Review: Quarantine Girl

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2020
Images from the Internet

Quarantine Girl
Directed by Nicole D’Angelo, Gregory Hatanaka
CineRidge Entertainment; Cinema Epoch; Mad Sin Cinema
62 minutes, 2020
https://cinemaepoch.com/
www.madsincinema.com

As negative as the COVID-19 pandemic has been for world health, I have oft commented that a flip side to that has been the absolute explosion of artistic endeavors, especially in the cinema realm, that have been launched during the lockdown. Whether it be a Zoom-shot release or more traditional story-based as is this one, this film is a prime example of that – err – outbreak.

A lot of the leading cast is the same as the Gregory Hatanaka release Choke (2020; reviewed HERE), and with it being released around the same time, my assumption is they were filmed either back-to-back, or concurrently. Of course, this film has a limited number of players, considering the pandemic going on around while it was being shot.

Nicole D'Angelo

Ruby (Nicole D’Angelo) is a business woman who is returning from an overseas work trip, just in time for a pandemic to hit. Obviously, the disease in question in the story is COVID or at least COVID-based, but the disease is never mentioned by name, only that it effects the respiratory system, and that it is a Novel Virus. The timing of this filming is perfect, as we see Ruby walking through a supermarket early on, and the shelves are empty, especially the paper goods aisle.

We find out what is going on with her thought processes as she phones her dad (David Marc) and pal Anjie (Craijece Lewis), and on the television there is always alarms, read by the newscaster on KLOL (haha), Wendy (the Lisa London). There are some beautiful shots of nearly empty city streets, some from an overpass, or handheld cameras of city blocks devoid of humans. Her world, like the streets, is empty, but it is not vacant.

Slowly, but surely, the disease is getting worse, and those around her are affected, such as multiple shots of usage of hand sanitizer, even when not leaving the house. For a while, Ruby is still going out on jogs, has her friend Nate (Shane Ryan) over for company and a drink (there is a lot of wine, vaping and cigarette imbibing by our Ruby), a visit from her dad, and lots of conversations via media with Anjie (dammit, I keep hearing the Stones’ song in my head whenever I type her name).

Shane Ryan

Odd things keep happening, such as packages repeatedly showing up at her door (disease or not, Amazon sends its drivers out) with random things inside, and someone has hacked into the camera on her computer (the story does not try to hide who it is, but I will leave it for you to find out).

 While events worsen, and things get tighter and more closed off, it starts to wear on Ruby. Personally, I do not understand this completely. She has the Internet, a cell phone, and a television, though I did not see any books or magazines. Sure, that can be tiring to some point, but all one really needs is a hobby. One of them for Ruby is “deep cleaning,” but that’s not the same thing, nor does it last. I have been indoors for over a year (with four exceptions) and with my hobbies, such as this blog, I keep myself occupied and somewhat out of trouble. But, as always, I digress…

 By the end of the first month, as some unexplained medicines begin to run low or out, Ruby is already losing it. Not in the Gerald’s Game (2017) kind of supernatural way, but she’s starting to put on darker lipstick (for whom?), and talking to whomever is watching her through her computer, playing around with S&M with online dominatrix…Wendy the anchorwoman? Is this real or in her mind? Also, Ruby is contemplating doing some harm to herself in anger and frustration. After a month. Wow. She must be some serious Type A personality. It’s been a year and I’m still quite sane. Wait, who said that?!? Where are you?!?! Err, never mind.

Lisa London

There are some really good musical choices for incidental background, though there is also an odd use of a comical tone. Not quite Benny Hill level, but it sometimes feels out of place, such as with a neighbor peeking in her window.

By the conclusion of this story, which is hardly the end of the pandemic, as we are still in it and this was filmed before the vaccine, Ruby is a woman on the verge. But a relationship may be a change. Personally, I didn’t buy this for a second, and was ready to yell at the writer because it seems improbable, but the writer is also the main director and star of the film, D’Angelo.

Even though I generally liked the film, the dad character felt a bit underdeveloped, and there were definitely some cringy moments, which especially includes the wind-up. I did read someone who said they found it “sweet.” Huhwha? I am assuming that in real life, in those circumstances, that would not really happen. More likely someone would end up at the worst physically hurt, at the best, never talked to again. D’Angelo does an overall good job in presenting her material, and she is a good enough actor to pull it off, and I have seen her in several roles now, but that ending…

The overall film is a perfect hour-length for its story. Any more would make us all a bit restless considering the topic. Hopefully, you will get to see this film in a nostalgic way, as in “Oh, remember that pandemic; wasn’t that sumptin’?” Bet there are going to be people (me) who will miss sitting around all day in their pajamas, watching television, scanning the Internet, and shopping online. All the things that are driving people like Ruby a little bit cray-cray.

