Friday, August 12, 2011

Green is the Color of... oh, Forget It, Just Look at Sinestro!

There's been a lot going on for your humble hosts here at Thrill Power, so please forgive us for our collective radio silence. But things are finally changing, and you should be hearing more from us very soon.

In the meantime, I give you Sinestro. The Green Lantern movie was... well, not very good (in ways that deserve whole posts to themselves), but I did get one thing out of the experience. Before seeing a living, breathing, chiseled-muscles-in-sculpted-spandex version of the character, would I ever before have considered Sinestro... dare I say it? Sexy?


There's just something about that penetrating stare.


Movies do weird things to comic book characters. Cool looks ridiculous and ridiculous looks cool. Food for thought, no?

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Get Me Out of The Church on Time

Mark: This isn't going to be a film review in the conventional sense. A few months back, Stacie Ponder of Final Girl asked her readers to nominate their top twenty horror movies, then tallied the votes and spent SHOCKtober 2010 counting down the results. Coming in at number 240 was an Italian horror flick titled La Chiesa ("The Church"), which netted a whopping three votes.

A couple of months later, now that The Church is available through Netflix's wonderful Watch Instantly service, Ms Ponder has chosen it as her latest Final Girl Film Club selection. Horror mavens throughout the universe are invited to check this obscure curiosity and weigh in with their objective, unbiased opinions.

Except, I guess, for me. I was one of the three people who voted for The Church in the first place, so my task here is probably to explain what the heck I was thinking!

Julie: Don't blame me, I voted for Prince of Darkness! Although we both plugged for Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2, so I guess I can't throw stones, huh?


It would be a guilty pleasure if we felt guilty about it.


Mark: Let's start with the obligatory basics. The Church started out as the third entry in the Demons series, in which people turn into monsters and run amuck with glorious illogic.

Julie: By illogic, I assume you mean the part where the characters in the film-within-a-film offer the only explanation we ever get as to why the people in the theater watching the movie are turning into demons?

Mark: Perhaps it's a sophisticated meditation on the power of art to influence the impressionable and weak-minded. In the same light, we can probably blame the hijinks in The Church on those awesome Bosch-style frescoes. Truly a cautionary tale for these media-saturated times!


Won't somebody please think of the children?


Mark: I adore the original Demons too, not least for its cheerful indifference to explanations and plot, but The Church is a bit more ambitious. There's a historical flashback in which heretic-hunting Teutonic Knights massacre a village full of peasants on spurious charges of witchcraft, then erect a humongous Gothic cathedral over the mass grave. In the present day, meddling scholars dig around in the church basement and unleash some kind of nebulous evil, people start seeing monsters and flipping out, the doors slam shut thanks to an archaic clockwork failsafe mechanism, and mayhem ensues. It's all very pretty, thanks largely to director Michele Soavi (Cemetery Man, The Devil's Daughter), and like most great Italian horror movies it doesn't make a lick of sense.


Whoa! Am I blowing your mind?


Julie: The Beyond makes perfect sense! But were those witchcraft charges really spurious? It's kind of unclear, which is, I think, one of the main charms of this movie.

I mean, does having a cut on your foot shaped like a cross mean you're a witch, or that you stepped on something sharp? Does one hand moving in a pile of dead bodies mean a corpse is coming back to life, or that some poor sucker got thrown onto the trash heap before he was dead yet, like in Ravenous? Maybe that horse slipped and fell into the pit. Maybe religious mania can, if you take it far enough, feel like tripping balls to the people who are experiencing it, and they see all sorts of weird shit. You know, in their minds.

Mark: I do love that slippery vagueness! Unlike the original Demons, the evil seems to have an actual origin, but the nature of that origin is ambiguous. Were the peasants really devil-worshippers, or does the evil originate from the violence of the knights, or from the suppression of the religious authorities? Movies that deal with witchcraft may shed crocodile tears for the poor oppressed pagans, but it usually turns out that they really did have awesome witchy powers, which means the witch-hunters were justified in burning them. This is one of the few cases where the filmmakers have left it genuinely unclear.

Julie: Agreed. Repressive torturing clerics = the forces of good always sat kind of funny with me.

Mark: This seems like a natural trap for horror filmmakers. Unless you're producing a Scooby Doo episode, it's always more exciting to assume that the monsters, demons, and witches are real, even if it validates the excesses of the monster-hunters. Otherwise you're just creating a finger-wagging treatise about religious fanaticism.

Julie: Well, yes. I feel like you used to see more of that in the '60s and '70s. Like in Beneath the Planet of the Apes, where the mutants are worshipping the Bomb. Where have all the social critiques gone?


Oh, the humanity.


