FUNNY GAMES U.S.
(Review)

"I've been accused of 'raping' the audience in my films, and I admit to that freely—all movies assault the viewer in one way or another. What's different about my films is this: I'm trying to rape the viewer into independence."
-- Michael Haneke

Well, consider me frakked.

In Michael Haneke’s shot-for-shot English-language remake of his 1997 Funny Games, George and Ann Farber (Tim Roth and Naomi Watts) are a couple of rich, white folk vacationing at their lakeside home for a couple of weeks. They’ve brought their son, Georgie (Devon Gearhart), and their dog, Lucky.
Naturally, in a film like this, when there’s a dog named “Lucky,” you can bet your bottom dollar that the mutt will be anything but.
You see, a pair of insanely courteous young lunatics (Michael Pitt and Brady Corbet) clad in immaculate white, are about to make a house call, all set to torture, not just the unlucky family, but the film’s audience as well.

With the cold, clinical precision that is his cinematic stock-in-trade, Haneke basically hijacks his audience and unleashes a confrontational and provocative indictment of what passes off as “entertainment” in today’s culture.
Funny Games U.S. (and its original Austrian progenitor) challenges its audience: so you like movies where people get tortured and terrorized? Well, see if you enjoy this.
With its largely static camerawork, its lack of a traditional musical score, and painfully frank performances, Funny Games U.S. presents the horrible scenario in a seemingly very real manner, while simultaneously tearing down the fourth wall on a number of occasions, reminding us that, A) this is a fiction, and B) we, the audience, are complicit in what we are witnessing.
Because this is, after all, unfolding for our entertainment.
Given that this is a decidedly non-Hollywood approach to the idea, and given that this is clearly Heneke’s agenda, it becomes obvious that Funny Games U.S. isn’t meant to be “entertainment.”
From all of what I’ve said above, it’s plainly evident that Funny Games U.S. is meant to be “art.”
And that’s I believe the sticking point of this entire quandary.

Let me use Gaspar Noe’s Irreversible as an example.
Irreversible is the sort of grueling cinematic experience that I really wouldn’t want to repeat. Viewing it wasn’t a pleasant experience.
But I do appreciate what Noe seems to be saying in it, the manner in which the narrative unfolds (begin at the end of the story in a very chaotic, nauseating manner, and work our way towards the beginning, with the camerawork gradually becoming calm and steady), part and parcel of his message.
Clearly, Irreversible is not entertainment. But I do believe that it is art.
So what’s to stop someone who makes a film that’s non-stop degradation and torture without any apparent message from claiming that there is, after all, a message (those who don’t “get it” merely ill-equipped to understand), and that his film is “art”?
And aren’t the lines that separate art and entertainment ultimately subjective?
Let’s face it: I may think Irreversible is art, but someone else will probably denounce it as filth and look at me like some sort of unhinged deviant for even considering Irreversible as a piece of art.
By the same token, I’m sure there are films out there others consider “art” that I, personally, just don’t get. (Apparently, I too, can be ill-equipped.)
Then there are those films that are ostensibly entertainment, and yet manage to say something substantial and potent about the human condition, that manage to bridge the gap and present some sort of hybrid.
Are they entertainment? Art? Or both?

Now, any Iguana regulars reading this will know that horror with significant subtext is pretty much my speed. As such, Haneke’s preaching to the choir here. (See, Herr Haneke, “No” really does mean “No.”)
But the reality is, I also happen to love films like the first Saw and Eli Roth’s Hostel films (particularly the second), because in them, I feel there is subtext, there are messages amidst the gore and the grue.
Now, whether or not Haneke will agree with me, I’ll never know. And for that matter, where is Haneke’s line, his personal demarcation between “acceptable” and “unacceptable” violence?
Shouldn’t all violence be unacceptable? But in a frank discussion of violence (the kind art can engage in), isn’t the depiction of it a necessity?
And with any depiction of violence, don’t we return to the question of acceptability? How much can we show so as to make our point?
So many questions…

In asking what Herr Haneke’s personal demarcation is though, I believe I’m missing the real point, which is, What is my personal demarcation? Where do I draw the line?
And where do you?

