Movie Review - Tenebre

Tenebre

AKA
Sotto gli occhi dell'assassino
Tenebrae
Under the Eyes of the Assassin
Unsane



Dario Argento's 1982 jaunt into serial slayings is moody and psychedelic and just a tad bit behind Suspiria's flashy, stylistic leanings. But it's important to refrain from comparing Tenebre to its earlier counterpart. Of course there are a lot of similarities in both story and shot composition, but Tenebre is meant to be a different beast.

Anthony Franciosa stars as Peter Neal, a writer visiting Italy to promote his new horror novel entitled Tenebrae. Mysterious killings begin to happen there, however, and they mimic Neal's book. An investigation ensues, getting Neal involved, and twists lead the viewer down a very complicated road. To protect from too many plot spoilers, I'll stop the summary here.

The film is very slow, which is mostly done deliberately. Argento utilizes a roaming camera which has a mind of its own, drifting around houses and people for long periods of time. At first, they act as a lead-up to deaths, as if rising action to a climax. But the lingering takes too much time, and once we get to the actual killing, it happens so quickly that our rapt attention feels betrayed. Here, Argento absolutely makes use of his sophisticated and showy stalking sequences, but he fails to generate an interest at the point of impact. Especially since Argento suggests we as an audience are the killer(s), it seems important that the act be just as important as the setup. Yet we get quick, flashy kills that are more about imagination than on-screen violence.

And basically, slow pacing is the one giant problem I see with Tenebre. Of course, Argento's films aren't known for the blistering speed, instead focusing on anticipation rather than thrilling action, but at the same time, Tenebre's pacing is so slow that it's easier to get lost in the dialogue than it is to follow the plot. Maybe it was just me, but the bad dubbing and even lousier dialogue deliveries were enough to put me in a more comical frame of mind.

What's unfortunate is that Tenebre has some good themes and ideas up its sleeve. Argento uses a blue color scheme here - everyone dresses in blue (even a man in tan coat and blue pants! Was that normal 80s attire or was someone trying to make a point?) and blue backgrounds abound. Hints are dropped throughout about the movie's ending, and it's fun to look for them and try to uncover the secret of the film before we're explicitly told through dialogue and flashback. Unfortunately, I lost interest before all of the twists happened, and they weren't enough to lull me back into a state of blissful ignorance. Argento plods for too long on unique but ultimately useless shots that only help distract the viewer from the by-the-book kills. Three hatchet attacks to the back are not only redundant but not all that creative in the first place.

Was I expecting too much from Tenebre after being completely taken with Suspiria? Probably. But that doesn't rule out the fact that Tenebre takes far too long to get where it needs to, relying on flat characters to move the plot and provide what startling violence the film offers. The film is interesting to a degree, and some scenes were cleverly filmed, but the pacing is slower than molasses. Argento has some good critical analyses - violence perpetrated by mentally ill individuals, horror in media, and feministic perspectives on horror - but it's all bogged down by lengthy dialogue and even longer stalking sequences. And what the hell is John Saxon doing with such a lowly part? I love that man!

Tenebre on Rotten Tomatoes

Book Review - Relentless by Dean Koontz

Relentless


A blurb on the jacket of Dean Koontz's new novel proclaims Koontz is "working at his pinnacle" in Relentless. Of course, Koontz writes suspense well; he wouldn't be a number one New York Times bestseller if the masses weren't caught up in his harrowing tales. And Koontz is definitely at his Koontz-iest in this new book, using a lot of successful methods from his other tales. But this might very well be the problem with Relentless - it just doesn't feel like a new novel, instead banking on a lot of Koontz's older plots to help drive the story into very familiar territory. It might be entertaining, thrilling, and well-written, but there's also a sense of recycling within the plot.

Koontz kicks the story off with usual flair - a budding writer, Cullen "Cubby" Greenwich, is targeted by a spiteful reviewer full of unnecessary criticisms towards Cubby's new book. Cubby can't let the whole thing go, finally resorting to spying on the critic, Shearman Waxx, who decides to go whack-job on Cubby and his family by hunting them down with a gang of disgruntled individuals. Koontz's dialogue is again full of spitfire spunk, with humorous and ironic interchanges laced with sarcastic wit and romantic wordplay, and the plot moves along at a quick clip, not lingering too long on opening details to forestall the advancement of the plot.

