Lizzie Borden Took an Ax

Fun Performances Make Lizzie Borden Took an Ax

by Kristin Battestella

We all know the song, and though campy, the 2014 Lifetime Original Movie Lizzie Borden Took an Ax utilizes juicy performances to flesh out the murderous ambiguity and did she or didn't she 1892 courtroom drama. 

Christina Ricci (The Addams Family) stars as Lizzie Borden, sister to Emma (Clea DuVall) and daughter of the soon to be bludgeoned Andrew Borden (Stephen McHattie). A messy barn, biting of luscious fruits, and Victorian white undies imply an underlying saucy to the spinster somber and silent dinners – tea time and full skirts make this largely a women's world with the occasional, overbearing, intrusive man. Fortunately, hatchets are afoot in surreal visions, violent inserts, and murderous dreams, toying with our unreliable narrator and the muddled timeline in a self-aware, campy tone. Talk of previous crimes, grudges, and disgruntled encounters lay more motive drama to Lizzie Borden Took an Ax, rendering the modern, intrusive edge with obvious fake outs or teases unnecessary. Though not super gory, the splatter bash and killer crunch a half hour in do better than any trying to be hip approach. This case is both well documented and a logistical mess, which allows artistic liberties and sensational embellishments on the crowded crime scene, town gossip, erroneous reports, and faulty investigation. Press hysteria and exhumed bodies may seem like standard detective plotting, but period accents and Victorian protocol add to the evidence variables and questionable bloody dresses. Despite staying mostly with Lizzie's questionable point of view, Lizzie Borden Took an Ax admits its stance via legal briefings and police discussions intercutting possible whack scenarios for a somewhat coherent frame on the what did or did not happen crimes. Debates on the unbelievable possibility of a woman committing such violence counters the scary white male jury versus little miss demure defense, and witness testimonies cast doubt on interrogations suggesting sociopath Lizzie did the the deed. However, Lizzie Borden Took An Ax does have some faulty framework – ye olde timestamps onscreen would have helped tremendously and historical conjecture is used as an excuse to waver between cool criminal warped and serious horror drama. Thankfully, this case's moving fast topsy turvy doesn't give us time to inspect the details, and not seeing the killings outright allows for hearsay, jury tours of the crime scene, and a slow horror reveal for the finale. 

 

Christina Ricci's Lizzie Borden is “a loner, Dottie. A rebel.” She gets up from the table without being excused, ditches the ironing if she can't hum while she works, and otherwise spies, lies, steals, or worse. After all, she's only a Sunday School teacher on Sundays! Lizzie looks at herself naked in the mirror and wants to go to a party at night without an escort – such not a little girl anymore behaviors imply more than just the bucking of Victorian attitudes when Lizzie gets more up close to her father than her cordial but prudish, dead woman walking stepmother. She clings to her dad, saying he wants her to stay with him forever and loves when she calls him handsome, but questions his suspicious sweat when she hugs him. Lizzie vows that she will neither be a wife nor a spinster, adding lesbian innuendo on top of the implied abuses or incest. How long has she been planning to kill? Lizzie Borden Took an Ax suggests a long gestating preparation with Lizzie's calculated crime scene reaction, careful glances, and a practiced playing to the tears. Lizzie holds up a little too well for the horror that has happened and is more concerned with how polite the police are or how happy she will be to live alone with her sister – almost blissfully unaware of the attributed crimes. These deaths feel premeditated and well orchestrated, yet crazy cracks show once Lizzie faces some tough interrogations. She changes her tune and professes her innocence while dreaming about the killings and resorting to fainting and sensational courtroom antics. We feel she is faking and she says her mind is clear, yet the jury can't tell either way. Despite the misplaced attempt Lizzie Borden Took an Ax takes with original girl power, button up cool facade, and hip badass style, Ricci creates a wild-eyed, slick transparency, and likable, scene chewing performance. Lizzie is a narcissist liar in action stifled by the courtroom and confused when she doesn't get her own way, and Ricci clearly has fun with the party-throwing, attention seeking, and ultimately infamous heiress.

