Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn Found Footage. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng
Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn Found Footage. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng

Thứ Ba, 23 tháng 9, 2014

WILLOW CREEK - BluRay/DVD Review By Greg Klymkiw - Anchor Bay BRD Defines "Keeper"

BIGFOOT LIVES!
YOU WILL BELIEVE!
BUT DON'T GO CAMPING
WITHOUT A GUN!
NO FUCKING KIDDING!
Willow Creek (2013)
Dir. Bobcat Goldthwait
Starring: Alexie Gilmore, Bryce Johnson

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Willow Creek is such a terrific horror film - original, funny and superbly directed by the incomparable Bobcat Goldthwait that it demands a big screen experience, so much so, that failing the opportunity to see it theatrically, it's the kind of picture you want to OWN on a format that's going to deliver maximum impact - not only on a first viewing, but subsequent helpings as well.

For my money. nothing less than Blu-Ray will do (or if you absolutely must, I grudgingly acknowledge DVD). The film is such an immersive experience, it might even be better seeing it at home. There you won't have to deal with, uh, people. Though I will admit, in the case of Willow Creek, it's kind of fun listening to people jump, scream and then feel that collective winded silence when the movie ends.

You can, however, get that at home too. I screened the movie for my little girl and it was a blast having her respond with utter terror. In fairness, she also responded to the humour, commented on how much she liked "how the movie was made" and then wanted Dad to do Google searches after the movie that dealt with the Gimlin-Patterson bigfoot footage and as much stuff out there that I could find on the bigfoot/sasquatch phenomenon. In any event, you want the best picture and sound to experience this film, not just to terrify your 13-year-old daughter, but yourself and anyone you choose to show it to.

Thankfully North Americans will have that opportunity with the Anchor Bay Canada and Anchor Bay Entertainment Blu-Ray release of Willow Creek which not only comes replete with a gorgeous high-def picture and sound transfer, but an amiable, insightful commentary track that includes writer-director Bobcat Goldthwait, stars Alexie Gilmore and Bryce Johnson.

If you're planning to see the film at home on Blu-Ray (or, if you must, DVD), here is how you must watch it. (This is how you should watch ALL films at home, but especially films like Willow Creek.

1. Turn off all telephones.

2. Make sure everyone has expunged ALL waste matter. No pausing of the film is allowed. No ingestion of solids or fluids that will inspire a need to expunge waste matter.

3. ALL blinds must be drawn, ALL lights must be off. NO LIGHT PERIOD.

Now, you're ready to watch and now, my review of the film proper:


* * * * *

In the wilderness, in the dark, it’s sound that plays tricks upon your eyes – not what you can’t see, but what your imagination conjures with every rustle, crack, crunch, moan and shriek. When something outdoors whacks the side of your tent, reality sinks in, the palpability of fear turns raw, numbing and virtually life-draining.

You’re fucked! Right royally fucked!

There were, of course, the happier times – when you and the woman you loved embarked on the fun-fuelled journey of retracing the steps of Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin who, in the fall of 1967 shot a little less than 1000 frames of motion picture footage of an entity they encountered striding through the isolated Bluff Creek in North-Western California.

Your gal was humouring you, of course. She was indulging you. She was not, however, mocking you – she was genuinely enjoying this time of togetherness in the wilderness as you lovebirds took turns with the camera and sound equipment to detail the whole experience. You both sauntered into every cheesy tourist trap in the area, chatted amiably with numerous believers and non-believers alike and, of course, you both dined on scrumptious Bigfoot burgers at a local greasy spoon.

Yup, Bigfoot – the legendary being sometimes known as Sasquatch or Yeti – a tall, broad, hairy, ape-like figure who captured the hearts, minds and imaginations of indigenous populations and beyond – especially when the Patterson-Gimlin footage took the world by storm. And now, here you both are in Willow Creek, California, following the footsteps of those long-dead amateur filmmakers.

