I find these covers absolutely fascinating. Drawn in a style that reminds me of Soviet propaganda posters, they feature a young boy and his faithful robot. I found out that the manga and the following anime inspired the creators of Akira, Tetsuo, and lastly Guillermo del Toro’s Pacific Rim.
Tetsujin 28-gō (Japanese: 鉄人28号) was a 1956 manga written and illustrated by Mitsuteru Yokoyama. It features the adventures of Shotaro Kaneda, a young schoolboy (usually seen in his school uniform) who controlls a giant robot named Tetsujin 28, built by his late father as a secret weapon for the Japanese military during World War II. While the robot was made for evil purposes, the boy uses it to protect peace and fight crime.
The manga was later adapted into four anime TV series, a Japanese television drama and two films. Released in 1963, the first series was among the first Japanese anime series to feature a giant robot. It was later released in America as Gigantor, so some of you may be familiar with Tetsujin by that name.
What fascinates me is this grotesque imagery: a small doll-like innocent boy wearing school uniform and a feeling of overall destruction that follows him. He uses a number of guns that don’t look futuristic or toy-like, but like real gear. It’s something totally unacceptable in today’s cartoons for kids. And this was an adventurous comic made for children. Of course it was not uncommon at that time. Violence, explosions and robots fighting look so menacing here – and no wonder, as the author still had in mind the atrocities of WWII.
I won’t recommend watching the series or reading the manga itself unless entertainment aimed at children is what you like (no judgment on my part). However, the covers are so beautiful and bizarre that I would like one to hang on my wall for sure.
What is this monstrous It from this movie? Can it be that it symbolizes something more than what we see on screen? I think so. And let me say this first: for me It doesn’t stand for any physical disease.
I’m going to serve you spoiler avalanche/movie analysis here. If you really want to see It Follows, an independent American horror that both critics and viewers admire, watch it first and then return here for my take on its meaning. But if you’ve seen it or are only mildly interested in it, read the rest of this post.
My first impression wasn’t positive. The movie left me indifferent. “Good idea, but weak execution, and please, enough with these nostalgic shots,” I thought. But I kept thinking about this movie for days afterwards. It is visible that its director, David Robert Mitchell, knows the horror genre and his craft. The cinematography and the script both suggest the depth that reaches behind the simple tale of survival. Then it hit me and I invented my own theory of It. “Meh? More like brilliant!”, were my second thoughts. I’m going to divide them into sections.
Sex is deadly – but not immediately
The movie seemingly follows the familiar horror pattern: everyone who has sex, dies. Jay, a pretty and fragile-looking college student, leads a boring but seemingly satisfactory life in the suburbs of Detroit. Her days seem to consist of sitting around with her sister and close friends, drifting in a small swimming pool, and going out from time to time. Her new boyfriend, Hugh, takes her to the local vintage theater and then starts to act strangely, apparently seeing people that aren’t there. Another night they have sex and then Jay finds out about her boyfriend’s true intentions – he wanted to pass something on to her.
Hugh kidnaps her, straps her to the wheelchair and explains to the terrified girl that she wouldn’t believe him if she didn’t see It with her own eyes. They wait till a naked woman suddenly appears, heading straight towards immobile Jay. Hugh takes her from the spot and says she must sleep with someone else to pass it further, otherwise It will kill her and then return to kill him and the persons before him. This deadly chain cannot be stopped. It walks, instead of running, so you can escape. It can look like anybody, including someone you know.
Time doesn’t matter
The characters seem to exist in the strange world between different eras. We get the objects, clothes, and even hairstyles from 70s, 80s and 90s mixed with mobile devices and talk of the present. This premise isn’t explained. We don’t get to know that the main characters are, for example, collectors of vintage objects. We just have to accept this modern world as realistic when it obviously isn’t. All those time inconsistencies can be seen as tributes to horrors. Especially, Halloween (1978) keeps getting mentioned in reviews. During the interviews the director said he had wanted the movie to be difficult to place in time. My conclusion is that time doesn’t matter – It follows in the same manner in every decade.
