Movie Review – Horse Girl

Being trapped in quarantine means being trapped inside your own head for a lot of people, so what better way to stimulate the mind than a film about a psychological breakdown? No, Alison Brie does not neigh.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Corey Hogan

Shy and introverted Sarah (Alison Brie) lives an unglamorous life, spending her days working at a craft store and her evenings alone watching reruns of her favourite cop show. Her peculiarities begin to frustrate those around her – particularly the stable owners of a horse that was once hers (who she continues to visit), and her roommate Nikki (Debby Ryan), who sets Sarah up with her boyfriend’s roommate in an attempt to get her out of the house. But Sarah’s issues boil much deeper below the surface, and as her weird ticks turn into sleepwalking, losing time and seeing people from her dreams, she begins to succumb to paranoia and slowly lose her mind.

If you’ve only ever witnessed Alison Brie as Community’s compulsive, naïve over-achiever Annie Edison, or in her myriad of supporting romantic comedy roles, her anxiety-addled turn in Netflix’s Horse Girl is likely to rattle you at least a little. Directed by Jeff Baena (Life After Beth, The Little Hours) and co-written by Brie and Baena, it’s a brave and mature departure from the bubbly, fluffy characters that have become her repertoire, as well as her grittier work on Mad Men and Glow.

Flawed though her first screenplay may be, it’s certainly ambitious in how it tackles untreated schizophrenia. Initially sympathetically nice, but weird enough to be someone you’d keep at arm’s reach, Brie owns and eats up her loner Sarah. She’s the kind of socially awkward girl you feel sorry for, yet there’s always something slightly unnerving behind her doe-eyed stare.

Descents into madness have been done many a time before, but Brie keeps the anxiety high as she slowly unravels unpredictably, from little oddities like sleepwalking and glaring at the wall in the middle of the night, to full-on meltdowns raving about alien abduction and taking her date to a cemetery to dig up her mother. It’s startling and occasionally shocking stuff, and Brie fully commits to it.

Unlike her performance though, she can’t fully commit to her psychological subject. After an interestingly uncertain first half, Horse Girl twists and makes a tonal shift into the surreal that only confuses things and fails to delve deeper into its heavy topic. You could argue this is an artistic decision to put the viewer into the subject’s fractured mindset, but it only serves to frustrate with a lack of answers to any of the intriguing conspiracies it sets up.

Brie paints an earnest and at times somewhat stimulating portrait of a terrible mental condition, but in tackling such a ripe subject, it winds up being scattered and can’t help but feel lacking.

Horse Girl is available on Netflix in Australia

Image courtesy of Netflix Inc Australia

Movie Review – Unsane

Amateurish in design and cheesy in execution; Unsane is far from Steven Soderbergh’s finest.

⭐ ⭐ ½
Zachary Cruz-Tan

Unsane has all the ingredients of a proper thriller. It is directed by Steven Soderbergh, whose movies have been very popular and successful. It stars Claire Foy, who is undeniably masterful in it. It’s carefully put together. Yet somehow it ends up resembling a middling student project. I can’t say it’s because the entire film was shot on an iPhone 7 (the cinematography lends it a certain immediacy). No, I think it’s because it’s miserably confused, and uses cheap tactics for maximum effect.

The plot, devised by Jonathan Bernstein and James Greer, is strange in that it aspires to uncover how insurance scams are in partnership with corrupt mental health facilities, while also striving to be a gruesome psychological thriller in which a perceived stalker may or may not be an actual stalker. The stalker story works, more or less. So does the horrid truth that agencies claiming to treat the mentally wounded might in fact be scamming them. The problem is the two stories don’t work together, which makes their credibility awfully suspect.

Foy plays Sawyer Valentini, an office worker who’s convinced her stalker has followed her from Boston. She consults a shrink and in a flash she’s confined to a hospital bed for seven days. But wait, could that strange orderly who gazes uncomfortably at her actually be the man she’s been running away from? How could he have found her?

I wouldn’t dream of telling you if the orderly is indeed her stalker, even though knowing isn’t that big of a deal. Much of the mental hospital portion plays like a tribute to One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975), but without the rigid domineering figure of a Nurse Ratched to really amp up the suspense. It is a world designed to remove power from those deemed too unstable to control it themselves.