All of us have been watching, with considerable pleasure, your romantic antics throughout the day. When night falls, we’ve joined you in your tent and soon, the happy times fade away and we’re all wishing we had some receptacle to avoid soiling our panties. You’re probably wishing the same thing, because in no time at all, you’re going to have the crap scared out of you.

We have, of course, entered the world of Bobcat Goldthwait’s Willow Creek. Goldthwait is one of the funniest men alive – a standup comedian of the highest order and a terrific comic actor, oft-recognized for his appearances in numerous movies (including the Police Academy series). He’s voiced a myriad of cartoon characters and directed Jimmy Kimmel’s TV show and subsequent concert flick.

In addition to these achievements, Goldthwait has solidified himself as one of the most original, exciting and provocative contemporary American film directors working today. His darkly humoured, satirical and (some might contend) completely over-the-top films are infused with a unique voice that’s all his own. They’ve made me laugh longer and harder than almost anything I’ve seen during the past two decades or so.

Even more astounding is that his films – his first depicting the life of an alcoholic birthday party clown, one involving dog fellatio, another about an accidental teen strangulation during masturbation and yet another which delivered a violent revenge fantasy for Liberals – ALL have a deep current of humanity running through them. His movies are as deeply observational and genuinely moving as they are nastily funny and often jaw-droppingly shocking.

God Bless America, for example, is clearly the most perverse vigilante movie ever made. Goldthwait created a wonderful character in Frank, an average American white-collar worker who suffers noisy neighbours, endless hours of TV he hates but watches anyway, loses his job for sexually harassing a dumpy co-worker who’s been coming on to him, is estranged from a wife who left him for a hunky, thick-witted cop, only gets to see his daughter by promising to buy her things he can’t afford and has recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. When this beleaguered schlub begins a spree of mass murder, doing what all Liberals must do when civilization is on the brink of collapse, we’re with him all the way. When he teams up with a like-minded 12-year-old girl, the two of them a veritable Bonnie and Clyde, blasting away at America’s most vile entities, Goldthwait’s movie goes ballistic and so do we, cheering on these very cool birds of a feather who kill people – not because they’re necessarily criminals, but because they are horrible human beings contributing to society’s downfall.

I actually thought Goldthwait was going to have a hard time following that one, but I was wrong, of course. Willow Creek is a corker! It forces you to emit cascades of urine from laughing so hard, then wrenches sausage chubs of steaming excrement out of your bowels as it scares you out of your wits.

It’s a ‘found footage’ film, but I hesitate to use the almost-dirty-word to describe it, because Goldthwait, unlike far too many boneheads, hardly resorts to the sloppy tropes of the now tiresome genre. He’s remained extremely true and consistent to the conceit and in so doing, uses it as an effective storytelling tool to generate an honest-to-goodness modern masterwork of horror.

His attractive leads are nothing less than engaging. Lead actor Bryce Johnson has a naturally comic and commanding presence. As a bonus, he reveals a scrumptious posterior that the ladies will admire (and, of course, gentlemen of the proper persuasion). Alexie Gilmore is so attractive, sharp, smart and funny that it would be a shame if stardom wasn’t in the cards for her.

Goldthwait’s clever mixture of real locals and actors is perfection and the movie barrels along with a perfect pace to allow you to get to know and love the protagonists, laugh with them, laugh with the locals (not at them) and finally to plunge you into the film’s shuddering, shocking and horrific final third. The movie both creeps you out and forces you to jump out of your seat more than once.

Goldthwait is the real thing. If you haven’t seen his movies up to this point, you must. As for Willow Creek, I’d urge everyone to see the film on a big screen with a real audience if they can. When things get super-terrifying, you can feel that wonderful electric buzz that can only happen when you’re at the movies. Sure, it will work fine at home in a dark room with your best girlie snuggled at your side on the comfy couch, but – WOW! – this is a genuine BIG SCREEN EVENT. Try to see it that way, first! The movie is so good that it holds up nicely on subsequent viewings, allowing you to appreciate the full nuance of Goldthwait’s direction, his expert use of sound, the delectable humour (black and otherwise shaded) and then, there’s the bravura with which Goldthwait gives you the willies before he delivers several moments of cinematic cold cocking roundhouse blows.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** 5-Stars

Willow Creek is now available in North America via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada and Anchor Bay. In the Uk, it's available released on DVD via Kaleidoscope Home Entertainment. If you don't own it, buy it.

