This year’s festival is going to contain a mixture of films we have not yet seen (Vampyr, The Orphanage), re-viewings of classics (Scanners, Serpent and the Rainbow, and our annual screening of Halloween) and some cheese (Monster Squad, Night of the Lepus).

I’ve been disappointed with a lot of horror films of the past 15 – 20 years. Sure, there have been some rare gems here and there (The Descent and 28 Days Later being a couple examples off the top of my head), but often it seems like there is either too much CGI, an overabundance of gore with no real significance to the plot, or they are simply retreads (and many are even straight-up remakes) of ideas that were better the first time.

With that said, our annual horror film festival offers a reminder of why we love horror films as we seek out material that engages, thrills, inspires, and terrifies, whether they are classics we’ve seen dozens of times or older stand outs we haven’t yet had the chance to see.

Here’s a list of films that often make our yearly horror film fest:

Halloween (1978 - Carpenter’s classic never fails to thrill)
The Thing (1982 - my favorite film of all time—philosophical and suspenseful)
The Shining (1980 - darkly beautiful, highly quotable, unforgettable)
Night of the Living Dead (1968 - one of the first horror films I ever saw; fits the “Halloween” mood almost more than any other)
Dawn of the Dead (1978 - one of the most socially relevant horror films ever)
Black Christmas (1974 - scary and highly underrated)
The Horror of Dracula (1958 - my favorite of the Hammer Dracula series)
The Exorcist (1973 - shocking, terrifying)
Evil Dead 2 (1987 - insane, hilarious, goofy)
The Fog (1980 - Carpenter meets Poe meets Val Lewton)
Night of the Hunter (1955 – Robert Mitchum’s most haunting performance)
American Psycho (2000 - so disturbing because it touches on so many relevant social themes)
The Black Cat (1934 - Lugosi and Karloff unite in a take on a Poe tale)
Prince of Darkness (1987 - thought provoking while also prompting some chuckles)
Sunset Boulevard (1950 - not truly a horror film, but the dark mood fits the season)
Suspiria (1977 - Argento’s most coherent and chilling work)
Martin (1977 - Romero’s low budget yet interesting take on a vampire tale)
Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974 - the documentary style of the original is highly disturbing)
Wait Until Dark (1967 – not exactly horror, but the suspense is abundant)
Freaks (1932 - still can’t believe this cult-classic was ever made, let alone in the ‘30s!)
In the Mouth of Madness (1995 – Carpenter meets a Lovecraft inspired story that messes with your mind)
Hour of the Wolf (1968 - Bergman’s strangest and most suspenseful film)

I could probably stretch this list into 50 or 60, but I’ll stop for now.

But I have a question: What are your favorite horror films? Feel free to drop us a line as we’re always looking for new ones to check out. Maybe you can tip us off to a classic we’ve missed? Or perhaps you can recommend a recent one that was made with style that skipped our radar? Whatever the case, drop us a line and let us know your thoughts.

--Brian Peterson/IMUR

En la segunda parte Sarah es encontrada por un grupo de rescate al salir de la cueva, pero el grupo decide volver a entrar para buscar sobrevivientes.

Anunciada para el 2009 y con ansias de ver el primer trailer.

Via

]]> http://ilovehorror.wordpress.com/?p=125 Sun, 31 Aug 2008 21:38:26 +0000 Brad http://ilovehorror.pt.wordpress.com/2008/08/31/the-burrowers/ Bloody Disgusting posted the trailer for the upcoming Western-themed horror film The Burrowers, which despite looking pretty damned awesome, seems incredibly similar to The Descent in terms of style. This is not a bad thing. The Descent sought to frighten the viewer by utilizing basic human fears - isolation, darkness, sub-humanoid monsters living underground - and it worked. Much of what you see in the trailer for The Burrowers plays on much of the same ideas yet employs the backdrop of the Dakotas in the late-1800s.

This I love, as there are not enough period-piece horror films to wet my appetite for truly good horror. A post made roughly a month ago talks of the idea I have for a horror film set during the Salem Witch Trials, an event and point in time that just begs to be used in a horror film. My idea of course has zombies, but hey, old habits die hard. They are, of course, nothing more than the catalyst for the events that occur in the film, and are in fact forgotten by the end of the film.

Enough of that, for now.

Upcoming articles: An academic approach toward torture porn; why horror fans are an embarrassment; and horror vs. terror.

The trailer for The Burrowers can be found here. Enjoy.

