Review: Fine Housekeep

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2016

Images from the Internet

Fine Housekeep

Written, directed, shot and edited by Trevor Bather

Trashmonger Video

57 minutes, 2015

www.facebook.com/transmongervideo

Full movie free HERE

If you will indulge me the flash of ego, I’m a smart guy. I have a Master’s degree from a credible university, a long reach in cinema history, and know how to put together a metaphor. And yet, when it comes to a certain level of esoterica and abstraction, I get a bit lost.

As an undergrad, I had a professor who was into expressionist and surrealistic films by the likes of Stan Brakhage, and would show us their works such as Dog Star Man (1961-64). Without being able to read the films due to lack of narrative storylines, I was completely lost. It’s another reason I’ve avoided James Joyce’s novels Ulysses (1922) and Finnegans Wake (1939). This situation was handled beautifully in a 1963 animated short, The Critic (1963; starring Mel Brooks, and which won an Oscar for Animated Short, by the way). I know I’m digressing, but there is a bit of that here, as well, though I am hardly comparing this film to them.

The Wife

A man with wild eyes credited as The Husband (Ben Kepley) is sitting in his living room. Meanwhile, The Wife (Tyler Antoine), whose face throughout the film is covered in cream (looks like the shaving kind) and has cucumber wedges over her eyes, lolls around on a couch. They are both in a stream of consciousness state (drug induced, perhaps?), daydreaming about themselves in various situations. For example, he imagines himself as Jesus, in robes and carrying a wooden cross medallion (like the size Eastern Orthodox priests wear); she pictures herself dancing with a deranged looking football player?/fan? (Andrew Freud), who is often smacking and pursing his lips. We also follow his fantasy, at some point.

About half way through, there is a nicely done gory scene that is reminiscent of the Black Dahlia murder in 1947 (I’m willing to bet it was an influence), which is actually key to a way to look at this film. Rather than just being surrealistic, it would perhaps be better categorized (if that’s possible) into Transgressive Cinema, a movement come to fruition in the 1980s with the likes of Richard Kern and Nick Zedd. I kept expecting Lydia Lunch to show up at any moment. While the original group used S8mm film, this one is Shot-on-Video (SOV). However, it is the shaky camera, lack of dialog and the repetitive industrial electronic music that help indicate the genre.

Then there’s the Bazooka Joe redheaded serial killer… I call him that because of his tendency of covering the lower half his face with his turtleneck sweater.

In the end, the fault lies not in the stars but in myself. What I mean by that is, much like Black Metal or Electronica, I have very little point of reference. Simply put, I honestly don’t know if this film is brilliant or twaddle. Even with its listed $100 budget, you can tell a hell of a lot of work went into the editing of this baby (did I mention the amount of abuse a baby dolly with a gold-painted head is given in the second act? Uff da!).

Honestly, I wish I could give you a profound and deep analysis of what the cream on the face meant, or what the (lawn) grass “Jesus” had on his lap was for that made him so happy, or even the apparent affection between the football guy and the killer. Not a clue.

I’ve long-time learned that a reviewer or critic (whichever you want to use as a reference) is more a gatekeeper than a gate. What that means is that one could read a review and then go watch it anyway. Never let someone’s opinion (or in my case ignorance) stop or compel you from seeing a work. Decide for yourself. It’s easy in this case, because the film is free on YouTube (see the link above, or the trailer, below).

Review: Clive Barker Origins: Salome; The Forbidden

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015
Images from the Internet

Clive Barker Origins: Salome; The Forbidden

Directed by Clive Barker
Seraphim Films
www.mvdvisual.com          

Here is what I can tell you of what I know about Clive Barker: (1) he’s British; (2) yes, he does look a bit like the love child of Seth Meyers and Paul McCartney, especially when he was younger; (3) he is gay and a champion for gay rights; and (4) in my opinion, he is a far superior horror writer than Stephen King, just not as prolific.

There is always a debate about the two, but simply put, King is more populist, and Barker is more intellectual. You don’t really have to think during a King book, as massive as it is and full of pop culture buzzwords (e.g., The Ramones come up on occasion), identifiable characters and small words. Barker’s books are intricate worlds filled with arcane and wondrous details. Both are enjoyable, but as writing skill and use of imagery goes, Barker wins hands (on word processor) down.

That being said, there are probably more who know Barker by his film directing, especially the gore-fest Hellraiser (1987, based on his own Novella “The Hellbound Heart”), where he brings into being the now cultural iconographic Lament Configuration box and the Cenobites from hell, especially Pinhead, so perfectly brought to life by Doug Bradley.

Before Hellraiser, Barker also directed two short, experimental films, which have again been collected together, along with an undated 16-minute short of interviews with Clive Barker, Doug Bradley and screenwriter/novelist Peter Atkins. My guess is it’s from 1998, the first time these two shorts were released together for home consumption.

