THE MIDNIGHT MEAT TRAIN
(Review)

Down the subway steps, token in hand. Through the automatic gates. The smell of the tunnels was in his nostrils now. Not the smell of the deep tunnels of course. They had a scent all of their own. But there was reassurance even in the stale electric air of this shallow line. The regurgitated breath of a million travellers circulated in this warren, mingling with the breath of creatures far older; things with voices soft like clay, whose appetites were abominable. How he loved it. The scent, the dark, the thunder.


So, for whatever reason they may have had—petty studio politics, or a conscious attempt of a studio to move towards more mainstream fare—this one was screwed by Lionsgate in the US, dumped into a pitiful 102 dollar and second-run theatres simply to fulfill contractual obligations.
I can only hope that this finds blazing life on DVD, because it certainly deserves it.

Based on Clive Barker’s short story from his landmark Books of Blood collection, Ryuhei Kitamura’s The Midnight Meat Train finds struggling photographer Leon Kaufman (Alias and Kitchen Confidential’s Bradley Cooper) on the brink of staking out some wall space at a group exhibit by noted art dealer Susan Hoff (Brooke Shields); all he needs is to “capture the heart of the city.”
But what happens when a city’s heart isn’t exactly pure?
We all know what Nietzsche said about staring into abysses, yes?

New York was just a city.
He had seen her wake in the morning like a slut, and pick murdered men from between her teeth, and suicides from the tangles of her hair. He had seen her late at night, her dirty back streets shamelessly courting depravity. He had watched her in the hot afternoon, sluggish and ugly, indifferent to the atrocities that were being committed every hour in her throttled passages.


It’s Cooper’s portrayal of Leon—in tandem with that of Popular’s Leslie Bibb (who plays Leon’s supportive girlfriend Maya)—that serves to ground this dark tale of servitude and ritual and death, as the photographer finds himself spiraling into the shadows of the inner workings of the vast metropolis, where people go missing every day, some never to be found again.
The chemistry between Cooper and Bibb brings a warm and tender life to the couple, making them genuine and real, thus making the inexorable slide to the film’s brutal climax all the harder.
The horror in Midnight Meat Train can be found just as much in Leon’s descent into obsession and the gradual fraying of his relationship with Maya, as it can in the spectacularly over-the-top gore, delivered on-screen by a silently scowling Vinnie Jones, who plays the butcher Mahogany.

Another reason why I so looked forward to this adaptation was because Jonathan Sela was the cinematographer on-board, and though I do feel he captured more striking and riveting imagery in The Omen remake and in Rohtenburg (review in Archive), Sela’s contribution here is nonetheless undeniable.
Kitamura—who brought us Versus and Azumi—is the kind of director who needs a great cinematographer to bring his wild visions to the screen, and Sela certainly does that.

“We are the City fathers,” the thing said. “And mothers, and daughters and sons. The builders, the law-makers. We made this city.”
“New York?” said Kaufman. The Palace of Delights?
“Before you were born, before anyone living was born.”


If there’s somewhere Midnight Meat Train falters, it’s in not quite living up to the portrayal of New York-as-moral cesspool that Barker nailed down so eloquently with his brilliant prose in the short story; the setting doesn’t quite crystallize into its own seedy character here.
There’s also the climax, which doesn’t manage to convey the awful breadth and enormity of the horror that lies beneath the streets of New York, Leon’s “Palace of Delights.”
It’s as if, post-9/11, the thought of emphasizing the depiction of the city as something built on the foundations of an ancient—and on-going—inhumanity seemed in, ahem, bad taste.

Whether or not that was part of the reasoning behind screenwriter Jeff Buhler’s choices when he adapted the short story, it’s ultimately still an aspect of the film that doesn’t work as well as I’d hoped.
Which is not to say the final stretch of the third act goes all pussy on us, mind. There’s still some wild bits in there; it’s just not as potent as the source material.
Sadly, we also don’t get that chilling “original American” moment…

Beyond its ability to successfully capture certain aspects of the short story, there’s also the matter of the underutilization of Roger Bart, who doesn’t really do much here.
I’m also not quite sold on the film’s use of CGI, particularly in the train bits…

The meat of her back had been entirely cleft open from neck to buttock and the muscle had been peeled back to expose the glistening vertebrae. It was the final triumph of The Butcher’s craft. Here they hung, these shaved, bled, slit slabs of humanity, opened up like fish, and ripe for devouring.


