Review: Prince of the Crimson Void

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2022
Images from the Internet, unless indicated

Prince of the Crimson Void
Directed by Dakota Ray
R.A. Productions
58 minutes, 2022
https://dakotarayfilmmaker.wordpress.com/

In his ninth film (I think I have reviewed all of them), Denver's auteur filmmaker / writer / absinthe guzzler Dakota Ray happily strikes again with his newest opus. And, as always, he and his instantly recognizably idiosyncratic, gravelly deep voice and a monochrome filter (this time red) presents another tale of depravity.

As usual, Ray plays the lead character, in this case Fabian, who is a serial killer, drug user, and absinthe drinker (the film uses real absinthe, since Ray is a connoisseur of the beverage). His world is full of death and delusion, of evil and self-glorification.

As in Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986), Fabian has a companion-and-competitor in the form of Kimball (Darien Fawkes). But as in Henry, do not trust a serial killer. In the opening narration monologue, Fabian states he plans to kill Kimball (aka the Necro Wizard), who is as murderous as he, and absorb not only Kimball’s soul but the souls of all his victims. So, this story is going into the supernatural deeper than Ray’s previous films. In many of the earlier ones, Satan has played a role in either influence or presence, but this delves deeper into the metaphysics.

Dakota Ray

Fabian and Kimball are the only two living humans in the film (though there are plenty of corpses in various conditions), and nearly all their dialogue is done in the form of narration. Written by Ray, these inner conversations run from the vile and expletive, to the nearly philosophical…and expletive. There are, as is typical in Ray’s releases, title cards scattered throughout to denote chapters of a sort, with names like “Descending into the Blackened Catacombs of the Necro Wizard.”

There are also lots of shots of close-ups, be it faces, eyes, or mouths, especially as they imbibe in their vices. We also see lots of full moons and clouds, and thunderstorms to represent the mood of the moment. It has nearly a gothic feel to it, especially considering the mood.

After Kimball’s demise, when Fabian delves deeper into the world of Absinthe, oxycodone, and white powder, he feels the power of Kimball inside of him, making him believe he is “god.” This film, as with many of Ray’s, has a central character that has visions of self-grandiosity, and it is this that actually makes him weaker (“need”) and more unhinged. Think about those people who took LSD and thought they could fly, as their last acts. Psychologically, that is where Fabian resides, especially post-Kimball.

Darien Fawkes

But like “The Tell-Tale Heart” (1843) by Edgar Allen Poe, Kimbell’s spirit is haunting Fabian; whether it is real or in his imagination is up for grabs, but considering the number of substances (and lack of food) that are absorbed – to the point of nosebleeds – it can easily go either way.

The SFX – all practical as far as I can tell – look excellent. They were done by Ray and S. Donatello, and it is one of the highlights of an already interesting film. That it is just under an hour is actually perfect, rather than trying to bloat it out with filler, and besides, it was filmed during June through October 2022, which means Covid was still a factor, so the small cast makes sense.

I like that there is a narrative line to the story (some of the early works are a bit sketchy in this area), which is the backbone, but not the appendages, which are all the add-ons, such as the sky shots, the asides (e.g., a body in a basement), and the overwhelming, pure atmospheric mood. If you want to get a taste of Ray’s releases, some of them are available on YouTube, but I must say Ray keeps improving over time, so this latest release is one of his better, for those reasons alone.

IMBD listing HERE

Review: The Razing

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2022
Images from the Internet

The Razing
Directed by J. Arcane and Paul Erskine
Pacific Future Films
109 minutes, 2022

When I get together with a bunch of friends that I haven’t seen in a long time, even if we didn’t necessarily leave on the best of terms, it almost always turns into a night of joy, and maybe a titch of resentment here and there, but we tend to work it out, even if we agree never to talk again. But in the cinematic world, that only works out in the Hallmark type films, and usually involves either Thanksgiving or especially Christmas, but never in genre films. And this belongs to the latter. It’s in the title, which means “the complete tearing down.” Heck, the film’s tag line is ”burn, baby, burn.” Before I even start, the description reminds me a bit of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966).

For Cory’s birthday dinner, there are four old friends plus the guest of one of them, so two women and four men. There is animosity and tension present right from the start; no waiting around, no pretending, the story just dives right in and takes the viewer with them.