Trama: in Scozia si accende il focolaio di un virus denominato Reaper che decima la popolazione, attraversando poi tutto il Regno Unito. Poiché sembra non esserci né una cura né un vaccino, le isole britanniche vengono escluse dal mondo per paura di una pandemia fatale per l'umanità. 30 anni dopo lo scoppio del virus in Scozia, alcuni casi di Reaper si verificano in alcune parti del mondo, nonostante le elevate misure di sicurezza, per scoprire il motivo dell'espansione del virus, viene mandato in Scozia un team di soldati per ricercare il focolaio e una possibile cura.

The one thing that I'm a little insecure about with my head is the size of my ears. They're pretty big. Cassie drags me by them and they remind me of Bug Hall doing his role as Alfalfa in the movie "The Little Rascals."

To have my hair this short is a new sensation for me. I'm used to the wind blowing through my hair. Due to the thickness of the foliage, the breezes seldom enter past the canopy. As I walked out of the salon, I shivered as the cold wind slid on the surface of my scalp. I'm known to be ticklish and I felt this one all the way down my spine.

And, you know, for the last 10 years or so, my mom has been cutting my hair. I didn't take one step into a

barber shop until earlier today. When I was trying to pick out a style, I couldn't. I didn't know how. I didn't even know how to tell it to the barber. My mom always gave me the usual cut, but I was in a whole new venue.

I tried to compose myself in the leather chair. It was hot and I was sweating beneath the covering. I was tense, my heart pumping, unsure of what was going to happen and how it was going to go down. As soon as he switched on that electric, buzzing monster craving to shave some hair, I had to drop it. Man, someone other than my mom was going to cut my hair. It was scary.

It's a little hard to believe that my mom has been cutting my hair for a long time. I'm 19 and scared of the barber shop. You've gotta say, "ARE YOU SERIOUS?" Mom always does it nice, though.

It was quick. It was finished faster than I thought it would. I watched in the mirror as my stylist adroitly sliced through my hair and gracefully swiped away with his plastic comb. It really was an artform.

I'm pretty satisfied with it. I like it. My mom and grandma agree. Everything's alright. My first trip to the shop in 10 years wasn't so bad. In a couple weeks, I'll visit again to maintain and/or style it up differently. I'm also glad that I don't have bangs to worry about anymore. I've become so accustomed to swinging my hair out of my face that it's second nature. At least I don't have to worry so much about an oily forehead anymore.

Cassie was the first person to see my new do. We hung out for a little, played some Need For Speed: Underground and watched "The Descent." Fun times, fun times.

I need to catch up on some reading. Blog more later, yo.

Neil Dog Soldiers Marshall's second feature The Descent is about a group of women who go potholing in an uncharted cave. Naturally things go wrong. Very wrong.

Neil Marshall's got previous, having made the rubber-wolf rubbish that was Dog Soldiers and the ultra-dull Descent. The former featured some army-types getting trapped in the middle of nowhere and fighting werewolves, whilst the latter was about an unengaging bunch of pot-holing chicks getting eaten by horrible anaemic white ghouls. Even from those brief descriptions, both films sound mildly watchable, if not like a ruddy good laugh. But they aren't a ruddy good laugh. Neither of them. Both run out of steam within 30 minutes then rely on brain-haemorrhage speed-editing to try and involve you, to no avail.

Marshall's got something very wrong with his mechanism. Every time things are looking good, he seems to take a completely mental premise with massive potential for larks and then slowly blood-let every element of surprise, fun and enjoyment from it. It's like he finds some ancient, forgotten VHS of a good fun splatter film and, instead of remaking it with mad-good effects, he just takes it out of the cover and gently shits on it.

And so we come to Doomsday. Though, if you've any sense, you won't come to Doomsday - you'll let it gather dust on the racks. After a hefty amount of exposition-time in which Bob Hoskins manages to swear a lot, unconvincingly, our protagonist (played by Rhona Mitra) convinces us she's a cold-hearted, killing-machine bitch. Then she gets sent to Scotland which is now a quarantined hinterland with the mission of finding a cure for the virus which has turned the Scots into disease-ridden cannibal bastards. With mohicans. Who have just finished  being duff extras in Mad Max.

It's a nice, absurd premise, but what follows is just set-piece after set-piece of jarring action sequences. And then a mediaeval bit. And then a massive road chase that never seems to end.

It would be an unremarkable bit of fluff, but the dialogue is so unbelievably poor that the viewer has no choice but to start actively disliking what's going on. I think the Rhona Mitra character is meant to come across as a stern, Aeon Flux type character. She actually seems more like a frigid, miffed newsreader and you want her to die as violently as Sean Pertwee did in the first bit. Only quicker.

Doomsday.

Neil Marshall's latest movie was released with little fanfare earlier this year.  I meant to see it in theaters but never got a chance due to its short run.  But I saw it today on DVD.

Bloody great.

