He killed my friends and now he's back to finish what he started, with me.
1978's Halloween is a stripped-down horror legend. Not only did it help establish an entire genre, it's a terrific film in its own right - a sustained exercise in tension of which Alfred Hitchcock would be proud. The 2018 movie, which goes by the same unembellished title, bypasses numerous (often really lame) sequels and connects directly to the original. It asks two simple but intriguing questions - how might Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis' survivor of the 1978 massacre) have coped longterm with the trauma she experienced, and how would she respond if her attacker, Michael Myers, came back? The answers it provides are pretty damn satisfying.
Forty years have passed since Myers' kill-spree on Halloween night in the rural town of Haddonfield, Illinois. He's spent the intervening time incarcerated in a high-security psychiatric facility, while Laurie has become mired in paranoia - training her family in self-defence and alienating them all in the process. Now living alone in a house she has turned into a fortress, she awaits what she sees as this Boogeyman's inevitable return. And when Michael is transferred to a different facility one day before Halloween (that's some hella ill-judged timing on the part of the prison authorities), he seizes his opportunity to break out. The old home town is unprepared for his onslaught, aside - that is - from his one-time victim.
The new Halloween benefits hugely from its identity as a straight sequel, and from the involvement of original writer/director John Carpenter. On top of his advisory role he's written the soundtrack, revisiting the musical motifs that helped make the fall of 1978 so chilling. The DNA between the two movies is apparent elsewhere - like in the presence of an obsessive psychiatrist taking over from Donald Pleasance's frankly nutty Dr Loomis, and in a portrayal of an evil that borders on the supernatural. There's a weird symbiotic connection between Michael and Laurie; he's a blank and inscrutable kind of bad, driven to pick up where he left off, while she's equally defined by him - seeking a closure that can only come by ending him herself. It's a complex and twisted relationship emphasised by the subverting of several iconic Halloween shots, each of which will have fans grinning.
That's not to overstate the movie as anything particularly meaningful. It's a big glossy thrill-ride, Michael wreaking a trail of gory devastation that contrasts with the original's visual restraint and slow-burn suspense. There are taut scenes and effective scares for sure - the opening prison sequence is gripping in its originality and Michael's quest for Laurie includes some truly jarring encounters. But whatever its connections with 1978 this is ultimately a film with a different vibe, one defined as much by vengeance as victimhood.
In that regard Curtis walks off impressively with the film. Her ageing Laurie is a force of nature - damaged but defiant, and a fierce protector of those she loves. A strong family dynamic exists at the story's core, with Judy Greer and Andi Matichak as Laurie's daughter and grand-daughter respectively, both struggling with the reality of Michael's return. There's a stalk/slash element for sure, but this is more a lead-up to all out war. And while the psychopath is as single-minded as ever, the distinction between hunter and prey is not quite so clear as before.
Halloween isn't an unmitigated success; its plotting proves messy at points, with some threads being inadequately explored. Not can it sustain the original's unforgiving sense of dread. (Seriously, what can?) But it still manages to be true to the story's roots, while developing the hapless 'scream queen' into a contemporary heroine. And it provides lots of bloody good fun (the literal kind) along the way. With four decades of slasher teen movies having developed, poached from and parodied the first Halloween, kudos to this successor for advancing the story of Laurie and Michael on its own terms - and for giving it back its edge.
Gut Reaction: At its best it had me enthralled like the first one. And I was never less than fully entertained.
Where Are the Women?: It's a matriarchal family affair. But how much 'Strode' do the younger generations of women have in them?
Ed's Verdict: 7/10. Finally a worthy sequel to the Carpenter classic. It only took forty years - but maybe temporal distance was required for a truly interesting Halloween follow-up.
It could look like someone you know or it could be a stranger in a crowd. Whatever helps it get close to you.
The Gist: Jay, a teenage girl in rural Michigan, has a sexual encounter with a guy, after which she is told she has contracted a kind of curse. She will be followed relentlessly to the death by an entity that can take on any appearance, including that of someone she might know. The only way to pass on the curse is to have sex with someone else, problem being that the pursuer can kill its way back through the chain of those who have slept together. Taking her sister and a group of friends into her confidence, she tries to work out how 'it' might be defeated...
