10/7
(1964, UK. Dir: Robert Hartford-Davis)
Sir Richard Fordyke (John Turner) returns to his home village and inherited manor with his lovely new Lady (Heather Sears - Hammer's Christine). He finds his friends and neighbors are feeling a tad uneasy upon his return, with talk of rapes and murders that plagued the town during the Lord's absence. After asking a few pressing questions, Fordyke finds that some villagers believe that he was the responsible party, despite being 200 miles away during all of the crimes. They justify this by crying "witchcraft!", and Fordyke is forced to defend himself to his friends, family, and his new wife (who is his only alibi). More troubling is that a ghostly woman has been spotted chasing people through the manor yard. Perhaps Fordyke has got a bit of the old "brain fever" like his dead grandaddy, whose portrait overlooks the hallways of the cavernous manner.
The Black Torment is one of those impressively atmospheric gothic horrors that could only come out of the 1960s--the costumes are huge, the tombstones are even bigger, the windows clang, too many candles are lit. It probably deserves better than this Legend Films DVD print, but it's still worth catching just for the rich atmosphere, ornate setting, and spooky set-pieces. Of note are the cerulean-tinted nighttime sequences, especially a horseback chase through the woods featuring the eerie ghostly woman in a long white cloak. Accomplished with no special effects other than the perfect camera angle, the illusion that the woman is floating through the forest is spine-tingling indeed. There's also a startling hanging scene that caught me off guard, and a few weird touches (e.g., a scene where we see booze being administered gently to the poor, incapacitated father, shot from the perspective of his mouth).
Where The Black Torment fails is with it's Scooby-Doo finale. There are at least seven big reveals in a five minute span, none of which the viewer could have ever guessed. The mysteries all resolved with left-field answers with no room for ambiguity, and it's really unsatisfying after an otherwise enjoyable ride.
My Rating: 6/10 (ftv)
(2012, USA/Spain. Dir: Rodrigo Cortés)
Hot off the heels of his mostly well-received indie debut, Buried, Rodrigo Cortés brings us a much bigger film, complete with A-listers. The first scene in Red Lights is a blatant poke at the modern supernatural horror film trend of having a turbulent, suspenseful opening. It starts out very stone-faced, with a pair of apparent paranormal investigators trying to help a family who claims their young daughters are being haunted. During a séance with the family's hired psychic, it becomes evident that Dr. Matheson (Sigourney Weaver!) and Tom (Cillian Murphy) are quietly dismissing the entire situation. After a quick heart-to-heart with one of the haunted daughters, we see Dr. Matheson and Tom leaving the premises, much to the dismay of the parents.
Turns out, Matheson and Tom are renowned debunkers of psychic phenomena who have made a career of investigating and exposing faux psychics, both small-time and celebrity. Tom is a physicist who spends his time assisting skeptic Matheson because he's had some bad childhood experience with a psychic. They have a pretty elaborate set-up that uses science, technology, and detective skills (looking for "red lights"--things that shouldn't be there before a psychic has a show). She's been at it for decades, and points out that she's admittedly washed-up, and doesn't deserve a young assistant who could have a brilliant career in his professional field. That's a pretty good example of the types of conversations these characters have.
Weaver and Murphy both give performances reminiscent of some of their previous films, but manage to create some chemistry, despite the characters being underwritten clichés. Enter Robert De Niro, as Simon Silver, a world-famous blind psychic that Matheson tried to expose in the past, and really wants to nail now that he's making a comeback. When we finally see Silver in front of an audience, he's "curing" a man by haphazardly shoving his fingers into his side, playing around with his guts, all while the ailing man is awake. It's a gruesome scene for sure, but the rest of the movie isn't as effective. Red Lights tries to be topical with its psychic paranormal angle, but the movie somehow seems really dated in its focus on America's obsession with celeb psychics. When's the last time anyone has heard the name Sylvia Browne? Isn't Miss Cleo in jail? And no on actually watches Long Island Medium other to laugh at it, right? In the end, Red Lights isn't about faux psychics, but rather the cheesy moral of being true to yourself, and having faith in an afterlife...Red lights!
My Rating: 4/10 (ftv)
(1970, UK. Dir: Alan Gibson)
Goodbye Gemini is one of those film viewing experiences where I found myself staring at the screen in awe, thinking "how the hell have I not seen this already!?" Always such a gratifying moment!
