Graham Joyce

British writer Joyce has been crafting some of the strangest and worthwhile novels since the early-1990s. Why haven't you heard of him? Perhaps because the publishing industry in this country doesn't know what the fuck Joyce actually writes. Is it fantasy? Yeah, sometimes, but not the kind that you think. Does he write horror? Well, not really, though there are horrific or supernatural elements at times. Anyway, you get the picture. Exponents of the fantastic or anyone who simply loves a good, well-written novel that is actually trying to do something original should not hesitate to read Joyce.

Lynda Rucker reviews his latest novel, The Limits of Enchantment, over at the Strange Horizons web site. Check it out at:

http://www.strangehorizons.com/reviews/2005/11/the_limit.shtml

George Best 1946-2005

I’m not British. I don’t support Manchester United. And I wasn’t even born when Best started to dazzle the world with his grace, style, determination, bravery, and mad skills on the pitch. But I do love soccer, and with that love comes the dream--the wish--that I could have witnessed one of the all-time greats perform. Even Pele stated that he thought Best was the greatest player he’d ever seen. Of course, Best agreed. Was he the greatest? I don’t know. He never won a World Cup title and his career was one wild rollercoaster ride once he departed Man U in 1973. And then there was his life off the pitch. When Spinal Tap keyboardist Viv Savage (David Kaff) proclaimed in the film, This is Spinal Tap, that his motto for living was to "Have a good time. . .all the time," he could have easily been parroting soccer legend George Best's motto as well. Best had a love of drink, women, fast cars, and burning out with flash style like the rockers that he was frequently compared to. One Portuguese journalist even proclaimed him "The Fifth Beatle.” Well . . . Best and everyone else it seems. Best also knew how to get the most mileage out of a quote. Here are a few of my favorites:

"I used to go missing a lot...Miss Canada, Miss United Kingdom, Miss World."

“He cannot kick with his left foot, he cannot head a ball, he cannot tackle and he doesn't score many goals. Apart from that he's all right.”
-- (his assessment of Manchester United's David Beckham)

“I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I just squandered.”

“I've stopped drinking, but only while I'm asleep.”

"In 1969 I gave up women and alcohol - it was the worst 20 minutes of my life."

Here are a few more links about the man and his fabulous career:

http://football.guardian.co.uk/obituary/0,16836,1650898,00.html

http://football.guardian.co.uk/gallery/0,8555,1647552,00.html

http://football.guardian.co.uk/obituary/0,16836,1651234,00.html

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/4466944.stm

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/26/sports/soccer/26best.html

http://uk.sports.yahoo.com/fo/rodney/best.html

We’re Going to Eat You

When the relatives just won’t leave or if the turkey just doesn’t do the trick, why don’t you simply slip out of the house and take in a cannibal film? That’s if you live in Eugene, Oregon, of course. This Thanksgiving weekend the wonderful Bijou theater is going to show three classics of the genre: Ruggero Deodato’s brutal and unforgettable masterpiece, Cannibal Holocaust, Antonio Margheriti’s Cannibal Apocalypse, and Wes Craven’s classic piece of revenge mayhem, The Hills Have Eyes. All of them are worthy of attention if you have the stomach for this particular kind of gut-munching horror, though don’t blame me if your life passes before your eyes while watching Holocaust. Margheriti’s and Craven’s productions are intense and great fun in their ways. But Deodato’s contribution to the genre is. . .well, just keep telling yourself it’s only a movie. . .a movie. . .a movie. . .a movie. . . .

