An Unpopular Opinion: Ethnocentrism and Cultural Relativity

Here comes the end of neo-grindhouse era.

When Here Comes the Devil won all the horror awards at Fantastic Fest in 2012, I was a little disappointed in the horror community. Sure, it was a good movie, but certainly not the best one at the festival. Perhaps Berberian Sound Studio was too cerebral, The Collection too much of a sequel, and Antiviral too Canadian, but still.

I recall a conversation I had on the subway with a friend one August night. We were talking about The Raid and he said he didn't think the movie had lived up to all the hype. I like The Raid, I think it's a fine movie, and loads of fun to watch, but I responded with something like, "Well, maybe people make a big deal because it's foreign." He was inclined to agree.

The issue here is one of ethnocentrism, meaning we think we're awesome and everyone else less so. That then translates into a kind of perverse and vaguely biased criticism of foreign-made product. In this specific case, genre film. What I mean is this: non-western genre cinema is looked on favourably by western critics regardless of whether those movies are actually any good. Thus, Here Comes the Devil wins Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Screenplay, Best Director, and Best Picture because it's a Mexican independent horror feature.

That's not to suggest Adrian Garcia Bogliano or any other Mexican filmmaker isn't capable of making a really good movie, I'm just saying this particular film didn't merit all the accolades it received. Were the film made in the US, by an American indie filmmaker, it's unlikely it would have garnered as much positive press.

Or would it've?

At the end of 2014, everyone in the horror blogosphere was lining up to praise indie horror feature Starry Eyes. Likening it to Rosemary's Baby, horror critics and fans were calling it the best horror movie of the year. Starry Eyes has as much common with Polanski's devilishly slow burning gyno-horror as it does with The Servants of Twilight, a rather decent horror/thriller a lot of folks have never heard of: Satanic seniors. That's it. That's the whole comparison and, very likely, the foundation upon which the film's success is built.

Granted, Alex Essoe does a great job in the role of the starry-eyed (get it?) Sarah, but the the movie waffles between an indictment of ambition and an odd nostalgia for a Hollywood system that burned itself out decades before the main character was ever born. Sarah's struggle for stardom is set against the backdrop of a stagnant group of up-and-comers who talk about starting projects they'll never finish, and the look of the thing is as bland as the characters (with the noted exception of Sarah).

Starry Eyes adopts the modern western horror aesthetic of washed-out colours and an aggressive anti-tableau visual direction. I should say western indie horror, which I interpret as some kind of misguided reaction against mainstream horror that still places value in rich colour saturation and mise-en-scene. If Starry Eyes' director, Dennis Widmyer, really was channeling Roman Polanski (or even Jeffery Obrow), he would have paid more attention to setting the scene and having his characters move through it.

And yet Starry Eyes captured the hearts of horror fans. It's confusing and ultimately self-defeating, but because it's indie, it was held to different standard. Not lower, mind you, just different than what's expected from mainstream horror.

So the question now is how would Starry Eyes stack up against Here Comes the Devil? I can't answer that. But I will say that both films were equally, if for different reasons, forgiven their shortcomings. I'll also say that I'm not above being lenient to special movies, but I know when I'm doing it. I know that I'm sometimes too nice or, conversely, too mean to a low-budget movie. But I also know that a budget of $3 is no excuse for turning out a crummy film, and that cheap indie films can and do exceed expectations.

This image selection is deliberately misleading.

Found is a super-low-budget feature from first-time director Scott Schirmer. And it's great. Found's success, unlike so many other indie movies, is founded upon a solid script. Schirmer optioned a novel (he payed a whopping $1) and worked hard to adapt it to the screen. Schirmer also knew an FX artist and enlisted her and her students to work on his film. Now, not all first-timers have access to great and wonderful blood and guts and severed heads, but they do have access to educational resources and materials. Schirmer knew something about filmmaking and editing before he set to work and it shows in Found's storytelling.

It's entirely possible that Found is an outlier, a rarity. But it proves that with a little hard work and dedication, something as abysmal as Chainsaw Killer (one of the cheapest and worst movies I've seen) can rise above its station. Furthermore, a good movie is a good movie regardless of where it came from and how much it cost to make.