But as stated earlier, these techniques aren't anything we haven't seen from Koontz before. Like with his other novels, he gives his narrator a distinct personality, one that very much resembles Odd Thomas from his other series of novels. Koontz's dialogue has always been fun to read given the fact that its quick and full of eccentric conversations, but here again its rehashed in such a way that it doesn't feel different from the various other books Koontz has used it in.

But what most stands out as repetitious is Relentless' plot, which follows a standard formula set up through most of Koontz's other thrillers - one or more individuals are helpless in the face of an evil and psychotic individual, they run until finally uncovering a hidden truth to help defeat the enemy, and then move on from there. Even the plot arcs of the novel are uncannily similar to the author's other works. There's a character with a dark past, a character who knows a secret that eventually comes to help fight the evil, and foreshadowing that's decidedly misleading.

What's both compelling and frustrating about Relentless' framework, though, is that it works. It's worked for all of Koontz's other novels and it succeeds here. For those who don't follow him as closely as I do, this book will stand out as a thrilling, fast-paced suspense tale, a battle of good over evil. I can't shake the fact that Koontz is retelling the same story over and over again with loosely shifting plots, however. It seems he's stuck on a theme of the evils of our new generation for almost a decade now, varying plots but inevitably producing the same effect in the reader.

Relentless isn't bad, nor is it Koontz's best. It's a mediocre tale that ends on a very sour note, trying to cram too much twist into too late an ending. One could do without the Frankenstein-ian aphorisms and cultural philosophy that Koontz mulls over at the end of the book; with a major character being introduced and taken away in such a short time, the conclusion feels held together by a thin thread. Unfortunately, Relentless goes the same route that much of Koontz's recent output has dwelt on, and in truth, this book has less to say than some of Koontz's more unforgettable novels. This reviewer would like to see Koontz write towards a different angle - a more unexplored and unprepared territory perhaps, but also a more rewarding and experimental one.

Moon Minis - P.S. I Love You, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and The Hangover

P.S. I Love You

Grief's always a hard emotion to produce in a film. It's easy to see what could lead to a film's failure to emit such a response - many times, the grieving process differs for each individual, and one of the most important components to the emotion is a strong connection to the grief inducer. Unfortunately, a lot of films fail to create a strong relationship between viewer and actions on-screen.

But P.S. I Love You is different. The main plot point, a woman's grief and subsequent journey towards homeostasis after the tragic passing of her young husband, who helps her on her way to recovery through posthumous letters and gifts, is effective because of Gerard Butler's portrayal of the husband Gerry, an outgoing, sensitive, and often overly generous gentleman with a giant heart. Endearing and affectionate, Gerry's character is the whole reason why one should watch P.S. I Love You - even if the ending is reasonably foreseeable, Butler's limited presence fills the film with passion and love, and one can't help but understand his wife's sense of dread at living a life without him. Not deeply affecting, but true enough to life to warrant a tear drop or two, and a suitable date film to keep the romance alive and recognize the special person in your life.


Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Stale melodrama thrives in the sixth film based on J.K Rowling's magical septology about a boy fighting an unstoppable force named Voldemort. If you've seen the first five, carry out the tradition here, but those who weren't drawn into the Potter universe with the other films will absolutely hate Half-Blood Prince. In fact, fans may well take offense to the film's horrid pacing and lack of substance. Even the actors seem bored at times. Could it be the ridiculously abundant dialogue? Possibly, and the fact that the wizard battles are few and far between.

Taking into account the length of the film - a 2 and a half hour jaunt through wizard school rife with more relationship problems than conflict - much of the running time seems wasted on inane details that do more to confuse the casual Potter fan than explain much of anything. And for a film that supposedly centers on the half-blood prince, there's very little mention of him. A tedious watch that does not bode well for the conclusion of a very compelling book series, you'd do best to stick with the text as there's more to enjoy there than this slow film can provide.


The Hangover

Contrived but funny, The Hangover finds four friends heading out to Vegas for a bachelor party gone wrong. Waking up, they can't remember anything they did the night before after being slipped roofies on accident; plus, they're missing the husband-to-be and have to set out to find him. Wacky hijinks ensue, creative and also a little helter-skelter, and one can't help but think the writers wanted to put in whatever they could to spice up the film's bare premise.

