Showing posts with label doppelgangers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doppelgangers. Show all posts

Monday, 21 October 2024

October Horrors # 8:
Us
(Jordan Peele, 2019)

Well, speaking of doppelgangers, look what else I watched this month…

There’s an awful lot to unpack in this ambitious attempt to take the Freudian conception of the unheimlich / uncanny to its ultimate extreme, but, given that I’ve got around to it five years late, and given that it was the high profile follow up to an Oscar-winning hit, I’m sure all of its semiotic / socio-political sub-texts and cultural antecedents so on have already been discussed and picked over ad nauseam. 

So, hopefully instead I can just use this space to throw up a few random observations about how well it stands up as horror film - which will be for more enjoyable for all of us, let’s face it. 

 #1:

There is a section of about ten or fifteen minutes in the middle of ‘Us’ (delineating the script’s first and second acts, pretty much), during which the underground / ‘shadow’ version of the film’s central family make their presence known to their real world/above ground counterparts, which is absolutely, honest-to-god terrifying.

In particular, the impact of this sequence is heightened because everything which has happened up to this point has been pretty light-hearted in tone. A bit of eerie atmos, some quirky character dynamics, lots of ‘80s/’90s cultural signifiers, a few laughs… but then, without warning, the tone crashes down into fucking hades. Suddenly, things have the potential to become incredibly grim and upsetting, extremely quickly, as we enter a seemingly inescapable home invasion / captivity scenario, with (checks watch)… nearly ninety minutes still left on the clock?

Thankfully though, this is not the film Jordan Peele chose not to make - for which I am grateful, because it is not one I wanted to watch either.

So, instead, our family members make their assorted, unlikely escapes from what seemed to be their inevitable gory fates, and for the remainder of the picture we are kept entertained by stylised action sequences, an ersatz Romero zombie survival narrative, the pleasure of watching a bunch of unsympathetic secondary characters get whacked, and - under the circumstances - an unfeasibly swift return to an atmosphere defined by wisecracks, laughs and familial banter.

For a few minutes back there though…. well, let’s just say that the (admittedly rather niche) concept of being tortured and killed by a soulless, inarticulate doppelganger of yourself has rarely been conveyed on screen as powerfully as it is here.

#2:

[Not quite a ‘spoiler warning’ as such, but the relevance of this next observation is probably limited to those who have already seen the film, so you might want to skip over it if you’ve not.]

Ok, so, to get straight to the point re: the biggest problem I had with ‘Us’, in spite of its many strengths - am I alone in feeling that everything in this film would have worked so much better if we never received an explanation of what the ‘shadow people’ are, or where they came from?

I mean, we’re given a few fragmentary hints in earlier dialogue about these creatures living underground, subsisting upon raw rabbit flesh etc - which I feel essentially gives us everything we need to pencil in some suitably horrific back story for ourselves, should we care to.

And, I’m about 99% sure that whatever twisted sketches we conjure up as viewers at that point, would prove vastly more effective than the staggeringly absurd, plothole-ridden, poorly thought out ‘rational explanation’ which Peele eventually concocts to help justify the various, totally irrational, scenes and images which clearly inspired him to make this film in the first place.

Given that the ‘big reveal’ segment of the final act is by far the weakest part of the movie, jettisoning it would also have helped slash about twenty minutes from ‘Us’s somewhat bloated run time - but, more importantly, I mean… why can’t contemporary filmmakers just have the balls to keep things mysterious, y’know?

This entire film is basically patterned upon a surrealistic / sub-conscious nightmare scenario, so… can’t we just keep it on that level sometimes, please?

But no. Instead, 21st century cinema’s curse of over-explanation - along with the simultaneous insistence that a story’s protagonists must play a personal/exceptional role in whatever global/societal events are depicted - rear their ugly head yet again.

As a result, we’re left watching the equivalent of a 2.5 hour cut of ‘Night of the Living Dead’ in which the characters travel to the source of the zombie plague and discover that Ben’s dad was actually behind it all, using recovered DNA from Atlantis to re-animate the corpses of astronauts whose deaths were covered up by the CIA, because he just can’t bring himself to reconnect with his estranged son, or some such horseshit.

As I think both Romero’s masterpiece and (more to the point, perhaps) the Two Faces of Evil episode of ‘Hammer House of Horror’ clearly demonstrate, this sort of thing is just not needed - and in fact proves catastrophically detrimental to an attempt to tell this kind of story.

#3:

Random talking point:

I realise this will seem like a bit of an off-beat comparison, but having now watched all three of the horror films Jordan Peele has been to date as writer/producer/director, I keep thinking that, in some way, his directorial style and generally approach to things reminds me of no one so much as Dario Argento.

Clearly the biggest difference between the two of course is in terms of subject matter and characterisation, given that Peele seems like a good-natured fellow who invests a lot of thought and affection into his characters, and doesn’t enjoy seeing them hurt, which is certainly the polar opposite of Argento’s approach to such matters (or, the general perception of it, at least).

