A Rundown of the 13 Best Horror Movies I've Seen in the Past Year

[13 of 13]

THE NEON DEMON

(May 2016)

"One morning I woke up and realised I was both surrounded and dominated by women. Strangely, a sudden urge was planted in me to make a horror film about vicious beauty. After making Drive and falling madly in love with the electricity of Los Angeles, I knew I had to return to tell the story of The Neon Demon.”
--Nicolas Winding Refn

Nicolas Winding Refn’s The Neon Demon opens with an artfully posed--and apparently dead--female body, subject to the cold, hard male gaze, and its mechanical extension, the camera.

Much can be gleaned from that single, provocative image regarding some of Refn’s thematic concerns for this, his 10^th feature.

“Once you hit 21 in this industry, you’re so irrelevant.”

“Try 20.”

“True.”

Following Jesse (Elle Fanning), newly arrived in L.A. to try her luck as a fashion model, The Neon Demon--which began its developmental life under the title I Walk with the Dead--is Refn’s first attempt at a horror film, and it certainly is that, albeit a horror film as told through the filter of the NWR aesthetic.

“True beauty is the highest currency we have.

“Now, without it, she would be nothing.”

My first brush with Refn’s work was Fear X, which, honestly, I wasn’t too thrilled about. I had missed his earlier titles, Pusher and Bleeder, as I also subsequently missed the Pusher sequels, and Bronson.

I checked out Valhalla Rising, but again, like Fear X, it didn’t quite take with me.

But Drive changed all that. Drive was the NWR title that solidly kicked my film geek a$$.

And though his follow-up, Only God Forgives, was not as well-received by the wider film critic community, I absolutely loved it.

So when word broke about his next film being a “horror movie/sex thriller,” I was so in.

And now, after a title change and two female co-writers brought on board (British playwright Polly Stenham and Mary Laws, who’s also written for AMC’s Preacher adaptation), here we are, and I am so happy that my film geek love for Refn continues unabated.

“You know what my mother used to call me? ‘Dangerous.’

“‘You’re a dangerous girl.’

“She was right. I am dangerous.”

With familiar genre faces that include Jena Malone and Keanu Reeves (as skeezy dirtbag motel manager, Hank), and another killer Cliff Martinez soundtrack, The Neon Demon is slick, disturbingly erotic, and hallucinatory, much like the fashion industry itself.

It’s about appearances and facades, and the casually cruel nature of the modeling business, where everyone is merely meat, complete with respective expiration dates.

“I can’t sing. I can’t dance. I can’t write. No real talent.

“But I’m pretty… and I can make money off pretty.”

Parting Shot: Given its setting and subject matter, this is a perfect companion piece to ¡Qué horror! 2015 title, Starry Eyes.

Parting Shot 2: And so it goes.
Another October and another ¡Qué horror! rundown.

A Happy Halloween to everyone, and hopefully, you’ll check out some of these titles for your Halloween viewing.

(The Neon Demon OS’ courtesy of bloody-disgusting.com, dailydead.com, impawards.com, and shocktillyoudrop.com.)

¡QUÉ HORROR! 2016

Candidate #18

THE NEON DEMON

(May 2016)

"One morning I woke up and realised I was both surrounded and dominated by women. Strangely, a sudden urge was planted in me to make a horror film about vicious beauty. After making Drive and falling madly in love with the electricity of Los Angeles, I knew I had to return to tell the story of The Neon Demon.”
--Nicolas Winding Refn

Nicolas Winding Refn’s The Neon Demon opens with an artfully posed--and apparently dead--female body, subject to the cold, hard male gaze, and its mechanical extension, the camera.

Much can be gleaned from that single, provocative image regarding some of Refn’s thematic concerns for this, his 10^th feature.

“Once you hit 21 in this industry, you’re so irrelevant.”

“Try 20.”

“True.”

Following Jesse (Elle Fanning), newly arrived in L.A. to try her luck as a fashion model, The Neon Demon--which began its developmental life under the title I Walk with the Dead--is Refn’s first attempt at a horror film, and it certainly is that, albeit a horror film as told through the filter of the NWR aesthetic.

“True beauty is the highest currency we have.

“Now, without it, she would be nothing.”

My first brush with Refn’s work was Fear X, which, honestly, I wasn’t too thrilled about. I had missed his earlier titles, Pusher and Bleeder, as I also subsequently missed the Pusher sequels, and Bronson.

I checked out Valhalla Rising, but again, like Fear X, it didn’t quite take with me.

