Chernobyl Diaries

We humans tend to get off on things that get our adrenaline pumping. Some of us watch horror movies for that reason, others do bungee jumping, and then there are the people (typically ditzy Americans, according to your cookie-cutter horror flick) who seek the thrill of a little more real, imminent and glamourous danger by venturing into the realm of extreme tourism.

In Chernobyl Diaries, a group of three Americans — Chris, his girlfriend Natalie and their mutual friend Amanda — tour around Europe. They end up visiting Chris’ slightly douchey brother in the Ukraine who then convinces the bunch to hire a tour guide to take them to Pripyat, an abandoned city on the outskirts of Chernobyl where the workers of the infamous nuclear reactor used to reside. The vacationers, who are joined by another couple before they set off, soon realise that the place might not be so abandoned after all, and the potentially chillingly fun trip turns into a lethal clusterfuck.

Although I do see why one could take issue with Chernobyl Diaries or just plain dislike it, I disagree with the vast majority of reviewers I’ve come across who absolutely tear the film apart and barely have one star to spare. The acting is okay. A bit flat, but we’ve all seen worse in a genre that doesn’t leave a lot of room for character development or hard-hitting dialogues, and I think Jesse McCartney in particular did a surprisingly great job. The jump scares are few and effective without being overtly cheap. (Hold out for the bear scene – granted, it is hilariously random, but that one killed me.) I like the cinematography, too. The shaky camera gives the film an ominous, found footage vibe, which I think works well with the story and adds to the tension.

My biggest but ultimately baseless worry from start to finish was the film’s premise. If you choose to capitalise on the world’s worst nuclear accident to date by using its consequences as a means to build your plot, it goes without saying that the execution should be tasteful, and from the way I see it, the makers of Chernobyl Diaries largely managed to avoid the myriad of traps and hazards that come with the territory. This is worth applauding and already more than I would expect of any sci-fi horror flick. Trust me, I’ve seen tacky, and this one doesn’t pass the test.

Still, I acknowledge that the film has its faults, the most irritating being the ending. It’s improbable, hasty and strangely out of place. Instead of keeping it classy and heightening the ultimate suspense and scare factor by using an open ending, they tried to squeeze in an explanation for the obtuse plebeians in the back seats who might not have caught the obvious. (There are more minor examples of this borderline condescending attitude towards the audience sprinkled throughout the film.) I really wish they would’ve just thrown the last 10 minutes out of the final cut.

I didn’t find out that Oren Peli is responsible for the story and screenplay until after I’d watched the film, and as a big fan of the first Paranormal Activity (the fifth installment of the tired franchise is set to be released later this year, by the by), I do have to say that this one is relatively weak in comparison. But I recognised Peli’s penchant for suggesting the horrifying rather than showing it, which I deem the single most effective formula in horror.

In conclusion, if you go into this movie expecting an illuminating commentary on or analysis of the Chernobyl disaster and its impacts, you will be sorely disappointed. The same is true if you go into it hoping for originality and innovation. If you go into it with a willingness to be entertained and creeped out for a majority of its 86 minutes runtime, however, you have a good chance of getting your money’s worth. Chernobyl Diaries isn’t groundbreaking or “the best” in any regard, but it makes for a thoroughly solid horror experience.

Blood, Boobs & Beast

For many of us, it takes a hard slap in the face to wake up from our state of complacency and acknowledge that we’re not living life as fully as we could. Life gave it to Don Dohler in form of a shotgun pointed at his head on his 30th birthday. He was sitting at his desk at his office job that he had worked for years, thinking it would be just another day filled with routine – instead, he gained a new outlook on life and the incentive to make a serious attempt at realising his dreams. Following his near-death experience, the mellow Baltimore native decided to make his first feature length film, and not too long after he’d managed to acquire enough money from local investors, the sci-fi/horror B-movie that would later become a staple of late night TV called The Alien Factor saw the light of day.

Blood, Boobs & Beast is an affectionate portrait of Dohler directed by John Paul Kinhart, showing interview and on-set footage that was filmed over the course of about 2 years. Dohler, who, in spite of the mixed reviews he received, got all of his films distributed internationally and even made it on national TV working on a shoestring budget, inspired a range of artists and filmmakers after him. He had garnered a cult following of devoted fans over the years, two of which were interviewed for the documentary. But despite all of his underground popularity, Dohler couldn’t have been further from the rockstar aesthetic or aura: the conservative, timid man sporting the classic side part and whose all-time favourite movie was West Side Story seemed just like one of the neighbourhood dads you see waiting in line every day to pick up their kids from school. Peculiarly enough, his endearing average Joe-ness might have been exactly what made him fascinating.

