Out Of The Void Issue 2: 2014 in Review by Out Of The Void

Volume 1, Issue 2 Josh Senior Hello! And welcome to the second issue of Out of the Void, Sheffield Hallam University’s official film magazine. A lot has happened since our first issue back in December, and I can’t wait for you to see what we have in store for you this time around. The Academy Awards have not long passed, and following the usual run of trophy-giving ceremonies, we decided that we’d cast our minds back with a retrospective of the past year in film. We’ve dialled back to 2014 to put together a short list of films that we feel represent the best of the year, some of which were highly underappreciated and undervalued by mainstream film publications. As a result, you won’t find Boyhood in here, but you will find a veritable feast of other delights. You might well have missed some of the films discussed in the following pages, but we want to make sure that you seek them out. 2014 was a highly impressive and interesting year for film, and we seem to have (almost accidentally!) recreated a microcosm of it here in these pages. It was clearly a year for smart twists on popular genres; The Guest, Cold in July, What We Do in the Shadows and The Babadook are all films that reinvent genre tropes and pay homage to popular cinematic traditions. It was also a paranoid year; Nightcrawler, Gone Girl and Maps to the Stars are some of the darkest, most scathing depictions of the media and entertainment industries for some time. The LEGO Movie and X-Men: Days of Future Past are intelligent blockbusters, proving that even in an industry currently dominated by sequels, remakes and franchises, a big budget doesn’t have to equate to poor storytelling. We’ve rounded off our selection with a pair of offbeat independent films that prove that there is treasure to be found on the art-house circuit: Frank and Stranger by the Lake. I hope that we’re catering to eclectic tastes here and representing the diversity of cinema today.

WRITERS IN THIS ISSUE Josh Senior: Editor-in-Chief Craig Ian Mann: Editor Oliver Innocent: Assistant Editor Sheldon Hall: Editorial Consultant Liam Ball Jacob Munro Burton Rose Butler Liam Hathaway Joe Lister-Streep Samuel Riley Nathan Scatcherd Kris Thomas

A few thanks are in order for the team of people who support this publication. So, at the risk of writing something that sounds an awful lot like an Oscars acceptance speech: a huge thanks goes out to Matthew Pateman and the Humanities department at SHU for providing us with the funding that gets this magazine printed and into your hands. Another massive thank you to Martin Carter and Sheldon Hall for offering their advice, guidance and support in all our endeavours. Without these people, we would not be able to produce Out of the Void, a venture that displays the superb writing talents of Sheffield Hallam students past and present. Long may it continue. And finally - as always - a huge round of applause for all our editors, writers and designers, who work tirelessly to bring this magazine to you. Now sit back, relax and rewind your mental VHS tape back to December 31st, 2014. We’re about to take you on a ride through the highlights of an excellent year for cinema.

DESIGN TEAM Lauren Banister Joe Bembridge Tom Clayton Eddie Fowler shuoutofthevoid.wordpress.com facebook.com/shuoutofthevoid

COLD IN JULY THE LEGO MOVIE GONE GIRL THE BABADOOK X-MEN: DAYS OF FUTURE PAST THE GUEST WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS NIGHTCRAWLER MAPS TO THE STARS FRANK STRANGER BY THE LAKE 05

COLD IN JULY

old in July continues Jim Mickle and Nick Damici’s successful run producing some of the most thrilling genre pictures of recent years. They began their careers with the criminally unseen Mulberry Street before gaining international recognition and critical acclaim for Stake Land, their reinvention of the vampire film, and their remake of We Are What We Are, which accomplished the unthinkable feat of bettering the incredible Mexican original.