Parting shot: Reviews of Saw and Hostel II can be found in the Archive.

Parting shot 2: Incidentally, both Haneke and Noe were included by avclub.com in a list of 17 “Notorious Living, Working Cinematic Provocateurs,” which uses Haneke’s New York Times quote in its title.
Others on the list include Park Chan-Wook, Takashi Miike, Oliver Stone, Lars von Trier, and Michael Moore.

(Funny Games U.S. OS [design by Crew Creative Advertising] and UK quad courtesy of impawards.com; Funny Games DVD cover art courtesy of amazon.com; Funny Games U.S. images courtesy of ign.com.)

IN THE INTERESTS OF ALL THINGS RECYCLABLE (4)
CHAKUSHIN ARI
(ONE MISSED CALL)

With Hollywood’s take on Chakushin Ari having gotten its US release on January 4, I decided to resurrect this one for the World Wide Web. Enjoy.

Looking back…

Chakushin Ari (One Missed Call) is one of the latest films from the insanely prolific Japanese director Takashi Miike, and is the first of his films I’ve seen that is set squarely in the Asian supernatural horror genre.
The film revolves around Yumi Nakamura (Kou Shibasaki, from Norio Tsuruta’s Kakashi and Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle Royale), whose friend Yoko, dies after receiving a call on her cell phone, a call that was apparently made from the very same phone: what sounds like Yoko’s own voice, speaking a few innocent words, then screaming. The call is dated two days in the future. Two days after receiving the call, Yoko dies, after uttering the same words on the mysterious call.
In the vein of films like Hideo Nakata’s Ringu and Takashi Shimizu‘s Ju-on, a sinister chain of deaths begins, all presaged by the receiving of a phone call, as the future victim speaks his or her last words, the impending date of death conveniently displayed on the cell.

Exploring the theme of the co-opting of modern technology by ancient, supernatural forces for their own malevolent ends (as was done in Ringu/The Ring, Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Kairo, and of course, its English-language remake, Jim Sonzero‘s Pulse), Chakushin Ari also delves into the idea of abuse as a cycle—a chain that must be broken, lest it revolve endlessly, its touch reaching out to others far removed from the initial victim, connected only through chance and circumstance.
And unlike Ringu, where the breaking of the chain was required simply because it would save a character’s life, in Chakushin Ari, not only would that prevent someone’s death, but there is also a broader context for which the breaking of the cycle is necessary. In that respect, there is a thematic cohesiveness in Chakushin Ari that is absent in Ringu.

As far as the mechanics of the “curse” goes, whereas in Ringu, anyone who happened to watch Sadako’s videotape would fall prey to her rage, in Chakushin Ari, anyone who is part of the cellular network is a potential victim, and these days, that’s practically everybody.
And shutting off your phone, disconnecting yourself from the network, canceling your cellular subscription, destroying and throwing your phone away, isn’t enough. Your phone will turn itself on, your SIM will reactivate, your phone will find its way back to you, intact and operational, and you’ll still wind up very dead.
Which is, on the one hand, proof of the power that supernatural force has, but on the other hand, is kind of a cheat.
And speaking of cheats, there’s one big fat one towards the film’s end that stretches the envelope of the audience’s suspension of disbelief to near-breaking point. It’s one of a couple of unfortunate lapses in what could potentially have been a much more substantial film than Ringu, given what Miike was apparently aiming for.

Another flaw is a subplot concerning a television show that manages to broadcast to viewers across Japan, a pivotal set piece in the film’s supernatural goings-on. Given all the build-up towards that particular sequence, as well as the bravura execution of it by Miike, with nice editing touches and masterful pacing, one would think this would lead someplace.
Instead, as soon as the sequence is over, the TV show subplot suddenly ends, truncated, as if in one of Miike’s more ultraviolent moments. We don’t see how this event, broadcast live, affects the general public. No reactions at all to indicate the impact this has on the citizenry.
If we had, I think it would have reinforced the notion of how an evil can permeate society with its malignant influence, a notion already inherent in the idea of a curse being passed on through the cellular network. Sadly, we don’t see that; following that sequence, we immediately return to the very personal tale of Yumi and her struggle with the evil that is calling out through her cell phone.

