Showing posts with label joy division. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joy division. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 2, 2019


13 Slots for the Best Horror I've Seen in the Past Year
[4 of 13]


POSSUM
(June 2018)


Look at Possum, there he lies
Children, meet his lifeless eyes
See his nasty legs and tongue
When he wakens, watch him run

Drenched in tone and atmosphere, dotted with mysteries (a bag and its hideous contents; a perpetually closed door), Matthew Holness’ debut feature Possum is subjective, oblique horror at its finest.
In it, Sean Harris (notable to this film and music geek for portraying Joy Division’s Ian Curtis in Michael Winterbottom’s 24 Hour Party People) plays Philip Connell, who returns to his now squalid childhood home in an attempt to rid himself of his figurative (or perhaps literal?) demons.

And since we’ve mentioned music, certain aspects of Possum put me in mind of a particular track from The Cure’s Disintegration.
If you take a gander at Possum, and are a Cure fan, you’ll know which track I’m referring to…
And even if you aren’t a Cure fan, and are also somehow opposed to horror films that don’t rely on over-exposition, surely the eponymous Possum is a creature of deep, dark nightmare that, at the very least, demands to be seen, so its insidious presence can stain even your most innocent, sundrenched dreams…

Wait a while, my little child,
For what is playing dead
Possum, with his black balloons
Will eat you up in bed.

Parting Shot: Sean Harris also appears in Billy O’Brien’s excellently repulsive Isolation (review here).

(Possum OS courtesy of impawards.com.)

Saturday, December 1, 2018


¡QUÉ HORROR2019
Candidate #7

POSSUM
(June 2018)


Look at Possum, there he lies
Children, meet his lifeless eyes
See his nasty legs and tongue
When he wakens, watch him run

Drenched in tone and atmosphere, dotted with mysteries (a bag and its hideous contents; a perpetually closed door), Matthew Holness’ debut feature Possum is subjective, oblique horror at its finest.
In it, Sean Harris (notable to this film and music geek for portraying Joy Division’s Ian Curtis in Michael Winterbottom’s 24 Hour Party People) plays Philip Connell, who returns to his now squalid childhood home in an attempt to rid himself of his figurative (or perhaps literal?) demons.

And since we’ve mentioned music, certain aspects of Possum put me in mind of a particular track from The Cure’s Disintegration.
If you take a gander at Possum, and are a Cure fan, you’ll know which track I’m referring to…
And even if you aren’t a Cure fan, and are also somehow opposed to horror films that don’t rely on over-exposition, surely the eponymous Possum is a creature of deep, dark nightmare that, at the very least, demands to be seen, so its insidious presence can stain even your most innocent, sundrenched dreams…

Wait a while, my little child,
For what is playing dead
Possum, with his black balloons
Will eat you up in bed.

Parting Shot: Sean Harris also appears in Billy O’Brien’s excellently repulsive Isolation (review here).

(Possum OS courtesy of impawards.com.)

Monday, July 18, 2016

STRANGER THINGS
(July 2016)


"And you know it, and he knows it, but no one ever says anything until you both start punching and yelling at each other like goblins with Intelligence scores of zero.
"Now everything’s weird.”

For anyone who knows me, it should come as absolutely no surprise that Netflix’s Stranger Things had me by the second scene of its first episode/Chapter.
The scene in question: a D&D session that’s been 10 hours running, threatened by the intrusion of… dun-dun-dun-duuuun… parental concern that tomorrow is a school day.
Set in 1983, Stranger Things is the kind of show that resonates on a very specific frequency, and should appeal greatly to Geeks of a Certain Age, those who know exactly what that scene feels like, those who’ve lived that scene, in one variation or another.

“The bad men are comiiing!”
“Mad hen. Does that mean anything to you? Like a code name or something.”

Stranger Things’ 8-Chapter narrative kicks off with the disappearance of Will Byers (Noah Schnapp), last seen headed home after that marathon gaming session. The search for Will draws in not just his gaming buddies, but also a bunch of adults, a bunch of teenagers, and a few other characters besides.
With Stranger Things, the show’s creators--the Duffer brothers, twins Matt and Ross--have given us a love letter to that very specific ‘80’s Amblin strain of entertainment that Steven Spielberg spearheaded. Taking that as their template, they’ve infused it heavily with dollops of Stephen King, some smidgens of John Carpenter, and then sprinkled on many of the pop culture markers of that era, from the music (Joy Division! Echo and the Bunnymen! The Clash!) to the films (The Evil Dead! The Thing! The Empire Strikes Back!).
It’s a heady (and sometimes, emotionally-wrenching) rush of geek nostalgia, Stranger Things is. (And, speaking of geek nostalgia, look! Winona Ryder!!)

