Stacie Ponder is best known by the moniker Final Girl, though a more accurate name might be Renaissance Girl, because this woman does a little of everything—and she does it all quite well. Ponder started as a painter and comic book artist, but then a lifelong love of horror movies led her to begin her delightfully idiosyncratic (and hilarious) blog, Final Girl. A couple of years later, Ponder started to explore filmmaking. Gathering together her friends and a scene-stealing stable of fashion dolls, Ponder wrote and directed projects including the wildly entertaining and campy webseries Ghostella’s Haunted Tomb and Space Girls, as well as the short film Taste of Flesh, Taste of Fear. With her latest film, Ludlow, Ponder has stretched her artistic wings and delivered something wholly different: a dark, disturbing tone poem, featuring a tour-de-force performance from the brilliant Shannon Lark. I recently spoke with Ponder about movies, art and working with real live people.

So, I’m confused. There are no dolls in Ludlow. What’s that about?

I know, look at me—working with real, live people! It weirds me out. Actually, though, there is a doll in the film…but it’s just a doll, not a character. I can see how that would throw you. The doll was going to appear throughout the film, in fact, but I scrapped the idea. Shannon [Lark] and I talk a bit about that on the commentary track, if anyone cares about…well…about an idea that was scrapped. It wasn’t a huge idea or anything, so don’t get excited—it’s not like Ludlow was a killer doll movie or what have you.

Oooh, now that’s a great idea. Think about that. Ludlow has a very realistic, true feel. So much so, that it seems improvised to a large degree. How much of the flick is actually scripted?

There’s no improvisation going on at all. The entire film was scripted. What was most difficult for Shannon, I think—and what she pulled off incredibly well—was getting a grip on some of my dialogue. All of those starts and stops and unfinished thoughts were written as she delivers them. There was a lot of “It’s just…I don’t know what…I can’t tell…when you said….” So much, in fact, that we joked about it. It made her change tack in the middle of a sentence, as the character’s thoughts changed as she spoke. It takes some work for the actors to get a handle on, but I think it’s the way people speak, sometimes.

Absolutely.

It’s the way I speak, anyway. The key is making it sound like dialogue and not something tapped out on a keyboard. Hopefully I—we, I guess I should say, since Shannon had to deliver the lines and make ‘em sound natural—succeeded in that a bit.

Obviously so, since I thought most of the dialogue was ad-libbed. Okay, big question: All your past flicks have been extremely funny. Ludlow isn’t funny at all—quite the opposite, actually. Which begs the question: What happened to you? Are you okay? I was a little worried as I watched it.

[laughs] No, no head injuries suffered or nothin’. When Shannon proposed making a film together, I jumped and decided to write something; I knew immediately that I whatever I came up with would be a “serious” movie. I’d never done that before, so I figured it would be a great challenge for me, since everything I’d done up to that point had been funny, or purposely an attempt at camp or what have you. I put all this pressure on myself to write something “good” so she’d think that working with me wasn’t a waste of time—which is something I’m a bit…eh, “paranoid” seems too strong, but it’s something I’m concerned about, let’s say. My goofy movies are so casual. I mean, they’re fun and all, but it didn’t seem worth Shannon making a big deal and spending money to travel back here for, say, an episode of Ghostella’s Haunted Tomb. I’m proud of theGhostella movies and making them is certainly a blast—but…I don’t know. Maybe I’m downplaying my work. I guess I just wanted to make something dark and serious and worthy and work outside my comfort zone, so I wrote Ludlow. In the end, it’s much more nerve-wracking for me to put it out there in front of people than Ghostella is. It’s much more personal.

I get it. Humor provides a shield and acts a distancing tool. I mean, if someone hates it, you can always say, “Hey, it’s just a little funny movie. It’s not serious.” But Ludlow is really great work. You started in the visual arts—drawing, painting. Then you started writing, and now filmmaking. What kind of artist do you consider yourself to be?