And, having mentioned Miike’s penchant for ultraviolence, it can be said that Chakushin Ari comes nowhere near the gore and splatter quotient of Koroshiya Ichi (Ichi the Killer). Nor is it as bizarre as Bizita Q (Visitor Q). Nor as disturbing as Odishon (Audition).
It is, in fact, one of the most accessible and mainstream films I’ve seen from Miike, alongside his moving adaptation of Shugoro Yamamoto’s Sabu.
Which is not to say it’s completely “safe.” Chakushin Ari has its fair share of creepy moments, and, despite its occasional lapses, is an effective work that can enter the annals of the on-going renaissance in Japanese horror (sparked by the global success of Nakata’s Ringu) with devilish ease. It’s certainly a far more effective chiller than Masato Harada’s Inugami, or Tsuruta’s Kakashi.

And, as with Nakata’s Honogurai Mizu No Soko Kara (Dark Water), Chakushin Ari also attempts to be something more than just another horror movie. Though where Nakata succeeds, Miike falls just a little bit short.
Chakushin Ari shares another thing with Honogurai Mizu No Soko Kara: the study of the mother-daughter dynamic, though the one displayed in Honogurai Mizu No Soko Kara is decidedly healthier and far more positive than those depicted in Chakushin Ari.
Of course, if oeuvres are anything to go by, Miike’s worldview is significantly more warped than Nakata’s, so this really isn’t a surprise.

Another possible weak spot in Chakushin Ari is its curiously ambiguous ending, which is open to interpretation and debate.
Even the plot twist towards the film’s end—taking a page from Dario Argento’s Sotto Gli Occhi Dell’assassino (Tenebrae), tweaking it, and giving it a supernatural spin—may not be such a twist, as you may see it coming, or at the very least, consider it as a possibility before the big reveal.

Ultimately, Chakushin Ari is a film to watch, if you’re into the Asian horror film scene, or just want a good scare.
Though as far as J-Horror goes, as much as Miike makes a good impression, Nakata’s still got the spectral crown firmly on his head.

Since then…

Miike has gone on to direct a gazillion more films since Chakushin Ari, some (like Zebraman and Yokai Daisenso—The Great Yokai War) more mainstream than others (his rambling, metaphysical samurai movie, Izo).
He also contributed “Box” to pan-Asian horror anthology Saam Gaang Yi (Three… Extremes) and the too-disturbing-for-American-cable “Imprint” to Masters of Horror’s first season. And then there was some good old fashioned Ultraman Max thrown in for good measure, as well as that great cameo in Eli Roth’s Hostel.
Notable in his 2007 output are Kurozu Zero (Crows: Episode Zero) and Sukiyaki Western Django.

Chakushin Ari was also followed up by two sequels, Chakushin Ari 2 and Chakushin Ari Final, neither of which had Miike in the director’s chair; 2 was directed by Renpei Tsukamoto, while Final was helmed by Manabu Asou.
Neither sequel was quite as good as Chakushin Ari.
Also, in 2005, the same year Chakushin Ari 2 hit theatres, a television series of Chakushin Ari invaded Japanese homes, all 10 episodes of which are available on DVD. Haven’t seen those though, so I honestly don’t know if the show was any good.

Looking forward…

Armed with that freaky-a$$ one-sheet, One Missed Call is helmed by French director Eric Valette, and stars Ed Burns, Shannyn Sossamon (last seen in Catacombs, review in Archive), and genre fixture Ray Wise.
I hope they retain that truly disturbing ring tone from the original…

(Chakushin Ari DVD cover art courtesy of amazon.com [Double Disc Edition] and amazon.co.uk [2007 UK edition].)

(The “Looking back…” section above is a slightly altered version of a previously published review entitled “Missed Opportunity.”)

