Ben at Work

Man Bites Dog (Rémy Belvaux, André Bonzel & Benoît Poelvoorde, 1992)

From the country that has culturally enriched us with Jean-Claude Van Damme, the saxophone and mayonnaise on chips, Belgium’s dark comedy Man Bites Dog remains a significant work that has left a lasting impression upon the found footage format and the mockumentary film.

Originally called C’est arrivé près de chez vous (It Happened Near Your Home), Man Bites Dog is a disturbingly comedic treatment of a small film crew capturing a fly-on-the-wall documentary on serial killer Benoît Poelvoorde; better known as Ben. The film shines a satirical spotlight on Ben’s world; along with his heinous influence upon his documentarian entourage. As the film draws closer to Ben, the distinction between the subject matter and his observers becomes increasingly blurred. The film crew become complicit in the crimes; while Ben becomes even more involved in the documentary, by becoming its producer.

While chronicling Ben's crimes, the film also depicts the more tender side to him; showcasing his relationships with family and friends. Ben proves to be a charismatic individual with a penchant for the fine arts, philosophy and boxing. Like all murderous psychopaths, Ben feigns empathy, sympathy and respect for most people. In the film, it's used for comedic effect. While lamenting over his latest victim, he confesses to burying two Arabs nearby; facing Mecca.

Shot in 16mm black and white, Man Bites Dog mixes cinéma vérité with the snuff film. The film’s gritty and raw look compliments its theme perfectly. Plus, many of the actors use their real names, which adds to the film’s sense of realism. Scenes with Ben’s family are his actual family; unaware of the type of film they are starring in.

Following the murder of a female passenger on a train at the beginning, the film shifts to Ben preparing to dispose of a corpse into a canal. Ben’s candidness towards Rémy Belvaux’s film crew, where he shares his expertise in dead body disposal, establishes the film’s underlying tone and twisted sense of humour.

Benoît Poelvoorde: There’s a ballast ratio for corpses: Three times body weight
for an average adult like this victim. But for children and midgets, it's different. Kids are lighter. So, it's four times body weight. What?

Rémy Belvaux: Never had problems?                   

Benoît Poelvoorde: No. Midgets are heavier, so you double the weight. Midgets have denser bones, so you double the weight. For old people, multiply by five. Old bones are porous.

As well as murder being his living, Ben takes pride in the innovative methods he employs in extinguishing the very life of his victims. After being invited into an elderly woman’s apartment, he discovers a box of heart medication on her coffee table. He induces a heart attack by shouting in her ear. As she succumbs to shock, he derives satisfaction from not having to waste a bullet on “Granny Snuff”.

Ben places a greater priority on the elimination of the elderly population as they typically possess greater financial resources than younger individuals. But he doesn’t alway adhere to his code of murder. Ben commits a home invasion in a well-to-do suburb; killing a married couple and their young son. This was to prove to his accomplice film crew that he is capable of being amongst the most notorious serial killers in history.

The central theme of Man Bites Dog is the gradual complicity of a group of impoverished student filmmakers in killer Ben’s sickening crimes. Initially subtle, their involvement escalates from assisting with the disposal of a corpse, using their equipment to track a person, and ultimately, gang-raping a woman before mutilating her and her husband. This shocking turn of events turns this twisted comedy into a sobering depiction of evil. The film can be interpreted as a commentary on the media’s impact on society. It questions the point at which impartiality is abandoned and the extent to which the media is willing to compromise its principles given the circumstances. However, an archive interview with its directors suggests that Man Bites Dog is intended to be a meta-film on film making rather than media as a whole. The scene in which Ben and company encounter another film crew also following a killer is an obvious example, and down right hilarious. It is likely that this inspired a similar scene from Shaun of the Dead (2004).

