Gothic Adaptations and Literary Mysteries

Gothic Adaptations and Literary Mysteries

by Kristin Battestella

Although some of these contemporary movies and miniseries based on books are better than others are, the literary adaptations herein exude plenty of gothic atmosphere, mood, and mystery.

The Limehouse Golem – Sublime frocks, décor, carriages, and top hats accent the 1880 bodies in the bed, poisoned cordials, and bloody riddles opening this 2016 serial killer about Londontown adapted by Jane Goldman (X:Men: First Class) from the Peter Ackroyd novel. Red gore, orange lighting, and green hues befitting the title join pink and gold dance halls, sing songs, and theatrical cross dressing as Bill Nighy's (Underworld) Inspector Kildare avoids the sensational headlines and public bloodlust in favor of handwriting analysis and murderous journals. Messy footprints, missing police reports, and polluted crime scenes don't need any modern stylistic intrusions – the intercut discovery mixed with on stage recountings of the kills, disjointed past and present point of views, and non-linear editing are unnecessary. Fast moving abusive childhood flashbacks within murder trials when we've hardly met everybody make the focus of the story unclear, the assistant constable repeats everything the inspector already knows just for redundant audience exposition, and the gay comments about Kildare are useless. Famous names, library clues, dance hall girls, jealous playwrights, and life imitating art plays let the evidence speak for itself, piecing together the case with scribble in the book margins, secondhand shop keeper connections, and inspector deduction. Distorted voiceovers, violent slicings, backstage nudity, accidents on theater stairs, and religious undercurrents set off the deceased's recounting of the crimes in fantasy-esque flashbacks repeated with each suspect as the killer. These brutal horror reenactments compete with the song and dance flashbacks, but they also help blur the investigation as important details aren't shared with the kangaroo trials, distracting the audience as information is given and taken for shock value or cinematic reasons when key evidence, set ups, and relationships would be obvious if anyone but Kildare was paying attention. The persons of interest, backstage investigations, play clues, deflection, and one on one interviews are better once the flashbacks stop and the real time case proceeds. There must be a reason why the crimes have stopped – what we need to know is given in the opening scene – and all the back and forth delaying belies viewers into how little time has passed and why the police are unaware the killer hasn't struck again. Longtime viewers of British period mysteries may see through this faulty veneer with padding misinformation and meandering backstory in need of tighter direction rather than style over substance. Fortunately, there's an interesting mystery, multiple suspects, numerous kills, and suspicious ties between them as the execution order counts down to the finish. The infamous show must go on no matter how many people die for it, and this is fun for fans of Steampunk style mysteries.

Rebecca – Artistic ingenue Emilia Fox (Merlin) – companion to wealthy gossip Faye Dunaway (Don Juan DeMarco) – is smitten by the suave yet mysterious Charles Dance (Bleak House) in this 1997 three hour Masterpiece adaptation of the Daphne Du Maurier novel. Sublime style, flapper headbands, candlelight, and long stem cigarettes add to the whirlwind 1927 Riviera's scenic drives, classic convertibles, and charming hats. Unlike the immediately gothic gray scale of Alfred Hitchcock's 1940 version, vivid color and visual depth layer this initially idyllic romance. Our unusual couple have each been shy, lonely, and sad, but Maxim de Winter admires this young lady's innocence and honesty compared to the gilded aristocracy. Picnics, boat rides, a silly girl, a foolish old man – can they make a go of their differences? The dangerous curves and perilous drives suggest something slightly sinister brewing amid glimpses of the unforgettable and beloved by all Rebecca. It's been a year since her death, yet everyone must remind Maxim of his late wife upon this surprising second marriage. The newlyweds return to the lovely English gardens and proper decorum at Manderley, the estate where the Emmy winning Diana Rigg's (On Her Majesty's Secret Service) icy housekeeper Mrs. Danvers won't let go of the first Mrs. DeWinter's memory. The household reception is awkward and chilly – the coastal brightness turns darker thanks to shadow schemes, lighting changes, and the looming silhouettes of both Mrs. Danvers and Rebecca. Despite being a large estate with a west wing facing the sea, the hefty staircases, huge windows, and great fireplace feel congested, closing in on the new, nervous Mrs. as she gets lost wandering the shuttered parts of the house, breaks priceless statues, and hangs her head like an admonished little girl. She doesn't fit into the upper class routine, but the brooding, often misunderstood Maxim doesn't want her to become like those other cruel, aristocratic dames. Everyone is so heavy handed, formal, and not just unhelpful but resentful of how unlike Rebecca she is, and the couple regrets returning home to the rocky cliffs, beach side cottages, and distrustful staff. Crazy hermits, past gossip, vogue cousins too close for comfort, recreating previous fancy dress balls, and one big costuming faux pas strain the relationship further, but she can't exactly ask her new husband about why the pieces on how Rebecca drowned aren't coming together. Her room is still kept as is, almost in worship where our devoted housekeeper can express her creepy vicarious and pathetic intimacy, re-enacting brushing her madam's hair and laying out her perfumed night gown. Was Rebecca really so perfect? If she wasn't would anybody actually say so? Her presence is overwhelming – not because of any actually supernatural mood or ghost, but because the obsessed Mrs. Danvers won't let anyone forget, placing the fanatical pressures of her devotion on the second Mrs. de Winter. Foreboding strings add more ominous, however the suspense is certainly helped by Maxim's not coming clean on his life with Rebecca at the start. While some scenes are very similar to Hitchcock's vision, this is also closer to the novel, and even if you've seen other adaptations, viewers are swept up in wondering how the secrets will play out in the finale. Fog, vintage boats, watery evidence, mistaken identities, inquests – the circumstances surrounding Rebecca's life and death come to light, but our servant oversteps her bounds with cruelty, jealousy, and bullying suicidal whispers just to assure the Rebecca everyone thought they knew and loved won't die. Though more romantic than true crime, the fresh love and warped liaisons are told swift and honestly as the scandalous true colors are revealed with fainting spells, medical discoveries, fiery rescues, and kisses in the rain. Indeed all the gothic staples are here with period mood and performances to match.