Mark: And it's equally unclear whether the demons even exist at all. The previous Demons movies presented the monsters as tangible fact, but in this one, they're seen in fleeting glimpses and feverish hallucinations, and even the awesome apparitions that grace the film's climax are prone to vanish again in the blink of an eye. There's clearly something bad hidden in the vaults, but is this really a story about demonic possession, or ghostly haunting, or just ergot-induced mass hysteria?

Julie: I actually really love the way you never get a particularly good look at the monster effects. I keep thinking, if you'd seen this on a movie screen when if first came out, back when you didn't have the option of backing up or pausing to see if you really saw what you thought you saw... damn, that must've been effective. They used to make movies like that, where your imagination had to fill in the blanks around the, y'know, quickly glimpsed rubber monster.

Kind of like Psycho, now that I think about it. There's no shower-stabbing there until your mind fills it in.

Mark: I'd agree that a lot of modern horror movies suffer from over-exposing their monsters. (Not to mention the original Hellraiser and its pitiful ghoul-on-a-string.) I don't know if that's a universal rule, though, and sometimes it serves the purposes of the story to get a good look at the beastie. But in the case of The Church, the effect of "did I really see that?" is perfect for the occasion. I almost feel bad about spoiling the mood with the following awesome screencap.


Admit it, you need to see this movie.


Mark: Whether they're real or not, the visuals are great. Aside from the awesome creepiness of the cathedral itself, The Church features some wonderful gargoyle monsters, and the sequence where the scheming librarian digs up something sinister from the church basement is every bit as trippy as the equivalent scene in The Keep.

Julie: The Keep is a good reference here. If you've seen that movie, then you'll be well-prepared for similar clouds of music-video style fog.

Mark: You know, Netflix also has The Keep on its instant streaming service. Potential film club pick, hint hint!


No, Evan! Don't go into the light!


Mark: I'm also very fond of the droning, ominous soundtrack, which we can attribute largely to Philip Glass.

Julie: You mean that tinkling repetitive electro track that went on so long that I yelled out, "wow, this sounds just like Philip Glass"?

Mark: I was just looking up info on the soundtrack album, and that sucker is, like, nine minutes long. Amazingly, it seems even longer in the actual movie.

Ah, the eighties... truly a golden age of horror movie soundtracks. Those were the days when Tangerine Dream strode the earth like an orange titan. Will we ever see their like again?

Julie: Don't I wish. These days the best we can hope for is something like the ending theme to The Cottage, where you get heavy metal headbangers thrashing out "Kill kill kill!" Which, don't get me wrong, is awesome.

Mark: And we shouldn't slight the demented banjo strumming from the Ravenous soundtrack. But let's move on before this turns into a list of our favorite horror movie scores.


Not a special effect.


Mark: While I'm cataloguing the things I love about this movie, I can't neglect the wizened old bishop played by Feodor Chaliapin Jr., who seems to spend his spare time hanging around with a pair of creepy cowled statues. Chaliapin also appeared in Dario Argento's Inferno as the alchemical architect Varelli.

Julie: The creepy guy in the wheelchair near the end of the movie? He was good ranter. He rants good here, too.

Mark: I don't know if he actually had any lines in Inferno. I think he did all his acting with his eyebrows.

Julie: Didn't he? I thought I remembered ranting. Or maybe that was just the Mother of Shadows winding up for her big 'DEATH!' screamfest before she turned into a science-class model skeleton in a cape.

We pause to review the relevant sequence from Inferno, and discover that Chaliapin delivers one brief but excellent rant via an electronic voicebox widget that makes him sound like the warbly guy-full-of-bugs from Prince of Darkness.


Cowls never go out of style.


Mark: The character of Varelli in Inferno, incidentally, was modeled on the 20th-century occultist Fulcanelli, author of Mystery of the Cathedrals. Fulcanelli and his book are referenced heavily in The Church, giving the proceedings an extra layer of ominous fake significance. I seem to be a real sucker for this combination of vagueness, creepy atmosphere, and pretentious intimations of unspeakable cosmic truth. It's everything I love about John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness, plus rubber monsters!

Julie: Yes, extra extra points for good use of real-world weirdness to prop up fictional weirdness! This is practically a lost art these days, when people just make up lame legends instead of looking up actual legends, which are always far weirder.

Mark: Yeah, that's a good point. Nowadays, whenever people start up with hokum like "They say that the devil walks the Earth in human form and gets you in the elevator," I just want to yell "Liar!" and throw things at the screen.

Although I haven't read Fulcanelli's book, I assume he didn't say anything about excavating sacks of evil from church basements. But come to think of it, that's probably why Evan the creepy librarian blithely went ahead and dug it up. If he'd only been reading Nostradamus instead, he'd have been properly forewarned about all this demon business.


Maybe he should have checked the appendix.