I love it when a title can be taken in different contexts. The obvious one is that these people don’t like each other, and are willing to verbally tear each other down. Jealousy, lust, and power all factor into not only the old “friends,” but even the new arrivals. But this group is sort of like Prospero in Edgar Allen Poe’s short story, “The Masque of the Red Death,” as there is something possibly evil happening beyond the walls, that is making people violent, such as in the likes of The Crazies (1973; 2010). But this can also be seen as a metaphor for other pandemics (COVID, anyone?), with some at the table not even believing it’s a real thing as people are murdering others beyond the viewer’s scope of the film. In fact, except for one scene, the entire film takes place in the spacious apartment.

The main characters are an unlikeable crew in their thirties who have carried around their overstuffed baggage since they were college age. The main troupe is bearded and bespecled Cory (Jack Wooten), who is as verbally abusive as his wealthy father (Kent Allen); his spouse is Ellen (Laura Sampson Hemingway), who everyone seems to desire; then there is Ray (Logan Paul Prince), who looks a bit like a jock and has the hots for Ellen (or “El”, as she’s often called), even though he brought along a guest in the form of Claire (Mia Heavner); then there’s Lincoln (Nicholas Tene), who, as a child, was raised by a then college student and then badly drunk “mom” (Kim Allison Hèbert). Lincoln’s friend when he was younger, Josh (Jay Torres), did not fare well with this group; hopefully, Claire will do better.

What both holds the collective together and tears them apart is a combination of drugs in the form of pills, and an event that we see in great detail in the past when they were young, told in extensive flashbacks in the same apartment.

The question the film leaves the viewer with is: what is truth. How many of the events depicted are “real” and how many are hallucinations by the many, many, pills of various colors that are ingested in the 109 minutes of the film? Are the supernatural elements real, or are they mind games played by chemical infusions?

In many ways this can be considered an art film, or even fall under the Transgressive Cinema label. Angles are off-putting, with a tendency to extreme close-ups (not always in focus), pointed at an upward angle, or hand-held and swirling a bit. Visually, the screen often looks dark, like it’s in power-saver mode and with a yellowish filter, with occasional effective use of split screens, and the vocals appear to be flat and dubbed in; there is no depth so everyone seems to be at the same distance even if they are at the opposite sides of the room. Even the orchestral soundtrack, written by co-director J. Arcane, is moody, spiky and dissonant, which actually works well for the piece, though it’s a bit more upfront than needs to be, so it occasionally is distracting to the talking, and dialogue is key in this film.

Being filmed during the time of COVID, it is interesting to see how everything on-screen is designed and the large apartment space is used in the shots, with fish-lenses used to disrupt the visual space and keeping people looking closer than they actually are. That is not to say there isn’t any touching, because there is, but it’s minimal, albeit intense.

Along with the visuals, philosophically the film delves into society, class relations, and the possibility of redemption, as well as a bit of insanity. When does one’s life become too much? At nearly two hours, it feels a bit long, honestly, and it tries hard to be meaningful. Perhaps a second viewing at some point will bring home some of the points I may have missed. It’s a very lulling film that is certainly consistent with its own “feel,” sound, and intensity.

This is the first release for Pacific Future Films, and it’s a good freshman step in the right direction. I’m really curious to see where they go from here.

IMBD Listing HERE 

Vimeo trailer HERE 

Review: Dante’s Shadow of Sin

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2021
Images from the Internet

Dante’s Shadow of Sin
Directed by Dakota Ray
R.A. Productions
75 minutes, 2021
https://dakotarayfilmmaker.wordpress.com/
www.facebook.com/Dantes-Shadow-of-Sin-A-Film-By-Dakota-Ray-113284927789069

And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you’re going to fall…
When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead
“White Rabbit,” Jefferson Airplane

I ask you: in the time of Covid, what’s a man supposed to do? Easy, just down a glass of absinthe, get a new and sharper lens for your camera, and direct your eighth film of nihilistic behavior, as has done Denver-based director/writer/cinematographer/editor Dakota Ray.

Usually I would hold off on this kind of comment until near the end of a review, but let me point out right from the start that even with Ray’s characteristic use of monochrome-colored filters, in this case one that is a rich, dark blue hue, the new lens really is incredible at showing details, which can only help spotlight the sheer insanity; the film highlights this clarity as you can practically count every hair on a close-up of a severed head.

As is his wont and right, the title character is played by the director and his insanely deep voice, who in the first line, explains the nihilism that clouds his very soul: “My name is Dante, and I serve no man but myself.” He is remorseless, unhinged from reality, and a complete narcissist (perhaps he can become president like the last joker!). We meet him staring at himself in a mirror. Yeah, this guy is not someone you are going to want to mess with in any circumstances.