Split Opinion

The Moonstone – This five part 2016 series based on the Wilkie Collins novel opens with funerals, church bells, top hats, and tombstones before gloomy Yorkshire estates and a family cursed to unhappiness thanks to the eponymous plundering. Flashbacks to the pleasant year before recount the colorful gowns, piano music, painting, kissing cousins, and birthday gifts. There are, however, prowlers, suspicious visitors, dangerous beaches, melodramatic maids, rival suitors, and awkward dinners. This was not the day to quit tobacco! One and all pass around the diamond – broadcasting its whereabouts before immediately suspecting the “gibberish speaking” foreigners among them of its theft. The hysterical birthday girl doesn't want a public scandal, refusing to speak with the police who bungle the case with a contaminated scene thanks to a meddling maid made obvious by the ominous music. Men are worried about rectifying their reputations over the lost gem, but one wonders why they go through the trouble when the lady herself impedes them amid nonsensical red herrings, cluttered pacing, spliced editing, and foreboding fake outs. The revisiting flashbacks and present conjecture interrupt the tension with coming and going scenes or up and down stairs transitions stalling the seeking of clues while questionable colonial aspects, off humor, and poor acting parodies the deduction with overly pompous, long winded dialogue, and faux sophistication. London to Yorkshire travel looks instantaneous, and timeline breaks should bookend episodes only instead of deflecting the mystery. A ham-fisted superintendent, busybody relations, and back and forth blaming contests hinder the case further with stupid snobbery. Itemized prophecies with clues, convoluted letters, second hand evidence, and missing people string the messy in the wrong direction. The meandering points of view and uneven framing don't build characters or suspense, and viewers already have precious little sympathy since our supposedly so in love cousin so adamant about the girl and resolving the theft up and left for an entire year. Timely deaths, mysterious wills, suspicious marriage proposals, and coastal rescues finally provide something incriminating halfway thru Episode Four as love sick letters recount how the subservient people of the house were lost amid all the upper class hullabaloo. Eyewitness unreliability and laudanum stupor add to the painting clues and prospective motives while secret passages and potential suicides culminate in jeweler trades, bank stakeouts, and bodies at the hotel. Although this comes together in the last half hour, the presentation continually goes back to the night of the crime where it never should have left all the action in the first place. Characters themselves ask how they are always back where they started, but the insipid performances can't disguise the Twelve Days of Christmas cumulative – each hour adds a superfluous person who knows what happened then who travels to read a letter revealing what happened the Monday after the Wednesday that the moonstone was stolen. Such treading tires impedes the game afoot, and there's never a sense that anyone is closer to solving the mystery. This is fine for audiences who like period piece whodunits, yet such an audience is already well versed enough to be frustrated by this piecemeal structure. The series is twice as long as it should be when a streamlined, feature length design would have sufficed. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Disappointing

Labyrinth – Christopher Smith (Black Death) directs medieval heroine Jessica Brown Findlay (Downton Abbey), bad girl Katie McGrath (Merlin), Malfoy in a greasy wig Tom Felton (Harry Potter), gigolo writer never seen writing Sebastian Stan (Avengers: Infinity War), annoying creep Emun Elliot (The Paradise), and the under utilized John Hurt (Only Lovers Left Alive) in this 2012 two-parter based upon the Kate Mosse book. Opening scrolls set the 1209 Carcassonne scene with Catharism sects, reincarnation, and Holy Grail secrets before contemporary archaeology digs and caves with ancient writings. Although the men's armor looks cheap, the medieval costumes have the right silhouette – healers, herbs, and woodwork create period detail while scenic bridges, horses, and country beauty belie ominous bodies in the river, missing fingers, and mysterious books. Unfortunately, this telling of two tales at once is immediately confusing with lookalike sisters both introduced in sex scenes with the same man and a modern woman who takes on this archaeology thing after a bad break up, goes into a cave during an earthquake, and is rightfully chastised for her amateur contamination of the site. While a book can go back and forth per chapter, this television film juggles too much. The Old Speaketh is try hard and everybody in France speaks unaccented English as crusader persecutions are intercut with good cop/bad cop interrogations. Secret brotherhood meetings, double crossing contacts, another corporate woman introduced with a nooner – we're still meeting everybody an hour into the story thanks to the spliced presentation. Longer scenes building tension between the sisters, car accident shockers, and hooded rituals with candles and daggers better show the medieval past and present, and the two parts should have had all the past action naturally building to the present intrigue. Why tell in a current research montage when we can see that past suspense? The uneven structure cheats with women from different times in the same frame or place just for visual effect, delaying the storytelling with attempted edgy. Hot guys in the pool, iPod mentions – leave your number by typing it into some man's phone, is that for real? – and forced chemistry aren't as interesting as a Book of Potions or religious protectors. Secret society bad guys chase something so important one moment only to call it an irrelevant loose end the next, people with answers go unutilized, and clues are waiting in an inherited house but nobody goes there. A righteous thug with a silencer shooting people for not going to confession and information easily given that should have come sooner are too convenient as neither past nor present is primary thanks to no sense of danger and the thin women's tropes such as the one-dimensional illegitimate naked bad girl scorned threatening a man with cries of rape. It's also tough to enjoy the trebuchets, sieges, fire, and cemeteries when all the miscast, messy, mansplaining men are so weak in battle. Although the opening scenes suggest a mystical connection, there is no point to these separate stories being told in parallel. Neither receives the attention it deserves, leaving the medieval hollow despite serious topics and the present lacking an intelligent mystery that doesn't know its audience. While the men in such adventures can handle the Holy Grail, reincarnation, immortality, and get the girl; with women the medieval must be all jealous affairs and a soap opera sappy choice between a lover or the greatest religious and archaeology discovery ever. Boo!

Top Ten: Writers!

Welcome to our new Top Tens series in celebration of I Think, Therefore I Review's Tenth Anniversary! These monthly lists will highlight special themes and topics from our extensive archive of reviews.

This time I Think, Therefore I Review presents in alphabetical order...

Our Top Ten Writers!

