Going Underground

Creep (Christopher Smith, 2004)

File Christopher Smith's directorial debut Creep (2004) as another overlooked Y2K era horror film constantly overlooked by wet-behind-the-ears film buffs on YouTube. Smith's subterranean themed chiller, located beneath the streets of London, was another important entry in the New Wave of British Horror as it was another quality entry in the movement; maintaining the momentum kickstarted by Neil Marshall's Dog Soldiers (2002) and Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later (2002).

Horror films set in underground caves and tunnels are of particular interest for your host, as they represent the primal fear of the dark and unknown. An abundance of phobias, like bathophobia (fear of depths), cleithrophobia (fear of being trapped), taphobia (fear of being buried alive) and the more familiar claustrophobia are inextricably linked to the dark below. Hence, horror set underground has resulted in some delightfully atmospheric films, like C.H.U.D. (1984), The Descent (2005) and As Above, So Below (2014). It also might explain why this humble film blogger is one of the few people who likes the unfortunately titled The Midnight Meat Train (2008) given the piss poor CGI gore effects and Vinnie Jones being in it.

George Clooney, the smarmy-faced global ambassador of those dreadful Nespresso adverts, is in London. Determined party girl Kate (Franka Potente) confidently assumes she's in with a chance in hooking up with the Hollywood A-lister if she gets to him in time. This means, she's willing to ditch the office party she's at, where her only entertainment is ridiculing Guy's (Jerry Sheffield, AKA the boyfriend in Natalie Imbruglia's Torn music video) obnoxious come-ons. Kate is wasted from the booze and drugs she's already partaken in and falls asleep at a train platform. When she wakes up, she finds herself all alone and locked inside a London Underground station. Thus, the premise is set and introduces the viewer to the subterranean world of its titular antagonist.

Creep is essentially a gore tainted, morality tale for our heroine. Kate's an arrogant and unlikeable individual, initially. However, given the film's grand order of horrid individuals — which includes the stuck-up bint queuing at a ticket machine, a jobsworth security guard (who really should have spotted Kate asleep at the train platform; the film's most egregious plot hole, for many) and the aforementioned Guy attempting to rape our heroine — Kate is the least insufferable of the lot. This doesn't absolve her condescending treatment toward the junkie homeless couple, Jimmy (Paul Rattray) and Mandy (Kelly Scott), who are squatting in the station's store room. Their chances of survival would have been far greater if the party girl never chanced upon them. 

In an archived interview with the BBC, Christopher Smith intended for Kate to be written this way:

"The idea of the story is, here's someone that you see every day whom you might not like but you might recognise in yourself - in the way that you step over homeless people and don't give them the time of day. I wanted to ask, how do we take a character that's this full of herself and this full of self-importance, and shake her down to a level where she can be mistaken for a homeless person? For me, the first likeable person in the movie is Paul Rattray's character [Jimmy], the homeless guy. And by the time you get to him, you're like, 'At last! A character we can actually like!'"

In retrospect, that's a refreshing aspect which distances it from the virtuous white tank top and high waisted jeans final girls of the 2000s. Additionally, Kate's canary yellow dress is a notable feature in the film, as it gets increasingly grubby and dirty throughout the progress of the film; ultimately leading to her being mistaken for a vagrant by a faceless suit and tie man at the end of the film. Reinforcing Kate's moral lesson.

That very same BBC interview, also clears up the notion I had about the film being a quasi-remake of Garry Sherman's subterranean horror Death Line (AKA Raw Meat, 1972), which also features an underground denizen who eats people. Smith hadn't seen the film at the time, and goes on to reveal that Creep was inspired by the London Underground scene from John Landis's masterpiece (and quite frankly, the greatest film ever made) An American Werewolf in London (1981). Always a delight whenever a director appreciates a proper film and not some pretentious one they were taught at film school. 

