Archive for Dario Argento

Don’t grab that scabby hand…

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 23, 2021 by dcairns

…it belongs to Mister Sniff-‘n’-Tell, it belongs to the Candyman. So sang David Bowie in his least cool phase, as frontman of Tin Machine, in an anti-drugs song called Crack City, which recycles the ahem, hook, from Wild Thing and is quite catchy, but still un-cool.

I mention it because it mentions the Candyman (as does Sweet Transvestite from ROCKY HORROR) and because in the new CANDYMAN reboot or rehook, protag Yahya Abdul-Mateen II has a scabby hand. I kept expecting him to sprout a hook, which might have been cool, but he doesn’t. If this guy is getting a hook, he’ll have to do it the traditional way.

The scabby hand gives us some of the most visceral and wince-making stuff in Nia DaCosta’s revision of Bernard Rose’s 1992 film of Clive Barker’s short story The Forbidden — one moment is borrowed from Cronenberg’s THE FLY and got the strongest reaction from us of anything in there. Because CANDYMAN is quite a good film, but we were never actually scared. It’s made with great skill, the performances are good, it has ideas, and the use of colour and architecture (the title sequence!) is beautiful — a touch of Argento, who will also be all over A RAINY NIGHT IN SOHO, coming to your screens soon. Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe’s score is lovely, though close enough to Philip Glass’s original in essence that it feels like Glass should get a credit somewhere. (Rose’s unconventional choice of Glass was one of his smartest choices.)

I’m not sure why we didn’t feel fear. Candyman mainly kills white people and we fit that demographic. He mainly kills unsympathetic white people, or people we barely know, but that needn’t be an overwhelming problem… I thought at first the film was going to be too hurried, that it would fail to spend the anxious time anticipating its kills, something Argento used to be so good at. In fact, the movie has a pretty good command of pace, but it doesn’t protract things to that ridiculous level where even though you may feel (a) this is silly (b) I don’t believe it (c) I don’t care if this person dies (d) I’ve seen gory deaths before, you still curl up a bit and want to cover your eyes. Argento could do all that, and part of it was having the courage to linger on things beyond the point where sane judgement would tell you to quicken it up just a little.

I always found Candyman a bit of a messy guy. His origin story just piles everything on — dismemberment, the meat hook added by his persecutors (WHY?), bees, and burning. It gets les disturbing the more effed-up details are thrown in. And then his M.O. is just to show up, when summoned, and kill everybody. The attempts to give him some more complex motivation got the first film into a fankle, and it kind of does the same here. There are a lot of threads in this, which is better than having too few but not as good as having the right number. Why do we get a flashback to Teyonnah Parris’s father’s suicide? Does this connect to something in the first film I’ve forgotten? Because it connects to nothing at all in this one.

One more thing that still kinda bothers me, like Columbo. DaCosta and co-writers Jordan Peele and Win Rosenfeld introduce a couple of likeable gay characters right off the bat, and I found myself wondering about what their fates would be. It seemed obvious that you couldn’t bring in sympathetic gay characters and then graphically butcher them — everyone would hate that, and rightly so. You couldn’t even kill just one of them. Unless you had other gay characters who would survive as an intact couple. We’re not at the point yet where gay characters can enjoy an equal right of becoming splatter fodder.

The solution to this that occurred to me is that you could ENDANGER these characters — that would get the audience really tense. Not only because we like them (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett and Kyle Kaminsky are the film’s most appealing characters) but because we would know that murdering them would be a critical error. The film could actually play with our fear of the story going wrong (as it does in the original for various reasons I can’t quite recall — I just remember feeling it went off the rails somewheres). It’s mostly so assured we don’t feel that, and when it does go wrong (a nice character turns out to be a bad crazy person, but also a kind of narrative cul-de-sac who robs the protag of the chance to go to Hell on his own choices) it does so without warning.

The trouble with Candyman is there’s no endangering while he’s around — he always gets his man, or woman, until the end of the movie, when it seems to break its own rules. Maybe that’s my fundamental problem: when you KNOW the monster is going to kill everyone he meets, suspense is lessoned. Hard to get fond too of corpses-in-waiting, even though that’s what we all are, if you think about it.

