When you think about it, fossil fuels are
sort of macabre, because they are the remains of formerly living things. Hold
that thought, because Larry Fessenden will get back to it. The Earth is
apparently angry, it will take out its frustrations on a remote Alaskan oil
exploration station in Fessenden’s The
Last Winter (trailer here), which screens as part of the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s
Scary Movies 9, in celebration of the 30th anniversary of Fessenden’s
Glass Eye Pix.
In an alternate universe, a small
way-the-heck-and-gone corner of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge has been
opened to drilling—more or less. The North Corporation still has a lot of hoops
to jump through before it can start pumping crude. Their environmental impact
must be minimal, so they have brought on board several former activists to
certify everything is on the up-and-up. Presumably, it will be worth it. A
local Inuit tribe commissioned the exploratory KIK well in the 1970s—the results
of which have been a closely guarded source of much speculation ever since.
Unfortunately for project manager Ed
Pollock, the weather has not cooperated. It simply has not been cold enough to
construct their low-impact ice roads, so bleeding heart James Hoffman refuses
to sign off on any further development. To add insult to injury, Hoffman has
taken up with Pollock’s deputy and former main squeeze Abby Sellers. Of course,
everyone will have more pressing things to worry about when Maxwell McKinder goes
start raving mad. He is the first, but he won’t be the last. Something is
obviously very wrong, but the gritty petroleum workers are rather dismissive of
Hoffman’s warnings of a vengeful Mother Nature.
Yes, there are similarities between Winter and M. Night Shyamalan’s
notorious The Happening, but
Fessenden’s indie horror film predated the ill-conceived studio release by two
years. It is also much more skillfully executed—and it has Ron Perlman.
Still, there is no denying Fessenden’s
messaging gets a tad heavy-handed, especially down the stretch. On the plus
side, he brings some real visual flash and dazzle, including several terrific
tracking shots and a number of appropriately unsettling, psychologically
expressive montages that could possibly induce seizures in some viewers.
Fessenden also earns style points for his unexpected use of the classic Nina
Simone recording of “My Baby Just Cares for Me.”
As usual, Perlman does his thing as
Pollock. Really, what more needs to be said? Yet, as Hoffman, James LeGros
stands his ground with Perlman quite well. In fact, both actors and Fessenden deserve
credit for portraying their rivalry relatively subtly, rather resorting to the
tritest red state-blue state clichés.
