Here comes the 31 Days of Horror dump you've been waiting for!
Hiruko the Goblin: Part 1 of a big day for Japanese horror, with a special showcase on director Shinya Tsukamoto. Quite a bit more mainstream-friendly than Tetsuo: The Iron Man, this one nevertheless displays a lot of the same anything goes spirit of that one, though with a decidedly less aggressive aesthetic. It has, well, what counts for a more conventional story (heroes against monsters to stop them from gathering in larger numbers; in this case, the Japanese schoolgirl equivalent of Norris-Thing, but the stalking scenes have the same kinetic energy as what we saw in Tsukamoto's previous film, with the camera climbing onto anything and everything at high speeds. There's a lot more outright comedy in this, even in the gory moments, though Tsukamoto does sneak in some surprisingly spooky bits here and there, such as what happens when a goblin does get a hold of someone. There's honestly not a whole heck of a lot to elaborate upon with this one, as the film strikes me on the whole as Tsukamoto proving himself to bigger studios of being able to "play it straight" to help fund more out-there projects, such as the ones I'm about to get into, but it's ultimately a decent time out with some nice moments of inspiration.
Tetuso II: Body Hammer: Part 2 of a big day for Japanese horror, with a special showcase on director Shinya Tsukamoto. More a thematic sequel, though it's hard not to see more explicit connections if only because of the returning dynamic between Tomorowo Taguchi as the main character watching his world transform into something metal and Tsukamoto as the main villain who presses him towards that destiny, along with another rollicking industrial score from Chu Ishikawa. This time, Tsukamoto doesn't go in as heavy on the visual assault in terms of the color timing and editing techniques, so it's easier on the eyes overall, but make no mistake: this film is otherwise as violent, loud and otherwise completely out there as its predecessor, now armed with a much bigger budget and more ambition. It might surprise people to know that there is, in fact, a more conventional narrative here, but good luck paying that much attention to it when the body horror of flesh and metal merging gets a much bigger emphasis here, with arms, chests and heads turning into massive artillery and rust messily consuming those not worthy of Tsukamoto's vision of the new flesh for a new millennium. Even the fantasy sequences, such as they exist in a world this weird already, are substantially more elaborate and grotesque, utilizing even more refined stop-motion techniques than the original had the time or the money for. It is rather comforting to know that Tsukamoto didn't lose his step here, when a lot of other directors would have tamed and even dulled their vision just to be able to pull off some of what they were going for, which makes this film, against all odds, a very strong equal to its predecessor, and in some instances, even surpass it.
Gemini: Part 3 of a big day for Japanese horror, with a special showcase on director Shinya Tsukamoto. Trading the industrial hellscapes in for a late Meiji era period piece, this film nevertheless could only have come from the mind of Tsukamoto, and indeed, a lot of his themes on the duality of man and how easily they can turn into something else entirely are present and accounted, as does yet another brilliant score from longtime collaborator Chu Ishikawa, who is not particularly interested in keeping it faithful to the music of the era and all the more remarkable for it. He also deploys his patented bag of visual tricks, minus the stop-motion techniques that would have been out of place here, in very surprising and disarming ways, as the setting is used wonderfully against the viewer expecting a more conventional approach. The tricky story structure and the jarring cuts back and forth keep you on the edge of your seat the whole way through, as does the intense performances that Masahiro Motoki delivers in both of the roles he provides. Of his films, it's easily the strongest work I've seen for Tsukamoto, as I feel like he nailed the balance between the stylized visuals without being too overwhelming for a lot of people while still delivering a very compelling story, strong characters and complex themes, and it's able to do so within a brisk 83 minutes and not waste a single moment. It's a damn great film, and one that shows a filmmaker that can shift effortlessly into something else while still making it entirely his.
Ring: Part 4 and the finale to a big day for Japanese horror. The tip of the spear for the J-horror boom of the late 90s and well into the 2000s, the film trades more on atmospheric frights than going boo that often or overwhelming you with grisly violence. Compared to, well, many horror films really, it offers a very heavy character focus, centering on a fractured romantic relationship between our leads that through the course of their investigation into the origins of the cursed tape that has seemingly sealed their fate, starts making some inroads on repair. The film does a great job with just feeling slight unnerving at all times, capturing a sensation of true eeriness that leaves you just apprehensive enough to not take each scene to be completely free of genuine haunting presence. And it knows exactly when to hit the gas, most famously in its justifiably iconic climax that nails the killer concept with a great deal of simplicity as the sheer thought of it is more than enough to send chills down someone's spine without having to go into being an effects extravaganza. While I loved the stillness of the film, it can feel a bit wanting as far as conflict is concerned: it's not to say that it's absent, as after all, it is very much a race against time thriller at its core, but the time pressure never really seems to be felt until the final day, and the additional hauntings that transpire don't have quite the menace that they should have. There's still a lot to admire about the restraint here, though, and Hideo Nakata is a gifted technician with how much he's able to create with only base materials provided, showing off by not showing off at all. It's a very good film, and while not my favorite J-horror film of even this marathon, I find it impossible to argue against its canonization as a classic of the genre.
