Yeesh...

...all reviews for a while now, time I wrote an entry on a filmmaker or actor or something...well that might not happen for bit, I'm rewatching Pickpocket (hurrah!) and might write a review...

FILM REVIEW - Peeping Tom...

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This film is so many things. It's disturbing, hilarious, shocking, sad and last but not least one of the great films about movies. It forces us to look at ourselves and shows the real danger in filming and being filmed; highly relevant in this age of surveillance and camera phones. The history of the film is interesting and also quite funny. After the first screening everyone walked out without saying a word to each other or it's director; the great Michael Powell. Very soon critics were attacking it, deeming it pornographic and sick. One even suggested it be flushed into the sewer. Meanwhile, Psycho (which was similar in some ways) was creating lines around the block and garnering acclaim from critics and eventually the academy. It perhaps says a lot about the power of this film that it managed to bring out the worst in those who saw it. But this film was revolutionary because it forced it's audience (what very little there was) to see through the eyes of a killer; not just any killer but one that filmed the expressions of fear on his victims as they die...

The script came from Leo Marks, who interestingly enough worked in the Special Operations Executive (SOE) as head of code development and code security. Well he certainly created a character that's difficult to decode. Mark Lewis (Karl Boehm), our eyes for the film, is a foreign man who works in a film studio crew. To look at him you wouldn't think for a second that he's murderously insane. He's handsome, clean-cut, quiet and gentlemanlike. But his beautiful, clear blue eyes hide madness and perversion, as in his spare time he kills woman with his camera. Well, a metal spike attached to the tripod of his camera. Having filmed them as they die, he rewatches it, almost as if this is some way of coming to terms with his actions and compulsions. Perhaps he is telling himself that this is all just some dream, or only a movie. Through his camera and his screen he is detaching himself from his acts. Do we watch horror films to remove ourselves from the impulses that lie within our subconscious? Is this safe? Mark Lewis embodies a certain kind of person; an outcast, alienated from himself and others, who can only really feel through his eyes. He is both fascinating and pathetic. But somehow I feel I can relate to him. I am a movie-lover. I jump at any word to do with the medium, and I love to watch. I am also socially inept and therefore alienated...

The film isn't overly concerned with story. As you may have gathered, it is more of a character study and exploration of voyeurism. Having murdered a woman in his unique style, Mark goes to take pornographic photos of girls for a newsagent to sell to dirty old men. In one hilarious scene, a man comes in and discreetly hints at purchasing this material. He pervertedly scours the images of the girls, before purchasing an entire book of them and making off in a hilariously paranoid manner, eyeing up Mark as he tries to look inconspicuous. If that wasn't enough, a moment later a schoolgirl walks in asking to buy some sweets. When he arrives home, he looks in on the tenants (literally; through the window), and encounters a young redhead in the hall who is celebrating her birthday. He shyly (slyly?) puts off joining them and goes up to his vast flat to watch some of his movies. But later that night the young lady visits him and he shows her his traumatic childhood on film, which his scientist father (played by Powell himself) filmed as an experiment on fear. It shows lizards dropping onto his bed, young Mark (played by Powell's son) staring at a man and a woman kissing, and rather upsettingly; Mark at his Mother's death-bed. Some of this is funny in a sadistic way, but overrall it's sad and disturbing. All his life Mark has lived only through cameras and equipment; he has never experienced real human affection. There is one scene that may help to explain his targetting of women, when a clip on the reel shows a woman trying to take the place of his deceased mother and holding his hand while he stares blankly ahead. Then his father gives him a camera as a present and goes off on his honeymoon, leaving Mark alone in the world with his camera; watching and being watched. But his new ladyfriend (perhaps he sees her as his mother?) almost makes him connect without his equipment. Almost. In one scene they kiss lightly and tenderly, and then Mark grabs his camera and kisses it. It all culminates with Mark's crimes being revealed and his mental breakdown and downfall.

Thematically this film is fascinating; it is full of ideas about the human mind and cinema itself. Can filming someone be murder? As absurd as this is, perhaps there is some truth in it. Some cultures believe that when you take a photo of someone you take a piece of their soul. In one scene Mark is confronted by the blind mother of his girlfriend. Ironically she can see further into his soul than anyone with eyes can, and urges him to get the help he needs.