Man Bites Dog is a remarkable mockumentary that bridges the gap between This Is Spinal Tap (1984) and The Blair Witch Project (1999); in terms of genres and technical execution. It stands out in the genre for its ability to elicit laughter while simultaneously evoking a sense of moral revulsion. This dual effect is a rare achievement, particularly for a film that appeals to a desensitised audience. Consequently, it is highly recommended for viewers who are not easily offended by its disturbing scenes.

Along with being available on a far too expensive Australian Blu-Ray, you can watch Man Bites Dog for free on YouTube.

Reflection of Lydia Deetz

Mirror Mirror (Marina Sargenti, 1990)

Those connoisseurs of trash cinema over at Bleeding Skull compiled a list of their favourite indie horror films directed by women recently. The inclusion of Marina Sargenti's Mirror Mirror (1990) piqued my interest the most. Teen angst films, particularly those of the horror genre, serve as an allegory for the wider world. Consequently, celebrated horror films such as Carrie, Halloween and Scream continue to resonate today. Mirror Mirror is another teen angst horror which caught me unaware and impressed me.

The film opens with a sepia-filtered house in 1950s Iowa. In one room, Elizabeth Weatherfield is brutally murdered by her sister, Mary, in front of a large mirror. The narrative then shifts to the present day where Megan Good (Rainbow Harvest) and her widowed mother, Susan (Karen Black), move into the house of horror. Unbeknownst to Megan, the ornate furniture in her new bedroom is a demonic mirror with supernatural powers.

Let's discuss the elephant in the room: Rainbow Harvest (with a name like that, her parents must have been hippies) is the mirror image (pun intended) of Winona Ryder. The resemblance is beyond uncanny. Obviously, the director of the film, Marina Sargenti, realised this having her star dressed like Winona's most iconic goth character, Lydia Deetz from Beetlejuice (1988). Speaking of the Tim Burton classic, in a scene where Megan, Susan, and her new fella Mr. Veze (a pony-tailed William Sanderson), are dining on fried chicken, you're almost expecting them to burst into a possessed song and dance of Harry Belafonte's Day-O. Mr. Veze correlating visions of maggots on his chicken drumstick to a Vietnam flash back, is still entertaining, regardless.

The newcomer being a blight to the ignorant locals is a familiar cinematic trope. Therefore, it's unsurprising that the reserved goth is subjected to ridicule at her new high school. Her appearance attracts the mockery of the school’s bully queen Charleen Kane (Charlie Spradling) and her big haired, shoulder padded clique. One of the teachers, Mr Anderson (Stephen Tobolowsky), also exhibits unjustified hostility towards the new student. 

Fortunately, Nikki Chandler (Kristin Datillo), a likeable student who is running for class president against Charleen, befriends the outcast. Much to the dismay of Nikki's boyfriend, Ron (Ricky Paull Goldin), who finds Megan's behaviour becoming increasingly disturbing, the pair become inseparable.

The high school scenes draw inspiration from another film starring Winona Ryder - Heathers (1989). Replace Christian Slater's teen psychopath J.D. with a free-standing, demonic mirror and that's essentially Mirror Mirror in a nutshell; which explains my appreciation for this film.

The mirror's demonic powers grow more nerfarious throughout the course of the film. At first, it's the family pooch being found bloody and dead in the house, by Susan. Bizarrely, she places the dead pooch on the kitchen counter. Even Megan questions her mother's action. This is immediately followed by the apparition of Megan's dead father in her bedroom. As they hug in the darkness, she screams at her father's horribly, disfigured face.

A notable scene is set in the school cafeteria. From across the tables Charleen and her companions laugh at the new student, with the exception of her boyfriend Jeff (Tom Bresnahan), who is exasperated by her pettiness. Evidently, the demonic mirror is also annoyed. Blood drips down the glass object simultaneously with Charleen’s epic nosebleed.

Yvonne De Carlo plays Emelin, an employee of the leasing agent letting out the Weatherfield house. She discovers a book revealing the significance of the mirror and its dark history. The character is the film’s equivalent of Dr. Loomis. 

