(2005, Greg McLean)
Loosely based on a handful of Australian murder cases (such as the Snowtown Murders, and the Sydney Backpacker Murders), Wolf Creek is a horror story about three friends whose car mysteriously breaks down in the middle of the Outback, forcing them to accept a lift from a man who turns out to be a serial torturer / killer.
It goes without saying that this is not an entirely original idea. But novelty (or lack thereof) is not really an issue with this kind of film. The "Stranded in the Wilderness with Psychopaths" theme, established by such classics as Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Deliverance, has been reiterated so many times that it has really become a horror genre in its own right (some recent additions to which include: the poor but not-entirely-terrible mainstream remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre; the ridiculous and uninspired Wrong Turn; the massively underrated League of Gentlemen-esque Calvaire; the disappointingly twist-ended Haute Tension; and, assuming it counts as belonging to the genre in question, Eli Roth's powerfully effective torture-fest, Hostel.) Making a film within this genre is like recording a new version of a jazz standard. The fact that the tune has been played before doesn't matter - what matters is whether the new interpretation does something creative and worthwhile with the old theme.
McLean's variation on this particular theme is (one or two minor complaints aside) outstanding. The first part of the film does an incredible job of generating two essential ingredients: tension and realism. Cool, sombre cinematography in conjunction with an unsettlingly ominous-sounding piano-&-strings based score help to build up - at a slow, measured pace - a powerful sense of foreboding and paranoia (the feeling that you're about to witness something that's almost too much to bear is palpable long before anything unpleasant has actually happened), while credible, naturalistic performances from the entire cast contribute to a solid sense of reality. By the time the horror begins in earnest, the viewer has been optimally primed to feel the shock of it like a punch in the chest (an effect that's hard to mention without referencing Takashi Miike's masterclass in priming the viewer for shock: Ōdishon). From this point on, the film is as gruelling, horrific, and bleak as it ought to be, and maintains high levels of tension with some lone-highway-cat-and-mouse sequences reminiscent of Duel and The Hitcher.
The only significant problem with the film derives from the fact that the point of view of the protagonists is used to define and constrain the point of view offered to the viewer. This is an effective technique insofar as it contributes to an overall sense of claustrophobia and confinement, but it means that when McLean wants the viewer to be able to pause and linger over the surroundings, this has to be achieved by having the characters pause and linger - which, given the situation they are in, is implausible and frustrating to watch. (Other frustrations include the occasional recurrence of the perrenial horror-viewer's complaint: "Surely you'd try to find something to use as a rudimentary weapon at this point?").
Minor criticisms aside, Wolf Creek is beautifully shot and edited, and achieves its horrific effects with surprisingly little reliance on gore. This may be a disappointment to gorehounds, but it really isn't a film about the horror of gore. It's about the horror of pain, of suffering, and of what one human being is capable of doing to another.
Wolf Creek @ IMDb(UK)
31 May 2006
29 May 2006
Friends Forever
(2002, Ben Wolfinsohn)
Documentary following the two-man band Friends Forever on tour. Shunning the idea of performing at music venues, Nate (stage-name: Wizard 333) and Josh (stage-name: Cunt) simply drive to a town, find a good spot to park, fire up a generator, and play chaotic, noise-based gigs—complete with smoke machine, light show, and outlandish costumes—from the inside of their tiny little VW van.
Wolfinsohn does a decent job of capturing the energetic audio-visual spectacle of the band’s performances, the daily grind between one show and the next, and the variety of equally intriguing characters that lie in orbit around the whole phenomenon; but the film struggles to offer any real insight into either Nate and Josh as individuals, or the nature of the friendship between them. This is a shame, because even when they’re not performing a show, the two of them still seem to be putting on an act of some kind, and it’s frustrating not to be able to gauge how much of what they say is genuinely meant, and how much of it is just Jackass-style posturing prompted by the presence of a documentary crew.
Still, the sheer unconstrained energy, enthusiasm and creativity of the pair is impossible to deny and fascinating to behold. It even spills over into individual side-projects: Josh’s 'Incrediball Boy': "Well basically it’s a big huge ball structure with arms sticking out of it, and each arm’s gonna play a different instrument … I’ll drink thirty beers and try to break a TV with my head." / Nate’s unfinished movie: "It’s an experiment to see if I can make a movie completely drunk, but I’m slightly buzzed sometimes and just flat out drunk at other times … like one whole night I was so drunk that the actor had to tell me what to do."
What the band may lack in actual musical talent, they make up for by possessing admirable degrees of honesty (they openly acknowledge the shortcomings of their music, their record label is named ‘Nothing Gets Worse Than This’, and their avowed intention is to provide the kind of noise that parents can complain about their kids listening to) as well as integrity (when attempting to sell merchandise after gigs, they inevitably feel so guilty about it that they either immediately drop the prices or just give it all away for free).