——————————————————————————

“Independent film is not only an oxymoron; it doesn’t exist anymore.” – Martha Plimpton

Ever since I can remember I’ve felt that I am different from most of the people who surround me, especially when it comes to art: music, film and literature. During the pre-Internet times (yes, there was such a time) I often felt misunderstood and alienated because a lot of people, family members and friends thought that “being different” was some kind of destructive rebellion phase with the motive of hating everything ”normal” and being attracted to the “abnormal”. This felt strange because I am not the kind of person who hates stuff. In my opinion, you have to have loved or at least had a connection with something/someone in order to feel hate or anger. I just do not care about a lot of things and normality most of the time doesn’t appeal to me. This indifference isn’t based on intolerance of trivial entertainment but simply reflects my dissatisfaction towards socially standardized and corrupted mainstream art.

As a child and later on in my teenage years, I became interested in writing scripts and even did some filming with my dad’s camera, but in the end I was already too influenced by mainstream media and instead of doing my thing I quit because my definition of cinema stood in complete contrast to the mainstream productions. At that age, I simply couldn’t imagine that there were people who were fascinated by (creating) no-budget films.

In the mid/late 1990s, a young man called Robert Rodriguez wrote a book called Rebel without a Crew: Or How a 23-Year-Old filmmaker With $7,000 Became a Hollywood Player. He describes his own remarkable story, the unique and original strategies/techniques he used to make his low-budget debut El Mariachi.

After I read this book I realized that quitting the writing and filming was one of the worst decisions I had ever made. So I began to read even more, watched genre movies, documentaries, how-to videos and I even started writing again. Having done so for over 10 years now doesn’t make me a semi-professional writer or director but what I realized is that there isn’t a need to become one as long as I am happy with what I do.

And that’s exactly what Blood, Boobs & Beast tries to show. The movie doesn’t try to convert anyone, because if you aren’t a fan of cult B or C cinema already, you won’t become one after you have seen BBB, neither is it an instruction guide to not giving a fuck about people who make films for profit. Personally, I think the documentary is full of pieces of wisdom and delivers a perfect insight into the life of a man who thinks differently and for whom filmmaking does not necessarily correlate with the idea of making money.

“A determined soul will do more with a rusty monkey wrench than a loafer will accomplish with all the tools in a machine shop.” – Robert Hughes

I have been a fan of DIY (crust) punk and oldschool Black Metal for years. I am not particularly interested in the topics those genres often deal with but what I can say is that I have a passion for dedicated and honest people who try to remain true to themselves and their values, and the same goes for movies. In fact, DIY music and cinema are not an excuse for lack of talent and money but rather a way of life and an innovative form of expression. With Blood, Boobs & Beast, Kinhart draws a prime example of an indie back-garden movie maker who didn’t like Hollywood and returned to where he belongs in order to make his own stuff. Another fascinating aspect of the documentary is the director’s ability to put the viewer in the time, place and context in which Dohler’s films were made.

Beside this passion, ebullience and idealism there is something else which makes me feel comfortable in this wonderful world of creative underground horror: the social cohesion which instantly creates a familial atmosphere. After having watched the documentary for the 3rd time now, I still feel like I am part of the Dohler family. Something deep within me tells me that I have known this man for years even though I never got the chance to meet him.

If this documentary has a message it is the following one: if you are interested in doing movies, grab a camera and get started but do it with heart and be ambitious because in the end there will always be people who respect you for what you do. Be an inspiration to people like the younger me.

Dear Mrs Plimpton,

You couldn’t be more wrong.

Sincerely yours,

-Luc-

——————————————————————————

Unlike Luc, I don’t consider myself a film geek or connoisseur by any means and I never caught the filmmaking bug, but the story and career of Don Dohler inspired me all the same. Here we have someone who worked on basically nothing (The Alien Factor was partly shot in his family’s backyard and featured several family members in the cast, for instance) and still achieved great things with passion and a creative, supportive entourage. When he grew weary of the “BBB” formula and the increasingly exploitative nature of the films he created with his business partner Joe Ripple, instead of lingering on and continuing to do work that he couldn’t support with conviction anymore, he was honest enough to step away from film for a while and focus on things that were more important to him.

