad, harsh daylight amongst some beautiful scenery, which doesn't exactly help with the tension levels. I'll skip to the end bit and tell you that - despite stabbing, beating and appearing to easily overpower their lanky tormentor - the two somehow get themselves killed. I give an audible sigh of relief, hoping that perhaps we'll get a ten minute credits sequence to end things off on a high note, but - no - apparently Katie is still kicking.

Katie manages to untie herself and wander around the shack - which looks to be a legitimate abandoned residence - before one more tiresome chase and fight that ends with the apparent death of Hammerhead. After ten minutes straight of nothing but screaming and grunting on the soundtrack, I have to admit that this was very welcome. The film's tagline says "The UK's answer to Jason Voorhees", so I'm sure everyone involved was hoping for an opportunity to make dozens of sequels with their toothless and derivative character, but sadly it looks like that won't be happening.

The ending title cards inform as that Katie lost her baby - which apparently existed - and that the killer is still at large. I can't really overemphasize how much the text on these cards appear to be written by someone with a very loose grasp on the English language. Spelling and grammar are at pre-school level which makes the fact that director Bryn Hammond actually owned and published his own magazine (called Gorezone) absolutely frightening. Equally amusing is Bryn's IMDB page, which has perhaps the silliest list of Personal Quotes I've ever read. I don't mean to make this a personal attack, but everything about that profile makes me want to push him down a flight of stairs.

And despite running a magazine (and brand) called Gorezone, this production is notably lacking in any sort of on-screen violence. Sure, there's a bit of blood and a few severed limbs at the end, but any effects are solely of the "hold this stick against you and pretend to be stabbed" variety. When one character has their hand supposedly nailed to a tree, the brief shot clearly shows the nail sticking out between her fingers, though at least Bryn (with his trademark "beauty spot on his right cheek") cuts away from it quickly.

The Summer of the Massacre (even the TITLE is awkward) is presented in a perfectly reasonable full-screen which has all of the usual glitches that we've come to expect in the Bloody Nightmares collection. There's plenty of digital artifacting during the chase scenes, but you're already probably so distracted by the poor quality of the production as a whole that it likely won't bother you. Thankfully the sound quality is quite reasonable, and dialogue is comprehensible despite a lot of mumbling and thick accents. There's a bit of original music - including an opening theme - but no actual score, with Bryn preferring to instead soundtrack the many chases with various grunts and squeaks. How pleasant.

We're in Bloody Nightmares territory, so we don't even get any chapter stops. Special features? You're in the wrong place. The most special thing about this production is that it's mercifully only 72 minutes long.

Perhaps second only to Hip Hop Locos in terms of painful awkwardness, The Summer of the Massacre seems to do just about every possible thing wrong yet still remains pitifully turgid and humorless. I have shown a lot of respect to the filmmakers in this collection who have attempted to create something original despite creative and budgetary limitations, but I find Hammond's lack of attention to his craft personally offensive, and can only hope that he's vastly improved his efforts since. Frankly, he has nowhere to go but up. Stay far away.

Capsule Review: À bout de souffle (aka Breathless) (1960)

Alfred Hitchcock once described drama as being life with the dull bits cut out, and this idea is taken to its logical extreme in Jean-Luc Godard’s legendary À bout de souffle where conversations and movement are interrupted to push the action forward. These jump cuts were an afterthought, a way to shorten a film that was running too long in Godard's eye, but represents a freshness and improvisational spirit that permeates everything in the film. The central relationship between Jean-Paul Belmondo's small time crook Michel and the pixie-ish Jean Seberg as Patricia is revolutionary, informing the films that followed so completely that it's nearly impossible to picture the independent revolution of American films in the later 60s and 70s without this as a starting point. This influence is perhaps a trade, considering how much the American gangster films of the 30s and 40s influenced Godard and his fellow French New Wave directors - displayed by Michel's non-stop smoking and cinematic affectations. It all still feels startlingly fresh - and when viewed in the context of the films immediately before it seems like something beamed back from the future - and even the post-dubbed dialogue seems to be used to maximum artistic effect. Of course, the characters are self-absorbed and often eye-rollingly obtuse, and the jazzy score sometimes threatens to overwhelm the action, but these are all minor complaints when viewed in the context of what this began. Followed by flawed but fascinating remake starring Richard Gere in 1983.

Yes, I Understand That Lars Von Trier Is A Dumbass. Go And See "Melancholia," Anyway.

The staff here at Movie Feast loves cult cinema and our readers are the beneficiaries (or victims) of our preferred viewing habits. However that doesn't mean that we don't pay attention to important events in mainstream cinema.

Case in point.

