Persephone's (Gothic) Insights

For all the successful tricks that  Veronica (2017)   borrows from older movies, there are some missteps, too. And Paco Plaza shows enough horror know-how to make one wonder why he made these mistakes, in the first place. For example, one particular visual gag is repeated to the point of being exhausting: seeing the monster's shadow slither across the wall. On one hand, this is a pretty cool nod to Count Orlok, from F. W. Murnau's  Nosferatu  (1922). In  Veronica ,   they do the gag three times! By the third, the exhilarating effect is gone, and impatience starts to set in. This issue is compounded by the special effects, themselves. Instead of using actual shadow puppetry like Murnau did, Plaza digitally animates the monster's shadow. The more you stare, the faker it looks, and there's plenty of time to stare. Another problem is how the movie starts. It opens with a languid, dream-like sequence, with a detective responding to a 911 call. Everything ...

Something about Paco Plaza’s Veronica (2017) felt familiar. I didn’t recognise the director's name, but he seemed at home, in the genre. As it turns out, he actually directed [REC] (2007)—a movie exported to American theaters with John Erick Dowdle’s note-for-note remake,  Quarantine (2008). With the possible exception of Gus Van Sant’s  Psycho (1998), I generally don’t mind heavily derivative remakes. Tomas Alfredson’s Let the Right One In (2008) was solid; so was its American counterpart, Matt Reeves’s Let Me In (2010). In and of itself, Plaza’s Veronica is notably atmospheric. Much it revolves around an innocuous, inanimate object: a Ouija board. A sinister Ouija board is a ridiculous idea, but horror relishes the exploration of ridiculous avenues, especially superstitious ones. Even so, scary Ouija boards are a tough sell; as C.S. Lewis once said, no one is afraid of what a ghost may physically do to them. Personally I think he meant, "in a particular state o...

Here is part three of a three-part review of David Robert Mitchell's It Follows (2015 ). Part one examined much of what works about the movie; part two , what didn't. Three shall examine the thematic implications, as well as why the movie is still worth your time, despite not being "perfect." It Follows works best, in the darkness. Despite being invisible, its monster paradoxically withers, in plain sight—that is, when people are aware of and pointing at it, or where it should be. This effect is perhaps most strongly felt when the teens drape a piece of cloth over its head, lending it the unintentionally silly appearance of a ghost wearing a bedsheet.  I don't want to look down on bedsheets; anything, including those, can be scary. John Carpenter made it work in Halloween (1978), with "Bob" wearing a bedsheet to scare the girl in the bed. Except here, it's not Bob, it's the Shape, pretending to be Bob, pretending to be a ghost. The ...

Here is part two of a three-part review of David Robert Mitchell's It Follows (201 5). Part one examined much of what works about the movie; part two shall look at what doesn't; and part three , the thematic implications — as well as why the movie is still good fun, despite not being "perfect." I loved It Follows . Imperfect though it was, it works best, I feel, when we know as little about the creature as possible. When Hugh kidnaps Jay and explains to her the nature of the beast, the suspense works as well as it does because no one believes her —no more than anyone did Mrs. MacNeil, in The Exorcist (1973) . Likewise, we know the rules, but haven't had a chance to see them broken, yet. Sometimes rules aren't, in movies. Alas, despite boasting a nebulous creature that can assume any form, It Follows   isn't quite focused enough to play by its own rule set. For example, in the wonderful opening scene, a girl is shown r unning around, acting...

Here is part one of a three-part review of David Robert Mitchell's It Follows (201 5). It shall examine much of what works about the movie; part two , what doesn't; and part three , the thematic implications, as well as why the movie still mostly works, despite not being "perfect." Unlike most movies nowadays, I had already seen It Follows several times in theaters before watching it on Netflix. To that, by the time I sat down and watched it with my partner and their other boyfriend, I had already seen the movie twice: once with my brother, and another time with our half-brother. This is because, in my opinion, it is a really good movie (we van der Waard boys all enjoyed it). I wouldn't venture so far as to call it perfect, by any stretch; it has quite a few problems —the typical sort that often plague horror movies. Despite these symptoms, it still manages (for me, at least) to be incredibly enjoyable. Not as good as it could have been, but still plenty awes...