Powell's direction is simple but brilliant. The film opens with the ghastly murder of a prostitute seen through the lens of the camera (perhaps the opening of Halloween is a nod to this?). Then it cuts away to reveal Mark watching the act on a screen. There is a constant sense of coldness and isolation, as if everyone is trapped in a pair eyes, watching each other constantly. The use of colour and light is simple but bold. Mark's screening room is dark and has a menacing red glow. And there is so often an eerie echo of voices when characters are alone, as if in the void of Mark's soul. Leo Marks' script contributed greatly to Powell's vision. There is a lot of humorous dialogue to lighten the mood, and a lot of dark irony. The performances are comic and at times grotesquely exaggerated, as if belonging to Mark's diseased mind, and Karlheinz Boehm was perfectly cast; his gaze both chilling and sad. Ultimately Mark Lewis is so scared inside he can only relate to those who are frightened to death...he thrives on the fear of others...

Powell's brilliant masterpiece is a warning that constant filming and surveillance could destroy our souls, and also a personal warning to all those who sit in the dark and watch other people live (or die), to take a break from cameras and projectors for a while...shocking, funny and heartwrenching...but of course...it's only a movie...

FILM REVIEW - Julien Donkey-Boy...

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Where do I begin? This is a gut-wrenchingly disturbing and shocking film that is also disorientating and emotionally devastating in parts. It is from Harmony Korine, the director who brought us Gummo; one of my favourite films and what I consider to be a startling evocation of a time, a place and a people. I thought that film was very experimental; certainly in terms of narrative and style. I had another thing coming. This film is very different in style but definitely far more experimental. But when does experimentation become distracting?

Julien Donkey-Boy is a portrayal of a young schizophrenic named Julien and his strange and highly dysfunctional family; the abusive father (Werner Herzog; frightening and funny), who likes to drink medicine out of a shoe while wearing a gas-mask, the tender, caring sister (Chloe Sevigny; excellent as usual) who is also pregnant, the younger brother, who is an aspiring wrestler and the only normal one in the family, and the senile dog-loving grandmother. All of these people are portrayed affectionately, as if Korine knew these people in some past life. Unlike Gummo, this film has a somewhat singular storyline with few tangents (under the dogme95 regulations). The behaviour of these people is at times funny, at others frightening. At the beginning of the film, Julien, alone and lost in the woods, encounters a young boy playing with turtles. He behaves ecstatically at this encounter, but as the child's tone changes to one of disdain Julien appears to strike him down and choke him to death. I say "appears" because things are very hard to make out in this film. The shaky-video-style gives it a highly impressionistic feel. But although the imagery may seem vague, it works, and lingers in the mind. The facial expressions of Julien are both frightening and saddening, as he wanders his street in confusion and fear. Ewen Bremner gives a convincing performance. The interaction of this family gives the film a real dramatic edge, and as it moves on, a plot becomes apparent; though never certain. Early on it is hinted that the baby Julien's sister is carrying may be his, and that they may have an incestuous relationship with each other. Interestingly, they have phone conversations with each other in the same house, in which she pretends to be his dead mother calling him from afar. Scenes like this are fascinating and emotive; the way these people communicate with each other in the dysfunctional realm of their senses...
As I've said before, Korine's direction is highly experimental; perhaps self-consciously so. There are scenes filled with odd camera movement that works on a shock-and-confusion level, but is also somewhat distracting; for instance in one scene Herzog is getting a haircut from Sevigny, and the camera darts around his face and all over-the-place as he tells a story. There are many scenes like this, full of sharp and shaky camera movements and jumpcuts, and the grainy-video aesthetic doesn't help. There is one brilliant scene in a church congregation as a priest chants and sings. Julien gazes as if the priest were addressing only him. The camera whizzes around the rest of the congregation as if they were cheering for him somehow. He stands up and claps; deluded. Is this the worldview of a schizophrenic? Is it because the film is told from Julien's eyes? Perhaps. But I think the film also adopts other perspectives; those of the sister and father. It is sometimes hard to believe that the father isn't mentally ill from his behaviour. And his sister, while rational and gentle for the most part, also behaves in strange ways. And there are also of course distorted images of a girl figure-skating that permeate many scenes. And near the climax is a heart-and-gut-wrenching scene in which his sister falls after gleefully skating round a rink. She is rushed to the hospital where the baby is pronounced dead, but Julien escapes with the foetus and takes it home...


This is not an easy film to digest. Unlike Gummo, it is cold and wintry; the cinematography very grey and gritty, and there is a constant sense of isolation. Well however shocking I find it to be, and however distracting, I believe it to probably be the closest cinema has come to capturing the worldview of a schizophrenic. Demented, odd, icy, but also tender, authentic, personal, and highly effective; surefire proof of the creative force that is Harmony Korine...