Charles Beaumont

Robert Bloch

Bernard Cornwall

Jane Goldman

Stephen King

John Logan

Richard Matheson

Edgar Allan Poe

Rod Serling

Robert Louis Stevenson

Please see our Books tag or visit our Sharpe and Science Fiction labels for more literary analysis!

I Think, Therefore I Review began as the blog home for previously published reviews and reprinted critiques by horror author Kristin Battestella. Naturally older articles linked here may be out of date and codes or formatting may be broken. Please excuse any errors and remember our Top Tens will generally only include films, shows, books, or music previously reviewed at I Think, Therefore I Review.

More Hammer, Lee, and Cushing!

More Hammer, Lee, and Cushing Trinity!

By Kristin Battestella

Why not spend the summer delighting in another batch of Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, and Hammer Horror treats both vintage and anew?

The Bloody Judge – The battle scenes are awesome in this twisted 1970 historical from the late writer and director Jess Franco (The Awful Dr. Orloff). The music is sweet; the colorful design looks the part and doesn’t feel cheap at all. One can even forgive the bad English dubbing, mixed languages, and sudden subtitles amid the otherwise fine script, dialogue, and native Anglo delivery. The persecution plots and political intrigue are nice, too – even if it has been done better and feels too Witchfinder General knock off.  Unfortunately, the fake blood is obvious, and the nudity presented is just too bizarre. The skin scenes are actually almost too subdued to start – one expects more in early seventies euro horror. However, the flesh gets awkward quickly with an out of place full frontal sex scene and lots more much too much shocking and fleshy torture. It’s initially effective to see the cruel rack and sadistic pain thanks to its great juxtaposition – these wicked, supposedly in the right officials against the nature loving, harmless witchcraft accused.  Sadly, the exploitative sex and violence goes overboard as the hour and forty-plus minutes goes on. It’s just too dang nasty – talk about torture porn! Ultimately, this uneven attempt at horror and sexploitation detracts from what could have been a seriously fine, macabre historical lesson. It’s a pity, as it’s certainly fun to see Birthday Boy Lee rocking that judicial wig! He’s just right as the creepy lawman checking out the bodices, bosoms, and wenches on trial but doesn’t have much else to do. Although Big C is great when he does get some demented ups and downs and crime and punishment and fans will enjoy his scenes, the entire picture would have been better served by doing a complete history on the titular mayhem.

From Beyond the Grave – Peter Cushing sports a hint of accent for this final 1974 anthology from Hammer rival Amicus Productions, and the creepy antiques and curiosity shop themes are an interesting precursor to Friday the 13^th: The Series. Demented music, great sounds, and smoke and mirrors effects add to the fun seventies styles, colors, askew camera angles, and shadow techniques. Séances and possessed mirrors take over in the first story, “The Gatecrasher,” and David Warner (The Omen) is delightfully tormented into murder for this largely one-man tale. “An Act of Kindness” continues the weirdness thanks to street peddler Donald Pleasence (Halloween), his kind of kinky daughter Angela (Symptoms), and some deadly voodoo for good measure. Some dark humor sets off the psychic warnings, demonic touches, and poltergeist effects in “The Elemental,” and lastly, Ian Ogilvy (Witchfinder General) and Lesley-Anne Down (North and South) discover centuries-old occult disaster behind “The Door.” The character developments may seem slow to start or the writing somewhat soft or tame today, but there’s enough blood and action to carry the macabre mood. This one makes we want to marathon all the Amicus anthologies for one massive, eerie late night! We don’t see Cushing too much, but we shouldn’t be fooled by his seemingly so cute and innocent proprietor. Don’t these people know not to cross Big P?!

The Resident – I didn’t like the last Hillary Swank horror attempt The Reaping – actually I dislike any time she goes off her Oscar winning type coughP.S. I Love Youcough. Thankfully, she’s solid as a strong but socially awkward and somewhat man needy doctor in an ominous apartment for this 2011 nuHammer thriller. Likewise, Jeffrey Dean Morgan (Grey’s Anatomy) is effective, even if it’s obvious he’s the too good to be true handyman in a horror movie. At the standard 90 minutes, precious time is wasted with cool opening credits – not usually a good sign for a recent horror film – and the story is slow to get going and ultimately quite predictable. The cheating boyfriend explanation for her moving comes a little too late and the color gradient looks over processed, but the hospital blood and gore are well done. Of course, Christopher Lee has a great introduction. He looks like a perfectly respectable grandfather, yet there’s something just a bit creepy old man about him, and I love it! Although the casting and plot could have easily gone the college bimbo route and it sets up some naughty, eerie hi jinks, the brief Swank nudity and up close lingerie shots are surprising. Fortunately, smart shadows, lighting, reflections, and some unique camera angles add to the suspense. The frenetic flashback answers a lot of questions and ups the stalker vibe, too. Yes, it turns this film from a seemingly haunted house bump in the night horror tale to a nasty if somewhat typical real world thriller, and there isn’t a lot of mood, atmosphere, or truly spooky feelings as a result. Though pleasant, the New York contemporary city vibes and final reliance on plot holes, tools, hardware horror, and chases hamper the “it could happen to you” fears. It’s a bit misguided and could have been more, but the cast is likeable and some quality character twists win out.

Wake Wood – Perhaps this type of child death and parental grief horror is too familiar – it’s been done before, certainly. Fortunately, there is enough relate-ability, disturbia, and morbid in this frightening 2011 nuHammer ‘be careful what you wish for’ lesson. Despite the seemingly happy family introduction, things will obviously go bad for Aidan Gillen (Game of Thrones) and Eva Birthistle (Ae Fond Kiss) thanks to the creepy Timothy Spall (Auf Wiedersehen, Pet) and his abacus of life and death calculations! The dramatic, intercut opening scenes don’t feel like a horror film. However, the subsequent despair, blood, gruesome effects, animal terrors, creepy townsfolk, and nasty rituals make for some very upsetting visuals. Some of the swift editing and quick camerawork is a bit too flashy, and those rituals do become overlong and too complex, yes. The voices are also tough to hear compared to the violence, and the accents will be tough for some stateside. Thankfully, the Irish locations and country scenery are very colorful and bright, making for a pleasant contrast and ‘what lies beneath’ the quaint eerie.  More unique filming angles and photography accentuate the desperation and delightfully build the slow, sinister reveals. I don’t want to give everything away, but this one stands out among the standard crop of recent horror clunkers. There’s enough macabre for the expectant horror fan to enjoy, and a level of dramatic maturity with serious consequences and a few twists.  