But Drive changed all that. Drive was the NWR title that solidly kicked my film geek a$$.

And though his follow-up, Only God Forgives, was not as well-received by the wider film critic community, I absolutely loved it.

So when word broke about his next film being a “horror movie/sex thriller,” I was so in.

And now, after a title change and two female co-writers brought on board (British playwright Polly Stenham and Mary Laws, who’s also written for AMC’s Preacher adaptation), here we are, and I am so happy that my film geek love for Refn continues unabated.

“You know what my mother used to call me? ‘Dangerous.’

“‘You’re a dangerous girl.’

“She was right. I am dangerous.”

With familiar genre faces that include Jena Malone and Keanu Reeves (as skeezy dirtbag motel manager, Hank), and another killer Cliff Martinez soundtrack, The Neon Demon is slick, disturbingly erotic, and hallucinatory, much like the fashion industry itself.

It’s about appearances and facades, and the casually cruel nature of the modeling business, where everyone is merely meat, complete with respective expiration dates.

“I can’t sing. I can’t dance. I can’t write. No real talent.

“But I’m pretty… and I can make money off pretty.”

Parting Shot: Given its setting and subject matter, this is a perfect companion piece to ¡Qué horror! 2015 title, Starry Eyes.

(The Neon Demon OS’ courtesy of bloody-disgusting.com, dailydead.com, impawards.com, and shocktillyoudrop.com.)

AFTERTHOUGHTS (97)
EMPIRE’S! 50! GREATEST! COMIC! BOOK! CHARACTERS! [3 of 5]
THE SANDMAN EDITION

Well, we’re still waiting on what will reportedly be Neil Gaiman’s directorial debut with the Death film adaptation, for which he prepared by visiting Guillermo del Toro on the Hellboy 2 location shoot, to experience first-hand, the rigours of film-making.
Till we find out who gets to play the ultimate Goth girl though, here’re the two Endless who made Empire’s cut.


15 Death (aka Teleute)
It’s a strange one, this; mystifying, on the face of it.
Death’s own comic is just good, not brilliant; she doesn’t appear much in Sandman, and she’s not nearly as nuanced a character as Sandman himself, or their younger sister Delirium (formerly Delight).
But from the moment she appeared, she’s been wildly popular with fans, won over by this bright, cheery figure in place of the traditional skeletal Reaper.


Perhaps it’s because Death’s duties make such cheerfulness double-edged, and because she has an air of mystery about her that gives her incalculable depth.
What’s more, she’s the wise elder sister that everyone wishes they had, far more pulled together and at peace than any of the other Endless (except, perhaps, Destiny), and she gets to tie the whole series together come its final act.
A perfect demonstration that the best characters needn’t be overworked, and that the grim reaper doesn’t have to be grim.
FIRST APPEARED IN THE SANDMAN #8 (1989)
CREATED BY NEIL GAIMAN


6 Dream (aka: Morpheus, The Sandman, Oneiros, The Dream King, The Lord Shaper, Kai’ckul, etc…)
Ironically, Dream is not the most popular character in his own series (Death, already mentioned, takes that honour), but he is the best.
Neil Gaiman’s creation bore little resemblance to previous iterations, being a tall, pasty-faced Goth-type with unruly dark hair (usually—his appearance is subject to change without notice) rather than the hitherto-traditional white bearded sage.


Despite his near omnipotence, he is continually embroiled in schemes by his family (Destiny, Death, Desire, Despair, Destruction and Delirium) and the subjects of his dream kingdom, as well as having duties to protect (or destroy) humans with whom he comes into contact.
Over the course of his series, which takes him from prison to the ends of the universe, Dream truly learns and grows—which is rare enough on its own among comics to entirely justify his book’s reputation—but also takes us through mythology, history and pure, barmy, Gaiman invention.
As tragic heroes go, he is, quite literally, godlike.
FIRST APPEARED IN THE SANDMAN #1 (1989)
CREATED BY NEIL GAIMAN

Among the other characters to appear on Empire’s list, are two others who have connections to the Dream King: Swamp Thing (29) and John Constantine (3).
An Americanized version of the latter was played by Keanu Reeves in Francis Lawrence’s Constantine—a review of which can be found in the Archive.
(I initially toyed with the idea of calling this part “The Vertigo Edition” and covering all four of the characters, but the truth is, all these characters were created before the Vertigo imprint served to collect them all under one umbrella. Ultimately, this seemed the better approach.)

The above write-ups are from Empire’s list.
For more on the above characters, just click on their names; the entire list will be accessible from there.