301, 302: Part 1 of a big day for Korean horror films. This one doesn't make it immediately obvious as to where things are headed for a while, and instead on the messy backstories of our two tenants as they sit down for an attempt at enjoying a meal together. But even that has its own complications, as we come to discover, as the film takes great lengths to put us in the respective headspaces of both women as it becomes clearer that things are headed in a rather dark direction. I dug this one a lot because of how well the visuals support their outlooks on life, with each apartment acting as an extension of each woman, as do their flashbacks that set them on their current course in life. Strong performances from both Eun-jin Pang and Sin-hye Hwang should be expected, but it was still a nice surprise to see them go all in with their portrayals of 301 and 302, respectively. I'm a little surprised that this isn't better known by now, especially since it's available for free on Youtube via the Korean Film Archive, so consider that your invitation if your tastes veer towards slow burns and character-driven fare, rather than outright shocks and violence.
The Quiet Family: Part 2 of a big day for Korean horror. You may have heard of this one before, but in relation to a different film, as this served as the source material for The Happiness of the Katakuris, Takashi Miike's delirious musical adventure of a family who just wants people to stop dying at their lodge in the mountains. The core of that story is intact, but the direction here veers towards outright dark humor, drawing its biggest laughs from the increasingly complicated pile of bodies that the family would rather not be collecting. The story is also rather different, and though that shouldn't be surprising given wherever the hell Katakuris goes is a place no film could possibly follow, it does mean that this stands on its own very well and fans of that film would do well if only for that reason. The other big reason is that this happens to be the feature film debut of Kim Jee-woon as a director, and while it's not as slick as his following films, it's a treat to see how much he already had developed at a technician and his sensibilities as a director fits the material here like a glove. He gets a lot of help from the fun cast, including future regulars Song Kang-ho and Choi Min-sik, who are all game for whatever and whoever gets thrown their way. Throw in a delightfully odd licensed soundtrack that sources from the likes of Harry Nilsson, The Stray Cats and The Partridge Family, and you've got a rather fun and funny time out with a family that would have been better served in the funeral business.
Whispering Corridors: Part 3 of a big day for Korean horror. The beginning of the first big Korean horror franchise, there's certainly a lot of appeal here with the all-girls school setting and the focus on the cruelty of students and faculty alike even before the ghosts start showing up. The film does open with a big death scene that is perpetrated by said specter, but it isn't for another hour until it strikes again. To fill in that time, there are a lot (and I mean a lot) of subplots and characters introduced that flesh out the school itself, but I did find myself wishing we'd get back to the main story fairly often. The last 20 minutes or so answer those desires, but it crams a lot into there, making it feel rushed and overstuffed, not giving a lot of breathing room for the revelations to land with the impact that they should have hit with. I get the feeling that this would have been better as a book, as there's a cheapness to the look and feel of the film that suggests there simply weren't enough resources for them to satisfyingly hit the marks that it set for itself, despite the ambition of the story that does at least go down some interesting roads. It's not bad, but there's a lot of wasted potential here.
The Ring Virus: Part 4 and the finale of a big day for Korean horror. Not a cheap ripoff of the Japanese film, this Korean version mixes elements from that version as well as adapting more of the book itself to create its own version of the story, and I felt it was pretty successful. While it doesn't have the eerie stillness of Nakata's film, it does boast an effective atmosphere unique to itself and the increase in more outright tense moments due to the story changes (here, the relationship between the leads is a bit more fractured and platonic in nature) is much appreciated. The scenes that are lifted wholesale from what the Japanese film created don't compare nearly as favorably, particularly the staging of the climax when the spirit pops out of the TV screen, though I do actually like the very slight but noticeable adjustment that's made to the ending as a result. If it does have a noticeable flaw, it's that it's a version that does assume the viewer to have some familiarity with either the book or the Japanese film, as it skips through a lot of the buildup and goes straight to the point in almost all instances. It's funny that it's about 10 minutes longer, but somehow feels about the same length due to this, but it works well and I feel this stacks up rather well. Dare I call it an equal? Perhaps not outright, but I do like this telling as much as its source film, so that's gotta count for something.