For me, an avid fan of Mickle and Damici’s inspirations - notably the films of John Carpenter and the Coen brothers - Cold in July seems to have been tailor-made for genre fans. It features frequent jolting shifts in genre and tone that reflect the twisting neo-noir narrative; a trio of highly likable characters who each represent differing degrees of masculinity; a superbly squidgy electronic score (compliments to Jeff Grace); and one of the best-executed shoot-outs in recent memory. A VHS release would have cemented Cold in July’s cult status; after all, the film is set in the summer of 1989 and the protagonist sports a truly impressive mullet. The Blu-ray is fantastic, but seems almost anachronistic for a film such as this. Richard Dane (Hall), a discontented picture-framer, lives with his wife and son in Texas. One night he - to some extent accidentally - shoots an intruder dead in his home, prompting the intruder’s ex-con father (Shepard) to come looking for revenge. From then on, the film proceeds to throw curveball after curveball; I defy anyone to call this film predictable. You will have no idea what’s going to happen in ten minutes, let alone at the climax. On the surface, the film appears to be an exercise in mashing together as many ’80s genres as possible while telling the tale of one man’s search for his own masculinity, spurred on by finding himself in the company of two absolute pillars of machismo: the well-cast Sam Shepard and Don Johnson, who plays a larger-than-life private investigator-go-pig farmer. On closer examination, though, Cold in July is essentially a tale of fatherhood –Richard is trying to prove himself as an able father by taking heed from those around him. Aptly, Damici describes it as a “coming-of-age story for a 40-year old”. Cold in July was well liked, but not many would go so far as to name it the best film of 2014. All I can say is that I have watched this film at least ten times in a few months and I’m not even nearly bored with it yet. As soon as I hear White Lion’s 1987 glam anthem ‘Wait’ kick in over the end-credits, I’m instantly tempted to rewind and watch this wildly entertaining ’80s throwback again, and again, and... By Liam Hathaway Director: Jim Mickle Starring: Michael C. Hall, Sam Shepard, Vinessa Shaw

s Emmet (Pratt) wakes up to a brand-new day, he opens a pamphlet filled with instructions on how to live your life. From constantly watching the show ‘Where Are My Pants?’ to drinking overpriced coffee and even being told how to breathe, Emmet lives like everybody else: a repetitive daily cycle created by order and the strict organisation of the governing body. It’s impressive that a children’s film has such strong socio-political commentary, examining how society is easily controlled by a strict regimen of consumerism and distraction. It’s also somewhat puzzling that this is the essential theme of a film sponsored by the creators of one of the most successful children’s toys of all time.

All Emmet wants to do with his life is fit in and make friends with all he meets, which perhaps explains why he is dedicated to following the rigid instructions handed down from on high. Emmet’s life changes completely when he comes into contact with Wyldstyle (Banks), who takes him on a journey to prevent President Business (Ferrell) from taking complete control of the world. As the film progresses, Emmet starts to learn an important lesson: believe in yourself, for it is greater to stand out and use your imagination than to conform. It’s a fairly touching and, yes, educational message for the film’s younger viewers. While children will find amusement in the splendid visuals, light humour, and a heart-warming message, what exactly do adults get out of this? The cast is at least sure to make grown-ups smile. It features the voices of Morgan Freeman, Liam Neeson and Will Ferrell. This brilliant use of voice acting continues through numerous cameos, the best example being Anthony Daniels and Billy Dee Williams returning to their famous Star Wars roles of C-3PO and Lando. The film is also nostalgic for LEGO fans: included here are references to many long-forgotten LEGO brands to remind older viewers of the treasures they’ve packed away in the attic. For better or worse, The LEGO Movie also features a song that will refuse to leave your head for days (weeks, months, years…) and without losing too much of its spark over time. ‘Everything is Awesome’, says the film’s catchy theme. Or, at least, everything was awesome when you were a kid. And this is where The LEGO Movie succeeds where so many animated films fail, especially those without that magic word ‘Pixar’ attached: this is a film that has been carefully constructed to appeal to children, their parents and pretty much anyone else. It’s an incredible experience, and The LEGO Movie will stand out as one of the best animated films of the 21st century. Yes, it’s a little awkward to find an anti-consumerist subtext in a film ostensibly designed to sell toys. But when a film like this can instantly transport you back to your childhood, it’s hard to care.

