25 of 31 Horror Films I've Never Seen: Spring (2014)

I love films with open endings.  I like philosophical exploration, emotional clarity, and above all things I love when a film is unafraid to explore honesty.  There are so many different ways to do it; metaphorically, allegorically, scientifically, and spiritually.  So what do you call a film that explores the metaphysics of love via a monster movie format?  All of the above I suppose and that's what makes Aaron Moorehead and Justin Benson's Spring an immensely great film.

After his mother succumbs to cancer, Evan's (Lou Taylor Pucci) life is completely upended by tragedy and circumstance causing him to flee the United States.  With no idea where to go he books a flight to Italy where fate pushes him towards Louise (Nadia Hilker) an incredible woman harboring a dark secret.

Every review you will ever read likes to draw comparison's to Richard Linklater, particularly Before Sunrise and due to many of the creature transformation effects present (and the seaside setting) to the horror of H.P. Lovecraft.  It's an apt comparison, at least stylistically, but there is something so completely honest about Spring that I think it's almost unfair.  That is not to say that Linklater's films don't contain honesty, but he does have a certain pretension to philosophical meandering that is nowhere near as present in Moorehead and Benson's work.  The immediate intimacy between the two leads is electric and their dialogue is so refreshingly honest, witty, blunt, charming, and mature.  So much of dialogue in films is made up of arguments that lead nowhere.  Evan and Louise communicate so fully throughout the film that it almost makes it read even more as a fantasy, if only because the audience isn't used to it.

This film was a breakout success following their first film Resolution which gained some notoriety at the Tribecca Film Festival in 2012, another film in which they use the Horror genre as a springboard (pun intended) to discuss other more real life issues and fears.  Spring, outside of being an incredible mash up of genre, is also an exquisitely shot film where the camera itself takes on the presence of an invisible character.  Settling on strange animal and plant activity happening the foreground which starts of barely noticeable and slowly becomes a focal metaphor to the rest of the narrative, the camera never feels intrusive or uninviting, but instead a welcoming power.  It is also so refreshing to see a film that isn't afraid to inhale deeply personal emotions and exhale a monstrous creature that feasts on living prey.  A fantastic second feature from a team of incredible filmmakers who are absolutely worth following.

A travers la foret (Through The Forest)

Multi-genre films are difficult to pull off and as a result there are only a few directors I can name off the tip of my tongue that do/did a good job of it.  The main one, of course, is Andrei Tarkovsky, who had an ability to meld human drama with surreal dream theory, science fiction, and near occult horror, in a way that made his films transcendent and beautiful.  Another such director with this ability, albeit in a much more pulpy way, is Sion Sono.  Love Exposure: Is it a horror film? Is it a domestic drama?  Is it a romance film?  It's all three, and you can't take your eyes off of it.  Recently I discovered the work of Jean-Paul Civeyrac via happenstance and decided to take a dive in with Á travers la forêt, or Through The Forest.

This may be the shortest synopsis I ever give because I wouldn't be able to convey what the film is about without giving the entire story away.  It's a short film, a little over 1 hour in length, about Armelle (played by Camille Berthomier aka Jehny Beth), a girl who is stricken with grief over the death of her boyfriend Renaud, and how her inability to cope with this reality pushes her to attempt extra-spiritual ways to get back into his arms.

This film blends genre very well.  What could have simply been a psychological study of grief is mixed in a surreal way to pose theories about the possibilities of life after death.  The cinematographic design of the film is superb, breaking the story down into 9 scenes that are each filmed in a single take.  They also chose to keep the camera at a mid shot, never showing us a full head to toe of any of the actors, going so far as to keep them in extreme close ups as they move around the set pieces of apartments, coffee shops, and the outside world.  In this way the performances of the actors are enhanced.  We are with them, specifically Armelle; we feel her every emotion.

This may be cutting away from the critical analysis a little bit, but I discovered this film because of my recent obsession with a band called Savages.  Camille Berthomier, under the alias Jehny Beth, is the vocalist for this group and seeing the film with that in mind reminded me of the complexity of the human soul.  Our ability to convey so much thought and emotion into different forms of expression is simply astounding.  We make all the mistakes and suffer all the triumphs and tragedies that life has to offer, attempting to then share these experiences in a meaningful way in order to preserve the legacy of our time on this Earth.  It is films like this that capture all the essences of this inexplicable feeling.

Surprisingly, in an age where there are countless streaming subscriber services, Civeyrac's films appear to be damn impossible to get at.  You can find this one with a small collection of his films in a UK box set with english subtitles, but that's pretty much it.  If you have the scratch, I highly recommend doing so, especially if you're looking for something outside the typical Hollywood fair.