Still and all, The Midnight Meat Train is worth a look-see, whether or not you’re a Barker fan.
It’s also a very promising sign for the upcoming adaptations from the Books of Blood collection, Anthony DiBlasi’s Dread, John Harrison’s Book of Blood, Pig Blood Blues, and The Madonna (the last two still without attached directors, as far as I know).
After that initial cinematic flurry back in the day which included the first two Hellraiser films, Nightbreed, Candyman, and Lord of Illusions, Barker’s name has been mostly absent from big screen horror. (Yes, he produced the excellent, Oscar-nominated Gods and Monsters, but that wasn’t a horror movie.)

Barker’s inactivity on the film front is a crime as far as I’m concerned, considering all the blackly wondrous sights he’s brought to the screen in the past, whether as director or as the writer whose work has been adapted.
I’d still like to see that Director’s Cut of Nightbreed, or actually have Barker in the director’s chair again (though he’s gone on the record to say that this isn’t anywhere on his to-do list at the moment), but barring that, excellent adaptations of his fiction certainly sound delectable to me.
Yes, there have been some less-than-thrilling ones: Rawhead Rex, anyone? But when it’s a Candyman, how can you argue with that?
And yes, I’m still waiting for that Thief of Always adaptation…


There was a horrible familiarity about this ritual. It rang a bell—not in Kaufman’s conscious mind, but in his deeper, older self.
His feet, no longer obeying his mind, but his instinct to worship, moved. He walked through the corridor of bodies and stepped out of the train.

(The Midnight Meat Train OS and images courtesy of shocktillyoudrop.com.)

(All italicized quotes by Clive Barker, from “The Midnight Meat Train,” Books of Blood Volume One, 1984.)

THE HAPPENING
(Review)

“If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe then man would only have four years of life left.”
-- attributed to Albert Einstein

Regardless of how I ultimately feel about any particular M. Night Shyamalan film, one of the things I can generally count on is the fact that the performances will be uniformly top notch.
For the first time though, it’s the performances I have a problem with…


Mark Wahlberg plays Elliot Moore, a high school Science teacher, who, along with wife Alma (Zooey Deschanel), serve as the main protagonists of Shyamalan’s latest (and first R-rated) effort, The Happening.
In the film, a bizarre occurrence in New York’s Central Park sparks fears of a terrorist attack, and the Moores join Elliot’s best friend Julian (John Leguizamo), and Julian’s daughter Jess (Ashlyn Sanchez), as they leave Philadelphia by train to join Julian’s mother, away from the city.


Now, just to be clear, I’m not necessarily saying that the acting in The Happening is bad, but rather, I do think there’s been some serious miscasting here.
Wahlberg, Deschanel, and Leguizamo, as expected, all bring their own levels of quirk to their characters, and I can imagine Shyamalan wanted actors who could partially offset the grim scenario that unfolds onscreen.
What we occasionally get though, are performances that don’t seem to be taking place in the same movie. Strangely, there seems to be a remove here, particularly for Deschanel, who mostly feels as if she’s tuned to an altogether different frequency. (And I love Deschanel, so it kills me that she seems so out of place in The Happening.)
And mind, I’m not asking for extreme histrionics here, but rather, a little more emotional indication of the gravity of the situation.


Wahlberg is also oddly off-synch here for some reason. There are two particular scenes that stand out in my mind as bothersome.
One—in which Elliot falls back on his Science teacher mindset to push him into action—is unintentionally funny, while another—in which he tries to communicate with what he believes is the film’s central threat—is meant to be funny, but isn’t.
Again, I really think this is more a case of miscasting than anything else, and perhaps, Shyamalan looking for something in the performances that just doesn’t jibe very well with the film’s overall tone.