Unless you live under a rock or something, you've probably read dozens of articles concerning the controversial comments of Lars Von Trier, director of films such as Dancer In The Dark and Antichrist.

I won't run over old ground here by repeating Von Trier's rather insouciant and reckless commentary, suffice to say that I personally feel that they were the inane ramblings of someone trying to sell a movie under the impression that any publicity is good publicity.

The problem is that like some directors (or artists in general), Von Trier best expresses himself through his work (or worst if you've read Evil Ash's review of Antichrist). You cannot give people like that a microphone and expect good things to happen. For better or worse, guys like that have a habit of saying exactly what is on their mind.

The addage of "If you don't have something nice to say...." is lost on these folks.

The tragedy here is the potential backlash towards his latest film, the apocalyptic sci-fi exposition known as Melancholia. It is inevitable that resistance to show this movie (or the overwhelming desire to put it on a screen) will be driven by reaction to Trier's comments instead of reaction to the film. As with anyone else's work, I am sure that there will be reasons to either love or hate Melancholia that have absolutely nothing to do with Von Trier's ill-timed comments.

Decisions about the merits of Melancholia should be drawn from the film itself rather than the puerile and idiotic statements of Von Trier. Von Trier's banter only shows that he chose the right profession when he decided to be a director.

His career as a stand-up comedian would've gone up in flames his first time onstage.

As for the question of whether or not I support the Cannes executive board to ban Von Trier, the answer is "absolutely." I don't reward bad behavior in my household from my daughter so why should the Cannes executive board? Let Von Trier tell Nazi jokes on his own time in his own home around people that understand where he is coming from.

If he can't conduct himself in a public forum in a manner expected from a professional, then he needs to stay out of the public eye or at least hire a good publicist to speak for him at these sorts of events.

I think I feel the sorriest for the Israeli distributor of Von Trier's work. It is going to be a quiet summer for that guy.

I Saw the Devil (Akmareul boatda) (2010)

How should we interpret the now-overwhelming theme of revenge that has permeated South Korean film-making for the past decade? Most notably (and stylishly) explored in Park Chan-wook's Vengeance Trilogy, the idea of planned, often horrifically violent retribution seems far-removed from the similarly themed American revenge films of the 1970s which often focuses on ordinary citizens who felt handcuffed by the limitations of the law. While elements of this still exist in the Korean counterparts, there's something much more deliberate and brutal in the redemptive efforts of the protagonists that often goes far beyond the simplistic "shoot the baddies" vigilantism on display in films like Death Wish. I Saw The Devil is Kim Jee-woon's (The Good, the Bad, the Weird, A Tale of Two Sisters) take on the genre, and his usual unrestrained intensity and penchant for oddness is definitely on display. While the story begins to lose steam near the end of the sometimes exhausting 141 minute runtime, there are enough unforgettable moments and brilliantly staged set pieces that it makes for a worthwhile entry in the strangely enduring genre.

And it would be nearly impossible to review I Saw The Devil without mentioning the previous Vengeance films, as Kim Jee-woon's effort could be seen as a deliberate response to that series, including the casting of Oldboy protagonist and Lady Vengeance antagonist Choi Min-sik as serial killer Kyung-chul. While the subject matter doesn't appear to be critical of those earlier films - which dissected the entire idea of revenge so completely that it would seem to be the final word on the subject - he does take it to its logical extreme, where the actions of the  punisher and punished eventually become nearly indistinguishable.

Lee Byung-hun (The Good, the Bad, the Weird, Joint Se­cu­rity Area) stars as Kim Soo-hyeon, a special agent who begins a near emotionless crusade of revenge against Kyung-chul after the rape and murder of his pregnant fiancée. Utilizing a GPS bug which he forces into Kyung-chul after an interrupted abduction attempt, Soo-hyeon decides to show the killer the pain and fear that he has forced in others, following him dutifully while he pillages, only to brutalize him in response at every turn. But Kyung-chul proves to be a more resourceful character than expected, and who is exactly getting revenge on who soon begins to twist, leading to a predictably bloody climax.

Not quite the exploration of evil that the title suggests, Kyung-chul's campaign provides little closure or satisfaction, instead demolishing his professional and personal relationships, and it would be easy to interpret Lee Byung-hun's cold performance as similarly methodical like Liam Neeson's in Taken. Instead, early scenes showing the character barely holding in his intense grief provide a necessary counterpoint to his stoic blood-letting and bone-breaking which take up much of the film. This is a man in pain, and Lee Byung-hun does as much as possible with his restrained performance, particularly in the face of Choi Min-sik's wild murderer who seems completely unfazed by the pursuit as he continues his path of violence. Min-sik delivers another frightening and unforgettable performance, diving enthusiastically into the often revolting character with gusto. It's somewhat refreshing that even suggestions of nuance are soon quashed by some disgusting act, revealing a darkness that is quite unforgettable.

