Toronto After Dark 2008 Festival Preview Trailer featuring scenes from the *first eight announced feature titles
* Repo! The Genetic Opera, Red , Let The Right One In , Idiots and Angels, Tokyo Gore Police, Mirageman, Trailer Park Of Terror , Who is KK Downey?
www.torontoafterdark.com
Troubled mathematical genius, Maximillian Cohen (Sean Gullette) is on the brink of what he believes could be a major discovery; a numerical key to formulate a pattern from seemingly random occurrences. His intention is to apply his findings to the stockmarket but some Jewish fanatics have other ideas.
Many people will by now be familiar with the work of talented director Darren Aronofsky via the stylised but honest drug film, Requiem for a Dream, which has gathered steady acclaim through word of mouth since its release in 2000. Less well known is his first feature length film, Pi, released 2 years earlier. Though less polished and well rounded than Requiem, Pi is an incredible first feature showing Aronofsky’s great talent for presenting an insular nightmare which is expanded to even greater effect in the later and better known film. At a mere 80 minutes and coming in on a borrowed budget of just $60,000, Pi won the Directors award at Sundance in the year of its release and heralded the move from promising student to world-renowned talent.
“When I was a little kid, my mother told me not to stare into the sun, so once when I was six I did.” So says Max as we see him unconscious on the floor with a bloody nose, the result of one of his frequent and debilitating migraines. It is unclear as to whether such brilliance was the cause of such brilliance but the relationship between nature and mathematics is one which fascinates our protagonist, believing as he does that everything in nature can be explained through numbers, that nothing is random.
Under the watchful supervision of mentor Sol (Mark Margolis) Max is on a mission to unlock a numerical key which he believes could help him crack the stockmarket. With an almost monstrous computer spread around the room, he obsessively eyes the figure of the market in line with his predictions. However, the content of his head is a much desired thing and he is pursued threateningly by Marcy Dawson (Pamela Hart) and not so threateningly, at least to begin with, by Lenny Meyer (Ben Shenkman,) each for their own ends. Marcy is similarly interested in the stockmarket angle but Lenny's need is devoutly based in his religious faith, Kabbalah.
Filmed in scratchy, grainy, high-contrast black and white with a drum and bass soundtrack and ominous score, Pi is audibly and visually like an intellectual nightmare, which is, in effect, just what it is. Though it has roots in the thriller genre as he is oppressively tracked by Marcy and increasingly so by Lenny, it is his inner turmoil, his agony and the weight of knowing something so huge that is really the subject of this film. It is his obsession with a 216 digit number which may ‘just be a number’ or may be the answer to literally everything; the stockmarket, computer ‘consciousness’ or, as Lenny believes, the name of God in numerical form. It is the latter which fuses perfectly the idea of nature and chaos as opposed to structured predictability as Max, a non-practicing Jew, is forced to reassess his ‘faith in chaos.’
With a fascinating and increasingly and frighteningly plausible plot, inspired and nightmarish visuals, Darren Aronofsky's glimpse into the psyche of a genious is both style and content.
A group of five criminals break into a warehouse at night and tie up the two watchmen so they can steal a truck load of laptop computers. Meanwhile the notorious head of an Albanian crime group is being transported to Strasburg on charges including the slavery and forced prostitution of young girls and women. When the security forces transporting him are ambushed and most are killed by members of his Albanian mob, the remaining members make a break for it and hold up in the same warehouse which is the scene of the heist. Surrounded by psychopathic gang members intent on freeing their boss those inside the warehouse must set aside their differences and unite if they are to have any chance at all of surviving the night.
The nest is the second feature film directed by Florent Emilio Siri who has since gone on to direct Bruce Willis in the Hollywood blockbuster Hostage. His first being Une minute de silence (Not a film I have seen) and he has also directed two of the video game series Splinter Cell based on Tom Clancy's characters. Making its French debut in 2002 hype has been slow building for this one, with the Internet playing as it often does a role in getting people to take notice. Thus it finally got its release in English speaking regions. Amongst the films ensemble cast the most recognisable face (To non French audiences anyway) is probably that of Samy Naceri who plays maniac behind the wheel Daniel in the highly successful Taxi series of movies and also stared in overlooked but enjoyable French gangster film La Mentale AKA The Code.