But through successful personality performances by Ed Helms and Zach Galifianakis, the frat boy humor works most of the time. It may be farfetched, but it is an adventure that luckily does not drop off into boring exposition, constantly moving from one zany idea to another. A good comedy watch with lots of laughs, albeit stupid ones, that surprisingly does not glorify binge drinking and instead focuses on the less pleasant effects of a blackout, The Hangover will eventually succumb to its own plot line - fun for a while but ultimately forgettable in the long run, as the laughs aren't strong enough to become quotable, and though the events of the plot are original, the intent behind them is not.

Book Review - Dispatch by Bentley Little

Dispatch


A teacher once told me that once your idea has been released, it can never be taken back. It became a powerful thought to me as I contemplated its philosophical meaning, and with Bentley Little's book Dispatch, it seems especially relevant.

In Little's novel, protagonist Jason has a gift for getting things done with his letters. It seems the old-fashioned way through the mail, without email, works best, and soon Jason is using his unique "talent" for much more than just free movie tickets. He starts receiving strange letters that describe his dreams, is targeted by the town witch, and kills off his father. As Jason grows up, he learns that his letters might be more dangerous than he thought when he is sent an invitation to join a letter-writing company which seems strange in ways Jason never thought possible. And when he joins... he finds out how much damage innocent letters can do.

Just like my teacher's saying, Little's novel deals with the problems that the power of ideas can have. In Jason's case, his ideas can change the world for better or worse, and the special ability he has is more evil than Jason knows. The book takes the reader through Jason's life and his experiences with writing, starting at an early age when he became a pen pal with a Japanese student and progressing onwards. Little creates an effectively ominous atmosphere that escalates each time Jason takes more steps towards truly life-altering letters; Jason's forays into writing are at first genuinely exploratory, a way to test the waters. But as Jason sees results, he attempts more catastrophic letters, and with the changes in his life, we feel how his personality changes as well. There's always a teetering in the reader's mind of whether they love or hate Jason, divinely captured by Little - at times, Jason can be arrogant and completely self-interested, but he normally finds his faults and recovers from them, a good juxtaposition that keeps the reader off-guard.

The psychological struggle is entertaining in itself, but Little adds more complexity to the story with each of the letters. The dramatic buildup of Jason's life is excellent, but as Little transforms the story from mysterious letter-writing to an actual job replete with dead famous writers and a head letter-writer that writes letters by chomping into pieces of paper, the story unravels. The suspense of the earlier bits of the novel were located in the fact that Jason had no idea who or what the letters were from, and he didn't want to know. Neither did I, because the mystery of the thing was so much greater than the reality. As we learn about the letter-writing company, it cheapens the effect of the first part of the novel - at first it was spooky, and then it becomes hokey, until it gets to downright unbelievable. Letter monster? It's almost like a Goosebumps book, as if a monster had to be behind the whole ordeal. I also didn't buy the fact that Jason didn't love his job as a letter-writer. Sure, he might know that it's evil, but he's always known, and the life that he's living is sure a hell of a lot better than whatever he had back in the real world.

So yes, in the end, Dispatch suffers from trying to do too much at the same time. Towards the conclusion of the book, Little tries to pack Jason's new job, famous dead writers, a letter monster, and Jason's attempts at reincarnating his old life into an envelope where it just won't fit. I can't fault Little for trying, especially with the convincing and mesmerizing first half, but he should have kept a few of his ideas for another time. They can't be taken back, of course. Read for the first half of the letter and leave all the P.S.'s.

Movie Review - The Happening

The Happening


A lot of flack has been thrown at director M. Night Shyamalan regarding The Happening. Either his stories aren't up to par or they're just too weird, or the twists he's thrown in aren't entertaining enough, or he hasn't thrown in twists. The poor guy had so much success with his first outing The Sixth Sense that it's been hard to come back with anything more than a mediocre outing to the public eye. The same has happened with The Happening, except in a more emphasized manner. Lady in the Water especially created a rift between Shyamalan and the public eye, creating a situation where The Happening either had to come back big and strong a la The Sixth Sense or interests would wane even more. It seems The Happening wasn't exactly what the public was hoping for (could it be the critique on our environmental pollution affecting our subconscious in part?), but the overall hate for the film seems unwarranted.

Consider the fact that Shyamalan's story is rich and developed. Sure, it follows the same format as a typical zombie movie, with a strange outbreak of irrational, suicidal behavior by humans in highly populated areas. But story-wise, all similarities to "of the dead" type films stop there, because The Happening's plot is buoyed by the fact that the script is smart, current, and ecologically poignant. Putting a focus on plants' survival instincts, Shyamalan highlights the current crisis we face as we further our destruction of he Earth by creating a threat which before seemed passive - our own environments.