The Juice: Released in 2014 It Follows became an indy horror phenomenon and a breakout hit for writer/director David Robert Mitchell. It's a genuinely creep-inducing concept, establishing a slow-burn paranoia early on that never goes away. The movie draws strongly on Halloween as an influence with its autumnal backdrops, the mysterious absence of adults (take that as teens wrapped up in their own world), old horror movies playing on TV and of course the theme of relentless pursuit. There's similar use of widescreen too - though much less darkness - with potential manifestations of 'it' strolling into the periphery of your vision. The film has its own unique quality, however - that of a misty waking nightmare (the lush synth score lulls you into false security at points) - and is much more concerned with the lives and inter-relationships of its teen protagonists along with the consequences of their sexual choices.
The Judgement: 8/10. While not perfect (the dialogue can be frustratingly mumbly at points and some of the decision-making is as inexplicable as in any slasher movie) this is beautifully made film with a devious central twist on the classic stalk-and-slay horror movie and its targeting of sexually active teens. It's a twist that's cleverly explored right through to the end. The story is layered and ambiguous throughout, and the climactic confrontation with whatever is as inventive as it is gripping. Definitely worth a place in your horror collection.
Personal Fear Factor: There are some disturbing images, but this is more about clammy fear than blood-spillage. It didn't have my heart thumping, but it did make me shudder at points.
It's funny, isn't it? How it's always the last key that unlocks everything.
The Gist: Ghost Stories stars Andy Nyman as Professor Phillip Goodman, a professional skeptic who debunks supposed manifestations of the supernatural for his TV show 'Psychic Frauds'. His greatest challenge arises when he comes into possession of three files, detailing disturbing paranormal cases as yet unsolved. The files bring him into contact with a guarded nightwatchman (Paul Whitehouse), a deeply troubled teen (Alex Lawther) and an aloof businessman (Martin Freeman). As he investigates each of their bizarre stories, he becomes more unsettled regarding unresolved issues in his own life. Haunting, it transpires, comes in many forms...
The Juice: Adapted by Nyman and director Jeremy Dyson from their own successful stage play, Ghost Stories is an artfully crafted modern take on the British anthology horror film. Nyman is great as the cocksure skeptic steadily having his rationalism challenged and his nerves jangled along with us. The other leads provide sterling support, with special credit due to Lawther's supremely jittery performance as the traumatised teen. Each of the three main segments has a distinctive visual style to match its classic location - and abandoned asylum, dense woodlands, an austere modern mansion - while all three use lighting and eerie soundscapes as much as easy jump scares to build the atmosphere of dread. There's a nice seam of dark humour as well, which dissipates as the story twists its way into a whole other kind of horror experience.
The Judgement: 7.5/10. Always intriguing and frequently ingenious, this is a film that trades in gradual creeping fear, though one section does have a riot with some retro monster-movie shocks. The direction it takes is divisive - a unarguably clever post-modern diversion that risks undermining what has gone before. That aside it's a Pandora's box of subtly wicked delights and a fine piece of modern Brit horror cinema.
Personal Fear Factor: Chilled at points and rather horrified at the end, though ultimately I preferred the film's old-school 'house of horror' sections.
It's Halloween. Everyone's entitled to one good scare.
I first watched Halloween as a teenager on a little portable television in my room late at night. To this day it remains one of my most memorable horror-viewing experiences. Here was a really exquisite kind of fear - Hitchcockian tension supercharged with slasher-movie adrenalin, all beautifully framed by John Carpenter's lens. Not that I was thinking about it in those terms back then - I was just staring at the screen, scared witless.