The kills are unexpectedly vicious, in what initially comes across as a fairly derivative and safe teen horror. The expected demise of Charleen is particularly nasty. The bully is scolded to death from the pipes above her in the school showers. Her death is intercut with her classmates playing in the swimming pool. The aftermath has Megan congratulating Nikki that she is the new class president since her rival has died. Tact isn't exactly Megan's strong point.

Ron is murdered in the bath by an evil mimic of his second love, Nikki. Not before serving up an epic sandwich. The irony of him saying "Oh, ladies and gentlemen! May I say, at this time, I may die a very happy man?" when sampling his culinary creation is not lost. The tragedy of it all being the poor lad never got to finish his snack.

Susan succumbs to the dreaded hand stuck in the garbage disposal. It may be a well worn cliché, but it's still a tense scene as the gruesome situation unfolds. Why on earth anyone would even consider installing such a dangerous contraption in their home?. It does make for great horror inside a kitchen, however.

Apart from the aforementioned films starring Winona Ryder, Mirror Mirror also bears some similarity to Christine (1983) in terms of its protagonist. Megan’s obsession with the mirror is strikingly reminiscent of Arnie Cunningham falling under the spell of his blood-red Plymouth Fury. While possession from a demonic force is not exclusive to both films, Mirror Mirror evokes John Carpenter’s effort with how it unravels over the course of the film. Elements of Hellraiser (1987) are also evident with its finale set inside the Weatherfield house. The score changing to a more orchestral sounds are evocative of Christopher Young's soundtrack for the film.

Based on a screenplay by Annette and Gina Gascone, the creators of the Deadtime Stories children books, Mirror Mirror is anything but a kid-friendly horror film; despite its early impression of a Young Adult story. It's considered something of a spiritual predecessor to Fisher Price horror, The Craft (1996), a beloved favourite for goth posers, ageing Tumblrinas, and Letterboxd Wiccans. However, Mirror Mirror operates without a safety net, making it a far edgier and mean-spirited offering than its sterile, coven-themed successor. The fact that it has the look and feel of a STV film, also caught me off guard. I assumed this would be some early '90s slop, fortunately that wasn't the case.

Amazingly, Mirror Mirror spawned three sequels. Which makes me even more disappointed with myself; unaware of another film franchise like the Vice Academy hexalogy, until quite recently.

You can watch this largely forgotten horror for free on YouTube.

No Flesh Shall Be Spared

Hardware (Richard Stanley, 1990)

2000AD was a weekly comic I would read throughout most of the 1980s and early 1990s. It was a font of creative talent exemplifying the comic book renaissance at the time; some of that talent, would be poached by the Big Two (Marvel and D.C.) and eventually see their works adapted into film.

It's no big secret that Paul Verhoeven's sci-fi classic, Robocop (1987), took blatant inspiration from 2000AD's flagship lawman Judge Dredd during its pre-production.

Similarly, writer and director Richard Stanley tapped into the Dreddverse with his debut feature film Hardware (1990). Evidently, Fleetway Publications, the owner of 2000AD, thought Stanley's film was doing more than just taking inspiration and successfully won a copyright case against it. Despite Stanley denying he ever read, SHOK!, the seven page story which first appeared in the 1981 Judge Dredd annual. Thus, SHOK!'s creators, Steve MacManus and Kevin O'Neill, were credited subsequent prints of the film.

Hardware is set in a dystopian future ravaged by atomic warfare. Nomads scavenge for scrap in an irradiated wasteland. Ex marine, Hard Mo' Baxter (Dylan McDermott), acquires a robot skull from one particular nomad. He gifts it to his sculptor girlfriend Jill (Stacey Travis) upon his long return home as a Christmas present. (Yes, it's a Christmas movie!) However, both Mo' and Jill are unaware that the skull is part of a deadly M.A.R.K. 13 robot capable of resourcing power, reassembling itself and delivering a fatal toxin. Furthermore, it is later revealed that the M.A.R.K. 13 was programmed by the government to reduce the human population.

