Persephone's (Gothic) Insights

"We're not kids, anymore!" the voice-over exclaims. "What? Did you think we'd sit in my basement and play games for the rest of our lives?" Oh, they grow up so fast! Note: This is my first impression of the new trailer to season 3 of Stranger Things (2016). I may not have caught every single detail. Still, spoilers! Stranger Things season three is nigh, and one thing seems plain: the show, now more than ever, remains stuck in a time warp. The children age; the show does not. Its "past" is the sort envisioned by the likes of Carpenter, Henson, or Spielberg. Here, the action builds to a crescendo courtesy of Pete Townsend. Even as the world of these extraordinary children continues to change, the immortal lyrics of "Baba O'Reilly" (1971) provide a sense of wistful nostalgia. The actors themselves have all grown. Eleven, played by Millie Bobby Brown, is taller, with a full head of hair. No longer the awkward, ball tween, she...

Directed by François Simard, and Anouk and Yoann-Karl Whissell, Summer of '84  is a wonderfully misleading horror film, one that spells itself out in familiar patterns. The narrator practically sighs during the opening shots. The voice belongs to Davey, the film's hero. We see him cheerfully deliver newspapers on his bicycle. However, the narrator of a bildungsroman  (coming-of-age story) or similar formula is usually an older, wiser version of the same character, and Davey's older self sounds solemn and detached. This alone should warn that trouble is not simply afoot, but already come to pass. Over footage of present events, Davey speaks plainly about everyday tendencies to overlook evil in our own lives. He seems to discuss things backward—in hindsight, just like the little girls in Alex Proyas' The Crow (1994) or Terrence Malick's Days of Heaven (1978). Summer of '84  is horror pastiche, much like Andrés Muschietti's  It  (2017); they o...

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 my three-part review of The Hateful Eight (2015). Read part one, here ; part two, here . Tarantino's plot, in The Hateful Eight (2015), hinges around a basic idea: the persons at Minnie's aren't who they say they are. Much like Sweet Dave's bitter coffee, the issue, if you want to call it one, is how this unpleasant secret is only brought to our attention, long after it matters. As a result, it has less to do with how those perfidious individuals actually appear our eyes, in the moment, and more to do with the bounty hunters themselves being downright jumpy for reasons known only to them. I didn't share their jumpiness, because Tarantino wouldn't let me in on whatever was eating them. Nor could I take John and the Major at their word; they were just as rotten and double-crossing as the bandits. Instead, their shenanigans only add up after Tarantino breaks the fourth wall, or devotes an entire chapter to corroborate what the Major had alr...

Here is part two of my three-part review of  The Hateful Eight  (2015). Read part one,  here ; part three,  here . A horror movie shouldn't feel the need to spell itself out in order to demonstrate how well it fits together, but this is precisely what The Hateful Eight (2015) does; several times, Tarantino breaks the fourth wall for no other reason I can think of. Granted, his is not a horror film, but the viewer's role here is largely as a passive listener to his tirades, paying homage to a horror film, amongst other things. I can certainly appreciate the level of craft that goes into making such an elaborate jigsaw puzzle, and it is elaborate if simply by virtue of all the individual parts that go into making it. At the same time, one has to feel on edge as these pieces are introduced and gradually-if-ever assembled, and I simply didn't. From a horror standpoint, I should have at least been able to entertain the vague feeling of suspicion. Instead, anytime I ...

Here is part one of my three-part review of  The Hateful Eight  (2015). Read part two,  here ; part three, here . "The Eighth film by Quentin Tarantino" is a hybrid of sorts, but a curious one. At a glance, it might seem like a Western and a horror film rolled into one. Certainly there are plenty of nods (some subtle, some not) to John Carpenter's older work, The Thing (1982). All the same, this is very much a Tarantino project. His typical treatment of violence and dialogue are well in place, here, but so is the off-beat humor. A little restraint might have helped solidify the tension, but let it never be said that Tarantino's works were singular. If anything, he's a man who tries too much, all at once. Sometimes, it works, but not always how you'd expect (or want). It certainly did, in Inglorious Basterds (2009). There, the zany quality was meant to be absurd. Part-hilarious, part-horrible, it still felt like something that came together by virtue o...