CAPTIVITY
(Review)

There are some movies that just don’t live up to the hype. Roland Joffe’s Captivity is one of them.
Even as gorno became the horror genre’s whipping boy, billboard ads for Captivity (which tells the story of the abduction and torture of fashion model du jour Jennifer Tree, played by 24’s Elisha Cuthbert), apparently unapproved by the MPAA, went up in New York and Los Angeles this past March. The billboards—which featured four panels depicting Cuthbert in the stages, Seduction, Confinement, Torture, and Termination—attracted a firestorm of controversy, and were subsequently pulled down.
Thus did Captivity become “the movie they didn’t want you to see!” (Or so the trailer put it following the billboard incident.)
As it is, there’s probably more excitement in the hullabaloo of that run-in with the MPAA than can be found in the film itself.

This is a limp and tepid exercise in thrills, and the twice-Oscar-nominated Joffe (for directing The Killing Fields and The Mission) never manages to raise the tension level above the slow simmering that runs through the film’s entire course. There is one brief moment, about an hour into the film, when something happens that could make you wonder, “Okay. So where are you taking this?”
Past that point though, the film settles back into its slothful zombie shuffle and sort of just shambles off towards its uninteresting climax.

Nothing really quite works in Captivity.
Once you get past the initial sense of discomfort and unease at the idea of abduction, things settle into a sense of humdrum tedium that never fully leaves the premises, like an unwanted, overstaying guest.
And while Jennifer is tortured (largely a psychological ordeal; despite appearances, this film is hardly gorno), the bits of police procedural interspersed throughout the proceedings seem lackadaisical, as if Joffe were begrudgingly giving us these scenes because that was expected of him. It doesn’t help that Michael Harney and Laz Alonso, who play the detectives, aren’t exactly the Oscar types either.

Additionally, the identity of the mystery abductor is immediately obvious to any film geek. (And if you don’t instantly identify the abductor when you get to see the eyes, pay attention to the abductor’s actions.)
Thus, not only is there no tension, there is no real mystery either.
So that’s bad enough. But the film also chooses to leave the abductor’s psychology a complete blank to the audience. By movie’s end, we have no frakking idea why all this happened. We get no sense of the abductor’s past, of the presumed trauma that caused this much psychological damage.

And ultimately, Captivity is also the kind of movie that doesn’t seem to have a point at all.
Certainly, this is not entertainment.
A: I would not call a bad movie “entertainment.”*
And more importantly, B: The reality of abduction and torture and murder is hardly “entertainment.”
Even with films as dark as the first Saw and Hostel, there were points to be made, and skill and savvy used to tell the tale. Captivity seems to have none of these.
There is a brief brush against the class divide, as Jennifer is made out to be a rich b!tch who has no real idea of how the other half lives, as well as some babble about the only real things being what you can touch, but these ideas don’t really go anywhere, trapped in the dreary hollow of this film the way Jennifer is in her cell.
And though it was apparently Joffe’s intent that Captivity be about “female empowerment” (the common PR spin for horror movies that have women running about and screaming and being stalked by unsavoury, would-be killers), I really don’t see that.
And even if the whole female empowerment aspect managed to escape me somehow, even if it’s actually there, hiding under the bed or in the crawlspace, it still wouldn’t change the fact that it’s contained in a drab and uninvolving film.

At the end of it all, Captivity just doesn’t seem to be worth the time or the effort to actually sit down and watch it.
It’s not exciting, it’s not thrilling, and it doesn’t have anything important to say. (Yes, I am aware that these things happen. All I have to do to know that is watch the news. I don’t need an uninspired horror movie to make me aware that we live in very troubled times.)
It doesn’t even have the gore.
All it really does have is Elisha Cuthbert in peril, and we already saw that on 24 Day 2, and in the House of Wax remake.
And on that note, I’d have to say that watching either is a far better prospect than enduring Captivity. (Yes, even if Paris Hilton is in House of Wax. Not only does House of Wax have an interesting climactic sequence as the eponymous house melts in a raging fire while the principals are still in it, but if you need added incentive, there is the opportunity to cheer madly when Paris gets iced. Come on, admit it. You want to.)