Review: Heartbeat

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2020

Images from the Internet

Heartbeat

Directed by Gregory Hatanaka

CineRidge Entertainment; Cinema Epoch; Mad Sin Cinema

73 minutes, 2020

https://cinemaepoch.com/

www.madsincinema.com

For his third feature release of the year (with another one, Quarantine Girl, expected by year-end), prolific director Gregory Hatanaka has gathered his standard troupe of players and delivered a bit of a different twist of a thriller. There is so much cast overlap with his last film, Choke (reviewed on this blog), I wonder if they were filmed concurrently. The reason I believe that is quite often the smaller the role in Choke, the more prominent the one in Heartbeat, and vicey-versey (yes, I’m leaving it that way).

Nicole D'Angelo

Jennifer (Nicole D’Angelo) is a hard-bitten and prickly news journalist who has written about a company recently, whose employees and owners are getting whacked. We get to see one of them in the prolog, which is beautifully done, though the victim (Sarah Brine, the star of Choke), is stabbed with a barber’s razor? This type of instrument is meant for slashing, not for stabbing, due to its blunt, flat top, but I’m nit-picking.

For slashing, not stabbing

What I find interesting, and I mean this not as a criticism, is that for an award-winning investigative journalist, Jennifer doesn’t really seem to be very inquisitive. When a photographer, Rick (Shane Ryan), tries to show her the connection between the murders and the article she wrote, even with evidence, she brushes him off. I feel that a good journalist would see this as another article, possibly award winning, and would jump on it. Our gal is too aloof. She has trouble even entertaining helping the local police detective on the case, Santoro (Chris Spinelli).

She’s also that way with an ex-boyfriend, the Norwegian-named Torsten (Scott Butler) – which means Thor’s Hammer, or literally, Thor’s Stone – who is a bit aggro with her boss, so I can understand why she dumped him, though they are pretty similar in the bellicosity department. Jennifer, albeit the protagonist, doesn’t really seem to try to ingratiate herself with the audience, but perhaps as the plot thickens, she’ll become less hostile like a good heroine (I’m 20 minutes in at this point); she seems to lead an extraordinarily lonely and mundane life for such an exciting profession. Though, I must add that the fact that she doesn’t follow the expected lead’s stereotypical pattern is a brave step, and I applaud it.

As the death toll rises, it circles around Jennifer until it is bound to be directed at her, much like the Saltsraumen Maelstrom, a strong eddy that whirls around her, dragging her into the fray.

Chris Spinelli

The film has an Italian giallo feel, sort of like Dario Argento’s Bird with the Crystal Plumage (aka L’uccello dale piume di cristallo, 1970), though the whispery voice on the phone, especially for the first kill during the prolog, sounds a bit like the quacky one from Leo Fulci’s The New York Ripper (aka Lo squartatore di New York, 1982).

The acting of the leads, or at least the usual suspects of what I’ll call Hatanaka’s troupe, is rather good. D’Angelo, despite her character’s bristle, does well in the lead role, making her interesting even if not overly likeable, which is a decent balancing act. Spinelli is pretty solid as the detective, easing his way into Jennifer’s life. Ryan plays against type by becoming a nerdy, almost simple-minded photographer who takes candid pictures (snap-snap, grin-grin, wink-wink, say no more) of events and people through their window, obsessing a bit on Jennifer.

With a few of the minor roles, the actors sometimes seem to stumble over their lines. Ah, the joys of indie film making; as usual, you get a mixed bag. It is part of the fun of watching these kinds of films, actually. You want perfection? Go watch an A-List overdone production, not one with a heart, like this one. But I kinda digress…

For an indie, low-budget film, this is certainly well populated with characters, which is noteworthy. And with all these people floating in and out of the story, thirty minutes in, I had it down to three suspects. Though despite the gruesome murders, like most giallos, this is essentially a crime drama about the Chinese mob and, well, I won’t go into it and give it away.

Share Ryan

The kills never come as a surprise. They are always telegraphed by POV shots and, well, the plotlines. Despite the blood, there is nothing actually gory and this relies more on the story and the fact that people are murdered to further the action, rather than just relying on SFX splatter, like Argento and Fulci did in the 1980s. Also, again, there’s that budget.

At 40 minutes, I was back down to one suspect, the first one I picked. I won’t give away who it is nor who it isn’t, as I’m not that kind of reviewer, but I will say I was right. The location of one of the murders was the giveaway for me. But that’s okay, and honestly, that’s part of why I like these kinds of films, trying to figure it out along with the protagonist.

If there is one real fault I would pick, it would be that the soundtrack is sometimes turned up too high, which at times makes it hard to hear the dialogue, such as in the final reveal. I had to watch the ending a couple of times to make out what was being said over the plunking piano and high-pitched screech on the music track. I wish I could have had some subtitles.