I watched it again last night (first time in over a decade), in preparation for my viewing of the newly released Halloween 2018. My viewing companion, I should say, found much of it pretty laughable. This was due to the clunkiness of some performances, the occasional absence of plot logic and the dumbass behaviour of the teens about to be slaughtered. While not the first slasher film to hit cinemas in the '70s, Halloween certainly became the template - so crammed was it with tropes that have been recycled many times since. That includes the TSTL (Too Stupid To Live) factor, e.g. when a characters walks undefended into the house from which she heard the screaming, rather than - you know - lying low and calling the police.
I take all my movie-buddy's points - Halloween has dated somewhat, due to all the post-modern fun poked at the genre (not least by the Scream franchise). And yet it unarguably a classic. I love it as much as ever I did, and not, I might add, with some irony-tinged sense of nostalgia. The film still conjures up a genuine sense of fear every time I watch it and I now can tell you precisely why. Let me go into blokey list-mode to do so...
1. The Central Premise. It's simple and it's effective. A little kid - Michael Myers - kills his older sister on Halloween night, presumably because she's just had sex with her boyfriend and he doesn't much like the idea. He's sweet-faced with a chillingly blank stare. Exactly fifteen years later Michael escapes from the psychiatric institution where he's been incarcerated and returns to his hometown of Haddonfield to reenact his murderous onslaught - with interest. What is living behind his eyes, insists his psychiatrist (a near-demented Donald Pleasence) is 'purely and simply evil'. Simplistic stuff for sure, but it provides the Halloween 'Boogeyman' with a real drivenness, bordering on the demonic.
2. The Look. Michael swaps his institutional uniform for overalls (taken from a mechanic who really won't be needing them anymore) and dons the most creepy-ass Halloween mask in cinema history. The overalls give him a functional air - he's going on one very workmanlike killing spree after all - and the mask (an actual William Shatner mask with the eye-sockets cut out) is expressionless and terrifying.
3. The Creepy Holiday Setting. With an original working title of 'The Babysitter Murders', the story ended up being grounded in all the fun seasonal trappings of October 31st, starting with the grinning jack-o-lantern of the opening credits. Classic '50s horror movies play on TV screens throughout the film, while local little'uns go trick-or-treating, a neat contrast with the genuinely sinister events playing out.
4. The Budget. Halloween was made independently and has a grainy quality far from the gloss of other more recent slashers. The absence of polish makes it feel more real, whatever dopey decisions the targeted teens make. Everything about Haddonfield is dowdy and ordinary - a believably mundane setting for some insane events.
5. The Camera. Low-budget films depend on each shot getting it right and boy does Cameron get it right here. Low-angles provide buildings with a tangible sense of menace, long-shots give away just enough detail to unsettle. And point-of-view tracking shots instil real panic, like when our heroine approaches the house where all her friends have been murdered. Every time I watch that scene I remember how I felt the first time - willing her not to go in. The script may have its deficiencies, but the actual telling of the story is sublime.
6. Widescreen. Carpenter used the perfect screen ratio for the film. Why is it so effective? Because widescreen leaves lots of scope for danger to lurk around the edges of the frame - and this is a film all about what's lurking in the dark.
7. Shadow. Speaking of dark, this is a movie that uses light and shadow to superbly scary effect. Sometimes it's just damn beautiful side-by-side with terrifying. The first time I watched, I had a sense that I didn't need to worry too much while it was still day, but felt steadily more on edge as night closed in. Then once darkness fell, Michael blended. His overalls provided camouflage, but then that mask (see 2) would loom out of the murky recesses (see 6) and the effect was truly chilling.
8. Stuff Not Happening. There are a lot of moments in the movie when 'stuff', i.e. the next killer attack, resolutely fails to occur. Using a commendable degree of patience it makes you wait, ratcheting up the tension to near-intolerable levels. Nor does it rely on jump-scares (it uses them sparingly at best), allowing some moments of dread to play out before your eyes with a dreadful calm. It's a terrific lesson for film-makers - that stuff not happening can have as powerful an effect on the audience as when it does.