Soderbergh, whose great films include Sex, Lies and Videotape (1989) and Side Effects (2013), seems to have approached Unsane as an experiment he never really prepares for. He has at his feet two genuine issues to tackle; a movie about either one could have been something magical. Instead, people start dying, chases abound and all nuance is flung out the window. At least he has Claire Foy, who supports Unsane with the strength of a legion and very nearly makes it work. Observe a late scene set in solitary confinement. Brilliant stuff.

Unsane is available in Australian cinemas from April 26 

Image courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox

Movie Review – Jigsaw

Despite dying all the way back in Saw III, Jigsaw is back for an eighth twisted and gruesome game after a lengthy absence.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Corey Hogan

More than a decade has passed since John Kramer, a.k.a. the Jigsaw Killer (Tobin Bell) – the man notorious for kidnapping people and putting them in traps that force them to mutilate themselves to escape death as a means of creating a newfound appreciation for life – and his circle of successors all met grisly ends. The violence has ceased, until now; as police shoot down a petty thug, a triggering mechanism is activated and sets in motion a new game played by five people trapped in a remote barn filled with diabolically lethal things at every turn. Mangled bodies start turning up, and as the investigative team, including Detective Halloran (Callum Keith Rennie) and forensic doctors Logan Nelson (Matt Passmore) and Eleanor Bonneville (Hannah Emily Anderson) dig deeper, all the evidence points to the late Jigsaw as the perpetrator.

It wasn’t too much of a stretch to predict that 2010’s Saw 3D was never going to be The Final Chapter as it claimed; nothing in Hollywood, especially in the horror genre (and especially one of the horror genre’s highest-grossing franchises) ever stays dead anymore, so by that logic Jigsaw was always inevitable. The good news is that its source is one of the genre’s most inventive, if not for the faint of heart series, and despite it having narratively driven itself into a dead end, this belated eighth entry manages to breathe a bit of new life into its corpse, doing its many fans justice and pulling off a few neat tricks of its own.

Taking the reins from its Australian creators James Wan and Leigh Whannell (who remain as producers) is, appropriately, another Aussie horror filmmaking duo, The Spierig Brothers (Daybreakers, Predestination). Their biggest adjustment to proceedings is the visual style – gone is the grainy, low-grade camerawork, grungy bathrooms and rust as far as the eye can see, updated with slick cinematography and, for the first time, shiny and new-looking killing instruments. The Spierigs are aware that audience expectations have changed since Saw last soaked our screens in blood, and so the story deviates from the usual formula too; we follow the police investigation equally as much as the victims of the latest game, veering slightly away from the torture-porn trappings that later entries became and closer to the psychological thrills of the first film.

Which is not to say that Jigsaw isn’t gory; there are new traps here that rank up there with the series’ stomach-churning best, from the body-shredding spiral blade contraption to the flesh-cutting laser collars – fans can rest easy with the amount of blood and guts spilled. Pleasingly, after being sidelined for so long, the iconic Jigsaw himself takes centre stage once again, with the mystery of how exactly he has returned forming the core of the plot. Bell still dominates in his signature role, and the story that once again explores his backstory alongside his legacy makes a franchise that felt all out of places to go feel like it actually has plenty of fresh directions to take us in.

Updates aside, this is still quintessentially Saw, which does mean it shares the series problems too; most of which usually boil down to its writing. Though tricksy, it’s always relied on quite a large suspension of disbelief given the huge coincidences that cause everything to fall into place just right and push each plot point into place, and Jigsaw is no different. Again, the twist ending is awfully contrived and frankly ridiculous if you put even a smidgen of thought into it.

But though it doesn’t quite reach the franchise high point, Jigsaw surpasses a good portion of the sequels and exceeds expectations; though it won’t win Saw many new fans, and its potential as a series reboot remains to be seen, this is an interesting and satisfying enough long-awaited follow-up.