The mise-en-scène is central to Richard Stanley’s vision, with the plot serving as secondary.  Dystopian cyberpunk imagery is prevalent. Future tech, metallic junk and urban rubble are everywhere. Computer generated wire-mesh visuals rotate on crummy monitors. Steam is ejected from unknown vents. And colourful lights cast Bava-esque beauty on metallic surfaces. Hardware is an unapologetic film that's all about style over substance. 

This is a nightmarish future. A stark example of the grim state of the human race is a child tied to its deceased mother on a forgotten apartment level. Furthermore, nonchalant media announcements for enforced sterilisations commencing in the New Year are chilling.

The performances are mixed. Stacey Travis and Dylan McDermott are great as the leads, maintaining professional composure throughout Richard Stanley’s avant-garde direction. They do their best with the material that they have available. John Lynch’s character Shades, is both shallow and superfluous. This is largely due to the character’s flat profile rather than Lynch's performance. Additionally, his Ray Bans and aviator jacket would have been more suited on a background extra in Top Gun than here. The character's solo scene, in which he appears high in his apartment, adds nothing to the film and is a time waster.

Mark Nothover plays Alvy, a dwarf junkyard trader whose voice appears to have been dubbed by an American actor. Despite his limited screen time Alvy’s role is more integral to the film than Shades and genuinely serves a purpose. The merchant is the one who discovers how dangerous the M.A.R.K. 13 is; adding urgency to the mix.

William Hootkins, best known for his role as fat X-Wing pilot Jak Porkins in Star Wars, plays Jill’s stalker neighbour. He is memorable as an odious pervert and for his bizarre singing of They All Walk the Wibbly-Wobbly Walk . You’re just praying for him to die horribly.

Given Richard Stanley’s background as a music director (credited for directing Superfly Guy by S-Express and Blue Pearl’s Naked in the Rain), he features several musicians in his film. The aforementioned nomad is played by Carl McCoy of Fields of the Nephilim, while Lemmy of Motörhead is a water taxi driver, crossing a polluted river with Ace of Spades playing on his stereo. However, the most memorable cameo is Iggy Pop as the off-screen DJ Angry Bob, whose over-the-top performance is notably quote-worthy::

"This is Angry Bob, the man with the industrial dick. Coming at you loud and clear on W.A.R. Radio. Rise and shine, folks! It's a beautiful day! Just look at that sky; it's a work of art. Huh! Nature never knew colours like that. And a friendly reminder: when you look at it, be sure to wear your shades! The radiation count's way up in the heatwave and ain't expected to let up, either. Weather Control tell us it'll probably hit 110 down town, before nightfall. As for the good news: there is no fucking good news! So let's rock with one of our golden oldies" - Angry Bob

Elsewhere, Public Image Ltd’s The Order of Death is prominently featured in the film. Soundtrack composer Simon Boswell provides an original score, consisting of loud industrial  and brash synthesisers. It may be considered intrusive by some, but complements the film’s high tech and junkyard metal aesthetic.

The film’s premise, a woman confined to her apartment with a killer robot, may evoke moments from other science fiction films such as Saturn 3 (1980) and The Terminator (1984), but Richard Stanley seems to forgo all that for much of Hardware's run time and spend most of it on the cool cyberpunk world he's realised. Admirable as that might sound, it does come at the expense of a very long wait for some slasher style action. At least forty minutes have to pass by before the M.A.R.K. 13 begins its murderous rampage. 

An example of Stanley's avant-garde approach is the surreal sequence involving the deadly toxin running through the veins of one character. A hallucinatory M.A.R.K. 13 appears like a dance artist on Top of the Pops, followed with acid trip style spiral patterns. Dramatic opera music soundtracks the fatal psychedelic experience.