While Potente does a commendable job in turning her unlikeable character into a sympathetic one, it's method actor Sean Harris's performance as the titular villain, hilariously named Craig, who happens to be the biggest highlight of the film. Severely deformed, our antagonist looks like a cross between Gollum and a chav roofer in baggy shorts and Dr. Martens boots. Along with the heavy prosthetics, he physically exudes the part as the creepy denizen. In one particular scene, he descends down from an overhead vent, casually swinging with one arm before landing to the ground; like a hideous gymnast. Craig also emits a piercing shriek when he enters an area, which is both chilling and fascinating. Another great detail is how the he seems to alert his presence with a mischief or rats, like a mutated Pied Piper. This all leads to the vital question on the origin of the character.

Much like Marshall's The Descent, Creep also manages to contain plenty of visual stimuli, despite being set underground. Locations are surprisingly various: from the brightly lit Charing Cross Station; rat infested sewage tunnels; unknown storerooms; a long forgotten hospital basement; and an abandoned underground station that serves as the Creep's lair — overall, striking locations for this film. The constant surge of urgency for our protagonist, and a sewage worker ironically named George (Vas Blackwood) who is rescued by Kate, contribute to both a highly atmospheric and kinetic film, and why it's one of the more effective slashers from this era; especially given it's relative low budget.

In summary, Creep is an impressive debut from the writer and director who would helm Severance (2006), one of the few Danny Dyer movies worth watching; the psychological, mind bender classic Triangle (2009); and the folk horror gem Black Death (2010), the end of Christopher Smith's winning streak. Thus, it's a shame not many people know about his debut, other than brainlets prefering Patrick Brice's 2014 found footage film with the same name over it whenever it's discussed; which ought to be made a criminal offence, in my opinion.

Praying for a domestic physical release of Creep, as the recent Aussie Blu-Ray will easily break the bank to buy and ship it.

Slow West

The House of the Devil (Ti West, 2009)

Nostalgia is usually a wistful affection for the past. In the case of the film industry, it's a lucrative hustle. A safe bet averting the risk of an original offering failing. Hence, successes from yesteryear are turned into sequels, prequels, remakes, reboots, interquels and whatever new spin can be hustled up in order to milk that cow. Thankfully, writer and director Ti West has always had a better grasp of what nostalgia entails than the vast majority of hacks lazily associating '80s aesthetics with grainy video filters, neon lighting and a synthwave soundtrack. In more recent years, his X trilogy (2022 - 2024) would mark his return to retro-style horror. However, the best example of West's masterful execution in this style is unquestionably his seminal retro horror The House of the Devil (2009); a remarkable shot on 16mm love letter to independent horror films of the '70s and early '80s.

Produced with a modest budget of just under $1M, The House of the Devil is a baby sitter in peril chiller set during the era of the Satanic Panic hysteria on the night of a lunar eclipse. The film's protagonist, Samantha "Sam" Hughes (Jocelin Donahue), is a college student who, desperate to earn cash and be an independent spirit, avoids a series of obvious red flags after seeing an advertisement for a baby sitter. The money on offer is too good to pass up, or so it seems. Thus, West's slow burn horror adds layer upon layer of elements that Sam can no longer avoid.

Of course, a young baby-sitter having to fend for her life in a horror film is hardly unique, but The House of the Devil does have the advantage of featuring one of the most realistic protagonists in this style of film. What makes Sam so special is the very fact she is both a down to earth and sympathetic character. Traits that have becomes increasingly rare in horror films since the 2010s. If anything, our protagonist is in the very same mould as Laurie Strode from John Carpenter's Halloween (1978). The girl-next-door.

Sam wouldn't be so well realised on film if it wasn't for Jocelin Donahue's great acting. The feathered hair, flannel shirt and high waisted jeans might be throwbacks to vanilla, do-gooder final girls from yesteryear, but Donahue manages to portray her character with incredible depth in her nuanced performance; making her a compelling character on screen. Donahue is an integral element to the film feeling equally authentic to the vintage vibe of the film. Therefore, it's such a disappointment not seeing her perform in anything equally as substantial ever since the release of the film.