Also, by the very nature of the premise, we really don’t have any luxury to get to know the characters as well as we normally do in a Shyamalan film.
The scenario doesn’t afford the script any significant lulls in which to explore character in the way Shyamalan usually does, thus, there’s that nagging feeling that the Moores aren’t as well fleshed-out as characters were in, say, The Sixth Sense or Unbreakable.


Where The Happening does succeed though, is in the frightening and troubling scenario Shyamalan posits; the set pieces that showcase the havoc wreaked by the film’s central threat are wildly disturbing.
And the nature of that central threat is also alarmingly within the realm of possibility.
Man has spent centuries believing himself the master of his own destiny, when the truth is, very little is under our control; even our very own bodies have the potential to betray us, and at the very end, they do.
If we’re not even in complete control of our selves, how can we even dare to believe that we’ve brought the world to heel?


Any notion of man at the top of the hill, in the driver’s seat, or whichever metaphor you choose to use, is a dangerous delusion. We’ve raped and plundered the environment while enshrouded by that hubris.
We as a species are on a path that seems to be headed for ruin, oblivious—or worse, uncaring—of how our existence impacts on everything else around us.
Thus, when some horrible effect rises in response to the cause which is the human race, it really shouldn’t come as any surprise.
Some schools of thought liken our species to a disease on the body of Mother Earth, and if that is true, then the antibodies have to kick in sooner or later, right?


The Happening may be flawed, but it’s nonetheless a chilling cautionary tale of an Armageddon all-too terrifying, and all-too plausible in its inexplicability.
If only for that reason, it’s a film that really should be seen, and just maybe, it’ll cause us to be a little more introspective of ourselves, before it’s too late.
Then, with any luck, we may keep on existing, there, but for the grace of Whatever Else Is Out There.

“Science will come up with some reason to put in the books, but in the end, it’ll be just a theory. We will fail to acknowledge that there are forces at work beyond our understanding.
“To be a good scientist, you must have a respectful awe for the laws of nature.”

(The Happening OS courtesy of wired.com; images courtesy of empiremovies.com, beyondhollywood.com, and shocktillyoudrop.com.)

AFTERTHOUGHTS (78)
SATOSHI KON:
BEYOND IMAGINATION

For those of you down New York way, June 27 to July 1, 2008, will see a mid-career retrospective of Satoshi Kon’s anime work.
All four of Kon’s animated feature films (Perfect Blue, Sennen Joyu, Tokyo Godfathers, and Paprika) as well as sections of TV series Moso Dairinin (Paranoia Agent), will be screened at the Walter Reade Theater.

Kon will take part in an onstage conversation with the Lincoln Center’s Film Society program director Richard Peña, following the 6:15PM screening of Paprika on June 27, Friday.
Kon’s artwork will also be on display in the Frieda and Roy Furman Gallery, adjacent to the Walter Reade Theater lobby, from June 27 through July 15.

Needless to say, I am envious of all you Big Apple Kon die-hards…
You can go here for more details, and to purchase tickets online.

Parting shot: A review of Paprika can be found in the Archive.

(Images courtesy of perfectblue.com; animeshade.com [Millennium Actress]; impawards.com [Tokyo Godfathers and Paprika OS’s]; and paranoiaagent.com.)

PARIS, JE T’AIME
(Review)

An impressive array of directors are assembled for Paris, Je T’Aime, a collection of 18 five minute shorts set in and around certain sections of modern-day Paris. Ably assisted by an equally impressive ensemble, the 21 directors (3 shorts are co-directed) bring their visions of the City of Lights to the screen, and collectively produce this heartfelt cinematic portrait of life, love, and loss.
A shortlist of stand-outs would be pointless, as this film comes tantalizingly close to a clean sweep: these shorts are bittersweet and poignant, lives telescoped into a handful of minutes, sections of time that serve to illuminate entire existences.