The French seem to have a knack for making these quality action films that match and in many cases surpass their Hollywood counterparts on a fraction of the budget. The Nest is basically an unofficial remake of John Carpenters Assault on Precinct 13 and before anyone starts I know that was a remake of Rio Bravo, but lets face it, Assault is the movie being remade / homaged / re-imagined or what ever the hell the current trendy phrase is for using some one else's ideas in your film. Now I have not seen the official Assault remake so I can’t really pass judgement although most people are of the opinion its crap (You can say crap when you’re just an Internet reviewer and not a paid scribe). Still I doubt the "Official" remake will touch this, as this is tonnes of fun something that seems to be lacking from mainstream Hollywood action films at the moment. The Nest looks great, is well lit, well edited, well shot and well directed. The actors all give top performances that suit this kind of flamboyant gun-play movie and nobody really hogs the limelight meaning this really works as an ensemble piece and not as is the current trend across the ocean as a star vehicle. Not a match in terms of cult grittiness for John Carpenters Assault on precinct 13, but then that was a film very much of it's time and budget, if this had been labelled as a remake it would however have been a worthy one. Different and fresh enough to be a great film in its own right but retaining some (not all) of the key elements that made that film such a classic.
The way the different characters interact is handled well as they try and put aside their differences to pursue the common goal of not being dead. The bonds between the criminals and the main three French security force members are well constructed with quick but well acted scenes highlighting certain friendships, which mean you believe they care about each other as the film progresses. At one point the two main male members of the heist gang hold hands and matching tattoos of north and south can be seen on there hands which a nice touch. The female roles are good here with actresses who while attractive do actually look as if they can kick some ass and so you are not asked to step outside of realty as some skinny bimbo beats down tough male opponents. The warehouse location for what is basically a siege movie is used to its full effect as the Albanians move ever closer the more claustrophobic the space becomes and the more foreboding it seems. The gang members all where light intensifying masks which give them the look of wasps (the film starts with a wasp documentary on TV). This is a great idea making them a faceless enemy that just like wasps attack without fear and in large numbers. The Albanian Boss is suitably played and is a convincing piece of work and in effect becomes the wasps queen which they seek to defend. The fact that the cops look at pictures of the women his organisation held as prostitutes who have numbers branded on their backs like cattle certainly adds to the menace of the main bad guy.
Packed with great scenes, excellent characters, big guns and wave after wave of deadly wasp looking Albanian mobsters to be gunned down The Nest is a great example of quality French action cinema.
I rather like this UK quad poster for the Liam Neeson thriller Taken. The trailer looks brilliant to. I normally don't attend any preview screenings, but I have an invite for this and I might actually make the effort to go.
Following the successful and critically acclaimed release last year of "Grindhouse Trailer Classics", Nucleus Films has managed to unearth a much-welcomed second batch of the craziest examples of cinematic sex, gore and violence ever to spill on to the screen.
Once again compiled by genre movie expert Marc Morris (co-author of Shock! Horror! Astounding Artwork from the Video Nasty Era), along with the assistance of director Jake West (Doghouse; Pumpkinhead: Ashes To Ashes; Evil Aliens; Razor Blade Smile), Grindhouse Trailer Classics 2 delivers a brand new selection of hand-picked trailers for the 1960s and 1970s cult movies that have inspired and informed the works of a whole generation of contemporary directors, including the likes of Quentin Tarantino (Death Proof), Robert Rodriguez (Planet Terror), Eli Roth (Hostel) and Rob Zombie (The Devil's Rejects).
Among the disturbing delights this time around are such cinematic gems as The Black Gestapo, The Depraved, Bloody Pit Of Horror, The Pink Angels, Foxy Brown and many more.