The story is both simple and complex at the same time, which is part of what works. It’s simple in that it goes in pretty much a straight line, and doesn’t get bogged down in complexity, even as the viewer wonders why something is happening (that will be eventually explained). The complex part is the myriad of characters, including some mandatory red herrings, that get thrown at us to help try to throw us off the track.

Is it a good film? Yes, and an enjoyable way to spend some time if you appreciate this genre. It’s a noble homage to the Italian crime giallo cinema of the 1980s, and it works in style (love the stop frames) and formula. Does it match the likes of Fulci and Argento? Well, my answer to that is, does anyone? As a fan of giallo, I kept finding myself unconsciously nodding when Hatanaka hits the right note, which was often.

Review: Choke

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2020

Images from the Internet

Choke

Directed by Gregory Hatanaka

CineRidge Entertainment; Cinema Epoch

73 minutes, 2020

https://cinemaepoch.com/

Choking is a fetish I have never understood, but like many other fetishes in films like Fetish Dolls Die Laughing (2012) that cover tickling, bondage, and other sexual sports, they have been creeping into an ever more common sub-genre in the indie scene. Just ask David Carradine (what, too soon?).

Most fetish-related films, if they aren’t comedies, are finger-on-the-side-of-nose to those who enjoy the topic, but Choke takes itself very seriously while drowning in artiness. The art is another fetish – albeit a more stylistic one – that sometimes disguises itself in the ends justifying the means. In other words, while it’s trying to be special, sometimes it can – err – choke on its own petard (yes, I’m mixing metaphors, to be artistic, of course).

Shane Ryan

Brandon (Shane Ryan, who directed 2012’s My Name is ‘A’ By Anonymous, reviewed HERE)  is a possible serial killer who disposes of his (female only) victims by, well, you know. Or does he? Is it real, or is he another Patrick Bateman (American Psycho)?

The film follows his relationship with Jeanie (Sarah Brine; back in the day, this role may have been played by Lauren Ambrose), a 17 year old he meets on a train; jailbait, anyone? Their relationship is interspersed with scenes of his partaking of his life in general (such as visits with his ailing mom) and his hobby. Which parts are real and which are in his imagination are the questions of the day. Perhaps he’s fixating on a past victim, Payton, and creating this fantasy life with her?

Meanwhile, policeman Robert (British actor Scott Butler), who is down and out with both his girlfriend (Bella Cruz) and a prostitute (Jennifer Field), is also having a sado-sexual relationship with his psychologist, Stephanie (scream queen Lisa London), in which he is the M response to her S. But he’s just been given a case of someone found strangled. Wanna guess? The story flips back and forth between the lives of these two twisted men, Brandon and Robert, each significantly damaged in their own way.

Sarah Brine

The set up – and as far as I will go plot-wise – takes almost half the film. At this point it leaves so many questions, just the start of which is who’s lives are real, or just a figment. Is this like the short story “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” (1890; clips of the 1959 television presentation based on this is interspersed throughout) and all in the mind of a person in the moment before they die of asphyxiation? These are just some of the ponderances that were ricocheting through my mind by the halfway mark. But no, I won’t answer any of them; no spoilers.

Scott Butler

One might call this a psychological thriller, and I would be okay with that (as if I had a say), but it really feels like it is trying too hard to make no point. It’s certainly beautiful to look at, but the structure needs a better foundation. For example, there is too much dialog that doesn’t really progress the story by being too vague, or it just seems to go on way too long, such as a motivational speech by a New Age-y snake oil salesman (Sal Landi), who promotes self-choking.

Though the film is relatively short, it feels too padded by throwing montages left and right, as people wander over music (good soundtrack, mostly, though). I’m sure they were trying to show developing relationships, but the point was made, and then made, and then made, all the while the emphasis was on style and the story seems to have been lost in the shuffle toward making “art.”

Lisa London

I appreciate “art” in a film, but not if it takes away from the narrative. That is where the biggest fault lies in the release, in my opinion, that there is not enough story and motivations given to the viewer – even with all the narration, including by characters and over the soundtrack like thought bubbles – to support the foundations on which the zeitgeist and synergy is built. If you’re going to use a loose form, say, like Slaughterhouse Five, it needs to be built on something to stand on, not just float over. I’m not sure I’m making sense. The end results in something that looks good, but its aspirations are lost in its pretentions.

The film isn’t a failure, though if one is looking for a good fetish film or murder spree (both of which are present), it’s like looking through a fog. I see this film as an exercise by the director, to test his stylistic wings in the cinema art. He has been quite prolific, but in this case, I mean, working out some kinks.

Meanwhile, now I have the desire to listen to Detroit-based punk band, Choking Susan.