In Part 4—Afterthoughts (98)—we note some characters from DC’s Batman franchise.

(Images courtesy of dccomics.com [Death, art by Dave McKean; Dream, art by Michael Zulli; The Endless, art by Frank Quitely] and vamp.org [panel from The Sandman 8, “The Sound of Her Wings,” art by Mike Dringenberg].)

reVIEW (36)
THE DOOM GENERATION

The following was originally published on November 4, 1996, as one half of “Apocalypses,” a look at pieces of popular culture as the turn of the millennium approached. So this review will be properly received in the context in which it was presented, I opted to run the introduction to “Apocalypses” first, before getting to the review proper.
So, without any further ado…

We’re at the tail end of 1996, and there are about 38 months left in this millennium.* These are the end times, the final days, when culture and society become gripped with the fear of the unknown being right around the next corner.
Anyone can see that these are dark and turbulent times, the chaotic undertows of countercultures and splinter religions coursing through the already overflowing tributaries of the global village.
Technology is on the fast lane on the autobahn of progress, taking white-hot leaps forward in a stutter-skip flurry towards some as yet unseen destination. Industry rampages on, crime rates rise. According to WHO, the current worldwide estimate of 14 million AIDS-afflicted people could rise to as much as 40 million by the year 2000.
Dark and turbulent times, indeed.
And, as works of art are wont to mirror the times in which they were created, then it is safe to say that they are as much a valid mirror in which to view the events shaping the world, as the events themselves.

Thus, I have decided to share the millennium fever with you, children, through a close look at Gregg Araki’s The Doom Generation, a film informed by the impending change promised by a new era, and the effects of the expectancy of that change on mankind.
To dispel any misconceptions though, this isn’t part of a doom-and-gloom countdown to Armageddon 2000. This is just an interesting way to spend the remaining days of the second millennium, glimpsing the world through the eyes of one of its visionaries, sharing in the glory and the squalor of the sights he sees.
We are among the privileged few, to have the honour of bearing witness to the end of one millennium and the birth of a new one. These are days we should never forget.
And for those of you who’d rather bury your heads in the sand, think on this—no matter how many Disney feel-good movies you see, the big 2K will arrive. And whatever may happen when we turn that pivotal corner, one thing is certain: there will be changes.
These are the final days, children.
Enjoy them while you still can.


“The world sucks.”
-- Amy

The Doom Generation opens with strobic, staccato shots of clubbing kids, with Trent Reznor roaring out “Heresy” (“If there is a Hell, I’ll see you there…”) over the audio track.
Thus begins this bizarre road movie by way of David Lynch, and quite possibly, George Romero. And if that description isn’t enough to grab you, it’s also got a biting soundtrack to kill for.
As Xavier Red (Johnathon Schaech), Jordan White (James Duval), and Amy Blue (Rose McGowan) move from one motel to another, from one convenience store to the next, from one mistaken identity to another, they are accompanied by the slamming sounds of the likes of Front 242, Belly, The Verve, The Cocteau Twins, Lush, The Jesus and Mary Chain, Bigod 20, Medicine, God Lives Underwater, Pizzicato Five, Slowdive, Aphex Twin, Love and Rockets, Meat Beat Manifesto, and MC 900 Ft. Jesus. (All of Skinny Puppy even appear as the group of goons beating up on Xavier during the first few minutes of the film.)
This party is definitely happening.

A wicked study of today’s American youth and their place (or lack thereof) in these end times, writer/director Gregg Araki exposes the inevitably pointless existence of the trio—and by extension, America’s youth—by making them travel through a whacked-out panorama of surreal situations and characters. (According to the end credits, the film was “photographed on location in Hell.”)
The world of The Doom Generation is one where there are Headless Horseman Motels and fast food joints called Carnoburger, where getting stuck in traffic is likened to being “a gerbil smothering in Richard Gere’s butthole” and sex is “kinda like eating spaghetti.”
It is a world of the absurd and the ultraviolent, where swords get stuck in people’s crotches and characters beat their meat and do funky things with their jism.
Sounds a lot like the real world, doesn’t it? And in a certain sense, it is.
Filtered through the eye of Araki though, it becomes something far more than that. It becomes a gonzo hyperreality of cartoon violence (one-upping both Natural Born Killers and the news report in From Dusk Till Dawn) and incessant sex.
As the film’s tagline goes, “Sex. Violence. Whatever.”
Truer words were never spoken.