If there are any entries that compromise that clean sweep however, they’re Vincenzo (Cube) Natali’s “Quartier de la Madeleine“ and Bruno Podalydes‘ “Montmartre.“
While Podalydes‘ entry—which opens the film—suffers in my eyes merely due to a personal pet peeve I have (characters talking to themselves), Natali’s effort is quite possibly the single misfire in this entire endeavour.
Though it is still pretty to look at (as are a vast majority of the film’s shorts), “Quartier de la Madeleine,“ which features Elijah Wood, just seems to be off-key, tonally all wrong. And it’s not because this is one of the more fanciful entries; Sylvain (Les Triplettes de Belleville) Chomet‘s whimsical tale of mimes and love, “Tour Eiffel,“ manages to be funny, moving, and magickal all at the same time. “Quartier de la Madeleine” just seems to be a misstep in an otherwise excellent selection of shorts. (I can live with Podalydes’ talking out loud in “Montmartre.”)

There are also a number of pleasant surprises, particularly cinematographer extraordinaire Christopher Doyle’s quirky entry, “Porte de Choisy.” Appropriately enough, like a Chinese puzzle box, “Porte de Choisy“ has another surprise within: director Barbet Schroeder as Monsieur Henny.

Without a doubt, there are some excellent shorts herein. But as art is ultimately a very subjective thing, whether or not the 18 shorts cohere into a single film rests entirely on the audience’s willingness to surrender themselves to the wizardry of the directors and their performers, and the vivid portrait they paint of a contemporary metropolis that quite possibly is not the common perception of “Paris.”

Paris, Je T’Aime is a genuinely moving collection of stories, snapshots of yearning and melancholy, of hope and regret, of loves lost, and found, tiny dramas played out under the shimmering lights of Paris in just under two hours, two hours that fly past quickly, as only the magick of love and cinema can make them.

Parting shot 1: Paris, Je T’Aime was originally intended to be made up of 20 short films, each set in a Paris arrondissement, but contributions from Christoffer Boe (“15th Arrondissement”) and Raphael Nadjari (“11th Arrondissement”) were dropped by producer Claudie Ossard; purportedly, they did not fit in with the rest of the entries.
Given my problems with “Quartier de la Madeleine,” I have to wonder what Boe and Nadjari had to say about Paris: did they have aliens blowing up the Arc de Triomphe? Or did they decide to pick up where 28 Weeks Later left off?

Parting shot 2: For the record, here’s an alphabetical list of the directors and their respective contributions:

Olivier Assayas: “Quartier des Enfants Rouges” (with Maggie Gyllenhaal)
Frederic Auburtin and Gerard Depardieu: “Quartier Latin” (with Ben Gazzara and Gena Rowlands; Rowlands also wrote the short’s script)
Gurinder Chadha: “Quais de Seine”
Sylvain Chomet: “Tour Eiffel”
Joel and Ethan Coen: “Tuileries” (with Steve Buscemi)
Isabel Coixet: “Bastille” (with Miranda Richardson)
Wes Craven: “Pere-Lachaise” (with Emily Mortimer, Rufus Sewell, and Alexander Payne)
Alfonso Cuaron: “Parc Monceau” (with Nick Nolte)
Christopher Doyle: “Porte de Choisy”
Richard LaGravenese: “Pigalle” (with Bob Hoskins and Fanny Ardant)
Vincenzo Natali: “Quartier de la Madeleine”
Alexander Payne: “14th Arrondissement”
Bruno Podalydes: “Montmartre”
Walter Salles and Daniela Thomas: “Loin du 16eme”
Oliver Schmitz: “Place des Fetes”
Nobuhiro Suwa: “Place des Victoires” (with Juliette Binoche and Willem Dafoe)
Tom Tykwer: “Faubourg Saint-Denis” (with Natalie Portman)
Gus Van Sant: “Le Marais” (with Marianne Faithfull and Gaspard Ulliel)

Parting shot 3: Interestingly enough, while Payne appears in Craven’s contribution, Craven appears in an uncredited role in Natali’s short.

Parting shot 4: Co-producer Emmanuel Benhiby is currently developing a film brand, “Cities of Love,” with the next project being New York, Je T’Aime.

(Paris, Je T’Aime OS’s courtesy of impawards.com.)