By Brutal As Hell staff
We continue with the next five films in our top 20 rundown of the best films from Brutal As Hell’s lifetime (which, once again, is not in order of preference). If you missed Part 1, click here…
Troll Hunter (2010)
Keri: Troll Hunter was a breath of fresh air on many levels; there are vast expanses of untapped folklore and mythology in Europe alone which have yet to make it to the screen, so it was a genuine pleasure to see the distinctly Norwegian folklore of the troll forming the basis of such an engaging, entertaining movie as we have here. Troll Hunter also proved that the shakycam format can be damn good in the right hands, and even – ssh – work in the film’s favour, as we’re taken along with the student filmmakers who find themselves on the brink of a very strange discovery and really feel ourselves experiencing events alongside them, perhaps even vicariously enjoying the fact, which they discover, that there are more things in heaven and earth…By turns funny and clever, Troll Hunter makes monsters cool again, and for that I am truly thankful. How in hell they plan to remake this, I can’t fathom, but you can bet that it won’t be a patch on this one.
Ben: For too long, low-budget horror movies have been afraid to tackle good old fashioned monsters. For too long, the use of CGI in low budget horror has been laughable at best. For too long, found footage films have lacked invention, wit and atmosphere. Troll Hunter discards all that conventional wisdom and winds up being one of the most unique and enjoyable horror movies, as well as one of the finest fantasy films in general, of the last five years. The creatures are beautifully designed and astonishingly well realised – most mainstream fantasy films don’t have SFX this good. Beyond that, though, it’s a wonderfully irreverent take on the sort of European folklore that we don’t see explored often enough on screen. Neil Marshall – you’d best not take remaking this lightly…
Read guest contributor Damon Swindall’s review from 2010, and Ben’s review from 2012.
Berberian Sound Studio (2012)
Annie: Who knew that the business of Foley sound could be so horrifying? Mousy Gilderoy has no idea what he’s in for when he accepts a job doing sound on a Giallo flick in 70s Italy. Used to the mundane world of nature docs, Gilderoy is thrust into a dark and sleazy world, trying to keep his sanity as he is forced to mimic the sounds of death. Haunting and surreal, Berberian Sound Studio stays with you like the endless echo of a death rattle.
Nia: Aside from the opinion-dividing work of Cattet and Forzani, or possibly Andreas Marschall’s Suspiria-homage Masks, have there been good gialli lately? Maybe I’ve missed them, but the subgenre strikes me as being somewhat dormant. Then there’s Berberian Sound Studio, part-homage, part-giallo in its own right. The strange little film managed to completely baffle the friends with whom I watched it (who I’m fairly sure have never even heard the word giallo, at least not in association with cinema), yet not so much that they didn’t come away having enjoyed the experience of watching the film. It’s an impressive feat to have made such an accessibly weird film, while remaining intensely impressive to more ‘in the know’ viewers. Toby Jones, it’s fair to say, is a delight as central character Gilderoy, his increasing confusion as the film progresses palpable through an at times cold and disconnected screen. If the film’s style and narrative mimic the films it pays tribute to, then it is all wrapped together wonderfully by the sound design and by the stunning soundtrack by Broadcast.
Read Ben’s review from 2012 and Tristan’s review from 2013 (just barely, it was published Jan 1st).
Maniac (2012)
Annie: See? Not all remakes suck. Not every reboot of a master classic is unnecessary and unable to improve upon its predecessor. This grimy, sleazy retelling of the grimy, sleazy 1980 classic isn’t interested in gussying itself up with splattery excess or lame CGI. Instead, it does a Gaspar Noe and crawls deep inside of our confused and terribly conflicted killer, forcing us to identify with him, his memories and his motivations. But the gore is definitely the backbone of the film, and when it comes, it’s ferocious. Elijah Wood always makes a wonderful psycho, but he really outdoes himself here, giving us a killer whom we would like to save, but whom we know we cannot. The power of this movie is in its sheer hopelessness and sorrow, drowning you in its despair.
Ben: In an age where remake (hand in hand with ‘found footage’) has become a byword for lazy filmmaking, Franck Khalfoun’s take on William Lustig’s notoriously sleazy slasher shines as a beacon of hope, a glittering example of how movies should be remade: with a distinct vision that honours the spirit of the original, but takes it somewhere completely new. Whilst the use of near-constant POV shots at first seems a bit of a novelty, it in fact helps this version of Maniac go to possibly even more unpleasant places than the original by drawing the viewer more directly into the action – and I’m still (pleasantly) surprised the genuinely unpleasant murder scenes got by the BBFC unscathed. Surely there’s no danger of anyone thinking of Elijah Wood as Frodo forever after seeing this.
