Splinter

As anyone knows me will attest, I LOVE monster movies. From rampaging behemoths such as Godzilla to the sublimely twisted fusion of flesh and metal that is Alien, creature featutures have been able to effortlessly capture my imagination since the tender age of 5, when I was given my first dose of Godzilla. Besides, time for you to face some facts about yourself. What would rather you see: someone struggling to find their way in life, wading through a sea of catty social encounters, AND dealing with some traumatic event from their past that rears its head at inoppurtune moments; OR a seriously badass monster inflicting all manner of extreme mayhem on poor, helpless peeps as they scramble to stay alive AND avoid tripping on their rapidly unspooling intestines? If you prefer the former, I advise you stop reading right now, and go enjoy your copy of Closer. Unfortunately, my quest to find a good monster romp has led me to be burned a good number of times; often by the lurid and colorful cover art of the B-movies populating the video store near my house at the time. Being young and impressionable, it was hard not being seduced by thr cover art, which if nothing else, promised a fun time. Sigh... what I would get instead would be complete shoozefests that consisted of people wandering through poorly lit environments, with bland young people trundling long waxing poetic about...sex and drugs, of all things. And when the monster(s) would finally show up, it would either be a CGI fabrication of equal, or less, quality then Playstation 1 cinematics, or a suit of such low quality that somewhere, somehow, 1960's era Daiei Studios was shaking their heads in pity (created Gamera in the 60's in order to compete with Godzilla. Long story short...it didn't work, until the 90's revival. Look them up to get the full meaning of the joke.)

Outside of these digital pieces of excrement, there was no real way to satisfy my monster fix, what with any critter centered flick, let alone a good one, being released sporadically. Oh, to live in the golden era of the B-movie, where you could hardly walk down the street without confronting some new nightmarish beast (usually created by mishandled science, and then solved by the most rugged scientists you'd ever lay eyes on. Ironic...). Then, along came the little film that could, Splinter. A film that offers up a simple, people-putting-aside-their-differences-to-fight-a-common-enemy siege story, it accomplishes exactly what it sets out do to; entertain you. It disregards any opportunity to throw any postmodern winks at the audience and instead acts as a sort of love letter to past B-monster movies; indeed, it snuggles most comfortably with John Carpenter's The Thing, especially regarding the nature of its beast. And friends, what a beast it is.

I am of the belief that anyone wearing a hat proclaiming "I Heart Bikinis" is someone who deserves to be immediately removed from the gene pool. Luckily, the black spined...thing lurking in the woods happens to agree, and promptly kills the lone gas station attendant in possession of said hat. We are then introduced to young couple Seth and Polly during their anniversary. He's the bookish, shy type, with a Ph.d in Biology (he's NOT a doctor, y'know), and she's the vibrant, outdoorsy type. One look at them easily brings to mind questions along the lines of "how'd he get a looker like her...?"; luckily, the actors share such a natural chemistry that any disbelieving is quickly thrown to the wind. Hoping to spend their anniversary under the stars, their plans are mucked up by Seth in the most spectacularly inept way. Their plans for a secondary retreat at a motel are foiled when escaped convict Dennis and his detoxing (and completely loopy) girlfriend take them as hostages (seeing as he has an entire state of pissed off police officers bearing down on him). After some verbal abusing of Seth (he can't even drive a stick-shift), the group's car breaks down after running over the creature that killed the gas station attendant. Luckily, they're able to get to a nearby gas station. The same one from the opening credits. With no means of communication. With a hideous, parasitical monster wanting very badly to get in. People, place your bets.

This is a film that, as the plot synopsis would indicate, is hardly original. And as is the case with many lower-budget films, the problems are slightly more obvious than higher budget, mainstream fare. That being said, while hardly perfect, Splinter is easily one of the more entertaining films I've sat down for the last little while. Hearkening back to the creature-feature flicks of the 80's, the newbie director takes a simple premise and delivers a lean (barely clocking over 80 minutes) and mean debut feature. However, as with previous films I've talked about, being unoriginal doesn't mean something should instantly dismissed. It only takes a director's enthusiasm and commitment to tired material to make it interesting. Toby Wilkins delivers this in spades.