The movie begins with a familiar “we don’t know what’s happening but it’s creepy” take. I will describe it because it keeps getting omitted in other reviews, even though it sends some important clues right away. A frightened out of her wits girl runs out of her house wearing silk shorts and tank top pajamas. The scenery is a quiet suburban neighborhood in the early morning. She dismisses a neighbor’s and her father’s offers of help and looks desperately around. She runs back to her house, only to return again with car keys, jump in the car and drive ahead. When it’s dark we see her phoning her father on the desolate beach, crying and telling him that she loves him. Cut to the next morning: her mutilated corpse is lying on the same beach. Later we learn about It and may deduct that the girl knew It was chasing her and was going to kill her.
OK, it all sounds probable within the horror genre. Now look at her shoes. Not only are they high heels, they are stilettos (about 5 inches high at least). She would be better off running barefoot. Yes, they are very flattering. But they are also any woman’s last choice when it comes to running. Now the question remains, do we believe the director is an idiot for deciding such an outfit was appropriate? Or do we witness another objectification of female body which must look flattering at all times? I would answer “no” to both these suggestions.
Although in the movie there are numerous shots that dwell upon the beauty of Jay or her teenage sister, the camera never seems predatory. Later in the movie the director got a wonderful opportunity for exploitative shots of the protagonist, as she decides to have sex with three men on the boat she sees in the distance. Jay gets into the water. Cut: she drives a car and her hair is wet. Only this subtle clue tells us what happened. Many directors would jump on the opportunity to show a foursome, but here it is unnecessary and I’m glad Mitchell recognized that.
So if the director isn’t just objectifying the female bodies, why the high heels? Notice the color. Red. They sexualize the girl’s appearance and create a stark contrast with the suburbs, her white sleepwear and daddy’s girl image. You can read this scholarly article about red shoes. The shoes point to the facts that: a) we shouldn’t trust the decorations and think rationally about the characters’ behavior (e.g. wonder who would run in high heels or try to shoot at the invisible monster) and b) the whole movie is about the conflict between characters’ personalities and their repressed subconscious feelings.
Who do you see as It? Those you don’t want to.
The whole reason I’m dealing with this movie here is the monster’s appearance which is always very grotesque and dissociated from the surroundings. Let’s look at the forms that It takes and where they appear.
A naked woman in the deserted building.
An elderly woman wearing a nightgown resembling a hospital gown in Jay’s college.
Jay’s best female friend, Yara, on the beach that Jay and her friends (including Yara) were enjoying themselves.
A woman who looks like a rape victim, with breasts half-exposed and bruised face, who pees on the floor of Jay’s kitchen.
A naked middle-aged man on the roof of Jay’s home.
An extremely tall man in Jay’s bedroom.
A screaming malnourished kid on the aforementioned beach.
A girl in a nightgown (that is probably the girl from the beginning of the movie) on the road from the beach.
And finally, Jay’s dad (whom we spotted previously only in a photograph) near the swimming pool.
These are the forms that It takes for Jay (these may not be all, as I could forget some of them).
When Jay decides to sleep with Greg to pass the curse, a few days later she witnesses two forms of It following Greg. One is Greg himself in pajamas going into his house. The second is Greg’s mother in an undone nightgown, exposing one of her breasts, knocking violently on the door of Greg’s bedroom. Greg was shown throughout the movie as a womanizer. Jay admits later on she already slept with him in high school. But we can be sure that there was one woman he wouldn’t want to see storming his bedroom at night – his mother. Jay looks mortified as It in form of Greg’s mother kills him while rubbing her crotch against his.
From these images I draw the following conclusion: what Hugh told Jay is not true (just as his name was false), It doesn’t just look like anybody. It personifies one’s deepest fears and repressed sexual desires. Truth be told, if I’m right, it can be seen as the movie’s weakness – Jay shouldn’t just be afraid of anybody passing by, only people that look familiar or/and out of place. Hugh messes up the picture because he keeps seeing girls in normal clothes (yellow dress in the theater), but that can also be a part of his fears and desires.
No one in the movie wants to tell the others what he or she sees as It. The characters subconsciously understand that this would reveal too much about themselves, about the parts of their minds that they don’t want others to know. When Jay’s sister asks “What do you see?”, Jay answers “I don’t want to tell you” while looking at their father trying to attack her.
As to It appearing as Yara – at this moment Jay is looking at this very friend in a swim-suit. Could this mean that there exists an unwanted repressed desire on Jay’s part that It feels and feeds upon?
