October 2024 Watch Part 1

Tuesday, 15 October 2024

Ah, October, the perfect month for horror movies! I only watched two in the first half of the month, but perhaps I’ll leave some time for more. Mostly, I’ve been pretty busy with my master’s program and exploring a new country, but I try to dedicate some of my evenings to recuperating my energy. Actually, this is more because I’ve been writing almost every day. I finally finished the first essay I want to post on here (aside from the HTML), but I’m considering a video essay format instead due to how I structured it. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet!

An American Werewolf in London (1981, dir. John Landis)

I watched this movie for the first time as a teenager and for the longest time, it was the only werewolf thing I could stand. Worry not—I had an epiphany during college reading Bisclavret by Marie de France and another werewolf story during one Halloween week (although I only remember vague interpretive elements about it and not, like, the name). With these examples in mind, I grew a little fonder of this type of monster story, and now I specifically love when werewolves are used to tell stories about siblings. This movie doesn’t strictly do that, but there is an element of it in there that I appreciate.

An American Werewolf in London tells the story of David, who goes on a backpacking trip in Europe with his best friend Jack. After an unsettling visit to a Yorkshire pub, the friends are attacked by a mysterious beast on the moors. David is taken to a hospital in London where he learns that Jack has died and begins experiencing vivid and violent nightmares. As he develops a relationship with his nurse, Alex, he is visited three times by the ghost of his friend Jack, who warns him that he is a werewolf and must take his own life so that Jack can pass on.

This movie has a very interesting concept of the supernatural. The premise of ghosts visiting the werewolf is not one I’ve seen echoed successfully anywhere else. I love the visual significance it gives to the inherent violence of a werewolf story, in a way that feels meaningful and novel without feeling like too many types of stories are being told. The ghosts themselves were also absolutely stunning. There is a tangibility to them that was so exciting. Each time Jack appears, he grows increasingly more decomposed; it’s not just that he is a solid, corpse-like ghost (already my favorite kind and so powerful symbolically), but that he is changing with time. He echoes the severity of the situation: as long as David stays alive, the worse he gets. He’s constantly smiling, even when he has no lips left, and this felt like a very intentional affect to give him. As for the ghosts more generally, they appear, but they otherwise interact with the world in a standard way—sitting on chairs, touching things in the environment. It’s a specific kind of physicality that’s so different from anything else I’ve seen. That they touch the world around them, but that they are unseen, that they cannot touch David himself, feels so distinct and careful. As I mentioned, it gives such significance to their reason for being there, but also such tragedy.

In line with the ghosts, the gross and extended sequence of David becoming a werewolf for the first time is so incredible. You do not see sequences like this today, at least not done with practical effects, but it was stellar even for its time. It is simply horrifying. Rick Baker’s work in this movie is so utterly gorgeous and I can’t wait to see more films he worked on. The design for the werewolf is so fun and the effects are massively impressive. These posts have some excellent behind-the-scenes photos and descriptions that are worth the read. (While they’re quite different visually, the heart of it reminded me a lot of Fright Night, which is a great watch this month if you’re looking for something else with interesting effects.)

One of my favorite aspects of this movie was the way all the characters reacted to the supernatural happenings. They would for the most part take the time to hear David out, but they all rejected it in such unique ways. Doctor Hirsch would become angry and dismissive; Alex would treat it like a funny joke, but there was always the briefest pause before her reaction. At times, it feels like they were staring right at David and not hearing a word he had to say with how strange their reactions were, and I adore the uncanniness. It feels realistic and maddening at the same time; you can absolutely see how they would do anything before believing it at the same time you understand David’s frustration and struggle to believe it himself.

