Partial Education at Grimmfest 2014
Featuring Partially Educated Reviews of
Life After Beth
The Woman
WolfCop
and The Canal
So I attended my first ever film festival at the weekend, namely Manchester's horror film showcase, Grimmfest. Now, I'd love to sit here and brag about how I got in on a critic's pass, following the organisers of the festival begging me to stand as a beacon of filmic expertise and deliver my valued opinion on their output, but that would be a lie because I paid to go and no one had the faintest idea of who I was (not that I asked). First off, there needs to be a couple of explanations. Anyone who looks at the line-up will realise that I attended on the Sunday and that two films are missing from this review. I missed Dead Snow 2 due to having to having to travel from Milton Keynes and not being able to get there in time. Let's be honest. It's a Nazi zombie film. You know what you're going to be getting. Also, the screening of The Samurai had to be delayed till a later time due to technical issues and I was regrettably unable to stick around for this later screening. Nonetheless, I did manage to catch four films there and here are my opinions.
I was originally going to do these reviews in the order they were screened, but that caused a problem. My day at Grimmfest was brilliant and I wanted to make sure this was reflected by not ending the review on a sour note. Unfortunately, the last film of the festival was that sour note. The Canal is a British ghost story, in which married couple David and Alice (played by Rupert Evans and Hannah Hoekstra) move into a house, only to discover that a murder had previously taken place there many years ago. Stop me if you've heard that one before. When Alice goes missing, amidst her husband's doubts of her fidelity, suspicion falls on David and his claims that ghostly forces are at work aren't helping his case. To put it plain and bluntly, The Canal's biggest problem is that it's monumentally boring and there really is zero intrigue going on here. It's attempting to create that intrigue, but the twist is so blindingly obvious that, for a moment, I was convinced it wasn't a twist and the film had already told us what was going on. The film adopts a similar mentality to the likes of The Conjuring and Insidious when it comes to the scares, going for the jumps that do elicit the desired reaction, but then serve to highlight how uninteresting and lacking in scares everything else around it is. The closest the film gets to a lasting impact is a really nasty image at the end that sort of works, but does feel a little gratuitous and betrays the general tone in a slightly desperate effort to leave at least one image implanted into your mind. The thing that really needs mentioning though is the sound, because The Canal gets it's theatrical release on November 14th and I can only hope that they intend to fix it in the time they have left. In fairness, there's some pretty good sound design during the supernatural elements of the film, but this is lost amongst one of the worst mixes I think I've ever heard in a film. Dialogue levels range from acceptable to eardrum piercing, skipping all over the place even within the same scene. Also, when the closing of a car door sounds like a bullet, it means that the thuds that accompany jump scares compensate for this by going to uncomfortably high levels of volume. As I'm sure you can tell, The Canal was a disappointing end to the night for me, but it wasn't that it seemed bad in comparison to some of the good to great work that had preceded it. It seemed bad in comparison to anything.
ONE out of five
After WolfCop had finished, I could overhear someone near the back of the screening commenting on flaws in the editing of the last scene. Something tells me they missed the point. This is a film about a cop that becomes a werewolf and that's all you need to know. They ain't going for the Palme d'Or here. It's intentionally awful and that's mostly a good thing because it has the wit and knowing to carry this through. The worst thing films like this can do is mistakenly hope that an abundance of gore will mask the filmmaker's painful lack of wit. To find a way of making a bad film enjoyable is an art form within itself and if you can elicit the laughs from the audience, then that can only be a good thing. It must be said that WolfCop initially looks as though it's going to fail in that respect. The first half hour or so is painfully unfunny, with the filmmaker's delaying the revelation of WolfCop in favour a massively unwanted period of getting to know the characters. I feel safe in saying that as a general consensus because the lack of real laughter from the sizeable audience (there were maybe a couple of chuckles, but nothing much) really was noticeable. Once the hairy guy arrives though, things take a huge upturn, with the jokes feeling focussed, tight and brilliantly dumb. The aforementioned gore is there, but it's used well, building on the ridiculous nature of the rest of the film to play it for some genuine laughs (the guy without a face is a particular highlight). By the end, steam is lost and comedy falls aside in favour of some not as good action, but it doesn't outstay it's welcome too much. At the end of the day, WolfCop is a bit like when someone brings their friend from out of town to a house party. It begins quiet and awkward and you'll do anything to avoid being that person that gets stuck with them when the mate that bought them pisses off to talk to someone else. As the night rolls on though, things get a little looser, everyone's had a few drinks and you realise that there's much worse ways to spend your time.