Oh man, I don’t know if I consider myself an “artist” at all. I just draw and paint and write and make movies. I suppose I’m putting my point of view out there, which is the essence—or at least one of the essences—of art, but I bristle at the word. I don’t know why. Too many connotations. Or maybe I don’t know what to call myself and “artist” just feels gross and too undefined. I’m not being glib. I really don’t know what to call myself. I sort of fell into writing and filmmaking without intending to and I love them and if it’s possible to clutch disciplines to one’s bosoms, then those are the ones I want to clutch. But am I a writer and/or a filmmaker? I write and I make movies so I suppose those are appropriate labels, but they don’t fell right, somehow. As you can see, I wrestle with this. [laughs]

Gotcha. No one backs Stacie into a corner. But was filmmaking always a goal of yours? Was that part of the plan when you moved to Los Angeles?

As I kind of indicated, I fell into it more than anything—if it was ever a goal, it wasn’t a real one in the sense that I actually did anything to help make it happen. I moved to Los Angeles just to move to Los Angeles. I had no intention of making movies. If I’d relocated to anywhere else, there’s a chance I wouldn’t be doing it…but here, it’s so easy. Everyone you meet is involved in film in one way or another. It’s everywhere you look, and everyone is gung-ho and ready to play at a moment’s notice. It’s wonderful and it’s an oddly supportive environment, even if most people are out solely for themselves. All that said, I fucking love making movies so I’m glad I’m here.

Did you make movies as a kid, with a Super 8 or video camera?

Nope. Video cameras weren’t really widely available until I was in junior high or so—yes, I’m old! [Editor’s note: Welcome to the club] Once I got a hold of one, my friends and I would goof around and make…umm, “movies” isn’t the right word, but what else can I call them? You know, we’d make those movies that teenagers make, which we thought were hilarious but were just awful awful. It’s not as if we ever wrote anything or really tried. I mean, we found them wildly entertaining, but no one else needed to suffer through them.

You’re also still working on your webseries Space Girls—which is very funny. So, you’re keeping those dolls employed, eh? They’re not waiting tables?

I am still working on Space Girls, but episode three is taking me forever! I hope to finish it soon soon soon. I love Space Girls with all my heartparts, but it’s a shit-ton of work. I also get easily distracted by the other 50 million things I have going on.

Maybe I’m off base, but your career has seemed kind of “found.” That said, do you have a goal you’re headed toward? A five-year plan?

No, you’re not off base at all. I never expected or anticipated being where I am now, writing about horror movies and making them as well. A goal. Hmm, a goal might be nice. I suppose I want to keep doing what I’m doing, but mayhaps on a larger scale? Like, make a movie with a budget or some such? That would be mighty cool. A five-year plan, though—I can’t imagine what that would entail. I hope to be alive, with a place to live, and not starving. Beyond that…I guess writing and making movies. Unless I find something else in the meantime, which is always possible. Talk to me from five years ago and she’d never say writing and making movies, so…

~Theron Neel

The Last Exorcism starts by introducing us to Cotton Marcus (Patrick Fabian), an evangelical preacher who is leaving his faith behind. While as a pseudo-documentary horror film, the first obvious comparison is to The Blair Witch Project, The Last Exorcism actually recalls Marjoe, the 1972 Academy Award winning documentary about evangelist and showman Marjoe Gortner. Like Gortner, the fictional Cotton Marcus is allowing his last act to be filmed to reveal the evangelical art of the con. But where Gortner’s last hurrah was a revival tour, Marcus plans to lay bare the truth behind his specialty. You see, Marcus is an exorcist. And he’s a master of his craft. But his conscience has caught up to him, so he’s going to let everyone in on the tricks of the trade as a public service.

From a stack of requests, Marcus draws the case of Nell Sweetzer (Ashley Bell), a childlike 16-year-old from the backwoods of Louisiana. Nell’s father, Louis (Louis Herthum), is sure she’s possessed and Reverend Marcus is more than happy to assist, much to the dismay of Nell’s disquieting brother, Caleb (Caleb Landry Jones).