Ultimately, it's good to know that there are people out there doing this kind of thing. And despite the fact that Wolfinsohn's film fails to get under the skin of its subjects, their surface appearance alone makes for sufficiently compelling viewing.
Friends Forever @ IMDb(UK)
Documentary following the two-man band Friends Forever on tour. Shunning the idea of performing at music venues, Nate (stage-name: Wizard 333) and Josh (stage-name: Cunt) simply drive to a town, find a good spot to park, fire up a generator, and play chaotic, noise-based gigs—complete with smoke machine, light show, and outlandish costumes—from the inside of their tiny little VW van.
Wolfinsohn does a decent job of capturing the energetic audio-visual spectacle of the band’s performances, the daily grind between one show and the next, and the variety of equally intriguing characters that lie in orbit around the whole phenomenon; but the film struggles to offer any real insight into either Nate and Josh as individuals, or the nature of the friendship between them. This is a shame, because even when they’re not performing a show, the two of them still seem to be putting on an act of some kind, and it’s frustrating not to be able to gauge how much of what they say is genuinely meant, and how much of it is just Jackass-style posturing prompted by the presence of a documentary crew.
Still, the sheer unconstrained energy, enthusiasm and creativity of the pair is impossible to deny and fascinating to behold. It even spills over into individual side-projects: Josh’s 'Incrediball Boy': "Well basically it’s a big huge ball structure with arms sticking out of it, and each arm’s gonna play a different instrument … I’ll drink thirty beers and try to break a TV with my head." / Nate’s unfinished movie: "It’s an experiment to see if I can make a movie completely drunk, but I’m slightly buzzed sometimes and just flat out drunk at other times … like one whole night I was so drunk that the actor had to tell me what to do."
What the band may lack in actual musical talent, they make up for by possessing admirable degrees of honesty (they openly acknowledge the shortcomings of their music, their record label is named ‘Nothing Gets Worse Than This’, and their avowed intention is to provide the kind of noise that parents can complain about their kids listening to) as well as integrity (when attempting to sell merchandise after gigs, they inevitably feel so guilty about it that they either immediately drop the prices or just give it all away for free).
Ultimately, it's good to know that there are people out there doing this kind of thing. And despite the fact that Wolfinsohn's film fails to get under the skin of its subjects, their surface appearance alone makes for sufficiently compelling viewing.
Friends Forever @ IMDb(UK)
24 May 2006
Jarhead
(2005, Sam Mendes)
A depressingly true story about a singularly uninteresting man who joins the US military and ends up in Gulf War I where he spends most of his time acting like an imbecile alongside his idiotic colleagues. The war ends before they have the opportunity to take any human lives, which leaves their thirst for sadism unquenched and makes them all feel sad. Whether Mendes expects us to feel sorry for them because of this, I really don't know. The film begins and ends with some narrative spiel lamenting the irrevocably damaging psychological effects on human beings of their involvement in war. This kind of message might have succeeded in generating some amount of sympathy had we been dealing with a band of noble heroes reluctantly but bravely taking up arms in defence of a just cause. But Jarhead is set in the context of US involvement in the Gulf and focuses on a bunch of thugs who have joined the military either because they couldn't think of anything better to do with their time, or simply because they wanted to engage in legitimised forms of violence against other people (or, failing that, the local wildlife; or, failing that, each other). Chuck Palahniuk-style narration (repetitive, monotone, mantra-like recitation of technical instructions, lists, rules, etc.) fails to add any point to an entirely pointless film. Granted, there's only so much you can do to improve a script when it's based on a true story, but the whole thing would have at least been a source of amusement had the entire cast of thoroughly dislikable characters been violently butchered at the hands of their enemies.
Jarhead @ IMDb(UK)
A depressingly true story about a singularly uninteresting man who joins the US military and ends up in Gulf War I where he spends most of his time acting like an imbecile alongside his idiotic colleagues. The war ends before they have the opportunity to take any human lives, which leaves their thirst for sadism unquenched and makes them all feel sad. Whether Mendes expects us to feel sorry for them because of this, I really don't know. The film begins and ends with some narrative spiel lamenting the irrevocably damaging psychological effects on human beings of their involvement in war. This kind of message might have succeeded in generating some amount of sympathy had we been dealing with a band of noble heroes reluctantly but bravely taking up arms in defence of a just cause. But Jarhead is set in the context of US involvement in the Gulf and focuses on a bunch of thugs who have joined the military either because they couldn't think of anything better to do with their time, or simply because they wanted to engage in legitimised forms of violence against other people (or, failing that, the local wildlife; or, failing that, each other). Chuck Palahniuk-style narration (repetitive, monotone, mantra-like recitation of technical instructions, lists, rules, etc.) fails to add any point to an entirely pointless film. Granted, there's only so much you can do to improve a script when it's based on a true story, but the whole thing would have at least been a source of amusement had the entire cast of thoroughly dislikable characters been violently butchered at the hands of their enemies.
Jarhead @ IMDb(UK)
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