Of course, the thing about nostalgia is, it works on our emotional attachments to the familiar, to the things we grew up with. As such, there are a whole slew of visuals and story beats in Stranger Things that will recall, to varying degrees, those benchmarks of our past.*
But, given the way the show takes those elements and weaves them into the narrative whole, we still end up with something new. Reminiscent of something(s) old, oh yeah, definitely. But still, in the end, something new. (Or, new-ish, at the very least.)
To a certain extent, Stranger Things does the same thing The Force Awakens does, work from the template of something old and established, and dress it up with some new elements.
In point of fact, there’s something more pure and honest about the way Stranger Things uses that particular approach.
Let’s be honest: no matter how good it is, The Force Awakens, is after all, still constructed to be a franchise re-starter, while Stranger Things appears to be simply, a new story that proudly wears its influences on its sleeve. (Of course, should Stranger Things suddenly explode into a multimedia juggernaut, then we can reexamine that assessment.)**

“You always say we should never stop being curious, to always open any curiosity door we find.”
“Dustin…”
“Why are you keeping this curiosity door locked?”

Now, while the contingent of young actors on the show are across the board excellent, Millie Bobby Brown (who was also one of the noteworthy elements of BBC’s Intruders) and Broadway vet Gaten Matarazzo (Gavroche on Les MisĂ©rables) must be commended for their performances; Matarazzo’s Dustin Henderson is officially the latest entry on my personal Awesomest TV Characters Ever! list.
Oh, and Amy Seimetz’s got a single ep guest spot here, too! (Just thought I’d throw that out there.)

So, if you happen to be a Geek of a Certain Age, you’d be doing yourself a mighty disservice if you didn’t check out Stranger Things.
And you know what? Even if you aren’t, check the show out anyway.
Look! Even Stephen King likes it!

My only question about the Netflix series STRANGER THINGS is whether or not it will be popular enough to crash their servers. It might be.
--Tweet from Stephen King


* For the record, there are also some visuals that recall more recent titles, like Silent Hill and Under the Skin. (You’ll know them when you see them.)

** Having said that, I will still freely go on the record to say, given the way they opted to close the 8th Chapter, please please please let there be a second season…

(Stranger Things OS’ courtesy of impawards.com.)

Thursday, February 7, 2008


REPRISE
(Review)

Joachim Trier’s Reprise is a Norwegian film about two best friends and aspiring writers, Phillip Reisnes (Anders Danielsen Lie) and Erik Hoiaas (Espen Klouman Hoiner) and their intended debut novels, Fantombilder (Phantom Images) and Prosopopeia.
The film kicks off with the pair in that dreadful instant of anxiety, right before the manuscript is sent off into the harsh brutal world of publishers and editors, and follows Phillip and Erik as their friendship and personal lives are warped and impacted by the vagaries of fortune and life.

There is a lot in the script (by Madeleine Fant and Aslaug Konradsdottir) that captures the writer’s experience, from the adoration and hero worship of an older writer who has shaped their creative sensibilities—in Phillip and Erik’s case, Sten Egil Dahl, played by Sigmund Saeverud—to finding the right spot for that first novel on already crowded bookshelves, to that scathing first review; moments and feelings common to those who live by the pen.
With a bemused understanding that never devolves into melodramatic sentimentality, Reprise touches on the writer’s life, on the pervasive uncertainty of it all, and the delicate, underlying hope that informs the myriad possibilities that branch out from a single moment. The fractured, non-linear nature of the narrative not only reinforces that notion, it also suggests the fragile quality of the mental state while in the grip of creativity.

And while Reprise also features other characters—the writers are part of a group of five, and the pair each have girlfriends—the film is still very focused on Phillip’s and Erik’s lives and their relationship.
This is where Trier’s film goes beyond the writer’s sphere, as it charts the flux of time and life and possibilities.
Fortunately, the cast, notably Lie and Hoiner, submit understated, naturalistic performances that capture the script’s emotions without overblowing them into weepy Hollywood Moments.
There is also a delicate uncertainty regarding the film’s denoeument and a suddenness to its ending that, paradoxically, only reinforces the whole, capping off a fascinating and moving look at a life lived in service to the word.