THREE out of five
I remember my Dad used to have this worry that people who make these really nasty films must have some issues. He may still feel that way. I haven't asked him recently, but The Woman is the first time where I've started to think he might be right. It's nasty, grimy and thoroughly depressing, with an incredibly sadistic streak to it. It's also pretty damn good. Sean Bridgers plays Chris Cleek, a family man who discovers a woman (Pollyanna McIntosh) living feral in the nearby woods. Cleek kidnaps the woman, locks her in his outbuilding and unveils the mother of all superiority complexes, promising to "civilise her" and integrate her into society. Convinced of his plan's grand purpose, he also brings along his entire family, declaring this to be their new family project. What follows is a mixture of endurance test "how much brutality can you take?" tactics and a far more unsettling scenario in which Cleek tries to turn his family into his own microcosmic cult of personality. The script is mostly solid (though occasionally clumsy) and there's some decent to great acting here, with Bridgers in particular being terrifyingly believable. Lauren Ashley Carter, as the eldest daughter, also seems a promising talent. Most of the other performances are fine too, though Carlee Baker is an exception as Carter's teacher (not helped by a role that isn't fully justified) and McIntosh also gets little to do other than snarl and hiss. Director Lucky McKee demonstrates skill, particular when it comes to the treatment of the titular woman. Many of the scenes present us with Cleek's perspective as we peer into his own view of this woman, but the desired reaction is clearly and correctly nothing more than repulsion towards him. Most of the time, this is done without feeling too exploitative, with only a couple of very dodgy music choices veering us into leery territory. Also, if you think things couldn't get any more bats**t crazy, the ending will see to that. Honestly, it's not a fully justified ending, slightly betraying itself in the way that it has made us feel about a number of these characters. It's fine to subvert expectations, but it's not fully justified here. Most of all though, The Woman is solid to great filmmaking and stands as the biggest surprise of the festival, not just because it wasn't meant to be shown (it replaced The Samurai), but also in terms of quality.
FOUR out of five
I came for Life After Beth. I left loving LIfe After Beth. Aubrey Plaza stars as the recently deceased Beth, who inexplicably comes back from the dead to the delight of her parents and trepidation of her boyfriend, Zach (Dane DeHaan); the looming question standing as: is she, or isn't she, a zombie? With the rom-zom-com having now become it's own (slightly overused) sub-genre, the quirkiness and novelty has worn thin, so you've really got to make sure everything is working in your favour. Plaza and DeHaan are both exceptional, bringing their absolute best in careers that have already had their ups and downs, despite their tender years. John C. Reilly and Molly Shannon are also great as the parents, wisely playing it straight, instead of their oft annoying caricature styles. The rest of the supporting cast are fairly surplus to requirements (with the exception of the brilliant Matthew Gray Gubler as Zach's brothers), but this isn't a problem when it's so much fun being with the four main characters. Laughs are frequent and plenty, with the script regularly pulling out some grade-A material. I'm not exaggerating when I say that it's a real rarity to see a full audience laughing quite as much as they did at this screening. Though things maybe dry out a little to the end (and the very last scene is spectacularly misjudged), Life After Beth is one of the best comedies of the past few years for me and it's a shame that it appears to be getting a relatively small release. It's not hard to find a screening near you, but they are few and far between. If you get a chance, I strongly recommend catching this one and if you don't, rent it.
FOUR out of five
Next Time (16th October)
Washington VS Mills
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