My God’s Bigger: Frankenstein vs. Baragon (1965)

Growing up as a die-hard monster kid, I obsessively watched any creature-feature that came on television. King Kong, Frankenstein’s Monster, big, small, whatever. If it had a monster in it, I was there. And my favorite kinds of monsters were the ones that came from the mighty Toho Studios in Japan. Godzilla, of course, was my favorite, though Rodan was a close runner-up even though he lacked personality. Monster Zero was also high on my list, as was the gentle Mothra. Luckily, it seemed that there was always some kind of kaiju eiga (monster movie) on every Saturday or Sunday afternoon, so I managed to see plenty of ‘em. But for some reason—probably due to the fact that it simply never played on KATU, the channel that aired most of these wonderfully surreal fantasies—I never got a chance to see Frankenstein Conquers the World (its American release title). Now, thankfully, my prospects have changed due to DVD. Though still unavailable in the U.S., Frankenstein vs. Baragon is easily obtainable in its native country of Japan, and because the worldwide web has made it a lot more accessible for cineastes of all stripes—as long as they have a multi-region DVD player—to get pretty much anything their obsessive little hearts desire.

Directed by the legendary Ishiro Honda, with special effects from the equally impressive and important Eiji Tsuburaya, Frankenstein vs. Baragon is one of the landmark kaiju eiga battle royales from the 1960s. After the Nazis deliver via submarine Frankenstein’s heart (not the infamous doctor’s beating muscle but the monster’s) to Hiroshima, Japan, so that doctors can implement their own twisted experiments upon it, the American forces drop the atom bomb and the rest, as they say, is history. Flash forward fifteen years, and a group of doctors—inexplicably led by Dr James Bowen, played to inert perfection by the troubled Nick Adams—discover a strange, feral teenager wandering the streets of Hiroshima, who survives by preying on stray dogs and eating God knows what else. Bowen and his fellow doctors, played by kaiju eiga regulars Tadao Takashima and Kumi Mizuno, attempt to nurse the boy back to health and gently civilize him. But the teenager, experiencing a growth spurt to end them all, starts to metamorphose into a giant and eventually becomes a danger to everyone around him. Dr Kawaji (Takashima) wants to kill Frankenstein and perform experiments upon his body, but Dr Togami (Mizuno) demands that to exterminate him would be against their medical ethics. She’s got a point, but how in the Hell do they expect to tame a 30 foot tall teenager with hormones rampaging violently through him like a fourteen-year old attention-starved boy at a nude rodeo? Of course, this ethical dilemma is not why we enjoy the best of the Toho monster mashes. We want destruction. Big, bad, city in flames trouble in mind is what we desire. And the weirder the better. It takes almost an hour or so for the mayhem to really get going here, but when it does . . . oh, man, you can practically taste the hate. Baragon (a dinosaur-like creature with a spike sticking out of its forehead), who was never a Toho or a fan favorite, is ultimately no match for our square-headed friend. But their showdown in the Japanese countryside is nothing short of awesome. And the finale, with our two adversaries surrounded by a raging forest fire, is one the best endings Honda and Tsuburaya ever devised, as well as one of the most apocalyptic. The Japanese DVD also contains the legendary, and seldom seen, “alternate” ending which has Frankenstein battling it out with a cosmically huge devil fish (really an octopus) that would have given H.P. Lovecraft nightmares for eternity. Or, he’d simply laugh. Probably the latter, I guess. Anyway . . . the showdown is fantastic, and after reading about it for years, it certainly lived up to my expectations.

Honda and company followed up this mini-classic with the even better War of the Gargantuas the next year, staring yet another slumming, sleep-walking American actor (Russ Tamblyn) to play off of the lovely Ms. Mizuno and the rubber-suit mayhem. And if that doesn’t get your pulse racing, I seriously doubt you’re among the living.

Stray Dolls: Azumi 2: Death or Love (2005)

This disappointing follow-up to the thoroughly entertaining and violent chambara (Japanese slang for historical swordplay films; a sub-genre of the jidai-geki or historical film genre) Azumi (2003), is not without its charms or excitement, but there’s something lacking here. Aya Ueta returns as the kawaii (cute) assassin Azumi who, with her loyal compatriot Nagara (Yuma Ishigaki) still by her side after the monumental bloodshed finale of the last film, are hired by another lord to take out the evil warlord Masayuki Sanada (Mikijiro Hira), who wants to wage war across Tokugawa Japan and destroy anyone foolhardy enough to stand in his way. Director Shusuke Kaneko (Gamera: The Guardian of the Universe and its sequels; Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack) replaces Ryhuhei Kitamura (Versus, Godzilla: Final Wars) from the first outing, and the difference couldn’t be more obvious. Kitamura’s swift, stylish epic (especially in the 142 minute Japanese cut and not the shorter international version) beautifully mixed action and emotion, character-development and manga-inspired melodrama to make for one hell of a Saturday afternoon matinee bonanza. Kaneko’s take on the material, unfortunately, never really finds its footing and when the action sequences do kick in—which isn’t too long of a wait—they’re frequently un-involving and ponderously staged.