In contrast to bad girl Lizzie, Clea DuVall (Carnivale) as the elder Borden sister Emma is quiet and unassuming. Lizzie Borden Took an Ax briefly suspects her and throws shade her way, but Emma is said to be out of the house helping others when the titular slice and dice happens. Unfortunately, she soon doubts Lizzie's account and comes to live in fear of what her sister may be capable of doing. Lizzie thinks they will be content forevermore in a new home at the top of high society, but Emma realizes her sister is utterly demented and locks her bedroom door at night to avoid Lizzie's violent threats. She doesn't like lawyers visiting the house or so many seemingly unneeded males entering their little world – again, whether it is possible abuses or implied feminine preference, Emma seems somewhat small or shy when it comes to men. Though not the fault of the cast, those men in Lizzie Borden Took an Ax are generally styled as inferior to the ladies parade or backhanded to the little women. We don't have enough time with Stephen McHattie (Emily of New Moon) as the gruff and subsequently late Andrew Borden, yet his hands on innuendo as a potential reason for the crime is felt in those uncomfortable scenes with Lizzie. Billy Campbell (The 4400) as lawyer Andrew Jennings, however, provides Lizzie Borden Took an Ax with the cold facts – a realistic if circumstantial perspective of the situation for the audience compared to Lizzie's loon and swoon. Gregg Henry (Hell on Wheels) as prosecutor Hosea Knowlton also provides fine legalese, not admissible battles, and harsh interrogations. At times, the media judgments and sensational her word against theirs back and forth feels like a contemporary courtroom drama. However, this famous case was modern, the OJ or MJ trials of its day, and the support here keeps the case grounded, balancing the over the top fun of Lizzie herself.

The carriages, period interiors, wallpapers, fine woodwork, and Victorian attention to detail also bring the stifling, rugged ye olde of Lizzie Borden Took an Ax to life. Bustles, gloves, feathers, fancy linens, and vintage lamps add upscale alongside mourning fashions and a visual air of sophistication. Despite congested house crimes, Lizzie Borden Took an Ax is well lit with bonus onscreen photography and old camera fun. Arrests and an overnight asylum whiff suggest the deplorable conditions for women against the system of the era, but swift cuts and artistic side shots keep the nudity ironically demure. Although some of the bright clothing, colorful accents, and modern fashion cuts feel slightly too contemporary as if the Lifetime millennial audience wouldn't watch anything too steeped in total historic design, the neckties, cute hats, and shopping scenes are pleasant, subtle ways to update the period without being super intrusive. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the modern musical score used in Lizzie Borden Took an Ax. Perhaps some instrumental rock edgy rhythms from Tree Adams (Californication) could have embellished choice scenes, but Southern Rock lyrics are as out of place as the slow motion musical interlude transition scenes are unnecessary. Are such tunes fitting for a gritty western? Sure – but a winking Victorian crime drama about a lady killer? No. This kind of extra try hard is what ultimately leaves Lizzie Borden Took An Ax feeling rough around the edges with no thorough thinking. We're never going to have a satisfactory definitive on the case so having fun with the yay or nay is forgivable, even expected. However, it's odd that this ninety minute telling of the story in its entirety retroactively becomes the backdoor pilot for the follow up The Lizzie Borden Chronicles. Had there been a better plotted progression, Lizzie Borden Took an Ax could have been all about the backstory potboiler leading up to the wielding with the 2015 series left to pull out all the courtroom stops. Instead, Lizzie Borden Took an Ax merely ends with a hammy tie to the jump rope rhyme – because, come on, we all knew it was coming.

Lizzie Borden Took an Ax takes liberties with the eponymous case and can be confusing or inaccurate at times thanks to modern music, contemporary shoehorns, and a faulty need to be cool. The undecided nature of the story plays at both horror serious and Victorian sensationalism, and the presentation could have been a much tighter thriller. Fortunately, the entertaining performances and campy hatchet-work make for enough water cooler did she or didn't she and yell at the screen debates.