By Sam Riley Directors: Phil Lord, Christopher Miller Starring: Chris Pratt, Elizabeth Banks, Will Ferrell

THE LEGO MOVIE

GONE GIRL

ased on the acclaimed novel by Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl was one of the most anticipated films of 2014: a suspenseful thriller about marital betrayal and murder, bristling with the type of slick, dark energy and ambiguity well-suited to the ever-reliable David Fincher. The story follows a pair of writers - Nick and Amy (Affleck and Pike) - as they meet, fall in love and marry. But then, on their fifth wedding anniversary, Amy vanishes. Abduction starts to look like murder, and Nick quickly becomes the prime suspect. Eventually things boil over in a second act twist that flips the audience’s perception of everything they’ve seen so far, and masterfully changes the direction of the plot. The film hinges on its excellent central performances. Affleck has always been a decent actor cursed with a habit of saying yes when he should have said no, and this is a reminder of how good he can be with the right script; he gives a credible, understated performance as a man whose world slowly falls apart around him as he is forced to confront the failures and resentments in his marriage. He and Pike have real chemistry, and despite the film’s occasional flashes of queasy, almost hallucinogenic horror and melodrama, their relationship will touch some very real, uncomfortable nerves with a lot of couples. Gone Girl essentially asks: how well can you truly know someone? And can love ever really be unconditional? The answers offered here are not especially comforting. Fincher’s direction is as solid as one might expect, with the film shrouded in the kind of claustrophobic tension that he excels in. A palpable sense of dread hangs over everything, compounded by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ appropriately sparse, chilly soundtrack, and a colour palette of muted greys, blacks and blues (courtesy of cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth, Fincher’s frequent collaborator). The film also offers timely commentary on modern alienation and the fickle sway of public opinion in the age of the media circus. Amy’s parents are also writers who have created a book series (‘Amazing Amy’) essentially starring a harshly idealised version of their daughter. Amy’s celebrity-by-association stirs up a media frenzy which threatens to bury Nick almost as much as the suspicion of murder itself. Gone Girl is, perhaps, slightly overlong and at times overindulgent – with its final few scenes feeling a little listless as things settle down to an ending - but it’s nevertheless an atmospheric, absorbing examination of identity, the modern obsession with celebrity, media witch-hunts and, ultimately, the intolerable cruelties of love.

By Nathan Scatcherd Director: David Fincher Starring: Ben Affleck, Rosamund Pike, Neil Patrick Harris

icture a woman teetering on the precipice of sanity; her husband has been dead for nearly seven years, having been killed in a car crash while driving her to the hospital to give birth. Now Amelia is depressed and lonely, left only with a son whom she blames for her husband’s death. Then the Babadook enters their lives after Amelia reads Samuel a children’s book, and he is far from a friendly presence.

To say that Jennifer Kent’s The Babadook is one of the best horror films of the year is to do it a great injustice, especially as one of the few independently produced horror films lucky enough to be given a wide release. Last year saw truly excellent films such as Starry Eyes, Late Phases and The Canal hit the festival circuit, but they will now silently slip to DVD and VOD services. Hardly anything ground-breaking has arisen from studio-sanctioned horror since 2012’s The Cabin in The Woods, so to see The Babadook’s nightmarishly intense originality find a wide release is to witness a shining gem in a heap dominated by Hollywood’s unimaginative rehashes of the same old stories. Given the fact that The Babadook makes use of the (currently in vogue) psychological ghost story, it could just as easily have become one of these rehashes were it not for its decidedly unconventional approach. Indeed,muchof the film’s charm comes from its dogged determination to go against the grain. Next to Hollywood’s unashamedly commercial, overwhelmingly vociferous fare, The Babadook appears a much darker, more subtle prospect. Whereas Hollywood’s ghost films boast young, attractive high-school teens, glossy production