As played by Fabian, Marcus is a interesting and charismatic character. He doesn’t see himself as a fraud; he’s just a man providing a service—giving the people what they want. But he’s a good man who cares very much about his family and those he helps. In his care, no one gets hurt and, hey, some may be even be healed. Stamm has cast his film extremely well. Every role is filled with the right performer.

Beyond that, Stamm knows how to work the documentary gimmick just right, as well as invest his movie with a spooky “this could really happen” atmosphere. Especially commendable is the director’s commitment to using only practical effects. (In the age of CGI, it’s nice to see loyalty to the craft of “real” special effects.) All of these elements combine to make The Last Exorcism a persuasively scary flick…until the very end of the film.

Most movies fall apart in the third act. But The Last Exorcism falls apart in the third act of the third act. The requisite twist during the flick’s last few minutes completely destroys all the goodwill the film rightfully earns up to that point. Even then, I was willing to go with it—until the last shot, which totally destroys the movie’s whole premise, or mise-en-scène. It’s a real shame, because for about 85 of its 87 minutes, The Last Exorcism is a killer little film, which leads me to ask: What possessed the filmmakers to end their flick this way? To be sure, it’s a groan-inducing question, to which there can be only one groan-inducing answer: The devil made ‘em do it.

~Theron Neel

There’s always a colorful cast of supporting characters—hustlers, pimps, flim-flammers, junkies and twisted old men that have seen it all and aren’t spilling a drop. Of course, there’s the language, which is a character in itself. Hardboiled slang tells it like it is, but says so much more. Guns are rods, heaters and roscoes; women are bims, dolls and frails; men are jaspers, lugs and palookas. Such colorful descriptions for a world painted in shades of gray.

And in that world, no one is innocent, least of all the hero. He’s a broken man who’s seen too much, but never enough. He’ll take it on the chin for his skirt, even as he’s sending her up the river—because he plays by his own rules. He’ll do the right thing, but it’s his right thing.

Then, there are the women. Whether secretary with a heart of gold or round-heeled chippy with a heart of brass, the women of noir are a major part of the landscape, integral to every mystery. And the most important distaff piece of the puzzle is the femme fatale—accent on the fatale. More curves than a coiled snake and twice as dangerous, these ladies are lethal. Broken dishes with a past longer than their legs and secrets to keep…and tell. Dark eyes that drag you in if you dare to get too close, and from which there is no escape. Not that you’d want to. You know they’re no good but you can’t walk away. They make life worth living, even if it’s behind bars. And make no mistake, if you do fall prey to one of these dames, it’ll be bars of one type or another. Prison or whiskey, your life will be over when they’re done with you.

Portrayed in film noir classics by actresses such as Gloria Grahame, Veronica Lake, Rita Hayworth, Lauren Bacall and Barbara Stanwyck, the femme fatale still exists today. In more recent times, she’s been played by Kathleen Turner, Linda Fiorentino and Isabella Rossellini. But currently, only one woman embodies all that is noir: Carla Gugino. A masterful actress, Gugino can play anything, and has. And with roles in pieces like Judas Kiss, Karen Sisco, Sin City and Snake Eyes, she’s proved she can handle anything noir has to offer.

I know what you’re saying: Great, but where’s the horror in all this? Horror and noir are a natural fit and have crossed paths several times through the years. Many stories by authors Edgar Allan Poe, H.P. Lovecraft and Robert Bloch can be described as noir, all shadows and ambience. And movies such as Nadja, The Addiction, Shutter Island and anything produced by Val Lewton (Cat People, I Walked With a Zombie) can easily be classified as horror noir.

Recently, Gugino teamed with Greg Williams and Sebastián Gutiérrez to make a film noir short. Based on The Tell-Tale Heart by Poe, Tell-Tale is a slice of modern horror noir that has all the necessary elements—lust, betrayal, death—as well as a generous helping of that most important ingredient: atmosphere. It’s a wonderful update of a classic tale. If you’ve never thought of it before, after you watch this skillful blending of styles, you’ll see why horror and noir sit so well together. It’s the dark—of the night, the soul and, most important, her eyes. Take a look. I dare you.