My interpretation is very Freudian, thus some people may reject it. But as my American Literature Professor used to say, “Freud’s ideas are dated and proved to be untrue. But they are excellent when it comes to analyzing literature and they can still be applied as a literary theory device.” I will stretch it to movies as well. It doesn’t matter if we agree with Freud, we can still spot his ideas in the works of art.
But not all forms of It are sexual. Sexual danger and rape associations appear around Jay’s home (we see both predator and victim figures). But what about the elderly lady? Does she symbolize something sexual? For me no, she is a personification of even deeper fears: the fear of aging, disease and death. No young girl wants to be reminded while wasting hours of her precious youth in the classroom that one day she may look like this. The lady appears crazy walking in a hospital-like gown. She also has knee pads. What kind of scary ghost wears knee pads? Only the one inside your head.
The only It form that I don’t know what to make of is the scary kid on the beach. I hope someone can give a possible explanation of his appearance (other than, well, failure of the script). Edit: thanks to this interesting video I found out that the boy is the kid that regularly spies on Jay. Kudos to the author for close watching, although I disagree with his main idea that It is a demon.
If It is a collection of a person’s repressed fears, one cannot escape It. You can run but It will always find you. Dare I say that the movie could be entitled “Id Follows”?”*
To quote the trivia section of IMDb, the director clarified that “the ‘monster’ could potentially board a plane in order to follow the cursed person” and “neither a condom nor same-gender sex would stop the monster and the curse would still be passed.” It suits my theory well.
If the curse is your own mind, you obviously cannot escape it.
What others think
One interpretation I found (read here) is close to mine, but it states that Jay’s father and Greg’s mother appearances suggest previous sexual abuse of their children. While it is possible (Greg recognizes the angry knocking as his mother’s!), I would say that imaginative fear can be as strong as real trauma.
I see others interpreting It as STD (come on, so simple?), fear of sex, reminder of sexual abuse or even adulthood that the movie characters fear (interesting thought). Others see It as simply the personification of death or rather Death that follows us all. Many think that It takes its form after its own victims. That’s why they are often wearing sleepwear – they got attacked at night.
I think it shows the movie strength that we are allowed numerous interpretations that may not even contradict each other. Maybe It is a demon that takes form of one’s subconscious fears and desires? Or maybe It stands just for STD and I am writing the longest post on my blog about the movie that just warns teenagers against sex with strangers? Even if the director is a skillful manipulator that tricked me into believing that his artsy movie is something more, I would still recommend seeing the film.
Any movie that forces you to think and wonder is worth your time. Even if I have to stand another cinematography based mostly on wide-angle camera lenses or another electronic score that “builds an atmosphere” (what it really does for me: it precedes It with basses just like The Imperial March signalized Darth Vader’s appearance)**, I would still watch something similar to It Follows just because it made me think so much about its premise.
*Muahahaha! … *cough* You know, just like Freud’s concept of Id? *exits smoothly*
** Half-serious appeal to filmmakers: there is only one “Drive.” Only one.
The world is beautiful. The weather is nice. You have some spare time. You keep watching Japanese men transforming themselves into gory cyborgs.
Yes, that’s me. And I’m preparing my conference paper on Tetsuo. Academia at its best.
As a lover of the grotesque, I had to spot this irony. The sun is shining through my windows, and here I am, shutting them.
Notice how horrors are always advertised before Halloween. It’s like you only watch horror movies that very night. Maybe an average person does it this way, treating it like I treat dressing Christmas trees. You don’t dress one in July, that would be crazy!
With horrors, fall and winter seem like the best seasons to watch them. Cold weather, gray faces, early darkness…
No! While the overall mood outside may discourage you from scary movies at first, when a film is captivating enough, you will watch it. It doesn’t matter what happens outside your horror zone, it will be only you and your screen, you and your book.
Or you can go out sometimes, as you can witness by a few photos I made two days ago. I’m an amateur photographer, but I will post some from time to time. They feel more personal than stock photos. And I have fun inventing captions underneath.
I hope you are spending your summer doing what you like, however seasonal it is. :)
Nothing bad can happen to him who carries the shield of faith.
I have a soft spot for titles that form complete sentences. A strong title very often provides a memorable plot and powerful characters. Such is the case with the German movie “Nothing Bad Can Happen” (original title “Tore tanzt”) from 2013.