There are some surprises and treats here, though, including the casting of fan-boy favorite Chiaki Kuriyama (Battle Royale, Kill Bill: Vol. 1) as an assassin who joins up with Azumi and her new rag-tag killer misfits. And though she pretty much steals every scene she’s in, even Kuriyama has trouble fighting her way out of screenwriter Yoshiaki Kawajiri’s clunky dialogue and clichéd plot.

I realize it sounds as if I really disliked Azumi 2: Death or Love, which couldn’t be farther from the truth (I'll take a mediocre Azumi over none at all). It’s just that the first film was so good, so enjoyable, that perhaps my expectations were a little too high. Oh, well. Considering that Death or Love ends with a wide-open window for another installment, I’m sure I’ll get another chance to see my Azumi dreams turn into another serving of bad shio-zuke.

Chasing the Dragon: From Hell (2001)

I still haven’t read the groundbreaking and legendary comic book series of the same name, created by the equally legendary soothsayers of pen and ink, Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell, which originally clawed its way to savage life in Steve Bissette’s marvelous and short-lived graphic novel horror series Taboo. So this short review will not mount a comparison of the original source material against the film. But for all its faults—and there are several, including the horrible miscasting of the otherwise fine Heather Graham as London prostitute Mary Kelly—the film is nevertheless a brooding, atmospheric bad dream that generates such an inescapable sense of dread unlike any recent horror film of the last ten years outside of Lynch’s Lost Highway. London seethes with evil and degradation, and the city streets bleed malevolence. A perfect hunting ground for the infamous Jack the Ripper. Within this sewer of humanity a series of gruesome murders are committed on the city’s prostitutes and the authorities, led by the opium smoking, absinthe drinking Inspector Abberline (Johnny Depp), are at their wits end trying to uncover who is responsible. But is there a greater purpose or a grand conspiracy to the sex killings? Is it possible that the murders lead all the way to the doors of Buckingham Palace? Is there more than one person doing the Devil’s work?

Depp is fine as Inspector Abberline, but it’s the supporting cast that really keeps the film from suffocating underneath the weight of its hallucinatory visuals and aggressive auditory rumbling. Ian Holm, Robbie Coltrane, Jason Flemyng, and last but certainly not least, Katrin Cartlidge, all elevate From Hell to a sublime experience for me. The sorely missed Cartlidge—she died suddenly at the age of 41 from complications from pneumonia and septicaemia—steals every scene she’s in (what’s new?) as Dark Annie Chapman and she would have made a perfect Mary Kelly if the filmmakers had had the balls to cast her in the lead. Alas, directors Allen and Albert Hughes didn’t and we’re left with only glimpses of what could’ve been.

I’m not a Ripperologist by any means, and I’ve certainly not watched all of the numerous films made about the killings—my favorite, though, is the 1944 version of The Lodger starring Laird Cregar. But for many reasons, from the relentless atmosphere of evil seemingly awaiting around every corner to the no exit fates of poverty, disease, and violence that is the day to day existence for the women of the streets, From Hell is certainly the most oppressive and nightmare-inducing version that I’ve yet seen. And that makes for one hell of a good horror film.