The Woman in Black – Harry Potter star Danielle Radcliffe does well in this 2012 nuHammer creepy haunted house ghost story adapted by Jane Goldman (Stardust, X-Men: First Class) from Susan Hill’s source novel. There’s a very nice gothic spirit at work thanks to the moody history, ghostly atmosphere, and mostly silent, one-man scares. Suspicious townsfolk and freaky kid deaths add to the sudden effects and camera tricks, and candlelight and darkness up the sinister for an overall, quite effective spooky.  Though the period settings are perfectly decrepit in addition to the smart, darker photography, there is just a little too much drab unnecessarily weighing down the film’s look. Perhaps there was an intentional kinship to something black and white or a depressing palette meant to mirror Radcliffe’s widower Arthur Kipps and his desperate state of mind. However, this devoid, colorless, overly digital, saturated dreary feels amiss –we have the spooky and disturbing elsewhere in set decorations, story, and character.  There’s no need to add this layer of off putting heavy – in fact, some rich late Victorian color and flair would have gone a long way in the household fears, local smarmy, and child scary simply because the viewer would have found something pleasing, if creepy, for the eye.  This doesn’t look fun to watch, and some horror audiences expecting more action or panache may be disappointed by this style. There’s also a few plot holes and missed opportunities or speculation with Ciaran Hinds (There Will Be Blood) as the upstanding, decidedly not superstitious Sam Daily. Were there townsfolk involved in the ghost causing history? Did Kipps really bring the titular vengeance as the bereaved claim or was something else at work? What the F happened to the dog? There’s room for some debate in the tale as it isn’t all explained in one big reveal, but a few clarifications would have been nice – especially since this budding sequel talk sounds kind of crappy. Despite a few questions and visual flaws, the 90-plus minutes here keep things ominous – the shocks and suspense happen without resorting to the crassness, gore, or nudity we so often find today. Bravo!

I was worried the nuHammer films would, well, stink, but two have been good, one’s decent with star power, and I’m looking forward to more! 

X-Men: First Class

X-Men: First Class Educates and Then Some

By Kristin Battestella

I have been waiting for X-Men: First Class for sometime indeed.  After the likes of the less than stellar Fantastic Four update and the dismal SyFy Channel attempt at The Phantom (A teen on a purple motorcycle is the best you can come up with for that franchise, really?), my expectations were exceeded by director Matthew Vaughn’s refreshingly simple concept to, as Artie Shaw would say, ‘Begin the Beguine’.

The Story

In 1944, Erik Lehnsherr (Bill Milner) witnesses Nazi scientist Klaus Schmidt’s (Kevin Bacon) torture firsthand thanks to his unique ability to manipulate metal. Young and privileged Charles Xavier (Laurence Belcher, later James McAvoy), however, takes in the scaled and blue mutant Raven (Morgan Lily, then Jennifer Lawrence) and by 1962, grows up to become a prominent scholar on mutations.  Erik (now Michael Fassbender) travels the globe in search of those who destroyed his family, ruthlessly cutting a swath towards Schmidt- who now goes by the name Sebastian Shaw.  Shaw and his fellow mutants Emma Frost (January Jones) and Azazel (Jason Flemyng) play both American plots and Russian plans against each other in hopes of starting nuclear war- and CIA agent Moira MacTaggert (Rose Byrne) needs Xavier’s help to catch them.  Xavier and mutant genius Hank McCoy (Nicholas Holt) use Cerebro to locate other mutants including Alex Summers (Lucas Till) and Sean Cassidy (Caleb Landry Jones). Charles also convinces Erik to join the team, although the latter is only interested in his personal vengeance quest.  During the Cuban Missile Crisis, the CIA turns to Xavier and his mutants to defeat Shaw, but Erik is convinced the innate fear of mankind against mutants will be their undoing.

Why do we have this thick, self-centered, and ever repeating notion of taking fifty years of comic books- or any literary or media franchise for that matter- and changing them to make it supposedly more relevant to our fleetingly contemporary minds and styles?  Producer Bryan Singer (director of X-Men and X-2: X-Men United) and director Matthew Vaughn (Layer Cake) smartly go back to the times and places where the X-Men comics began and create a unique, vibrant, and no less relatable tale. Writers Jane Goldman (of Stardust and Kick Ass also with Vaughn), Zach Stentz and Ashley Edward Miller (Andromeda, Thor), and Sheldon Turner (Up in the Air) craft a timeless story of friendship, belonging, and fracture wrapped with retro design and would be behind the scenes history.  Action and modern witticisms are not at the forefront here, characters and the plot at hand are.  This switcharoo away from what we are accustomed is all the more refreshing because it works so well. Overall, the dialogue is properly rooted in the sixties with fine, intelligent debates.  Some may be surprised at the slower and quieter moments here thanks to this focus on the personal, but the pace of X-Men: First Class is just right, a natural progression and build up of players and events.  What needs to happen happens, leading up to everything viewers of the first films and readers of the comics already know.  Even with such built in awareness, there is still room for surprises, tension, suspense, and suspension of disbelief. Hello, even knowing how the Cuban Missile Crisis plays out, I was still holding my breath at First Class’ outcome.  That’s impressive!