The plot bears similarities to many recent torture movies that told stories of domestic abuse and horrible deeds done behind closed doors. Yet it is strikingly different because of its protagonist, Tore, who is a Jesus freak, a punk, and a modern saint. Or is he?
To quote IMDb plot summary (written by the movie first-time director Katrin Gebbe herself!):
The young Tore seeks in Hamburg a new life among the religious group called The Jesus Freaks. When he by accident meets a family and helps them to repair their car, he believes that a heavenly wonder has helped him. He starts a friendship with the father of the family, Benno. Soon he moves in with them at their garden plot, not knowing what cruelty is there to come.
I admit I watched the movie just because of its title, so I didn’t know even that. And I would add EXTREME cruelty in this description.
I like movies that break stereotypes. Here seeing two young men in punk clothes, smiling and talking about their faith in Jesus, calling themselves Jesus freaks, I immediately assumed them to be the bad ones. “Yep, we know such young believers. Soon they will kill someone with these fanatic smiles on their faces,” I thought.
No, the most crystal clear character in the whole movie is Tore, one of the youngsters. Angelic, blue-eyed, blonde-haired and slim, he has a pure soul and honest intentions.
It’s rare to see such strong, pure faith depicted in modern cinema. The movie proves why. As the punk preacher (Jesus Freaks commune consists only of such individuals) reminds the audience in the beginning, Jesus taught us to turn the other cheek, but it is very difficult to do so. The problem is that Tore is really capable of doing so. He strongly believes that because of this and his faith “nothing bad can happen” to him. This sounds fascinating to me. What if one person was truly capable of always turning the other cheek? Would we call it masochism or martyrdom? In today’s culture which perceives one’s well-being as an important value, Tore appears to be an imbecile. Who, in the age of “healthy egoism” and assertiveness, would willingly suffer if one can avoid it?
Here we have an extremely passive young male who consciously chooses this strategy because of his religious belief. This movie can be challenging because being so passive is usually connected to female characters. And even young female characters nowadays are meant to be assertive and able to fight for their own.
Without my faith I would have nothing.
Benno, the force of total nihilism and evil in the movie, at once recognizes Tore’s good nature. We are surprised that he allows him so readily into his life, providing him food and place to sleep. But soon we realize that Benno is like the proverbial devil, he cannot exist without his opposition.
The movie features extreme humiliation, violence, and harm, both physical and psychological. Tore’s goodness brings to life the worst human instincts possible – extreme sadism and perversion. He provokes the seemingly good citizens to become beasts. Step by step, they treat him like a slave, an animal, and then an object that can be destroyed.
I’m abused and yet not killed. I’m dying, and yet I live on. I own nothing, and yet possess everything.
At the same time, the movie is not a horror, all events are shown in a realistic, down-to-earth way. Even the religious vision of the protagonist gets a logical explanation, being only a sickly hallucination.
An interesting character is Benno’s wife who at first appears to be a victim who allows abuse of others because she is terrorized herself. While her passiveness wouldn’t make her less guilty, but would be partly justified, later we find out that at times she enjoys sadistic tortures just as much as Benno. She is fully aware of what’s happening and decides to either ignore or take part in it when she pleases. She is as evil as Benno, but even more hypocritical. The actress playing her, Annika Kuhl, portrays her nature in a very subtle way.
Yet the power of this movie lies in the fact that I never felt even for one moment that Tore deserves any of it, that he somehow provoked his abusers with his passive behavior. It would be very easy to shrug the movie with a simple “if you are weak, the strong will use you” Darwinist statement. But the movie makes me believe that Tore has good intentions and pure heart. He decides to turn the other cheek not because he enjoys suffering or is afraid, but because his faith is the only thing that keeps him alive. He prays desperately “I understand that Benno is the test for me, ” but he does not enjoy his victim status. The only time he stands up against Benno it is not for himself but for Sanny, Benno’s daughter and the only person Tore has romantic feelings for.
The bond between Sanny and Tore is a truly beautiful concept in this extremely dark world. At first hostile towards “a religious freak,” the girl learns to trust him and rely on him. Their time spent together shows child-like, joyful possibilities. Sanny always tries to protect Tore, even though he realizes that he should be the one to defend her. Their inability to ultimately help each other constitutes a tragedy. Rarely a relationship of unhappy lovers (here Platonic) moved me so much.
