Nacho Vigalondo’s Daniela Forever

Nicolas makes sleeping his grief away a proactive strategy, rather than a form of denial. That’s because it is lucid dreaming, pharmaceutically boosted. Regardless, he reunites with his late girlfriend, who is exactly as he wants to remember her, until maybe she starts to get a little bit real in Nacho Vigalondo’s Daniela Forever, which releases today on DVD and BluRay.

Nicolas and Daniela were perfect together. At least that is how he remembers them as a couple, so her freak accidental death sends him spiraling downward. He gets so bad, his platonic friend Victoria arranges for him to join the test group taking her big pharma company’s lucid dreaming drug. She knows it works, because it helped her manage her post-divorce depression. However, the experimental controls are so lax, Nicolas accidentally starts dreaming of Daniela on the first night—and he keeps going back to her, filing fake progress reports for the scientists.

Initially, the dream world is his oyster. Daniela is just the way he remembered her, but when he’d prefer her slightly different, he simply instructs her to forget inconvenient memories. Their world is only limited by his past experiences, so the borders are a bit blurry and indistinct. However, the more time he lucid dreams of Daniela, the more their dream world expands and fills in. It might actually be turning somewhat, kind of real. That’s not my interpretation. Nicolas dreams that Victoria suggests that very possibility.

Vigalondo is incapable of making of boring films, but this isn’t among his best work. The early scenes are rather confusing, but he down-shifts into interesting territory when Nicolas starts to question the supposed unreality of his dream world. However, it loses steam when it morphs into a pseudo-feminist critique of the Twilight Zone episode “A World of his Own,” guest-starring Keenan Wynn, as an author who can change reality by simply recording into his Dictaphone. To make matters worse, the conclusion is a murky letdown.

Sundance ’19: Paradise Hills

It is a dystopian finishing school, where they finish the heck out of difficult young women. Sure, it is creepy, but at least the amenities are super-luxurious and the views are postcard-worthy. Uma, the cash-poor heiress refuses to be seduced by such trappings in Alice Waddington’s Paradise Hills, which premiered at the 2019 Sundance Film Festival.

Uma is the picture of a perfectly subservient bride, but she was not always like this. Cue flashback. Initially, she had no intention of marrying her slimy groom, because she rather resented the role Son played in her father’s economic ruin and subsequent suicide. Her mercenary mother is all for the match, but Uma rather crassly still carries a grudge.

It will be the job of Paradise Hills, under the direction of the regal Duchess, to mold her into a more reasonable young woman. She is not there by choice and she cannot leave of her own accord. However, she makes fast friends with her roommates. Yu is a former prole, who must learn to behave in a manner befitting the upper class now that she has been sent to live with her Beijing relatives. Chloe has been shipped away to shed the pounds her family finds so undesirable.

Probably the hardest case currently in residence at Paradise Hills (technically an island, perhaps in the Mediterranean) would be Amarna, a pop starlet, who wants to chart a more Melissa Etheridge course for her career (and private life), much to the horror of her management. There is definitely an ambiguous something going on between her and Uma, until Amarna is suddenly discharged and acting like a bubblegum idol in the media.

The art direction and frilly costuming of Paradise are to die for, but it blends fantasy and science fiction in ways that do not conform to any consistent internal system of logic. Frankly, it is a bit surprising the screenplay was co-written by mad genre master Nacho Vigalondo (along with Brian DeLeeuw, writer of Curvature and Some Kind of Hate), because it really looks like the film started with its feminist message and built its narrative structure out from there.

Emma Roberts is so dull and vanilla as Uma, it is hard to fathom why the villainous Son would be so preoccupied with her. In contrast, Eiza Gonzalez smirks and smolders with electric intensity as Amarna and Mila Jovovich chews the scenery with devilish delight as the ab fab Duchess. Danielle Macdonald has some poignant moments as Chloe, but Awkwafina never really elevates compulsively earphone-wearing Yu above stock character levels. Of course, all the guys in Hills are either pigs or dogs.

Waddington is a gifted stylist, whose ultra-chic, darkly sinister short film Disco Inferno played at Slamdance in 2016 (proving the cross-pollination between the two fests). Josu Inchaustegui’s cinematography perfectly evokes a fantastical vibe, filtered through a high-end fashion magazine layout. It is the sort of film we want to admire, but it never fully lands. Still, it proves Waddington still has loads of potential to make distinctive genre films. Sort of half-recommended, Paradise Hills is certain to have a robust life on the festival circuit, following its premiere at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Into the Dark: Pooka!

This must be the worst must-have toy since the Chuckie Good Guy doll. It looks a little like the Philly Phanatic mascot crossed with Gizmo the Gremlin, but its supposed charm is its unpredictability. Kids are crazy for it, but it is driving the actor wearing its furry costume even crazier in Nacho Vigalondo’s Pooka! (trailer here), the Christmas installment of Hulu’s Blumhouse-produced monthly holiday horror anthology, which premieres this Friday.

Wilson thought he was auditioning for a proper acting gig, but when he was offered the “role” of Pooka, the money was too good to turn down. He will be the only one wearing the suit, so he will own the role. However, it will be more like he will be owned by Pooka.

Of course, the whole point is to sell Pooka dolls, which jump off shelves like a combination of Cabbage Patch Kids and Teddy Ruxpins. Pooka’s gimmick is recording and playing back snippets of conversation it overhears, but there is no guarantee it will pick something polite. In fact, it has a reputation for being naughty more often than nice. Considering it is in such high demand, scoring one for the son of Melanie Burns, the single mom Wilson is trying to romance is quite a coup. Unfortunately, just as he makes progress on the relationship front, the character of Pooka starts sending him violent dreams and visions that threaten his hold on reality.