9. Scream Queen. Jamie-Lee Curtis is likeable Laurie Strode - cerebral A-student who dutifully babysits her kiddie charges while her friends are fooling around with their boyfriends. She cuts loose with her lungs in the story's latter stages, when the night goes very wrong for her - and contrasts others' ropey acting with one very convincing portrayal of fear, shock and trauma. Along with her more dubious choices she does demonstrate some decent survival instincts, however, hence being around for the 2018 sequel.
10. Music. Carpenter created the score and revolutionised his own movie in the process. It's not just the opening credits theme with its general sense of foreboding, it's also the slower mounting-sense-of-dread theme as characters edge towards their doom, and the eerie little synth motif when Michael is stalking around a house, and the staccato piano accompanied by a rapid high-pitched discordant ching-ching-ching when peril is imminent. Chills me to - the - bone every time I hear it. A wonderfully stripped-down, fiendishly effective score and some of the best horror music ever written.
There. I hadn't aimed at ten, but they came to me easily and I could probably add a few more. The film has its moments of daftness for sure (I didn't even mention how the younger cast members are way too old to pass as teenagers), but in my book all that's good about it renders those aspects not worth mentioning. Treat yourself. Hollow out a pumpkin, carve a malevolent face into it, illuminate it from within using a fat candle and sit back to watch John Carpenter's masterpiece all over again. Happy Halloween, 1978-style.
Ed's Verdict: 9/10. It's bona fide horror genius.
Has anybody got a Swiss Army knife?
Neil Armstrong's 1969 moonwalk is such a celebrated part of modern history that we tend to view it as having been inevitable. There's a clearer sense of drama in the disastrous Apollo 13 mission than in the moondust-stirring success of 11, which is presumably why the former was celebrated in cinema screen twenty-three years before Armstrong's 'giant leap for mankind'. And yet the logistics of Sixties NASA landing a manned craft on the lunar surface were so precarious that viewed correctly the event seems truly miraculous. Director Damien Chazelle gets that - only one of the reasons why his film First Man is such a magnificent experience.
Based on James R. Hansen's Armstrong biography, the movie has a much broader scope than Apollo 11, charting as it does the NASA space program from the early Sixties through the eyes of its brooding protagonist. Armstrong was recruited from the US Air Force's human spaceflight program (a terrifying adventure in its own right) and trained in the NASA Astronaut Corps for almost a decade, surviving more than one brush with death prior to his 'one small step'. He also - along with his wife - absorbed personal tragedy, an element woven tightly into the fabric of the story here. First Man tells of colossal scientific achievements, but never loses the intimate connection with its central character.
Director Chazelle has already matched ambition with talent in films such as Whiplash and last year's Oscar-baiting La La Land, but here he surpasses both (to my mind) with something truly colossal. So much in First Man is beautifully judged, like the grainy look of its earthbound scenes, reminiscent of the era's colour news footage. The film is steeped in period detail, often with a convincing documentary feel - that's until we break through into space and IMAX high-definition steals our breath, restoring a sense of wonder that the moon-landing happened at all. There's a ramshackle nuts-and-bolts quality to how space travel is portrayed here, much of it putting us in Armstrong's gravity boots, while his tin-can vessel screeches and rattles like it's about to break apart. Nothing is sleek about these rocket missions - they're experiences in raw terror and desperate seat-of-the-pants ingenuity.
The movie is thoughtful and melancholy as well as dynamic, courtesy of screen writer Josh Singer (The Post, Spotlight, countless West Wing episodes), while Justin Hurwitz's graceful, theremin-tinged score underpins the drama perfectly. Lead actors Ryan Gosling and Claire Foy are both an understated kind of excellent. Gosling's Armstrong is strong and silent to a fault - a focused, driven man who buries all his negative emotions deep. It's to the actor's credit that we sense those feelings burning there as he takes a devastating phone-call or straps himself in for a dicey rocket-trip. Foy meanwhile embodies the stoic astronaut's wife - keeping the family together and giving vent when necessary to the fears and frustrations building up beneath. The subtlety of their scenes together is fascinating, the moments where she cuts loose with emotion a blessed relief.