For me it’s a Southern Gothic movie that was made in Germany – this shows that some genres exceed the boundaries that literary theory and history invented. The whole plot could be Flannery O’Connor’s story. In fact, I’m almost certain that the creators of this film had to know some of her works. Or at least William Faulkner.
I think that this movie can be very easily misunderstood if one is not familiar with Southern Gothic aesthetic. Certain ideological bias, delusional and strong-minded characters are the core of this genre. Therefore even if the plot seems realistic and the characters’ behavior doesn’t, it all fits perfectly well into the convention.
I enjoyed the movie very much (even though it’s a heartbreaking stuff!), but as someone who ate her teeth on Flannery O’Connor and Truman Capote, I can be a bit biased.
The film ends with an optimistic note that not everything is lost and there is still hope. Just like the three parts of the movie: “Faith”, “Love” and “Faith” state. The order is not accidental. There is always hope even in the darkest place, however cliché it sounds. But why do the good ones have to suffer?
The very end is extremely powerful, no matter how we interpret it. Every viewer interprets himself who won the battle.
I think that this movie can be interesting to both believers and non-believers, not because it presents a standard view at faith, but because it challenges it.
But the very last image destroyed me completely. A simple caption: “Based on true events.”
So much for unrealistic characters.
The movie was criticized by many when it first appeared at Cannes. I’m not surprised, but I’m not following the crowd in this instance. At the same time it won a few awards for its young director, Katrin Gebbe. It’s a brave work, better than most Southern Gothic movies (even if Gebbe didn’t try to make one). As a lover of grotesque, I was delighted. But this time the grotesque is not funny. This is the very dark side of grotesque, similarly important, but harder to swallow.
I’m back with new theme design. How do you like it? I have some fresh ideas. More posts soon!
There are obviously symbolic movies. There are realistic movies. And there is Borgman.
This is a weird and complex film. Shot with a stunning precision, it puzzles and asks for explanations. I wholeheartedly recommend it but only if you dare to see something new. I can safely say that I’ve watched a lot of movies in my lifetime, but I can think of few movies to compare Borgman with. I realize it can be a daring experience.
The storyline presented on IMDb already signalizes problems with describing what the movie is about.
„A vagrant enters the lives of an arrogant upper-class family, turning their lives into a psychological nightmare in the process.”
On the one hand it is true, that’s what happens in the movie. On the other hand, it’s like saying Moby Dick is about hunting one white whale. It’s true, right? And every American literature scholar would tear you to pieces for saying so.
The only similar movie that comes to my mind is a French movie Hors Satan (Outside Satan) from 2011 which is the movie that I watched with awe, not comprehending fully what was going on. I was like “meh” when it ended, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Yet while the protagonist of Hors Satan can be interpreted as the force of good, the title character of Borgman is definitely the force of evil.
The movie that I cannot compare Borgman with and which should immediately come to one’s mind after reading that IMDb synopsis is Funny Games (I watched both versions). Funny Games also tells a story of a privileged white family who is terrorized by unexpected, at first gentle, guests. And their house is also surrounded by the woods. But while Haneke’s movie(s) are naturalistic visions (with grotesque overtones), Borgman is all about grotesque.
Who is Borgman? His name is Camiel, but firstly he presents himself as Anton to the rich couple. The husband, Richard, becomes aggressive on the spot and the wife becomes attached to a strange man. The wife hides him in the gardener’s house. The children accept “the magician” without any protest. The woman, Marina, gradually lets him come nearer and nearer herself and the children.
It is apparent from the first scenes that Borgman is neither a common bum, nor an illusion. I will try to explain why by describing a very European first few minutes (I use European as a compliment here). A man is dressing up, gun included, eating a herring straight from a jar, and fetching his dog; a priest is saying mass; another man is sharpening a long metal stick. The three man meet, the priest also has a gun. Then we see a wild-looking man sleeping in the dark. This is Borgman. He hears something. He gets up and uses the periscope to see the three men walking through the forest with the dog. Now we know he sleeps in the hole in the woods. He uses his cellphone (I’m already laughing at this moment) but no one picks up. He starts packing his things quickly. But the man with the stick already starts to ruin Borgman’s hideout. The priest takes an axe and starts chopping the ground. But Borgman already escaped, because he obviously knows the forest best. He runs to warn two other vagrants, also sleeping in single beds hidden underground, that they are in danger. He is angry at one of them, Ludwig, that he didn’t pick up the phone. He walks out of the forest.