Marshall's done it again.  Not as good as his last film The Descent, but pretty great all the same.  28 Days Later meets Mad Max meets Gladiator meets Braveheart.  Yeah, there's a lot going on here.  But it's a blast.  I can't believe this movie didn't get better reviews.  Well, I can, but that's just because nobody can just except a fun movie anymore.  Not just fun, but really well done too.

Yeah, so if you want to have a great time and drive your Bentley into a bus full of raving maniac cannibals at top speed, then see this movie.

In special cases, you don't even need the aesthetic appeal.  For example, Gorillaz are an animated band of a variety of pseudo-apes - somehow they go on tour, doesn't make sense, the concerts have got to be duds.  In others, the good music is not necessary either.  Milli Vanilli had enough of the aesthetic appeal and fun name that the music was overlooked.  The duo would literally have women come on stage during their shows, while "singing", and dance with them.  The women never once noticed anything even slightly fishy.  (see: Milli Vanilli Curiously Invite Blind Women Only Onto Stage)  Okay, that article (probably) doesn't exist.  But I find it hard to believe that the women would be fooled when the hulking men began licking their lips and blowing kisses to them during the chorus.  Women.

The one thing that is completely imperative to musical success is obviously the roll-off-your-tongue-ness of the group's name.  Has any artist with a name like "Zob Clack Mulch" made the ascent to stardom? (wow, ridiculous analogy, I know)

This analogy, however, will blow you out of the water.  N'Sync, or as you - yes, you, N'Sync freak - might know them:
Justi N Timberlake
Chri S Kirkpatrick
. Joe Y Fatone
. La N ce Bass (dammit Lance! you ruined our super-tight acronym)
. & J C Chasez

were a big thing in the late 90s and around the turn of the century.  But the Y2K bug crawled under the skin of the Boy Band Industry and left the world to rot (we had no choice but to call the ex-Terminator, and let him govern a state of ours).  Fortunately all the Y2K bug managed to do was dissemble the band units, but left the raw talent and determination fully intact.  So, a lot of heart-throbs began the solo thing (Justin won) and got a nice share of the entertainment limelight.

Lance produced and acted in the 2001 film, On The Line, and even gave roles to bandmates Justin Timberlake and Joey Fatone.  Joey has become a popular TV personality most known for his postion as host of "Dancing with the Stars".  JC is a judge alongside Li'l Mama (God, why choose that name?) and Shane Sparks (also totally fake name).  He is also the only sane judge on the show (fact).  Justin decided to become the renaissance man of his generation, the heart-throb to Americans of all three sexes, and the biggest mistake the ESPY awards ever made (unless he is a great host - in which case he's just a renaissance heart-throb).  Chris decided to age faster than the other four and banish himself to the confines of an underground cave in the Appalachian Mountains.

Question: So where do the Jonas Brothers tie in?
Answer: They don't.

Question: So why did you title this "The Jonas Brothers"?
Answer: Of course they tie in!  I'm getting to that!  Hold onto your horses already.

The Jonas Brothers are a sensation.  And like all other sensations (namely N'Sync) they are in control of their fate - or rather how much money the make and how long they will continue to make that money.  The relationship between artist and consumer is much like that of an emotionally-inept girl and a really conniving jerk.  You see, at some point, the jerk will make it appear that he has committed in a big way to his visibly clueless squeeze.  She will, in turn, actually commit to him (often she will commit way, way too much -  but that's a separate blog).  Much like how an artist creates the illusion that he has committed to you, the buyer, by producing this music.  Then you whole-heartedly gobble up all of his albums, T-shirts, iTunes tracks (yeah, you need the iTunes and the physical album - in my story you're very weird), and "Mrs. Jonas" underwear.  You commit to him (and like many girls you have committed way too much).  And this puts him in the driver's seat.  He can now control almost every aspect of the relationship; he tells you whose albums you can buy, he tells you what you can wear (if anything at all), he tells you how much to pay for his next album or fragrance.  But the worst part about his control is that he can pull a Chris Kirkpatrick and drop off the face of the planet.  You will have some issues with recovering from this love that left you high and dry - but then again you already had issues if you got emotinally invested in a pop star you only fantasized about.

So ladies, I know "The Jonas Brothers" rolls off the tongue the way you'd like to roll into the back seat with them, I know that their music sounds like the sweet tunes from Apollo's lyre, and I know that they're smokin' hot brothers that have you "Burnin' Up" to be with them, but think about the long run.  Where will you be in five years when "Avenue" and "The Saturdays" have eclipsed those irresistible Jonas boys?  Will you be left high and dry (you emotional wreck)?

If you see yourself with Joe Jonas in five years I guess you have to learn it the hard way.
The rest of you girls might want to look into a more attainable love-related aspiration.  I'm single.