Thứ Bảy, 10 tháng 5, 2014

MR. JONES - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Scarecrows are super-creepy and thankfully, so's this horror movie.

Is it art? Is it a real scarecrow? Or is it both?
Whatever it is, it's pretty fucking creepy.

Horror Movies Need Babes.
Sarah Jones fits the bill.
Very nicely, indeed.
Mr. Jones (2013) ***1/2
Dir. Karl Müller
Starring: Jon Foster, Sarah Jones, Mark Steger

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Scott (Jon Foster) is a self absorbed asshole. His wife Penny (Sarah Jones) not only cares about him, but as such, seems destined for sainthood. She's given up home, friends, family, comfort and career to move out into the middle of nowhere so hubby can chill out from his depression and recharge his creative juices to make a personal nature documentary. Of course, the hope is that something of their relationship can be salvaged. At first, all seems well. The couple is lovey-dovey, the scenery is gorgeous, Scott shoots lots of footage and Sarah seems satisfied her man can return to the man she originally fell in love with. All seems well in paradise but alas, perfection has a bad habit of dissipating into disappointment.

Scott selfishly begins weaning himself off his anti-depressants, stops shooting altogether, lazes about under the pretext of seeking inspiration and gradually becomes nasty and verbally abusive. To make matters worse, they discover something creepy in the woods.

Karl Müller wrote the superb dystopian Xavier Gens science fiction thriller The Divide and makes an impressive directorial debut with Mr. Jones. This creepy low-budget horror film, like the former title, includes everything on the checklist one finds attached to micro-price-tagged genre pictures to ensure their actual production. Like Müller's previous script, he writes a piece here that doesn't draw attention to the film's meagre cash resources and instead places emphasis on character, atmosphere and genuine pit-of-the-stomach terror.

And let me tell you, a couple on the rocks, a hubby off his rocker and being in the middle of nowhere, is not the ideal series of circumstances to start discovering a whole whack of scarecrow figures in the cabin's vicinity. It's Penny who first realizes that this might be the work of a mysterious and reclusive artist whom one prominent expert has dubbed "Mr. Jones". The couple finds some common ground to get things back on track - so much so, they begin exploring the area even more intensely and discover another cabin, deep in the woods.

Mr. Jones is ready for a mind-fuck.
ARE YOU?
What they discover in the cabin is so uncanny that Scott is inspired to trash his nature documentary and logically decides to make a film about Mr. Jones. Clearly he hopes to make contact with the man and get him on camera since nobody has ever met the J.D. Salinger-like recluse before. For years, Jones has anonymously deposited these art pieces at galleries and even people's homes. With Penny's blessing, Scott takes off for the city to interview a few experts on the subject. Now if I were Penny, I don't know how keen I'd be to wait alone in the middle of nowhere with s mysterious dude lurking nearby and setting up freaky scarecrows. If she didn't, there wouldn't be much of a movie. Besides, the picture's proved to be plenty cool and I was certainly up for the crosscutting twixt info Scott finds out in the city and the nuggets Penny gleans in the country.

Scott learns a whole lotta weird shit. Penny, gets to experience it. In both cases it seems like they're sharing dreams, or rather, nightmares. Or are they? The movie slowly and eerily transforms into a major head-fuck and we soon have no idea whose perspective we're seeing things from. However, whatever POV we get (sometimes they even seem to be blended on camera and in dreams or, uh, real life), writer-director Müller lobs mega-scary shit in our direction with considerable intensity and aplomb.

And yes, there's a found footage thing going on, but given the fact that the lead character is making a documentary, there's a good reason for it. Even more than that, the video camera POV is cleverly integrated to the point where the narrative becomes inextricably linked to it because. . . well, no sense giving that away.