The Stars

I’m a little upset about the claims that there are no true stars and big names in X-Men: First Class. How is one to become a star but by stealing the show in a film like this? And who is it that has the viewers holding their breaths and unable to blink when he is onscreen? Why Michael Fassbender and his young Magneto, of course.  (All of you who thought I was nuts for praising his work at last understand what I mean- the lady behind me in the theater shouting ‘Dayumn!’ every time he did something sure caught on quick!) As the vengeful and reluctant dark horse on Xavier’s team, Fassbender (300, Hunger, Fish Tank, Inglorious Basterds, Jane Eyre) excels with a wildcard abandon for languages, action, anger, rage, tears, and vulnerability. Even knowing the villain he is to become, we can’t help but understand where Erik’s ideologies come from and see that his wary theories on human error aren’t that far from the truth.  Again, those are the best kinds of bad guys- the ones self justified in what they do.  We want Charles to, well, complete Erik- heal him and make his soul whole again.  When Erik is laughing along with the other mutants and sharing long untouched memories with Charles, we believe he could amount to great things for the common good. As much as I love Ian McKellen, your thoughts are not on the elder Man of Magnetism here. Fassbender is the Vader of X-Men: First Class. It’s downright beautiful when Xavier truly touches Erik mentally and they save each other’s lives in turn. It’s beautiful because confident, intelligent, sexy badass guys aren’t supposed to get touchy feely!  To reach such poignancy only to see Professor X and Magneto then fracture is so, so sweet.  As opposed to his avante garde independent films, Fassbender most definitely proves he can handle the lead in larger movies with X-Men: First Class. Ladies who didn’t love him before will want to take him home and wipes his tears while male comic book fans will shake his hand and fight along side him. 

Though some audiences were upset by the occasional accent changes or thought Fassbender’s accent dropped all together towards the end of the film; honestly, I only noticed a major Irish inflection once in two viewings.  Not that his voice didn’t waver, it certainly could have. However, when you are so into the movie and the dialogue being exchanged, at some point you just don’t notice that McAvoy is really Scottish and sounds nothing like Patrick Stewart, either.  It’s a half hour into the movie before Fassbender even speaks English anyway.  His French- normally assumed to be such a lovely and romantic language- is used wonderfully in a threatening interrogation. We already saw the charmingly tragic Bill Milner (Son of Rambow) speaking German as the young and traumatized Erik; but knowing this ruthless French is not Lehnsherr’s primary language only makes him all the more deadly, even scary in his scorn. American audiences only familiar with Fassbender’s undercover, German speaking English spy from Inglorious Basterds might even erroneously expect his natural accent to be British, but his German here is again flawless.  It’s edgy, angry, sarcastic, and he switches so smoothly from an effortless Spanish in that great Argentinean stand off.  Even if there were no subtitles, you understand Erik’s deadly inflections whatever language he speaks.  Add his budding 007 style complete with black turtlenecks, fedoras, and three-piece suits to that deadly magnetism and ruthlessness, and you know not to mess with this guy. So then, seeing Fassbender turn on the dime to laughter, tears, and mutant inspirations is just the biggest star making bonus- and it is about time American viewers got on the Fass’ bender. If vocal inflictions are all the fault you can find in his performance here… Touché Fassy. 

In some ways, I feel bad that Fassbender has stolen some of James McAvoy’s thunder, because there is nothing wrong with McAvoy (Wanted, Atonement, The Last King of Scotland) in this film.  He wonderfully embodies the youth and zest of our prequel Charles with such compassion, hope, and vigor.  McAvoy was, in fact, better than I expected him to be. Just Fassbender was better- and the two of them together, god sent!   Xavier begins First Class a little dense or arrogant in his superior thinking of mutant mind and alcohol.  McAvoy doesn’t have an easy task in making the do gooder rich boy likeable- Charles is spoiled and has it all compared to the juicy grey material and developmental arc for Magneto.  The juxtaposition of these two parallel but divergent friends is the core here.  Xavier learns some humility at a very big price- despite having big mutant dreams of saving the world and living peacefully with homo sapiens. Ironically, his enlightenment and awakening of Erik’s full power turns out to be his own undoing.  Hot damn! Frankenstonian aspects, Jekyll and Hyde amalgams, and Neanderthal comparisons add even more spin to this layered relationship and deep superhero movie.  How can two men who believe such drastically different things save each other? Are mutants to be the gracious superiors of humanity or should the advanced dominate before mankind lashes out in the extreme and fearful measures we are so clearly capable of? Is superiority defined by compassion or action? Which are you supposed to choose when neither choice is necessarily right nor wrong? Yes, you get these lofty concepts and more from First Class.

While internal conflict certainly goes a long way, Kevin Bacon (Mystic River, Apollo 13, Footloose, its Kevin Bacon, people!) as an awesome Bond-esque villain certainly helps up the ante.  Bacon is decrepitly delightful in his opening incarnation Klaus Schmidt- a scientist who thinks he knows where the Nazis have erred in their experimentations.  His suave Sebastian Shaw is equally juicy and selfish.  Bacon is not, hee, hamming it up, but he is enjoying himself with all the great sixties accessories, babes, and diabolical plans.  Shaw is vain, intelligent, and totally cruel.  What a guy!  Though it is probably highly unlikely thanks to an already jammed packed hardware season, I’d love to see Bacon with a Supporting Actor nomination.  He sets First Class in motion and sees his agenda through- for our mutants to defeat him is an insurmountable, uphill battle.  Does Shaw care that the planet is collateral damage? Nope.  By contrast, Oscar nominee Jennifer Lawrence (Winter’s Bone, The Hunger Games) perfectly struggles to embrace her mutant identity as the blue skinned Mystique.  Where does she fit in between Charles’ vague attention and higher goals and Erik’s anti-human hell bent?  I’m shocked that anyone would think this woman is fat, and her gentle possibilities and dividing discussions with Nicholas Hoult’s (About a Boy, Skins) Beast moves naturally in reflection to the primary relationship and overall motifs here. The handheld, up close, personal filming of Hank’s transformation is also almost werewolf in tone.  He is ashamed and unable to control the, uh, beast within. Is that all being a mutant is- fear and secrecy- or can their gifts be embraced for good? The main players of X-Men: First Class offer plenty of good versus evil as expected in a superhero movie, but there’s star-making finer performance and thought, too.