What's Doomsday about? Watch Escape from New York and The Road Warrior back to back and you've pretty much got it. It's basically a mega-homage to those two films and any other post apocalyptic action flick you can think of. You even have characters named Miller and Carpenter just in case you're in a coma and missed all the other references.

So is the flick any good? Well, it was definitely fun to look at. There were lots of cool action scenes, but if you've seen Road Warrior they'll look awfully familiar. The first half of the film actually has some genuine suspense as a group of soldiers venture in to a city thought to be uninhabited (Spoiler: it ain't). The second half of the flick looses some gusto as a modern day medieval kingdom subplot is introduced. I just wasn't in to the Knights in Armour stuff as much as the Cannibals in leather.

Doomsday is definitely the lesser of Marshall's genre efforts. I didn't hate it or anything. If you enjoyed going to video stores in the 80's and renting cheesy Italian Mad Max rip offs, you should at least get a kick out of it. I'm just glad Marshall got this indulgence out his system. It wasn't that it's a terrible film; I just wasn't blown away like I was by his previous efforts. Here's hoping' I'll get blown again real soon... ummm, you know what I mean.

His next film was a remake of the Craven borefest The Hills Have Eyes, which was overtly graphic for the sake of being graphic while being just as boring as the original. This says nothing of its originality, of which there is almost none, falling into an inescapable vortex of cheap horror cliches. The final twenty minutes are ridiculously predictable, and I left the theater wondering what the fuck I just watched.

His next film as a writer was P2, which I never saw. This is a good thing, as it doesn't seem to be anything more than your run-of-the-mill Hollywood suspense-thriller. After that comes this year's South Korean remake, Mirrors, doomed to fail because it's a remake of an Asian horror film. Just because The Ring was successful does not give every fucking big-name horror director carte blanche to adapt every Asian horror film into a shitty one-off American adaptation. The Grudge sucked, Dark Water sucked,and Pulse definitely sucked, so what makes you think this won't suck? 'Cause Jack Bauer is in it?

Alexandre Aja is lucky in that he made one successful horror film (albeit a shitty successful horror film). Instead, however, of making more successful horror films that are actually good, he's selling out by making cheap remakes of classics that also suck, remakes of Asian horror films that are rarely good, and really, really, really, really, really, really shitty retarded suspense-thrillers. His next movie is Piranha 3-D. Here's hoping it's a comedy.

Mr. Aja, please stop making shitty horror films. The French are dominating the genre, and you're sticking out like a black man at a Klan rally. Have some God damned dignity and make something truly inspiring to horror fans everywhere. You've exhibited a slow and steady decline, so...well, so I guess you're like most horror directors. Heh. No one can ever top their first.

Fun note: Aja holds membership in the Splat Pack, "a collection of filmmakers who, since 2002, have brought about a renaissance of horror film." Of those on the list, the only who is worth a damn is Neil Marshall, 'cause, well, Dog Soldiers and The Descent fucking ruled.

In this first edition of TOP 10, the subject is Favourite Movie Posters. The following list is my top 10 favourite movie posters of all time. There were some which I had to leave out, but I have decided that these 10 are my favourite. In reverse order, here is the list:

#10 Lord of War (2005)

#9 Straw Dogs (1971)

#8 The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

#7 Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961)

#6 Rosemary's Baby (1968)

#5 All About Eve (1950)

#4 Brick (2005)

#3 The Descent (2005)

#2 Downhill Racer (1969)

#1 Paris, je t'aime (2007)

That's it for this TOP 10.
Check back soon for the next edition of TOP 10.

-j.taylor

 Hace tres años Neil Marshall nos ofreció una película de terror (muy buena en mi opinión) donde la hemoglobina y la claustofobia escupía al espectador en  pleno rostro. "The Descent".Protagonizada íntegramente por mujeres y con unos monstruos que podían, en cierta manera, recordarnos a Gollum y compañía pero una mala baba a años luz.

El final no dejaba lugar a dudas. No sobrevivía ni el apuntador y los devoradores de carne humana se daban un festín que para él lo querría Hannibal Lecter.

Pero el mundo del cine tiene algo que no tiene la vida real (por desgracia). Puedes recuperar a los personajes aunque la hayan diñado. Así que las protagonistas de la primera entrega tambien las podremos ver en esta segunda parte. Aunque puede que por medio de flash-backs, lo cual entraría dentro de lo lógico.

Pero según algunas informaciones parece que la secuela puede no tener mucho sentido dependiendo del final que se haya visto.