The cast is filled out too with great character turns - Kyle Chandler as businesslike Apollo mission chief Deke Slayton, Jason Clarke as Armstrong's empathetic friend and fellow-astronaut Ed White and Corey Stoll as the outspoken 'Second Man' Buzz Aldrin. They bring a striking authenticity to it all - the sense of purpose, the calm under pressure and the sublimated fear of disaster. (Occasionally those worst fears are terribly realised.)
First Man shies from little. It tangles with the politics surrounding manned space flight, questions the ethics of pursuing such dangerous goals and exposes these pioneers' fallibility. But it also recaptures a sense of wonder at events rendered safely familiar by crackly news footage (particularly for those of us too young to remember when they actually happened). The depiction of that first moon mission is as beautiful and awe-inspiring as anything in science-fiction. Forget that manufactured controversy over whether or not we see the US flag being planted. This is about a moment that captured the global imagination and the enigmatic man who took that legendary first step.
Gut Reaction: Engrossed - and then absorbed - and then just overawed. I actively moment-to-moment loved this.
Where Are the Women?: Sixties NASA was male-fronted (watch Hidden Figures to see the crucial role played by the girls). Claire Foy has room to be terrific, however, in what goes way beyond the old-style wife-girlfriend role.
Ed's Verdict: 9.5/10. I'm going to write a feature soon on what constitutes a Filmic Forays 10/10 - but I'm pretty sure it's this plus reflection-time. To everyone's taste? I'm guessing not. But for me every frame became a joy in this stratosphere-busting film achievement. Bravo.
You don't tell the truth out there, you're f**ked.
Some stories bear retelling. The original A Star is Born was released in 1937 and has now been remade three times, each version following markedly similar plot beats, while reworking the premise for a new era. It's a simple tale - one that simultaneously celebrates and critiques the entertainment industry, and one to which numerous generations can clearly relate. All that's required is an imaginative repackaging and some contemporary resonance. Bradley Cooper's 2018 version has both, with the formidable addition of Lady Gaga and her stunning vocals.
Cooper is Jackson Maine, a straggle-haired and hard-drinking country-rocker riding out the latter days of his fame. Gaga is Ally, a singer and song-writer whose talent, however striking, has been passed over by numerous shallow music executives. Their chance meeting is fateful in more ways than one. The connection between them, fuelled by a love of music and stage performance, sparks an intense romance along with Ally's career in the business. But Jackson's inner demons (which are legion) and the forces shaping Ally's musical future threaten to rip them apart, heartfelt love notwithstanding.
There's an undoubted power in the basic story - a love affair between two performers whose career trajectories are moving swiftly in opposite directions. First-time director Cooper does much to invigorate the material, giving it a raw sense of reality throughout and never letting things topple too far into melodrama. These characters are believable, whether in the bravura musical sequences or the quieter domestic moments. The first act takes its time to establish the central relationship, before sweeping us on an edgy but exhilarating journey with these two, much of it filtered through Jackson's faltering perception. It's all very 2018 as well - contemporary music, Youtube and the slick product-packaging of the modern recording industry all grounding a well-worn narrative in the now.
But it's the performances that you'll remember. Cooper is a growling, shambling version of himself, but he exudes boozy charisma. He also proves one hell of a country-blues performer, like he's been singing and playing all his life. Gaga meanwhile gives a strikingly truthful portrayal of Ally, divested as she is of her real-life chutzpah and all the crazy costumes that go with it. There's a simplicity and humility to her waitress-turned-singer, which result in the best kind of X-Factor chills when she cuts loose in front of a microphone. Put these two individuals together and there's chemistry - both on-stage and off - to rival that of Joaquin Phoenix and Reece Witherspoon in Walk the Line. Great too to see the magnificent Sam Elliott in a key role - strong, compassionate and with a voice that could now grate parmesan really fine.
As for the music, it turns the movie into this year's Greatest Showman - less family-friendly for sure, but full of memorable tunes and glorious performance moments, which compliment rather than distract from the drama. These are songs that (with one deliberate exception) come from the gut, conveying all the passion, pain and internal conflict of the leads. A Star is Born 2018 becomes much more than another retelling of the classic story. It's a modern fable of stardom - its glories and its pitfalls - and of the toll that fame threatens to take on two people's love for each other. And it works because it's told - on every level - in such an utterly convincing way.