values, fast-paced plots and neatly resolved endings, The Babadook features a mother nearing middle age and her six-year-old son, an almost handmade aesthetic quality, a slow-burn plot, and an ambiguous climax. The Babadook also differs from your typical contemporary ghost film in that its haunting has precedents not just in cinematic horror, but in the literary tradition of ghost stories. It recalls the writing of M.R. James in particular, whose tales revolve around a person discovering an object which summons a malevolent spirit. James’ stories are typified by an escalating sense of unease which climaxes with the protagonist finally coming face to face with their pursuer. Also akin to James’s style is the film’s handling of the Babadook itself, which is mostly left to the viewer’s imagination. We only get fleeting, almost subliminal glances of the monster. The Babadook is terrifying because we are forced to project our own fears onto the shadowy figure. What really sets the film apart is a dedication to darkness almost unheard of in popular horror. This darkness is bleak and nihilistic, physical and psychological. Amelia’s house is shrouded in it, a pitch-black nightmare realm of monsters and shadows which seem to stretch out for eternity. The house’s gloomy décor is also representative of the mire which resides in Amelia’s fragile mind, a mind possibly capable of rendering a storybook monster in reality. What is clear is that The Babadook is not just the best horror film of the year; it is one of the most unique, disturbingly imaginative cinematicvisions of 2014.

By Oliver Innocent Director: Jennifer Kent Starring: Essie Davis, Noah Wiseman, Tim Purcell

THE BABADOOK

X-MEN DAYS OF FUTURE PAST

ryan Singer had something to prove when it came to Days of Future Past: that the X-Men franchise could be salvaged from the wreckage of Brett Ratner’s The Last Stand. Last Stand wasn’t terrible, but as part of the original X-Men trilogy it didn’t have a shred of dignity. Killing off a stream of staple characters and destroying the fan-favourite ‘Phoenix Saga’ wasn’t the best idea in retrospect. The franchise had descended into a convoluted mess. First Class clawed something back but it never really matched the stellar standards of the franchise’s earlier entries. Days of Future Past was doomed to exist in the shadow of X2, still one of the greatest comic-book adaptations of all time. But, I’m pleased to say, Days of Future Past is the film fans have screamed for. It’s daring and takes chances you just don’t find in other films based on Marvel properties. There were two other huge Marvel films released this year: Captain America: The Winter Solider and Guardians of the Galaxy. Both existed in Marvel’s own cinematic universe and had their individual charms, but Days of Future Past exceeds them both. It tackles issues central to the X-Men, such as prejudice and discrimination, and dives into the socio-political themes of the comics; this is a film that is a real credit to its source material. Singer indulges in fan nostalgia for his earlier X-Men films while integrating First Class into the mix, seamlessly merging the two timelines together. He does this with obvious love and care, and reminds us that this is his franchise and his film; one that would have been difficult for anybody but Singer to realise. There is also a wonderfully dry humour here that wasn’t present

in the first three films; it’s an extension of a tonal shift first present in First Class. Added to this mix are some quite daring sequences - including one that sees Hugh Jackman completely naked - a few extremely violent death scenes and the use of much more explicit language than we’re used to in a 12A blockbuster. These touches make the film a more mature effort and more current than most other comic book adaptations. And, yes, the visuals deliver in spades. The opening sequence is outstanding and brutal. I almost found it difficult to catch a breath while salivating over the visual delight on screen. But it’s the scenes involving Quicksilver (Peters) that really steal the show. Perfectly realised in superslow motion, these scenes hark back to X2’s beautiful opening gambit. Aaron Taylor-Johnson is to play Quicksilver in Marvel’s Avengers: Age of Ultron, and he’s really going to have trouble living up to Peters’ flawless turn. There are some minor problems with the film, mostly arising from the fact that Singer is constantly having to patch plot holes created by Brett Ratner. However, this does lead to the return of some characters that Ratner left for dead, leaving open a potential return to the series’ roots. This means that the history of the X-Men franchise has essentially been re-written (or co-exists in an alternate timeline, similarly to J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek reboot). But, more importantly, it means that The Last Stand and the awful Wolverine films can finally be forgotten. With a sequel in the works, this franchise is moving on to bigger and better things.

By Joe Lister-Streep Director: Bryan Singer Starring: Hugh Jackman, Jennifer Lawrence, Michael Fassbender, James McAvoy

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imon Barret t began his career writing screenplays for wildly entertaining schlock with lurid titles like Dead Birds and Frankenfish. Adam Wingard started out working with screenwriter E.L. Katz (who would go on to direct one of the best genre films of last year in Cheap Thrills) on the experimental Pop Skull and the bloodthirsty Home Sick. Apart, Barrett and Wingard were instrumental in creating some inventive genre fare, but together they have become a two-man powerhouse of independent horror.