Beyond the central theme of filmmaking on the cheap, Blood, Boobs & Beast made me think about what it means to publicly scrutinise the product that emerges from the process. Personally, I do reviews because I like writing, but I wouldn’t say that I am passionate about the reviewing aspect of it. The idea of being downright passionate about judging things as opposed to creating them seems sad to me, for one, and there are instances when it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth because I am perplexed by how vitriolic and contemptuous I can get when I write about art that I detest and that represents values I disagree with. On one side, this seems inevitable. In order to successfully take on the role of a critic, it is crucial for me to speak from a place of unabashed honesty, and if I happen to loathe the subject with every fibre of my being, then so be it. The other and slightly disturbing side of the story, however, is that I am attacking something that doesn’t actively hurt anybody in a lot of cases and that a second person with differing life experiences might very well consider a masterpiece.

I think it’s important to keep in mind that at the end of the day, nobody goes into making a film with the ulterior motive of releasing a piece of shit. They might take the simple route by going for cheap shock value or applying lazy, age-old guidelines and clichés (Cracked’s Trailer For Every Oscar-Winning Movie Ever comes to mind), but there invariably is some degree of work involved – more work than it takes to write 600 words on why the result sucks. Criticising art and analysing it from many different perspectives is necessary, being biting is fine, but it should always be done with an undercurrent of compassion and respect for the creators’ efforts. There are times when I feel personally insulted by an exceedingly bad movie experience – I feel robbed of my time and money and condescended to – and when I review said movies shortly after and those feelings are still fresh, my disdain and frustration show through much more vehemently than they would if I took counsel with my pillow and wrote about them the next day. It is true that there are horrible films out there that deserve the scathing reviews they get, but even behind perceived cinematic bowel movements, there were people who sat down at one point, thought about the concept extensively and jumped through all the hoops required to create and finally sell their product. Chances are that much blood, sweat and tears went into a movie the audiences deem complete and utter trash, and even though that doesn’t make it any better on a technical level or less problematic in its treatment of a topic, I find that it creates a foundation of respect for those who made it, which makes a considerable difference in the way we speak and think of something.

Blood, Boobs & Beast served as a gentle reminder of this fact by humanising and shedding light on the creative process of a filmmaker whose low-budget works polarised the critics and some of which I would admittedly be quick to dismiss if I hadn’t seen this documentary prior, and that is perhaps the most important insight I, as someone who occasionally reviews other people’s art, was able to take away from it. The goal is not to butter anyone up or assign them an A for effort when we perceive their work to be mediocre at best and ludicrous at worst. On the contrary. Reviewers should strive to be honest over anything else, but that by no means excludes treating the makers and their creation with dignity – firmly, sure, but with dignity – because the ultimate truth is that we’re dealing with people who had the courage to bring something to the world that wasn’t there before.

~ Anna ~

——————————————————————————

A big thank you to Troma Entertainment, the distributor of Blood, Boobs & Beast, which uploaded the full-length documentary on their YouTube channel. This film is a must-see not only for fans of the genre.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-CSIFoqJD4&feature=youtu.be]

Close Your Eyes – Empty Hands And Heavy Hearts


Today I want to do something slightly different by asking you a question: has it ever happened to you that you listened to a record when it first came out, dismissed it because you didn’t like it; then a couple of years later you randomly gave it another listen and you ended up loving it? Well that’s exactly what happened to me earlier this month with Close Your Eyes‘ Empty Hands And Heavy Hearts from 2011!

Their music is a very melodic type of hardcore with some small hints of pop-punk, which were more pre-dominant on the predecessor We Will Overcome. The instrumental department leaves nothing to wish for, especially the drums were the thing that sucked me back in when I re-listened to the twelve songs. The melodic guitar-work rounds the whole package off nicely, but the major (re-)selling point for me is…in the next paragraph.

If you’ve read one or two reviews of mine you know that I generally pay attention to the lyrics in music and, more often than not, find similarities between the words and my own life. And even though the band is of Christian belief, which I am not, I managed to identify with a lot of their songs’ meanings. The fact that their singer’s voice is highly enjoyable obviously makes it even easier to like.

To sum things up: this review isn’t really about the record itself but rather me telling you that sometimes it’s worth giving something you dismissed at first another chance. So go through your music collection and give that one album you never really got into another go…you might experience the same thing I did. For more info, you can find the band on Facebook and listen to their song below.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkpYTU7bg38]

The Dillinger Escape Plan – One Of Us Is The Killer

What’s the sense of Parental Advisory stickers, nowadays? I mean, seriously; is cussing really that kind of big deal to society? Wouldn’t you prefer to hear your beloved daughter cursing in pain than seeing her preggers?

One of us is the killer by The Dillinger Escape Plan is the cursing therapy against all odds. But one should still rethink the concept of the Parental Advisory campaign. In my honest opinion, health warnings adorning future Dillinger Escape Plan releases would make more sense to me. Quotes like the following would be more appropriate:

  1. “Do not listen to this album if you suffer from ADHD. You will explode and die.”
  2. “Do not listen to this album if you suffer from Parkinsons. Fukushima was bad enough and you will die.”
  3. “Do not listen to this album if you have Diabetes. You’re going to die anyway.”