What Müller delivers in the final half hour is a major league trip. In fact, a good way to watch this is alone, in the dark, with nothing to disturb you whilst watching from beginning to end with the sound on your TV cranked to the max. It's what I did and I genuinely had trouble sleeping that night.

Now that's a horror movie!

Mr. Jones is available on DVD via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada Ltd. Feel free to buy it directly from the Amazon links below, and in so doing, you'll be contributing to the ongoing maintenance of The Film Corner.

Thứ Năm, 2 tháng 1, 2014

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY: THE MARKED ONES - Review By Greg Klymkiw - The Dreaded Hispanic Fifth Wheel

More of the same found footage activities of the paranormal kind come our way in this fifth instalment of the ghostly horror series about witchcraft and demonic possession captured by people who seem to do nothing else but shoot every second of their lives through home video cameras.

Come join me at
Satan's Tupperware Party!
Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones (2014) *
Dir. Christopher Landon
Starring: Andrew Jacobs, Jorge Diaz, Gabrielle Walsh

Review By Greg Klymkiw

After seeing the first Paranormal Activity, I hoped there'd never be a sequel. I knew this was wishful thinking, but when I see a picture that feels perfect, I don't want its existence besmirched by an endless barrage of substandard instalments that deliver more of the same, but go out of their way to generate useless backstory and fleshing-out. After seeing the first film, I felt delectably walloped, but was also left with enough questions about what had occurred that they enriched the experience by lending an air of mystery to the proceedings. I didn't want to know that Katie was the target of an ages-old conspiracy of witches carrying out demonic possession, nor did I want to know the reasons why. What happened in the first film was enough.

Even still, I'd gird my loins appropriately and then faithfully see each and every new instalment. Parts II and III of the followups, though bereft of the power of the first, were surprisingly fun, creepy and offering enough jolts to satisfy me on visceral levels. Part IV, though, seemed like the beginning of the end and the latest instalment comes close to tarring and feathering Oren Peli's original offering.

I might be possessed, but I still
brush my teeth twixt hauntings.
The Marked Ones is set against the backdrop of California's Hispanic community. Given how scary Santeria is - at least for this fella - I thought that maybe we'd go into somewhat different territory. Alas, this is something that's never exploited for what it could have been worth.

What it barfs up instead is a Hispanic kid with a video camera discovering weird stuff in an apartment below his own family's abode.

A well-known witch in the community boasts a series of odd comings and goings including a pal from school. The pal is always distant and in a hurry. Lucky, for all concerned, we're treated to a ritual involving the naked old witch and a gorgeous young lovely displaying full frontal nudity. However, what follows is pure tedium until the last 20-or-so minutes when the filmmakers deliver a close-but-no-cigar fright-fest.

This, of course, is hardly enough to save the picture.

A clutch of Hispanic kids break into the apartment after it's been sealed with police tape after a grisly murder and then, more of the same - weird noises, odd images and the ever-mounting dread that a kick-ass climax will ensue. The movie briefly skirts with Hispanic gang involvement, but this is never properly fleshed out. Like all the sequels, we never get a sense of the characters and hence, don't really care what's going to happen.

This is all more retreading on a well worn series and the only new element is that the filmmakers have ensured a whole new marketplace amongst Hispanic audiences. Replete with vaguely ethnocentric trappings, one expects appearances from either Topo Gigio and/or The Frito Bandito.

How the mighty continue to fall - this time to the strains of La Cucaracha.

"Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones" is in wide theatrical release worldwide via Paramount.

Thứ Sáu, 25 tháng 10, 2013

WILLOW CREEK ***** Review By Greg Klymkiw - Toronto After Dark Film Festival 2013 It's Official, Bobcat Goldthwait is one of America's Best Living Directors & his new film is as hilariously brilliant as it is chilling and crap-your-pants terrifying as anything I've seen in years. The picture DEMANDS big-screen exposure!