Salome

18 minutes, 1973 / 2015
Based on Oscar Wilde’s infamous 1891 French play, this version could almost be grouped into the Nick Zedd / Richard Kern / Lydia Lunch / Beth B (et.al) school of the Cinema of Transgression that would be taking off a few years after this was filmed.

Shot in black and white in what I’m guessing is 16mm (but could be 8mm), the images are murky, grainy, shakily hand-held, and sometimes using extremely high contrasts. Oh, and did I mention the speeds occasionally slow down, such as during the title character’s Dance of the Seven Veils?

Generally, the Biblical story goes that Salome (Anne Taylor) is influenced by her mother to seduce King Herod (an unrecognizable Doug Bradley in strange make-up) into cutting off the head of John the Baptist (a very pretty young man who is not identified), as there are no credits in the film; I am going by the info on IMDB.

There is full frontals of both genders, which was extremely rare at the time (the first nude male I ever saw onscreen was Don Johnson in The Harrad Experiment, which came out the same year as Salome). Shown over some plinking music, the film is essentially silent whereas there is no dialogue, but there are Foley additions to the soundtrack. While kept at a level of surreal, if you know the Biblical story, it isn’t too hard to figure out the essential story.

This is a film of patience, meaning if the viewer has some, there is some interesting work here. The acting is stage level, meaning a bit overblown (purposefully, I’m guessing, as they are essentially making a silent film, and that was the trend back in the pre-sound days, and further along), but it gives a better idea of what is happening, considering the visuals and the editing. On the other hand, I couldn’t make heads or tails out of much of the visuals of Transformers (2007), either.

I would consider this a successful film, but don’t think it’s necessarily for mass consumption.

The Forbidden

35 minutes, 1978 / 2015
Also based on a classic tale, this time we are given a version of Faust, who sold his soul to the devil in exchange for power and beauty in the form of Gretchen (Lyn Darnell), but of course, life is fleeting and eternity isn’t, so the devil always wins.

We meet the bearded Faust (Peter Atkins) as he conjures up some runes to raise Mephistopheles (Clive Barker), who first appears to be some kind of Asian version of a demon with exaggerated mask and kimono-type outfit.

Filmed half a decade after Salome, again, there is no dialogue, but there is music and sound effects. This time, however, most of the film is shown in the negative. As annoying as that may sound, it actually looks good, especially when you think that the black ink on white paper was most likely white ink on black paper. A lot of thought must have gone into the look of it.

Through most of the second act, Barker is not only nude, but sporting a “Mr. Happy” (which I don’t think I remember seeing in a straight film until either 2003’s The Brown Bunny or 2006’s Shortbus). He dances and it waggles while he performs a spell for Faust.

Possibly influenced by the works of Kenneth Anger (confirmed by the interviews in the extra section), the film has a dark side that the actors seem to revel in, which is no surprise, as Atkins, Barker and Bradley all belonged to the British avant-garde theater group, the Dog Company; their connection was made then and stayed around well into the Hellraiser years.

There’s a bit of an extended gruesome scene in the third act where our protagonist’s skin is sliced and peeled off by women with scalpels (separation of body and soul, perhaps, or maybe this is his torture for eternity in hell), which isn’t quite as wow as the fishhooks ripping Andrew Robinson apart in Hellraiser, but definitely a nascent idea that came to fruition later. Again, as this is shot is negative, so the blood must be a white fluid because it comes out as black, and similarly, everyone must have been in dark make-up because they all appear as white; or maybe they all had really good tans? Oh, wait, it’s England. Never mind.

Like Hellraiser, which deals with the complete giving of yourself for solving the Lament Configuration, both these films are based on making bargains and getting punished for it: Salome is about sex in exchange for John the Baptist’s head, and The Forbidden about a deal with the devil.

Philosophically, can one actually go wrong on an experimental film? The same question can be raised (pun intended) about abstract paintings. There are going to be those who will be either bored or disgusted (or both) by these films. Others – you Stan Brakkage fan stand up – who will analyze it frame by frame and see the beauty of it. For me, yeah, I liked Hellraiser better and found it more accessible, but I also respect what Barker and crew were trying to do, and give them a nod. Not for everyone, certainly, especially those who expect a body count or a linear storyline, but for those who study cinema, it’s an interesting opening pawn move for Barker at the beginning of his career.

Review: Profane

Text © Richard Gary/Indie Horror Films, 2012
Images from the Internet

                            

Profane
Directed by Usama Alshaibi         
ArtVamp                                           
78 minutes, 2011    
Artvamp.com
profanethemovie.com
MVDvisual.com

This film touches a lot of cultural hot button topics, such as sex workers, and both the assimilation and strength of Muslim culture into the West (in this case Chicago). One of the areas not often breached is the blending of both.