As for the supporting cast, this includes recognisable veterans from notable genre films of the past. Dee Wallace has a minor role at the start of the film as a sympathetic landlady. Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov have larger roles as the unabashedly creepy Ulmans; the couple eager to hire Sam to babysit "Mother" so they can go off to celebrate the all important lunar eclipse mentioned throughout the film. Additionally, A.J. Bowen's callous spontaneity is alarming playing their son Victor. The bearded actor, shares a shocking scene with Sam's bubbly best friend Megan (Greta Gerwig), who might have been modelled on Lynda Van Der Klok, that can't be forgotten anytime soon.

Like many films of the '80s, The House of the Devil features a short music montage. Apart from the novelty factor of seeing Sam with her walkman dance around the spooky Ulman house to The Fixx's One Thing Leads to Another, it acts as an important segue from the slow build up of terror of the first half to the all out panic-mode in the second half of the film. The song abruptly ends once Sam accidentally knocks over a vase and a revelation to the immediate danger she is in.

Considering The House of the Devil has layers of nuance and an intentional slow pace, particularly in the first half, it's a title often criticised for being too slow by the Ritalin generation. Therefore, it's essentially a Marmite movie; you either love it, or hate it. Your host is one of those who absolutely adore it.

The ‘00s was a decade dominated by remakes. Remakes of classics from yesteryear and English language versions of foreign films for an audience too lazy and ignorant to read subtitles. Torture porn would boom in popularity and outshine the previous decades' worth of comparatively tame splatter movies. Yet, throughout this cinematic meat grind, The House of the Devil went back to the essence; when fear and suspense were just as integral to a bloody payoff.  By going against the grain, Ti West managed to succeed where so many other film makers have failed and truly recaptured on film a bygone era.

Classic. 

In Darkness

The Descent (Neil Marshall, 2005)

The first real sign of a British horror renaissance came with Neil Marshall's action horror comedy Dog Soldiers (2002). It turned out to be one of the few lycanthrope themed movies post An American Werewolf in London (1981) that was actually any good. The low budget gem would serve as an appetiser to the Danny Boyle main course that was 28 Days Later — essentially the game changer which gave new life to zombie films. Marshall avoided the dreaded sophomore jinx by delivering his own masterpiece, with the subterranean horror The Descent (2005).

Dog Soldiers had trained men fending against a pack of werewolves; The Descent would follow a similar formula with chicks an all girl, extreme sports collective pitted against the horrors beneath the surface of the earth. Chicks with picks! Ingeniously, Marshall would utilise the dark horrors of a huge underground cave system as a metaphor for trauma, loss and grief. These elements would appear nuanced, initially, becoming increasingly evident throughout the progression of his film.

From The Descent's opening credits, showcasing three of its adventurous characters white water rafting, the audience is introduced to a secret affair. The scenes are short, but linger long enough to imply there is something going on between ultra sporty Juno (Natalie Mendoza) with the husband of Sara (Shauna MacDonald), our protagonist. This is also witnessed by Beth (Alex Reid), Sara's closest friend. We're barely given time to process this situation when a tragic car accident results with the fatalities of Sara's husband and young daughter, Jessica. Sara wakes from her hospital bed, calling for Jessica as she wanders a liminal corridor. The harsh fluorescent lights swiftly turn off as she runs from the darkness. If this isn't a metaphor, I don't know what is.

A year after the tragedy. The three women are joined by three more adrenaline junkies; Holly (Nora-Jane Noone), Rebecca (Saskia Mulder) and Sam (MyAnna Burning), for the latest adventure organised by Juno. This time, it's cave exploration in the Appalachian mountains (it's really filmed in the UK). Call it reckless stupidity, but Juno tricks the clique by taking them to a completely different cave than they were meant to be exploring. Worst of all, she couldn't be bothered to notify any park ranger or a non-party individual of their actual location, either. Therefore, should anything go wrong, a search and rescue team would be sent looking for them in the wrong cave. Genius.