Jackie (Judy "Inseminoid" Geeson) and Julian (Martin Potter, Satyricon) are young, bratty, impossibly blonde twins who are moved to a new, luxurious home. It isn't made clear who the homeowner is, possibly their father, but they are placed in the care of the maid. They don matching outfits, and Jackie clutches to a teddy bear, so at the beginning of the film, you'd guess their age at 15 or 16. Regardless of their age, it's extremely unsettling watching Julian ogle Jackie as she changes. It is evident that Jackie and Julian are only interested in general debauchery, and the little sociopaths will do anything to ensure a good time. After committing an act of violence with their teddy, we see the kids drinking in a bar (with teddy, straws up his nose). They're immediately wooed by the sleazy, scheming Clive (Alexis Kanner) and whisked away to a party. It's clear that perhaps the Geminis are a little older than their childish behavior suggests.
They become engrossed in the swingin' sixties lifestyle, charming everyone they come across. Jackie and Clive start up a thing, Julian and Clive's gal have a fling, and in great tradition of the best films of this era, soon Clive is seducing Julian. After a strange set-up with some hookers in a motel room, the twins start to tire of the party life, and try to move on to the next adventure. But have they gotten themselves in too deep?
Goodbye Gemini is a bizarre, trippy film, even by late 60's standards. It's almost like a distant cousin of rock 'n' roll cult classic Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, although the music isn't nearly as enjoyable. The swooping score can be grating at times, especially during the tender (creepy) moments between the twins. The leads are fascinating to watch. Geeson brings an almost unnatural innocence to her character, while Potter's sociopathic and sexually-confused Julian is unnerving. The last third of the film descends into unsettling violence, madness, and identity horror in a less campy way than the finale of BtVotD.
My Rating: 6/10 (ftv)
(1972, USA. Dir: Waris Hussein)
At the start of The Possession, Norah (Shirley "how the hell did I end up in this movie" McLaine), a wealthy socialite, is at a cocktail party with handsome buck Joel (Perry King, Andy Warhol's Bad), who looks at least ten years her junior. A moment of seething jealousy inflects Norah's countenance when she sees her man talking with a much younger woman.
Later, we see Norah at home with her two young children, talking about having Uncle Joel over for dinner. During this scene she mentions four times that Joel is her brother, revealing that director Waris Hussein has been playing with the viewer's preconceptions. The reason Norah is so watchful and protective over Joel is because he's been known to be unstable in the past, but more specifically, he actively eschews the privileged lifestyle in which Norah wallows (living off of a hefty alimony and incapable of doing anything without her maid). Joel has a pscyhological breakdown and ends up institutionalized, which Norah is quick to blame on the fact that he chooses to live in poverty amongst "those people" (translated: Puerto Ricans) downtown. After he is released, he continues to exhibit bizarre behavior, including speaking in other languages. Soon, his girlfriend ends up dead (a gruesome, yet undeniably artistic set-piece features her naked body lying on the bed in her swanky pad, with her decapitated head dangling above it). The murder match. Could Joel be possessed by the spirit of his dead Puerto Rican friend, who was suspected of similar murders the year before?
The Possession of Joel Delaney was released a year before The Exorcist, and it is nothing like that film or the myriad movies it influenced. Most significantly, The Possession has nothing to do with Christianity. It makes it feel fresh, despite being released in 1972. Other than this year's The Possession, I can't think of many other American possession films that aren't rooted in Christian theology. It's interesting that this movie didn't seem to influence too many other horror films, considering it is one of the first possession movies. And it gets away with a heck of a lot more than you would expect from a 70s movie starring Shirley McLaine. There is a particularly harrowing, gritty sequence involving children that would never fly past the MPAA today. King and McLaine are both wonderful in their roles, making some of the sillier possession/exorcism scenes easier to swallow. Unfortunately, the film is bogged down by typical psychobabble posturing about domineering women (not to mention more freakin' incest--I swear this was not an intentional theme with the October Challenge this October!). Still, it's worth checking-out to see a completely original work in the possession subgenre.
My Rating: 6/10 (ftv)
TOTAL FILMS: 10
FIRST TIME VIEWINGS: 10