Though the journey Araki takes us on is, ultimately, a grim one, there are still plenty of laughs along the way.
There are all the doomsayer slogans that we see, from THE RAPTURE IS COMING to PREPARE FOR THE APOCALYPSE, that, considering the trio’s situation, become the sharpest of visual barbs.
Then there’s the running Number of the Beast gag, delivered by such familiar faces as Dustin Nguyen (with the unlikely name of Win Cock Suk), Perry Farrell (of Jane’s Addiction and Porno For Pyros), and infamous Hollywood madame, Heidi Fleiss.
Clearly, there are laughs in this film—for those with the sense of humour to hack it.

“Scooter was so sad all the time. Me and him used to sit in my room getting stoned listening to The Smiths. Like he was over, the night before he killed himself. Right in the middle of “Unloveable,” he just started crying like crazy.
“He was really into The Smiths.”
-- Jordan

Repeatedly, we are reminded that the three principals of the film are directionless, lost and constantly in search of their proper place in the scheme of things.
And in Amy’s case, her predicament can at least be partially blamed on her upbringing, her mother being both an addict and a Scientologist, while her father, before he died, would try in vain to molest her.
Here is a picture of the youth who don’t see any point in all that existentialist crap because, for them, existence is a whole load of steaming excrement in the first place.
When asked if they ever wondered why they exist, Xavier replies, “No. What for?” while Amy answers breathlessly, “I’m supposed to come, can we talk about this later?”

There is one telling scene in the film, indicating just how far we’ve come down the road as a species, of just how desensitized we’ve become.
It involves an animal, and you’ll know it when you see it.
After inadvertently causing the deaths of six human beings, the three principals are suddenly overcome by grief over the fate of a so-called “lower life form,” and what Araki could be saying here is, no one is truly innocent anymore, save perhaps for those lower life forms, which have no sense of sin.

“’I love you’ can mean a lot of things. Like ‘You’ll do till someone better comes along.’ Or ‘I can’t describe how I really feel but I know I’m supposed to say this.’ Or ‘Shut up. I’m watching TV.’”
-- Jordan

Aside from all that, The Doom Generation is also about relationships, and how mutable they can be in this day and age. This facet of the film is helped along tremendously by the three main performers, who quite ably fill the shoes of their respective roles.
Duval’s Jordan makes a perfect parody of Keanu Reeves, and surprisingly, comes across as the most sensible and loving—the most human—of the three principals.
Schaech’s Xavier, the mysterious stranger who falls into the lives of Amy and Jordan, is brilliant as the source of tension. Exuding an interesting air of bisexuality, Schaech goes a long way in keeping the character exchanges interesting.
Finally, McGowan’s Amy (a.k.a. Sunshine, Kitten, and Bambi) does a commendable job of playing the in-betweener, professing to love Jordan and yet tantalized by Xavier, despite her vocal protestations.


“I saw it on TV, so it’s gotta be true.”
-- Xavier

All wrapped up and ready for take-out, The Doom Generation is a rollicking ride through a Hell that looks uncomfortably too similar to the world we all call home.
Quite possibly just as caustic a portrayal of American youth as Kids, The Doom Generation is partially clothed in the cerements of black humour and absurdist storytelling, making it, arguably, a more entertaining film, something you’d possibly look forward to watching again (unlike the hard-hitting quasi-doc style adopted by Kids, which makes one flinch and squirm as the scenes flicker across the screen).
But don’t let my use of the word “entertaining” fool you. There are still some jarring sequences in The Doom Generation, among them, one which juxtaposes two traditionally revered ideas (country and religion) with violent sex; the latter juxtaposition upping the ante started by William Friedkin way back in The Exorcist.

And following in the grand tradition of the non-sequitur final line (done so well by Soderbergh in sex, lies and videotape), we have the final line of dialogue uttered by Xavier, that, in light of the scene preceding it, becomes laughable and horribly absurd.
Just like a lot of the phenomenon we call “life.”

So if this sounds like it’s up your alley, hunt that DVD down. Preferably the unrated version.
And if they don’t have it in stock, well, like Amy said, “The world sucks.” Take a number, pal.

* I know very well, of course, that technically, the end of the second millennium is the year 2000, the turn of the millennium occurring on December 31, 2000.
But everyone got hung up on that 1999-2000 turnover, I didn’t want to disappoint them…

(The Doom Generation OS courtesy of impawards.com; DVD cover art for various editions courtesy of amazon.com and amazon.co.uk.)