One of the more refreshing aspects of the film are the way the characters are handled. They aren't treated as disposable monster fodder, and even though they are to a degree recognizable archetypes, there are actual personalities built around them, and as a result we actually begin to care about these people. There are no groan-worthy moves carried out by our protagonists, and surprisingly, their plans to escape and fight back actually involve forsight and planning. Wow, someone call Guiness. Dennis is one of the more interesting characters, and despite engaging in the 'hardened badass' cliches, he morphs from a completely unlikeable, despicable human being into a surprisingly layered, sympathetic character. Polly is extremely fun to watch as well, and given her kick-ass attitude constant standing up to Dennis in the initial early moments, one gets the impression that she could very easily have become a Ripley for the new millennium. Almost a shame then that she didn't have as much to do when things got truly hairy. Seth is the weakest character, for several reasons. For one, one gets the distinct impression that he could be due for a new backbone transplant. I don't know about you, but if someone smashed my girlfriend on the back of her head and called her a "fucking idiot", I wouldn't just take that standing and do absolutely nothing. Also, his knowledge of all things biological comes off as a bit too convenient when it comes down to understanding the nature of the creature; the snap deductions he makes regarding its physical makeup come off as a bit contrived. Finally, there's a reaction from him that came damn near to taking me entirely out of the movie. Upon his first direct with the concert, he speaks so matter-of-factly it comes to the point of him sounding more bored than anything else, while a more appropriate reaction would be along the lines of "JESUSFUCKINGCHRISTFUCKINGMONSTERAAAAAAAAAAAAAH."

Now, regarding the monster, if one imagined the lovechild of the title creature from The Thing and the sentient vine from The Ruins, you might get an idea as to what exactly this thing is. I'm not going to go into much specifics, as I think the monster is one of the coolest to come down the pike for the last couple of years, but here goes. Essentially, its a needle organism that burrows into the flesh of its host, and proceeds to take it over. Then things get nasty. It doesn't need the whole body to function, just parts of it. Also, its a creature obviously unfamiliar with the workings of the human body, and contorts the bodies of its host in absolutely hideous ways in order move around. Seeing this thing in motion...there's really no adequate way to do it justice. Needless to say, you won't be able to look away. Unfortunately, likely for budgetary reasons, Wilkins employs shaky-cam for most of the creature attacks. While not really as irritating as most have made it out to be, it still renders the creature slightly hard to make out, and is still frustrating. Despite this, the final form of the monster is a masterwork of twisted flesh that would be proud to call Silent Hill its home. Besides, its done with old school, prosthetic effects. What more incentive do you need?

Given the brevity of the film, there is no obvious explanation for the creature. There are several throw away clues that may or may not have to do with anything, but aside from those, nothing else is given. It is simply introduced, the rules laid out, and the blood spilled. Simple, and to the point.

I'll admit, for the first 15 minutes or so, I wasn't entirely won over. The crime-thriller aspect felt weak, and the language almost felt like a Tarantino impersonator. But when the beastie came out to play, and the siege fully kicked in, along with some absolutely hideous acts of violence doled out by the creature, I was absolutely hooked. My advice? Kick off your shoes, get some friends over, and go on a trip down Memory Lane. You won't be disappointed.

King of the Hill

King of the Hill continues to prove that the Spanish, the rest of Europe. Asia, and even Canada are able to produce better crafted horror cinema than the United States. While King may not be horror per say (if anything, it belongs more firmly in the thriller/suspense genre), it still provides an effective look at an ordinary man as his safe, secure world comes crashing down in the face of human cruelty in its purest form.