Apologies if I’m waxing a little too poetic about Reprise, but of course, it’s because I’m a writer myself, so I know where this story is coming from.
Alternately though, one must consider that since I am a writer, I’d be predisposed to be more exacting with Reprise than I would be with, say, a film about an accountant or a plumber. The fact that Trier and company not only meet my expectations, but also manage to take me on a journey where the next turn—and the eventual destination—is never quite predictable (always a massive plus), makes this a film I heartily recommend.
And since Reprise steers well clear of the Hallmark school of schmaltzy sentimentality, has the wit to have fun with its subject matter without making fun of it, and gets to sneak in some Joy Division and New Order, well, that just seals the deal for me.

(Reprise UK quad courtesy of impawards.com.)

Thursday, December 13, 2007






CONTROL
(Review)

“Existence;
Well, what does it matter?
I exist on the best terms I can.
The past is now part of my future;
The present is well out of hand.”
-- Joy Division
“Heart and Soul”

On May 18, 1980, Ian Curtis, lead singer of Joy Division, hung himself, leaving a wife, a baby girl, and three quarters of a band that would, in one of the most miraculous resurrections in musical history, subsequently become New Order.
Anton Corbijn’s feature film debut, Control, based on the biography Touching from a Distance: Ian Curtis and Joy Division (written by Curtis’ widow, Deborah) is the story behind that suicide.

Kicking off with a voice-over of lyrics from “Heart and Soul” and covering a period of time running from 1973—when Curtis (played by Sam Riley) was a 16-year old experimenting with prescription drugs and listening to David Bowie—to that fateful day, just one day before Joy Division was set to leave for a 2-week US tour that was to be their big break, Control moves fluidly through the highlights and turning points of Curtis’ later life and career.
From his early marriage to Debbie (the amazing Samantha Morton), to the band’s debut as Warsaw, to the recording of the first Joy Division EP, An Ideal For Living—the studio time for which was paid for from out of the Curtis’ pockets—to Curtis’ first serious epileptic fit (and its unassuming precursor), to the attempted overdose and the infamous April 8 Derby Hall gig/riot, Control charts the young singer’s movements as he dealt with the pressures of marriage and fatherhood, and the life of a struggling musician diagnosed with epilepsy.
The fact that music video director Corbijn helms Control is only apt, given that he was actually there, running in the band’s circle, at the very time it was all taking place. In fact, Control feels rather like a family reunion, as two of the film’s co-producers are Deborah Curtis and Tony Wilson (played here by Craig Parkinson), who ran the legendary Factory Records, to which Joy Division, and later, New Order, were signed.

While Matt Greenhalgh’s script does not conveniently underline the precise psychology of Curtis (we never really understand the exact motivations behind some of his impulsive decisions—let’s get married, let’s have a baby), Corbijn nonetheless presents us with an affecting, impressionistic portrait of the young, tortured soul that was Ian Curtis.
And while his relationships with the two women in his life (wife Debbie and lover Annik Honore—played by Alexandra Maria Lara, also in Francis Ford Coppola’s Youth Without Youth) may make him seem to some an indecisive twat, what is undeniable is the anxiety he felt in the double-headed shadow of his epilepsy and the side effects of the medication he was taking.
Clearly, Control’s cinematographer, Martin Ruhe, helps things along tremendously, preserving Corbijn’s photographer’s eye for composition, while capturing the emotions behind the moment.
But while Control may look pretty, what seals the deal are the performances.

First off, though both Morton and Lara have notable performances here, Control is quite clearly Sam Riley’s show.
It is perhaps only proper that Riley’s Ian Curtis is largely an enigmatic figure throughout most of the film’s running time. After all, if his own wife and lover could not fathom him then, who’s to say that an audience a quarter of a century removed from the events in question could do so?
Playing a character that remains to a certain extent oblique while at the same time not frustrating and alienating the audience is a delicate balancing act, and in this light, Riley’s performance is undeniably impressive. While introverted and moody in the regular world, on-stage or in the studio, performing Joy Division standards, his Curtis is frighteningly magnetic, as was the real one.
The fact that all, save four, of the Joy Division songs featured in Control, were actually sung and performed by Riley and his fellow actors—James Anthony Pearson as Bernard Sumner (who would go on to be New Order’s front man), Brothers of the Head’s Harry Treadaway as drummer Stephen Morris, and Across the Universe’s Joe Anderson as bassist Peter Hook—speaks volumes to the amount of preparation and level of dedication all concerned had for the film and its subject matter.