~Theron Neel

Brain Dead is a kickass mutant space zombie movie that hearkens back to the days when horror flicks aspired to entertain, rather than repulse, an audience. Full of ingenious gore effects, gratuitous nudity and witty repartee, Brain Dead is as much a parody of classic zombie flicks as it is a clever update of this much-loved genre. After playing the film fest circuit, it took home 12 awards, including Best Feature at the Rhode Island International Horror Film Festival and Best Horror Feature at San Francisco Indiefest, as well as accolades for special effects at the B-Movie Film Festival and the Phoenix International Horror and Sci-Fi Film Festival.

As I mentioned above, Brain Dead is a bit of throwback. An extraterrestrial parasite crash-lands in a backwoods American town and sparks a fast-spreading zombie infestation. As the brain-hungry monsters multiply, three pairs of unlucky misfits gather in a deserted fishing lodge for shelter. With zombies pounding at the door, the stranded travelers have only two choices: band together to stop the invasion, or serve themselves up as a main course. Will the ill-assorted victims snap and kill each other before the zombies get the chance to do it for them? Or will the ravenous astro-zombies be slaughtered by this rag-tag bunch of characters? You’ll have to check out the DVD to discover the fate of those involved—but no matter how it ends, I promise you’ll have a blast watching it, because Tenney has delivered a totally entertaining little flick.

Tenney has filled Brain Dead with versatile performers, such as Joshua Benton, Michelle Tomlinson and Sarah Grant Brendecke, who are a lot of fun to watch. They can handle the snark as well as the gore—and there’s plenty of both here. Much like Sam Raimi, Tenney can balance humor with horror, and Brain Dead is a perfect example of his skill.

So, do yourself a favor and pick up a copy of Brain Dead this October. It’ll be available from Amazon.com and Netflix, so you won’t have to work hard to find it. And while you’re at it, get yourself a copy of Tenney’s Night of the Demons too. Together, they’ll make the perfect Halloween double feature: Tenney—past and present. It also presents an interesting topic for debate. Which does Tenney handle better, demons or zombies? Discuss among yourselves and get back to me with your arguments. And remember, it’s pass/fail, so no pressure.

~Theron Neel

Today sees the release of Piranha 3D, another in the seemingly endless series of reimagined, remade, reformed, reworked, recreated, rebooted, remodeled, retooled and/or reshaped horror flicks. No, this is not a review of this new version of the 1978 classic. I have yet to see one these new-fangled 3D films and it’s doubtful I’ll start with this one. The original Piranha is one of my favorite “nature runs amok” horror flicks, and for good reason—I mean, just look at the people involved. Produced by Roger Corman, written by John Sayles, directed by Joe Dante and featuring performances by Bradford Dillman, Keenan Wynn, Kevin McCarthy, Heather Menzies, Barbara Steele, Dick Miller, Richard Deacon and Paul Bartel, Piranha remains one of the great B movies. While I think those involved with Piranha 3D have chosen a wonderful film to remake and I wish them well, they will never equal, or even better, the original flick. (Yes, Piranha can be redone, but never outdone.) But why should they? I imagine the producers’ only goal is to turn out a kickass popcorn flick (you know, for kids) for these last weeks of summer, and I bet they’ll do just that. This new flick has a pretty good pedigree as well. My intent is not to judge Piranha 3D. It’s to wring out a halfway coherent (and hopefully entertaining) post for you. So, with no further ado, let us proceed.