Quim is having a rough day. First, he's unable to get in touch with his ex-girlfriend, in the vain hopes of reconciling (and possibly some no-strings-attached lovin'). Then, he spies a young woman shoplifting in the gas station, and, in exchange for not turning her in, she offers him some "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours" in the form of a bathroom quickie. While that may not necessarily sound like a bad thing, it quickly becomes worse with the discovery she's robbed him, though inexplicably paid for his gas. Our understandably pissed hero follows her van through a vast mountainous range; where then a slightly less-than-average day descends completely into hell with a flash of light atop a mountain, the crack of a rifle, and a bullet in his car battery and his leg. Soon, he and the aforementioned thief, Bea, find themselves stalked by the most dangerous of killers; one able to target them effortlessly via a high-powered rifle. Shoot. Kill. Game Over.

The idea of comfortably soft, well-off city slickers being lost in an unfamiliar, hostile environment while being stalked and tormented by an adversary with an intimate knowledge of their surroundings dates as far back as outings such as Deliverance and Southern Comfort, both very strong genre outings. But whereas those films had their actual location (forest and swamp, respectively) play as much, if not more of a threat than the physical, identifiable enemy, King has its woods and mountainous ranges play an almost passive part (though there a few wince inducing injuries dealt out by Mother Nature), and the main threat is the sniper, who for his prowess in navigating the land as far as his far reaching view, may as well be God. King of the Hill, indeed. As such, the director is able to generate some genuinely suspenseful set-pieces; the frequent moments of silence, and dare I say it, relative tranquility, are violently punctuated by the retorts of his rifle, and as a result the viewer is left in an agonizing state of suspense, dreading the next shot to land right between the shoulder blades of our protagonists. The inability to know where or when the next attack will occur proves infinitely more frightening than a masked troglodyte you can see coming a mile away.

In true horror fashion, there is an intervention by the cops, and as most anyone with a brain can foresee, the boys in blue will offer no salvation; instead, they'll be disbelieving assholes who meet their end at the hands of the foe they thought was a practical joke coined by those damn kids and their decadent lifestyle. "I told you so" has never been so true. And for better or worse, the cops in Hill are no exception. Unfortunately, this is also one of the film's larger stumbling blocks. I mean, there's disbelieving, which is sometimes excusable, and then there's disbelieving. As Jane Austen would likely note, these cops are of "ill-breeding", as not only do they appear oblivious to the wound in his leg, deaf to his repeated claims that some asshole is trying to kill him, they believe him guilty of a murder (quite early on, Quim killed an accomplice of the sniper), and then arrest him and Bea and drive them to the scene of the crime. Un-frigging-believable. Once, just once, I would love to see a cop actually believing the story of an obviously panicked individual, instead of giving them the old "the hell you say" and contuing to be a fool right to their violent end. Luckily, the sniper does the world a service and preforms a little high calibre brain surgery, among other things, upon the "defenders of the people".

The most interesting element of the film comes near the hour mark, when the film makes a sudden shift to the perspective of the killer. What was a taught, near breathless extended stalk sequence suddenly morphs into a satire, and a extremely effective one at that. Going further down this road of discussion is impossible without divulging massive spoilers, but I'll just say this: the title brings on a whole new meaning with the revelation. The villain, while rendered slightly less frightening when seen as a human being, instead of a near god-like figure, is still brought vividly to life by the actor portraying him, and ultimately he stands out as one of the more savage and interesting antaganists I've seen of late.

The film is shot on video and captures the landscape beautifully, making the vast wilderness a force to be equally admired and reckoned with; the standout being the climax set in an abandoned, decaying village, which takes on a most terrible beauty. It is an extremely tightly shot film, with the actors being framed often in close up, forcing the viewer into a more intimate standpoint. The score works well, with the music ranging from melancholy guitar riffs to a thundering percussion for several of the attacks. Good stuff. The acting is solid across the board, with Quim being enough of an everyman to gain our sympathy, despite his sometimes morally dubious decisions. Valverde brings an intriguing sense of mystery to her character; nothing is ever really revealed of her, and throughout the film, it is alluded that she may be in league with the killer. Of course, I'll neither prove or disprove this.

Word is the Weinsteins are planning on seizing this for a remake, so be sure to get to the goods before this can happen. Really, it all comes down to choosing between a steak and microwavable roast beef. Really, not that hard a decision.