Of the three original Joy Division tracks used—“No Love Lost,” “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” and “Atmosphere”—the latter two are deployed rather effectively during a couple of key sequences.
The choice to have The Killers cover “Shadowplay” (which plays at the tail of the end credits) is curious though, given how Riley and company so skillfully and hauntingly channeled the ghost of Joy Division over the course of the film.

Still, even with that wee niggle as the end credits wrap up, Control remains a brilliant and moving piece of cinema, capturing a singular moment in pop culture history, as the darkly bleak beauty of Joy Division’s music reached out to legions of the alienated and disenfranchised, influencing and inspiring a wide array of musicians who would come after, from U2 to Trent Reznor to The Smashing Pumpkins.
And though Control may not completely answer the questions that have arisen around the mythical figure of Ian Curtis, it nonetheless sheds a light on that time, and on the people who lived through it. It’s a fitting testament to the artistry and humanity of Ian Curtis, as well as a testament to the band that was, that served as the foundation for the band that it eventually came to be.

Control is also the perfect companion piece to Michael Winterbottom’s awesome 24 Hour Party People, which chronicles the rise and fall of Tony Wilson’s Factory Records. (The first half of 24 Hour Party People can be seen as the Joy Division era, while the second half can be viewed as the New Order era, though there are some Happy Mondays thrown in there as well.)
Now if only someone would write and direct a film that follows the aftermath of Curtis’ death, as Barney, Steve, and Hooky picked up the pieces and rose from the ashes as New Order, recruiting Gillian Gilbert—who actually appears in Control, as played by Lotti Closs—along the way. That would make for a fantastic cinematic troika.*

Coda: Given how he ended up, it’s tempting to say that Curtis was ultimately a weak human being, but that would be an unfair and gross oversimplification. No one will ever really know what happened during his final hours, and what his thoughts were before he took his life.
In the end, perhaps it’s only right that, in all probability, all the answers the curious may seek are in Joy Division’s music.
Perhaps they always have been, if only we listen hard enough.

“I think all of us made the mistake of not thinking his suicide was going to happen […] We all completely underestimated the danger. We didn’t take it seriously. That’s how stupid we were.”
-- Tony Wilson (May 2005)

“This sounds awful but it was only after Ian died that we sat down and listened to the lyrics. You’d find yourself thinking, ‘Oh my God, I missed this one.’ Because I’d look at Ian’s lyrics and think how clever he was putting himself in the position of someone else. I never believed he was writing about himself. Looking back, how could I have been so bleedin’ stupid? Of course he was writing about himself. But I didn’t go in and grab him and ask, ‘What’s up?’ I have to live with that.”
-- Stephen Morris (August 2007)

“And we would go on as though nothing was wrong,
And hide from these days we remained all alone.
Staying in the same place, just staying out the time.
Touching from a distance,
Further all the time.”
-- Joy Division
“Transmission”

* As much as some of this is covered in 24 Hour Party People, Winterbottom’s film is still one about Tony Wilson’s life, and the bits of the New Order saga that are in there, are present because of the role they played in the Factory Records saga.

Parting shot: Brilliant (yet difficult) record producer Martin Hannett, makes a brief appearance in Control, at the consoles while Curtis lays down the vocal track for “Isolation.”
Ben Naylor plays him here, while Gollum himself, Andy Serkis, played Hannett in 24 Hour Party People.
And whilst on the subject of 24 Hour Party People, it should be noted that Riley also appeared there, playing The Fall’s frontman, Mark E Smith.

Parting shot 2: Control’s end credits thank a number of familiar names, among them, Peter Saville (who designed classic Joy Division and New Order record sleeves, and who, sadly, does not appear in Control, as he did in 24 Hour Party People, as played by Enzo Cilenti), Depeche Mode’s Martin L.Gore, New Order, and Ian McCulloch and Will Sergeant (for the Bunnygod image).
The credits also thank The National Society for Epilepsy (NSE), an organization “seeking a seizure free life for everyone.” For more information about epilepsy, go to http://www.epilepsynse.org.uk/.

(Control UK quad courtesy of impawards.com; Touching from a Distance: Ian Curtis and Joy Division cover art courtesy of barnesandnoble.com; record sleeve art [An Ideal For Living EP; “Atmosphere” UK 12”; and “Love Will Tear Us Apart” UK 12”] courtesy of eil.com.)