Review: Master Pieces

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2020

Images from the Internet

Master Pieces

Directed by Christian Twiste and Geoffrey Ciani

Bayview Entertainment; TMA Releasing

86 minutes, 2020

https://www.masterpiecesthemovie.com/

“Is this the real life / Is this just fantasy” – Bohemian Rhapsody/Queen

As the sun comes around and hangs in the sky longer and later, with flowers blossoming and the birds singing, what could be a better time to review a film based around… Yuletide!

Christian Twiste

This film takes an interesting premise, in that the main character is actually the director (Christian Twiste) playing a somewhat warped version (one would hope) of himself, with Twiste’s real wife (Lisa Gouilan) as his recently-wed reel-spouse.

In the story, Twiste is quite – er – twisted. And exceptionally delusional. He’s seeing and hearing things, indicated quite early on, and is certainly mentally imbalanced with what appears to be a touch of schizophrenia. Being recently married and out of work certainly do not help the situation.

As the film proper (post-prologue) begins, we find Twiste watching his favorite psycho-babble cable radio show, featuring Dr. Brenda Dobbs (Tesia Nicoli). He’s fixated on her, and is both desperate to get to talk to her (shades of 1982’s The King of Comedy), and is somewhat convinced she’s talking directly to him.

The world seems to be trying to vex him at every turn, such as faucets that turn on by themselves, or a mysterious collection agency that sends a video on CD of Twiste in the bath. It’s not hard to figure out pretty early on that, like in American Psycho (2000; Twiste does have a bit of a Christian Bale look to him… or maybe that’s everyone named Christian?) – although here, Twiste is on the opposite end of the social strata from Patrick Bateman – much of this is in his noggin rather than the real world. Twenty minutes in, however, I realized it could also be a gaslighting situation, as well. Don’t worry, I won’t give it away. I would like to note that the bathtub video mimicking his real life is a nice touch.

Lisa Gouilan

As an aside, whoever’s townhouse this was filmed in, man, there are a lot of stairs. I’m just sayin’. And though (the real) Twiste is livin’ in Jersey, he certainly has not lost his Staten Island accent; that really made me smile and happy, missing hearing the area inflection of my youth (though for me it was more Bensonhurst, but I digress…).

As with the original The Terminator (1984), many of the victims are in similar situations as Sarah Connor in that they are doomed because of similar names or looks of a that person on whom Twiste is actually lashing out. This was also an interesting idea.

There are some smart choices that are made, such as the shift between the running taps at night and the transition shot in the kitchen the following day. That is simply fine, and it seems these guys work well putting these almost humorous finger-to-side-of-nose slices together. Having Gouilan seen mostly in shadow, out-of-focus, or partially face-blocked (like the neighbor, Wilson, in the TV show “Home Improvement”) is another subtle and interesting artistic touch that works.

Tesia Nicoli

The film has a (purposeful) very 1980s indie feel to it, with miniscule budget (explained in the next paragraph) with only practical SFX rather than digital; while it is not super bloody, it’s still highly effective. There is a lot more to the story than the murders, and there is a relatively decent body count, but focuses more on twisted Twiste as we follow his actions and thoughts, i.e., he’s in just about every scene, except for those with the police detective (Ryan MacNamara), whose “sidekick,” as it were, is the disembodied voice over the scanner of co-director/co-writer Geoffrey Ciani.

As I said, the acting is quite… over-the-top a lot of the time, especially with Twiste and some of the minor “service people” (aka, the additional body count), but I really liked Twiste’s caricature of himself (at least I hope it is). And despite some plot questions, the story is engaging. There are a few plot turns that I would love to discuss, but won’t because it would be too far into spoiler alert territory. That being said, I do believe some editing to whittle it down a bit could be done, such as the initial tap dripping scene which goes on a little too long and ends up being more distracting than its purpose intends.

Ryan MacNamara

As for the whole Christmas theme, it’s mostly in the off-beat versions of common Christmas Carols on the soundtrack that connect it to the holiday, not directly to the story itself… other than possibly because that time of year can have a negative affect on those with mental health issues. I am grateful that is the full extent, honestly, because, as a non-believer, Xmas-themed films tend not to do much for me. If you took out the carols, it could be any time in the winter without changing any of the story itself.

Apparently, both Twiste and Ciani were recently married (not to each other) and unemployed, and so decided to do this film as a joint project to creatively spend the time. The end result is a film that is bit amateurish, with some continuity and editing issues, and somewhat choppy acting here and there, but I have to admit that, in this case, is part of what I like about the film. It’s not trying to be a superstar mega-monster picture, but a small, heartfelt work to stretch some artistic muscle rather than stagnating. I respect that a lot.

There is at least a couple of subtle shots at Trump and that mindset that made me giggle. A dark humor runs throughout the feature, giving it an umph. Now that we are between “waves” of Covid 19 and many of us are also shuttered and unemployed, maybe that could be an impetus for either a sequel or another totally different film. That would be nice.

And not fer nuthin’, the chef hat cracked me up, every time.