Al final de la película Sam (Shauna MacDonald) parece que escapa de la cueva. Pero era simplemente un sueño. Ella sigue atrapada y habiendo perdido completamente la cordura. Eso fue lo que vimos... en uno de los finales. Se vio en Inglaterra (su país de origen) y aquí en España (entre otros países supongo). Pero en Estados Unidos se recortó el final. Sí hay un final feliz donde la protagonista pone tierra de por medio al horror que ha sufrido y deja abierta una secuela.

 Aquí es donde supuestamente empezaría "The Descent 2". En esta ocasión dirigida por John Harris (escritor de la primera parte). La superviviente de la primera entrega acabaría hospitalizada (no es de extrañar la verdad) y sería la policia local la que querría saber la ubicación de dicha cueva para ver si alguien ha sobrevivido. Por supuesto... las cosas no pueden ir bien con tanto bicho suelto. Pero Sam tendrá que verselas tambien con otro inconveniente. El fantasma de una amiga (Juno) a la que dejó atrás a sabiendas (no es de extrañar si la dejó lisiada e indefensa ante sus perseguidores cegatos).

La primera foto de la segunda parte hace que veamos a los monstruos de la caverna con una ligera variación. Una nariz más típica de los murciélagos, no en vano guardan algunas similitudes, que de una persona. Parece que seguirán teniendo hambre y que los que invadan su habitat serán su plato preferido.

 10 milloncejos de presupuesto (realmente no hace falta mucho más) y el año 2009 como fecha de estreno. Iremos viendo como van cayendo los carteles, más fotos y el consiguiente trailer.

Veamos de todas formas el trailer de la primera entrega para refrescar la memoria.

THE DESCENT

Fdo: Snake  

En esta segunda parte Sarah es encontrada por un grupo de rescate al salir de la cueva, pero el grupo decide volver a entrar para buscar sobrevivientes. Anunciada para el 2009.

Via

Und noch ein Endzeit-Szenario, diesmal allerdings mit unangenehm geringer Inkubationszeit. Bereits 2008 nämlich bricht auf dem größten europäischen Inselstaat ein ungewöhnlich aggressiver Virus aus und lässt die Regierung in aller Eile mal eben das Kriegsrecht verhängen. Für Ursachenforschung bleibt angesichts der rasend schnellen Verbreitung keine Zeit, und neben einem ziemlich unansehnlichen Ausschlag und sich zersetzenden Organen bringt der Reaper, so der treffsichere Name, auch äußerst unerfreuliche und wenig sozialverträgliche Verhaltensmuster mit sich. Also wird das Epizentrum im Norden des Landes einfach vom Rest der Welt abgetrennt und der alte Hadrianswall in moderner Hightech-Fassung neu aufgebaut. Schottland gehört wieder ganz den Schotten, nur dass von diesen bald keiner mehr übrig ist. So weit, so gut. Ein knappes Vierteljahrhundert ist Ruhe, dann kehrt der Reaper zurück. Wohl wissend, aber aus strategischen Gründen vor der Öffentlichkeit geheim gehalten, dass es in der Sperrzone immer noch Überlebende gibt, schicken der Premier und sein Drahtzieher ein Sondereinsatzkommando ins Krisengebiet, um dort nach einem offensichtlich existierenden Heilmittel suchen zu lassen. Doch der Zeitplan ist eng, und nur 48 Stunden verbleiben, um eine Pandemie zu verhindern. Auftritt Lara Croft, sichtbar und unstrittig aus Fleisch und Blut.

Nein, es geht nicht um Angelina Jolie und schon gar nicht um einen weiteren Film aus der eher lauwarmen als siedend heißen „Tomb Raider“-Serie. Es geht um Höheres. Als die erste weibliche Konsolenikone nämlich noch ausschließlich ein zweidimensionales Leben führte, hatte der Spielehersteller Eidos Interactive schnell begriffen, dass vor allem die männliche Kundenbasis dringend auch eine reale Version der Figur benötigte, eine Lara also, die auf Messen und Conventions auftreten, Interviews und Autogramme geben oder auch noch ganz anderen gewinnbringenden Unsinn machen konnte – wie etwa eine eigene CD aufnehmen. Also engagierte man ein Model, das die notwendige Ähnlichkeit zur Vorlage bei sich trug, und machte mit ihr noch ein bisschen mehr Geld als ohnehin schon. Die Wahl fiel damals, nach zwei mehr oder weniger offiziellen Stand-Ins (unter anderem Katie Price), auf die junge britische Schauspielerin Rhona Mitra, die sich schnell noch die passende Körbchengröße besorgte (Schönheitschirurgie liegt bei ihr praktischer Weise in der Familie) und fortan als Real-Lara eine ziemlich gute Figur machte. Eine nie näher öffentlich erläuterte Trennung von Eidos verhinderte allerdings ihr Auftreten in der späteren Filmfassung – und das ist ein Umstand, der angesichts dessen, was sie für Neil Marshalls wilden Endzeit-Ritt leistet, echtes Bedauern auslösen kann. Denn im Vergleich zu Mitras fiebriger Interpretation der von einem explosiven Cocktail aus tiefverwurzeltem Zorn und kompromisslosem Jagdinstinkt getriebenen Elitekämpferin Eden Sinclair (ein Name, für den ein einzelner Film ganz unmissverständlich nicht ausreicht) erscheint Jolies Croft-Version geradezu kleinbürgerlich. Die abgründige Entschlossenheit jedenfalls, mit der sich die Engländerin irisch-indischer Abstammung schwitzend und blutend durch die unterschiedlichen Levels dieser staubig-schmutzigen Anarchielandschaft aus postzivilisatorischen Tribal-Punks, Rittern und Gladiatoren schlägt (egal ob mit Schusswaffen, Schwertern, einem Bentley Continental GT oder bloßen Händen), ist schlicht und einfach pures Adrenalin.