Seeing Borgman walking to the gas station, trying to pretend he is a perfectly normal citizen, I already knew I will love this movie.
Borgman operates smoothly with a band of similarly odd individuals. They are all masters of disguise and deceit. But we don’t know much about them, except the fact that they like to watch TV silently in each house they have taken over. They form a group that could be a successful gang, having in mind its potential members’ inclination to murder and corpse hiding.
The movie is very funny at times, but it’s a laugh at the absurdity of things happening, not because we enjoy the suffering of the couple (or maybe we do?).
It’s also a satire on xenophobia, middle-class hypocrisy, hidden sexism.
– I feel so guilty. We have it so good. We are fortunate. And the fortunate must be punished.
– Marina darling, that is nonsense. We were born in the West and the West happens to be affluent. We can’t help it.
The wilderness takes over the house. The father reads fairy tales to his children from the book. The magician tells them a scary fairy tale which he knows by heart. Their father tells them a fantasy, Borgman tells them about his world.
The movie plays with tribal and Biblical motifs. Borgman is a Christian demon (or angel – Samiel could mean Samael, the Angel of Death), a beast from his story or a pagan shaman.
I won’t tell you how this spectacle of ridiculous violence and terror ends, you have to see it for yourself. My only complaint is that the story drags in the middle, but I can forgive that, given the movie’s slow nature.
Jan Bijvoet as Borgman is totally fascinating to watch. He shows his power in almost every scene he appears. I also liked Jeroen Perceval whose task of playing the sordid Richard was more difficult. He managed to add depth to his character.
Some people say Borgman is a horror movie. According to Noël Carroll, a horror is a movie with the monster, the Other which is a) scary b) disgusting and c) fascinating.
I’ve read Carroll’s Philosophy of Horror for my studies recently, and it certainly influenced my thinking about the horror genre for a moment.
If Borgman, with his superhuman abilities, is not human, I think that even Carroll would agree he is a monster.
Is the couple guilty? The wife feels guilty, the husband doesn’t, the children are innocent. And Borgman does what he does best and probably did before the existence of nice comfortable houses and TV. He brings chaos, anarchy and destruction.
Nature vs. man is the main conflict in the movie in my opinion. Notice how the couple tries to tame the wilderness with their tidy garden while the forest is just a few steps away.
Naivety of men is another. It’s often hard to tell whether this is stupidity or goodness, but the problem is that Borgman and his companions gain trust easily when they should never be trusted. All it takes is a smooth lie, a clean shave and a set of decent clothes to be taken for “one of us”.
I liked the movie very much, as you can tell. It was Dutch candidate for the Oscars, it didn’t get nominated. I cannot tell I’m surprised. It was nominated for the Palme d’Or instead. It didn’t get it. Again, I’m not surprised. The awards rarely go to movies that dare to be different, to have an unspecified genre, to feature protagonists whose motifs are not understandable. I don’t give awards, I just run this humble blog about grotesque. I’ve got a feeling Borgman will be on my 2015 best-watched list.
Calm down, it’s not another summary of what happened in 2014. I want to share with you a few lists of movies and books that I found important in the previous year. I don’t care about keeping up-to-date with new releases, so it’s going to be the summary of what I actually saw and read in 2014. I think it’s not so much about creating such a post, but about revealing your interests and taste in the process.
I never used so many pictures on this blog. And there are two embedded videos. Let the visual craziness begin!
I also decided to keep things chronologically unless you see numbers. The numbers matter then.
Movie that surprised me the most
Gösta Berlings saga (1924)
I expected a boring but necessary for my movie education experience. I watched a gripping and extremely entertaining historical romance that does not stop its pace for 185 minutes. I cannot recommend it enough for every silent movie fan.
Movie that every blogger seems to rave over and I couldn’t stand
It totally did not appeal to my taste. It’s not grotesque, but quirky. Nothing bad with quirky, just don’t expect me to like it. Let’s leave it at that because I have only bad things to say about “Frank”.