Jigsaw is available in Australian cinemas from November 02

 Image courtesy of Studio Canal Australia 2017

Movie Review – Hounds of Love

If you can stomach it, the trip to hell that is Hounds of Love is another chilling entry in the Australian suburban nightmare, and an impressive calling card for local filmmaker Ben Young.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Corey Hogan

In 1980’s Perth, suburbanites go about their lives blissfully unaware that teenage girls are being abducted, sexually abused and murdered by a deeply disturbed married couple, Evelyn (Emma Booth) and John White (Stephen Curry). 17-year-old Vicki (Ashleigh Cummings) is not coping well with her parents’ divorce, and one night sneaks out to head to a party. On the way she encounters the Whites, and in an innocent lapse in judgement is lured back to their, only to find herself chained to a bed and the next victim of the psychotic couple’s sick tradition.

Australian cinema tends to gravitate towards certain genres in which it finds expertise and innovation – primarily horror and familial melodrama. With local talent Ben Young’s thrilling directorial debut Hounds of Love, we’re about to become famed for another one – thrillers centred around kidnapping and hostage-holding. Being released so close to the similarly-themed Berlin Syndrome naturally draws immediate comparisons, but never to its detriment; Young’s film is unique enough and equally excellent in its own right.

Set quite literally in our own backyard, it’s chilling to think that a killer couple like this could be lurking right next door, and given their typical bogan demeanour, it’s highly believable too. Young ups the unpleasant levels to an uneasy extreme, and yet the film rarely feels gratuitous; much of the violence happens just out of frame, and we’re only given hints of the horrific sexual abuse, leaving it largely up to our imagination to conjure up the disturbing images. It’s effectively uncomfortable.

Unlike Teresa Palmer, who was given a more complex love-hate relationship with her tormentor in Berlin Syndrome, Ashleigh Cummings’ Vicki is a more straightforward captive, simply (and naturally) terrified to be held against her will. Fortunately, she’s an excellent scream queen, and is granted depth through her rocky relationship with her divorced parents, particularly her mother (a small but memorable part for Susie Porter).

A seedily-moustached Stephen Curry is detestably monstrous as John; his typically comedic acting sensibility turned on its ear in an intimidating turn as the chief perpetrator. Calm on the surface but capable of truly heinous things, he brings to mind Snowtown’s John Bunting. He’s the scene-stealer, but it’s Emma Booth in the most rewarding role as his madly-in-love but psychologically tormented and conflicted wife Evelyn. She’s massively layered, so crazy for John’s affection and desperate for children that she obeys his every twisted command, but simultaneously can’t escape her sympathy for Vicki, jealousy and contempt of John’s attraction to the younger girl. Booth is terrific at balancing all of this, and her arc is satisfying to watch unfold.

Granted, it can’t help but feel like it’s travelling along the lines of most movies about captors and captives at times, but Hounds of Love is among the genre’s most macabre. It’s frequently tense and unrelenting right up to (and especially in) its squirm-worthy finale. Ben Young knows how to make audiences dig their fingers into their armrests; Hollywood will no doubt know it soon too.

Hounds of Love is available in Australian cinemas from June 1st 

Image courtesy of Label Distribution

Movie Review – Bad Girl

A duo of impressive young performances elevates Bad Girl above your usual humdrum psychological thriller.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Rhys Graeme-Drury

Filmed right here in Perth, and winner of a 2016 WA Screen Award, Bad Girl is the feature length debut for filmmaker Fin Edquist: one of the creative minds and writers behind some of Australia’s best-loved TV series’ such as The Secret Daughter, House Husbands and McLeod’s Daughters as well as the recent Blinky Bill Movie.

The film follows tearaway teen Amy (Sara West), a sulky drug-addicted 17-year-old living with her adoptive parents, whose life is turned around after meeting new neighbour and all-round darling Chloe (Samara Weaving). The two strike up a dynamite friendship that at first seems wholly harmless – but secrets and lies start to etch away at their relationship and before long it’s clear that nothing is as innocent as it first appeared.

Having been moulded and fine-tuned by Edquist over a period of about a decade, Bad Girl offers raw and unrelenting insight into female friendship and sexuality, as well as commenting on the idea of belonging and family. The purposely-vague title should be your first clue as Edquist succeeds in penning and shooting a project that plays both sides and shapes a bold new twist on the classic cinematic femme fatale.

A lot this success stems from West and Weaving’s respective performances, which grow and develop naturally across the tight 87-minute runtime. West deftly traverses the tricky tightrope that is the sulky teen, both frustratingly self-destructive and sullen but also sympathetic. The film hinges on her performance navigating both extremes, and the actress successfully explores both with ease. Weaving shines too as the almost too-perfect girl-next-door with watery blue eyes that conceal her true intentions.

