Showing posts with label Quentin Tarantino. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Quentin Tarantino. Show all posts

Friday, October 02, 2015

Crashing into The Green Inferno

Click image to enlarge
The Green Inferno (2013)
Dir: Eli Roth
TC4P Rating: 5

I felt kind of dirty going into the theatre to watch The Green Inferno yesterday. Sure, it was in the multiplex down the road, and The Green Inferno is meant to do ticket business there like any other movie. And the ticket girl didn't even bat an eye when I said "One for The Green Inferno, please" (pretty much as if I was a cartoon penguin buying a Sprite). Not even a flinch or a cringe or a disapproving shake of her head, just "And do you have a Regal Crown Club Card?" (Which I did...)

And The Green Inferno is certainly not a porn movie, even though I have read a couple of reviews that questioned the viability of the R rating given to it by the MPAA. But I still felt like a raincoater; sneaking off to see a movie of questionable moral virtue in the middle of the afternoon, low-keying my actions, not telling the wife I was going to go see it that day (though I had expressed my intentions to go to it at some point). My purposes yesterday were to get out to have some lunch, work on some notes, and see a movie that fit in with my Countdown to Halloween drive for October. But I just felt dirty... a lone guy buying a ticket to go sit alone (most likely) in a theatre to watch extreme gore, nudity, and people being eaten by native tribespeople.


Luckily, I was not alone. There was a couple sitting in the back of the postage stamp box doing who knows what in addition to eating popcorn. I took my customary first row, middle seat in the stairs section (the area with the handy bars) that we have all grown used to since the old style of movie theatre days. I had a nice cool water in hand, and that stupid pre-movie ad section with supposedly "special" behind-the-scenes sneak previews junk was running on the screen. But, even after the regular trailers came and went, I still felt a bit weird about the experience. 

However, once the movie started, that mood went away, and another one started... and it was... confusion?

I have a hard time settling Eli Roth in my mind. Just who is he? I have seen three of his main feature films to this date on the big screen (Cabin Fever, Hostel, and this one; I waited for DVD for Hostel 2, a wise choice). I enjoyed huge sections and much of the dialogue of Cabin Fever, but really hated the wandering tone of the thing. I liked Hostel much better as a straight on horror flick, and that was where I thought, "He's going to do something amazing soon." I adore his fake Thanksgiving trailer in Grindhouse (how I wish he would have delivered on that). But I found Hostel 2 really just... OK. It tried to push the Hostel series a bit further, but really came off as a lesser cousin. (The less said the better about Part III, in which he was not involved at all.) 

And then, except for the acting thing (a prominent appearance as "The Bear Jew" in Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds and a few cameos) and his name popping as an executive producer and writer here and there (the underwhelming The Man with the Iron Fists), he sort of laid low for a while. At least in my purview. And my perception of him, and perhaps quite wrongly, is that he was going to be horror's Tarantino. My perception was that, like his famous friends Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, he was able to take something tired and worn out, throw it in a mixmaster, toss in some other scattered influences and some sharp dialogue, and bring us something shiny and exciting. Something that had a new movie smell even if, at its core, we were really just seeing a very clever remix attuned to our now more ironic sense of genre and the world.

My feeling was that because Roth had been included in with the Grindhouse boys' club of Tarantino, Rodriguez, Rob Zombie, and Edgar Wright, it was a sign he was the real deal, and was just about to steer horror to incredible new heights. But that didn't happen. Other filmmakers have come along in the past few years and have brought that same promise to the genre. 
And now in The Green Inferno, while the film is bright, bloody and visceral as hell, and really gets in your face with its horror sequences, I feel it is a serious step backwards in Eli Roth's development.

The prime culprit is his scattershot screenplay, with some very cynical and confused politics at its core that never come off as believable for a second. An impressionable college girl (Lorenza Izzo) follows a charismatic douchebag to the Peruvian jungle to save some trees from ruthless and greedy land developers. Her crime (and that of her fellow students) is merely that she was really not well informed enough about her supposed cause, and has now jumped into an extremely dangerous setting far beyond what they imagined. I won't disagree that this is fine as a set-up -- the world is certainly full of college students following endless causes du jour -- but when Roth reveals his take on the connection between the developers and those battling them, I nearly spat water across the room. 