A movie's pedigree shouldn't influence opinions about its quality. Granted, film criticism will always be partly subjective, no matter how objective we try to be, but we have to resist the temptation to give certain films a pass. I'm not arguing for one standard that applies to all movies all the time--that's simply not fair. But if we're honest with ourselves about our opinions, we can be more transparent in our judgements.

We might sound like ethnocentric jerks to qualify our criticisms with "pretty good for a Thai movie," but it's necessary if our only point of reference is Hollywood. Indeed, something like Shutter stacks up well against against a lot of horror offerings from all over the place, but there's little to be gained from comparing Art of the Devil to Skeleton Key. A more culturally relativistic approach would be to evaluate Thai, or Mexican, or American indie horror, etc., in relation to other Thai, or Mexican, or American indie horror, etc., and work outwards from there. That way we can be reasonably sure our value judgements have merit.

So then what do we do in a festival setting where we can't judge emically" and must judge "etically"? Where Here Comes the Devil has to be held up against Antiviral? Honestly, I'm not sure I have a quick and easy answer. I guess, in that case we have to answer to politics and popularity, because that's was these kinds of contests are all about. Frankly, at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter who wins, but the how and the why can be very telling indeed.

Death of a Ghost Hunter

Shortly after I saw Paranormal Activity, I found this film on Netflix and though I meant to add it to my queue, I didn't.  I don't know why.  I guess I was still riding the PA indie high and wasn't ready yet to come back down to earth.  Well, I finally crashed a little while ago and got round to queuing up Death of a Ghost Hunter.

In 1982, the Mastersons were murdered in their home.   Twenty years later, the nephew of the dead patriarch has hired ghost hunter Carter Simms to investigate the house.  Though Carter prefers to work alone, she's joined by videographer Colin, journalist Yvette, and Mary Young, who is there to protect the good name of the Masterson family.  Over three days and nights, the team record and review their experiences.  Carter self-identifies as a skeptic, but even she can't refute the evidence for a haunting in the Masterson house.

The film begins like a lot of other found footage-type movies, with a disclaimer.  But Death of a Ghost Hunter is not a found footage film.  Rather, it's a docudrama recounting Carter's doomed investigation.  Since we already know how the story ends, the point is to watch the events unfold.  Unfortunately, the film plays more like a reenactment than a docudrama, which is a bit of a shame, really.  The story's quite good but gets bogged down in voice-over and exposition.  What's more, the reenactment fails to fully explain the hows and whys of the haunting.

The problem is one of execution.  As I said, the film has a solid story but its telling leaves something to be desired.  Carter and her companions have no doubts the house is haunted, and though they find some things to suggest the Mastersons were into some weird shit, they never find out exactly what was going on.  Moreover, the film begins on that fateful night in 1982 and there's an expectation that these events will be fully explained, yet that final explanation, when it comes, is presented as a kind of epilogue--it exists outside the experiences of Carter and her friends.  The overall effect is a lack of closure for the ghost hunters.

In addition to structural issues, the films suffers a few logic problems as well.  Somewhat unbelievably, a good part of the story hinges on a flawed understanding of police procedure, but the problem doesn't present itself until the very end of the movie.  This gap in logic doesn't completely negate the entire story, which is a blessing, but results in those structural problems I mentioned above.

Death of a Ghost Hunter starts off strong and in spite of its poor second half, the movie does manage to make an interesting statement about ghosts and hauntings.  Most haunted house movies focus on the experiences of the people being haunted as they suffer through and eventually come to understand the haunting.  These movies take for granted the haunting itself, rarely commenting on the experiences of the ghosts after death.  Death of a Ghost Hunter briefly explores this other side, and though it completely destroys the narrative device, the ghosts' point of view is an inspired bit of filmmaking.

I'm curious to see what the filmmakers do next, and whether they've learned from their mistakes; this film serves as an example of how story and logic problems accumulate, eventually taking over the narrative structure.  However, with a solid foundation and a couple of genuinely creepy moments, Death of a Ghost Hunter is still a good indie ghost story.

Hell House: Book of Samiel

If you've ever taken a gander at the movies I've reviewed or listened to TheAvod, you'll know that I have a pretty high tolerance for crap. Ominous words to begin this review, but I want you to understand something about me: I will sit through almost anything and will work very hard to find something positive to say. I'm not always successful in this endeavor, but at least I try.