Julie: It just occurred to me you haven't mentioned the fact that Asia Argento is in this movie.

Mark: You know, I took a look at the Netflix user comments for this movie, and I swear that every single one of them goes on at length about the film debut of 13-year-old Asia. It starts to seem a little pervy after a while, especially when they lavish all this praise on the wide-eyed nymphet and have nothing to say about grown-up babe Barbara Cupisti, who spends much of the movie lounging around in sheer bedwear and eventually humps a gargoyle. Suffice to say that, if you ever wanted to see Dario Argento's teenage daughter getting her mouth washed out with soap, then this is the fetish movie you've been waiting for.


You're very welcome.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Straight From Femizonia and All Out of Bubblegum

As your hosts here at Thrill Power! prepare for San Francisco's upcoming WonderCon, a little dose of classic Marvel action from 1979 to set the mood.

I must say, that George Perez is pretty good at drawing the ol' wrestling holds.


Love's a funny thing


Oh, for the days when superheroes performed reverse chinlocks on each other in order to pontificate about their relationships.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

The Little Prince

Well, I'm probably not the very last person on Earth, but it certainly took me long enough to get around to seeing the new Star Trek. On the plus side, I guess this means I don't have to worry too much about spoilers. So let's dig in!

I admit I found it a little surprising that the creators went to all the trouble of setting up an alternate Trek universe and yet, with one obvious exception, by the end of the movie nothing has really changed. All the familiar cast members are there on the bridge of the Enterprise, and despite his detour into juvenile delinquency, James T. Kirk has been duly installed in the captain's chair. Even if the crew has been assembled somewhat ahead of the original schedule, making them younger and hotter than their classic incarnations, both the movie itself and a certain returning cast member are determined to undo the disruption caused by the villain's blunderings and restore the original status quo.


And they all lived happily ever after.


The goal of the plot, in other words, is to restore Kirk to his proper place as sovereign of the Enterprise, with Spock as his loyal number two. At first, I felt like this was being accomplished with a pretty wanton disregard for established Starfleet protocol (to say nothing of real-world military procedure). I know we're not supposed to think too hard about movie plots these days, but it must be a little dizzying to go from Academy washout, to marooned mutineer, to twentysomething captain of the Federation flagship without taking a break to change your underwear. Yes, it's meant to be fantasy, but I think it didn't really make any sense to me until I figured out what type of fantasy.

So here's my theory: The new Star Trek is actually Cinderella in space.

Say what? Well, consider the basic premise of your standard Disney princess movie: The noble heroine is robbed of her rightful station by the intervention of a scheming witch or jealous stepmother. Recognizing her good heart, magical allies intervene to help her reclaim her birthright. The story ends with a joyous coronation in which the princess is restored to her throne and paired off with her destined soulmate.

I don't want to push my analogy too far here. Sure, Nero's spiky black space octopus is somewhat reminiscent of certain Disney witches. But even though Nero's time travel adventure derails Kirk's predestined Starfleet career and turns him into the Terminator 2-era John Connor, he isn't deliberately trying to ruin our hero's life - he's trying to ruin Spock's life. As for interpreting the Kirk/Spock relationship as a fairytale romance, I'll leave that as an exercise for slash fans.


Maleficent x Ursula = OH NOES!


But you can't have Cinderella without a fairy godmother, can you? And Kirk, as in Sleeping Beauty, actually gets a triple helping. Every time he seems to be in danger of letting his birthright - his destined role as captain of the Enterprise - slip through his fingers, a twinkle-eyed elder pops up to nudge his personal timeline back on track. First it's Captain Pike, pulling strings to get our impoverished Ashenputtel into Starfleet Academy. Then it's Bones McCoy, working some classically half-assed magic transformations to smuggle Kirk aboard the Enterprise. And finally our Special Guest Star, who maps out Kirk's fate in no uncertain terms - right down to his foreordained BFF-ship with the bitchy young Spock - and then arranges a timely bit of interstellar teleportation to get him to the Captain's Ball on time. Beats the heck out of a pumpkin carriage, I'd say!


Hey, is there cilantro in this vaccine?


And so the irritation fades. Sure, catapulting the class clown into the captain's chair is a bit of a slap in the eye to anyone who might have been tempted to take Starfleet seriously. But on the other hand, J.J. Abrams and friends have managed the near impossible: Getting millions of grizzled sci-fi fans to swoon over what amounts to The Little Mermaid with phasers. A nifty magic trick, that.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Fill 'er Up!


Because nothing says "Coming Soon! New Post Here!" like a photograph of a vending machine selling "hot nuts." (I'm also pretty fond of the patriotic backdrop. Because nothing says AMERICA like a vending machine selling "hot nuts." Wouldn't you agree?)