Hardware did not resonate with me, initially. Despite its connection to my teenage interests at the time, its unorthodox style was too ostentatious for my liking. However, the film has grown on me considerably since then; largely due to its technical merits being so accomplished on a shoe-string budget (less than £1M, believe it or not). It retains a remarkable cyberpunk aesthetic that is both stunning and more stylish than numerous bigger budgeted studio efforts. 

Although not an easy recommendation, it is definitely worth checking out for any sci-fi film enthusiast and fan of cult cinema. Better than Alphaville, that's for sure.

Merry Christmas!

Moggy Cheung

The Cat (Lam Nai-Choi, 1992)

Hong Kong cinema is often characterised by its eccentricity and unconventional style, drastically  distinguishing it from Hollywood. Consequently, its genre output attracts international audiences with a taste for insane content. My first exposure to Lam Nai-Choi’s work was his unofficial adaption of the popular manga, Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky (1992). Set in a sadistic prison, the film’s excessive violence and gore made it a splatterfest classic comparable to Peter Jackson’s Braindead also released that year. Regrettably, I remained unfamiliar with Nai-Choi’s other films until they became more available relatively recently. Produced directly after his magnum opus, The Cat (AKA The 1000 Years Cat, 1992) is a surreal sci-fi horror that achieves almost the same heights; a feat in itself, considering how much Riki-Oh is an incredibly tough act to follow.

Sourced from the popular series of books written by Ni Kuang, concerning the paranormal/science fiction novelist Wisely, played by Waise Lee (seriously!) in the film. The Cat is an adaptation of The Old Cat. The film revolves around three extraterrestrials stranded on Earth: one, a young woman named Princess (Gloria Yip); her elderly bodyguard, Errol (Lau Siu-Ming); and a black cat known as the General, who are after an artefact which will aid them to defeat a powerful enemy and help them return home.

The plot is largely secondary to the film’s visual spectacle, which is just as well as the original director assigned to direct The Cat constantly demanded for script changes, as revealed by screen writer Gordon Chan in an interview in the 88 Films' Blu-ray release. Amusingly, once Nai-Choi was hired to direct the picture, he wasn't in the least bit bothered about the screenplay. For those familiar with 1980s cult sci-fi classics The Thing, The Terminator, The Hidden, and The Blob you will no doubt spot their inspirations on the film. A gun deal involving the possessed Wang Chieh-Mei (Phillip Kwok) unfolds in a manner that is reminiscent of the scene where Arnold Schwarzenegger's killer cyborg is tooling up in a gun shop.

Aside from the melting pot of obvious influences, the film also exhibits unusual tonal shifts. While The Cat primarily qualifies as a science fiction horror film due to its subject matter, gory violence and special effects, it occasionally resembles a Saturday morning children’s show in relation to its peculiar sense of wonder and naivety. Conversely, some scenes featuring Wisely and his girlfriend Pai So (Christine Ng) are shot in a manner reminiscent of an erotic film. Wisely is portrayed as intensely horny around his partner, while the camera focuses on Pai So’s perspiring body. The gratuitous close-ups are predictably jarring from the rest of the film.

The pièce de résistance is an epic junkyard brawl between the titular character and a dog. The sheer absurdity of the fight is difficult to describe, but the sight of a cat performing a suplex on a dog is a sight for the eyes and one that won't be forgotten easily. This was all achieved before the advent of computer-aided effects, with much of the grandiose battle executed using hand puppets, stop-motion animation and practical effects. It is undoubtedly one of the most ludicrous fights I involving domestic animals I have ever witnessed. Incredible.

Nai-Choi’s film does not merely culminate in a single impressive fight sequence; it merely set a precedent for the remainder of the film. A particular highlight is the alien antagonist, still possessing Wang Chieh-Mei’s body, conducting bullet-ridden destruction upon Wisely’s home. The scene is characterised by a distillery's worth of vodka stored in the premises used as Molotov cocktails, which burn with napalm-like intensity. You know you aren't watching a Hollywood film when one of its main cast members is doused in flame retardant and performing their own stunts amongst all the fire and carnage. Then again, how many of Hollywood's thespians are like Phillip Kwok, serving as a stunt co-ordinator on their film?