Iranian-born director Usama Alshaibi takes a peek at the mixture of the two in an experimental release that is both explicit and artful. As Usama is male, it is no surprise that it also has a patriarchal perspective. There is a certain level of titillation that may not be as strong a focus if this were directed by a Muslim woman. But I jump ahead.

The story focuses on professional dominatrix Muna, beautifully portrayed by the lovely and full lipped Manal Kara (yes, I am a self-admitting patriarch). Usually accompanied by her Western cohort Mary (Molly Plunk), she moves seamlessly between her work, her life, and her boyfriend (also a Westerner), with the help of drugs, alcohol and attempting to reconcile and reconnect to her faith.

This begins to change, however, with two overlapping events. First, she starts hearing voices that she is convinced may be a djinn (an Arabic demon, pronounced as “gin”) whispering to her in the nights and when she tries to pray. The second is that on the way home one night from a gig, Mura and Mary get picked up by a cab driven by Ali (Dejan Mircea), a religious Muslim who believes it is his mission to save her both from her hedonistic life, and from the djinn (it is he who names what is occurring to Muna). She is confused and conflicted by both these happenings.

While a loosely narrative film in linear time, it is not necessarily undeviating from the story. Played more like a documentary (though not as “found footage” per se), there are many departures from the scope of the story with arty shots that under a less talented tout ledge, would be a mess, but Usama uses the additions to show that life is not all straightforward, and that there is even beauty in the unconventional.

Part of what is uncomfortable (well, for me anyway), are the explicit S&M scenes, as Mura and Mary (among others) stomp on scrotums, use clients as bathrooms, and abuse willing masked men in various ways, all in detail. In real life Kara and Plunk actually are sex workers, and from what I can tell from the credits, these are some of their real-life clients. While I am sure that this is prurient for some of those who will watch this, it is not for me. Sure, I love a horror movie where someone gets their face chewed off in close-up, but I can distinguish in my mind between the appliance/CGI and reality. Here, there is no question that what is happening to those men and their penises are real. In the credits, they are listed with such names as Slave Jeff, Slave Drum and Footpuppy.

When I worked in a movie theater in my youth, I remember that whenever there was a scene where some man was kicked in the nuts, immediately even man in the audience went “oooff,” followed by all the women laughing. I’ve never been sure if they were laughing at the action on screen, or the reaction of their partners. But I digress…

There is some interesting moments, whether intentional or not. For example, each scene with Ali driving the cab must have been done the same night, because it seems to always be snowing. I’m not sure if this means that it does all take place in one ride cut up into out of sequenced snippets, or they just taped it in one night, and it is supposed to be different times. Just part of the enigma of the film, I guess.

There have been some descriptors of the picture as being part of the Cinema of Transgression genre, which I can both understand, and yet with which I cannot totally agree, which is in no way indicative of how strong a film it is. Transgression brings to mind the likes of Richard Kern, Nick Zedd and Lydia Lunch. Most of this style is incoherent, played strongly for shock, and totally low-budget DIY. It’s for good reason it was closely associated with the New York punk and No Wave movement when it started. And none of this is meant as any kind of implication questioning its worth. Yes, this release has a lot of its elements, but there is a level of art and professionalism that raises it above Transgression, though it certainly does push some envelopes. Perhaps I am wrong, and ease of technology has redirected Transgression into a higher level. After all, the genre has been around since the late ‘70s, and change gotta come, as the band X-Teens once posited.

Now, this is a blog about horror films, so what does this piece of artiness about Islam and S&M have to do with horror, you may be asking yourself. It’s in the djinn (hey, I’m a poemist, as Tommy Smother’s said). Apparently, Muna was mistreated by someone in her faith in her youth (school? Clerics? Parents?), and was forced to undergo a traumatic exorcism, a somewhat common, albeit uncomfortable practice in some parts of the world. Perhaps she really was possessed, and the djinn returned? Or is it all in her mind?  Perhaps PTSD?

There is a lot of graphic and real sex-related content in the film, nearly all of it literally torturous. This is lingered upon what felt like longer than it needed to be, and while Muna and Mary are supposedly in charge, they are also slaves to their own, well, demons, such as the aforementioned drugs. There are also lingering shots of nudity, some sensual and others not, but it is obviously looking through the male eye. While I don’t think there will be many turned on by this, even with the publicity around 50 Shades of Grey, there are also many solo sensual shots of Muna in various states of undress that feel gratuitous at times. While I am not one to buck at a shower scene or something unjustified in something like Zombie Babies (2011) or The Worst Horror Movie Ever Made: The Re-Make (2008), it feel different here, and perhaps it would be less so with a woman’s perspective?

Anyway, it’s sort of a moot point, because despite the high level of real sadism and masochism present, this is an incredibly beautiful looking film, and if your stomach is up for it, it’s an interesting ride that will at the very least get you talking.