Podcast: The Whittling Post Digest - Episode 02

A weekly roundup of my cultural experiences in podcast form! The average adventures of a geek with too much time on his hands. Not to be confused with better, more professional cultural review podcasts, of which there are plenty.

THIS WEEK: FROM DUSK TILL DAWK 1 & 2, THE WILD BUNCH, LIVE VIDEO GAME STREAMING, GUIDED BY VOICES, BATMAN: THE KILLING JOKE, MASKERADE and MORE!

Podcast: The Whittling Post Digest - Episode 01

A weekly cultural roundup in podcast form! The average adventures of a geek with too much time on his hands. Not to be confused with better, more professional cultural review podcasts, of which there are plenty.

THIS WEEK: GODZILLA, THIS ISLAND EARTH, MAX PAYNE 3, DISCWORLD, THE BOY IN THE DRESS, SAVE DEVONSHIRE STREET and MORE!

Hammer: Dracula (1958) - film review

I guess I'm doing this season of Hammer horror films in descending order of critical acclaim or popularity. As I said in my last post, I've not approached this very scientifically but, well, I think scientifically enough that I believe I've picked the right films to look at.

So, first up is 1958's Dracula, which in America was retitled Horror of Dracula to avoid confusion with other Dracula films. But I think by now there's been so many of varying and also similar names that a simple date in brackets after the title is really a must.

My first impression of this film was very good, but that ended kind of quickly. The title sequence is great and the music by James Bernard scored gloriously over it sets the chilling tone well. I almost got goose bumps while the camera tracked around what I think is a stone gargoyle or angel. But as the film starts we're left with the fairly lifeless John Van Eyssen as Jonathan Harker to guide us into the piece. I've only read about a third of the original book, but as I remember Jonathan's meant to be quite wide-eyed and meek, but Van Eyssen plays him colder, harder, which reflects an important change to his character, but any familiarity with the book will render the viewer a little confused. In fact he's actually slightly creepier than Dracula himself, I'd say.

Changes to the book are a big part of this film, as many were made to condense the goings on for budgetary reasons. That's fine, really, and they do it in smart ways and never change anything for the worse. Once you realise that its only going to casually follow the events of the book then your mind opens up to new ideas.

The film struck me as similar to the Roger Corman adaptations of Poe's work I watched recently. It all looks nice and is finely acted but there's little in the way of showy filmmaking. The flashier bits are wisely saved for the grand moments of horror, which stand out very well. I wasn't expecting stakes to be plunged into women's hearts quite so explicitly, which was kinda cool in a gross-out sort of way.

The low budget stands out most of all in the exterior representation of Dracula's "castle", which here just looks like a nice English country manor... and probably was.

Christopher Lee must have been a little bored on set because he has sod all to say after the opening scenes and remains very much an off-screen threat like the alien in, erm, Alien. His appearances are brief but when they are they're very crucial. So really this is Peter Cushing's show, which is reflected in the order the cast are credited in.

The female cast members are great, including Melissa Stribling, Carol Marsh and Valerie Gaunt. Marsh in fact has a particularly disturbing scene where she tries to lure a child to her possible doom that mirrors the Moors murders a little. I found that quite upsetting.

The cinematography by Jack Asher seemed subdued to me. At the start I wasn't even sure it was in colour. When blood splatters on Dracula's coffin just after the title sequence (which, now that I think about it, was in red) I thought it was going to stay in black and white and only have colour for the gore. But no, it's all colour. I think that's my eyesight getting worse as I had the same problem with Corman's The Haunted Palace. Shame. Maybe that's why I've been buying up so many films recently - I want to see them all before it's too late and my film viewing days are over.

From watching the retrospective documentary on the bonus disc the general opinion seems to be that while this is the most confident and probably the flagship Hammer film, it isn't necessarily the best. Which bodes well for me as I have a fair few to get through.

I enjoyed Dracula but I can't say it was a revelation of an experience. Maybe the more obscure and "bad" ones will be more up my street.

We shall see.

