Persephone's (Gothic) Insights

Before I even saw the show itself,  The Mandalorian (2019) grabbed me with its trailer: A tall, silent man walks into a space-saloon, sits down, and is confronted by three lowlife scoundrels. They size him up; he ostensibly ignores them. A fight breaks out, resulting in him trouncing the three of them, including an elaborate stunt from the hero and that ultimate cuts the final baddie in half with the saloon door. All of this could have transpired with modern editing and special effects techniques, but it seemed more like it was shot forty-odd years ago. That's kind of the point, and a large part of the show's appeal. Not only is it set in the past (of the Star Wars universe); it adopts older conventions and filming techniques, albeit with a larger budget and modern technologies. There's something to be said about the dangers of emulation, especially when going for a particular, "retro-future" look. But if the student studies the master closely enough, it...

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...

Here is part two of my review of Marcelo Galvão's 2017 Western, The Killer (2017): I've often wondered about the Western, as a genre. Does it have to be made in the West to actually be a Western? Likewise, I've often heard it said, "the Western is dead." Yet these kinds of films continue to be made well into the present, set in places far removed from the West as it supposedly existed in the United States. The fact of the matter is, the Western is a folktale, a legend; it never quite existed in reality and thrives in the hearts of those telling it. For a Western, all one really needs is a desert, and these can be found all over the world. Simply populate them with a bunch of poorly-dressed, morally-dubious characters motivated by money or revenge; then, make these persons willing to settle their scores through improvised, highly-dramatized contests of speed, by means of rifle or pistol, and you have yourself a Western (don't forget the music). If these ...

Marcelo's Galvão's Brazilian Western, The Killer (2017), is both clever and visceral—as cursed and mercenary as its title character(s). Note: Before I proceed, I wish to note that this article will serve as part one of a two-part review of the movie. Moving on. The movie starts with a tense confrontation in the middle of the road, somewhere (where this is isn't explicit, but seems familiar, regardless): A man sits down, seemingly forced to do so by two dangerous men. His boys are with him, and his would-be adversaries plan to use them as leverage. Meanwhile, they tell the father to make coffee; when he cannot do that, he offers to tell them a story, instead. As he does, he appears callow and awkward. Here, all the power seems to be with the opposing men: They ask; he obeys—as simple as that. Then again, perhaps not. The sheepish narrator embarks on a fable, concerning a land that seems never to have been. We're unsure of the time or the place. He simp...

This is part 2 of my write-up, discussing the gun battle at the end of the Netflix miniseries, Godless . In the first half, I wrote primarily about the poor handling of an endearing secondary character. For this one, I shall focus primarily on the poor visual effects. As I stated, earlier, there's no two ways about it: the show looks and sounds like a million bucks—until the much-touted battle at La Belle, that is. Being a miniseries, and not a big-budget film, I suspect certain corners were cut to deal with the lack of substantial funds. You can do a lot with a low budget and a skilled professional behind a camera. Yet,  Godless  clearly had its heart set on a big finale. This leads me to the miniseries' second shortcoming: the presentation of the battle, itself. The affair is built-up ahead of time with such repetition as to lead one to think Netflix were about to unveil the Battle to End All Battles. The fact of the matter is, such explosive finales are a staple of...