The alien antagonist undergoes transforms into an even more monstrous entity once the General is revitalised by a beam of light from its home world. Simultaneously, the antagonist attacks diners in a canteen with appendages reminiscent of the creature from The Thing. The practical effects are remarkably well executed and evoke a sense of nostalgia for an era when computer-generated visual effects were not so prevalent. Ultimately, the extraterrestrial villain smothers the entire building when it assumes the form of a colossal, gelatinous mass. This is what I live for.

According to Asian film expert Frank Djeng, the villain was an analogical representation of  Britain's handover of Hong Kong to China. Thus, the scenes where Philip Kwok acquisition of black market Chinese Army weapons, along with him manifesting into a giant, red amalgamated monster, depicts the fears and woes of Hong Kong's citizens. You would never know it, unless someone told you. As an ignorant foreigner, I just assumed it was all inspired by some of Hollywood's greatest sci-fi horror films from the 1980s. 

Interestingly, a Japanese version of the film titled Nine Lives was produced concurrently using some of the same cast, sets and effects. The differences between the two films are numerous but the use of an alternative director and Japanese actor Hidekazu Akai as the lead are the most significant. Admittedly, I have not yet seen the Japanese version but further details regarding the changes between the two films are listed on this website.

 

The Cat is an amazingly eccentric film that should appeal to anyone with an interest in unconventional and whimsical films from around the world. Its influences are evident yet it instils its own brand of bizarre entertainment; making it a unique viewing experience. The fact that Lam Nai-Choi chose to retire from the film industry after helming The Cat is noteworthy, as it's a magnificent mic drop for any director. 

 

Lovers of psychotronic cinema will dig this.

Up to Snuff

Tesis (Alejandro Amenábar, 1996)

Video cassettes spawned a new way in how we watched films. Gone was the ritualistic process of having to find out what the local screenings were in advance; along with the potential of a film being ruined by a bunch of annoying twats sat in the auditorium. Video brought convenience to the masses. The ability to pause and rewind a specific scene gave us the ability to analyse with more scrutiny. It also opened a proverbial pandora's box. Mature content, bereft of a video classification, became more accessible to minors with lax parents; including theatrically rejected titles finding a new lease of life on video cassette. It would lead to the infamous Video Nasty hysteria. More importantly, it would usher in a new generation of extreme horror aficionados as well as a general desensitisation as whole in how society sees violence. This is the main backbone to Alejandro Amenábar debut thriller Tesis (AKA Thesis, 1996).

Ángela Márquez (Ana Torrent), a student at the Complutense University of Madrid, is researching the effects of audiovisual violence upon society for her thesis. She's introduced in Amenábar's film onboard a stationary train. Along with her fellow passengers, she's made to alight from the transport, as a person had thrown themselves in front of the tracks. With morbid curiosity, she scrambles to get a peak at the gory mess. An official guides her away from the gruesome sight. Ángela's ghoulish interest is also evident when she asks her tutor, Professor Figueroa (Miguel Picazo), to lend her some dodgy tapes from the university's video archives; for research purposes, of course. This begs the question: what kind of reputable educational establishment would have morally reprehensible content on its shelves? Ángela also enlists the help of weirdo student Chema (Fele Martinez), a loner known for having an appetite for extreme horror and pornographic films. 

The mystery unfolds once Ángela's professor stumbles upon a mysterious iron door in the archives and discovers a room with video tapes. Figueroa comes to an unfortunate end, when Ángela finds him dead in the screening room; apparently while watching the tape he retrieved from the archives. Whether or not foul play was at hand, remains ambiguous. However, given the professor's obese state and constant respiratory wheezing, he could have just as well popped his clogs whilst watching Mary Poppins (1964). Our protagonist grabs the tape and rushes back home, without reporting the professor's death to anyone.