Confessions of a Hammer Horror Noob

After my marathon of Roger Corman's eight Edgar Allan Poe horror films last week I started to think about the unfamiliar classic b-movie horror genre in general and whether it might be good for me to, well, "go swimming" as it were in a pool of celluloid blood. Or something.

Even though I've watched my fair share of horror films I think it's safe to say that I'm a horror newbie with a lot more to learn, but with the horror genre being such a popular one at the moment there's clearly buckets and buckets of gory screen outings to trawl through of varying quality. Too many, you might say. Or say with absolute certainty.

So where do I start? How do I decide which to try and which to steer clear of? And what's the best overall purchase to make in order to compile the best collection possible?

What instantly came to mind was Hammer - a name that to me means drab, dated 70s British rural chillers, but I think that's because I've just not seen the right ones over the years, and after a little looking around I found there might be more in it than merely dodgy hairstyles, dour cinematography and cheap locations.

So I managed to dig up around ten or so websites/blogs that list their favourite/what they think are the best Hammer horror films. I've made no note of the sites and, to be honest, I've probably made the odd mistake here and there (ain't I a pro?!), but basically here are the fifteen films that cropped up the most (in descending order of the number of mentions):

x10
Dracula AKA Horror of Dracula (1958)
The Curse of Frankenstein

x8
Curse of the Werewolf

x7
The Devil Rides Out

x6
Dr. Jekyll & Sister Hyde
The Hound of the Baskervilles
The Brides of Dracula           

x5
The Plague of the Zombies
The Mummy

x4
Twins of Evil
Quatermass and the Pit
The Revenge of Frankenstein
Dracula, Prince of Darkness
The Vampire Lovers
Vampire Circus

So there you are. I think it's now time to go shopping and start building up my collection. No marathon this time, methinks, as I might end up with too many for that sort of thing, but a season certainly!

Are there any personal recommendations that you can make? Let me know!

Thoughts on a Movie Marathon: Roger Corman's Poe Cycle

Well I had about 5 hours sleep after finishing the marathon an hour earlier than expected, but still felt a bit rough after that. I ended up burning out a couple of hours later and fell asleep on the sofa watching sitcoms, but that usually happens even on a good day so, well, there you go.

So was the marathon worth it? Yes, they were all interesting films in their own right and each very different, which was a surprise in itself. I started getting really tired and fed up halfway through Tales of Terror but had a second wind during The Raven after an internal struggle over whether to give up for the night. I must admit that during that stage I seriously asked myself: "Why are you staying up all night doing this? Why didn't you just watch them all during the day? You have plenty of free time, you fool!", which was a fair point, but I reminded myself of the four reasons I laid out in my Prelude To A Movie Marathon post which still stand as decent arguments. Plus, well, I guess it added a bit more pressure to the event - there didn't seem to be much danger in just sitting on my arse during the day like I always do.

So here are a few thoughts on each film as best that I can remember them:

THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER

This was a beautiful, still and poignant beginning. It felt like an emo's wet dream as the Usher family shuffle about in their big old house just wanting to be alone. The colours were vibrant and lush, but Corman's direction was basic point-and-shoot stuff which didn't fill be with confidence - but I was sort of expecting that. The story struck a chord with me as, like the Ushers, I've been purposefully isolating myself (mainly from my own family) since 2010 after a long bout of depression which inadvertently left a few people close to me a little upset. I see it as giving them all a break from me but, since I guess I'll be battling with depression for the rest of my life, maybe just communicating with them via the internet is for the best. But enough about me! I'd recommend this to anyone as a beautiful, sombre, period melodrama with a touch of horror at the end.

THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM

It surprised me that this took a leap back in time to be set in a completely different era. It's basically the dodgy ruff show, but that's okay. There are some great matte paintings by Albert Whitlock which made me yearn for a simpler time; in fact I've actually started to wonder whether, as people get desensitised and maybe even sick of CGI, the art of handcrafted special effects and illusion in film will make a return. I must admit that this was the first but perhaps only film where I was imagining the parody as it went along. Not as striking as Usher but very much a worthwhile watch.