When you laugh at loud in the theatre at lines which I assume were meant as profundities, that's a problem. Another problem is spending half your time laughing at the film, and the other half laughing with it. Yes, there are some genuinely funny lines here and there in the film, but is The Green Inferno meant to be a comedy? If it is, it is a truly sick one, considering that not only is the subject of female genital mutilation broached in one of the college classes in the film's opening, but the subject rises again much later on in the jungle. I was not offended by it (exceedingly hard to do that for this boy), but was merely confused as to the filmmaker's intentions. [And the filmmaker's intentions were apparently to marry the girl, because he and starlet Izzo wed not long after the production of the film. Some crazy sort of Stockholm Syndrome thing at work here?]

Obfuscating the issue even more are the diarrhea sequence (the instance starts as serious but is clearly played for laughs), Alejandro's masturbation scene (which I thought was hilarious when someone starts to choke him to make him stop, as he just gets off even more from that), and a scene when the survivors stuff one of their friends' corpses with marijuana to get the natives high. The scene is absolutely meant as comic relief after the torture and death we have seen, but is done so broadly (natives just falling flat out of their tree perches onto their faces), it rather took me out of the movie for a few minutes. They should have just played Low Rider on the soundtrack.

The gorier scenes in the movie are exceedingly well done. The plane crash sequence is both thrilling and shocking, mostly because you know not everyone is going to make it, and waiting to see how the cast will get pared down adds excitement. Since nearly all of the college students in the plane, save one, are pretty much shown to be callow idiots from the start, having just one survive would be a bonus for me. Unfortunately, some will make it, but that's alright... you need someone for the cannibals to dine on in later scenes. Those sequences, especially the complete dismemberment, cooking, and devouring of one character, are astounding. 

Not so successful is the scene where a victim is tied to a stake (after his knees have been smashed in) so that CGI ants can run amok all over his body. Also not successful are Roth's inclusion of a very cheesy dream sequence late in the film, which leads to an even cheesier tag which points to a possible sequel. While I generally hate dream sequences in most cases, I wouldn't object to the tag if it made sense within the reality of the film, but all it does is come off as crass and outright dumb. It made me flip off the screen.

As an acknowledged tribute to Italian cannibal films from the '70s and '80s, The Green Inferno is savage enough to certainly show it fits in with the crowd. The end credits even list about 15 of the major films in the genre to help inform the public. Those same credits finish with the words "Per Ruggero," referencing (I assume) Italian horror director, Ruggero Deodato, who helmed the "masterpiece" of the genre, Cannibal Holocaust (1980). I have seen many of the listed films, and while I am not necessarily a fan of them or the genre, unlike the college girl in the movie, I knew exactly what I was in for when I stepped into this jungle. 

The movie does deliver on its promise of gory thrills, so if that is your sort of thing, you will enjoy this. Just don't try to examine it beyond that, and you might get out alive. Me, I needed a shower. Still felt a little dirty.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Dis-Rik of Columbia? (Pt. 2)

[Continued from Pt. 1, which you can read here.]

I am now faced with this dilemma: Having just decided to finally take a stab at the Super Cheap DVD Offer, what could I possibly find to order from a company that seems to only specialize in doling out mainstream entertainment choices?

I'm not saying that my tastes are in any way special. I am no different than anyone else in this aspect: I like what I like, and that is all. I enjoy films of all varieties, no matter where my brow happens to be set, high or low. (Yes, even if my tastes can get a little arty at times, I am always leveled out by the fact that I am a fan of monster movies. You can make a case that they are a metaphor for this-or-that, blah-blah-blah, etcetera, etcetera, and some of the better ones might be exactly that, but deep down at the core of things, they are merely monster movies. Even if ninety percent of them are complete garbage, I still love them. I watch them like frustrated housewives used to read Barbara Cartland and Harlequin novels. They would be my prime guilty pleasure if I ever held or displayed any guilt over them. Which I don't.)