Comix: To be fair, I’ve never seen the original, so I wasn’t caught up in the remake vs original hoopla that floated around the internet when this movie first hit screens. Personally, I was very excited to see how Elijah Wood would do in a horror movie and let me tell you, he was brilliant. He was convincingly creepy while still relatively relatable (I mean, don’t we all just want someone to love?) and his mannequin obsession really upped the weird factor. I loved the first person view point, something I had never seen before, and while at first I figured it was going to be super-cheesy, it was pulled off with an amazing amount of skill and detail. If I had my face any closer to the screen, I could’ve actually been the maniac! Maniac was a nice break from the standard dice-and-cut/ generic bad guy problem that the genre has been suffering under and its unique shooting style could open doors for more innovative horror movies to come through.
Read Ben’s review from 2012 and Keri’s review from 2013.
Midnight Son (2011)
Nia: I’m not sure what I can possibly say about Midnight Son that I haven’t already said on this site. I really, really, genuinely love this film. I first saw it on a massive screen in a room with the sort of festival crowd that tends to shout and jeer at films as tradition, yet the film didn’t seem to meet any derision (only the usual shouting out of stock phrases, which happens at every film), which seemed surprising for what is ostensibly a romance. One way I have of gauging how much a film has really got to to me is whether or not there’s a massive grin on my face at the end of it. Sounds obvious, I know, but it’s the kind of grin that I got at the end of Dogtooth as much as I did at the end of Avengers Assemble – the content or tone of the film doesn’t really matter, that grin will happen. And it sure was there with Midnight Son, a film that builds up to its final scene with aching tension, in the drama of Jacob’s vampiric disease as much as in the relationship between him and Mary. It’s a glorious scene, every single element of the filmmaking coming together – the acting, the direction, the editing, and, my god, the music! That the film is indepently made and low budget only serves to add to the joy I take from it being just so. Damn. Good.
Annie: Just when I’d given up hope on the vampire genre. Just when I thought I’d never again see a glitter-free bloodsucker, along comes Midnight Son, a dark and seedy vampire tale set in the underbelly of modern day L.A. Midnight Son isn’t just a vampire tale, it’s a story of addiction and desperation, loneliness and isolation. It’s gruesome and filthy, but as radiantly beautiful as the sun-scapes painted by protagonist Jacob. Extra points for featuring Larry Cedar as a world weary cop.
Read Keri and Annie‘s reviews from 2012.
Pontypool (2008)
Annie: You know that old saying: Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me? Yeah, bullshit. Words CAN hurt, and they do in this incredibly intelligent quasi-zombie flick about a virus that infects its host through the common, everyday endearments we utter which become meaningless in repetition. A radio station in remote Canada seems an unlikely location for a final stand against possible apocalypse, but taking to the airwaves amid the crisis, gruff and grumbly DJ Mazzy becomes a beacon of hope reporting from his lighthouse. This is a weirdass movie, and not for fans of empty headed splatter and mindless violence. Beautifully articulated, it is to the horror genre what a thesaurus is to a child: mandatory.
Keri: You know, when I finally got to see Pontypool, I was at the point where, for me, the zombie movie was kaput. Done. No longer fun anymore. Zombies had become so ubiquitous that I didn’t care if they ran or not; I was just bored. Yet in one deft move, director Bruce McDonald reinvigorated the horror of the genre, by hinging his story on something rather different. The use of the term ‘meta-‘ in horror can tend to be a misspelling of ‘pretentious’ on occasion, but it really isn’t the case here. By extending the idea of language as having the capacity to ‘go viral’, a concept with which we are familiar, Pontypool sees language itself as the virus; words spread like wildfire, consuming the identities of those who catch them. It’s a fascinating idea and it’s done very well here, helped no end by the film’s casting. Note to filmmakers: it’s okay to have a central protagonist who is neither an ass-kicking heroine nor under the age of twenty five, as Stephen McHattie (playing DJ Grant Mazzy) ably demonstrates. This is a clever, though-provoking film.
Quin: I’m a big fan of Canadian director Bruce McDonald and he is not known for his horror films. He does, however do the surreal really well. Most of this works like a radio dramatization (not unlike the War of the Worlds broadcast of 1938) – it really allows your imagination to do a lot of the work. The less you know about the plot ahead of time, the better. This reminds me of a darker and stranger Talk Radio (a 1988 film written by and starring Eric Bogosian) but the only horror in that one is at the very end. Pontypool is a film that needs to be absorbed and it would benefit from multiple viewings.
Read Marc’s review from 2009 (be warned, it’s a bit spoilery).
We’re halfway there; ten more films to go. Read on for Part 3…