THE PREMATURE BURIAL

This was fun and perhaps the cheapest looking of the lot. Not in a bad way, mind you, as I do love studios standing in for locations, but the facts of the case are there for anyone who doesn't. Ray Milland is an okay-ish stand in for Vincent Price but lacks the same magnetism. The story felt more like it should have been the length of a TV episode than a feature as there's not really enough in there to sustain it, but it is by no means substandard. Plus the ever elaborate ways that Milland comes up with to escape his possible early grave are quite amusing and over the top. Dynamite? Really?

TALES OF TERROR

And here's where the series trips up a little bit. I was wondering whether this might have been the inspiration for The Simpsons' Treehouse of Horror vignettes, but who knows. The first and third stories are familiar territory and just about forgettable, but the secondis more interesting in that it's sort of a failure. It's basically The Cask of Amontillado/The Telltale Heart done for laughs, with an ill looking but still great Peter Lorre hamming it up as a jealous alcoholic. There are some dated still-frame zooms which feel very 60s that draw you out of the experience, but apart from that and the fairly damp storytelling it's still an entertaining watch. In fact the last story - The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar - has a touch of The Exorcist to it and is a little disturbing if you think about it too hard.

THE RAVEN

Now I really wasn't expecting this to be a comedy, which took me by surprise, but once I got into the groove of it I ended up really enjoying myself. This one was the first that felt like, well, I guess a proper film. They're all proper films, of course, but this had more elaborate lighting and special effects, not to mention some powerhouse acting talent. It actually felt more like an early Mel Brooks film, perhaps more The Producers than Young Frankenstein, where the humour isn't joke orientated so much but more to be found in the sense of fun and in the performances. It's just a nice, ambling story about rivalling magicians. I guess you could say it's the best Discworld adaptation we've had so far, even though it was made over twenty years prior to. If nothing else it's worth watching for seeing Vincent Price, Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre sat around a table with a very young and handsome Jack Nicholson. I'll be watching this one again soon, for sure!

THE HAUNTED PALACE

So here's the "black sheep" of the family, as it were. Not in that it's bad, which it is not by any means, but just in that it's not actually an Edgar Allan Poe story but a H. P. Lovecraft one with a Poe title and poem stuck on to make some money. Poor ol' Lovecraft - his name's worth a few bucks, surely? Price manages to essentially play two parts in this film - the spirit of an evil deceased ancestor trying to possess the body of his genial descendant - very well. I kind of lost my way towards the end and there were some Edward D. Wood Jr quality lines in there, but the torch-wielding villager finale is fun and the eerie atmosphere right up there with all the others. Solid but not greatly engaging.

THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH

This is where the evening took a really unexpected turn. Filmed in England on much more lush, elaborate sets and utilising locations for a change, this feels ahead of its time. You could argue Masque is a 70s film somehow transported back in time to 1964 and just waiting for those censorship laws to be relaxed a bit. In ten years the nudity, violence, horror and swearing would have been cranked up to the max and the whole thing probably would have ended up being banned in Britain as a Video Nasty. It feels like Ken Russell's The Devils without the teeth. But a few gnashers are still in there, retracted like a vampire's fangs. It's a deeply unsettling watch and Nicolas Roeg - who clearly has more control over the visuals than he's given screen credit for - proves to us that he won't be just a cinematographer for long. This is an important one.

THE TOMB OF LIGEIA

And here is where I officially checked out for the evening/morning. Don't get me wrong, I watched it and saw everything happen, but I wasn't really listening and basically found myself getting comfy and ready for bed. Funny that, though, as I was curious to see this one the most from a filmmaking standpoint as it was rushed into production simply to utilise the remaining budget, sets and some of the same actors from Masque since they had finished that one ahead of schedule. It doesn't look rushed, mind you, and feels more akin to Usher in it's slow, thoughtful pace involving characters hiding from the world. Maybe that's why they call this series of films a "cycle" - we're basically back where we started. The filmmakers tried to make Vincent Price look about thirty years younger with wigs and make-up but he weirdly ends up looking like a cross between Peter Sellers and Alan Rickman, which is fine and actually kind of works in a strange, otherworldly way. You don't feel like you're watching Price, but you are, but you're sort of not. I guess the thing to say is he does well pretending not to be himself because him is not who they really wanted to cast but had to because of demands from the studio, which is very sporting of him. I might watch this one again just so I can concentrate a bit more as it actually looked quite interesting. The literal catfight at the end certainly warrants closer inspection