For the record, I have favorite movies in just about any genre. I am partial to silent films (especially Keaton, Chaplin, Lloyd, and Murnau), team and romantic comedy of the 1930s, real and fake film noir, Orson Welles, Fritz Lang, Michael Powell, Howard Hawks, Richard Lester, Stanley Kubrick, Anthony Mann, John Sturges, Sergio Leone westerns, pre-1970 animation from just about any studio, horror and sci-fi (no matter how schlocky), Flynn, Power, Fairbanks and Lancaster swashbucklers, and Astaire, Kaye and Kelly musicals. I will watch anything by Hitchcock and Bergman. Currently, I love Lynch, Cronenberg, Coppola, Burton, Linklater, Lee, and del Toro. I think Tarantino is simultaneously sad, annoying, hilarious and brilliant, and I think Robert Rodriguez is fun, erratic, and insane in both mind and talent.

I will own up to a small measure of pride in the fact that I have a little bit more of a sense of film history than most people that I have met, and you can call this film-nerdy if you wish (because it is) and egotistical (which it would be if this obsession had ever gotten me anywhere), but that always comes any time that you properly immerse yourself in a subject so thoroughly. I get angry when people say how original a film is when they don't realize it's a remake or an homage to a style of the past, or say a film is a rip-off from something else when in reality the source material for the current film was written years before the film they are defending, or say something off-handedly dismissive about an actor or film without having any real knowledge to back them up.

And the worst thing that a film can be? B-O-R-I-N-G. Bo... ring. This is the true Hollywood crime (outside of bad CGI). Not the low-budget, Ed Wood-type B-movies that everyone loves to gang up on. (I will always defend them because they are sad and misbegotten little treasures that are fascinating to watch.) Great-to-very good films (as well as truly wretched ones) live on in the mind, but boring films serve no real purpose except as time filler. The worst films in the world are the ones that you forget two days later, the ones that leave your head as swiftly as you can stumble out of the darkness of the theatre, the ones that make you go "It was oh-kayyy..." 


You know... the ones that make up the bulk of DVD choices in the Columbia House Offer.

So, go ahead and call me a film geek and/or snob. You've got me pegged, and I have been called far worse. But, now maybe you might understand a little more why simply choosing six films from a list of 200 is so troubling for me. Now, let's move back to the dilemma at hand: What films could I have possibly chosen from this list?

As it turned out, I actually chose around 20 films from the list. Since I left behind about 75% of my prerecorded VHS collection before I moved (I traded them off for credit), I have many noticeable gaps in my film library now, and I thought this would be a perfect way to amend that situation. I had gotten rid of my copies of The Usual Suspects, The Godfather, The Godfather Part II, Batman, and Dazed and Confused, and here they were in glorious widescreen, all of them begging me to make them my first choice. But because I have not been regularly purchasing films for about a year, there were other more recent wonders to fish out from the depths of this list. Spider-Man 2, School of Rock, Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, Big Fish, Once Upon A Time in Mexico, Blade II, and Hellboy all were definitely going to find their way into my collection at some point. So, why not now? Likewise, despite a handful of flaws that drove me to distraction, The Last Samurai, The Aviator and the remake of Dawn of the Dead seemed interesting additions to the library. And for shits and giggles, Cheech and Chong's Up in Smoke and The Spongebob Squarepants Movie made the short list.

And that was it. The rest could languish in DVD hell for all that I cared. I could easily tell that while I would have no problem fulfilling my commitment to the project, I would also not be so readily tempted as one might think by my being such a video freak. (Of course, the resolution to all of this will have to wait until I actually try to finishing off my obligation.)

So, choosing six films from the under twenty that remained would be easy, but there was something else looming in the works that would tempt me: an offer to reduce my commitment from 3 DVDs to only 2 if I were to purchase a 7th DVD for only $9.99. Done. And, hey! You can also buy an 8th DVD for only $9.99 (though it would not affect your commitment). Done and done. So, 8 films to choose (they turned out to be the Godfathers, Spongebob, Sky Captain, Blade II, School of Rock, Suspects and Spidey 2), and I will be getting them, after tacking on the shipping and handling charges, for around 25 dollars total. Three dollars a film.

Three bucks a film! Slowly, I turned... suddenly, my head filled with thoughts of secret identities and all manner of fakery where I could continue this deal forever. But I only think those thoughts: I never have the cojones or duplicity within me to actually carry something like that off. No, I will pay my $25 and get my movies, buy two more films over the next two years (which I'm sure I will finish off in about a month), and be done with it.

Or will I...?

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