( Psycho 2 / Richard Franklin / 1983 )
Twenty-two years after the events of the first film Norman Bates is judged sane and set free to run the Bates Motel once more. Unfortunately where Norman goes his mother cannot be far behind, but is Norman really going crazy or is there a more sinister conspiracy afoot? While this could be considered cinematic blasphemy before the credits even begin (and the film doesn't help itself by opening with a replay of the original shower scene), PSYCHO - although Hitch's finest hour - was always pulp horror at its core and this is what the sequel embraces, both in conception and execution. Franklin healthily disregards a Hitchcockian approach and as a result, although the film is clearly in debt to its predecessor (a lot of mileage - mostly comic - comes simply from the fore-knowledge that behind Bates' nervous exterior lies a killer), it is far from just being a pale imitation.
Halfway through the film the local sheriff declares that "If Norman Bates is crazy there are a whole lot of people round here running him a close second" and in doing so sums up the entire movie. Whilst there are a lot of horror films that exist within the thin line between sanity and insanity, submerging themselves in a subjective viewpoint so the audience too struggle to distinguish between reality and fantasy, few films go as all-out as PSYCHO II does. In PSYCHO II everybody is crazy and even if they're telling the truth, they're still crazy. Although Franklin and screenwriter Tom Holland (also of CHILD'S PLAY and FRIGHT NIGHT) are no Hitchcock and original author Robert Bloch, PSYCHO II's manic energy and unsettling subjectivity make it a fine sequel and a fine film in its own right.
Thursday 20 September 2012
Wednesday 19 September 2012
THE LITTLE NORSE PRINCE (I Takahata)
( Taiyou no ouji Horusu no daibouken / Hols, Prince of the Sun / Isao Takahata / 1968 )
LITTLE NORSE PRINCE, directed by Isao Takahata with Hayao Miyazaki as chief animator and made a full 16 years before NAUSICAA, is often cited as one of the first modern animes, striking a blow against the simplistic Disney-inspired fare that came before. A mythological tale of good versus evil that represents its theme both in the epic battle of the young hero Hols against the devil Grunwald, and in the personal battle of Hilda who finds herself tortured as the result of a fiendish Faustian pact. Three years in the making, PRINCE's production was plagued by strikes, a small budget, and a studio that grew increasingly hostile to the filmmakers' vision to the point when, although not entirely finished, Toei decided enough was enough and gave the film a limited cinema release of only ten days.
PRINCE wears its issues on its sleeve: a couple of the action setpieces are put together from still images, but the imagination and talent of the crew always wins out. The still images are actually large, detailed panoramas shot with a roving camera and edited quickly, which lend the sequences a level of clarity and kineticism that modern action films rarely achieve. The story, based on an old myth (actually from North Japan, it was changed to North Europe to give the film a more international flavour), is a brilliant translation of exactly what makes these old stories so special: the narrative is both slightly primitive and based partly on contrivance, but it uses its primitive nature to powerfully explore timeless ideas of human brotherhood and morality, and uses its ability to get away with what would, in more realistic films, seem like outlandish developments to let the filmmakers' imaginations fly free. Thus, we are allowed a sequence where Hols is double-crossed, the Earth opens up and he is flung into a metaphysical realm called The Endless Woods where he is trapped in a surreal nightmare created from another character's moral dilemma.
Although Takahata and Miyazaki would work on TV series together for the next decade (including the wonderful FUTURE BOY CONAN) one of cinema's great what-ifs is what would have happened if, rather than Toei stamping on them, the crew that made this film were able to immediately follow it up, instead of there being the 16 year gap between this and NAUSICAA. LITTLE NORSE PRINCE isn't just innovative and influential, it's a masterpiece that can completely stand next to Ghibli's finest.
LITTLE NORSE PRINCE, directed by Isao Takahata with Hayao Miyazaki as chief animator and made a full 16 years before NAUSICAA, is often cited as one of the first modern animes, striking a blow against the simplistic Disney-inspired fare that came before. A mythological tale of good versus evil that represents its theme both in the epic battle of the young hero Hols against the devil Grunwald, and in the personal battle of Hilda who finds herself tortured as the result of a fiendish Faustian pact. Three years in the making, PRINCE's production was plagued by strikes, a small budget, and a studio that grew increasingly hostile to the filmmakers' vision to the point when, although not entirely finished, Toei decided enough was enough and gave the film a limited cinema release of only ten days.
PRINCE wears its issues on its sleeve: a couple of the action setpieces are put together from still images, but the imagination and talent of the crew always wins out. The still images are actually large, detailed panoramas shot with a roving camera and edited quickly, which lend the sequences a level of clarity and kineticism that modern action films rarely achieve. The story, based on an old myth (actually from North Japan, it was changed to North Europe to give the film a more international flavour), is a brilliant translation of exactly what makes these old stories so special: the narrative is both slightly primitive and based partly on contrivance, but it uses its primitive nature to powerfully explore timeless ideas of human brotherhood and morality, and uses its ability to get away with what would, in more realistic films, seem like outlandish developments to let the filmmakers' imaginations fly free. Thus, we are allowed a sequence where Hols is double-crossed, the Earth opens up and he is flung into a metaphysical realm called The Endless Woods where he is trapped in a surreal nightmare created from another character's moral dilemma.