The only sad thing about this picture is that I can't remember for the life of me where I took it. Oh, Hot Nuts, wherefore art thou?

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Unicycle of the Future!


Screw cars! Japanese automaker, robotmaker, and now high-tech unicycle maker Honda's new Personal Mobility Device looks like AWESOMECAKES. I love the folding-bicycle friendliness, the way you steer it by leaning, the 2001: A Space Odyssey-esque pearl white color scheme... I love everything about it. Seriously, you must check out the video demo and CG model that shows how this gadget works. (There are also YouTube videos of dudes in suits trying it out in what must've been quite the fun demonstration meeting.)

Have you ever noticed that the Segway is the vehicle of choice for evil corporate villains in movies? (Check Iron Man if you don't believe me.) Now, can't you just picture a great chase scene in a warehouse with the bad guy on a Segway and the down-with-the-people hero on one of these? Comedy gold.

I wonder what the top speed is?

Paranormal Activity


Waiting in line at midnight in the Castro is a cold experience. At least it was this Thursday, even around the corner from the Castro Theatre (it was a long line), with Orphan Andy's diner serving as a partial windbreak. The preview screening I was there to see turned out to be more of a 1:00 am thing, once all the RSVP lists had been checked and attendees' hands stamped, but inside was a brightly lit full house, an open concession, and the Mighty Wurlitzer, all extremely welcome sights.

Less welcome was the narrative of barefoot, penniless Hollywood pitched in an onstage preshow plea for buzz-creating Tweets and Facebook posts. I can't complain too much, I guess, because the screening itself was free - the modern, less dire equivalent of having to listen to a Bible sermon before you can collect your bowl at the soup kitchen - but for the love of god, I was cold and hungry, it was 1:00 am, and hello, word of mouth is not a new invention. Even if blogging leaves a printed record as opposed to chatter over the water cooler, it's still not (in most cases) a job. If your film deserves buzz, it will get it. Shut up and roll the movie.

The kicker, of course, is that Paranormal Activity really does deserve a lot of word of mouth. It's genuinely scary - jump-in-your-seat, afraid-to-be-home-alone-in-the-dark-after-you-see-it scary - although the preshow trivia quiz presented by a FearNet.com rep possibly presented a bit too much of a behind-the-scenes peek into the pitch meeting (Exorcist? Blair Witch? How about The Exorcist crossed with Blair Witch?). The movie centers a 30-ish white couple living in a two-storey house with leather sofas, a wall-size flatscreen TV, and a pool... uh, remind me again, Hollywood marketing machine, why your poor-me, low-budget, grassroots-please whine feels so insincere?

True, Paranormal Activity IS a small movie by current Hollywood standards, or any standards. There are virtually no special effects, unless you count time-lapse photography, and all the action occurs on a single set. It has a raw, shot-on-video appearance because duh, it's told from the point of view of the main characters filming themselves on video. Expense-wise, we're talking a bare step above one guy and a webcam.

So again, why the cry for help to the audience? Please-buzz-about-this-movie-if-you-want-more-horror-films-like-this? Well, it tells us a lot about Hollywood culture, I guess - is the common wisdom among those who bankroll films really so far off the mark that you have to show them evidence that audiences want, y'know, good films? Without spending millions upon millions on computer graphics? (The trailer emphasizes the audience experience in a way that makes this look like an event film, something you have to see in the theater, which is an argument typically only made for IMAX and big CG-effects movies.) The cynic in me suspects this is all an exercise in audience-blaming - i.e., if we don't provide enough free ink in praise of films we enjoy, then it's our own damn fault if good films don't get made. Charming.

Well, at the risk of playing right into the hands of all this: Paranormal Activity is a good film. It will scare you, and its scares are wisely based more on your imagination - what you don't see rather than what you do - and spooky sounds. It's worth seeing in a theater for the sound reason alone (I saw Blair Witch on video instead of in the theater because the venue in our area was always sold out, and I think much of what made that movie work was its sound design, which does not have anywhere near the impact on home video). Aside from that, and the shared audience experience of the screams and moans and seat-jumps, you just simply will want company when you see it. It's the sort of movie you really would not want to watch alone. Or, for that matter, watch with a full audience in a theater and then go home to be alone in an empty apartment, like I did.

Either way, you'll probably sleep with the lights on. And then blog about it.

I feel like such a tool, but it really was good. See it, horror fans.

Addendum: A rewatch at a lightly populated matinee showing in a local multiplex venue provided a totally different audience reaction. Namely laughter, and catcalls of "That was stupid!" after the shock ending, which reminded an unimpressed Mark of the opening credits of Criss Angel: Mindfreak. The moral of this story? The venue matters, and what's scary and exciting in the middle of the night with an audience happily ready to be scared can look like plodding, badly shot video footage by the light of day. YMMV.