Solo Lady Horrors!

Solo Lady Horrors

by Kristin Battestella

Old and recent, foreign or domestic – this viewing quartet is a healthy dose of solitary moms, virgins, co-eds, and tough ladies single-handedly facing the scares.

Goodnight Mommy – Lullabies and divine outdoor locations quickly turn ominous with dark caves, deep lakes, nearby cemeteries, and underground tombs accenting this 2014 Austrian psychological scare featuring twin boys and a mother under wraps. Despite the bunk beds, wise viewers will of course immediately wonder if there are really two sons – one always hides or jumps out while the other calls, and their mother only acknowledges one boy amid talk of an accident and a separation. Mirrors, windows, blurred portraits, and odd artwork embellish their cool mod home, and eerie visuals heighten the freaky surgery bandages, prying peering, twisted dreams, and creepy bugs. Close the blinds, no visitors, total quiet – the twins become increasingly suspicious when such strict recovery rules and more unusual behaviors don't compare to sing-a-longs and loving tapes made pre-surgery. Naturally, English audiences have to pay attention due to the German dialogue and subtitles, however viewers must also watch for silent moments and visual clues as this TV host mom's obsession with her surgery results increases and the boys' talking back turns into some rough encounters. The sons research videos online and find strange photos while hidden baby monitors and timer tick tocks up the suspense. Who's right? Who's overreacting? What if we could see things from the opposite point of view? They want proof she is their mother and contact the local priest, but these seemingly innocent boys play some gruesome games, too. The situation becomes more and more claustrophobic, becoming trapped indoors and locked in one room with homemade defenses and cringe-worthy torture done with something as simple as the magnify glass with sunlight trick. The audience is swayed with evidence one way before being presented with new unreliability, familial violence, and pyromaniac tendencies in a fiery topper. At times, this feels more like a sad drama than a horror movie and some elements might have needed a bit more clarification. However, the horrible stuff herein and debating on the what ifs lasts long after the viewing, and this is a fine isolated tale using slight of hand power of suggestion for its slow burn unraveling.

The House of the Devil – Creepy menus, cult statistics, and retro credits start this 2009 blu-ray featuring Jocelin Donahue (The Burrowers), Dee Wallace (The Howling), and Mary Woronov (Death Race 2000). Payphones, eighties rhythms, and old fashioned style add period flair alongside onscreen smoking, maps, feathered hair, and a big old cabinet television showing Night of the Living Dead. Even the giant Walkman and slightly corny music montage and dance about the house has a purpose in the narrative. Church bells, cemeteries, and an imminent eclipse lay the scary foundation, and rather than an opening scare fake-out, writer/director/editor Ti West (The Innkeepers) uses zooms and movement within the camera frame to create viewer intimacy, closing in from the chilly exterior and ominous windows as the suspicious phone calls lead to desperate babysitting jobs, desolate night drives, and a maze-like Victorian manor. Yes, our Samantha is at times very dumb and unaware she is in a horror movies thanks to plot holes a collaborator not wearing so many behind the scenes hats could have clarified. Mistakes and convenient contrivances in the somewhat tacked on final act also break the solitary point of view for the audience's benefit. However, that finale free for all with ritual candles, hooded robes, and a sudden twist ending is in the seventies splatter spirit, and the simmering, silent build happens naturally over the film. Instead of hollow thrills a minute, the viewer is allowed time to suspect the scary attic, theorize on suspicious photos, and listen for every noise – we know something is supposed to happen but not when. Though this kind of approach may seem boring to some, this innate alone trickle let's us appreciate the dark basement and the inopportune power outage for when the titular frights do happen. It's nice to have something different from the mainstream horror trite, too – not to mention an $8 pizza! 