See, it’s not my main goal to analyze and describe each track of this album as that is beyond my writing and rhetorical capacities. The Dillinger Escape Plan are pure madness. Always were, always will be. Not music for wimps. Chaotic to the max and quite challenging to be listened from first to last track. But it’s mad fun! Almost as enjoyable as riding a steroid-pumped mechanical bull.

If it was my purpose to describe the band and the music they create I had one special example. It is no secret that music styles like Djent are the big deal right now. Just imagine Djent as the single player campaign in a shooter game. You enjoyed the whole experience and brag about your achievements until you dare to play the multiplayer modus for the first time. One of us is the killer is the multiplayer platform. You see your whole world tumbling into decadence. Everything you knew until then was a lie. You will see and hear things you never thought existed (*cough* Lemonparty *cough*). Just like a trainwreck, One of us is a killer is cruel but you cannot look away.

Did I say anything relevant about the album? I sure didn’t. Did I make you curious, though? I sure hope so!

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X01H4icz5aU]

Suay Laak Sai (Sick Nurses)

Eric “recommended” Suay Laak Sai (Sick Nurses) to me because of a gory GIF he discovered on tumblr (R.I.P.). As I can count all Thai (horror) movies I have ever seen on one hand, I had absolutely no idea what to expect. So, before getting too excited, I just didn’t expect anything which was a good idea because Sick Nurses is really bad and I don’t understand why it still gets that many positive reviews from other bloggers!

The Film was written/directed by Piraphan Laoyont and Thodsapol Siriwiwat and produced by Prachya Pinkaew, director and producer of Ong-Bak. As so often with Asian horror (trash) movies, the fundamental idea is quite interesting but the visual implementation is antic.

The film takes place in a suburban Thai hospital, where Dr. Tar and his seven nurses sell dead bodies on the black market. As one of the nurses finds out that her sister is having an affair with her boyfriend (Dr. Tar), she threatens to call the police to blow their cover. The doctor and the 6 nurses decide to kill her and to keep the body cooled to make sure that it can be sold in the near future. And now, guess who is coming back to haunt the hospital crew in order to take vengeance?

Sick Nurses is a postmortal revenge movie which tries to sell/promote itself by suggesting some sex and showing one or two ok-ish gore scenes. I don’t recall how many times I’ve already said it but if you are not able to make a good film, you at least should hire some girls who will do nude scenes. This is in no way meant to be sexist but putting annoying Thai girls in sexy nurse costumes, showing some ass close-up views and kissing stuff but at the same time letting your actress shower in her clothes is a bit awkward, unimaginative and uncreative.

Uncreative is possibly the best adjective to describe the whole film and I had the feeling that the directors didn’t even try to implement their own ideas. In addition, the story doesn’t feel coherent at all. I would say that I recognize the directors’ intention to combine a postmortal ghost story à la Ringu and Ju-on with weird postmodern punk movie elements like in Tokyo Gore Police & co. Unfortunately, the result is a failed attempt since you have the feeling of watching two separate storylines that never really intersect. Not to forget the movie mistakes, the really bad acting and other obvious movie no-gos. Sick Nurses was done without passion, don’t waste your time.

Anamanaguchi – Endless Fantasy


Last week has been a big week for “electronic” music, at least in my book. Daft Punk pre-streamed their new album and Anamanaguchi released their new Endless Fantasy. While I was slightly underwhelmed by the former, the latter entirely blew me away…but let me introduce you to the band first. Anamanaguchi are an American quartet that are unarguably among the biggest of the chiptune genre. For those of you that are not familiar with this type of music: it’s basically music that is created with old consoles like the Nintendo Entertainment System or the Game Boy. What differentiates these guys from the mass however is that they are, what they like to call themselves, a regular band with a NES as a singer.

The main reason why their music fascinates me as much as it does is because it raises strong nostalgic feelings in me. I am completely thrown back into my childhood of playing Nintendo or Super Nintendo and having the greatest time ever with the bits and bytes. But I am convinced that even people that do not have similar memories will be able to enjoy this record. Simply because it’s amazingly well composed and the “danceability” is extremely high, even for pillars of salt when it comes to dancing like myself.

Compared to the predecessor EP Dawn Metropolis this one is a full-length album which clocks in at just under eighty minutes (!) with a total of twenty-two songs…something very rare in today’s “fast food mindset” when it comes to album lengths. Another addition is that on a handful of songs they include, partially auto-tuned and modified, vocals; which I was skeptical towards at first. But the outcome is just so well-fitting that I’m partially sad that they’re not used on more tracks.