The Lesser Mutants

Adding to some of that superhero fun are the naughty and villainous mutant henchmen. Or henchwoman, as is the case with January Jones as Emma Frost.  Jones (Mad Men) does her icy duty and serves her purpose in the first half of film, but is largely absent for the finale.  Her uneven treatment and bitchy exterior are slightly mishandled, yes. However, if First Class is meant to be like a Bond movie in tone, this pattern should be expected.  The pursuit of a subordinate always leads to the revealed major plan and pursuit of the main villain.  The women may all seem mistreated, but again, a sixties era show wouldn’t have equal representation. I know that is an easy copout answer, but Rose Byrne (Bridesmaids, Damages) is undercover in a garter belt (hehe that isn’t much coverage!) for goodness sake, go with it. Claims that women shouldn’t  be in the CIA are rectified behind closed doors with the admittances of how important the women along side the battle actually are, but that praise is fittingly never said to their faces.  The women in First Class- whether human, good mutant, bad mutant- are all misunderstood for a reason. I’m more upset that Spanish actor Alex Gonzalez as Riptide had no lines and Vaughn favorite Jason Flemyng (Clash of the Titans, Primeval) as Azazel had so little to do.  Though both cool, neither is given much to contribute beyond the big battles and flashy badness. Does this detract from the film? Strangely, no.  These are villainous henchman who are supposed to be badass and seemingly unstoppable for our heroes. Both men get that juice across just fine and make the most of the little they are given.   

Unfortunately, the rest of the ‘X-kids’ as I call them are lightweight and merely okay at best. Edi Gathegi (Twilight) as Darwin is completely misused, even insultingly mishandled.  Not much time is really spent on the second tier’s particular abilities or any pouts about their mutations- just enough for it to not get super juvenile.  Instead, the smart newsreels, split screen, and splicing effects during the training montage helps make what could be a typical teen eighties collage with badass music remain sixties cool. We notice how neat the effect from the time is almost as much as the supposedly important kids harnessing their powers to get the job done. The youthful players are only at their best in scenes with Xavier or Erik and are otherwise the underdeveloped detriment of First Class.  In some ways, it might have been better to have had two films- one to know Xavier and Magneto and the second for the recruitment of young mutants.  I feel harsh in saying it, but Zoe Kravitz’ (Californication) Angel does nothing to advance the film.  Lucas Till (Hannah Montana: The Movie) as Havok seems to be too 21^st century flippant and mutant cool as well, putting both in direct opposition to the pain, angst, compassion and ruthlessness from the primary players.  Caleb Landry Jones (Friday Night Lights) as Banshee is more tolerable thanks to some of his humor, but really were he and Angel only included in the film ahead of so many other mutants just for cool dogfight flying above Cuba? Did any of these younger mutants really need to be there? Honestly, the answer is no. First Class’ bread and butter is in its main players, and every time the story cuts away from them, you can’t wait to get back.

However, I seem to be alone in my dislike of the beloved surprise cameo in X-Men: First Class. This no big shocker appearance doesn’t really do anything to advance the story at hand, thus my red pencil editing brain is screaming it shouldn’t be there.  Not that the scene in of itself doesn’t work or isn’t funny, just perhaps such shoehorn stunt casting is better served as an Easter egg or extended video footage. First Class stands up just fine without you know who, bub. Why not have someone who may be Gambit throwing our boys out of a poker game with some flaming cards? Why not have a girl named Kitty scream at their approach and run through a wall? For what this appearance cost, I would much rather have had some more time spent on developing the younger mutants already in the film.  By contrast, the second, more unexpected cameo serves a purpose here, working beautifully with Jennifer Lawrence’s development of Mystique and her relationship with Magneto. I am still thinking about this scene!  Oliver Platt (Huff, The Bronx is Burning) as the unnamed CIA Man in Black is also a lot of fun at inviting the mutants in and giving them their gadgetry, and the aforementioned Rose Byrne does just fine in what she’s given.  I’d like to see more of her MacTaggert and Professor X in a sequel, hint hint. Lastly, I must mention the fine ‘hey that guy!’ everybody and their grandma appearances rounding out the cast- including Ray Wise (the dad from Twin Peaks), Glenn Morshower (24), Matt Craven (Crimson Tide), James Remar (Dexter), Don Creech (Ned’s Declassified), and Michael Ironside (he’s effing Ironside, people!)

Bond. Design Bond.

Now then, do allow me a paragraph for more on the sweet, sweet Bondian aspects of X-Men: First Class- because frankly, they are undeniable to even a 007 layman. Michael Fassbender looks so friggin’ Bond, it is unreal.  In some ways, this film is more Bond than Quantum of Solace, and there is nothing wrong with that!  When Erik wears that fedora, goodness me, I thought he was going to toss it on a hat rack!  We didn’t get an opening gun barrel scene in that last Bond film, but Vaughn made damn sure to give his audience a pseudo gun barrel turn. And wow, how about those Bond title sequence styled end credits?  Even an early rogue underwater attack on Shaw’s yacht- complete with a detachable submarine- had me thinking some of my favorite Dalton from License to Kill.  Though the director and his star leaned more toward Dr. No and Sean Connery, I seriously can see Fassbender as a cross between Dalton and current Bond Daniel Craig.  And though he has already shown his chops for the role in previous films (I told you so!), Fassbender’s emotional Bond kinship and Vaughn’s intimate directing ways further proves X-Men: First Class is about people who just happen to be mutants- as opposed to contemporary banal action flicks about car chases and shootouts and little else.  

X-Men: First Class naturally wouldn’t be any good if it were the garish sixties look or Austin Powers camp we might expect.  However, the hairstyles, fashions for the men and women, and the set décor do indicate just enough of that aforementioned swinging Bond style.  Goodness, I’ve also been watching Dark Shadows again recently, and First Class has none of that bad blue and green paisley! Classy lamps, fun artwork, short skirts and tall boots, lots of leather, and some sweet turtlenecks keep it all just right.  Though by definition a period piece, this is not so period to put off anyone. The over the top is reserved for mutant gadgetry or fun villainy, and truly, after awhile, I forgot about the 1962 setting until the great use of JFK archival snippets and newsreel split screens reminded me. Yes, Charles says groovy twice, but it is a drunken pick up line and works perfectly in context. The brief period music fits into the club scenes when used- and it isn’t blaring or overwhelming the show.  Actually, X-Men: First Class did not give me a headache, and there weren’t many scenes expressly used for action’s sake, coughmichaelbaycough. Some of the concluding battle does look ill choreographed, but what do you expect from new mutants duking it out? Besides, the period fleets and aircraft are too damn sweet.  This attention to detail makes First Class genuinely look like a sixties movie, as opposed to some of those modern films ‘made to look old’. 