Across the Gulf of Space: War of the Worlds (1953)

1953 was a great year for science fiction films. The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (based on the short story “The Fog Horn” by Ray Bradbury) wrecked havoc upon the streets of New York courtesy of famed stop-motion animator Ray Harryhausen, Donovan’s Brain came pulsing to life co-starring the future First Lady Nancy Reagan, Invaders from Mars and It Came from Outer Space (the latter title based on a screen treatment by Bradbury and is one of my favorite SF films from that era) both haunted and amazed audiences with their Cold War paranoia, and then there was War of the Worlds. It’s been a little over 50 years since its release and it still looks amazing, let alone the power to enchant and dazzle me with its hovering alien spacecraft bent on burning the world and everything in it to cinders. This George Pal production, directed by Byron Haskin, deviates plenty from Wells’ classic novel, but the essence and the melancholy mood remain intact. If you’ve never seen it, I urge you to do so now, especially since Paramount has given the film a splendid presentation on DVD. The saturated color palette (courtesy of Technicolor) has never looked as surreal and ravishing as it does here, and the disc comes with multiple commentary tracks (one with stars Gene Barry and Ann Robinson; the other with director Joe Dante, film historian Bob Burns, and genre critic/writer Bill Warren, who penned one of the pivotal and landmark books on the science fiction films of the Cold War era, Keep Watching the Skies!), which I haven’t yet listened to but will shortly. The film’s deadly earnest performances (a requirement for any good SF film) also charms the pants off me and reminds me why I used to love watching it over and over again every time it played on KPTV Channel 12 once or twice a year. This was pre-cable and VCR days folks, so I used to anxiously wait for it to hit the airwaves. Of course, the thing I liked most about it were the aliens and spacecraft. Sure, the special effects may lack the thunder of Spielberg’s recent remake (a film that is high on my Year’s Best list, by the way) and those ghastly wires attached to the menacing metal machines are clearly visible in many shots. But the film still casts a spell on me regardless, and I still fall into the illusion with the ease and comfort of a weary mind descending into a favorite dream.

There’s No Wrong: The Devil’s Rejects: Unrated Version (2005)

Spastic, ugly, brutal, and thoroughly entertaining if you like your horror movies void of any supernatural element, Rob Zombie’s follow-up to his equally delirious 2003 offering, House of a 1000 Corpses, is one mean boot to the head. Having said all that, I did enjoy most of it, though the film’s ludicrous final third stretched plausibility. Rejects again focuses on Captain Spaulding (Sid Haig) and his family of misfit serial killers (most named after Marx Brothers characters) as they butcher anyone unfortunate enough to wander in their path. Chock full of B-movie actors and has-beens (William Forsythe, Ken Foree, Michael Berryman, Geoffrey Lewis, Priscilla Barnes, Mary Woronov, Steve Railsback, P.J. Soles, Elizabeth Daily, and Deborah Van Valkenburgh, respectively), Zombie’s love of trash cinema is certainly infectious if you share the same peculiar admiration of grindhouse movies (I do) and in its own twisted fashion, the film is as inspired in spots as Tarantino’s brilliant (and much, much better) Kill Bill films. But underneath it all there’s the foulness of rot (something, I imagine, Mr. Zombie would take as a compliment). Unlike pervy grindhouse classics like Wes Craven’s The Last House on the Left or William Lustig’s Maniac, Rejects celebrates and honors his wolfish anti-heroes, even allowing them a glorious Bonnie and Clyde styled death while Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Freebird” blasts away on the soundtrack no less. To be honest, it’s a little off-putting. But, then again, Hollywood has had a long love affair with glamorizing killers, whether it’s Sam Peckinpah’s noble gunslingers from The Wild Bunch, Arthur Penn’s fashionable hipsters Bonnie and Clyde, or Oliver Stone’s savage lovers Mickey and Mallory Knox in Natural Born Killers (all released by Warner Bros. Studios, by the way, and all films I like very much). So am I being hypocritical here? I don’t know. Certainly something I’ll have to think about some more. I should also add that Rejects would make a fine double-feature with Jim Van Bebber’s notorious (and good) film, The Manson Family, which after years of ups and downs, was finally released onto DVD earlier in the year.

The Devil’s Rejects is available on DVD from Lions Gate.