Filmed in Ray’s house, in part, it was fun seeing the VHS stack with the likes of The Thing, An American Werewolf in London, and I believe Dark Shadows. There is a lot of fine editing by Ray, which improves with every film, between characters, objects (many look like they were bought at a Halloween store, and rightfully so), Satanic symbols, and insects in various states of health. These, their use as subliminal commentary on the action, all become characters in their own right in a way, rather than just be filler (more on that later). The soundtrack during the credits is emblazoned with “blackened doom” (the band’s wording) metal by the Italian trio Naga.

Two years after committing a horrific murder, Dante is contacted by an acquaintance, Mahoganny (gravel-voiced Fred Epstein, a heavy-emoting Ray regular) who has inherited the Boleskin House (referencing the Boleskine House in Scotland, owned by renowned Satanist Aleister Crowley and Jimmy Page, the once great guitarist of the Yardbirds and Led Zeppelin). Mahoganny suggests they get together and go to the house. My question to Mahoganny is, “do you know where you’re going to, do you like the things that life is showin’ you?” (sorry…). In this case, the name Mahoganny is more symbolic for the hardness and darkness of his heart rather than skin color.

After picking up Mahoganny, whose beard and hair is long in classic (and ironic) Jeebus mode, they both head to the house to debauch. How debauched? Let’s just say I had to turn my head when Mahoganny dipped a slice of pizza into salad dressing (I am assuming Ranch). What’s next? Pineapple!?! Also, I wonder about a focused bit without explanation of Dante taking an antacid pill of Calcium Carbonate (designated by the serial number G171); perhaps it is in reference to Mohaganny’s fixation on laxatives? But I digress…

Throughout the film, we hear the thoughts of the two central characters more than words are spoken, which makes sense since so much of the planning of these two are secretive, so we become cognizant of just what the hell is going on. We also hear the drug-induced disembodied voices of objects such as dolls, a white rabbit and a goat head who represent the Satanic elements. Two other mute players are Mahoganny’s senile and silent 92-year-old grandmother (Maddison M.), and his bound and gagged, drug induced “slave” (Sholeh Behesht) in the bathtub. This also makes me wonder about using the name “Mahoganny” as a slaver…

Dante, though not redeemable, kills for a purpose, even if it is self-gratification. With Mahoganny, however, slow and painful control and sadism is more his speed. These two both know that the time in the vacation house will not end well, and each has a motive to be the only one out, but the build-up to the confrontation is a large part of what is going on through the story, listening to their thoughts about destruction in different forms, but with the same end result.

Although there are four characters in this, truth be told it is a two-person story, loco mano e mas loco mano. With hexes, drugs, alcohol and just sheer deviance of a multitude of natures, these guys have a deep hatred that Ray manages to convey quite strongly. Where did they go wrong as friends or acquaintances? Immaterial, because at this time, it a steadily intensifying to-the-death duel, both mentally and physically. The lightening in the sky is a foretelling of the bad actions to come.

It is also interesting to me that both of these dudes are into Satanism and curses, but they are individuals, not part of a Satanic cult, which is where it seems most films dealing with this topic tend to lay down. Again, while the leads are both similar in their desires for death and destruction, they are very distinct in their personalities and the means to achieve their comparable end-goals. Though, honestly, I am not sure how they manage to get their goals accomplished with the sheer amount of imbibing – including mushrooms – that gets consumed. Mind you, I’m a straight-edged punk rock nerd, so it is a different world than where I come from.

The film is broken into a number of chapters via long title cards, such as “Dante’s Switchblade Romance: Caressing her ghost and other demons from the past.” This is also common among Ray’s films. However, story-wise, this is the most cohesive of the eight, being rather threadbare in its plot. Rather than mixing a number of different stories into one, here he focuses on the two main characters, and yes, you could say that it still two tales into one, but its focus is more exact, with less opaque moments.

As much as I have enjoyed all of Ray’s releases, I think this one could be a turning point as far as a pathway. As much as I like the past ones, I look forward to the swing in this direction.

 

Review: The Long Way Back

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2021
Images from the Internet

The Long Way Back (aka Pacing the Cage)
Directed by EB Hughes
EBFilms; Breaking Glass Pictures
72 minutes, 2020
https://www.facebook.com/The-Long-Way-Back-552584021456390/

The opening shot is not only beautiful in a harsh way, but sets up the mood right from the start. We see a close-up of barbed wire on a wall, with a clear blue sky, the sound of the wind howling and the soundtrack piano plinking.