So in conclusion, what have I learned? Well, all the stories were interesting and quite inspiring from a writing perspective; considering all the films were period dramas they didn't feel cheap, in fact I suspect it was mostly the filmmaking that was restricted by budget; Vincent Price has a soft, humorous side, which I didn't realise, and he seems to let his guard down as the series progressed... maybe he and Corman's team ended up feeling like a close family after spending four years in each others' company; and Corman ain't no great visualist: all the best things to look at in these films aren't by his hand, as far as I can tell, but they're no less entertaining for it.

So I'd say none of these films are bad, but some are lesser than others. There's real effort put into all of them, which is more than you can say for films costing hundreds of times more nowadays, and they're all very satisfying experiences. If you see one on television, don't turn your nose up. Give them a go. Which would I recommend going out of your way for? Hmm, probably The Fall of the House of Usher, The Raven, and The Masque of the Red Death.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Prelude to a Movie Marathon: Roger Corman's Poe Cycle

So all I know about Roger Corman is that he's a legendary b-movie film director/producer and had a cool cameo in Silence of the Lambs, which is kind of why I'm doing this marathon: I feel a bit left out. I hear his name mentioned regularly by film geeks and his peers about the influence he's had - not just through his own work but in giving a leg up to some of the great filmmakers of our time - and so now I want in on the gag.

So why have I gone for his series of Edgar Allan Poe adaptations? Well, because it surprised me that an alleged prolific creator of junk has actually accrued some artistic acclaim for more than just his ability to make stuff fast and cheap. The only film I've seen of his that he's actually directed is The Little Shop of Horrors, which was fun and cute, but I obviously need to experience more.

I'm never sure what to make of people known mainly for being producers and when I hear someone say "cool, this film is produced by..." I'm always a bit sceptical. Oh, so they sat behind a desk and threw money at it? I'm sure that left a crucial creative stamp on it! Basically I'm a follower of directors and cinematographers, so understanding Corman through his body of producer credits wouldn't really be my thing (unless someone can convince me otherwise).

Something else that makes this marathon more attractive to me is that I'm not actually a big fan of horror movies. I prefer ones that are known for their contribution to the art of cinema like The Shining, Don't Look Now and The Thing, so there's usually got to be more in it for me than just the scares and blood. So Corman's Poe Cycle will be (I'm assuming) a lesson in classic gothic horror b-movie cinema... without the frills and high art.

Or will it? Maybe I'll be even more surprised and gain a new found respect for something or someone. That's what I'm hoping to find out from this marathon.

Or maybe I'll just be sick of Vincent Price by the end.

Plus I get the feeling that, since I'm not really into the genre, if I don't watch these films all in one go as a marathon I'll most likely get three films in and not bother to watch the rest. I genuinely believe that I need to commit to a non-stop viewing experience.

So, I'm guesstimating that this is going to take roughly 12 hours: 8 films at about 90 minutes a film (give or take). I'll probably do the marathon at night for a) the right atmosphere b) so any bright daylight won't obscure my vision while watching a series of darkly lit horror films (I often watch films and play games at night for this reason) c) so I don't get any distractions like phone calls etc. and d) if I do a Twitter commentary people won't get so annoyed if it's in the dead of night.

I'll be busy at the weekend so I'll either be doing this tonight (Thursday 19 February) or next week some time. I doubt anyone would want to join in but if you do let me know.

The films will be:

The Fall of the House of Usher (1960)
The Pit and the Pendulum (1961)
The Premature Burial (1962)
Tales of Terror (1962)
The Raven (1963)
The Haunted Palace (1963)
The Masque of the Red Death (1964)
The Tomb of Ligeia (1964)

Right, let's do this!