(The above is a slightly altered portion of “Apocalypses,” originally published in November, 1996. Much love and thanx to Karen, for letting the little bugger play in her sandbox.)

AFTERTHOUGHTS (31)
MY BLACK LIST 2007 PICKS

Okay, so if you’ve checked out Afterthoughts (30) already (and if you haven’t, scoot on over to the Archive), below are The Black List 2007 scripts that I’m excited to see hit the big screen.

Passengers by Jon Spaihts (38 mentions)
“A passenger on an intergalactic spaceship is the only one prematurely thawed out from cryogenic slumber… 100 years before anyone else.”

Reportedly being produced by Keanu Reeves, who is also attached to star. I am far from a Keanu fan, but I have managed to enjoy some films despite his presence—Dangerous Liaisons, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and The Matrix—so hopefully, this’ll be added to that list.

The Road by Joe Penhall (24 mentions)
“Based on the book by Cormac McCarthy. After a nuclear explosion, a man goes on a nightmarish road trip in order to transport his son to safety, while fending off starving stragglers and marauding packs of cannibals.”

McCarthy’s novel was once on Oprah’s Book of the Month Club (let’s not hold that against it, shall we?), and the adaptation’s being directed by John Hillcoat (The Proposition).

This Side of the Truth by Matt Robinson (17 mentions)
“Set in a world where the concept of lying doesn't exist, a loser changes his lot when he invents lying and uses it to get ahead.”

It’s a comedy from the man who graced both Seona Dancing and The Office, Ricky Gervais. What’s not to like?

Source Code by Ben Ripley (13 mentions)
“As part of an experimental government program to investigate a terrorist incident, a soldier finds himself living and reliving a series of events that take place on a commuter train just prior to the train exploding.”

Never Let Me Go by Alex Garland (7 mentions)
“Based on the book by Kazuo Ishiguro. Students at an isolated boarding school in the English countryside gradually discover that they are clones who will inevitably be harvested for organs no matter how ‘human’ they are.”

Though not necessarily an original concept, if done right, it’s a powerful one. And considering the script is by Garland (The Beach and the screenplay for 28 Days Later, among others), and the source material is a much-lauded novel from the man who also wrote the Booker Prize-winning The Remains of the Day, this should kick some serious a$$.

The Book of Eli by Gary Whitta (7 mentions)
“A lone hero must fight his way across the wasteland of postapocalyptic America to protect a sacred book that holds the key to saving the future of humanity”

Described by Whitta as “… kind of a post-apocalyptic western,” this is being directed by the Hughes Brothers (Menace II Society and From Hell).

Shelter by Karl Mueller (6 mentions)
“A group of nuclear holocaust survivors caught in a bomb shelter begin to turn on each other as they wait for rescue.”

Slumdog Millionaire by Simon Beaufoy (6 mentions)
“An illiterate kid looks to become a contestant on the Hindi version of Who Wants to Be A Millionaire in order to re-establish contact with the girl he loves, who is an ardent fan of the show.”

This is Danny Boyle’s latest, and since I loved Millions, and since this one sounds like it could be operating in a similar narrative area, I’m looking forward to it.
Plus, Beaufoy also wrote The Full Monty and Blow Dry, so I’m kind of expecting this one to be funny and uplifting too.

Valkyrie by Christopher McQuarrie (5 mentions)
“Severely wounded in combat, Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg returns from Africa to join the German Resistance and help create Operation Valkyrie, the complex plan that will allow a shadow government to replace Hitler's once he is dead. Fate and circumstance conspire to thrust Stauffenberg from one of many in the plot to a double-edged central role. Not only must he lead the coup and seize control of his nation’s government—he must kill Hitler himself.”

I am not a big Tom Cruise fan. I am, however, a big Bryan Singer fan. And since this is Singer’s reunion with The Usual Suspects scribe McQuarrie, this one is at least something I’m curious to see.
This is also the project that got in the way of Singer’s Superman sequel, so this better be worth The Man of Steel’s delay.

World War Z by J. Michael Straczynski (5 mentions)
“A sober telling of the aftermath of a war fought against a legion of humans who were inflicted with a virus, died and were re-animated into flesh-eating zombies.”

So, hey, zombies, brought to us by Straczynski, who gave the comic book world Rising Stars (what could be seen as a precursor to TV’s Heroes), based on a novel—World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War—written by a former SNL writer.
Sign me up.