Denny Dale Bess

We are at first silently introduced to the protagonist of the story, Max (Denny Dale Bess) as he gets out a prison just west of Atlantic City after six months, and heads back to his old haunts in Alphabet City, on the Lower East Side (LES) of Manhattan. I remember once driving around there with a member of the Dead Boys and his new band, in the early 1980s, and he made me stop and jumped out so he could cop (I found that out later). That’s the kind of neighborhood we are talking about. Max is a seriously flawed human: an addict who is still using, but he claims he is trying to straighten up as he moves into a fleabag hotel. There he meets a neighbor on his way in, Sara (Reyna Kahan).

Mark Borkowski, Ron Rey

Max wants to “move forward,” but there are things holding him back, such as his addiction, and the fact that he ripped off his supplier, “Uptown” Lucius (award-winning playwright Mark Borkowski, giving off a Harvey Keitel vibe) for 20 grand just before he went to jail. So, you can see it is like that iconic line from The Godfather: Part III (1990), when Pacino laments, “Just when I thought I was out, they pullme back in!” Violent and controlling, Lucius has sent out his right-hand man, Johnnie (Ron Rey) to “fetch” Max to settle the score.

The main thread is following Max and Lucius as they spin around each other, with the connection being Johnnie. As the film goes on, the revolving gets tighter and tighter, until they start to collide, as one would expect.

Reyna Kahan

However, expectation here is wisely kept so the viewer (i.e., me) has one anticipates where the film is going, and then, where it actually does follow. Meanwhile, Max keeps trying to improve, and Lucius continues down into the spiral. Also following these men are their relationships, which reflect their current positions. It is all very engaging, watching this cat and mouse game and how it affects those around it.

New York City is practically one of the characters in the story, sometimes appearing beautiful, others leaning more towards how it looked and felt in Taxi Driver (1976). I marveled at how beautiful and ugly the city can be, having moods just like a person. There are some keynote locations used, such as the Landmark Tavern, deep in Hell’s Kitchen. While I have never been inside, I have passed it many a time.

In the neither-here-nor-there rhetorical question department, why is it that nearly any movie that shows someone walking “uptown” (e.g., Upper East – or West – Side), at some point they will be walking under some building scaffolding? Also, in the Special Thanks section of the credits, it is nice to see my old Jersey-based fanzine publisher/editor/writer acquaintance Chip Lamey listed. But I digress…

It is easy to tell the director was heavily influenced by the early, gritty works of Martin Scorsese, such as Mean Streets (1973); there is also a hint of the up-close-and-personal unflinching of Abel Ferrara’s The Bad Lieutenant (1992). Like those, this film is more character based than anything else, with subtle violence and reactions that get under the skin.

Sayra Player, Rey

There are a few interesting secondary characters, such as the manager of the hotel and Max’s friend, Ziggy (Don Striano) and especially Lucius’s tweaking coke-head girlfriend, Mona (excellently portrayed by Sayra Player). She had a stand-out scene with Johnnie that, to me, is an anchor example of good acting and writing in the film. That is not to say the rest of the cast is slacking in any kind of way. Everyone does a bang-up job, which is a rarity in independent, low-budget cinema. If this was released in the ‘80s, it could have easily had played at either art house or mainstream cinemas.

Cinematographer William J. Murray is worth noting, as well. This is especially true in the lighting, such as in Lucius’s apartment, a beautiful mix of shadows and light.

This crime drama is understated in what one might expect, and I liked it even more for that. Rather than an overladen, too long ego-trip, it is short, succinct, and gets the job done. Like I said, it’s more based on the personality of the characters than anything else, which is quite refreshing.

Review: Beyond Hell

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

Beyond Hell
Directed by Alan Murray
Dark Spirit Films / Indican Pictures
89 minutes, 2019 / 2020
www.beyondhellfilm.com/
www.facebook.com/beyondhellfilm

“Just say no!” was Nancy Reagan’s rallying cry in the 1980s, but films where taking any drugs leads to mayhem, be it insanity, murder or turning the user into a zombie is hardly new. For example, there were a string of anti-marijuana releases in the 1930s and ‘40s (e.g., She Shoulda Said No [1949], The Devil’s Weed [1949], and the infamous Reefer Madness [1936]). That theme still runs occasionally with the likes of Dropping Evil (2008) and Bong of the Dead (2012).