Aside from THAT, though…

Peele, like Argento, focusses heavily on technically audacious, attention-grabbing Big Shots and painstakingly pre-planned set-pieces of outlandish mayhem, which nonetheless tend to end up feeling a bit confused, emphasising visceral impact over coherence.

And, both directors have a tendency to announce these set-piece scenes through the use of big, booming over-amped pieces of Signifying Music.

Additionally, although ‘Get Out’ was admittedly a pretty lean and efficient piece of work, in his other two films to date, Peele also seems to share Argento’s chronic difficulties with story-telling. As writers, both mean insist on cramming their scripts with far too many ideas, themes, images, cultural references and so, without ever pausing to think them through properly, or to consider how they might cohesively combine into a single narrative.

Related to which, both directors are also entirely shameless in their willingness to confront their viewers with events or ideas so ridiculous that they basically short circuit any attempt at rational thought, presenting projects which dispense with real world logic and diverge from their core ideas/themes to a quite extraordinary degree. Which is definitely a compliment in Argento’s case, once you get used to his uniquely peculiar MO. In Peele’s case, I’m note quite so sure...

Certainly, ‘Us’ sees him turning in a movie which gets about half way toward being absolutely extraordinary, then over-reaches itself to the point of absurdity.

Which, in a similar spirit, concludes my random, insufficiently processed, thoughts on ‘Us’ for the time being.

Friday, 18 October 2024

October Horrors # 7:
Hammer House of Horror:

The Two Faces of Evil


(Alan Gibson, TV, 1980)



The 12th, and penultimate, episode of the ‘Hammer House of Horror’ may not necessarily be the best, or most entertaining, of the series - but it is almost certainly the most unsettling, rivalled only by The Silent Scream (also directed by dark horse Alan Gibson, who arguably offered better proof of his talents here than in the theatrical features he made for Hammer during the early ‘70s).

Ranald Graham’s story begins in what by this point has become conventional HHoH fashion, with a well-to-do family (mother, father and one young child) driving through rural Surrey on their way to a holiday cottage. (Location freaks and aficionados of provisional British oddness will delight in the prominence afforded to a battered signpost specifying the distances to Aylesbury, Stoke Manderville and High Wycombe.)

In the midst of a rainstorm however, whilst traversing what looks very much like the same dark stretch of woodland road previously seen in the Children of the Full Moon episode, they pick up a tall hitchhiker, his face obscured by an over-sized yellow rain mac. Alarmingly, the stranger immediately attacks the father, throttling him and and stabbing him with a sharpened fingernail, causing the car to crash and overturn in the process.

Awakening in a suspiciously clean and idyllic country hospital, the mother of the family (Janet, played by Anna Calder-Marshall) learns that her son has survived unharmed, but that her husband (Gary Raymond) has sustained a number of injuries, and is recuperating following an emergency operation to remove fragments of glass from his throat. The evil hitchhiker, seemingly, is dead, following what the police tell Janet appears to have been an extended struggle with her husband following the accident.

Immediately, the ostensibly quiet and orderly world into which Janet has reawakened is painted by Gibson’s direction as treacherous and threatening. In a Polanski-like manner, perfectly innocent supporting characters (nurses, doctors, policemen) appear sinister and untrustworthy.

Seemingly innocuous dialogue (eg, several unrelated characters making reference to “foxes and badgers”) begins to imply a conspiratorial undertone, whilst a sense of Janet’s post-traumatic shock is very effectively conveyed, as she is assailed by momentary flashbacks to the accident and the violence which followed. This culminates in a harrowing sequence in which - dragging her son behind her - she insists on laboriously collecting the ruined remains of the family’s possessions into overstuffed plastic bags, dragging them back to the holiday cottage and burning them, as if to erase the memory of the accident and the inexplicable assault which caused it.

Subsequently, Nightmare Logic takes hold, as the identity of Janet’s “husband” becomes confused with that of the deceased “hitchhiker”, whose facial features, in defiance of all reason, appear to be identical. Other distinguishing features seem split unevenly between the two bodies, with neither quite matching the characteristics of the husband, and, when the surviving man - bandaged and still unable to speak - is discharged back into her care, Janet notices his sharpened fingernail…

Eventually taking a full on supernatural turn (although gratuitous ‘explanations’ are wisely avoided, allowing the sense of irrational nightmarishness to remain undiminished), ‘The Two Faces of Evil’ is a visceral and uncompromising update on the theme of the doppelganger. Evidently inspired to some extent by ‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers’, it proceeds to add a more psychotic/barbaric edge to the material, anticipating Jordan Peele’s ‘Us’ by four decades as it disturbingly fuses the disintegration of personal identity with an imminent threat of bloody violence.

Brief, minimally staged and seemingly made with a somewhat lower budget than many of the other episodes in the series, it nonetheless makes for memorable and uncomfortable viewing.