Today’s post is another episode of “Compare and Contrast.” Below, you’ll find the trailer for the original Piranha, followed by the trailer for Piranha 3D. And, just for fun (and to add value to your reading/watching experience), I’m throwing in the trailer for the kinda awesome Syfy original movie Mega Piranha, starring Barry Williams and Tiffany—that’s right, Greg Brady and…well…Tiffany! If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend Mega Piranha. I really enjoyed it. Of course, your mileage may vary depending on your tolerance for cheesy, tongue-in-cheek low-budget “entertainment.” (But if you’re still reading, I’m betting your tolerance for such fare is rather high.)

~Theron Neel

Tenney’s Night of the Demons is one of my all-time favorite horror flicks. It’s well-made, a lot of fun and contains a few superb set pieces that have deservedly attained a level of renown all their own. Heck, it even has a few good scares in it. Along with Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn, it stands apart from most other ‘80s horror. So, why not remake it? I say go ahead—make it bigger and louder for a new generation. What can it hurt? It’s actually a great template for a remake. No one can touch Tenney’s original flick. If nothing else, maybe the remake will gain Tenney some heat and bring his original film (as well as his recent Brain Dead) back into the public consciousness. It’s a good sign he’s on board as producer.

This new version of Night of the Demons (directed by Adam Gierasch and written by Gierasch and Jace Anderson) has been kicking around for a couple of years now. For some reason, its release keeps getting pushed back. This usually occurs because the movie sucks—but not always. Sometimes the reason for the delay is political or financial. So far, the consensus on the new version is mostly positive. Gierasch and Anderson have worked together quite a bit on flicks such as Tobe Hooper’s Toolbox Murders (which I didn’t like) and Dario Argento’s Mother of Tears (which I did like). The cast contains Tiffany Shepis, Monica Keena, Shannon Elizabeth and Linnea Quigley (all of whom I like) and Edward Furlong (whom I do not like), as well as various and sundry people I’ve never heard of. So, predicting the remake’s success (read: quality) by its pedigree is an iffy proposition.

All we have to go on is the recently released trailer. Sadly, I don’t care much for the new trailer, which makes it seem like they definitely made Night of the Demons bigger and louder; however, it appears they also made it dumber. Now, no one will ever accuse the original flick of being intelligent, but it was made intelligently. But, hey, this is just the trailer, right? There was a trailer last year that I did like, so I’m keeping an open mind.

Okay, now that I’ve finished arguing with myself, I thought it might be fun to stage a little battle. Below, you will find two (NSFW) trailers. First, the trailer for Kevin S. Tenney’s original Night of the Demons, followed by the latest trailer for the remake. No judgments—just a little session of “contrast and compare.” Remember, this is not a competition. Please, no wagering.

We’ll have to wait until October 19 for the DVD to hit the streets. Only then will we truly know whether the filmmakers who reimagined, remade, reformed, reworked, recreated, rebooted, remodeled, retooled and/or reshaped this consummate piece of horror history deserve to be rewarded for their efforts. Personally, I have reservations but remain cautiously optimistic. Really.

~Theron Neel

Filmed in what the DVD box proclaims to be “Grind-O-Scope” (which is actually just a filter that adds flaws to the picture à la Grindhouse), Nightmare Alley is a bunch of underdeveloped stories held together with a clunky framing device involving a Cryptkeeper-like host who introduces and comments on each story. While some of these tales have the germ of a promising idea, most are pretty generic, pointless fare. But a couple of them, “Meat” and “Closet Case,” have no real narrative at all and should have been cut from the flick. But, on the bright side, these two episodes do have something to offer. They provide an example of what’s wrong with the movie—and, trust me, it’s a common problem in these days of DIY digital movie making.

Preproduction is extremely important. Polish your script till it shines and previz your film. Storyboard it. Cut it in your head. The finished product will prove that the time was not wasted. The script for Nightmare Alley could’ve used several more drafts. Doing so might’ve allowed the filmmakers to find and develop a much better movie. It would’ve been wiser for the filmmakers to pick three of the strongest tales and then flesh them out into 25-minute pieces. Instead, we have seven 10-minute bits that never get the chance to go anywhere. Ruether seems to have a grasp of filmmaking basics, though they’re shaky at best. A few of the episodes have pretty good cinematography and direction—the camera placement is occasionally effective and there are some decent pickup shots—but more often than not, it’s just point and shoot. I don’t know how much preproduction was done, but I bet a little more planning would’ve resulted in an improved flick. Another valuable part of planning is the casting process. Most of the actors here are amateurish at best, although there are a couple of interesting performances sprinkled throughout—oddly, usually in supporting roles.