Gut Reaction: A sense of sublime melancholy rather than some manipulated sob-fest. Two moments - Ally's first duet with Jackson and a night at the Emmys - got to me for very different reasons.
Where Are the Women?: Gaga exists in a very blokey world here, perhaps a commentary on how rock is still a resistantly male environment.
Ed's Verdict: 8.5/10. Cooper's triple-role (co-writer/director/co-star) provides a searing authenticity throughout, as does Gaga's star turn. We knew he could act and she could sing. Turns out the reverse is also true.
If you're not gonna do the work, drop the class.
Kevin Hart - funny guy. Fast-talking, pushy, appealingly vulnerable. Tiffany Haddish - funny girl. Bolshy, rude, full of attitude. Put them together, give them a decent screenplay to work with and watch them tear it up (so to speak). So, does Night School provide them with said screenplay? Because that's all it had to do. Damn, I wish I could tell you yes...
Hart plays Teddy Walker, a High School drop-out whose talent for hustling has landed him a lucrative sales job and a classy girlfriend. Then a drastic change in circumstance leaves him in need of a high-paying new job, one he can only attain with a GED (General Education Diploma - the UK equivalent would be five subject passes at GCSE). So back he goes to his old school, where his teen nemesis is now Principal, and his teacher is the take-no-crap Carrie (Haddish) - a woman who, he rapidly learns, doesn't suffer fools. His classmates are a disparate bunch of adult-learners, each with their own reason for seeking the qualification. And so the scene is set for an amiable and heart-warming ensemble comedy.
What's frustrating is how close the film comes to achieving that, before ultimately failing. Hart establishes his character with that likeable motor-mouth shtick, the set-up is dealt with neatly and there's a nice comedic chemistry brewing between him and Haddish. The story is populated with talented character actors too, like SNL alumnus Taran Killam as the vindictive Principal Stewart. Teddy's new classmates are a sporadically entertaining ragtag bunch; stand-outs are Romany Malco as technophobic conspiracy theorist Jaylen and Mary Lynn Rajskub (24's prickly computer-genius Chloe) as harassed stay-at-home mom Theresa. The extended scene where Haddish meets her new students is genuinely amusing - possibly because the actors were given scope to ply their improv skills.
And then the funny kind of dried up for me. The characters proved thin as rice-paper, with the cast working it hard to try and keep them entertaining. A genuinely promising classroom dynamic was sidelined in favour of broad slapstick escapades and gross-out humour, so that the whole 'Educating Teddy' aspect was minimised - and that was supposedly the point of the movie! Even when the story commendably brings up the whole theme of learning difficulties, it deals with them in the most shallow, least insightful way possible - a sad waste of an opportunity. It is possible to achieve laugh-out-loud responses while tackling serious issues. But for that you need a script that's written smartly enough to make good on its basic premise.
There's a growing list of 2018 mainstream comedy releases that fall disappointingly flat - this is just the latest. Like I Feel Pretty and The Happytime Murders before it, Night School fails to supply consistent laughs (to me at any rate) and fizzles out of storytelling juice long before the end-credits. That its first act promises something genuinely entertaining only adds to the disappointment. Like the career of a talented but lazy student, this is a story of hopelessly squandered potential.
Gut Reaction: Ten minutes' worth of chuckling (that's ten more than during The Spy Who Dumped Me admittedly). Then a wander through the comedy wasteland with some moments of genuine cringe.
Where Are the Women?: Present and as well-drawn as the men (i.e. not very). The gender politics are fairly progressive, which sadly doesn't add to the laugh quotient.
Ed's Verdict: 5.5/10. A further reminder were one needed (hint to US movie industry - it seriously wasn't) that comic talent needs back-up from decent writing. What could easily have achieved a B+ barely scrapes a pass.