* Unless of course, it falls into the MST3K/so-bad-it’s-good territory, in which case, you can’t beat that kind of entertainment.
Captivity clearly does not have a passport or VISA to enter said territory.

(Captivity OS and billboard ad image courtesy of wilaboutmovies.com)

ON THE LOT
Episode 9
Horror Night

As seemed pretty evident from last week’s batch of films, David ended up getting the least number of votes, and was sent home.
Personally, I always found a certain lack in David’s films. They weren’t awful like most of Hilary’s efforts, but they didn’t quite have that “Ooomph” that the work of the more talented and creative contestants display.

Now, a quick word before I run down this week’s shorts.
I found this batch sadly underwhelming, and this is quite possibly because it was Horror Night, and anyone who knows me or has read the reviews here at the Iguana, know I’m a certified horror geek.
As such, I was looking forward to tonight, but at the end of it all, there just wasn’t a single conceit that was particularly inventive. The shorts towards the top of my list are there on the strength of a particular scene or because of the film’s execution, and not because there was anything new in them.
I hope you all understand…

MY FAVORITE: Sam Friedlander’s “Anklebiters”
It’s got a simple premise: a new vicious species attacks a boy in the dead of night.
The strength of “Anklebiters” lies in the attack sequence, which is shot and edited well, ratcheting up the tension and suspense as any good creature feature should. And the child actor was effective as well.
I’m just not sure about the opening voice-over, which is borderline hokey-jokey, when I feel it should have been more Twilight Zoney. And the short’s punchline (or “tag,” as guest judge Eli Roth calls it) did lack some, er, bite.
But we still love ‘ya, Sam! (And try and smile a little more, dude; that should get you some more votes…)

Shira-Lee Shalit’s “Open House”
A young, expecting couple view an apparently haunted house.
This one is near the top of this week’s list because that scene in the nursery with the pregnant woman and the ghost was disturbing and very effective. But as Garry Marshall pointed out, there really wasn’t any conflict. The short is pretty much, set-up, killer scene, then bam, the couple is safe by their car.
But, as Eli Roth said, that tag was nice…

Mateen Kemet’s “Profile”
Okay, this one had balls. Mateen takes an everyday horror (the fear an individual of colour has of the police) and presents us with some of the most graphic scenes to emerge from On The Lot thus far.
I get what Mateen was saying, and like I said, I commend him for his cojones, but the fact that it was all a personal dread of the main character (though part of “Profile”’s point) just smacks of those horror movies that don’t quite pull off the whole “Oh, it was all just a dream” thing.
And the final pull-away till we see the entire planet doesn’t quite drive the idea—that this is horror happening everywhere—home in a particularly effective manner.

Andrew Hunt’s “Midnight Snack”
Even monsters get the midnight munchies…
Honestly, I’m surprised Andrew ended up in the lower half of this week’s list, but this one just didn’t do it for me.
Yeah, there were some creepy shots, particularly of the female ghost, but they were plainly influenced by Asian horror, complete with contortions and ghost revealed in ordinary, innocuous location (this time, it’s a coat rack).
And ultimately, it wasn’t particularly horrifying.

Kenny Luby’s “The Malibu Myth”
A couple set out to see whether there is any truth to “The Malibu Myth,” of people who disappear along a stretch of road; people who were purportedly irradiated, turning them into flesh-eaters.
This one just reeked too much of those current Hollywood horror films that are ransacking the feel and atmosphere of extreme 70’s horror classics like Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and Wes Craven’s The Hills Have Eyes, and not taking any significant steps beyond that.
Having said that, this is, though, Kenny’s best effort to date, and is a good step towards some clarity and a traditional narrative. (Like the saying goes, you need to know the rules first, before you can break them, and I’d like to know that Kenny can first tell a story well, before he gets all whacked out and experimental cinema on me.)