There is not much I can add, to be honest. You either dig this style or you don’t, it’s pretty difficult to be impartial since it’s very special and unique. I sincerely hope you give it a go and find out for yourself! More info can be found on the band’s Facebook page and you can take the “do I like chiptune?” test by watching the video below!

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vc3JWo2iiGc]

Electric Eye – Pick-up, Lift-off, Space, Time

A nice little piece of psychedelic rock was flying trough space and time and landed on our desk. On the one hand, Electric Eyes’ ingredients are typical for the genre: warped tunes and electronic spacy sequences. On the other, the Norwegians try to build up a hard and progressive groove, which works out most of the time due to the powerful and restless drum beat throughout every song.

Pick-up, Lift-off, Space, Time starts off with 6AM, which already clearly defines the main direction of the LP, although it sometimes feels like being a bit uninspired. Geneva is one of those atmospheric songs that you may imagine being used as background soundtrack of an IMAX documentary about our dear planet Earth. Vocals and samples show up from time to time, as well as sitars and a theremin, creating an ambiance between drug trips and Star Trek.

Tangerine is the first star of this album, building up an uneasy and optimistic atmosphere at the same time, before exploding in an almost post rock like wall of destructive sound. Definitely one of the strongest moments in Pick-up, Lift-off, Space, Time, if not even the climax of this adventure.

Negative aspects? Maybe monotony. Sometimes the drum beat annoys untrained ears, which would be a problem for the whole genre. The harsh guitar sound nevertheless brings almost every song to a point in the very right moment, as for example in The Road, the shortest song with 4:10.

The forceful sound and the wall of sensory input may sometimes overcharge the listener, although this often reflects one of the major strengths of the record. The closing song is named after the band and floats nicely between Pink Floyd and Sigur Rós before putting a grooving and enjoyable end to this versatile work of psychedelic rock. Give it a try!

Aftershock

Eli Roth teamed up with Nicolás López and Guillermo Amoedo to make a disaster movie and cast himself as one of the main roles, and it becomes clear from the get go that he reinvented neither himself, nor the wheel with that one. The first half of Aftershock centers around three friends’ debaucherous adventures (or their attempts thereof) in Chile. It relies on the “trio of travelling bros looking to get laid in a gorgeous country with prosperous nightlife” kind of humour, which is hardly revolutionary, but it was interesting to see that popular Internet culture references are making their way into film: the word “hipster” is dropped in a mocking way, the Barney Stinson “true story” meme is imitated and a troll face T-shirt is worn by a dead ringer for Zach Galifianakis. Maybe I’m just late to the party, I’m not too up to date on bro-cinema these days.

After the novelty of random meme-dropping in film wore off for me, though, I got a distinct sense of déjà vu that endured until the end of the flick. I honestly feel like I’ve seen this exact movie at least 10 times in my life. The three guys hit it off with three women and they party more or less successfully until about 35 minutes into the movie — then, a monumental earthquake spoils the fun. The transition from light-hearted comedy to full-blown “man vs. nature” gorefest is abrupt, but natural disasters don’t exactly care for smooth, gradual transitions, so I’m not going to lob that criticism at Mr. Roth. But especially once the action starts, his influence is obvious, and the movie becomes painfully predictable. The man notoriously has a penchant for pretty sick and gratuitous gore, and he does not disappoint those who like his work for it here.

Of course, nature is not the only thing man has to fear in the face of chaos and destruction; the second biggest threat will always be himself. And so a bunch of escaped convicts are unleashed to demonstrate this by hunting and torturing the heroes and heroines Roth-style.

The premise has potential, but unfortunately, there is not an ounce of originality in the execution. I did not warm up to the characters and their relationships with each other due to the uninspired acting and consequently could not care less which atrocities might happen to them, so it felt more like Hostel-type torture porn rather than a movie with a bigger message. There’s the overused cliché of the female moral center of the story, the girl with the short hair and conservative clothing, who ends up being the last one standing while the two frivolous, short-dress-wearing ones fall behind. The villains are all one-dimensional, sadistic lunatics, mere robotic devices to further the plot. It’s all been done before, and better.

If you want to watch a decent disaster movie, I suggest you get your hands on Cloverfield, for example, but stay away from this half-assed attempt. Aftershock is a mediocre film if I’ve ever seen one. It’s not bad enough to deserve the label of “trash”, it’s not entertaining enough to be a guilty pleasure — it did absolutely nothing for me, just like it did nothing for Eli Roth’s reputation as a writer-actor.