Ausgestattet mit einer simplen, aber trotzdem alle entscheidenden Koordinaten der Figur wirkungsvoll ausrichtenden Initiationsgeschichte (ihre Mutter musste beim ersten Ausbruch des Reapers in der Sperrzone zurückbleiben, um das Leben ihrer Tochter retten zu können), orientiert sich Eden Sinclair ganz an den beiden einzigen wirklich schulemachenden Frauengestalten im amerikanischen Action-Kino, also Ellen Ripley („Alien“) und Sarah Connor („The Terminator“). Und demgemäss legt Mitra ihre Darstellung auch an, zynisch, schweißtreibend und unberechenbar, ohne dabei auch nur im Ansatz forciert zu wirken oder gar die Typologien ihrer Vorbilder imitieren zu müssen. Wenn Sinclair zum ersten Mal (als erwachsene Frau) auftritt, findet ihre zentrale Fokussierung zwar schon in der dramaturgischen Konstellation ihr unmissverständliches Abbild, doch erst der scheinbar fest in der Physiognomie ihrer Darstellerin verankerte Grenzgang zwischen gefährlicher Entschlossenheit und kontrollierter Psychose (und zwar genau ohne den verheerenden Grad zuviel, der Michelle Rodriguez oft so unerträglich macht) gibt der Figur diejenige Schlüssigkeit, die sie über den ganzen Film hinweg glaubwürdig und problemlos aufrecht erhält. Eine ganze Staffel lang hatte Rhona Mitra dem freakreichen Ensemble von „Nip/Tuck“ mit der ebenso undurchsichtigen wie besessenen Ermittlerin Kit McGraw bereits eine ähnlich erinnerungswürdige Figur hinzugefügt und diese mit jener bemerkenswert bedrohlichen Form sexueller Aggression versehen, die in der Elitekämpferin Sinclair nun ihr asexuelles Pendant findet – und damit eine Art Dialekt derselben Sprache in der Figurengestaltung ihrer Darstellerin markiert.

Aber ist das nicht alles ein bisschen zuviel für einen Film, der sich mit echtem Retro-Feeling irgendwo zwischen Mad Max, Snake Plissken und deren ebenso zahlreichen wie namenlosen Epigonen bewegt? Nun, vielleicht – aber auch nur für denjenigen, der schon mit den klassischen Endzeit-Spinnereien der späten 70er und frühen 80er nichts anfangen konnte. Alle anderen sollten einen Heidenspaß an diesem durchweg sehenswerten Versuch haben, einen Genrezwitter wiederzubeleben, der schon lange aus dem Kino verschwunden ist und sein Dasein stattdessen vor allem im Spätprogramm des Privatfernsehens fristet. Im Gegensatz aber etwa zu einem Projekt wie „Planet Terror“, das sich in ähnlichem Umfeld bewegt, nimmt Neil Marshall sein Sujet (sofern das überhaupt geht) weitestgehend ernst. Beide Filme profitieren merklich und intendiert vom Stil John Carpenters auf dem Höhepunkt seines Könnens (bevor er anfing, vor allem uninspirierten Nonsens zu drehen), doch während Rodriguez zunehmend in die Albernheit von „Big trouble in Little China“ verfällt, bleibt Marshall vor allem dem grimmigen Ton der „Klapperschlange / Escape from New York“ verpflichtet. Und so trägt Rhona Mitra (zumindest zeitweise) selbstverständlich auch eine Augenklappe.