Hush – Writer and director Mike Flanagan (Oculus, Absentia) and his wife, co-writer, and star Kate Siegel place our deaf-mute author in a pleasant forest cabin for some writing, relaxation, and terror in this 2016 eighty minute Netflix original. Comfort cooking noise fades and unheard laptop tones switch to wild kitchen alarms – immediately establishing the common sounds taken for granted alongside subtitled Sign Language, feeling vibrations for sound, and hearing an author voice in your head brainstorms. Friends speak while they sign, breaking up the quiet for the viewer, and we must pay attention to writing onscreen such as book jackets and manuscript text. Understandably, phone technology and Facetime calls are important, but an over-reliance on gadgets in horror can be tiring and soon dated with wi-fi switches, lost connections, and cut power. Fortunately, the intimate home makes the audience accustomed to the hearing challenges before adding the muffled silence, unseen scares, unheard screams, and instant cyberstalking. Through windows or foreground focus and background action, we have the full perspective when the protagonist doesn't. It is however a mistake to reveal the crossbow and Bowie knife wielding stalker so completely. We don't need to know the sociopath motivation nor should the viewer feel for the killer or care if he has any personality, and removing his mask just creates limp assholery. The frightening unknown with footstep vibrations, hands at the window, and approaching shadows creates a better siege, and the mystery of who and why is lost in the contrived lulls and stupid mistakes while Maddie waits around for his taunts instead of fighting back. Why not set something on fire, smoke signal authorities? Having her inner monologue address the situation and the pros or cons in each course of action is also better than breaking Maddie's point of view and using fake out possibilities. Although it's a pity millennial viewers wouldn't watch something that was all silent, the long periods with no dialogue, sound effects, and score crescendos do just fine in accenting these unique dynamics. While not perfect, this tale has enough thriller tense and innate woman alone in peril – and thus proves exactly why I must know where all the windows, entrances, and exits are in a given location and never sit with my back to any of them!

A Virgin Among the Living Dead – Various versions of this 1971 French/Spanish co-production exist thanks to re-releases of Jesus Franco's (The Awful Doctor Orloff) edition and added zombie footage from director Jean Rollin (Fascination). The trying to be poetic narration is unnecessary, the subtitles are off, and the dubbing is out of sync with the serious close ups. A dockside tense and snotty hotel warnings don't bode well for the boobies and little white panties revealing an obvious brown carpet not matching the blonde drapes, either. Askew angles, empty rooms, and creepy statues make this secluded villa Old World eerie – kind of like the mid-century Gothic look my parents' house had when I was a kid with big, foreboding lamps, tall, arched mirrors, and The Man with the Golden Helmet above an orange settee. Yes, I now realize this probably explains a lot about my interest in horror. (That and being forced to wear pink and bows but that is another story.) A happy nature stroll can't compete with demented music and deathbed vigils, and townsfolk suggestions to run, abandoned chapels, and prayer recitations are ignored in favor of this freaky family's casual views on death. Distorted camerawork accentuates weird eyes, facial oddities, and ritual pursuits as flies and buzzing sounds increase. From voyeuristic geezers and bats on the bed to a giant dildo on the floor and a blind chick getting her seventies bush trimmed by another girl sucking on her bloody boob – it's time to get out of Dodge. Unfortunately, the inconsistent characters and forgetful, stalling plot are very thin with potential psychic connections unclear and a running in circles, going nowhere fast pace. Intercut zooms while everyone squints over the reading of the will feels Charlie Brown wah-wah, and nothing comes of possible sexual awakenings, suicides, and daughters paying for sins of the father themes. There were no zombies in the version I saw – I'm not even sure which version it was. However, the muddled onscreen reflects the messy behind the scenes intrusions, and the overall result is not as good as it could have been. Fortunately, this isn't super bad, and Franco enthusiasts will find many bemusing aspects alongside the saucy violence and undead foretellings.

Family Frights and Perils

Family Frights and Perils

by Kristin Battestella

Zombies, ghosts, cults, fanatics – daughters, grief, moving, and politics are frightful enough with out these recent good, bad, and ugly horrors.