The Wrestler by Robert Siegel (5 mentions)
“Randy ‘The Ram’ Robinson, a 1980s-era pro wrestler, has become a burnt-out shell of his former self. After he has a heart attack during a small-time match, a doctor tells him he could die if he fights again. In an effort to build a new life, Robinson takes a job at a deli, moves in with an aging stripper and tries to build a relationship with her son. The prospect of a rematch with his old nemesis, the Ayatollah, proves too tempting to resist, even though it means risking his life.”

Not normally something I’d be interested in, but this is Darren Aronofsky’s stab at some mainstream material, so consider my curiosity piqued.
It’s also got Mickey Rourke as “The Ram,” so that’s interesting too.

Zombieland by Rhett Reese & Paul Wernick (5 mentions)
“After a zombie plague ravages America, a pair of ‘odd couple’ survivors team up to find purpose and combat the living dead in the post-apocalyptic Southwest.”

Oh ho! More zombies! More post-apocalyptic fun! From two writers on The Joe Schmo Show! Bring it on!

Darkon by John Hodgman (4 mentions)
“Every other Sunday, between 150 and 300 people gather in costume and armor to fight unchoreographed mock battles with padded weaponry. For most, it is much more than a game.”

Orphan by David Leslie Johnson (4 mentions)
“The Bad Seed with an orphan.”

That premise doesn’t really sound promising, but the cast is headlined by The Departed’s Vera Farmiga and Peter Sarsgaard (from a boatload of stuff including Boys Don’t Cry, Jarhead and the upcoming The Mysteries of Pittsburgh), so maybe this one will turn out okay.

Blindness by Don McKellar (3 mentions)
“Based on the novel by Jose Saramago. An epidemic of blindness sweeps through an unnamed contemporary city and pushes society to the brink of breakdown.”

An interesting concept vaguely reminiscent of Kazuo Yamazaki’s anime Kaze No Na Wa Amunejia (A Wind Named Amnesia)—where people lose their memories—this one’s got teeth: killer cast which includes Gael Garcia Bernal, Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo, and Maury Chaykin; written by McKellar, who not only co-wrote and appeared in Francois Girard’s excellent Le Violon Rouge (The Red Violin), he also played Yevgeny Nourish in David Cronenberg’s eXistenZ; based on Nobel-laureate Saramago’s Ensaio Sobre a Cegueira; directed by Fernando Meirelles, who brought us Cidade de Deus (City of God) and The Constant Gardener.
Need I say more?

Clash of the Titans by Travis Beacham (3 mentions)
“Zeus’ son, Perseus, journeys to save Princess Andromeda. During his adventure, he must complete various tasks set out by his father, including capturing Pegasus and slaying Medusa.”

A remake of Ray Harryhausen’s 1981 effects extravaganza—his Medusa rocks!—this one is here largely for nostalgia reasons, and because Harryhausen is a special effects pioneer and the reason why stop-motion has a solid place in my film geek’s heart.
True, this redux is most likely to sport pixels instead of clay, but I owe it to Mr. Harryhausen to see whether this one pays him fitting tribute, or stomps all over his legacy.
Hopefully, Beacham (who also wrote Neil Jordan’s upcoming Killing on Carnival Row, present on The Black List 2005) honours the spirit of the original.
And for more on Killing on Carnival Row, check out Afterthoughts (32) in the Archive.

Jeff the Immortal by Chris Bishop (3 mentions)
“A slacker discovers that he is the latest in a long line of immortal warriors who must fight to achieve his destiny.”

The Ornate Anatomy of Living Things by Matt Spicer & Max Winkler (3 mentions)
“A New York bookstore clerk discovers a museum devoted to his life.”

The title alone demands attention. And with a premise like that, how can I resist?
This one’s being produced by Jason Reitman (Thank You For Smoking and Juno).

The Wedding Party by Francesca Marciano (3 mentions)
“A wedding party during the war in Afghanistan is told from the perspective of an English officer, a Russian and an American, all of whom are the same man.”

Huh? Okay, colour me curious.

The 37th Dimension by Tom Kuntz & Griffin Creech (2 mentions)
“A classic detective noir...with some big twists.”

Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho by John McLaughlin (2 mentions)
“The true-story behind the difficult production of the classic Alfred Hitchcock film.”

Yes, I have a problem with the lengthy and rather obvious title, but this one’s got not just Sir Anthony Hopkins as Hitchcock, not just Helen Mirren as Hitchcock’s wife and collaborator, Alma Reville, but also has Nip/Tuck creator Ryan Murphy in the director’s chair.
All that, and it’s about Psycho.
Wow.