Doch ganz unabhängig von diesem Trip in eine Ära des Kinos, die längst ausgestorben ist, wartet „Doomsday“ (auch ohne den sinnlosen deutschen Titelzusatz) mit einem Detailreichtum auf, das für eine geradlinige Geschichte wie diese durchaus ungewöhnlich ist. Marshall liebt seinen Stoff ganz offensichtlich und holt aus den für vergleichbare Hollywood-Verhältnisse geradezu lächerlichen 30 Millionen Dollar (dennoch ungefähr das Zehnfache seines vorherigen Budgets) so ziemlich alles raus, was drin ist. Dafür ging er mit seiner Crew zwar für den überwiegenden Teil des Drehs nach Südafrika, doch das sieht man dem fertigen Film nicht eine Sekunde lang an – von der flimmerigen Atmosphäre, die in Teilen der Geschichte vorherrscht, einmal abgesehen. Der Brite, der sich zuvor mit dem beklemmenden Horrorfilm „The Descent“ bereits einen guten Namen gemacht hatte, zeigt dabei ziemlich überzeugend, dass er auch angesichts eines größeren Budget nicht vergisst, worum es beim Filmemachen in erster Linie geht. Und das gilt für den gesamten Produktionsprozess von der Besetzung (Bob Hoskins als Sinclairs väterlicher Vorgesetzter, David O´Hara als schmieriger Drahtzieher, Craig Conway als Tribal-Führer in einer völlig überdrehten Chargenkreuzung aus Travis Bickle und Dennis Hopper, sowie, gänzlich unvermeidlich, Malcolm McDowell als archaischer Darwinist mit royalen Allmachtsfantasien) bis zur Tonspur (auf der Tyler Bates einen weiteren Beweis dafür liefert, dass er mit seinen vielschichtigen Partituren zu den interessantesten Filmkomponisten der Gegenwart gehört).

An seiner Inszenierung von (ansonsten einfallsreichen) Nahkampfsequenzen könnte Marshall zwar noch feilen und vor allem die Schnittfrequenz deutlich runterschrauben, im Grunde aber gibt es wenig an diesem temporeichen, niemals zeitschindenden und immer wieder überraschenden filmischen Endzeit-Vergnügungspark auszusetzen. Wo die natürliche Auslese nämlich dafür sorgt, wessen Köpfe im plastischen oder übertragenen Sinne rollen, da ist die Welt eigentlich völlig in Ordnung – jedenfalls solange sie ausschließlich im Kino stattfindet. Und was kann schon falsch sein an einem Film, in dem eine Horde kriegsbemalter Kannibalen ihr (in Deutschland erwartungsgemäß heftig gekürztes) Schlacht- und Grillfest mit dem gutgelaunten „Good thing“ der Fine Young Cannibals in Gang bringt? Nichts natürlich.

Artikel © 2008 Thomas Lenz. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Filmplakat: Concorde Filmverleih GmbH

Premisa demasiado sencilla para una película tan estremecedora, y es que me considero de estomago fuerte en cuanto a películas de terror, pero esta si me hizo querer apartar la vista de la pantalla mas de una vez, tiene una violencia que es demasiado enfermiza y llena de odio. La venganza y frustración de una mujer será el infierno en vida para otra de ellas.

La película empieza algo light, queriéndonos meter un poco en la vida de el personaje principal, Sara un ser humano que es presa de una de las mas brutales secuencias que los ojos de su servidor hallan podido ver. En un momento tranquilo de de la corta película se nos presenta a una enigmática y estremecedora mujer, llamada asi: La mujer. A partir de aquí, se convierte en un baño de hemoglobina, tanta que llega a lastimar la poca sensibilidad que podemos tener.

Lo importante es que no solamente se queda ahí, la historia es intensa por si misma, es una lucha psicológica entre una recién descubierta asesina con una mujer embarazada, y de esta consigo misma por un error fatal y (por el cual casi lloro) que comete al querer asesinar a su captora.

En fin, película ultraviolenta no apta para personas con estómagos sensibles, con una pizca de sentimientos, embarazadas o con problemas cardiacos. Se lleva los 10 pezones…

Los daños del régimen de antivacaciones del que os hablaba en el post anterior sí parecen permanentes. No es sólo que no tienes tiempo para escribir: además tu vida se empobrece de tal forma que también te quedas sin temas. Llevo un mes horrible pero me voy a desquitar. La semana que viene me voy a Sicilia (es por un congreso pero he añadido al lote dos fines de semana y algún día más por ahí perdido, y la peregrinación a Corleone no me la quita nadie).