Maggie – Sad voicemails, outbreak news reports, desolate cities, quarantines, and martial law immediately set the bleak outlook for infected daughter Abigail Breslin (Little Miss Sunshine) and her gray bearded father Arnold Schwarzenegger in this 2015 zombie drama. Wait – Arnold? In a drama movie? About zombies? No choppers?! Nope, this is not an action horror movie, and gruesome gurneys, gangrene encounters, and blackened decay are not played for scares. Here the body horrors and social breakdowns go hand in hand – science can't put a dent into the virus fast enough, and loved ones must wait as the vein discolorations and white out eyes spread toward heightened smells and cannibalistic tendencies. Minimal technology, chopping wood, rustic generators, cassettes, and older horseshoe phones accent the isolated farmhouse as insect buzzing, infected neighbors, and animal dangers mount. Younger siblings are sent away, and step-mom Joely Richardson (Nip/tuck) struggles with her faith, strength of conviction, and the promises they've made despite the deadly risks. How does a teenager keep it together when she has nothing better to do but sit around and die? Do you call friends for a last hurrah? This flawed father won't send his daughter to die in quarantine with strangers, but he can't give the painful lethal injection at home or make it a quick end, either. Creepy doctor visits amplify the stigmas and paranoia regarding these in between infected, and nice teen moments soon give way to growls and necroambulist changes. Where is the line between siege removal authorities and family compassion? Someone has to take control and there's no time for sympathy – just the inevitable breakdown of families desperate to stay together. Governator Arnold produced the film sans salary, and the off-type surprise provides heart wrenching results and must see performances. Granted, most audiences probably expected zombie action thrills a minute and there are unnecessary artistic shots, long pauses, and plodding direction at times. However, this is a strong story with hefty goodbye conversations, and it is surprising such realistically upsetting and horrible circumstances rather than horror went unnoticed. Without mainstream box office demands, indie releases are free to tell their story as it needs to be told, and this tearjerker delivers a great spin on the flooded and increasing derivative zombie genre. 

 

We Are Still Here – Grieving parents moving to an isolated country home only to find a deceptive paranormal force may seem like nothing new to start this 2015 eighty odd minutes. However, it's lovely to see older protagonists with a lot to say yet little dialogue. Clearly this couple is disconnected over their loss, and this situation is already tough enough before the snowy bleak, creepy noises, and horrific basement. Exterior blues contrast the warm, seventies orange patterns, record player, and glowing lamps inside – the classic cars and country setting should be quaint but we know better. By being period set, there's no need to bother with technology explanations, either. How do they find the place without GPS? What's the cell phone reception? It doesn't matter, but retro psychics and hippie highs add to the simmering build, fire crackling, and shrewd use of light and dark schemes. The small cast and simple locations are well shot with no shocks and jump scares, just a tight camera focus on people feeling the suspicious or reacting to ghostly smells. Recent horror movies try to scare the audience by calling attention to the gag rather than making us feel the discomfort of a character in peril. Without such orchestration, the viewer is allowed to gasp by paying attention to the suspect baseball and glove, moving photographs, and every other part of the frame. This looks great on blu-ray, and rather than yawning at the usual predictability, it's more fun inching toward the screen for what happens next. Here, creepy neighbors sharing about the Victorian funeral home history is the closest thing to the cliché person who knows research moment, and the awkwardness over cocktails and cryptic warning notes works. The creepy crawlies aren't shown clearly at first – conversations are peppered with words like souls, demons, aura, and hot as hell instead – and our at odds husband and wife need to be on same page to best these horrors. Yes, it takes a half hour for something to happen, but the excellent twists and experienced cast do not disappoint. A superb séance is done with nothing but voice, and the nightmares escalate into siege terrors, plenty of blood, and nowhere to turn. I don't want to reveal everything, but this little picture does all it sets out to do in telling a darn good ghost story. Why isn't this kind of horror movie in the mainstream cinemas instead of the rinse repeat trite?