Three masterpieces that prove Japanese movies are simply fearless
Koroshiya 1 (Ichi the Killer) (2001)
Tetsuo (Tetsuo, the Iron Man ) (1989)
Movies I have to see again to fully appreciate
Pafekuto buru (Perfect Blue) (1997)
Papurika (Paprika) (2006)
If you want to know why, just listen to this great song from Paprika soundtrack and try not to go crazy in the process.
Sometimes too much awesomeness is too much to handle. By the way, Inception is said to be an imperfect copy of Paprika.
Movies I recommend
Prestuplenie i nakazanie (Crime and Punishment) (1970)
Flannery O’Connor – The Violent Bear It Away (1960)
Thomas Pynchon – The Crying of Lot 49 (1966)
Bestsellers I recommend
Kathryn Stockett – The Help (2009)
Gillian Flynn – Gone Girl (2012)
The most entertaining book
Boris Akunin – The Winter Queen (1998)
A skillfully crafted mystery novel that successfully imitates 19th-century style of writing. Very funny at times. And full of surprises. I think I will read more of Erast Fandorin’s adventures soon.
The best fantasy series
Michael J. Sullivan – The Riyria Revelations (2008-2012)
I just ended “The Emerald Storm” (which is book #4 out of 6). I hope for even more action and drama in two last books. And if I won’t have enough of the adventures of two rogues who always end up in troubles (and political intrigues), the author also wrote two prequels.
The best gritty books
Robert Penn Warren – All the King’s Men (1946)
Hubert Selby, Jr. – Last Exit to Brooklyn (1964)
James Dickey – Deliverance (1970)
The best academic read
Noël Carroll – The Philosophy of Horror, or Paradoxes of the Heart (1990)
I think it deserves a post on its own.
The best books I read in 2014
Thomas Pynchon – The Crying of Lot 49 (1966)
Saul Bellow – Herzog (1964)
E. L. Doctorow – Ragtime (1975)
Hubert Selby, Jr. – Last Exit to Brooklyn (1964)
Flannery O’Connor – The Violent Bear It Away (1960)
These five books are so good, no short descriptions could give them justice. They all happen to be classics now, so I think you will find them in your local library. All are worth your time. I own three copies out of five at this point.
You may notice the discrepancy between movies and books in this post. What can I say? I read 60 books in 2014, but many of these are simply OK, neither so good I can recommend them, nor so bad I should warn you against them.
I drew a few conclusions after writing this post.
I seem to cherish great movies with serial killers/murderers/troubled people as main characters.
I breathe the 1960s air. At least in terms of books.
I respect Japanese cinema immensely.
Only TWO movies on my best list are in English. And Peeping Tom is British while Stoker is UK/US coproduction. American cinema, although I watch it most frequently, failed to impress me in 2014. Even Nightcrawler couldn’t be included on the list, as I regard each film on the list a better one than Jake-Gyllenhaal-fest.
All the grotesque movies I could review are not in English. *sigh* As I get the most readers from the United States, it seems I try to sabotage my own efforts. :D On the other hand, I cannot hide the fact that I consider cinema as international art and I watch movies from all around the world. And to be honest, the blog stats are unpredictable. Most popular post on my blog is The Holy Mountain one (this one).
This year Pier Paolo Pasolini became one of my favorite directors (in this post you could spot Accattone and Teorema).
I read way too many fantasy books that I didn’t include here.
Weirdness and great script/plot are not incompatible.
I hope you liked this lengthy sum-up of my very subjective pursues. I certainly enjoyed creating all these categories. If you have similar posts or want to share your favorites/least favorites picks of 2014, don’t hesitate to post them in the comments below. I would love to hear about them!
Finally I get to write about the movie that is so recent it may still be playing next to you. And it uses grotesque successfully! Yay!
I don’t know if “Nightcrawler” is a perfect movie. But it’s the best movie I saw in cinema this year. This doesn’t actually say much as I watched few movies in theater and most of them were disappointments. So let me put it differently. I compared it in my mind to great American movies of the 1970s (which is my favorite decade of cinema in general). It belongs to a different era and I love it.