My Journey with Werner Herzog, Part Three

As planned, I've taken a couple of weeks break from my Herzog immersion and been either in the pub or watching slightly more mainstream fare. The Christmas season does take over one's life whether one likes it or not, I'm afraid.

Well, I've finally had a few days to chill out in isolation and psych myself up for more German arthouse cinema so fingers crossed I can get back into the swing of talking about all this mad crazy stuff.

PRECAUTIONS AGAINST FANATICS

So, things start off with something very similar to the last session's short film Last Words, in that we get a bunch of people talking to camera and not making a great deal of sense. Here we get what seem to be young stable hands talking about providing security for a racetrack's horses. Then an insane old man begins walking into the frame to tell the young men to go away but they do their best to ignore him. This eccentric gentleman gets his own turn to talk, of course, and we learn that he's just a punter who has decided he knows all there is to know about horses just because he watches a lot of horse racing.

Or is something else going on?

As I'm coming to realise, nothing feels quite as it seems with Herzog's work. It probably is exactly as it seems, but he manages to create an unsettling atmosphere of uncertainty, which is clever.

The young stable hands don't act completely sane themselves and proceed to repeat certain things just like the subjects of Last Words did and often go off on tangents about flamingos or how their bold chests mean they're trustworthy. As the film went on (the last short in this blog series) I tried to fathom, again like Last Words, what was going on. My theory is that nobody's behind the camera. I think the director asked these people to rehearse their dialogue or simply record their personal thoughts alone, which is why the crazy old man keeps walking into frame unchallenged and addresses the camera.

There's a deep level of irony to all this when you begin to realise that the people providing security against "fanatics" (horse fanatics? I wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps zoophiles. Who knows) aren't perfectly clear of mind and stable (no pun intended) either.

But whereas Last Words was quite eerie and lightly disturbing, Precautions Against Fanatics is very funny and I'm starting to think that some of Herzog's work has since inspired a lot of modern television sketch comedy.

THE ENIGMA OF KASPAR HAUSER

What surprised me the most about The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser was that at first I assumed the mannered mise-en-scène compositions were inspired by Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lyndon but, to give Herzog credit, he beat Mr Kubrick to it by one year. But while Herzog's camera setups and the way he positions his actors brings to mind paintings of the period in the same way that Barry Lyndon does, the cinematography isn't so stylised and lush, instead keeping to the simple lighting techniques of Aguirre, the Wrath of God.

Herzog seems to like treating his fiction work like documentaries and his documentaries like fiction. Or, possibly more accurately, he likes to make documentaries about living subjects but if they've already passed on he'll jolly well write a script and film his documentary with actors instead, thereby unintentionally creating a fictional feature.

The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is no different.

Actually, even though I'm most likely exaggerating the reality of Herzog's methodology, a lot of modern documentaries are doing this, much to my chagrin.

Anyway, the film starts off with the titular Kaspar sat on a floor carpeted with hay in a bare, stone-walled cell. He's been locked-up in here all his life by his adoptive father who apparently can't afford to raise him properly. This concept was probably quite novel back in 1974 but, much to our grief and horror, this sort of thing does actually happen, only more for purposes of rape or simply for the pleasure of keeping another human being locked-up against their will.

But we only witness the last day or so of Kaspar's incarceration before a man, presumably his captor, carries him out into the wilderness. It's during these scenes in the countryside that we get our first taste of music, the delayed appearance of which is very stirring and reminded me of the similar technique used in Fata Morgana. When that music suddenly swells into our ears after a long period of relative silence it's like we're able to breathe again after being submerged underwater.

I don't know if this is a technique used consciously by Herzog and his team but, well, it certainly seemed to have that effect on me.

To cut a long story short Kaspar is released into a town and looked after and properly raised by a community unsure of the boy's background, mental state or intentions. And I use the term "boy" loosely as, even though I think Kaspar is meant to be in his teenage years, the actor Bruno Schleinstein clearly is not, which makes certain scenes (including one where he shares a bath with a child actor as though he were one himself) rather odd.