Something notable about this movie was the explicit references to media, both visual and through dialogue. Alex reads A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, The Muppet Show plays in one of David’s dreams and Miss Piggy and Kermit are credited in the film, and a figurine of Mickey Mouse (and some other Disney merchandise) appears in Alex’s flat. There is the strangest fixation on referencing other media, though I’m not sure each is for the same reason. For the Mark Twain story, of course there is some fun wordplay with the title of the movie following its same style; I thought this post about the movie’s similarities to the novel was interesting. Caroline Madden wrote a bit about the other visual references to The Muppet Show and various classic Disney characters, mentioning director John Landis’ sense of the “jarring yet amusing close-up of Mickey Mouse ‘watching’ David go through his very painful and gruesome metamorphosis into a werewolf” and David’s “willful American ignorance.” I found this article a bit too simplifying and imprecisely-worded for my liking; the brief quote from Diane Negra was more compelling to me. In this quotation, she suggests that the “alternation [between duty and pleasure] contextualizes David’s dilemma in national terms” in a way that really compels me. If I remembered A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court a little better, I might have more to say about how these two points synthesize. Overall, this movie is really interesting when it comes to representing nationalism. It simultaneously has not just themes but explicit depictions of visiting a foreign land and facing specific tribulations while there (being away from home, being changed by the experience of being away, being unable to return home), while also dealing with, as Negra puts it, “banal commercialized mass culture” as part of a nationalistic lens on David’s dilemma. There is really so much there to examine, and it takes a little reading to be able to do it completely.

I think this movie is a tad better suited to friends watching and cracking jokes rather than a focused, solo showing, as I occasionally found myself turning away from the screen. At the same time, though, it has so much to unpack behind it once you’re done watching. I always try to do a little reading for these responses, whether that’s articles about production/controversy or IMDB reviews, but I found this movie one of the more interesting ones to read about (I think that’s why the review sounds so positive; there is so much that interests me about it!). The plot is definitely very compelling, the effects are gorgeous, and there is such a rich meaning behind it. Still, it was a little dull at times and the characters left something to be desired. I think this was a good movie and a great way to start off October.

KAOS (2024, created by Charlie Covell)

This show was recommended to me as I was leaving a showing of Hadestown, which I feel like gives it such a high bar to reach. That is my favorite musical and a brilliant example of adaptation in every sense, so it would be hard to even come close. I did my best to not let my expectations get too high in pursuit of a fair shot, and I think I eventually managed this. I was quite iffy of this at the beginning of the show, but I’ll admit that it grew on me with time. My main criticisms in the first few episodes either faded out or became less important as I became increasingly invested.

Kaos has a few different stories occurring at the same time in a modern setting in which people in this world worship Greek gods and understand the myths as religious stories. The story itself is broken into three interconnected parts: an Orpheus and Euridyce retelling, a plot following Ariadne and her father King Minos, and drama on and around Olympus with the gods. It is narrated by Prometheus and there are elements of a rebellion against the gods that in another form comprises the plot of the show. Structurally the show deals with family, power, and fate in a way that is familiar to the fantasy genre. Tonally, it is true to this but considerably more lighthearted and humorous (i.e., it is not a tragedy, which was a surprise due to the way it was recommended to me).

My issues with this show are contained pretty much entirely by its stylistic inclinations. I saw a lot of people advocate for this show by saying it was zany or different, which is where my issue lies. The show is definitely trying to be those things, but does not do so in an effective way. The visual elements specifically felt a little dull and meaningless, but they were easy to get used to; with that said, the cinematography, editing, and even voice over worked very well. Rather, the set design, costumes, and music were all elements that felt as though they were trying to be something distinct, but were instead unoriginal and lacking in importance, though at least still fun and engaging. The writing style was another thing that felt as though it was trying to be distinct—and it was—although the performances did not fit it very well. The script, while being in a voice I personally would likely enjoy reading, did not seem to hit the same way when it was put together with everything else in the way it was; the jokes are a good example of this, as they weren’t always delivered in a way that really worked. I think my issues with cohesion and the extent to which I did not like the performances indicates that my issue was mostly with the directing, but it was still frustrating to have these sorts of problems with so many different elements.