Jee-woon may not quite bring the flash and bravado in his film-making as some of his contemporaries, but he's still a stylish and skilled filmmaker who brings energy to the action scenes sprinkled throughout the run-time. His camera swoops around hurtling vehicles and flying bodies, while pausing to allow for the quiet moments in between. There's also hints of the usual bizarre humor, including Kyung-chul taking refuge with a fellow serial killer couple who also happen to be cannibals, but most of the tone is rather deadly serious, which eventually serves to get a bit tiresome. While the scenes are expertly staged, they do tend to eventually feel somewhat repetitive, and occasionally the sheer revelry in unpleasantness veers uncomfortably close to SAW-like horror films - particularly at the very end.

Those who enjoy the particularly extreme Korean take on revenge films may not find much new in I Saw The Devil, but what is here is done extremely well - though may require a strong stomach to fully enjoy. Bodies are sliced, chopped, beaten and broken and the camera rarely shies away from the carnage - Soo-hyeon putting a permanent smile on a character's face being a personal favorite - but this revelry eventually begins to get a bit tiresome, and what is left doesn't quite have the resonance of Chan-wook's trilogy. Still wonderfully acted and directed, and will satiate any audience member with a taste for bloody revenge.

The Man From Nowhere (2010)

Lee Jeong-beom’s first movie, CRUEL WINTER BLUES, was a tense, understated, and deeply human revenge film. I wrote about it for Movie Feast, and lavished praise it; a couple of months later, the film is still with me. It was low on action, and high on character and emotion. For his follow-up, Jeong-beom decided to throw “understated” out the window, and went for a balls-out action movie. And I’m OK with that.


Action heroes should not look like emo kids
I’ve maintained before (though perhaps not specifically on MF) that South Korean filmmakers have rather brilliantly decided not to reinvent the wheel, and instead often take well-established, familiar stories, from well-established, familiar genres, tweak their morality a bit, and then shoot it all brilliantly. Personally, I don’t see a lot of innovation in Korean cinema (at least not the Korean cinema that makes its way over here), but I do see an amazing amount of craft. They don’t need to tell stories in reverse, or have their protagonists become unstuck in time, or adventure with innovative CGI. They just take a good ol’ fashion story, and polish it up real nice. And that’s a good thing.


THE MAN FROM NOWHERE is a good example of this trend. Believe it or not, the script (minus the parts peculiar to Korea) could have been written for Jean-Claude Van Damme during his heyday in the 90s. It’s pretty simple: a mysterious loner named Cha Tae-Sik (Won Bin) runs a pawn shop, where his only friend is a feisty and cute little girl named So-Mi (played by the feisty and cute little Kim Sae-ron). At the beginning of the film, So-Mi’s mother, along with her partner, rob a drug dealer, and stash the drugs in Cha’s shop. This is a bad idea. The drug dealer’s men come and kidnap her, and take lil’ So-Mi as well. When they find out she stashed the drugs with Cha, they pay him a visit. And so he fucks them up. Badly.

In a revelation that will come as welcome and expected to action movie fans everywhere, it turns out Cha is an ex-special agent who worked as an assassin (go figure!) for the Korean government. So, he’s a well-trained badass, and while he’s got relatively few morals or human connections, there is just some shit he can’t abide, and kidnapping cute little girls is one of them. So, inevitably, he sets out to kill every last one of those motherfuckers.


Beefcake
But wait, it gets better: these guys don’t just deal drugs, they kidnap children to harvest their organs! Presumably they also strangle puppies in their spare time. You probably don’t remember that from any JCVD movies. Maybe a Segal one, though. In any event, the more fucked up the villains get, the more Cha has to hurt them, and hurt them badly.

And so you end up with a pretty standard action/revenge film, but filmed more simply and beautifully than anything that Hollywood has put out in a long time. Also, in many cases, more violently. Korean cinema is the cinema of well-dressed, well-lit people doing horrific things to each other. And that’s swell.


Of course, one of the other things that distinguishes Korean film, no matter how similar it might be to its North American counterparts, is that it doesn’t play fancy with morality. Good guys don’t always win, just because they’re good guys (if there are any fucking good guys in the movie), and heroes often fail to save the day in the nick of time.

THE MAN FROM NOWHERE is a fun film to watch. It hasn’t left an indelible mark on me--I’ve seen things since that I’ll remember better, and for longer--but it was nice to see someone happy to revisit the type of action films that made the late 80s and 90s so great, and to do it without a hint of irony or nostalgia.