Yup, They Dead Alright: Dead Birds (2004)

Taking a narrative cue from Sam Peckinpah’s classic apocalyptic Western, The Wild Bunch, Dead Birds begins with our six outlaws riding into a small southern town and robbing its bank. Of course, things go wrong immediately and innocent blood is shed. Big mistake. The outlaws, led by William (Henry Thomas) and his more subservient brother Sam (Patrick Fugit), flee with what loot they managed to take and ride off into the woods. The trees, soil, and air feel soaked in something more unpleasant than humidity, and the outlaws—after a few surprises--end up spending the night in an abandoned mansion/plantation where things quickly get even more dangerously weird once everyone starts to have visions and notions that they are indeed not alone there.

Sadly given a straight to DVD premiere, outside of a couple of film festival screenings around the country, Dead Birds is one of the best American horror films since David Lynch’s twist on the genre, Lost Highway. Though considerably more straight-forward and traditional than Lynch’s typically skewed and genre-subverting production, Dead Birds nevertheless creates a palpable sense of doom and creepy-crawl intensity that is impressive, even in these post-Sixth Sense or post-Ringu years where mood and atmosphere rule over the more visceral, volume-eleven type horror that dominated the screens in the 1970s and ‘80s. Much of the film’s power impacts us through suggestion and ambiguity, but it also knows when to shock us in order to accomplish its ambition to pull us under its black spell. The acting is all-around excellent, especially Isaiah Washington as Todd, a freed-slave who now works strong-arm for the gang, and Patrick Fugit, who shows that Almost Famous was not a fluke. Director Alex Turner and screenwriter Simon Barrett are talents to watch, especially if they continue to persevere in crafting serious-minded, atmospheric horror films such as this.

Dead Birds is available on DVD from Sony Pictures Entertainment.

Un Jour Comme un Autre: Girl Slaves of Morgana le Fay (1971)

Trippin’ fantastically through the south-central French countryside, two groovy girls, Anna and Francoise, wind up lost and a little freaked out because of it. After the two spend the night in an abandoned barn, and do a lot more than sleep, Francoise wakes to find her friend missing. Dazed and confused, Francoise encounters a striking-looking dwarf named Gurth, who leads her deep into the forest and into the supernatural realm of the legendary Morgana le Fay. Morgana, who rules over her acid-drenched kingdom of nubile female subordinates by allowing them to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh for eternity in exchange for their immortal souls (a devil’s bargain if there ever was one), fixates on the beautiful Francoise and subsequently offers her the deal of a lifetime. Though it begins like your average gothic horror film—complete with the girls entering a rural tavern for some drinks only to be warned to leave immediately by the barkeep—Morgana le Fay is in fact more like an opium-laced fairytale as influenced by Jean Cocteau as much as it is by Jean Rollin. There’s plenty of Sapphic loveliness to behold here, which should more than entice fans of Euro-sleaze, but there’s also an artfulness to the proceedings that should satiate even the mildly curious. Groovy indeed.

And while we're on the subject of Asian horror--specifically Korean horror films--check out Lynda Rucker's recent review of the brilliant and masterful A Tale of Two Sisters over at the Strange Horizons web site:

http://www.strangehorizons.com/reviews/2005/10/a_tale_of.shtml

I Hate School: Whispering Corridors (1998)

This landmark horror film from South Korea, along with the Japanese film Ringu--also released in 1998--basically started the new Asian horror boom. Corridors deals with a series of mysterious “suicides” at a high school for girls that are believed to be caused by a malevolent ghost, a former student who died years earlier in one of the rooms. Though low on actual scares, director Park Ki-hyung has crafted a superb character-driven story that packs an emotional wallop while generating plenty of creeping dread. Much of the film’s power stems from its claustrophobic location and the frequently horrific ordeals that the young female students have to endure—everything from sexual harassment by teachers to demeaning verbal abuse to outright physical violence. In many ways, the terror that the ghost inflicts upon the student body and faculty is nothing compared to what the girls must suffer through at the hands of their teachers. The film, which eventually spawned two loose sequels—1999’s Memento Mori and Wishing Stairs from 2003--is now available in this country on DVD and is a perfect introduction for those of you who still haven’t had the pleasure to enter into the strange and surreal world of Asian horror.