Barrett and Wingard’s writer-director partnership began with an intelligent reinvention of the serial-killer sub-genre in A Horrible Way to Die before they found their first popular success with You’re Next, a self-referential take on the homeinvasion film that sees a family assaulted by three men in the creepiest animal masks you’ve ever seen. The Guest is the closest they have yet come to a mainstream breakout and it, too, is a take on the home-invasion trope. But here terror doesn’t arise from the idea that a maniac in a mask might break in and axe-murder you during dinner; The Guest works slowly and methodically on the quietly horrifying notion that the person sitting on your sofa might be considering how to dispose of your body while you make them a cup of tea. The Peterson family’s serviceman son has recently been killed in action during a tour of Iraq. In the wake of his death, they are visited by a charming fellow soldier named David (Stevens), who claims to have made a promise to his fallen comrade to visit the Petersons and help them in any way he can during their darkest hour. The disarmingly all-American David is invited to stay. Of course, he isn’t what he seems, and his methods of ‘helping’ the family range from the mildly unorthodox to the murderously maniacal.

Much has been written about The Guest’s cinematic ancestry. Wingard claims the idea for the film came to him following a double bill of Halloween and The Terminator, while critics have pointed out connections to Universal Soldier and The Stepfather. All of these influences are evident in the film, and the final result is a glorious throwback to the ‘80s and ‘90s - a truly awesome tribute to the kind of genre-bending fare that secured millions of video rentals. But in truth The Guest’s influences stretch all the way back to 1927’s The Lodger, perhaps the first film in cinema history to play on the idea that someone staying under your own roof might be concealing a terrible secret. Much like David, The Guest is also not as harmless as it might first appear; its concerns with military corruption are strikingly reminiscent of Bob Clark’s Deathdream, one of the finest genre efforts of the 1970s. One of the few American horror films to confront the Vietnam War directly while it was still raging, Deathdream concerns a soldier who is shot dead by a Vietnamese sniper. Despite his apparent death, he comes home to his family in the middle of the night. He returns a ghoul - neither living nor dead - and soon starts to leave a body count in his wake. The Guest is Deathdream for post-9/11 America - a staunchly anti-militarist film that cleverly borrows genre tropes from horror, action and science-fiction to question the ethics of the War on Terror while providing a riotously good time in the process. The Guest will screen at IOAM on April 23rd.

By Craig Ian Mann Director: Adam Wingard Starring: Dan Stevens, Maika Monroe, Sheila Kelly

Cult Breakout 2014

THE GUEST

WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS 18

ot since we experienced ‘cranial blowout!’ in Peter Jackson’s Brain Dead has New Zealand had such a confident year in genre cinema than 2014. The past decade has seen Australasian horror discover a popular resurgence with Wolf Creek (and the inevitable sequel), the Reef and the incomparable Snowtown. 2014 marked a particularly strong year for the Kiwi horror-comedy, witnessing the festival success of Taika Waititi and Jermaine Clement’s What We Do in the Shadows and Gerald Johnstone’s Housebound. Unsurprisingly given the festival’s championing of horror mockumentaries in previous years (Vincent Lannoo’s Vampires, a mock-doc about a family of Belgian bloodsuckers, screened as part of the 2010 line-up) Sheffield’s own Celluloid Screams picked up WWDITS for their annual event last October - it romped home with the audience choice award. The film combines the comedic talents of Clement and Waititi; Clement is best known for being one half of the musical-comedy duo Flight of the Conchords, while Waititi is the acclaimed director of Boy and the Oscar-nominated Two Cars, One Night. Here, they play suburban vampires Vladislav (aged a mere 862 years) and Viago (379 years) respectively. They live with flatmates Deacon (the youngest at 183) and Petyr (8000), a character clearly influenced by Count Orlok of Nosferatu. The group club in Wellington by night to find their meals (though when you have to be invited inside, things get tricky) and hole up in their apartment by day. They haven’t quite adapted to modern life and don’t do well with technology. Things like Google (“Anything you want, type it in”) astound the flatmates (“I lost a really nice silk scarf around 1912”). WWDITS is a hilarious depiction of the downright mundanity of everyday (or everynight) life of the suburban undead. The group are truly awful vampires; not the sexy, dangerous creatures they imagine, but rather a hapless pack of misfits. They do retain some traditional characteristics: an aversion to sunlight, a lack of reflection (it’s hard co-ordinate your dress sense without it) and a taste for virgins’ blood (“If you’re going to eat a sandwich, you would just enjoy it more if you knew no one had fucked it”). But for the most part we watch the group squabble over domestic chores and rent. They actually do very little: a thinly veiled comment on the brainless reality-TV generation. At times they act like nothing more than frat boys. Their immature antics are summed up in an on-going spat with a local pack of werewolves and a scene that sees the vampires squabble amongst themselves; they transform into bats while Vlad excitedly exclaims “Bat Fight!” It is the film’s influences that make WWDITS work. The documentary aesthetic (the crew wear crucifixes at all times, just to be safe) and repeated pokes at reality TV are underpinned by an obvious passion for horror and the vampire film. It’s a sub-genre that has grown tired since the height of Twilight mania, but Waititi and Clement use the mockumentary mode to update the formula. They shape an original take on the vampire film that transcends parody and becomes one of the most enjoyable cinematic experiences of 2014. It’s definitely the most quotable.