I saw one review that called the show “generically modern” and I think this is a great way to explain it. There is a superficiality to it that was difficult, and made no easier by the show’s length, which did not give us enough time to really get to know the characters. This was another glaring problem, as there was a stuntedness to the performances that eventually faded away (for some characters), but was unfortunately apparent in the earlier episodes. The human characters didn’t face this issue as much, but the gods especially felt very reserved in a way that just made them underwhelming. In family-power plots like this, I appreciate a certain ruthlessness and desire in all of the characters, but I felt none of that. At times, I felt nothing at all; overall, very few of the characters seemed to have concrete and resonant desires. It had all the makings of a soapy family drama, and even seemed to have the urge, but it wasn’t. The general lack of urgency or tension only made this worse. I consistently felt as though there was a layer of cardboard between me and the characters, which made it difficult to connect to the story. I have to wonder if this is due to the tone; I like Greek myth retellings, but I admit that I prefer the tragedies as it is just generally a type of story I enjoy, while epic fantasy is very much not. This show definitely leans more towards the latter. Just as well, I could see it being an intentional choice to do something more understated, but I think the gods’ storyline would’ve worked better with a little more grandiosity. I think this is just an example of what I would want in a show being in opposition to what the show actually wanted to be, but it also served as a way to make me feel disconnected from it quite often.

I debate over whether or not I think this show did anything interesting with the myths and figures it used. The structural changes to the Orpheus and Eurydice story in particular felt very difficult to engage with at the start, but did culminate in a satisfying way, if a slightly boring and predictable one. As a rule, I feel that Greek myth retellings are interesting in one’s ability to tell it in a way that’s impactful to them. Whether this means changing elements of the story, putting it in a new setting, or just telling it in a heartfelt way, is up to the creators but all have their merits (it’s a very historical way of looking at adaptation in a way I really like). I’m not sure any of these are the best versions of the individual stories or figures, but they did work well together in the way they were used.

In the end, once I adjusted to some of these issues and as others were literally removed or fixed, I began to like the show a lot more. Ari’s plotline was consistently interesting to me, but Eurydice’s was a slower process to be interested in (which happened just after the midpoint of the season, at which point I was considerably more invested); the gods’ story really left something to be desired, though. As I mentioned, the storylines intertwine cleanly and naturally. The tone, while unexpected, was engaging. The show rewards a patient and loyal viewer, which I don’t necessarily think is fair to expect of the audience in this case, but does describe me in many instances.

This show definitely grows on you, but it is difficult to get through the beginning if you don’t immediately love the stylistic elements or premise. Just the idea of a modern Greek story retelling is a bit generic, but the way it’s pulled off is even more sterile and derivative (and not in a loving or charming way, I’m afraid). It was fairly well made, but uninspired and unoriginal, and worst of all not ready to take the extra step into intensity. Structurally it resembles the sort of family power dramas mixed with ordinary people on epic adventures we see in fantasy, which is not always my cup of tea. If any of these are your thing, then it does it very well. This was a situation of it just not being my type of story, I think. And, to quote a deeply-negative-yet-underwhelming-in-its-criticism review I saw, Billie Piper was great!

Challengers (2024, dir. Luca Guadagnino)

I’m sad to say that I never ended up seeing this movie in theaters because while I thought it looked like a well-made movie, I did not think the plot really seemed like something I’d be interested in (ha!). After hearing positive reviews, and particularly exceptional reviews from a friend of mine, I decided to give it a try. I am so glad I did, and so miffed I refused to watch it sooner. I watched this movie huddled around a laptop screen with a few friends, and despite the viewing setup, I was enthralled.

Challengers follows three tennis players—Art, Tashi, and Patrick—and their relationships to each other and the sport they share. Art and Patrick are ex-doubles partners and -best friends, whose relationship begins to fray once they meet Tashi, an incredibly talented tennis player they are both interested in. Despite a brief night of all three characters together, Patrick and Tashi begin to date and Art briefly attempts to sabotage their relationship. After a fight with Patrick, Tashi is injured during a game and Art is there to support her; from this develops a relationship in which they are both dating and Tashi is Art’s coach. In the more current timelines, Art’s marriage with Tashi is on the rocks and his and Tashi’s relationships with Patricks are explored once more after years of silence as they compete in a tournament. The whole point of the movie is said explicitly: that tennis is a relationship. This idea carries us through the entire film.

