Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts

Tuesday, 14 September 2021

The Changeling

 "The Changeling" (1980, Peter Medak, Chessman Park Productions, Pan-Canadian Film Distributors).

John Russell (George C. Scott) is a composer who moves to a large rented mansion from the city after the tragic death of his wife and young daughter in a road accident. After experiencing some supernatural phenomena in the house, John begins to hope that he may have found a way to communicate with his daughter's spirit. However, the house has a dark past and John's digging instead leads him to uncover the truth behind a prominent family's history. 

A haunted house classic. The film delivers an unsettling atmosphere and a beautiful, haunting setting. The child ghost's voice still gives me the shivers and the scenes with the ball rolling around are eerie. Not a slow film, we are treated to a possessed wheelchair chase scene down a large, ornate staircase and some disturbing scenes of the murder taking place in the house as well as an eventful and satisfying finale.

George C. Scott gives a fantastic and sympathetic performance as our protagonist, John Russell. He is grief-stricken and lonely. We see him break down and we see him working to get himself back together. It's such an honest and heartfelt portrayal of a bereaved husband and father that doesn't shy away from emotion but still maintains the determined and capable characterisation of the time. John is sad and determined to sort out this haunted house business. Even if he looks completely unhinged doing it. 

Supposedly based on actual events, the unravelling of the mystery is punctuated by the reaction of the spirit in the house who is tragic but also still a petulant and demanding child. John is manipulated by the spirit, but later takes the spirit's plight on-board as his own way of dealing with his own loss. 

A genuinely beautiful and entertaining haunted house film that should be a must-see for any horror fan. 

[Image: Pan-Canadian Film Distributors, et al]
Hani

Sunday, 29 August 2021

The Night House

 "The Night House" (2020, David Bruckner, Phantom Four Films, Anton, TSG Entertainment, Searchlight Pictures) is a haunted house film centred around grief.

Beth (Rebecca Hall) returns home after the funeral of her husband, Owen (Evan Jonigkeit), to the beautiful lakeside house he designed and built for them. She attempts to go about her normal life as much as possible, but at night she is haunted by increasingly disturbing and realistic dreams. She finds herself waking up in different places around the house and, against the warnings of her concerned friend, Claire (Sarah Goldberg) and neighbour, Mel (Vondie Curtis Hall), she starts to dig into Owen's secrets uncovering some things about her husband and their home that she did not know. 

A truly beautifully shot film which is slow burning and laced with intrigue. I found myself rapt for 107 minutes and even jumped at one or two places (which is not something I find myself doing often). The story straddles the daily horrors of dealing with grief with the haunted house elements very well, creating a balance rather than feeling like two different themes. The grief of Beth's loss and her building feelings of betrayal intertwine with her unravelling of Owen's life and the dreams that Beth is experiencing.

Rebecca Hall gives a wonderful performance as our protagonist, Beth. She is sad and forlorn, but she is also angry and driven to uncover the meaning behind Owen's sad fate. We feel sympathy for her, but we also appreciate that she is lashing out at those with her best interests at heart. She has such a wonderful range of emotions in every scene. We really share her emotional journey. 

The effects and styling of the haunting are captivating and creative. The use of negative space, shadows and the feeling of something being there that cannot be seen keep you watching the background of every scene for signs of 'life'. The house feels both extremely open and extremely claustrophobic. And, as we build to the climax, the presence becomes more and more threatening.

There are a few clues dropped quite early in the film that may give the game away for some of us seasoned horror viewers, but it didn't ruin my enjoyment of the journey. And I feel like the film does a good job of explaining just enough to come to a satisfying conclusion without getting too bogged down in explaining its lore and rules. 

The film has an interesting take on what happens after death which does not fully conform to the usual Christian religious leanings and I personally found this thought-provoking and unique in a genre so often tied to Christian beliefs.

Certainly a film I'm glad I watched in a cinema, but one I would also like to experience again in my own home. Although, it might make me look twice at some of our corners and furniture...


[Image: Phantom Four Films, et al]
Hani

Monday, 15 May 2017

A Dark Song

"A Dark Song" (2016, Liam Gavin, IFC Midnight) is an indy horror from Ireland centred around the Occult.

Sophia (Catherine Walker) is a grieving mother who goes to an isolated house in the Welsh countryside with occultist, Joseph (Steve Oram), in order to perform a series of rituals to summon her guardian angel and speak with her deceased, 7-year old child. However, any slip can lead to the ritual going awry, with possible deadly results.

A slow, quiet movie with a really effective soundtrack and a stylistic storytelling method that doesn't particularly grab you by the shoulders, but does build up ominously. The black magic rituals have an element of realism to them that make the scenes effective. The magic is hard, and dirty and gross. The pretty stuff is simple and limited and the things on the other side are not friendly.

The gritty realism of the occult elements really play well with the disharmonious relationship between the determined, desperate woman and her reluctant, angry, world-weary spiritual guide. Sophie's inexperience and desperate resolution goes up against Joseph's seen-it-all-and-sick-of-it attitude, and his brash rudeness towards her drives her to fight against him, making the already gruelling process worse.

The quiet, desolate story telling style is effective, but it does make the experience of the film quite slow-going. While there were parts where I was on the edge of my seat, there were certainly sparse areas where I was just waiting on something moving the plot forward.

An altogether gloomy piece with a haunting impact. Innovative, if a little slow to get started.

[Image: IFC Midnight]
 
Hani 

Monday, 3 November 2014

The Babadook

"The Babadook" (2014, Causeway Films, Cinetic Media/eOne Films International, Jennifer Kent) is the story of an unlucky family who become plagued by a nightmarish creature after reading from a mysterious, creepy children's storybook.

Amelia (Essie Davis) is a woman who has had a tough hand in life; the early death of her husband has been something that she has struggled to cope with. Couple that with a her imaginative but unruly, undisciplined child, Sam (Noah Wiseman), and you have a pretty sad tale.

A slow burning and depressing tale, the film is more about feeling and presence than scares and I found that the lack of action did become a bit monotonous after a while. However, the scenes with the creepy shadow monster are really quite chilling and atmospheric and there is a horrible reality of the fear of bad parenting and the black pit of grief in there too.

The acting is great. The characters feel realistic, if slightly unhinged, and there's even a few nice jumpy bits. I especially liked the styling of the story book which in itself is terrifying.

Mr. Babadook could be a terrifying monster, joining the infamous ranks of our other favourite boogeymen. Unfortunately, the slow, artsy style of the film did take away some of the pace of the story, even if it did make for an elegant looking end product.

A great debut piece, and a thoughtful take on a boogeyman story, but style overtook substance a little too much in my view.

[Image: Causeway Films]
Hani