HAPPY DAYS - NOT FOR TOO LONG, THANKFULLY.
Willow Creek (2013) *****
Dir. Bobcat Goldthwait
Starring: Alexie Gilmore,
Bryce Johnson

Review By Greg Klymkiw

In the wilderness, in the dark, it's sound that plays tricks upon your eyes - not what you can't see, but what your imagination conjures with every rustle, crack, crunch, moan and shriek. When something outdoors whacks the side of your tent, reality sinks in, the palpability of fear turns raw, numbing and virtually life-draining.

You're fucked! Right royally fucked!

There were, of course, the happier times - when you and the woman you loved embarked on the fun-fuelled journey of retracing the steps of Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin who, in the fall of 1967 shot a little less than 1000 frames of motion picture footage of an entity they encountered striding through the isolated Bluff Creek in North-Western California.

Your gal was humouring you, of course. She was indulging you. She was not, however, mocking you - she was genuinely enjoying this time of togetherness in the wilderness as you lovebirds took turns with the camera and sound equipment to detail the whole experience. You both sauntered into every cheesy tourist trap in the area, chatted amiably with numerous believers and non-believers alike and, of course, you both dined on scrumptious Bigfoot burgers at a local greasy spoon.

Yup, Bigfoot - the legendary being sometimes known as Sasquatch or Yeti - a tall, broad, hairy, ape-like figure who captured the hearts, minds and imaginations of indigenous populations and beyond - especially when the Patterson-Gimlin footage took the world by storm. And now, here you both are in Willow Creek, California, following the footsteps of those long-dead amateur filmmakers.

All of us have been watching, with considerable pleasure, your romantic antics throughout the day. When night falls, we've joined you in your tent and soon, the happy times fade away and we're all wishing we had some receptacle to avoid soiling our panties. You're probably wishing the same thing, because in no time at all, you're going to have the crap scared out of you.

We have, of course, entered the world of Bobcat Goldthwait's Willow Creek. Goldthwait is one of the funniest men alive - a standup comedian of the highest order and a terrific comic actor, oft-recognized for his appearances in numerous movies (including the Police Academy series). He's voiced a myriad of cartoon characters and directed Jimmy Kimmel's TV show and subsequent concert flick.

In addition to these achievements, Goldthwait has solidified himself as one of the most original, exciting and provocative contemporary American film directors working today. His darkly humoured, satirical and (some might contend) completely over-the-top films are infused with a unique voice that's all his own. They've made me laugh longer and harder than most anything I've seen during the past two decades or so. Even more astounding, is that his films - his first depicting the life of an alcoholic birthday party clown, one involving dog fellatio, another about an accidental teen strangulation during masturbation and yet another which delivered a violent revenge fantasy for Liberals - are ALL films that have a deep current of humanity running through them. His films are as deeply observational and genuinely moving as they are nastily funny and often jaw-droppingly shocking.


Willow Creek is a corker! It forces you to emit cascades of urine from laughing so hard and then wrenches wads of steaming excrement out of your bowels as it scares you completely and utterly out of your wits. It's a "found footage" film, but I almost hesitate to use the almost-dirty-word term to describe it, because Goldthwait, unlike far too many boneheads, hardly resorts to the sloppy tropes of the now-tiresome genre.

He's remained extremely true and consistent to the conceit and in so doing, used it as an effective storytelling tool to generate an honest-to-goodness modern masterwork of horror. His attractive leads are nothing less than engaging (lead actor Johnson reveals a scrumptious posterior for the ladies and, of course, gentlemen of the proper persuasion). Goldthwait's clever mixture of real locals and actors is perfection and the movie barrels along with a perfect pace to allow you to get to know and love the protagonists, laugh with them, laugh with the locals (not at them and finally to plunge you into the film's shuddering, shocking and horrific final third. The movie both creeps you out and forces you to jump out of your seat more than once.