Estos días me he dedicado a ver películas de terror en mis pocos ratos libres. Es una forma de autolesionarse menos peligrosa que darse cabezazos contra la pared, que era mi primer impulso durante estos días de furia. He visto, por ejemplo, The Descent, de Neil Marshall, y he sufrido muchísimo, os la recomiendo a todos. ¿Cómo es posible que se me escapara esta joya de la claustrofobia y el mal rollo cuando se estrenó en 2005, y sin embargo me haya tragado desde entonces toda una serie de bodrios supuestamente terroríficos y remakes cutres de pelis japonesas? En fin, espero ansioso la próxima del mismo director, Doomsday, que se estrenará en julio.

"Irrationality, paranoia, hallucinations...death." A little foreshadowing.

If you've seen The Cave(s), then the movie's basic premise is not entirely unknown: a group of women find themselves lost in a failed spelunking expedition. Unlike the cheap acting tricks and subpar twists in The Cave, "The Descent" offers engaging camera angles, a pulsating-edge-of-your-seat sensation, and a dark glimpse into the human psyche.

Actresses Shauna MacDonald and Natalie Mendoza breathe life into the scripts. MacDonald's traumatized character is the center of the movie's attention; her friends feel guilt for being absent in her time of need. So it's no surprise that they all worry about her while trekking through caves, and direct no anger towards her when she loses a rope bag, the equivalent of salvation.

MacDonald and Mendoza's character are perfect foils. Jealous undertones of suspicion arise between the two of them as they explore the caverns. A friend's death turns one against the other.

Unlike cheap horror gimmicks today, The Descent is "fresh" in the darkest recesses of the Earth. The first thirty minutes establishes calm overtones, displaying the beauty of limestone and a million years of erosion (the movie was filmed on set, though). But when MacDonald's character begins seeing, or imagining, human-esque creatures below the surface, paranoia begins to settle. Rocks seem to move, and facades of daylight slowly beckon hope that leads to trouble.

The movie's potential rises through its great ensemble cast. The characters are perfect for their situation; daredevil Juno attempts to comfort MacDonald's Sarah along with her best friend Beth; two sisters, one with medical expertise, attempt to forge relationships with a overly excited spelunker. Deep within the Earth, however, the endless howls of creatures split relationships, and drive personalities to the roots of fear and insanity.

The scenes are not too graphic, but also utterly compelling. A character holding a camera pans across her friends, and stumbles upon a creature. A woman, distraught at a friend's death, slashes backwards reflexively, and cries in horror when her pick impaled another friend's throat. Lighting and jarred camera angles heighten the intensity while the characters' interaction make the underground stifling hot.

As they delve deeper, their "descent" becomes more apparent. Sarah reverts back to her primal instincts, and slowly loses her grip on sanity. In the end, the creatures overcome the girls, dragging them down into the darker recesses of the Earth.

Fatta questa premessa e venendo al film, The Descent – presentato di recente anche al Ravenna Nightmare Film Fest – è un lavoro che funziona, spaventa e fa saltare sulla poltrona e la storia di sei speleologhe amanti del rischio che si calano in una caverna mai esplorata, presenta dei punti di forza di grande validità. Primo fra tutti l'eccellente ambientazione, così funzionale all'horror da essere il principale elemento di paura: essere intrappolati in una labirintica caverna che scende sempre più e si estende per chissà quanti chilometri è un incubo in quanto tale. Se poi a questo si aggiungono le “creature” che abitano le profondità (pochi mostri nella storia del cinema sono stati così orrendi), allora il terrore è garantito. The Descent è un film riuscito proprio perché non cerca alcuna sottigliezza ulteriore, e lavora con sapienza (c'è una regia notevole) sul meccanismo più vecchio del mondo: i cattivi inseguono gli eroi che tentano la fuga. Ma in più, questa volta l'inseguimento è sotterrano, in un ambiente stretto, claustrofobico, fatto di ombre, dove spuntano all'improvviso, da ogni angolo, forme di vita disgustose e feroci. Solo a scriverlo ci si sente accerchiati, perché si tratta di una sintesi horror nella sua essenzialità primaria, nella sua purezza adamantina. Quindi non disturba che nel film non ci sia molto altro: né approfondimento psicologico, né dinamiche collettive ben delineate, né personaggi credibili. L'antefatto che dovrebbe spiegarci il trauma della protagonista non serve praticamente a niente e l'incidente automobilistico è di cattivo gusto per la sua dimensione splatter. Il finale è invece molto riuscito, come non se ne vedevano da tempo. Parecchie le citazioni nelle soluzioni visive: dal Dario Argento di Phenomena, al De Palma di Carrie, persino Coppola di Apocalypse Now.

The Descent, di Neil Marshall, GB, 2005, 99 minuti

Cast: MyAnna Buring, Craig Conway, Natalie Jackson Mendoza, Molly Kayll, Stephen Lamb, Shauna Macdonald, Oliver Milburn, Marcel Iures.

Uscita: 21 ottobre 2005