Review: Hank Boyd is Dead

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2016

Images from the Internet

Hank Boyd is Dead

Written and directed by Sean Melia

Bag of Cats Productions / Loree Lewis Motion Picture Company

76 minutes, 2014

www.hankboydisdead.com

www.facebook.com/hankboydisdead

I have know quite a few “bubbling under” actors in my life. While the cliché is that struggling artists are wait staff in diners and restaurants while they anticipate their big break – and this is somewhat true – but what I have found to be closer to accurate is that there is more of a tendency to work for catering companies, both private and corporate. Some have even gone on to more success running these outfits than acting careers. And that, in part, is the premise of this film. But more on that in a couple of paragraphs.

Major films tend to go for the “easy kill,” as it were, with simple premises that have been proven to satisfy, such as masked killers and the like, repeated over and over. They’ll take a premise from an unexpectedly successful indie film, for example Friday the 13th (1980), or Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), and then decimate the story into the ground by a matter of redux (A Nightmare on Elm Street No. 25: Freddy’s got COPD; coming soon, probably, to a theater near you). If they don’t do an umpteenth sequel, then it’s either a prequel or a “reboot” to start the series from scratch.

Indies, however, freed from the burden of corporate sponsors, tend to take chances, hence most of why the franchises started out as independent releases. Even with old tried-and-true ideas, they look at things in different ways, such as with this film.

Stephanie E. Frame as Sarah

In this story with comedic overtones, the action actually starts post-murders, and the death of the killer, the titular Hank. He has been found hanged in his jail cell after being arrested for several murders. It’s at that point we meet our protagonist, Sarah (Stefanie E. Frame), an struggling actor who is on her first day of work as a caterer. After years of taking care of her ill dad, she arrives at Hank’s family home to work. Only then is when she learns not only whose house it is, but that she actually went to high school with Hank a decade earlier. Small towns are small towns, even in New Jersey.

As much as Sarah is the central character, it’s the Boyd family (and acquaintances) that are the real scene grabbers, as each is looney in their own way, much in the direction of that old stalwart, Arsenic and Old Lace (1944; if you haven’t seen it, you are missing one of the great horror comedies) or Spider Baby (1967). Mama Boyd is well on her way to dementia, but enough is left to leave some fear in the viewer and an understanding of the family history and dynamics. Carole Monferdini does a stellar jobs shifting from one mode to another, like a light switch, and keeping her character genuine.

Her kids are also deranged, such as the youngest, pretty, wide-eyed and not bright Aubrey (Liv Rooth); her eldest brother is sociopathic (look at those intense and finely manicured eyebrows!) cop David (David C. Wells). We don’t get to meet the middle kids, one a sister who has already died mysteriously, and the titular Henry (ironically named after 1986’s Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer, perhaps?), aka Hank. The other main character is Ray (Michael Rogan), who is David’s sexual degenerative PO partner.

Papa Boyd is also long dead, but the apples don’t fall far (etc.), and in fact, each generation seems to – er – degenerate, or de-evolve. Are we not men? We are Boyds. As more than one member of the clan is known to say, which in olden days would be put on a shield in Latin, “It’s what my family does” (Quid mihi est familia, FYI). This is especially true as the film continually gears up, eventually going past the tipping point and into ever deeper violence.

All of the acting here is stellar, and not just for an indie, mini-budget production. The reason is that the cast is part of the theater scene in New York (though filmed in Edison, NJ). Pooling the talent of a troupe that has practice working and thinking on their feet, ready to meet the story head on, works well for this production.

There is no nudity, and the blood is kept to a “reasonable” amount, but holding back actually works for the film because it doesn’t become a distraction. Rather, it is more effective due to its use when necessary, rather than “look how many gallons I can use!”

Most of the filmmaking is pretty straightforward, which is a compliment these days. There’s a story and they stick to it. That’s not to say it’s not creative, though. Throughout the film, there are clips from old 8mm family footage and “educational” ones. While some appear random, others mirror what is happening at that moment on a more abstractive level. Other are thrown in so fast and seemingly subliminal, that it’s startling.

I have no problem calling this a black comedy, but it delves into a deeper, more murder thriller than horror. Perhaps noir comedy? Obsidian comedy? One of the problems I have with many horror comedies is that they are rarely story-driven as much as goofy, such as Scary Movie (2000; the first one was smart, the rest, well, not so much), A Haunted House (2013) and any one of a dozen other spoofers like Vampires Suck (2010). When the mix is both comedy and horror or dread that follows a decent plot, that’s what gets my attention more than cramming in as many references as one can because that’s what passes as cool to these hackneyed filmmakers (I’m talkin’ to you, Wayan Bros). Fortunately, this one falls into the comedy/dread category rather than spoof humdrum.

As I said, the film never lets up, but does not weary the viewer with undo tropes. For example, there are no long shots of someone walking down a corridor while we wait for something to eventually leap out at them for a jump scare. What we are presented with, instead, is a taut dynamic that doesn’t pander, and doesn’t let go, right to the end. Plus there are some really unexpected moments. Considering this is the director’s first full length feature, that’s quite impressive.