In one sentence: Lou Bloom is a scumbag. He steals, robs and deceives. He proves throughout the movie that he respects no moral boundaries. Nothing can stop him from getting what he wants. He lives in L.A., so it seems he is in the right place. His lack of empathy is greatly appreciated as he becomes a self-employed freelance filmmaker who films accidents, shootings and fires that break out at nighttime. Nina (Rene Russo), a TV-news veteran, pays him for each material that he brings to her TV station. His shots usually get broadcasted in the morning. The anchormen always warn the audience that viewer discretion is advised. Lou Bloom watches it happily while ironing his cheap shirts. He is persistent.
Now I know that today’s work culture no longer caters to the job loyalty that could be promised to earlier generations. What I believe is that good things come to those who work their asses off. And that, good people, who reach the top of the mountain, didn’t just fall there.
Imagine this told by a person with piercing puppy eyes on a starving but smiling face.
Honestly, Lou Bloom’s English is so polished that it is terrifying in itself. Even the first sentence he utters is meaningful: “I’m under the opinion that this is a detour.”
Obviously the movie is a satire on newsroom/capitalism/today’s job market crisis/ideology of success (which Lou Bloom knows by heart). Choose what you like, you will find all of that.
It is also grotesque. This movie made the audience in my theater quiet at one moment and laughing at another. There are lots of funny scenes in this gripping film! Lou Bloom’s pep talks are highlights of the movie. When we contrast their pomposity and naïve optimism with the harsh reality the only reaction can be laughter. Especially when these “pursuit of happiness” words are spoken by the most despicable person in the movie. Pure grotesque.
Lou Bloom gets compared by reviewers to Norman Bates, but I’m getting Alex DeLarge vibe here. To be more specific, Malcolm McDowell as Alex in “A Clockwork Orange”. These piercing blue eyes! Another, less-known, actor who sports this look is Brad Dourif as Hazel Motes in “Wise Blood” (extremely underrated actor in an underrated movie adaptation of Flannery O’Connor’s novel). What all these three characters have in common is their alienation from those that surround them and, partly, from the audience. We do not sympathize with them, but we watch them performing all these weird and drastic actions with constant fascination. All the time having in mind these innocent-looking blue eyes.
Jake Gyllenhaal really did a great job transforming for this movie. It’s not all about the weight loss. His face totally changed. We no longer see this adorable lost depressed boyish man from “Donnie Darko”. Here we observe a total creep who we would likely avoid in real life but on the cinematic screen he captivates our attention more than the aforementioned pretty boy.
During his developing career Lou realizes that cinematography matters. That’s why I described him as a filmmaker, not a news videographer. He discovers the relation between the right shots and the desirable emotional reaction from future TV viewers. He starts to direct the scene, does not just roll with it. Therefore I would suggest that “Nightcrawler” is all about making movies. Filmmakers know tricks that will sell their product to the audience. Rene Russo’s character symbolizes a producer who is both in power and powerless. My theory can be perhaps more easily applied to horror genre (the more blood, the better; the same goes for accidents), but I would say that the whole cinema works this way. Maybe even the whole art? Lou Bloom is creepy? What about artists who know how to appeal to the audience? He is creepy? What about us, the viewers, who enjoy being entertained that way?
I just realized it’s the fifth time that I blog about the movie/novel which takes place in Los Angeles or nearby. Either this city (or, more often, Hollywood) attracts grotesque or artists working there are more prone to noticing it. I suppose both options can be correct.
Returning to the 1970s feel I just searched for interviews with the director Dan Gilroy and I found out one where he comments on it. His comment is worth reading:
One of the things about the ’70s films I love—the films Nightcrawler is being compared to, like Taxi Driver—is that they never put their flawed characters into any one box. To call someone a sociopath or a psychopath is misrepresentative. On one level, yes, their behavior makes them diagnostically and accurately sociopathic, but a sociopath is not just black-and-white. You can’t see them from far away; they’re not rare creatures. All of us have a bit of a sociopath inside of us, and it’s wrong to think that somebody is just clearly sociopathic, because they’re not. It’s interesting to explore the shadings and nuances within a person. Those feelings exist within more human beings than people may want to acknowledge.
You can read the whole interview here (it contains some spoilers though).
As you may have noticed, I tried not to spoil much in this review, so my analysis is rather general. However, the point I am trying to prove is that such a thought-provoking movie doesn’t happen often. Go see it. It’s not just a movie about a sociopath/psychopath. Or about L.A. Or about television. It’s about all that and more.