…and on the second day…

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , on August 27, 2020 by dcairns

Started to feel I wasn’t getting the most out of the online Il Cinema Ritrovato. This may in part have been because I wasn’t watching any films. But you see, I have a DVD of THE GRAPES OF WRATH so watching it streaming didn’t make sense to me, even though it’s well overdue a watch. So I’ve been looking at shorts, documentaries, interviews, masterclasses…

By some odd quirk the festival is streaming an interview with Dario Argento and a session on the restoration of FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET, but not the film itself. For that you have to be in Bologna. The Argento interview was unsatisfactory from almost every point of view — a camera in Bologna filmed an auditorium with a screen on which you could see the Maestro and his interviewer, fuzzily projected, neither one of them being present, while a simultaneous translation talked over both of them. So we couldn’t really see Dario or hear him, and we got the gist of his words but he didn’t seem to have anything exciting to say.

His film, however, is very exciting, even in the unrestored version I have access to. I can’t think why I always assumed it was inferior to THE CAT O’ NINE TAILS and BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE, it’s a worthy companion. The plot is completely barmy, full of unexplained lunatic touches, as when a blackmailing housemaid, waiting in a park for her victim, flees into an ever-narrowing cobwebbing passage. I admit I’m not personally familiar with Turin’s parks and recreation areas, but I have a hunch the shaggy DA is stretching verisimilitude here, as on a medieval rack.

We liked the idea of the gay private detective (Jean-Pierre Marielle), but of course he’s played in a wildly stereotypical, swishy way — yet this was still progressive at the time, by the admittedly demented standards of the Italian genre cinema. He’s allowed to make a brief plea for tolerance, to solve the case, and to win pathos. And the killer has a traumatic backstory which imparts a little sympathy, perhaps more than the “hero” gets — the sullen-faced Michael Brandon is quite good, though, managing to maintain a core of credibility in the midst of some of Argento’s more head-scratching dialogue and characterisation.

The main thing, though, is that Argento has an extravagant visual idea to explore in nearly every scene, and they’re mostly cunning rather than just sucky. There’s something wonderfully eerie about the hero’s darkened apartment with the trees outside brightly floodlit and sussurating in a phantasmal fashion. This lad has promise.

*

An interview of the Taviani Bros under a tree did not elevate me, especially when long swathes of it were just the Bros staring blankly into camera as Gideon Bachman attempted to formulate a protrated thought.

My chum Craig McCall delivered a detailed exposition on dye-transfer Technicolor written by Robert Hoffman, which worked better than Dario’s appearance because Craig was actually in the room.

A session on the restoration of A BOUT DE SOUFFLE and THE ELEPHANT MAN offered little for non-pixel-pushers, but it was good to hear that David Lynch insisted on his HDR restoration being performed with a cinema screen as reference.

And then at last there was a PROPER film doc, Cyril Leuthy’s MELVILLE, LE DERNIER SAMOURAI, which weirdly discounts BOB LE FLAMBEUR and LES ENFANTS TERRIBLE entirely and claims LE DOULOS as Melville’s first thriller, but is otherwise rivetting. It gets by with only sparse clips from the films, but just enough, and with a terrific wealth of archive footage of the man himself, and good new interviews with family members, Volker Schloendorff and Taylor Hackford. The stars are curiously absent, but the whole thing has a nice jazzy, nocturnal feel very suited to JPM’s cinema, and among the memories are striking moments — JPM screaming at Lino Ventura, captured on 1/4inch audio tape, and Delon, interviewed shortly after (a) falling out with Melville and (b) Melville’s death, talking about how they need to have a break before working together again. With extraordinary facial expressions, cognitive dissonance pulling the muscles this way and that — he KNOWS the man is dead, but he’s still considering working with him again after a suitable interval…

“You can’t love cinema without being a child,” says one of the assorted Grumbachs. Dario would agree, I think.

FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET stars Dempsey; Margareta Nikolajevna; renowned curator Jacques Saunier; La regina di Napoli; Mme Quentin; Fanny Hill; and Bambino, the left hand of the Devil!

Late Entry Wounds

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 7, 2019 by dcairns
Image from JONATHAN (1970)

There will, clearly, be several follow-ups to our Project Fear blogathon, not counting Brexit itself. The fact that the general election results, which will go some way to settling the issue, will come in on Friday the thirteenth is pretty irresistible.

First of these slight reprises comes from me old mucker Scout Tafoya — five sparking video essays on subjects as close to our collective hearts as a sturdy stake. European horror, European-influenced horror, and Euro-genre stuff. Float off into Scout’s atmospheric ruminations