Goldthwait is the real thing. If you haven't seen his movies up to this point, you must. As for Willow Creek, I urge everyone to see the film on a big screen with a real audience. Sure, the movie will work fine at home in a dark room with your best girlie snuggled at your side on the comfy couch, but - WOW! - this is a genuine BIG SCREEN EVENT. Try to see it that way, first!

"Willow Creek" is an official selection of the Toronto After Dark Film Festival.

Thứ Ba, 24 tháng 1, 2012

THE AMITYVILLE HAUNTING - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Imagine, if you will, a horror film in which nothing happens and has no scares.



The Amityville Haunting (2011) dir. Geoff Meed
Starring: Devin Clark, Douglas Williams, Amy Van Horne, Casey Campbell

*

By Greg Klymkiw

Though the "found footage" horror movie à la The Blair Witch Project and Paranormal Activity is becoming overused, old-hat and an excuse for any bonehead to pick up a camera and make a movie, this is still a reasonable format to render a rip-snorting scare-fest - if, of course, those behind the camera have even the vaguest idea of what they're doing which, the makers of The Amityville Haunting do not.

I can't say I ever much liked Stuart Rosenberg's original 70s Amityville picture. It was relatively watchable, but erratically directed - veering from plodding to overwrought. What saved it, of course, was its terrific cast of James Brolin, Margot Kidder, Don Stroud and a healthy serving of one of the more delightful hunks of Rod Steiger ham. I liked the 2005 remake even less - fraught as it was with the too fashionable A.D.D.-styled editing and accent on numbing pyrotechnics - and the Amityville sequels between 1979 and 2005 were as rotten as an exhumed corpse on a hot day.

The Amityville Haunting, however, reaches an unimaginable nadir for even this ho-hum franchise. While a "found footage" instalment is a reasonable enough approach to a film dealing with the house that haunted the Lutz family back in '79, the makers of this abomination display no talent for writing, directing or editing. Certainly there are no magnificent set pieces imbued with the thought and proficiency displayed in Oren Peli's Paranormal Activity franchise and it's bereft of Peli's brilliant gift for pacing which creates endless creepy-crawlies and shocks that truly deliver one roundhouse after another.

This 'found footage" septic tank purporting to be a movie is paced with all the constipated delicacy of its incompetent director Geoff Meed endlessly attempting to emit anything resembling a turd. Upon straining his gluteus maximus with Herculean vigour, Meek manages to self-perforate his sphincter du cinéma which results in a few bleeding anal fissures. During the picture's non-event climax, he emits what appear to be a couple of rock-hard étrons de le lapin.

What we get, finally, is a really stupid family moving into the Amityville House - knowing its entire history - while their obnoxious, untalented kid videotapes them moving in and occasionally noticing the requisite weird occurrences. Add to the mix a whole mess of dull surveillance footage and bits of iPhone-captured action and we've got a recipe for boredom. If the makers of the picture had something resembling talent, the mixture of video mediums could have been a decent way to present the story, but they have no idea how to blend it all cohesively and ultimately, there really isn't anything that resembles a story.

The last few minutes deliver a whole lot of pathetically rendered carnage that mostly takes place off-screen with titles over black that read: "Corrupted Video". It's corrupted all right - with not a single moment of competence. In this sense, the movie might be the most pure work of cinema ever made - pure, unadulterated Loser-ville.

That said, the movie has a handful of decent unintentional laughs, but alas, they're too few and far between to place this culot de matières fécales de l'anus d'un lapin in the movie-so-bad-you've-gotta-see-it category. One scene, however, is almost hilarious enough to rent the movie. It involves a visit from a detective who might actually be more stupid than anyone in this or any other movie.

Ah, screw it! There's no real reason to see The Amityville Haunting.

I did, though, so you don't have to.

"The Amityville Haunting" is available on DVD and Blu-Ray via VSC (Video Service Corp.) VSC often releases cool stuff, though, and be on the lookout for my mixed, but positive review of their release of the SYFY undead opus with Ving Rhames "Zombie Apocalypse" in the next issue of The Phantom of the Movies Videoscope.