Delirium Films

I haven't watched anything particularly NEW in the past couple of weeks.  When I say 'new' of course, I'm talking about recently theatrical releases.  Instead, I've been combing through my back log of films that I have acquired over the years and, for some reason or another, neglected to watch up until this point.  A few months ago I finally sat down and watched Andrzej Zulawski's Possession in it's manic, gory, uncut glory.  Today, I sat down to watch it's predecessor, L'important c'est d'aimer.

The film starts off with an actress (Romy Schneider) going through hell on some sort of film set, which we later discover is a pornographic set.  A sneaky photographer (Fabio Testi) takes pictures of her in a compromising moment and she notices him.  Somehow drawn to her, he goes to her house the next day proposing to take more artistic pictures in an attempt to make up for his trespass.  What ensues is a journey into an understanding of pain, sorrow, filth, and, most importantly, love.

Zulawski's camera is almost constantly in motion, resulting in a slightly delirious, borderline manic feeling, only offset by incredible close-ups with amazing orchestral swells.  We are locked into the characters and we want, no, we HAVE to know what is going to happen.  Will they succeed or fail miserably?  The film does not provide any definitive answers to the more basic questions, but instead offers suggestions for the viewer to take in and digest.

At the heart of it all, it is a love story between people who are caught in a sticky web of failure.  They're all failed artists.  A failed actress reduced to pornographic films and dubbing work.  Her husband (Jacques Dutronc), with multiple failed ventures and an obsession with authentic photographs of classic film stars.  It is the photographer who seeks to try and provide them with some success, a venture which fails pretty miserably, but it is through these actions that each character finds a sort of closure and a chance to move on, albeit in unexpected ways.

Zulawski has a reputation for making artistically controversial and often violent films.  His films, while excessive in some areas, still are incredibly unique in how he handles eroticism and emotion.  The characters in this film, speak quite frankly, but simultaneously they do not give themselves away to each other, making the character dynamics more complex.

This film is not for the faint of heart.  There are moments that made my skin crawl, but I do not take those moments as a reason to not watch a film.  On the whole, the story is intriguing, the pacing is excellent, the technique is strong, and the acting was top notch.  Stellar performances from the three leads and a wonderful supporting role from Klaus Kinski made this film superbly enjoyable.

New Belgium Cinema

I'm always looking for films that I can't describe after seeing.  The type of films that just strike you someplace deep in your chest or in your mind, igniting the fibers and sinews of emotion within your soul.  It shouldn't be too surprising that I found this with The Kid With A Bike the new Dardenne Brothers film.

Thematically, the story is about growing up with the psychic wound of abandonment.  The main character, Cyril (played by new comer Tomas Doret) has been abandoned to a country run children's home, like an orphanage intended to be a halfway towards foster families.  Refusing to believe that his father would abandon him, he attempts to escape from the house and find his father, only to discover that the adults had been telling him the truth.  Upon his capture in a medical clinic he becomes bound by fate to Samantha, a hair dresser (played by the wonderfully natural Cécile de France).  Samantha becomes increasingly attached to Cyril, first out of pity, and second out of honest love.

The wounds of abandonment are hard felt and Cyril is definitely damaged by them.  Psychologically speaking, he cannot reconcile his trauma and acts out in increasingly difficult and vicious ways, seeking love in all the wrong places regardless of the fact that it's been right in front of him all along.

Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne's previous works include the Palmé d'Or winning Rosetta and L'Enfant as well as many others, and they have been working together for the past 37 years.  Their style is very influenced by documentary film making, where they got their start, and their stories tend to be about young people in dire situations.  They generally eschew music, with the exception of diegetic (motivated by the scene, i.e. a car radio, boom box, or television), although Kid is the first to feature a piece of non-diegetic music, a Beethoven piano concerto.  While many of their films do not contain happy or uplifting endings (they are certainly more interested in realism) they focus on the transitory nature of emotion and mental maturity.

I will end on a non spoiler note, that The Kid With A Bike is probably one of their most accessible films to date, in terms of a wider audience appeal.  I watched it with a few friends at The Aero in Santa Monica, CA followed by a Q/A with the Dardenne Brothers and I think it's safe to say that everyone in the theater left with the elation of seeing a film that left a feeling inside them that is difficult, if not impossible, to describe with words.

The film should hit theaters in Los Angeles in March, hopefully a wider release is to come, and it has also been nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Foreign Film.