By Rose Butler Directors: Jemaine Clement, Taika Waititi Starring: Jemaine Clement, Taika Waititi, Rhys Darby

an Gilroy’s Nightcrawler offers you a trip into a 21st century nightmare, one that is wrapped up in concerns surrounding surveillance culture, the on-going global recession and media manipulation. On the neon-drenched streets of Los Angeles, dollars are earned through blood and horror. Some gory footage of a mangled car crash or a raging house fire can lead to a hefty profit and a luxurious career in the news business. This is what Lou Bloom (Gyllenhaal) discovers one night while plying his trade as a thief, a new means of income that, it seems, might just be his calling in life: a path to recognition and the key to a star on the Walk of Fame. Bloom wants to see his name in lights; it doesn’t matter who has to die for that dream to come true.

At the film’s outset, Bloom is little but a street urchin with a car and some street smarts; he’s dangerous, ruthlessly ambitious and disarmingly polite. When he comes across Joe Loder (Paxton) filming the aftermath of a car wreck to sell to network television, Bloom seems star-struck, as if he has witnessed a divine miracle. He sets out with the goal of getting his own footage on TV, but his success provokes the emergence of his more sinister character traits. It isn’t until he begins to realise that his skills are rapidly progressing that the film shifts up a gear and we see a truly dark side to Bloom. He lures his victims with a boyish grin, but the base desires hidden beneath his strangely likeable veneers are twisted and maniacal; he archives his footage of sorrow and grief for his own gratification, and trades his skills for grotesque sexual favours. Needless to say, the latter half of the film makes for uncomfortable viewing. Bloom is defined by his own selfish motivations, which are shown most clearly in his interactions with other characters. Loder is a competitor with years of “nightcrawling experience”, Nina (Russo) opens the door for Bloom to ascend through the media ranks and Rick (Ahmed) is Bloom’s stuttering, passive but dedicated assistant who wants nothing more than a job that pays. All of them are left shattered physically and emotionally by Bloom’s meteoric rise. Nightcrawler is a tightly paced thriller that ramps up the tension as Bloom devours power and takes increasingly dangerous risks to advance his career. He moves from a petty burglar to a puppeteer who manipulates criminal evidence to suit his meticulously directorial approach to capturing incidents. He’d actually make a very good director, planning every shot in lurid detail. Whether he’s stalking around a mansion following a mass killing or waiting patiently for a gun-fight to break out, Bloom has a keen eye for framing and shot construction and boasts the ability to present dark and unsettling images in an artistic - almost beautiful - fashion. But the most impressive thing about the film is the metamorphosis of Gyllenhaal as an actor; he already has some impressive indie credibility to his name, with films such as Donnie Darko and Zodiac being the standouts on a glittering résumé. Nightcrawler, though, is the film that will take Gyllenhaal to the next level; a performance deserving of a cult following just as much as an Academy Award.