The cinematography (Gavin Head) and moody score (Warren Ellis) round off an impressive debut for Edquist, who is able to root himself in the minds of two girls and deliver a film that is honest, raw and often shocking. The third act feels a little protracted and the twists and turns a little convoluted at times, but on the whole this is an notable Australian production that offers a notch or two more than your average psychological thriller.

Bad Girl is available in Australian cinemas from April 27 

Image courtesy of Curious Films

What Not To Watch This Valentine’s Day

Gone Girl (2014)

Rhys Graeme-Drury

Valentine’s Day is a manufactured Hallmark fantasy realm of sunshine designed to sell bouquets of roses, mountains of chocolate and giant teddy bears that won’t fit through the front door. In film, that kind of sparkly fairytale is reserved for saccharine adaptations of Nicholas Sparks novels.

David Fincher’s 2014 thriller Gone Girl is the antithesis of this. It builds up the illusion of love, marriage and idyllic suburban harmony before shattering it with a jackhammer, forcing a gigantic rift between our expectations and the cold harsh reality. It takes a giant steamroller to the classic white-picket fence storybook home and flattens it.

At first glance, Rosamund Pike’s Amy Dunne feels like the ‘cool girl’ that every romcom wants you and your partner to fall in love with during a romantic Valentine’s sofa sesh. She’s funny, sexy, fiercely independent and outgoing; nothing fazes her and understandably, Ben Affleck’s Nick Dunne is smitten. But years into the relationship, when the fairy dust wears off, their love is shown to be a lie and the whole mirage starts to collapse in on itself.

If you’re looking to get lovey or lucky this Valentine’s Day, best steer clear of Fincher’s uncompromising appraisal of gender politics and the delusion of domestic bliss. It’s ugly, uncomfortable and bloody. In other words, not something that is going to appropriately set the mood on February 14 when you’re trying to get your groove on.

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Eraserhead (1977)

Zachary Cruz-Tan

Now, unless you’re dating someone who thinks dead flowers and sex in a graveyard are acceptable Valentine’s gifts, you might not want to choose Eraserhead as a prelude to all the tender love-making, because in this movie, a whole fried chicken oozes blood and begins to dance on a dinner table like that creature at the end of Spaceballs.

But Eraserhead is a sucker punch for couples anyway, because what it’s really about is poor parenting. Jack Nance plays Henry, a father imprisoned by an alien infant that resembles a diseased turkey, whines all day, and eventually explodes. He is perpetually plastered with an expression of intense sobriety and coasts through life completely unmoved. It’s not exactly a training video for fatherhood.

Then again, neither are any of David Lynch’s surrealistic nightmare concoctions. You could play Blue Velvet, Mulholland Drive, or even The Elephant Man and still end up with no sex on Valentine’s. But Eraserhead is the criminal mastermind; surely the strangest, most perturbing examination of human frailty. It’s a movie I wouldn’t even want to watch with myself.

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District 9 (2009)

Cody Fullbrook

District 9 is more likely to instigate a political discussion than intimacy, and even then it’s going to be a solemn conversation that’ll put you off your Ferrero Rochers, even more than people exploding into bloody chunks.

Even brutal horror movies can have your partner huddle into you, or even excite them with the gore. Although not a horror movie, District 9 has a protagonist, Wikus, who undergoes a slow, grotesque transformation into an alien “Prawn” that is simply too intricate to be viscerally satisfying. His skin peels off, his fingernails crack apart and he vomits black fluid.  Since all these events are specifically happening to our protagonist, each instance is too personally sickening.

Not only does Wikus yell, lie and patronise “Prawns”, including a child, but he is also berated by his boss, a mercenary, a gang leader and even his alien friend, Christopher, who he later knocks out. Even his caring wife’s desire to see her husband is barely a side plot, disregarded too often to inject much, if any, romance into a story more preoccupied with the savage actions of a terrified, shapeshifting victim. District 9 is a good movie, but completely lacks any joy or warmth to bother snuggling up to.