But there are some positives too. As I said, there are some good ideas here. With this kind of flick, the ghosts of EC Comics and Creepshow are never far away. The flick starts with a “Nightmare Alley” comic book whose horrific stories are visited on those who read them. That would’ve been a better framing device than the horror host, who has nothing of wit or interest to say. And one element of Nightmare Alley was truly impressive: the sound. Most of these independent, DIY horror flicks have spotty, atrocious sound, but Nightmare Alley has amazing sound throughout. That really helps—if the audience can’t hear the dialogue, there’s a good chance they’ll turn off the flick before the end. Nightmare Alley also had some pretty cool music on its soundtrack. Oh yeah, some of the gore effects rise to the level of serviceable. And there’s a sweet painting of Anton Szandor LaVey in one of the vignettes.

Every film is somebody’s baby and I respect that. It takes a lot to actually write, shoot and finish a film, so kudos to Ruether and company. But Nightmare Alley simply doesn’t work. Next time out, it would serve them well to remember that if it’s not on the page, it won’t show up onscreen.

~Theron Neel

This is a one-night-only event, people. So if you’re anywhere near the grand Rio Theatre (1660 E. Broadway) in beautiful Vancouver, BC, Canada, on August 13 (Friday the 13^th, of course), you owe it to yourself to attend what is sure to be one of the coolest events of the summer. The Rio is one of those glorious old movie palaces that, in this age of mall multiplexes, have to be seen to be believed. And the screening of a decadently depraved flick like Dead Hooker in a Trunk in a room designed to show silent films and musicals from Hollywood’s Golden Age is sure to cause a disconnect that will likely rip a hole in the time-space continuum, especially since the Rio is licensed to serve as much alcohol as you can drink responsibly.

The festivities begin at 9 p.m. sharp, to be followed by an after-party (these ladies do love to party) at, count ‘em, two side-by-side restaurants—that’s how much fun is expected to be had. There will be special guests on hand, crazy contests, as well as exclusive Dead Hooker merchandise available for purchase. Tickets are only $10 and can be obtained through the Twisted Twins’ website.

As you can tell, August 13 is going to be a very special night in Vancouver. This is an exceedingly rare chance to see Dead Hooker in a Trunk in the city in which it was filmed, shown by the people who made it and starred in it. How often does that happen? Come on out and meet Jen and Sylv, and share a drink with two up-and-coming legends in the making. This might be one of the last opportunities you have to get this close to these amazing talents. Take advantage of it—if nothing else, you’re sure to get a story out of it. And remember, what happens in Vancouver stays in Vancouver.

~Theron Neel

I finally dug up a synopsis of the plot: “Oh…I don’t know…it would be in the desert…and you know, something would happen…and then…I don’t know…stabstabstab the end.” Admittedly, not much to go on, though absolute genius in its simplicity—but how would Ponder and Lark bring this vague idea to life? Well, a little more than a year later, we finally have the answer to that question. And it’s not what you’d expect.

All of Ponder’s past films have been wildly funny, but Ludlow is very serious business. When the stark, opening images flicker across the screen, it’s apparent this movie is completely different from anything she has done before. A broken young woman, Krista, drives alone through the desert, on the run from her troubled past. Checking into a rundown motel to await the arrival of her sister, Maddy (Elissa Dowling), the battered Krista’s only companions are a large stash of cheap vodka, a seemingly endless supply of anti-psychotics and her increasingly disturbing thoughts. As she sits alone, waiting and self-medicating, her grip on reality becomes tenuous at best. Soon, she can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. And, to Ponder and Lark’s credit, neither can we.