The film progresses smoothly enough, opening with a tense and violent introduction into the affliction before settling on Mark Wahlberg's character Elliot, a science teacher who, after hearing about the outbreak, attempts to outrun the ailment with wife Alma (Zooey Deschanel). Elliot is soft-spoken, even-tempered and good-natured, seemingly out of character for Wahlberg, but the actor pulls it off fairly well, with only a hint of robotic monotone thrown in. On the other hand, Alma is fantastically annoying with her fair share of quirks. It works, though, emphasizing the rift between Alma and Elliot in their struggling marriage; however, this little subplot about love between two feuding adults seems insubstantial in the bulk of the film, an unnecessary and, towards the finale, slightly corny attempt at an emotional climax. In fact, the tearful departing between Elliot's friend Julian (John Leguizamo) and his daughter overpowers the love story, making it pale in comparison.

From the powerful opening, Shyamalan grabs the viewer with surprising violence, a technique he's never used before. It's not excessive, but it does focus more on style than substance - take the creative but unnecessary lawnmower suicide as example - that shows Shyamalan enjoys playing with gore. Is it needed? I don't think so, since the theme of the film expresses an environmentally-friendly view rather than a more exploitative topic, but does it add tone and a growth to Shyamalan as a director? Sure!

But it's the intensity of the film that holds the viewer, quickly whipping through humanity in the northeast. A few unrealistic observations aside, The Happening is surprisingly straightforward for the normally complex stories that the director pens, but instead of dumbing down the entirety of the movie, it's a boon, allowing for Shyamalan to skip all of the hassle of explaining a twist that may or may not be more exciting.

But I can see why some viewers took a disliking to the film. The lackluster conclusion is a bummer, not only because it gives a less pleasing outlook on humanity's goodness, but also because its resolution is not as epic or suspenseful as its prelude. The problem is not that the conclusion is necessarily bad - it makes sense in regards to the subject matter - but that the film builds up so well that it can't be satisfactorily resolved. What ends up happening is that it feels like Shyamalan dropped the ball; one attributes their disappointment with the ending, a "that's all!?" feeling, to the idea that Shyamalan could not come up with a better ending, ultimately ending with whatever seemed appropriate. Logically, in my opinion, the movie ended just where it needed to, because it said and did what it set out to do; as entertainment, on the other hand, The Happening falls flat with a climax that is stale and stuffy compared to the preceding cinema.

Even though The Happening displays a lot of what's gotten Shyamalan where he is today, most noticeably in the more frightening scenes, there's still a lot of freshness in what the director brings to the film. With an intriguing and compelling script, the film has a lot to enjoy. Where it fails, it fails with a grace that's missing within many other movies in the genre, and contrary to the majority, I'm excited for Shyamalan's next foray into horror. Leave your expectations in the DVD case and allow yourself a visually stunning and educational experience - and for God's sake, don't hope for The Sixth Sense part II. You're only deluding yourself.

The Happening on Rotten Tomatoes

Halloween 2009 Horror Part I - Sorority Row

Halloween is almost upon us - okay, so maybe not exactly. People are still looking forward to their vacations before they want to think about decorating with festive orange lights, skull candles, and pumpkin leaf bags. But here at The Moon is a Dead World, it's always Halloween - so let's get everyone ready for the films coming out for this year's holiday with a little preview of each one!


To start things off, we have Sorority Row, slated for a September 11 release date. As with most films coming out currently, this film is a remake of the 1983 slasher House on Sorority Row. Slight name change, but it sounds as though the plot of the film is exactly the same. Check it out:

When five sorority girls inadvertently cause the murder of one of their sisters in a prank gone wrong, they agree to keep the matter to themselves and never speak of it again, so they can get on with their lives. This proves easier said than done, when after graduation a mysterious killer goes after the five of them and anyone who knows their secret.

To anyone who has seen the original, this is extremely similar. But at least there are a few things we horror fans can look forward to in Sorority Row.

1. It's rated R, not PG-13. IMDB lists the film as having an R rating for strong bloody violence, language, some sexuality/nudity, and partying. The original didn't have too much bloody violence, so it's good to see the remake at least attempting to provide some good gory thrills. And we all know the catastrophe that was Prom Night, with its watered down violence and MTV script. Hopefully, with its more adult themes, Sorority Row can bypass all that to get to the good scares - but we can't forget junk like My Bloody Valentine 3D (which had an R rating as well), whose makers were too interested in blood, guts, and boobs to pen an effective or even mediocre script.