Cube: Surprise! A literal last minute addition to the lineup for this year's marathon, due to certain factors that aren't worth getting into, but quite a nice surprise in the end. The idea of a kind of ever-shifting prison/maze is a strong one, and here it gets a lot of justice do to some rather sharp direction from Vincenzo Natali, who makes the most out the premise and limited location to deliver a well-paced and creative film the whole way through. Sure, the acting almost uniformly sucks, with Maurice Dean Wint singled out as the greatest offender on that front, but it's not nearly as distracting as you might expect it to be since they serve their purpose well enough to get to the real meat of the movie. It's got a really good balance of suspense, drama, exposition and some good ol' fashioned gore that keeps it very engaging for its duration, and while the poor acting does let down the growing tension among the group, it's still surprisingly effective all the same. It's not the kind of film that will change your world, but it's a good crowd-pleaser and manages to surprise you with its craftiness and willingness to upend your expectations.
Jacob's Ladder: Part 1 of the big finale. Given my love of the Silent Hill video game series, it might come as a surprise that I only now got around to this film, but hey, that's pretty much every marathon for me! Despite the nightmarish visuals on display, there's a pleasantly dreamy vibe to the film throughout that I really dug. No doubt intentional, given the story, but for a film that tries on hats like a violent Vietnam war story, paranoid conspiracy thriller, heartbreaking family drama and whatever the hell it is that goes on in the basement of that hospital, it's strangely comforting by the end, which is an unusual feat. It's also a really well acted movie from top to bottom, though it sure doesn't hurt that the cast is as stacked as it is to begin with, with the big highlights being Tim Robbins as Jacob, mining the almost cherub-like features of his face to maximum effect while emoting and still exhibiting a deeper pain that's not quite at the surface, and especially Elizabeth Peña as the long suffering yet loyal Jezzie, who exudes the right level of confidence and pity that her role requires. I've never been too big on Adrian Lyne as a director, but he does acquit himself rather well here by stepping outside of his usual wheelhouse and going for something a lot grander and unconventional, with some nice visual touches that don't pull too much from his usual bag of tricks as well as doing well by all the actors in eliciting the right emotions and responses from. If I do have any quibbles, I do think that the structure of the narrative does tip its direction a little too early so that it's not quite the shock that the twist could have been, but I feel like that the film makes a convincing case that it's not really about catching you off-guard with it, so much as it's easing you into the inevitability of what's to happen that helps crystallize what it's like to be in Jacob's position. It's a little weird to praise a horror film for being kind and gentle in its approach, especially one as violent as this one, but it works rather well here and leaves a strong impression.
Halloween H20: 20 Years Later: Part 2 and the finale of our grand finale! And hey, for the first time ever, I saw a Halloween film on Halloween! Contrasted to Halloween 6, which was one of the first films I saw this year and had about 4 films worth of bullshit crammed into one interminable slog, H20 wisely throws out everything that happened after 2 and makes a sequel that, well, is 20 years later, with Laurie now with an assumed identity, a kid (Josh Hartnett, at his most bedhead-y), a bit of a drinking problem and a whole lot of baggage from having to deal with the trauma of that one night in 1978. It's nothing revolutionary, but it's fertile ground for a sequel to sprout up from, and for the most part it does hit those marks in the early goings, all the while Michael finds his way to where Laurie is hiding. Since this is a late 90s slasher film, and it is set at a school for teenagers and it is from the same studio behind Scream, shameless enough to plug their own product in this film, that means a multitude of snarky one-liners that could only have come out of the mouths of late 20s-early 30s screenwriters and no one else on the planet, and it's as cringe-worthy as it sounds. It also doesn't help that longtime slasher vet Steve Miner isn't really interested in doing anything with them, allowing them to play out on screen unimpeded while being looked on by what I imagine were a very satisfied pair of Weinstein brothers patting themselves on the back for really getting the kids these days. Thankfully, those old instincts of Miner do kick back in for the second half of the film, which goes through a lively stalk-and-slash of the teens before moving onto the main event: an extended, very physical and very satisfying showdown between Laurie and Michael, mano a mano. Jamie Lee Curtis really throws herself into her portrayal, showing she can take a hit as well as she can deliver them, and the finale does a great job of showing how much she's grown beyond being trapped by her fears and into a straight-up badass that has absolutely no time for Michael's shenanigans, culminating with a brilliant mic drop of an ending that should have ended the series right then and there. While it can't avoid chasing trends itself, the film's strong third act really makes a great case for why it's important to hunker down on the elements that you know can and will work that have been time-tested, giving the film a really terrific finish that does a lot to elevate it past "me too" status. No, it's not even half as great as the original film, but the fact that I can safely say that it deserves to be counted as a solid sequel and an all-around worthwhile film is something that I thought I'd never get to say about any of the films made after the first one.
I also saw Spirited Away on Monday night with my brothers, making it just over 10 months since the last time I saw it in a theater. It's still fairly masterful and wonderful, I guess.