With this movie, Ponder set up quite a challenge for herself—it’s difficult to make a compelling film with two characters, one location and one crew member. But Ponder pulls it off effortlessly. It would’ve been easy for her to misstep with material this dark and ambiguous, but her stunning visual sense and imaginative approach keep the movie moving forward steadily. The narrative she’s conceived is something of a funhouse mirror, and she translates the shattered psyche of her lead character quite effectively using a variety of video and editing techniques. The evocative score by James M. Barry plays a large role in her success, but Ponder’s ace in the hole is Ms. Lark.

As Krista, Lark is in every scene and onscreen almost every second, yet she remains eminently watchable throughout. She manages to make us care for Krista even as we grow to fear her, and that’s a nice trick to pull off. Her role demands she be vulnerable one minute and raving the next and Lark handles it with aplomb, making interesting choices and never once descending into the hammy histrionics these types of parts often elicit from lesser performers. Because of the all the blood and bruises and lack of vanity required, some might call Lark’s performance “brave,” but with her work here Lark has proven she’s a real actor, not just a “spooksmodel.” As Maddy, Elissa Dowling is successful in a tricky part, playing a role that’s more than it seems.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have to reveal that I contributed a very small amount of money toward the completion of Ludlow and my name appears in the closing credits, along with many others who did the same. I spoke with Ponder about this before I received a screener, and we agreed that I would relay my true feelings and divulge any issues I have with the film. Accordingly, as much as I like Ludlow, I do have one consideration—the flick’s running time. At 65 minutes, it’s not quite what’s considered feature length, but I think it’s the perfect length for the material. Ponder could’ve added another 10 minutes, but that would be padding it, and I’d rather see a movie that’s a bit short than one that’s obviously been extended to make it run what’s considered the “correct” number of minutes. And in today’s video-on-demand culture, where people view movies on their computers and phones while answering email and surfing the web, who’s to say what’s the proper length of a feature? I believe that, as the internet becomes a more viable entertainment delivery system and theatrical runs become less of a factor, we’re going to see a shift away from 90-minute movies as a rule. The bottom line is, this is an accomplished film no matter its length.

Ludlow is a mesmerizing look at a woman’s journey into darkness, and it’s definitely not what I expected Ponder and Lark to deliver. Truthfully, I thought we’d get some kind of twisted buddy comedy, like a scary Thelma & Louise. Or maybe alien zombies. But with Ludlow, Ponder has proven she’s an artist with many colors and shades on her palette. I wonder what she’ll paint next—light or dark.

~Theron Neel

I’ve chosen three movies to look at today. All of them are grand, studio-driven productions, costing millions of dollars and featuring big-time movie stars (hmm, it seems to be Leonardo DiCaprio day). This is not the norm here at Slammed & Damned, so I hope you pardon my dip into the commercial pond. But think of it this way: There’s a good chance you’ve seen these films! And that can’t always be said around these parts. Anyway, let us begin.