MY LEAST FAVORITE: Jason Epperson’s “Eternal Waters”
A mother grieving for her drowned son is about to face a real-life horror, and a supernatural truth.
Though the shot of the kid in the water-filled coffin was effective, this one is ultimately predictable and not particularly scary. (At least, it wasn’t an Un-Favorite.)

So there you have it. My reactions to Horror Night.
And though Jason’s effort was my least favorite this week, I think he’s got a voting following.
Meanwhile, Kenny might have been in trouble if he’d stayed in his usual mode, but he delivered what is one of the current understandings of cinematic horror in this day and age, so he should be safe.
Which could mean Mateen may be done for, if the viewing audience finds his provocative and in-your-face definition of horror a little too much for their sensibilities. On the other hand, he could have a voting following too, in which case, everything’s all up in the air, and the next director to leave The Lot is anyone’s guess.

As I mentioned above, this week’s guest judge was Eli Roth, whose Cabin Fever I really, really, really love, a film which definitely proclaimed there was a new voice in cinematic horror that demanded to be listened to.
And though my love for Hostel is not as all-encompassing and complete as the one I feel for Cabin Fever, it is still nonetheless a smart, sly, savage, and well-directed piece of gorno and I’m so looking forward to seeing Hostel II, hoping that Roth can somehow pull it all off without the film being an exercise in misogyny (and with three female protagonists being tortured in some perverse commercial enterprise, that seems to be a very real possibility).

Next week: shorts based on the key phrase: When Two Worlds Collide.

(Contestant image courtesy of thelot.com; Eli Roth image on the set of Hostel II, courtesy of twitchfilm.net.)

VACANCY
(Review)

As if to pay homage to the granddaddy of all “loony in a motel” films, Vacancy opens* with what can be viewed as the 21st-century descendant of the Saul Bass-designed title sequence from Hitchcock’s Psycho, a sequence which coolly segues into the license plate of the car of Amy (Kate Beckinsale) and David Fox (Luke Wilson), a couple under the strain of an impending divorce.
It’s late, they’re lost, and the car’s beginning to look like it could be trouble. After apparently getting some help from a mechanic (Ethan Embry, goofy stoner Mark from Empire Records and the Jennifer Love Hewitt-yearning Preston from Can’t Hardly Wait), the Foxes eventually end up at the Pinewood Motel, overseen by its weirdo manager, Mason (Frank Whaley, fantastic in Keith Gordon’s A Midnight Clear and Thomas Carter’s Swing Kids).
They’re forced to spend the night at the ratty Honeymoon Suite, and when David can’t find anything on TV, he sticks in a VHS tape.
That’s when the fun starts.

Much as Eli Roth’s Hostel did, Vacancy uses the idea of torture and violence as a commercial venture as the springboard for its plot, and succeeds in giving its audience a tense and engaging thriller.
This is doubly interesting to me, as the film’s central idea is also a reflection on the fact that this kind of horror film (alternately called “torture porn”—from a phrase coined by New York Magazine’s David Edelstein—or my personal preference, “gorno”) is proving very profitable for Hollywood.
If the baddies of Hostel and Vacancy can make a quick buck off the misery and torture of hapless innocents, than why can’t Hollywood rip off audiences the world over with shrill screams and fake blood?
For any of you out there though who may take offense at anything called “torture porn,” let me assure you, Vacancy’s on-screen gore quotient is minimal in the extreme. There is violence of course, but not the sort of splatter movie violence where we see dismemberment and eye gouging and disemboweling. Vacancy is more thriller than gorno, and it’s a taut little bugger too.

What makes Vacancy even more effective is the fact that you become embroiled in this sullen, largely toxic relationship between husband and wife, played effectively by Beckinsale and Wilson. You feel the tension and the regret that this couple share, and you sense the spectre of the love that was once there.
You sympathize with them so much, that when the fit hits the shan, it’s actually a relief that they don’t devolve into hysterical recrimination. (After all, isn’t the fact that your lives are in danger far more important than anything else?)
It’s also a relief to see Beckinsale in something other than body-hugging black leather making out with Ben from Felicity, so if just for that, Amy Fox is a singular triumph.