Ángela attempts to watch the tape at home, but is too afraid of whatever horrors she will see. Instead, our protagonist records its sounds onto an audio cassette. Listening on her walkman, the chilling sounds of a girl being tortured are too much for her. Therefore, it's off to Chema's fly-tip of a hovel to get him to watch it and describe what's occurring on-screen while her back is turned. Whist her back is turned and Chema's grisly intrigue, the pair stumble upon the revelation that it's an actual snuff tape. To drive it closer to home, Chema recognises the victim as a former university student who disappeared a couple of years prior. Thus, much like that all too familiar giallo trope, Ángela and Chema become unwitting amateur sleuths in a film laden with curveballs and misdirections to sate fans of Hitchcock style thrillers and Italian gialli.

Apart from its dark plot, heightened tensions and palpable suspense, what really drives Tesis forward is how well written the characters are. Ángela and Chema are like oil and water. At first, our heroine is like a moth to a flame in her morbid curiosity. She can barely watch the horrors which draw her, but she gradually is able to face it once she spends more time with Chema. A similar transformation happens to her sidekick. He becomes much warmer to Ángela, once she realised, much of his obnoxiousness and edge lord behaviour is more or less a personal shield in dealing with the outside world. Ought to add, despite living in absolute filth, Chema is right up there Mark Petrie, Tommy Jarvis and Charley Brewster as great fictional horror aficionados. Chema unashamedly wearing a Cannibal Holocaust (1980) T-shirt to university and adorning posters of Shocker (1989) and Alien 3 (1992) in his grotty bathroom speak volumes to me. A stark contrast to Ángela's solitary film poster in her bedroom of My Own Private Idaho (1991). Which has me cheering for him to not to die, solve the mystery and get the girl, even if he does give off school shooter vibes.

 

Bad boy Bosco Herranz (Eduardo Noriega) enters the fray as another integral character in the film. He's spotted by Ángela operating the same model video camera linked with the recording of the snuff film. Equally damning, is his association with the victim from the tape. Looking like Spain's answer to Paul Walker (Pablo Caminante, if you will), Bozco has Ángela both swooning and terrified of him. A key sequence reveals Ángela's mental being, as she dreams of having sex with Bozco, before he stabs her. Worth mentioning, both Ángela's mother and sister are smitten when Bozco charms his way into their house. The complete chad to Chema's virgin. 

Despite the few instances which defy logic (the secret area behind the metallic door in the university's video archives, being the obvious one), a night club playing the most atrocious euro techno music, and being around fifteen minutes too long, there's a lot I like about Alejandro Amenábar's thriller. Abundant plot twists and a number of red herrings, make it constantly engaging. It's all the more impressive once you realise this is incredibly low budget, written and helmed by a twenty three year old film graduate shooting at his university, and more importantly, more enjoyable than Mute Witness (1995) and 8mm (1999), two other Hitchcockian style thrillers from around that era, also themed around snuff films.

Tesis swept up all the major Goya awards (Spain's answer to the Oscars) in 1997. Alejandro Amenábar would follow-up its success with his science fiction drama Open Your Eyes (1997). He would cast both Martinez and Noriega again, alongside the gorgeous Penelope Cruz. It would get the American remake treatment, retitled to Vanilla Sky (2001) and starring action movie midget Tom Cruise. The remake would also feature Penelope Cruz reprising her role. Amenábar would also deliver The Others (2001), a fantastic supernatural chiller with Cruise's other half at the time, Nicole Kidman. No idea what Amenábar is churning out today, but I can confidently claim, he came out of the gate running with his impressive talent as both a writer and director. Tesis is superb mystery thriller.