It's this initial portion of the film where Kaspar is being questioned about himself by the local authorities that reminded me a lot of Steven Spielberg's style, especially some very similar moments that are mirrored in Amistad. The way in which multiple actors are speaking at once and interrupting one another has the same pace and fearlessness of a Spielberg directed scene. You get that clash of styles: the busy interaction of stage acting combined with the precise, blocked-camera setup of a motion picture. I like this stuff, it's brave and clearly requires much rehearsal (although I can't confirm this happens in either filmmaker's work).

Kaspar goes on to become a literal sideshow freak due to his mysterious upbringing, but only so he can earn a living and contribute to the community which has taken him in. This circus subplot is fortunately limited to only one scene, so the whole film avoids descending into a hellish Elephant Man-esque meditation on exploitation.

The main focus of The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is, instead, this fresh, unprejudiced mind clashing with a society stifled and regimented with rules and beliefs. Kaspar constantly comes up against opposition as his uncluttered mind sees and understands things in a way that his "peers" do not. They disagree, but Kaspar has little interest in winning them over or being accepted. He is who he is and things are what they are. You can label him and the world around him but you can't change what he and they are.

That's where the film becomes a beautiful tragedy. Bad things do happen to Kaspar but his real sadness doesn't come from physical pain or strife, instead it comes from the utter emptiness and meaningless of life beyond his cell. He describes dreams where the people of the world are walking up a steep hill in thick fog with Death waiting for them at the top; and a tribe of native people being led through the Sahara Desert by a blind man. Kaspar is painfully aware that, even with all the things in life we find to distract ourselves or pass the time or control each other with, we are all simply waiting to die.

Which he does, seemingly to his great relief.

THE GREAT ECSTASY OF WOODCARVER STEINER

Which leads me nicely into the documentary of the evening, which follows the experiences of a young ski jumper (apparently what he does is "ski flying" but to avoid confusion I'll refer to it as jumping) who seems constantly to be seeing through time to his own certain death from the sport he chooses to make a living out of. Actually he doesn't die prematurely, in fact I think he's still alive as of 2014, but that doesn't stop the boy's morbid fatalism from becoming the central theme of the piece.

The mindset of a sportsperson is clearly very fascinating to Herzog, who enthusiastically interviews Walter Steiner after each jump he and his crew film. He wants to hear and understand Steiner's thoughts and feelings as they come to him, which he gets the very bare bones of as, in my opinion, sportspeople don't think very much while they're on the job, which is why I find sport punditry quite baffling. The whole point of sport is to be in the moment, to remove thought from a process and to rely on instinct and body reflexes. Things happen so fast in sport that there really is no time to make a logical, rational decision about anything - which is why a person trains for a sport rather than just reading a book and running out onto the pitch (or, in this case, inrun). But many people, including Herzog, will insist the contrary and find those who lead a life of physicality interesting. I don't, so my interest here is not so much in Steiner's motivations but in Herzog's.

Steiner seems modest and innocent, quiet and sombre, tortured and unsure, but when you see the crowds cheering below him as he flies through the air, or the attractive young women swooning near him in the background of certain shots, the fans asking for autographs and, rather ironically, film crews following him around you realise that, beyond all his personal soul-searching, doubting and threatening to quit, maybe Walter likes the attention and adulation he receives and that's why he keeps doing it.

His motivations are perhaps just as undiagnosed as those of the people watching him. Why do people flock in their hundreds and thousands to watch sporting events? The reason is: expectation. I get the feeling that even though some spectators say they admire the skill and technique of a sport, which is fine, I believe that it's mostly about the expectation of something happening and not the event itself. Will the person they support win? Will they lose? Will there be an accident? Will there be disagreements with the judge, umpire or referee? Will money be won (by both player and pundit)? Will records be broken? Will careers be ended? Will careers be started? All these questions are answered eventually, often within seconds, and the ultimate point of all this expectation is clear after the furore of the event is over and everyone has gone home.

There is none.

NEXT UP: STROSZEK