The Experience

While I’ve had mostly praise outside of a few questionable mutants, I was expecting more flaws in X-Men: First Class.  I spoiled myself on all the trailers, clips, and mistaken artwork and viral campaign- but most of that is largely out of context here. There is plenty more in the film that has yet to be seen online or in TV spots.  Unfortunately, it seems there were also longer bits or alternate takes used in some of the spots that are not here, and First Class does have a Fellowship of the Ring feeling, as if, well, we’ve only just begun.  Hopefully, anything excised will be on the video releases to come. Though justifiably long at 2 hours and 12 minutes, it does seem like there could have more to tell- the conclusion here definitely leaves you yearning for what happens next.  Is this a bromance? Is it too gay? Are their both pleasing consistencies and irritating inconsistencies with the original films?  Is it too politics of 2011? Well yes and no and absolutely are the answers to all those questions, and First Class still works wonderfully. I am, however, surprised by all the doom and gloom hyperbole saying First Class is a failure for only earning $56 million its opening weekend.  In the midst of a recession, First Class has thus far held its own with its primary predecessor- and that is with a very iffy marketing campaign, no fancy higher 3D return, and absolutely no merchandising strategy.  The critical reception for First Class has also been mostly praiseworthy, as compared to its most recent precursor X-Men Origins: Wolverine.  Is it not better to have both modest success and acclaim?  If the team behind First Class had been looking for a fantastical wad with no substance, they would have pursued 3D.  The fact that they didn’t shows they are more interested in making a quality film, and amen to that!

For my Friday 11:30 a.m. First Class cinema going experience, about 25 people attended and 5 folks were on cell phones. What then, is the ratio of time and people spent on the phone for a 2-hour movie? There were only a few women and one family with children, mostly it seemed like a bunch of guys cutting school and talking on the phone.  For those interested in the trailers, Mr. Popper’s Penguins is the required Jim Carrey family plug, but The Green Lantern’s trailer overflows with bad CGI. I could care less about Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon- it garnered a mere shrug from my Dad and a ‘looks messy’- though The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo looked good from what you could see.  Unfortunately, the teaser was so dang loud and rapid fire in your face that it made itself somewhat unappealing.  Rise of the Planet of the Apes looked like a cross between the aforementioned Transformers and Congo, with angry growling apes attacking cars on a bridge, yeah.  I do like The Three Musketeers- but in 3D, seriously? Lastly, Immortals looks exactly like 300- replete with fantastical slow motion phalanx and Fassbender’s flying Stelios. I kid you not.  Suffice to say, I don’t think there’s anything there I will see in the theater. But I would see First Class again. I did. Twice.

Do you need to be a fan of X-Men to enjoy First Class? Though calling the film ‘outstanding,’ my Father insisted this is not the kind of prequel you can see ahead of the original films. I, however, do think new audiences unaware can be floored all the same.  Longtime fans might find a few contradictions, but the stylized charm and performance forgive the question marks here. Those who would normally not consider a cheesy comic book show can also enjoy X-Men: First Class, as it is at least on par with other recently acclaimed and more serious superhero films like The Dark Knight and Spiderman 2.  I myself feel its kinship to the lovely heart and soul and nostalgia of the 1978 Superman. With only one f-bomb and some implied sexuality, this PG-13 is also safe for the family and has enough faux history, real emotion, and fine intelligence for the grown ups.  Save up and see X-Men: First Class ASAP.

The Gift

The Gift An Intelligent Mystery

By Kristin Battestella

With its big names and creepy storyline, you would think The Gift should have stood out upon its release in 2000. Fine performances, an intelligent murder mystery, and supernatural innuendo-The Gift deserves a second look.

 

It’s the sleepy South, and recently widowed Annie (Cate Blanchett) provides for her three sons by giving psychic readings and advice to troubled Buddy (Giovanni Ribisi) and abused wife Val (Hillary Swank). When socialite Jessica King (Katie Holmes) is murdered, Annie grows close to Jessica’s fiancé Wayne (Greg Kinnear). Unfortunately, disturbing dreams begin to haunt Annie, and Val’s husband Donnie (Keanu Reeves) is not pleased with her meddling.

 

The Gift is a complex tale. On one hand, it’s very obvious and has you calling out who is who. Then again, some sequences from director Sam Raimi (Spiderman, Army of Darkness) and writers Billy Bob Thorton (Yes, that Bily Bob Thorton. Before he was famous for drinking Angelina Jolie’s blood, Thorton showed his writing skills with Sling Blade) and Tom Epperson (Camouflage, also with Thorton) are very subtle and fool you into believing exactly what they want. Instead of making you feel stupid or relying on supernatural effects, The Gift holds the audience’s interest with strong characters and some good old fashioned wit.

Cate Blanchett (Lord of the Rings, The Aviator, Elizabeth) is on form as Annie. I was surprised to hear her put on a southern drawl compared to her usual formal Brit and Aussie speak. Sometimes it’s trying too hard and annoying, but other times it is just right. A viewer not familiar with Southern accents might be put off, thinking her voice severely fake. But the truth is, a lot of deep Southerners really talk like that. Once your ears adjust, Blanchett’s skill shines through. She’s compassion with her customers and sons, but we feel for Annie when things aren’t kosher. We root for Annie and want her to help solve this murder- not because we liked Jessica, but because we like Annie. There is a bit of the amateur detective in over her head feel, but Blanchett keeps Annie human and fearful of the crimes and her ability.