By Josh Senior Director: Dan Gilroy Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Nina Russo, Riz Ahmed

NIGHTCRAWLER

MAPS TO THE STARS

As the central character, she links all of the film’s other narrative threads together: she becomes sexually involved with Jerome and finds a job working for Havana, all the while attempting to reconnect with her family.

aps to the Stars is David Cronenberg’s first feature film to be shot - though not entirely - in Hollywood, and it couldn’t be a more scathing and venomous attack on the home of the American cinema. Based on the interwoven narratives of six protagonists, the film is a bleak satirical comment on ego and status in contemporary Hollywood, one which culminates in the perpetration of some of the darkest and most abhorrent crimes, including incest and murder.

The film follows three actors at different stages of their careers, all driven by the same ruthless narcissism. Jerome Fontana (Pattinson) is a limo-driver-go-actor who is a crude personification of the cliché that everyone in Hollywood is already in the business; they’re just ‘waiting for their break’. Benjie Weiss (Bird) is a juvenile actor already at the apex of the Hollywood mountain, but he remains an insecure, desperate child, driven by an egotistical need to be an even bigger star. Finally, Havana Segrand (Moore) is a neurotic, unbalanced actress whose star is falling. But Segrand will do anything to remain in the spotlight, regardless of the cost. Two of the other key players are depicted equally loathsomely: Benjie’s parents Christina (Williams) and Strafford Weiss (Cusack): respectively self-appointed agent and obsessively controlling mother, and self-help guru and quack father. They’re married, but they also happen to be siblings, a perverse secret that only further alienates them and adds to their negative portrayal.

Though Agatha herself is not exempt from the brutal behaviour of this insular world - see her final confrontation with Havana - she is the only character driven by anything other than selfishness. She is used by Jerome for screenplay inspiration, deals with the erratic, self-obsessed moods of Havana and endures constant rejection from her family, who actively resist allowing her to complicate their lives lest she interfere with Benjie’s all-important career. The ultimate tragedy of this story is that the downfall of each and every character is inevitable; even Agatha is destined for self-destruction. For Cronenberg, Hollywood is a machine that chews people up and spits out their battered remains. The film’s strengths arise from the performances of the entire ensemble and particularly from Julianne Moore, whose portrayal of Havana is so intense and, at times, frightening that she steals every scene she appears in. This is coupled with Cronenberg’s unmatchable ability to distort locations to create an alien environment that seems eerily familiar, but in truth is anything but. This is perhaps not Cronenberg’s masterpiece - his greatest works are now decades old - but for a director who has always worked outside of the mainstream, this is a swipe at Hollywood that is savage, brutal and, above all, disturbingly believable.

Agatha Weiss (Wasikowska) is, perhaps, the only vaguely likeable character: the long-lost Weiss daughter returning to California in an attempt to reunite with her dysfunctional clan.

By Jacob Munro Burton Director: David Cronenburg Starring: Julianne Moore, Mia Wasikowska, Robert Pattinson

apturing the creative process on film is a difficult task. To recreate every moment of inspiration or brief spark of creativity which forms any work of art would be impossible. To explore the artistic process fully a director would have to act as a literal shadow to the subject, following the artist endlessly throughout the creation of their work to record every interaction and event which eventually shapes the end result. Even the briefest of conversations with a passing stranger could ultimately affect the outcome, and if not caught on film then the record would be incomplete and untrue. So it is rather peculiar then that it is Lenny Abrahamson, an emerging Irish filmmaker, and not an established master of the medium who has found a way to create a credible and fully realised document of the creative process.

This is not to say that ‘band films’ have never been successful previously; Ondi Timoner’s DiG charts the trajectory of the band ‘The Brian Jonestown Massacre’ over several albums and details the highs and lows of the recording process, but as a documentary it is more focused on the man behind the music than the music itself. Alan Parker’s adaptation of Roddy Doyle’s novel The Commitments also concentrates on the tensions within the band rather than the music, which mainly serves as a background score. Frank, however, hides the creative entity within an oversized papier-mâché head, crafted to conceal the face of the musical genius who inhabits it.

