Tuesday, October 31, 2017
"But there is no vanquishing evil for good, and there is no extinguishing hope either. We just sometimes need the reminder that we are stronger than the shadows."
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Tobe Hooper left behind a nightmare landscape that tracked uncomfortably well to the American one. From remote farmhouses in Texas to southern Californian suburbia there was death lurking just behind the door. Families could become monsters and children could come back as vampires. America is a haunted country, constantly on the run from its own past, and Hooper’s work showed an acute understanding of the truths we can’t bring ourselves to say. He found horror lurking everywhere on Earth, and in one of his most startling works he found it lurking in outer space too.
In 1985 B movie studio Cannon was looking to go A list. Their attempt at that was an adaptation of Colin Wilson’s The Space Vampires. Forgoing their usual practice of shaving away a promised budget to finance several additional pictures they laid out money for big names. The special effects were handled by Star Wars alum John Dykstra. Henry Mancini traded the cocktail swing of his The Pink Panther score for a very good John Barry impression. Dan O'Bannon (Alien) did the script. It was a decision only Cannon could make.The film wildly veers from a locked room mystery to a serial killer who can hop bodies to a zombie apocalypse climax, while taking time for memorable moments such as Sir Patrick Stewart vomiting a geyser of blood and exploding. If the plan was for Cannon producers Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus to pretend to be major studio producers, and for Tobe Hooper to pretend to be Ridley Scott, I’m happy to say it did not work. Lifeforce’s failure at the box office is not much of a surprise but its failure to find an enthusiastic cult in the years since is.
The story seems tailor made for people who pre-order the latest Scream Factory blu-ray. It starts with a spaceship coming back to Earth with all but one of its crew dead. In the ship’s hold a mysterious woman is in some kind of hibernation. The story ends with a pile of zombie corpses in front of St. Paul’s Cathedral. But Lifeforce’s chilly reception hinges on the film’s unapologetically baroque tone and a narrative incoherence that wings the viewer from Point A to Point Zombie Apocalypse without resolving many of its subplots. And yet the overall effect of Lifeforce is closest to my memories of looking at lurid sci-fi and horror paperback covers before I was old enough to read them. The places my imagination taking me based on those strange, ominous images were often miles away from the story inside. In an entertainment climate where you have seen almost every new movie before, and can see its plot twists coming from the trailer, the idea of a movie actually surprising you starts to look appealing. If you’re willing to watch it knowing you honestly will have no idea where the film is going next, Lifeforce is often exhausting but not easily forgotten.
Lifeforce’s cast is a collection stalwart British character actors, the kind who wear turtlenecks and smoke when calmly discussing what to do about an alien, shapeshifting killer on the loose. This is perhaps another reason for the film’s difficulty in picking up admirers. The film’s scientists and government officials do not quip or load shotguns with a single shake of the arm. They’re simply adults who are good at their jobs. And adults who are good at their jobs were about to go extinct as blockbuster heroes in 1985. The entire film feels curiously like a raucous wake for strains of entertainment and types of stories that were on the way out. Drawing on disparate threads like the Quatermass movies (a British series about a scientist constantly tangling with extraterrestrial threats), and the delirium soaked sci-fi art of Jean “Moebius” Giraud and Philippe Druillet the film creates a tactile world of naked vampire women and sinewy corpses that was about to be brushed away for CGI and the PG-13 rating.
Tobe Hooper had a knack for digging out the horror in the breakdown of systems, from how families could fail to protect us from harm, to the collapse of communities who fail to repel an invading evil. In Lifeforce everything is breaking down, from common sense to cities, to the very fabric of space. There is no center and nothing holds. It was an impossible sell to audiences in 1985, but in that curious way movies have of finding their moment it’s very much ripe for rediscovery right now. In this time that feels like a carnival ride that slipped its brakes, where nothing appears to have meaning and outrage is topped by outrageousness and then all swept away by the next howling fiasco, Lifeforce was a sci-fi horror film that saw our inability to save ourselves, to avoid readily obvious danger. Like Steve Railsback’s astronaut, we opened our arms to our own destruction for the sheer novelty of it. Hooper’s death feels so acute, because he saw so clearly where we were going.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
“Day of the Dead is okay” seems to be the inevitable thing to say about Romero’s third zombie film. Its reputation as an also ran, a minor player to the major league hitters of the first two has not improved much in the ensuing years. It was hamstrung by a budget that ended up much smaller than what Romero intended for the story. And it’s a bitter, bleak film, with very little of the black humor of Dawn of Dead or the quiet tragedy of Night of the Living Dead to leaven it. It’s targets seem both too small and too large, “people are awful” not a particularly new, or radical statement. But what felt weirdly apolitical in 1985 feels a great deal different in 2016 and what came after.
In the baked Florida heat a helicopter pilot John (Terry Alexander) surveys the ruin that was Miami. While back at an underground military base Sarah (Lori Cardille) is troubled by bad dreams. She’s nominally working with a group of military men on a solution to the zombie outbreak. But the officer in charge, Rhodes (Joseph Pilato), acts more like he’s looking forward to they day when he can finally stop pretending to listen to her and just start sexuality assaulting her.
That resentment of women is literally killing us is what gives the film teeth. Sarah’s ideas and orders are constantly overridden by the other men. Often leading to devastating consequences. The apocalypse that feels strangely small on the outside, heightens the chamber piece going on inside the base. They are some of the last humans left on Earth and they act as beastial as the groaning horde clawing at the perimeter fence trying to get in. The zombies are muted in their threat, you know what they’ll do and you know if you can stay out of their reach you’ll be safe. There are no such guarantees with the humans you’re trapped with.
The zombies have become in the third film the inevitability of death. They are dangerous but the real test is in how we carry ourselves in the face of certain destruction. And in Day of the Dead and in real life people failed that test of character spectacularly. Things only fall apart in the film when paranoia and resentment take control of most of the human cast’s abilities to reason and live with another. That is why Day’s reputation deserves to come out of the shadow of the first two Dead films. It’s the Romero film for the cracking up of 2016 and the long march of Trump’s first year in office. The characters mad rush to kill each other before the zombies do eerily prefigures Americans turning on each other rather than deal with existential threats like climate change.
Romero’s zombie films do not offer solutions. They usually do not even offer an ending of finding a place of relative safety for their characters. So it’s interesting that the closest Romero gets to a Hollywood ending of Sarah and John escaping to an island feels like a last sip of whiskey as the plane barrels toward the earth. There will be no zombie cure. There will be no recovery of civilization. There will only be two people telling each other stories by a fire as the world ends. And that lands especially heavy now. As even Romero couldn’t foresee us ensuring all our islands will be underwater.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
Taking a break from the current maelstrom by taking a page from Sheila O'Malley. Her expansive post on the women she loves was marvelous. And in this rough time I want to take a moment to celebrate and revel in the women I admire, am enchanted by, who make me laugh, make me think, and make the world a more interesting place. And this is by no means a definitive list.
Babylon the Great
Carly Rae Jepsen
Cloud 9 by Olivia
Girl gang, 1930s.
From Joan Didion's The White Album.
Lana Del Rey
L'Eclat by Tamara De Lempicka
Marsha P. Johnson
Millie Bobby Brown
Pearl Harbor factory workers practice firefighting drills during WWII.
Protester at Iran's Green Revolution demonstrations, 2009.
Subway Angel, her story here.
From Teffi's Memories: From Moscow to the Black Sea.
The White Rose and The Red Rose by Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh
Victory by Augustus Saint-Gaudens
Women's March attendees on their way to the protests in Washington D.C., 2017.