When Andrew Jarecki undertook to make a documentary on New York’s most highly ranked children’s party entertainer, David Friedman, the story he uncovered was much deeper, darker, and more complex than he had bargained for. With the use of David’s own extensive home video footage, Jarecki pieces together the fragments of a family struggling to maintain a semblance of normality in the wake of a father and son’s arrests for child abuse.
Andrew Jarecki must have thought he’d struck documentary gold when his original idea gave way to a decidedly more sensitive and secretive subject and he’d certainly have been proved right when Capturing The Friedmans won the 2003 Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance film festival. His film concerns the Friedman family whose outwardly and, evidently, inwardly pleasant and unremarkable middle-class Jewish, peninsula-dwelling existence blew apart on Thanksgiving 1987 as police raided their home in search of child pornography. Events took a bizarre turn and father Arnold and son Jesse were both arrested for sexually abusing boys in their care, a community was rocked and the family, consisting also of mother Elaine and further sons David and Seth, had to cope in the fallout.
What is probably most striking about this film is the level of objectivity it maintains, particularly when you consider the sensitive and prevalent nature of paedophilia in the media, striking as it does terror into the heart of every decent parent and disgust to the pit of every good citizen’s stomach. However, Capturing The Friedmans isn’t really about the crime but the family in free fall in the wake of allegations so catastrophic the family is destined inevitably, as a unit at least, to never recover. As the film opens with nostalgic home video footage coupled with scrawls of each family members name, it’s clear where the focus of the documentary will be and that this family is about to be players in its own sorry story. It is David’s own footage from the eye of the storm that provides much of our (sometimes uncomfortably) frank insight into the downward spiral of a family in the wake of serious allegations. Jarecki skillfully weaves the escalating devastation by interspersing the footage with his own ‘factual’ accounts from professionals involved in the case, witnesses and the alleged abused.
If ever the old 'it's not black and white' cliches were applicable it’s surely here, as the dubious investigation and ‘evidence’ paints the Friedmans case with a very dubious palette of murky greys indeed. Between the contradictions of the testimonies and the blatant shortcomings of the investigation, there is little factual evidence to uphold the case. For the Friedmans part, their side of the matter is every bit as frustrating; with no definite denial of the charges they are not so much in denial as in a refusal to accept the situation, instead remaining in horrifically static limbo, awaiting their fate as we are left to witness at first-hand the upsetting change in family dynamic. As Jarecki manages an unusual level of objectivism replacing the usual sensationalism, there is scant factual basis on either side for the viewer to make a judgement. There seems very little to indicate eighteen year old Jesse is guilty of anything at all and of Arnold we can be sure of only two things; that he is a paedophile and that he was in possession of the child pornography which set off this remarkable chain of events. To what degree he is guilty of anything further, of the large-scale abuse of which he was accused, we cannot be sure. Though this is why, amongst an undoubted witch-hunt even Matthew Hopkins himself would have been proud to have orchestrated, that this documentary is so difficult on the viewer; because it asks us to make judgement in the light of what is not only an abhorrent crime but one more linked to social ostracism and media-panic than any other in our society at present. Yes, we all hate a paedophile don’t we? But how willing are we to pin blame where there quite possibly is none just because this person has a dark and secret love absolutely unacceptable to the rest of us? Does that make them an immediate danger to their own children and any in their neighborhood they may come across, be preying on? Well that folks is something you are going to have to answer for yourselves, as Jarecki certainly isn’t going to do it for you, and for that matter neither will the Friedmans. We all take to this experience our own beliefs, judgements and moral values on this devastating crime, but how willing are we to let them go and see only the facts?
