Dario Argento's Dracula: (2012. dir: Dario Argento) You can see it's him, that it's Argentino-ish, anyway, see it from the colors and extreme lighting (in this case, though, oddly flat and bright), and from the naked girls, including naked Asia Argento. But where's the master? I always thought even bad Argento was interesting (see Phantom of the Opera for some truly twisted imaginings), but this is just bad. It looks like he was filming a fairy tale for television, along the lines of Once Upon a Time, for example, except that the script is not good enough. (You heard me. Let that notion settle and simmer in your mind for a spell.) This script reads like it was written by someone who barely speaks English, and so is telling the bare-bones story with no subtlety, no grace, no elision. And, alright, the story of the bloodsucking Count is one that we KNOW already. We don't NEED the scene in which Van Helsing sits down with Mina and says, "The Count doesn't just drink blood, he changes his prey into creatures like himself..." We KNOW that. Just SHOW us things, alright? Didn't Argento used to be kind of a king in the realm of just showing us things from angles we never dreamt? or am I misremembering that?
On top of it all, the sound is awful, with bad dubbing throughout. It looks like it was made for television, with slow fades at commercial breaks. Even Thomas Kretschmann as the Count doesn't quite work. All those mad skills and charisma and even he needed something more: a script, yes, but maybe just some gothic trappings, some nice, mysterious lighting, perhaps, without which he's paddleless up a pretty humdrum creek. The music is nice and just-this-side of kitsch, using theremin and gypsy violins, but even that is not well-integrated.
On the other hand, how about that praying mantis, huh? Atta boy, Dario.
the Gift: (2000. dir: Sam Raimi) An old-fashioned ghost story done with easy, old-fashioned unfolding by Sam Raimi, with atmosphere to spare and a cast so great that they'll leave you sputtering with admiration. There's Cate Blanchett, amazing as usual, but also Giovanni Ribisi and Greg Kinnear, both of whom give stunningly good performances. Then there's Hillary Swank in a smaller role, and downright perfection as a downtrodden victim with a malevolent streak. Look at the way she walks, the way she hunch-shouldered sidles up to the woman she wants something from, stands too close, talks too quietly and insistently, manages to erase the presence of anyone else in the room. Really outstanding. Kim Dickens (Deadwood and Treme) also manages to demonstrate both chops and personality even in her do-nothing, I'm-a-plot-device, expositionary role.
Raimi uses a quiet, ambling pace, allowing the tension to build itself, and quaint old fade-outs at scene ends, which, God knows why, work well here. The story is a good one; the characters are good; the script is just good enough, and therein lies the rub. In the end, alas, we are asked to swallow too much, and so come away dissatisfied. Until then, though, it's really a nice ride.
the Stories We Tell: (2013. dir: Sarah Polley) I try to avoid documentaries people make about their own families. Generally they're using the camera as a weapon to get revenge on old grampa, or the people are awkward in front of it, whatever. But, just as even someone like me who hates weddings enjoys going to actors' weddings (because they understand the importance of timing, humor, dynamics, bold choices, and moving the damn thing along), Sarah Polley's family are a different kettle of fish, a family of performers. Her parents (well, "parents", in quotation marks, I guess) were actors and the kids tend towards a great, perhaps inherited, sense of showmanship. In short, they're a good time to hang out with. The great family "scandal" is not shrugged off, but also has good humor tossed its way along with some painful honesty. Polley has shaped things well and unapologetically, and provides both major parties involved wtih a good platform upon which to speak their individual pieces. The result is both interesting and surprisingly enjoyable.
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