Burn After Reading by The Coen Brothers (2 mentions)
“CIA agent Osborne Cox decides to pen his memoirs and is fired from the agency. The disc containing the memoirs inadvertently gets left in a ladies locker room at a gym, where Linda and co-worker Chad, hatch a plan to sell its contents to the highest bidder.”

Like The Wrestler, this one’s got a premise that wouldn’t ordinarily catch my eye, but come on, it’s the Coens. I’ve loved these guys since they first took what they learned on Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead and rather summarily kicked my a$$ with Blood Simple.
And the cast is ridiculous: John Malkovich, Tilda Swinton, Frances McDormand, and Richard Jenkins. I may not be a big fan of either George Clooney or Brad Pitt (who also happen to be in the cast), but hey, did you see those first four names I dropped?

The Fortress of Solitude by Joshua Marston (2 mentions)
“Based on Jonathan Lethem’s novel. A white kid living in a black neighborhood of Brooklyn forms an unlikely friendship with the son of a washed-up musician.”

I loved the novel, so I’m hoping this one is good. And it’s being directed by Marston, whose Maria Full of Grace, though I haven’t seen, made quite an impression on global cinema. (And he’s got the exact same birthday as I do. How cool is that?)

Giant Monsters Attack Japan by J.F. Lawton (2 mentions)
“Prompted by a corporate transfer, a father and son move to Japan and find that all the fantastic elements of the son’s favorite Japanese movies – Godzilla, giant robots, secret ninja cults, etc. – are a real and borderline mundane aspect of everyday Japanese life. Adjusting proves difficult, hijinks ensue.”

Brilliant concept, and brought to us by the South Park boys, I hope this one amuses me the way Team America didn’t.
And yes, I realize Lawton has written everything from Pretty Woman to Under Siege to Chain Reaction to DOA: Dead or Alive to 88 (count ‘em, 88!) episodes of V.I.P. (which he also created), but the premise is really wild, so here’s hoping this one comes out as cool as it sounds.

Justice League of America by The Mulroneys (2 mentions)
“The exploits of the Justice League of America, an organization made up of the world's greatest superheroes: Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash and Green Lantern.”

I’ve talked about this one in Afterthoughts past.
And WB? We’re all still waiting for that official casting announcement…
(That is so racist, the fact that the Martian Manhunter isn’t mentioned in the League line-up.)

No Man’s Land by Jeffrey Nachmanoff (2 mentions)
“Fifty years after an alien race takes over earth, a human detective investigates a rape/murder case and ultimately discovers the aliens’ true intentions.”

Of Every Wickedness by Brian McGreevey & Lee Shipman (2 mentions)
“Based on a true story: Three years before Jack the Ripper shocked London and the world, a murderer terrorized the dusty streets of Austin, TX, in what would become the first recorded serial killings in American history.”

If you’ve been ‘round these parts before, you’ll know I’m into serial killers just as much as zombies, so this one was bound to get me curious.

Unique by Michael Cooney (2 mentions)
“Jon Geoffries discovers the Earth has a twin, a parallel world in another dimension. The worlds are closely linked, explaining such phenomena as deja vu and love at first sight, with people having counterparts on both Earths. However, a few are born "unique," with no doppelgangers, and can travel between worlds. Geoffries is one such person and soon finds himself a target of enemies who want to exploit his connection.”

Yeah, I had big problems with Identity, which Cooney also wrote, and David Goyer, who’s directing, has got a spotty track record, but again, the premise sounds great, so I hope this one doesn’t get botched.
Incidentally, Cooney’s also got another script entitled Shelter, which should not be confused with Karl Mueller’s Shelter, mentioned above. Cooney’s Shelter, like Identity, also has to do with multiple personality disorder.

Will by Demetri Martin (2 mentions)
“A young man discovers love after he develops complete free will when the angel who writes his destiny (not unlike an author) forgets to finish writing after page thirty-five.”

So there you go, some films to look forward to.
If you want to download PDFs of The Black Lists 2005 to 2007, go here, and if you want to check out more Black List 2007 stuff (like the top 5 scripts and other neat-o bits), go to Afterthoughts (32) in the Archive.

(Book cover art courtesy of amazon.com [The Road; Never Let Me Go; and World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War] and barnesandnoble.com [Blindness and The Fortress of Solitude].)

reVIEW (21)
CONSTANTINE

Don’t believe the travel brochures.
Hell’s a great place to visit. Really. And you don’t even need a visa, just a container of water and a cat in your lap.
Just take a look at Constantine, a film which kicks off (after some short preliminaries) with an exorcism in a Filipino community in L.A., a sequence designed to firmly establish that this is NOT your father’s Exorcist. No creaky old Max Von Sydow chanting “The power of Christ compels you…” here; in this movie, all you need to smite some demon butt is a mirror and Keanu Reeves.