Frank (Fassbender) is undoubtedly the star of the show: a figure of limitless creative ability who finds inspiration for ten songs effortlessly. However, the exploration of how he processes this inspiration forms the most enjoyable element of the film. The audience is exposed to the world of Frank gradually through the perspective of Jon (Gleeson), a nervous and lonely figure desperate for his musical output to match his ambitious vision. The relationship between the two characters forms the centre of the film as they influence each other, growing both musically and as people. Where The Commitments focused intensely on the human aspect, Frank simply uses it as a building block to depict the creation of art. At its core, Frank is a film about music and an elegant touch lies in the structure, one which plays on the creative arcs of numerous real-life bands. The first act is scrappy and primitive, the lively debut album announcing the arrival of a new talent. Here, much of the action takes place in small towns, on the road and in social clubs where the band plays to fewer than ten people. Frank then progresses to the cerebral sophomore album, delivering in abundance the musical talent that has only been suggested previously. The last third of the film stands out as the darkest; Frank’s mental illness becomes more prominent and the previous mood of childlike wonder is replaced by intense introspection. These distinctive sections could seem jarring to some and those who enjoy the second act may despise the third and vice versa. However, isn’t “I preferred their earlier work” now a staple phrase in the discussion of music?

By Kris Thomas Director: Lenny Abrahamson Starring: Domhnall Gleeson, Michael Fassbender, Maggie Gyllenhaal

FRANK

STRANGER BY THE LAKE

nfidelity is a life-wrecker. We all know that. Even if we don’t know it from personal experience, we’ve seen enough movies to know that polygamy inspires jealousy on the level of a cargo train driving headlong into the senses. Repeatedly. But promiscuity? Promiscuity has a life-wrecking pedigree too, even in the realm of the single: why get tied down when freedom requires about six double vodka-mixers, a touch of charisma, and the ability to avoid ever speaking to someone again? What could possibly go wrong?

Like it or not, sex inspires feelings, and most of them are guaranteed to make a mess of any short-sightedly debonair lifestyle. You don’t need movies to tell you that because you’re likely to have been affected by promiscuity in one way or another yourself. If not, good for you. Check out Alain Guiraudie’s phenomenal erotic thriller Stranger by the Lake and see what you’re missing. Trade in the vodkas for a gay cruising spot by an idyllic, sun-soaked lake and you’re there. This setting becomes the impetus and metaphor for libertinism, as even after its central murder takes place Claire Mathon’s incredible cinematography never lets the air of sexuality lift for even a second. This is partly why, even after Franck (Deladonchamps) watches Michel (Pauo) drown his current lover in the titular lake, he can’t resist becoming involved with him sexually and – of course – emotionally.

produces a conflicted and difficult relationship. We never discover why Michel murders his first lover. All we get is an extreme long shot lasting exactly three minutes, seen entirely from Franck’s perspective. Once they initiate their liaison, however, unbearable tension is generated through our knowledge (and Franck’s) that subsequent murder is not only possible, but frighteningly probable. As a result, the movie is consistently impossible to look away from. Each consummately constructed shot contributes to a moving and captivating experience. But, aside from the darkness undercutting the beautiful visuals, Stranger by the Lake is also powered by its sex scenes, which explore carnal abandon and show it to be at once impulsively alluring and horrifically destructive. This isn’t exploitation: this is an erotically-charged thriller with the boldness of De Palma and the finesse of his idol, Hitchcock. It’s also more minimalistic than the work of either, and while that proves a substantial ingredient, it’s the by-product of a simple story that requires little embellishment. It’s refreshing to see so much being done with so little when quite often the opposite is the case. Stranger by the Lake is entirely relevant to our times, a parable about blindly binging on sex that’s ostensibly casual, but inevitably causal.

By Liam Ball

Franck’s prior interest in sex is purely sporting. He wanders the lake’s neighbouring forest in search of company, as does everyone else. But laying eyes on Michel’s enviable visage just once sets him on a different mission, one that

Director: Alain Guiraudie Starring: Pierre Deladonchamps, Christophe Paou, Patrick d’Assumçao