2. Theta Pi Must Die. It's a great catchphrase that matches my own sentiments - those girls have got to be killed off in creative, bloody fashion. And if the poster reflects what the movie has in store for us, we should be excited.



3. The second half of this trailer. It may look like a Scream or I Know What You Did Last Summer ripoff, but those movies are a lot of fun, and at least it seems there are a lot of dumb college kids for the killer to slash and hack. At least the film's action sequences look interesting.

But there's a few things that could propel this movie straight into slasher hell. Looking at the first part of the trailer, the film could focus too much or too long on minor annoyances like partying frat houses. It's also easy to see that there's not a huge focus on depth of character, with more emphasis being on the hot bodies of the ladies rather than their endearing personalities.

There's not a lot of big names working on this project, either. While Briana Evigan has been seen in a few recent movies (most notably S. Darko), it's to be determined whether she can front a film. I'm guessing (only shallowly) that she will be our main protagonist and final girl, but looks can be deceiving - hopefully. Right now, Sorority Row looks pretty cut and dry, a slasher that is only attempting to be another fun but ultimately forgettable picture that melds with the other remake fare.

Keep posted for more upcoming news on the film as we near its release date.

Cast

Briana Evigan as Cassidy
Leah Pipes as Jessica
Jamie Chung as Claire
Julian Morris as Andy
Rumer Willis as Ellie
Audrina Patridge as Megan
Margo Harshman as Chugs
Caroline D' Amore as Maggie
Matt O'Leary as Garrett
Matt Lanter as Kyle
Carrie Fisher as Mrs. Crenshaw

Book Review - After Midnight by Richard Laymon

After Midnight


Murphy's Law is ever present in Laymon's book about "Alice," a woman whose life spirals into a frenzy of covering up accidental deaths after an encounter with a stranger at her house - you guess the time - has her murdering innocent people. Alice isn't a normal woman who calls the police; instead, she covers up the evidence in order to hide her mysterious past. Told from her own perspective, After Midnight keeps escalating in thrills and twists, taking Alice and the reader into a situation which seems a point of no return.

Laymon's plot is a labrynth of ridiculous events and coincidental happenings, but it doesn't matter - the narrative is entertaining as hell, especially told from outspoken and unique Alice. And even if the plot is a bit farfetched, it's specifically designed to be, taking the reader through an action-packed few days that leave no room to breathe.

Alice's persona at first seems annoying, but after delving into the book, she becomes a secretive character who hides a lot of her past. What she chooses to tell the audience isn't much, but it keeps the reader engaged, totally engrossed in her thoughts because she has such a mysterious past. There's always a hope that Alice will let something slip, and she occassionally drops hints about her history, but in her own way she's as elusive in speech as she is in her actions.

Laymon excels at creating evocative characters, and After Midnight's cast is no different. Alice is targeted by a few less-than-upstanding individuals, who we feel to be lower than dirt. How dare they try to kill our protagonist! But there's an emotional hypocrisy to the audience's reaction - Alice continues to kill off people to protect herself, at times sentencing innocents to a series of hellish events in order to remain hidden. Her actions are just as questionable as the serial killers that are after her, but we tend to overlook this fact because of her persuasion and point of view. It's an interesting psychological standpoint that Laymon subtly hints at.

After Midnight is full of substance, and not lacking in grotesqueries. There's rape, torture, and a lot of sex and visual nudity. There's violence and sadism. But more than that, there's an outlandish look at Murphy's Law in action and a chain of events that cannot be altered. Alice provides good testimony that actions have consequences; it just depends on how far one is willing to go to escape them.

It's a fast read, one full of adventure and suspense. Ironically, Alice provides a lot of comic relief, and there's a similar psychosocial critique to the comedy as there is in Alice's hypocritical actions. One can't help but laugh at the unthinkable, morbid things that happen to Alice in a few short days. But what we're actually laughing at is what we're uncomfortable with (rape, murder) that seems atonal to how we really think. "Why are we laughing?" and "Is this actually funny?" are questions that we don't ask in Laymon's book. As an audience, we're so absorbed with Alice's success in escaping from the law that our own conscience plays little to no role in how we read the novel's subject matter. Hidden or not, Laymon's novel gives me a great read but also a thought-provoking question: If we were in this situation, would we act without conscience as Alice does? Are we laughing because we secretly understand?