The situation turns serious once the claustrophobic tunnel they've just crawled through collapses, blocking their entrance and possibly, their only exit. Their only choice, is to go further into the cave and search for another way out. As one would predict, events go from bad to worse for the party. From having to traverse across a subterranean ravine, to Holly's succumbing to a broken leg after a fall, to the hundreds of animal carcasses they discover which are littered everywhere. Meanwhile, Sara has apparently gone doolally to everyone when she spies a distant man in the caverns. Worst case scenario is when she turns out to be right, but also, the added bonus of an entire clan of subterranean denizens, nowhere near as likeable as Wombles, holed up with them. Have a guess what their dietary preferences are?

Dubbed as Crawlers, there isn't much suggestion in the film as to what they really are, but the prehistoric cave art is an obvious clue. During the behind the scenes feature, Marshall reveals that the Crawlers are the evolutionary outcome of those human ancestors who had remained in the caves. The design of these feral creatures is first-class. The has made them blind. Also, the lack of any sunlight has made their skin alabaster white and clammy — a bit like Scottish folk. Their hearing, is far more acute than ours; with almost bat-like ears. The creatures emit dolphin sounding clicks as a sonar to navigate, possibly to communicate with one another, too. Very reminiscent of the Predator species sound. Crawlers are also incredibly nimble and dexterous at clambering over the rock surfaces. The male species are bald and hairless, while the females Crawlers have long, black hair.

For a film that's set beneath our feet, The Descent has an immense amount of visual interest to soak in. For instance, there are a variety of different looking areas of all shapes and sizes within this cave system. From expansive areas full of stalactites and stalagmites, to frightfully claustrophobic enclosures. My favourite mise-en-scène is the gruesome pool of blood. These were of course produced in a studio, for obvious safety reasons. An additional benefit, is how atmospherically lit the film is, considering it's entirely set in dark caverns. The use of flares cast a red illuminating light to everything, making it literally look like Hell. Chemical light sticks provide a sickly green glow, while the aid of night vision from the digicam adds a layer of found footage horror, which was commonly part of the trend in the 2000s thanks to the worldwide commercial success of The Blair Witch Project (1999).

Considering the era it was produced, what's truly advantageous about The Descent is its writing. Marshall expertly balances the tight rope of giving enough information about his characters, without burdening them with unnecessary exposition which would drag and potentially suffocate his film. Also, given how its predominantly all female characters, it's a blessing they're not eye-rolling, invincible girl bosses, as is the norm today by lazy and uncreative screenwriters. Juno for instance, has all the hall marks of your typical girl boss, and yet, beneath her tough veneer, is a flawed individual, who serves the film as both a secondary antagonist as well as character being somewhat sympathetic whilst striving to redeem herself. In contrast, Sara develops from an unreliable protagonist and a possible detriment for the clique, to a fighter battling both her own personal demons as well as the very physical ones. This culminates in an intense, and personally speaking, a cruel resolution between Sara and Juno in the film. Making it all the more memorable in the film.

Perhaps the worst offence committed upon The Descent, is the US cut completely editing out Marshall's downbeat ending, ruining Sara's psychological plight which is both prominent and pivotal to the true ending of the film. In a swift and choppy sequence, Sara manages to burrow out from her hell hole and drives as far away as possible. The twist being, it was only a dream. Sara is still trapped down below in the cave. Envisioning her deceased daughter blowing out a birthday cake. Twisted respite before the Crawlers finally reach Sara. Unfortunately, the imaginary escape is seen as the official ending, as the inferior The Descent Part 2 (2009) adheres to the terribly American ending. It isn't enough that Sara escapes, but she foolishly returns to the same cave for the sequel!

 

As enjoyable as some of Neil Marshall's later films were  — I'm quite fond of his obvious Escape from New York, 28 Days Later and Mad Max mash-up, the ridiculous Doomsday (2008), he never hit the same high as The Descent before working on more TV orientated work. Therefore, it makes it all the more invaluable in proclaiming The Descent is one of the best horror films of the 21st century, which by default, makes it one of the best films in general for your genre biased host. Considering, Dog Soldiers already received some 4K UHD boutique love, is it too much to request the same treatment for Marshall's masterpiece? One would say, no!