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A Serbian Film (2010)

Corey Hogan

There is no conceivable way you could do any worse than Srdjan Spasojevic‘s classic romantic comedy A Serbian Film on Valentine’s Day. It’s one of the most notoriously heinous and morally depraved cinematic atrocities ever committed to celluloid.

It follows Milos (Srdjan ‘Zika’ Todorovic), a retired porn star who lives happily with his wife and son, but still needs to pay the bills somehow. He’s coaxed back into acting one last time; offered an opportunity to star in an “art film” with the promise of a payout that will secure his family’s future. Milos signs the contract and only learns what he’s agreed to far too late – an extremely demented and reprehensible snuff film – and there’s no way out without endangering his life and his loved ones.

The bottom of the barrel in the bowels of human decency is scraped and splashed across the screen here in graphic detail – brutal murder, paedophilia, necrophilia and more things far too disturbing to mention here are all served up on a blood-soaked, gore-drenched platter. Whatever metaphor for Serbian government and propaganda Spasojevic claimed his film to be about is lost in a nigh on unwatchable explosion of sin. It’s banned in a number of countries around the world, including Australia, so you’d really have to go out of your way to make A Serbian Film your Valentine’s viewing.

Recommended only for scaring off a bad date as fast as humanly possible (though chances are they’d report you to the authorities afterwards).

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Images courtesy of 20th Century Fox, Chapel Distribution/Umbrella Entertainment, Sony Pictures, Accent Film Entertainment

Movie Review – Split

A powerhouse performance from James McAvoy keeps Split from sinking – but only just.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Rhys Graeme-Drury

There was a point during the mid-noughties (roughly around the time that Lady in the Water sunk like a stone) that M Night Shyamalan’s less than favourable critical appraisals were something of a punchline. A series of duds that began with 2004’s The Village and ended with 2013’s After Earth certainly washed away any goodwill the world collectively felt towards Shyamalan for his impeccable work on 1999’s The Sixth Sense and 2000’s Unbreakable.

Since then, Shyamalan has retreated from the spotlight and returned to his forte; crafting grungy B-movie horror/thrillers that are dark, twisted and a little humorous. 2013’s The Visit showed promising signs; and his new movie Split continues this upward trajectory.

The movie concerns itself with Kevin (James McAvoy), a man who suffers with dissociative identity disorder – or a split personality to you and me. Kevin has 23 distinct personalities rattling around inside his noggin, from flamboyant fashionista Barry and violent OCD sufferer Dennis to prim and proper Patricia and 9-year-old kid Hedwig. Dennis decides to abduct Casey (The Witch’s Anya Taylor-Joy) and two of her classmates, locking them in an underground room where they are to await a grisly fate – being eaten by a mysterious entity only known as ‘The Beast’.

A solidly crafted psychological thriller, Split has at least one deadly arrow in its quiver in McAvoy. The Scottish actor brings menacing and nuanced emotion to the film, which allows the audience to distinguish between identities through something as small as a curled lip or head tilt.

McAvoy often has to switch personalities mid-conversation and on a couple of occasions in the same take; it might sound trivial but there is power in his ability to switch so effectively, darkening his brow when Dennis bubbles to the surface or summoning childlike innocence in Hedwig. It’s a committed role that requires a lot of physicality and he absolutely aces it.

Taylor-Joy is pretty good too, even if her character is too often forgotten about. Casey and her friends mainly just act as props for most of the movie, devoid of the urgency we saw in Mary Elizabeth Winstead’s character in 10 Cloverfield Lane or the emotion of Brie Larson’s in Room. Betty Buckley plays Dr Karen Fletcher, Kevin’s physiatrist, and her role is essentially to provide jargon that drives the plot forward – she might as well be called Dr Janet Exposition.

It’s also hard to ignore Split’s inherent flaw, which is that it uses mental illness as a byword for villainy. Granted, there is at least a vague attempt at framing Kevin as redeemable and Shyamalan does make an effort to comment on the lasting impacts of trauma and abuse – but it doesn’t resonate as strongly as it could have, sadly.

At the end of the day, Split will probably divide (or split, har har) opinions. It’s far from Shyamalan’s best work, but it does dish out some decent thrills and I wouldn’t dissuade fans of the director or genre from going to see it. Just strap yourself in for a good film plagued with problems (and a really dumb twist right at the end – but c’mon, it’s Shyamalan, what did you expect?)