Split Call

The Attic – A derivative prologue and picturing Mad Men's Elizabeth Moss as 11/17/83 young makes this one tough going alongside throwaway cameras and a giant family computer suggesting a setting older than 2007. Indeed, this melodramatic, diary writing teen daughter feels ten years late in her nineties mood – Emma wears wispy white but is fresh and flirty with older men as her crazy look escalates to a black slip and icky food substitutions. Jason Lewis (Sex in the City) seems dubbed with bad dialogue delivery, and although there would seem to be an internal reason for this, the nasty implications with dad John Savage (The Deer Hunter) also go unclarified. Annoying strobe ghosts, popping lights, dream flashes, and creepy mirrors are also shocks more for the audience than the characters. Ominous clues, symbols, and objects in different places do better gaslighting with doppelganger blinks and head injuries adding duality to the agoraphobia and filming through windows, open doors, and faces in the glass frame. Rattling doors and violent twists layer this spiraling out of control reality, making the viewer unsure if this a ghost, a dead twin, or all in Emma's head. Is she acting out over other hatred and abuse or just enjoying the attention? Brief scenes with parents and doctors away from Emma accent the who's telling the truth unreliable view. Which whispers are real or imagined? Numerous possibilities including Wicca and the occult or evil hauntings are left hanging with poorly edited, nonsensical montages beating the audience over the head with cheap effects and obvious suggestions. This picture both needs more time to explain itself yet pads the eighty minute duration. Did director Mary Lambert (Pet Semetary) not have the time or money needed to finish? One can really see the difference between the direct to video stigmas here compared to the theater quality on demand today. Confusing ghost physicality and figments of Emma's imagination logistics contribute to a weak ending with too many twists and no answers beyond a Matrix believe what you see, what your mind tells you, and what is real to you meta. Leaving the crazy up to the viewer isn't a free pass to throw everything at the screen but leave your premise unexplained. Why would a house spirit make her go crazy with an occult twin theory when it could just do creepy ghost stuff? Fortunately, the cast is good fun – including a looking great Catherine Mary Stewart (Night of the Comet) – and this is shout at the TV trying to be avante garde bad entertainment watchable if one can accept the crazy as an excuse to ignore the plot holes.

Avoid

Red State – This 2011 eighty-eight minutes establishes its small town mood quickly with bigoted protests, homophobia, and rebelling against redneck Middle America ignorance and hypocrisy. The too chill classroom and modern teens are however immediately annoying – three dudes spewing gay slurs and lame, compensating gang bang talk deserve what comes to them and the audience never has a reason to care. There are smartphones and porn sites, but mullets, back road car crashes, a trailer in the woods, cages, and sex being the devil's business comments forebode a rural horror potential that instead gives way to misused hymns and Biblical quotes in uncomfortable cult dressings. Disturbing family congregation cheers and askew, from below camera angles are meant to reflect this warped, but the gross, in real time sermon steers the picture into heavy handed commentary. The first five minutes were already unnecessary and I really wanted to skip over this icky segment and turn the movie off all together in the first half hour. If I wanted to get disgusted by corrupt shit, I'd watch the news. Every fifteen minutes viewers are continually betrayed with a pulling the rug out bait and switch combining for some kind of clunky horror FBI raid meets zealot save the children siege. I see why stars like John Goodman and Melissa Leo were interested in the subject matter, but there's no finesse in the attempted statements or falling flat scares. Hate crimes and horror really don't mix. Trying to be witty dialogue ends up as corny misses – and I love Kevin Smith's humor in Clerks and social winks in Dogma. Once again, a one and the same writer/director really should have had another person tell him you can't squeeze a bigoted drama horror movie political action film together and expect something fulfilling. While I applaud the edgy approach and true indie notion of for the people by the people film making, the self promotional on demand distribution and lack of recognition here is not surprising. Not only does this toss in every taboo possible, but the wanna be shrewd controversial never makes up its messy mind.