If Vacancy has a weakness though, it can arguably be found in an ending that both soft pedals what came just before it, and perhaps in striving for realism (no protracted “psycho gets up after being stabbed/shot/mortally wounded to relentlessly stalk his victim” sequence here), director Nimrod Antal (Kontroll) and writer Mark L. Smith wind up crafting a climax that feels somewhat truncated.
That last shot had a feeling of: What?! That’s it?
Still, all in all, the ride getting to that final shot is worth it.
And if you’re not gonna give me much more than a good story about people in extreme, life-threatening situations (ie. no social or political commentary amidst the grue), then I’d much rather see an effective, if somewhat flawed, thriller than scene after scene of pointless blood and gore.

* It’s a savvy title sequence that’s one of the most interesting I’ve seen this year. (And that one sheet just slays, too.)

Parting shot: I love the conflation “gorno” (gore + porno), as it has that sleazy vibe to it, and a majority of the sub-genre’s titles strike me as violence for violence’s sake.
Don’t get me wrong, I love me a good horror film. Always have, always will.
But once you’ve seen Tobe Hooper’s Texas Chain Saw Massacre or Wes Craven’s The Hills Have Eyes, seeing other films of extreme violence (or, Heaven help me, seeing remakes of these classic films of extreme violence) just seems rather pointless, if they have nothing much more in their celluloid beyond the gore and grue.
Unless the point is to make a ton of money on a relatively low budget, which seems to be the case a lot of the time.
Now, when the film is a Hostel or a Saw, then I get it, and these are two of the films that give gorno its good name.
But when it’s a Turistas, or a Saw sequel, or a Texas Chainsaw remake (or prequel), or a Hills Have Eyes remake (or sequel remake), then these are the sort of films that give gorno its bad name.
And as you can see from the above sampling, they outnumber the goodies, believe me.

(Vacancy OS courtesy of wildaboutmovies.com.)

AFTERTHOUGHTS (4)

4.1 Brandon Routh won the Best Male Newcomer in the Empire Readers Awards 2007. Hurrah! Superman Returns and Bryan Singer were also shortlisted in the Best Film and Best Director categories, which were won by Casino Royale and Christopher Nolan (for The Prestige), respectively. Additionally, Superman Returns also wound up on the Best Sci-fi/Fantasy shortlist, which El Laberinto Del Fauno (Pan’s Labyrinth) won, and in Scene Of The Year, for the awesome Space Shuttle rescue. (To Mark Stetson, Visual Effects Supervisor; Joyce Cox, Visual Effects Producer; Sony Pictures Imageworks and Pixel Liberation Front, thanx for the brilliant work on that sequence.)
Additionally, Best Horror was won by Hostel (Hostel: Part II releases June 8!), and Best Thriller, by The Departed.

Also shortlisted in the following categories were:

Best Male Newcomer
Rian Johnson (for directing Brick)
Paul Dano (Little Miss Sunshine)
Dominic Cooper (The History Boys and Starter For Ten)

Best Female Newcomer
Rebecca Hall (The Prestige and Starter For Ten)
Abigail Breslin (Little Miss Sunshine)
Ellen Page (Hard Candy)
Vera Farmiga (The Departed)

Best Film
El Laberinto Del Fauno (Pan’s Labyrinth)
The Departed

Best Director
Martin Scorsese (The Departed)
Guillermo Del Toro (El Laberinto Del Fauno)

Best Actor
Leonardo DiCaprio (The Departed)
Christian Bale (The Prestige)

Best Actress
Helen Mirren (The Queen)
Kate Winslet (Little Children)

Best Sci-fi/Fantasy
Children of Men

Best British Film
The Queen

Best Horror
Gwoemul (The Host)
Slither

Scene Of The Year
The foot chase (Brick)
Frank and Mr. French interrogate Costigan (The Departed)
Attack on the car (Children of Men)

Congratulations one and all.
Check out the list to see if your favorite films made the cut.

(Superman image courtesy of brandonrouth.com.)