Here's a currently working YouTube link of Tesis. Not sure how long it will remain, though,

Murder in Mind

Cure (Kiyoshi Kurosawa, 1997)

The success of Jonathan Demme's The Silence of the Lambs (1991) set off a particular wave of psychological crime thrillers in the Nineties. The protagonists were often characterised with a mental hang up, such as a crippling trauma which needed to be overcome in order to finally take down the film's monstrous antagonist. These films were less action orientated and more adjacent to the horror genre. A major selling point was the killer's twisted methodology and his grotesque crimes. Kiyoshi Kurosawa's slow burner Cure (1997) is a stellar entry in this scene. The selling point being the killer supplanting  murder into the mind of others via his power of suggestion.

Tokyo detective Kenichi Takabe (Kōji Hashimoto) is tasked with investigating a string of murders which have plagued the city. The crimes are perpetrated by seemingly random people, who subsequently slash the carotid arteries, leaving a carved ‘X' on the victims’ necks. These actions are barely remembered by their assailants after they're caught. With the aid of Shin Sakuma (Tsuyoshi Ujiki), a hospital psychiatrist, the investigative pair make some headway discovering the random killings are brought upon by a hypnotist. The cool and calm Takabe also has to deal with his wife Fumie (Anna Nagakawa) succumbing to a deteriorating mental disorder. Both the case and his wife's illness are taking an immense toll on the detective.

As for Cure's heinous antagonist, Kunio Mamiya (Hasato Hagiwara), the dishevelled and mousy looking individual is introduced early in the film. A lost man on the beach, appearing to be suffering from amnesia when meeting his latest victim. With the aid of his lighter or spilt water, the drop out psychology student manages to hypnotise his prey before moving on. Thus, turning these random individuals who have had the misfortune in conversing with him into unwitting killers.

Despite some bloody scenes, Cure doesn't focus too long on the killings. Instead, it's the disturbing and uneasy build-up to these crimes which Kurosawa excels in capturing on film. One scene in particular, set outside a police box, shows the chilling act of a police officer gunning down his colleague so matter of factly. This is all filmed in daylight with one fixed point of view from a medium distance. The affect of which makes the whole scenario all the more disturbing, as it looks so mundane.

Cure possesses heaps of foreboding atmosphere thanks to an excellent combination of Tokushô Kikumura's gloomy and distant cinematography and a sound department able to make the drone of a tumble dryer sound oppressively frightening. Although preceding the J-horror boom by a couple of years, Cure's palpable atmosphere and pallid colour palette are arguably influential to the scene. The dark and flat visuals are pitch perfect with its subject matter. The production design of the various interior locations range from squalid, to urban hellholes. Thus, Cure shares some obvious common elements with David Fincher's Se7en (1995) not only with its premise.

Kurosawa has a great handle on showcasing Mamiya's power over others, not just with his hypnotic powers. The diminutive amnesiac can command a room with his sheer presence. A great example is the power struggle between him and Takabe in a darkly lit hospital room. During their scene, the antagonist manages to turn the tables as to has the greatest stature and command of the room. The camera composition frames the detective as the sick patient, while Mamiya slyly becomes the authoritarian figure.

Kind of shocked that Kiyoshi Kurosawa, a director associated with churning out low budget V-Cinema (Japan's straight-to-video) films like Door III (1996), managed to craft a gem of a cinematic thriller somewhere in between. Cure would be his belated break out success in international circles. The director would subsequently deliver the acclaimed, apocalyptic J-horror Pulse (2001), containing a similar look and under your skin vibe to Cure. A good film, but it's not one that I rate as highly compared to Cure; malevolent spirts from the internet don't exactly have the same impact for me as a serial killer Kenny Craig supplanting murderous thoughts into people's minds.

Embarrassed to admit that Cure is a new discovery for me. It's the type of psychological thriller that develops in a rich and intelligent fashion, without unfolding like some hackneyed police procedural which is so common today. A slow burn shocker that's so palpable, that it lingers on well after the closing credits; especially after that final scene. If you've seen it, then you know what I'm referring to. 

Highly recommended.