Split is available in Australian cinemas from January 26

Image (c) Universal Pictures 2017

Movie Review – The Girl On The Train

The Girl On The Train has a cast worth catching a ride for, but its frustrating filmmaking is better left at the station.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Corey Hogan 

From the window of the train she catches to and from New York every day, Rachel (Emily Blunt) – a bitter, self-destructive alcoholic – avoids looking at her visible old home, where her ex-husband Tom (Justin Theroux) still lives happily with his new wife Anna (Rebecca Ferguson) and their newborn child. Instead she focuses her attention on their neighbours Megan (Haley Bennett) and Scott (Luke Evans), an attractive young couple she fantasises about and projects the perfect marriage she desperately wishes she still had. One day everything changes when Rachel witnesses Megan having an affair, not long before Megan is reported missing. An entangled web connecting everyone is uncovered, and Rachel begins to question her own involvement in the disappearance.

Let’s get one thing out of the way, since everyone has been so premature to make the comparison –Gone Girl this is not. Similar themes of infidelity, betrayal and violence within marital ties drew The Girl on the Train an immediate relation to David Fincher’s 2014 hit murder mystery; a success story the producers were no doubt hoping to recreate when the rights to adapt Paula Hawkins’ debut novel were acquired. It all seemed rather promising, but disappointingly Tate Taylor’s (The Help, Get on Up) flat thriller packs a few too many problems on board that not only prevent it from touching GG’s irreverent finesse, but threaten to derail it completely.

First and foremost, it becomes clear early on that the diary-entry format of Hawkins’ book simply does not translate well to the silver screen; at least not without some artistic liberties that Taylor and co. have failed to capitalise on. On page there’s plenty of room to breathe and time to get to know these women and the men in their lives, but here we’re introduced to all six major players in a short space of time, challenging non-readers to keep up with the multitude of connections between each. There’s a bit too much content for too little a running time, forcing it to wind up very talky and expository, and intermittent flashbacks only further confuse an already convoluted story. This at least means there’s no opportunity for boredom – close attention is necessary to a near-exhausting level.

After an overstuffed setup, The Girl on the Train settles more comfortably into its middle stretch and becomes intriguing, as red herrings are thrown about and the mystery becomes a true curiosity. Tragically though, the answer becomes disappointingly obvious before the big twist is revealed, and it can’t help but feel unsatisfying and a little too convenient.

Thankfully, a quality cast keep this train on the tracks, even if they aren’t really given the characterisation they deserve. Emily Blunt is the obvious standout; even if she is perhaps a bit too pretty to play the detrimental Rachel, she’s sympathetic and gutsy enough to root for, for the most part. But the rest match her in their well suited roles; especially recent breakouts Rebecca Ferguson, the scornful new wife, and Haley Bennett, whose interesting backstory and fate is sadly undercut by the lack of impact her big moments need.

It all sounds rather negative, but truth be told The Girl on the Train is not terrible. Though frustrating and easy to pick apart upon reflection, the film is a trashy good time that does genuinely keep you hooked until its reveal.

The Girl On The Train is available in Australian cinemas from October 6

Image courtesy of EntertainmentOne Films

Alfred Hitchcock Film Festival – Vertigo

Doused in lust and obsession, Vertigo remains one of cinema’s defining mystery films by revealing Hitchcock’s darkest fantasies.

Zachary Cruz-Tan

Vertigo is possibly the greatest of Alfred Hitchcock’s films because it succeeds at being an effective psychological thriller as well as a careful study of his filmmaking approach. In the movie, Scottie Ferguson (James Stewart) becomes obsessed with the woman of his dreams and shapes her into an object of his desires. Hitchcock was notorious for choosing blondes as his leading ladies; fetishizing them in objectifying costumes and ultimately humiliating them at the hands of controlling men. You could almost use Scottie as a reflection of Hitchcock’s fixation.

This dichotomy is perhaps the reason Vertigo remains so disturbing. In 2007, the American Film Institute ranked it as the best mystery movie, and in 2012, Sight & Sound magazine named it the best film of all time, just ahead of Citizen Kane. Why not Notorious? Or Rear Window? Or Psycho? Those were great films about horror and paranoia, but Vertigo is more in harmony with its director.