I’ll be honest—the summary for this movie was a challenge to write. It is difficult to discuss the plot or timeline of the movie without going into the complexities of each character’s decisions. Even structuring this review, I was compelled to write it completely differently than I usually do, instead just going through the plot and saying what I liked about each moment. For sake of time and intensity of recommendation, I decided not to do this, but the urge was certainly there. Just figuring out whose perspective to write it from felt like a major decision. MGM’s summary of the film and even the promotional art suggests Tashi as this character and while her point of view is quintessential to the movie, it is not actually how the audience sees it. Rather, we jump between perspectives in a way that’s never confusing or overwhelming, allowing us to spend time with each of these complicated characters.

That brings us to my first point of praise for this film, the characters. It barely had time for anyone outside of the main three, but every moment we spend with them was so worthwhile. These were amazing performances complemented by stellar writing. The portrayals were subtle, but never ambiguous; they were complex, and there is really no other way to say it. The characters were difficult, dysfunctional people who were a joy to watch make mistakes and try to get what they wanted out of these relationships. The intricacies of their dynamics made the movie consistently enjoyable, especially so by the proxy elements between them. Tashi’s example is probably most obvious—following her injury during college, she becomes Art’s coach and later marries him. Their relationship is not built on solid ground, Art devoting his life to tennis because he loves Tashi, not because he loves the game, and Tashi devoting her life to Art’s tennis because she can no longer play it herself. It’s what makes their marriage so rocky, falling apart the whole movie until she declares she will leave him if he does not win his game the next day, and going on a particular adventure to ensure that doesn’t happen. Writing it out like this just does not do it justice, but it still illuminates the relationships-by-proxy that occur in each of the main characters. It makes for such an interesting dynamic between the three of them that both changes and remains throughout the several years the story takes place over. While it is a character-driven film, it never sacrifices plot for this. This is a general theme across production, that every single element is working at its absolute best at all times.

Paired with this incredible character work was amazing cinematography. The shots were experimental and different, creating a sense of freshness and variety even within its own runtime, though it never veered into inconsistency. It makes heavy use of parallel (in the writing as well as) in the framing. All of the shots were gorgeous and sometimes strange, but so deeply meaningful at the same time. In particular, I loved the visuals of the storm. It felt so desolate and offputting, especially comparing it to the perfect weather the following day. The artifice of that night, how constructed it felt—it just reminded me, “I’m watching a movie right now,” without ever taking me out of it. And through that day’s unique weather phenomena created entirely through visuals, we get this deep symbolism of turmoil and conflict, but also change on the horizon.

The only moments I got a bit disoriented were some of the early timeline changes. The color grading worked well while also being subtle and trusting the audience, but there were a couple moments early in scenes when I got a bit confused when something was happening. They were truly infrequent, though, and not really an issue in the end.

This film is truly a masterpiece of storytelling. The cinematography is so meaningful, the writing is so subtle and careful. Every detail mattered to a later moment’s reveal or characterization or choice. The pacing was expertly equipped for this, giving information at the perfect time that you could absolutely recognize foreshadowing and sit at the edge of your seat waiting for its purpose to be revealed. Even when the writing and cinematography take a back seat, that storytelling is still involved in the performances. So many times are things said without being said, without either the dialogue or the film. It is a film that really trusts its audience, and that demands we understand the complexity of all of the characters. Everything is so subtle and at the same time, glaringly obvious in the best way. More than all that, though: it’s fun. It is a fun and engaging movie, and that simple fact cannot be topped. If you are a fan of intricate and difficult relationships, complicated (“unlikeable”) characters, heavy use of subtext and symbolism, subtlety and nuance, and beautiful, meaningful cinematography, then this is the movie for you.