Genuinely worthy of its critical esteem, Capturing The Friedmans is fascinating, emotionally heartbreaking and beautiful. Not only a poignant reminder of the shortfalls of the legal system, but also of the workings of society and community when the panic of modern-day witch-hunt strikes. Utterly captivating and equally tragic, this is very powerful stuff
Produced by Eric Névé (Dobermann) and directed by Frederic Schoendoerffer (director of the Monica Bellucci and Vincent Cassell thriller, Spy Bound), Paris Lockdown is one of the most graphically violent, sexually explicit and all-round shocking movies to come out of France since Virginie Despentes' Baise-moi and Gaspar Noé's Irréversible.
The Shogun's former decapitator-in-chief turns Lone Wolf with his young son as they wander the dusty tracks as masterless samurai, always keeping an eye out for the Shogun's nasty ninja’s.
Shogun Assassin must surely be one of the most infamous video nasties, a product of an age not so long ago but which now seems curiously nostalgic to our desensitised modern eyes. “Blood gushes out all over the screen – as if being hosed into the camera!!” Vipco proudly announces on the cover of it’s previously banned 1980 rehash of the first two instalments of the Baby Cart series, itself a version of the original Lone Wolf and Cub manga comics.
Shogun Assassin is basically a violent repackaging of the Sword of Vengeance and Baby Cart at the River Styx films, edited together to maximise the violence and minimise the story for we bloodthirsty Westerners who, in the golden age of gore, didn’t want to be distracted by such mundane things as dialogue, storytelling or historical background. And so we have this bloody classic, re-released for the gore-devouring British general public in the early 90’s who by that time were presumably much more equipped to deal with such levels of violence post 80’s onslaught.
Director Kenji Misumi tells a grave and bleeding tale narrated with the solemn frankness of the aforementioned Cub (Masahiro Tomikawa.) “What a time you chose to be born, Daigoro”, the soon to be Lone Wolf tells his baby son, born into a time of unrest in the empire under the suspiciously unbalanced rule of the Shogun, sporting the obligatory dodgy grey hair and eye brows of the typically outsized proportions. With the tragedy that follows the expert, infamous and feared samurai takes to the road with his young son in tow as they both resolve to live the life of “demons”, making a living en route with the odd spot of contract killing.
What this intro does is set up a rather vague and slow but nevertheless effective build up to the violence it is working towards in the latter parts of the film, which borrows more heavily from the second Baby Cart film. This beginning is a much darker affair than the rest of the film and heavily tainted by the sadness of Lone Wolf, as we find out from Daigoro’s narration. The strange and silent but solid bond between father and son is both fascinating and touching from the eyes of a western society where such a situation would be unthinkable, let alone the subject of a film. But rather than feeling exploitative there is a peculiarly lovable edge to this bond of honour so alien to our society.
As the film moves towards the inevitable extreme violence the pace quickens and the editing becomes as choppy as the swordplay, which is all, of course, set to some pretty decent cheesy 80’s synthesised music. Despite there being much heavier levels of violence towards the end as the murderous duo are sent the Shogun’s most feared and so far undefeated ‘ Masters of Death’, the tone feels lighter and much less serious as the film moves away from the emotional element and gets well and truly into gear as the no holds barred execution it’s marketed as. This certainly hits the spot with the ridiculous levels of extreme violence and silly behaviour we’ve come to expect from this type of film, complete with intentionally humorous throat slitting monologue-“Ridiculous!”
Shogun Assassin is definitely worth a watch as it does pretty much what it sets out to do. Although it is very violent and bloody it’s not of course as shocking as it would have been back in those heady gross-out days of the 80’s. In that respect, however, it feels like a little bit of celluloid history what with all the re-editing and re-releasing and so it has a kind of funny quaintness about it in that respect. In the post-80’s age of liking my violence diluted with a touch of story I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed with the move from the more emotive beginning towards the cheesier end. But, this isn’t the Baby Cart’s this is Shogun Assassin and that folks is what it’s meant for, lots and lots of violence, yeah!
A classic piece of “previously banned” cinema, inevitably rather disjointed through editing but nonetheless a rather enjoyable and inventively violent treat - "Ridiculous!"
Bookmark: 
Subscribe: 