Based on Hellblazer, the DC comic from its Vertigo line of titles (non-superhero, and geared to a more mature audience), Constantine pretty much captures a certain aspect of the comic: the backstreet, DIY nature of John Constantine’s brand of magic—no chanting, no rituals, and no explanations. Stick your feet (still in their shoes, mind you) in a container of water, and presto, you get to visit Hell. Why? Because it works that way.
Now, in the comic, these little tricks fly because the writers and artists are able to create a world where stuff like this actually makes some strange sort of sense, a world where the bizarre belongs. A world with atmosphere.
Tragically, Francis Lawrence, who directed Constantine, is the kind of music video director who thinks atmosphere is something you see, rather than feel, the kind of music video director who seems to be after the pretty shot, and not much else.*

Take the film’s Hell. It’s got that post-apocalyptic L.A. After the Bomb look, with lots of open-headed CGI nasties scrambling about, but it doesn’t really convey a true sense of the Kingdom of Pain, no brimstone whiff of genuine Hellishness. The Mongolian hordes on a Sunday at Megamall are far more vicious and intimidating. Now that’s what I call “Hell.”
And, granted, the film does have its moments (Constantine battling demon half-breeds in a rain of holy water; the divine Tilda Swinton’s Gabriel getting down to business; Shia LaBeouf‘s Chas, in his final, post-end credits shot), but they’re too few, and too far between, to make any real sort of impact on the whole; a whole that ends up being a badly-paced, plodding affair, with a plot of the connect-the-dots school: bump off minor characters A and B to get major characters C and D to points E and F.

Now, though I’m dead certain there’ll be Hellblazer fans out there who’ll belabor the point that this is not the John Constantine of the comic book, that, Heavens to Murgatroid, Constantine isn’t even American, personally, I think the real problem is more that Constantine wasn’t just turned into any old Yank, he was turned into… duuude… Keanu!
Though I’ve managed to enjoy some films despite his presence (The Matrix, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Dangerous Liaisons), Reeves simply doesn’t have either the acting chops or the gravitas to pull off the complexity of John Constantine, the likeable rogue, the anti-hero scoundrel haunted by far too many ghosts, playing both sides off against the middle, trying to buy his way into Heaven while struggling to keep just one step ahead of the Reaper. None of that is in evidence here. Instead, all he does is smoke, add a husky register to his voice, and look testy and vaguely constipated.

And though Rachel Weisz (of The Mummy films) tries gamely to give dimension to her conflicted Catholic cop Angela Dodson, she suffers, acting opposite the likes of Reeves. Performance-wise, the high points of Constantine are Tilda Swinton (Young Adam, The Deep End), whose androgynous beauty is perfect for Gabriel, and Pruitt Taylor Vince (Identity, S1m0ne) as Father Hennessy.
The rest of the cast are sabotaged, either by a script that leaves their characters underdeveloped and unexplored (like LaBeouf‘s Chas, who comes off as too much the loyal, eager puppy ready to learn), or because they’re forced to act alongside you-know-who.
Then of course, there’s Gavin Rossdale. Casting Bush’s front man as demon half-breed Balthazar might have been a good idea, if Rossdale could actually carry a scene, but there’s just too much of the preening rock star in him; he’s not acting, he’s performing. The confrontation between Constantine and Balthazar towards film’s end is a bizarre moment where the audience is watching the collision of a quasar and a black hole. I have no idea what that is in astronomical terms, but it’s something I don’t care to see again.
And please, don’t get me started on Peter (Spun, Fargo) Stormare’s Devil.

In the end, Constantine isn’t a complete loss. Like I said, it has its moments, and you do get to visit Hell without all the unpleasantness advertised in the brochures.
Just don’t expect too much, and Heavens to Murgatroid, don’t expect Hellblazer.
Do that, and you may actually not regret having seen the film.

* Please don’t think I’m being a snob here. There are video directors out there who understand atmosphere: David Fincher (Fight Club), Spike Jonze (Being John Malkovich), Mark Romanek (One Hour Photo), Michel Gondry (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind). Lawrence, though…

(Constantine OS courtesy of impawards.com.)

(The above is a slightly altered version of a previously published review entitled “To Hell and Back.”)