The Autopsy of Jane Doe (2016, dir. André Øvredal)

I went into this movie hoping for the thing that stopped me from watching it when it first came out—a slow, creeping, mundane take on horror. For a while, I was given just that, but a change in tone partway through the film made this into something entirely different than what I expected. This is not inherently an issue, as I think tonal shifts like this can be done well and be exciting, but this was not one of those cases. Because those elements are so strong and compelling at the start, when they are removed and replaced, there is an empty feeling that arises, that makes the movie a bit less engrossing than it begins.

The Autopsy of Jane Doe follows Tommy and Austin Tilden, a father-and-son coroner duo tasked with discovering the cause of death of a young woman whose body was found half-buried at the scene of a gruesome set of murders. The movie starts off with the slow procedure of her autopsy, the characters uncovering more and more strange facts about her death as they go. In the second part, though, it takes a turn into a more direct form of horror, with ghosts and corpses chasing them around their workspace during a storm.

The script and performances of this movie were not my favorite, but I was so captivated by the tone and pacing at its start that I couldn’t look away. The weaving in of the autopsy creates something truly evocative—it’s slow, it’s uneasy, it’s tense. But then it completely drops the ball when it comes to the more over horror elements that are added. The ambience created in sound and setting are displaced by chases and loud noises, the creeping sense of dread undermined by flashy and underwhelming scares. Ultimately, the entire first half of the movie is diminished by the second half’s cheap horror elements; I’m a huge fan of schlocky and ridiculous horror, but this wasn’t that. It lacked novelty or distinction, packed with scares I’ve seen a dozen times elsewhere, done before and done better. It did not feel earnest in this choice. I think this generally speaks to my issues with paranormal horror movies, as when it comes to these, I just prefer a more understated approach.

The reveal itself, the moment of change in tone, was somehow simultaneously predictable and out of nowhere, but entirely frustrating. The idea that the Jane Doe had been feeling the autopsy in some half-dead-half-alive state was easy to call early in the film, but the witch aspect felt entirely too surprising to be acceptable. It seemed to want to have its cake and eat it to, insisting that the women involved in the witch trials were innocent, yet using the whole situation as a prop for the movie. The scene itself was over-explained and sort of just painful to watch, the reveal considerably slower than it needed to be.

The lore and themes felt inconsistent to a similarly frustrating degree. At the end of the movie, Tommy pleads with the body to let him feel her pain for his son’s life. She takes the deal, torturing him until he dies, and then kills Austin anyway. There are possibly some explanations for this—that his death voided the deal, for example—but it’s underwhelming regardless, making the Jane Doe’s character, as shrouded as it was, feel inconsistent for the purpose of cheap scares. The movie is left on a pseudo-cliffhanger, the Jane Doe’s toe twitching with the sound of a bell to indicate she is alive, but it seemed pointless for this to happen after her eyes already turned brown (and, unclear for why, back to gray). The second part of the film loses all the first part’s tension, so this moment feels unearned and just annoying. Similarly, there are elements of falseness of perception, and the audience is left to wonder how much of what they are seeing is real and what is invented, but these end up being uninteresting and ultimately pointless. This brings us to my final issue with this movie: that it was all style over substance.

A lot of the stylistic choices felt pointless and purely aesthetic. The bell on one of the corpse’s ankles is a good example of this. It had the potential to be a unique and strange bit of style, yet was only applied to one of the bodies. This made it stand out, but also feel inconsistent when its sound effect was applied to the Jane Doe. At large, the movie had many of these elements, and while it may be visually distinct, it was ultimately played out and boring.

This movie had such potential to be something so brilliant. Its first part displayed a wonderful capacity for communicating tone and mood in a way that was entirely dashed by the shift in the film. I don’t think the inclusion of a tonal shift is inherently an issue; it’s just done so poorly it undercuts the initial intrigue. It comes in with such an interesting concept, but totally stumbles over itself when it comes to exploring the implications. There is a strong visual sense, but it does nothing for the themes and development, which are themselves messy and uncertain. Ultimately, this movie just felt like it was doomed by a lack of forethought.