Although Takahata and Miyazaki would work on TV series together for the next decade (including the wonderful FUTURE BOY CONAN) one of cinema's great what-ifs is what would have happened if, rather than Toei stamping on them, the crew that made this film were able to immediately follow it up, instead of there being the 16 year gap between this and NAUSICAA. LITTLE NORSE PRINCE isn't just innovative and influential, it's a masterpiece that can completely stand next to Ghibli's finest.
THE CREATION OF THE HUMANOIDS (W Barry)
( Wesley Barry / 1962 )
Speaking of this in terms of cinematic technique, it's awful: gorgeous Eastmancolor excepting, the film is basically a dreadfully acted stage play, all talk and no action. Quite literally, in fact: the characters barely move from their marks and the camera spends as much time as possible in the same spot (to try and hide the fact that they couldn't afford to build complete sets).
That said, it has that Ed Wood-style magic that turns ineptitude into high hilarity, and possesses one of the more intelligent (save for a couple of bizarre lapses in logic) and thoughtful scripts of science fiction cinema. Although the incongruity of a great screenplay with terrible filmmaking might be too much for some people, if you can embrace camp trash (and the idea of a "thalamic transplant") you'll be rewarded with something as good as the best of THE TWILIGHT ZONE and a much less sentimental and muddled look at what it is that makes a human human than ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE.
Speaking of this in terms of cinematic technique, it's awful: gorgeous Eastmancolor excepting, the film is basically a dreadfully acted stage play, all talk and no action. Quite literally, in fact: the characters barely move from their marks and the camera spends as much time as possible in the same spot (to try and hide the fact that they couldn't afford to build complete sets).
That said, it has that Ed Wood-style magic that turns ineptitude into high hilarity, and possesses one of the more intelligent (save for a couple of bizarre lapses in logic) and thoughtful scripts of science fiction cinema. Although the incongruity of a great screenplay with terrible filmmaking might be too much for some people, if you can embrace camp trash (and the idea of a "thalamic transplant") you'll be rewarded with something as good as the best of THE TWILIGHT ZONE and a much less sentimental and muddled look at what it is that makes a human human than ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE.
THE SADIST HAS RED TEETH (J-L VAN BELLE)
( Le sadique aux dents rouge / Jean-Louis van Belle / 1971 )
Dreadfully dreary, the premise is quite promising (mental patient thinks he's becoming a vampire, psychiatrists release him and arrange a series of events to push this belief to the limit) but the film is just a sleepwalk. It portrays his descent into madness through pathetic 'surreal' effects (negative images, superimposed insects, etc), and 'symbolic' stock footage; the film is just a tired catalog of horror tropes, stitched together in the loosest possible manner.
Dreadfully dreary, the premise is quite promising (mental patient thinks he's becoming a vampire, psychiatrists release him and arrange a series of events to push this belief to the limit) but the film is just a sleepwalk. It portrays his descent into madness through pathetic 'surreal' effects (negative images, superimposed insects, etc), and 'symbolic' stock footage; the film is just a tired catalog of horror tropes, stitched together in the loosest possible manner.
GOKE, BODY SNATCHER FROM HELL (H Sato)
( Kyuketsuki Gokemidoro / Hajime Sato / 1968 )
Although familiar in structure (strangers isolated in a wilderness, under siege from terrors unknown) this Japanese sci-fi horror, with its nifty special effects and fable-like approach, is handled with confidence and becomes an underseen gem.
Although familiar in structure (strangers isolated in a wilderness, under siege from terrors unknown) this Japanese sci-fi horror, with its nifty special effects and fable-like approach, is handled with confidence and becomes an underseen gem.
THE HORRIBLE SECRET OF DR HICHCOCK (R Freda)
( The Terror of Dr Hichcock / L'orribile segreto del Dr. Hichcock / Riccardo Freda / 1962 )
Dr Hichcock finds a second use for his pioneering drug which emulates near-death in a patient so that risky surgery can be performed more safely: necrophilic sex games. Unfortunately this proves to be less than safe for his first wife who promptly dies, and the good doctor leaves his home and his hospital. Years later he returns to his home and practice with new wife, Barbara Steele, in tow. Steele quickly realises, however, that his first wife, in spirit at least, is far from dead and buried.
The script by Ernesto Gastaldi (THE CASE OF THE BLOODY IRIS) is obviously a loose reworking of Maurier's REBECCA and, in theory, is a fine choice of inspiration as Hitchcock's version of the tale is all but a horror film itself: a ghost story without a ghost. Riccardo Freda, a competent Italian director (I VAMPIRI), directs with a certain amount of style but the script lacks the subtle intensity of Hitchcock and - necrophilia theme aside - the film does not go far enough into horror territory to justify the adaptation.
Dr Hichcock finds a second use for his pioneering drug which emulates near-death in a patient so that risky surgery can be performed more safely: necrophilic sex games. Unfortunately this proves to be less than safe for his first wife who promptly dies, and the good doctor leaves his home and his hospital. Years later he returns to his home and practice with new wife, Barbara Steele, in tow. Steele quickly realises, however, that his first wife, in spirit at least, is far from dead and buried.
The script by Ernesto Gastaldi (THE CASE OF THE BLOODY IRIS) is obviously a loose reworking of Maurier's REBECCA and, in theory, is a fine choice of inspiration as Hitchcock's version of the tale is all but a horror film itself: a ghost story without a ghost. Riccardo Freda, a competent Italian director (I VAMPIRI), directs with a certain amount of style but the script lacks the subtle intensity of Hitchcock and - necrophilia theme aside - the film does not go far enough into horror territory to justify the adaptation.
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