• Shutter Island (Director: Martin Scorsese, 2010) – Martin Scorsese’s latest Leo-fest is an homage to classic psychodramas, and it’s a very stoic, serious affair. Gorgeously photographed and scored, this flick is a conundrum wrapped in a noir inside a puzzle box full of great actors. That’s the thing about Scorsese: He’s so well regarded that even the smallest roles in his movies are filled with incredible talent—which is good and bad. Sure, every piece of dialogue is acted amazingly, but the films turn into a game of “Look, it’s….” In this case, “Look, it’s Max von Sydow.” “Look, it’s Emily Mortimer.” “Look, it’s Elias Koteas.” But the best was, “Look, it’s Patricia Clarkson.” In just a few minutes, she pretty much stole the movie. Needless to say, it can get a bit distracting. And when you have a narrative this complex, distraction is bad. I was following every twist and turn up till the end. Then, the very last shot turned the whole film on its head. Everything I thought I’d figured out over the previous 2 ½ hours was moot. Consequently, I’m still not sure what happened. I keep going back and forth. Shutter Island seems to be an experiment with the filmmaking styles of decades past, much like what Steven Soderbergh tried with The Good German, though not as formal. While I award both flicks points for conception and execution, Shutter Island ultimately left me cold.
• Inception (Director: Christopher Nolan, 2010) – I’m a big fan of Christopher Nolan, but I wasn’t sure I cared about seeing Inception. It seemed all too much. But because it was a Nolan film, I knew I had to see it sooner or later. And with its ambitious plot and visuals, Inception demanded to be seen on the big screen, so off I went to the local multiplex. Granted, I was a bit intimidated going in. Would I be able to keep up? Would there be so much thinking necessary that I’d miss important plot points while trying to parse the multiple levels of realities involved (I mean, look what happened with Shutter Island)? Would Leo distract me with one of his nutty accents? I admire Nolan and his impeccable casting choices, as well as his ability to craft smart, lofty entertainments. But, for me, the film’s central conceit robbed the story of a large part of its emotional gravitas. (MILD SPOILERS AHEAD) The fact that most of the story takes place in dreams kind of sucks away any feeling of consequence. What does any of it matter if they can wake up when actual danger approaches? Also, I became increasingly bored with the Leo character’s personal problems. The film was advertised as “James Bond meets The Matrix.” I think a better tag would’ve been “Ocean’s Eleven meets The Matrix.” At heart, Inception is a high-concept heist flick, not a family drama…except it is. So, a more factual tag would be “Ocean’s Eleven and The Matrix meet Love Story.” (I know, not as catchy.) Plus, again, 2 ½ hours long! I suppose that’s standard blockbuster length, but by the end I was like, “Just finish already.” That’s never a good feeling for a viewer to experience. If the audience stops caring, it doesn’t matter how cool the EFX are (and they were freakin’ cool). Inception definitely had its moments, yet all I could think was “Memento was a so much more effective, hip film—and it cost so much less to make.” I’m thinking Nolan is becoming the Bizarro World version of Stanley Kubrick. He produces complex, somewhat austere films that are increasingly being made to sate the modern blockbuster appetite—films meant to entertain both cineastes and those that want to see stuff blow up real good. I know I’m in the minority here but, overall, Inception just didn’t do it for me. It reminded me of a mediocre film based on a book long considered unfilmable. (You know, like your favorite complex sci-fi novel, which someone films and you see it and say, “Eh, it was okay, but the book was better.”) I think Nolan did as good a job as possible with the material he had…but I bet Inception would’ve been an awesome book.
• The Wolfman (Director: Joe Johnston, 2010) – Joe Johnston came onto this messy project late in the game. A troubled shoot usually produces a much worse film that The Wolfman. The flick looks great and the digital effects work well enough. Thankfully, the filmmakers decided to use Danny Elfman’s previously discarded score. The movie is full of spooky period atmosphere and scenery-chomping performances—but, hey, that’s what Anthony Hopkins does these days. (He’s become the distinguished Al Pacino.) Emily Blunt busts her bodice quite nicely as our distressed damsel. I was a tad leery about Benicio Del Toro’s casting, but he’s great, as usual. (SPOILERS AHEAD) The story works pretty well, but as soon as I learned that Hopkins passed on the curse to Del Toro, I knew it was only a matter of time until there was a big Freudian Greek tragedy of a werewolf throw down. While I thought it was rather cheesy, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. The Wolfman isn’t a great flick, but it’s probably the best troubled big-budget wolfman movie that could be made in the current blockbuster climate.

Okay, that’s all for today’s session of catch-up. I have a stack of screeners waiting for me. If you’ve sent me a movie, I apologize for making you wait. I appreciate your consideration and very much want to see your baby. I’ll have a review up in a week or so, but it’s awfully hot outside and that swimming pool is looking pretty good right now…

~Theron Neel