I had no idea what to expect when I turned on Hell House: Book of Samiel, but I was not ready for amateur hour at the drive-in. Now, I have no problem with low-budget, shot on video, indie horror but it's got to be something special to really hold my attention.

Paul and Dani, Steve and Sasha spend the night in a haunted house despite being warned away by a psychic. As the night wears on, the evil that pervades the house attacks everyone but Paul. Paul is spared because he's needed to complete a dark ritual in order to bring about hell on earth.

Indeed, a lot more happens, but this is the heart of story. I could talk about the man who may or may not be possessed by a demon who attacks everyone who comes to the house, I might mention the backstory about the numerous people who were killed in the house, or I could say something about either the portal to hell in the basement or the actual book of Samiel.

But I won't, except to say that Hell House: Book of Samiel suffers not from an abundance of story, but a lack of storytelling. The film is so poorly written that it's taxing for the viewer to watch and understand. Moreover, the film's title would suggest the plot revolves around an evil book, but the book itself is never mentioned and only seen twice. I suspect this last offense is due more to marketing than the filmmakers' shortcomings--the title as it appears in the film is simply Hell House. But still, the book is important to the house's motivations but it doesn't get the screen time.

As is the case with a lot of amateur film, the movie lacks a certain technological sophistication and polish. Poor sound mixing makes the whole thing hard to hear, which only adds to the confusion. There is some good camera work, however, some choice editing particularly at the beginning, and the make-up isn't bad. But these are drops in the bucket.

I seriously considered stopping Hell House, but I didn't, if only to write this somewhat self-congratulatory review (go me!). The movie starts off well enough, but quickly succumbs to story problems. Characters are inconsistent in both their behaviours and presence in the movie--people change on a dime, and come and go from the story, almost as if the writers lost track of what was going on. I'm willing to forgive a lot, but once Hell House's plot started spiraling out of control, I lost interest.

I can't say with any certainty that I succeeded this time in finding a kernel of positivity in Hell House: Book of Samiel. But I did make to the end, so that's something, right? Right?!?

Ink

Some time ago while reading some random movie sites, I heard mention of Ink. I was curious, but ultimately too lazy to really do anything about satisfying my curiosity. And then I got wind of Double Edge Films' DVD giveaway. I'm sure I'll be karmically paying for this bit of luck somewhere down the line.

John is estranged from his young daughter, Emma. He might still love her, but he's too consumed by his work. When she suffers a seizure and winds up in the hospital, Emma's gaurdian/grandparents ask John to visit, but John says no. Tormented by his decision, John battles with his innate love for his daughter while at the same time harbouring a deep hatred for the people who took her away. When he gets into a car accident, he's taken to the same hospital as Emma, and John finally puts aside his resentment and goes to his daughter.

As these events unfold in the real world, the people of the dreamworld, which exists somewhere in between this world and the next, are hard at work trying to prevent something terrible from happening. Emma has been kidnapped by Ink, who plans to take her to the Incubi--the ones who bring nightmares--and exchange her for freedom. The storytellers--the people who bring good dreams--try to influence the waking John in the real world to do the right thing before Ink sells his daughter's soul.

Ink reminds me of Nightwatch. I think it's the idea of there being this battle of good vs evil going on all around us all the time and we don't know about it. And it kind of looks like Nightwatch, which is, in my opinion, a good thing. Also, the movie's a bit like Dark City in that it deals with sleep and dreams. But the film has merits all its own, and its visual style and themes are just two reasons of many as to why Ink succeeds.

Ink looks good, and the visual effects, particularly the Incubi, are well done. I do have to lodge a complaint against the use of shakycam in the fight scenes, and there are a number of fights. But the rest of the movie, its look and style, help to make up for the poorly filmed fight scenes. I'll also mention that I really liked the music. This isn't something I normally comment on, but it made a real impression.

Urban fantasy is not common among genre film. I'm not entirely sure why this is, maybe because it functions almost as a paradox--two different and very real worlds exist at the same time in the same place--but whatever the reason, I'm always happy to see an attempt. And Ink is, in my opinion, an honest and original attempt at something different.