Picks of 2005

The mid point of the Noughties was when we said hello to YouTube, goodbye to Ronnie Barker, and hello again to The Doctor.

A few film picks I enjoyed from 2005, or grown on me since then:

Batman Begins (Christopher Nolan)

Corpse Bride (Mike Johnson, Tim Burton)

The Descent (Neil Marshall)

A History of Violence (David Cronenberg)

Hostel (Eli Roth)

House of Wax (Jaume Collet-Serra)

Lady Vengeance (Park Chan-wook)

Land of the Dead (George A. Romero)

Lord of War (Andrew Niccol)

Sin City (Frank Miller, Robert Rodriguez)

S.P.I: Kill Zone (Wilson Yip)

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith (George Lucas)

Transporter 2 (Louis Letterier)

V for Vendetta (James McTeigue)

Wolf Creek (Gregg McLean)

Glaring Blindspots: 

Noroi: The Curse (Kōji Shiraishi), A Bittersweet Life (Kim Jee-woon), Jarhead (Sam Mendes), Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (Shane Black), The Proposition (John Hilcoat).

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Critics list Michael Haneke's Caché as one of the greatest films from 2005 - and of the decade, for that matter. It's too insufferably middle class and uppity for me to ever watch again in one sitting and nowhere near as good as watching Paris Hilton's death in the House of Wax remake.
• Comic book movies were already oversaturated by this year; well before Disney's MCU came along. However, film adaptations of alternative comic books (History of Violence, Sin City [peak era Rosario Dawson and Jessica Alba!!!] and V for Vendetta) were a refreshing change and examples of not everything needing to be based on recognisable superheroes.
• The Servants' Cells would feature in both Sin City's trailer and in a scene from The Transporter 2. Fortunately, they're both of the instrumental version and not the one with the horrible singing.
• The passage of time has made me more accepting of Eli Roth's very early work. Additionally, film critic David Edelstein would first coin the term torture porn when referring to Hostel in a New York Magazine article the following year.
• Count me in as one of the few persons on the planet who thinks Land of the Dead is George A. Romero's last great film. Great soundtrack, too:

Reinhold Heil & Johnny Klimek - To Canada

Land of the Dead (OST) | 2005

 

PACO DC · To Canada

Highest Rated Films of the 21st Century

When it comes to film reviews, Letterboxd is a reprehensible social platform for hive-minded narcissists. Not even worth posting a review there. But it does happen to be a useful site for grading and logging films when compiling miscellaneous lists. Handy for anyone running a film blog.

Here's a list of your humble curator's highest scoring films from the 21st century (minimum of ★★★★½ out of ★★★★★) logged onto Letterboxd:

American Psycho (Mary Harron, 2000)
Battle Royale (Kinji Fukasaku, 2000)
Sexy Beast (Jonathan Glazer, 2000)
Shadow of the Vampire (E. Elias Merhige, 2000)
Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001)
Training Day (Antoine Fuqua, 2001)
28 Days Later (Danny Boyle, 2002)
City of God (Fernando Meirelles, 2002)
Ju-on: The Grudge (Takashi Shimizu, 2002) 
Oldboy (Park Chan-wook, 2003)
Kill Bill: Volume 1 (Quentin Tarantino, 2003)
The Descent (Neil Marshall, 2005)
Apocalypto (Mel Gibson, 2006)
Children of Men (Alfonso Cuarón, 2006)
Pan's Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro, 2006)
[REC] (Jaume Balagueró & Paco Plaza, 2007)
Hot Fuzz (Edgar Wright, 2007)
Love Exposure (Sion Sono, 2008)
Bronson (Nicolas Winding Refn, 2008)
Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson, 2008)
Martyrs (Pascal Laugier, 2008)
Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call – New Orleans (Werner Herzog, 2009)
The House of the Devil (Ti West, 2009)
Triangle (Christopher Smith, 2009) 
13 Assassins (Takashi Miike, 2010)
Black Swan (Darren Aronofsky, 2010)
I Saw the Devil (Kim Jee-woon, 2010)
Troll Hunter (André Øvredal, 2010)
Toy Story 3 (Lee Unrich, 2010)
Drive (Nicolas Winding Refn, 2011)
The Raid (Gareth Evans, 2011)
The Skin I Live In (Pedro Almodóvar, 2011)
Berberian Sound Studio (Peter Strickland, 2012)
Dredd (Pete Travis & Alex Garland, 2012)
The Wolf of Wall Street (Martin Scorsese, 2013)
Under the Skin (Jonathan Glazer, 2013)
It Follows (David Robert Green, 2014)
The Raid 2 (Gareth Evans, 2014)
The Babadook (Jennifer Kent, 2014)
Mad Max: Fury Road (George Miller, 2015)
The Witch (Robert Eggers, 2015)
The Neon Demon (Nicolas Winding Refn, 2016)
Train to Busan (Yeon Sang-ho, 2016)
Brawl in Cell Block 99 (S. Craig Zahler, 2017)
The House That Jack Built (Lars Von Trier, 2018)
Hereditary (Ari Aster, 2018)
Mandy (Panos Cosmatos, 2018)
The Irishman (Martin Scorsese, 2019)
The Lighthouse (Robert Eggers, 2019)
Parasite (Bong Joon-ho, 2019)
Dinner in America (Adam Rehmeier, 2020)
Benedetta (Paul Verhoeven, 2021)
Mad God (Phil Tippett, 2021)
The Northman (Robert Eggers, 2022)
The Zone of Interest (Jonathan Glazer, 2023)

Dada Debaser Notes:

• For the record, I couldn't be arsed to include the ★★★★ movies as originally intended since it would have been 246 entries rather than the 55 above. Ain't nobody got time for that!
• Worked with release dates according to Letterboxd rather than when they came out in my region to avoid a massive headache.
• Most of the entries were rated prior to a six year hiatus from Letterboxd (from 2016 to 2022). The cool part is how their ratings are largely unchanged.
• Unapologetic about the overall horror bias. 
• Some critically revered films that didn't make the cut were either rated lower than the minimum requirement, or were just shite. Make your own damned list if you don't see picks you expected!
  

Jez the Two of Us

Can you believe it's exactly twenty years to the day when the cult classic British sitcom Peep Show (2003 - 2015) first aired on British TV?  To the unintitated, the series focused on the lives of two former university friends sharing a flat in South London. The pair: Mark Corrigan (David Mitchell) and Jeremy "Jez" Usborne (Robert Webb) would often provide access to their intimate thoughts and opinions via offscreen internal monologues and POV shots from their eyes to the audience. This would in turn amplify all the awkward and cringeworthy scenarios in the lives of its two losers. This pathetic odd couple, nicknamed the El Dude brothers, would also share their true contempt with each other on a regular basis.

It wasn't enough that Peep Show would contain two iconic morons like Mark and Jez, it also boasted a veritable rogues' gallery of halfwits, nutjobs and other losers. Legendary supporting characters would include: Super Hans (Matt King) - Jez's best drug addicted mate and fellow band member; and Alan Johnson (Paterson Joseph) - the Gordon Gekko style senior loan manager at Mark's place of employment, JLB Credit. Both of whom deserving enough to have their own spin-off shows, in my humble opinion.

Ten Personal Highlights from Peep Show:

"There Ain't No Party Like a Super Hans Party!"

Gog Being Threatened

"The Last Beamer Out of Saigon"

Jez Eats a Dog

Johnson's Indecent Proposal

Jez and Mark #MeToo Matt

Mark's Pooing

"People like Cold Play and voted for the Nazis!"

Rainbow Rhythms

 Ballet Shoes, Squarepusher CD & Whiz

Not sure which I find worse at this point in time: the current time on the Doomsday Clock, or the continued threat of a U.S remake of Peep Show being in the works. You can change the original theme to an American one, but Peep Show will always irrevocably be a British comedy and thus much of its core humour and its many nuances would be lost in translation; just like that horrible version of The Inbetweeners (2008 - 2010). Is nothing sacred?