I won’t go over the plot. You either know it or you don’t, in which case its surprises are best left for you to discover. Vertigo, however, is less about plot and more about the imprisonment of its characters. Scottie’s obsession with Madeleine (Kim Novak) is an entrapment, and Madeleine’s subsequent love for Scottie binds her to a man who only thinks he shares the same feelings. Both characters tumble ever downward into loneliness and despair, and Scottie, who spends the entire film trying to overcome his irrational fear of heights, succeeds at the cost of his twisted fantasy.

If it sounds like a dour, unforgiving tragedy, it is, but Hitchcock is a master of his tools, and in Vertigo he manages to strike intrigue, while Stewart’s subversive, edgy performance makes Scottie a thoroughly captivating individual. Stewart was known for playing the implausible hero – like L.B. Jefferies in Rear Window – but in Vertigo he is transformed. He still retains much of his natural charisma, but it’s sullener, tuned down, toned up. He creeps into the picture as a man torn apart by himself, and he is absolutely fascinating to watch.

The female characters are, of course, victims of Hitchcock’s gaze. Both Madeleine and Midge (Scottie’s college friend, played by Barbara Bel Geddes) subject themselves to humiliation and demise, but by the time they realise it, the plot has twisted so tightly around itself that there is no escape for anybody. This magnificent play on lust, obsession and guilt is what gives Vertigo a backbone. A plot of games to last through the decades.

But the movie is also a technical marvel. It is perhaps most remembered for pioneering the “dolly zoom”, a camera technique in which the lens zooms in while the physical camera tracks back, creating the illusion of compressed space around an unchanging subject. It was a visual phenomenon popularised by Spielberg’s Jaws in 1976, used to highlight acute fear. In Vertigo, its use is more fundamental but no less effective; as Scottie stares down from great heights, the ground rushes up to greet him.

One of the great joys about Hitchcock’s oeuvre is that you’re never short of a masterpiece. Here is a director who made more than fifty films; around half of them observe humanity from behind a door of fear and mistaken identities. They’re always about more than what they’re about. Spellbound was more than just proving a man’s innocence. Notorious was more than just uncovering Nazi secrets. And Vertigo is certainly about more than a fear of heights. By uniting so many strands of his life into 120 minutes of personal agony, Hitchcock has crafted one of the most enduring films of all time.

You can catch Vertigo on the big screen at Windsor Cinema Monday 1 August & Sunday 7 August

Image courtesy of Paramount Pictures

Christmas Cracker Review – Eyes Wide Shut

 If your typical festive, family viewing these holidays doesn’t have enough marital dysfunction, gratuitous sex parties or cryptic, inconclusive mystery for your liking – boy, do we have the movie for you…

Corey Hogan 

After a confronting incident at a friend’s Christmas party, Alice Harford (Nicole Kidman) reveals to her husband Bill (Tom Cruise) her fantasies of cheating on him with a naval officer they met on vacation. With his perception of marriage and devotion rattled, Bill embarks on an impulsive and increasingly bizarre journey through New York, encountering colleagues at jazz clubs and digressing into an unnerving foray of a mysterious masqueraded society…

Stanley Kubrick’s notoriously divisive final film is not your typical Christmas viewing; there’s very little cheer and festivities to be found in this rather bleak and chilling affair. But if you look closely, every scene (save the famous masked orgy) is illuminated with colourful Christmas lights and brimming to the edge of the frame with tinsel and decorations, giving the film a surreal, almost dreamlike haze – in other words, typically Kubrickian symbolism.

There are interpretations aplenty; some feel as though it was intended to paint the consumerism of Christmastime as foreboding. While others note that the holiday itself represents lust and desire in that it always promises more than it can deliver. We’ll never really know, since Kubrick died just six days after its completion – further adding to the daunting mystery surrounding it (not that he ever discussed any of the more ambiguous elements of his films anyway).

Eyes Wide Shut has the essentials of your standard Christmas movie – ultimately a family is brought closer together than ever before in time for the celebratory day, even if it is through paranoia and fear of an unknown force. Recommended for anyone seeking a thrilling, ominous and psychological spin on the merry occasion.

Images courtesy of Roadshow Films