This Canadian film takes that trope and makes some sinister changes: this derivation of the drug, changa (apparently a real thing; being straight-edged, I had to look it up on Wikipedia), takes the user to literal hell. But I am getting way ahead of myself here.

We open up for the prologue in the jungles of South America where apparently indigenous native people speak perfect English and talk like professional wrestling announcers (wait…what?). It is here that this film’s version of changa originates (though in reality it is generally considered to have come from Australia… thank you Wikipedia).

Kearsten Johansson

The main protagonist, Maryssa (cute, doe-eyed Kearsten Johansson) was the good girl all through high school. Now she’s in college and wants to learn about some… tacit knowledge (life experience). Her two friends (from high school, now also in college) are the bad girl, Brooke (Natalie Jane), and Heather (Dominque Smith), who is the go-between since Maryssa and Brooke are frenemies. One could picture Heather with the good angel – Maryssa – on one shoulder and the devil – Brooke – on the other.

On the testosterone side, there are buddies Tyson (Chris Kapeleris), who is Heather’s boyfriend, and Jake (the heavily inked Sebastian Deery). Jake is the object of Brooke’s lust, but he’s into Maryssa (sort of a Ginger and Mary Ann choice). The five head off to a party, stopping off at Seth’s (Sean Rey), a dealer’s abode, to pick up said changa. While there, they try out this new drug and get shitfaced, but Maryssa alone somehow manages to get transported to another dimension (supposedly hell, I am assuming from the film’s title), where she is linked to the multi-toothed demon Belial (Gavin R. Downes) who looks like a creature out of the cult film Equinox (1970). Then the slaughter begins, slowly but surely.

Sebastian Deery

Belial starts to kill off her friends, and because she is connected to him, she can witness all the murders though she’s not physically there. The demon’s goal is the trope that if he can gather enough souls, he can enter our world at will and bring his bad demon buddies with him, to enslave and torture humanity.

The film isn’t brilliant, but then again, it is also a lot of fun. The cheese level is high, as is the blood and gore (sometimes looking good, other times cheesy). This is solid independent fare that is both cliché at times, and yet smart in that it takes some old tropes and mixes them around a bit. Again, while it has been done before, part of the fun is watching Maryssa turn from shy, sheltered girl to warrior woman to try and fight the malevolent power.

This comment has nothing to do with nothing, really, but who throws up in the toilet without lifting the seat, no matter how out of it one is, even if one misses the toilet completely? Just sayin’.

Natalie Jane

This is the director’s first feature film, other than a short, and it shows great promise. There are definitely things one can point to, such as Belial’s make-up moving every time he talks, which is hard to make out at times thanks to the effects given to his voice to make it sound “demonic.” While it’s not a comedy, there are a few moments where one cannot help but chortle at the way certain lines are spoken, or on-screen actions. But despite that, overall, it was better than I expected (and I always hope for the best), and it certainly kept my interest (and not just for the numerous topless women).

The scenes in hell are visually a bit on the dark side, but this viewer was able to make out what was happening. The end result of the storyline is a bit convoluted, but it’s still pretty satisfying, and tying it in to what is happening in the world today is a nice, intriguing twist. It also might have been good, however, to explain a bit about the Mexican god Quetzalcoatl (I have been to its temple at Teotihuacan near Mexico City), who is actually a feathered serpent, though featured in human forms here.

There was also a nice mix of both practical SFX and digital effects. And speaking of Belial’s make-up, it actually looks pretty decent for its budget. In fact, most of the creatures/demons look good. The acting varies, as one would expect, but everyone seems to be on board, which is a good thing.

One aspect I really enjoyed in the film was the Interesting transition b-roll shots between scenes, usually sped up in the style of Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance (1982). It’s bright and colorful, and works well as separation of segues from one set piece to another.

Thanks to its film boards, Canada helps produce a lot of its independent releases, unlike in the United States (anyone from the ridiculous Right want to scream socialism?), so the industry is supported, whether the film is top notch, really bad (remember The Room?), or in this case, an enjoyable exercise in a genre that is always in demand. I’m grateful to the Toronto Film Industry Arts and Entertainment Foundation, and I’m hoping this is just a stepping stone for Alan Murray to send us more fare. This release certainly lends itself to a sequel, and I look forward to it.

The film is now available on Digital HD via Apple TV, Google Play, Prime Video, FandagnoNOW, and more, and will be on DVD in mid-January.