 

The Gift is largely a Blanchett vehicle, but the supporting cast does fine. Oscar winner Hillary Swank (Million Dollar Baby, Boys Don’t Cry) and Keanu Reeves (The Matrix) don’t have much time in this ensemble, but their transformation into a twisted, abusive, white trash couple is a bizarre delight. We know Katie Holmes’ (Dawson’s Creek) Jessica and Greg Kinnear’s (As Good As It Gets) Wayne aren’t meant to be together, and Kinnear shows his chops mourning opposite Blanchett. Likewise, Giovanni Ribisi (Boiler Room) plays Buddy as a ticking time bomb, and Sheriff Pearl Johnson (J.K. Simmons, The Closer) is a thorn in Annie’s side. Who can be trusted? The supporting cast is firm in their performances but no less ambiguous about their character’s motives.

 

Okay, there are a few supernatural spooks in The Gift, but if you’re looking for major effects and thrillers, you won’t find them here. We get the usual dreamy, shock and gore, in your face psychic vibes as needed; but outside of done up dead Katie Holmes, the creepy vibes come from Blanchett. Naughty boys will however, enjoy those nude Holmes’ bits.

Rated R for all that goodness, The Gift is not for kids or prudes. Straight horror fans might find this complex thriller too tame on blood, scares, and gore; however, audiences looking for something with a little more intelligence, character, and emotional will enjoy The Gift. Online viewing or renting and affordable DVD options give you every reason to love The Gift.

P.S. I Love You

P.S. I Don’t Love You

By Kristin Battestella

 

I really need to stop watching romantic comedies at 3 a.m. My last gander was the 2007 chick flick P.S. I Love You, starring Oscar winner Hillary Swank and 300 hunk Gerard Butler. Why do I bother?

 

Holly (Swank) and Gerry (Butler) live in a small New York apartment and argue like normal couples, but they truly have a great life and love at heart. When Gerry dies from a brain tumor, Holly struggles with his death despite help from her family and friends. Shortly thereafter, on her 30^th birthday, Holly begins to receive predated letters from Gerry. These treasures help her remember the good times, make new experiences, and find herself again.

 

She has had many an out there role, from The Next Karate Kid to Boys Don’t Cry, but I wonder what it was that drew Hillary Swank to this role. Holly is by no means a pretty part. For some reason the character dresses like an idiot, and there’s a lot of crying and why questions ala Nancy Kerrigan and the whole knee bashing thing. I can see the emotion in the grief and overcoming the death of a loved one, but for personal reasons alone, not from Swank’s trying. I don’t know what I’d do without my husband. Do I care if Holly gets over Gerry? Not really. She’s given plenty of opportunity to do so, and after chance after chance, not only did I not care, but I wanted to smack Holly to her senses. Why Hillary, why?

 

P.S. I Love You was hyped largely as the next big thing after Gerard Butler’s success in 300. I understand his not wanting to be typecast, and his work prior to 300 was quite diverse, from Dracula 2000 to The Phantom of the Opera. I just find this film of all the choices, to be so…weird. Some girls may be charmed by all the romance and such, yadda yadda, but otherwise, this is a very unflattering role. His singing is wrong here, and there isn’t an Irish actor out there to fill our Irish onscreen Gerry’s shoes? Not only is the whole ‘dead Gerry’ and Gerry Butler vibe a little creepy, but he disappears halfway through the film-before the last letter arrives. I don’t get it. Butler has one scene before the opening credits, then spends the rest of the film in flashbacks or as figments of Holly’s imagination. It’s as if the performance technically doesn’t exist. Star Trek fans complain if an entire episode is a dream or a big reset button. It’s not as if the ghost of Holly’s dead husband is really haunting her, that would be worthwhile I think, ala The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. It would have to be funny, not serious, Ghost cornered that. I just don’t see the appeal of a film that turned out to be a complete misstep for both leads. Why Gerry why?

 

Not only have the two leads been unfortunately miscast, but the absolutely stunning supporting cast of P.S. I Love You has been completely wasted. Oscar winner Kathy Bates (Misery) receives her token obligatory weepy scenes as Holly’s mom Patricia, and Gina Gershon (Bound) and James Marsters (Spike, People! Spike!) disappear from the film with no explanation whatsoever. We get a tacked on reunion with Lisa Kudrow (Friends) and a cop out at Yankee Stadium with Harry Connick, Jr.(Copycat). I found myself more interested in these fine supporting players and their complex relationships, but their trials and troubles are dropped in favor of Holly’s obvious and typical story. The eclectic mix has the comedic and dramatic-and heck musical-talent needed, but it’s never used by writer Steven Rogers (Hope Floats) and director Richard LaGravenese (The Fisher King, Freedom Writers, and The Bridges of Madison County).

 

It’s not woeful leads and misused support, however, that undoes P.S. I Love You- it’s the whole dang story from author Cecelia Ahem. Maybe the movie took its liberties from the source novel, but I’m certainly not rushing down the street to Borders to get the book, that’s for damn sure. The bemoaning of Holly just goes on and on. As I said, grief is something everyone can relate to, but enough with the letters already. They are too obvious and convenient. The first message is on a tape recorder. Why aren’t all the others? In this day and age, Gerry couldn’t videotape himself and email it to Holly everyday? How is she really expected to get over her dead husband if new information and good memories of him are technically coming from him after death?

Gerry and Holly are so poor, but he can plan elaborate bar trips and vacays to Ireland? And all this while dying of a brain tumor over the course of one year? The soul searching of what grief can do to one person is undone by the unrealistic nature of the story’s plan. Never mind the horrid soundtrack and all that omigod chick stuff about turning thirty, marriage, divorce, babies, and looks. And after all this, how does Holly get on with her life? By designing shoes! Could you alienate the male audience more? I can’t believe guys wrote and directed this.

Fans of the cast will tune in for P.S. I Love You, but I don’t think it will be a Gerry dream for the ladies or a tour de force for Swank fans. The DVD supposedly has more scenes and interviews with Ahern-something I would normally find interesting, but I don’t think its worth the full price of the disc. Unless you are a big chick flick fan, please avoid. Fans of the individual cast are better off finding clips on youtube.