Arguably, Pooka is more of an extended Twilight Zone episode than a scare-your-pants-off horror movie, but that is not a bad thing. You can also consider it a loose riff on A Christmas Carol—really, really loose. Thanks to screenwriter Gerald Olson and a snappy cast, the characterization is unusually strong by genre standards. We feel for poor Wilson and rather like several of the people in his orbit, particularly Red, the retired actress living in the next-door apartment.

Admittedly, Pooka cannot compete with Vigalondo’s inspired Colossal, but it will not diminish his reputation as one of the best genre directors working in film today. He clearly has an affinity for Pooka’s inherently eccentric nature, but this could well be his most subtly executed film to-date.

Nyasha Hatendi should put himself on a lot of fans’ radar for his terrific work anchoring the film as the increasingly distressed Wilson. He covers a wide emotional gambit, while remaining faithful to the character’s tightly wound reserve. Hatendi also develops a credible rapport with Latarsha Rose’s Burns. Yet, Dale Dickey and Jon Daley really help distinguish ITD: Pooka! with the color and energy they bring, as Red and Wilson’s Pooka-selling boss, respectively.

Whether you call it horror, dark fantasy, or psychological thriller, Pooka! is up there with Anna and the Apocalypse as one of the best Christmas genre films this season. (FYI, there’s also something called Elves out there we just can’t force ourselves to watch.) It is very well made and rather haunting in its way. Very highly recommended, Into the Dark: Pooka! starts streaming this Friday (12/7) on Hulu.

Sundance ’17: Colossal

You have never seen a kaiju movie like this before. For one thing, it is the city of Seoul that gets devastated over and over again, rather than Tokyo. In addition, two small town losers might somehow bear some responsibility for the carnage. Rest assured, alcohol is most definitely involved in Nacho Vigalondo’s Colossal (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 Sundance Film Festival.

The hard-partying, unemployed Gloria assumed she would be a New Yorker for life until her exasperated boyfriend Tim evicts her from his tony apartment. Rather depressingly, Gloria is forced to crash on the floor of her family’s old provincial home, where she has not lived in since elementary school. However, good old torch-carrying Oscar still recognizes his long-time crush and offers her a job at his bar. Obviously, this is a problematic source of employment for her, but Gloria still is not ready to grow up and be responsible.

One late afternoon-early evening, Gloria wakes up to news reports of a giant kaiju terrorizing Seoul. A few days later, the monster returns to wreak more havoc. Coincidentally, both rampages coincide with all-night benders that stretched into the not-so early morning—8:05 AM to be precise. Realizing the connection, Gloria starts to sober up. However, when she drags Oscar and the town’s Norm and Cliff to witness her power via the internet an Ultraman-like giant robot suddenly also appears.

Like a good Nacho Vigalondo film, Colossal takes a dark turn around the midway point, but it is always deeply rooted in human flaws and weaknesses. Frankly, Vigalondo is really building on the themes and symbolism of classical tragedy—we all remember “jealousy is the green-eyed monster,” right? Yet, the film has an appealingly grungy feel.

Vigalondo also showcases Anne Hathaway and Jason Sudeikis like you have never seen them before. In this case, Sudeikis, the former Saturday Night Live cast-member is actually funny, but he also convincingly veers into Jack Torrance territory during the third act. However, Hathaway gives a tour de force performance as the boozy self-sabotaging Gloria. Forget Les Mis. Forget Rachel Getting Married. This is the film that really shows her range.

Without question, this is the most intimate, character-driven kaiju film you will ever hope to see. It is often addresses emotional issues with brutal honesty, but it is also a ton of fun. Once again, it reconfirms Vigalondo is one of the best (and least predictable) genre filmmakers working today. Very highly recommended, Colossal screens again tonight (1/21) and tomorrow night (1/22) in Park City, as part of this year’s Sundance.

Camino: Zoe Bell vs. Nacho Vigalondo

Anyone with an ounce of common sense will immediately suspect a leftist guerrilla who calls his well-armed comrades “missionaries” and refers to himself in the third person must be seriously bad news. However, as a card-carrying member of the media, war photographer Avery Taggert will have to find out the hard way. The hard way will be especially hard in Josh C. Waller’s Camino (trailer here), which opens this Friday in select theaters.

Taggert seems to have a Hemingway complex. She drinks hard, spars with her editor, and takes every dangerous assignment that comes down the line. Guillermo is the latest. The Spanish-born socialist revolutionary is far savvier than most of his ilk when it comes to the press. He is only too happy to have Taggert tag along with his rag-tag troupe, to snap pictures of them delivering medicine to poor villagers. However, things get a little complicated when Taggert also captures a candid shot of Guillermo strangling the young boy who witnessed his cocaine deal with some of the government’s black ops soldiers.

Shifting into damage control mode, Guillermo tries to pin the murder and the drugs on Taggert. His more fanatical and psychotic followers are only too willing to kill the photo-journalist on his say-so, but the more conscientious “missionaries” have their doubts. Pretty soon both Taggert and the increasingly unhinged Guillermo are offing missionaries in a double-sided game of cat-and-mouse.

With a cast that includes stuntwoman turned thesp Zoë Bell, Timecrimes director Nacho Vigalondo, and A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night’s Sheila Vand, Camino comes fully loaded with cult movie credibility. Waller and screenwriter Daniel Noah’s jaundiced portrayal of Guillermo probably will not win the film a lot of critical favors, but it certainly reflects the reality of Latin America in the 1980s. Frankly, the film comes perilously close to running off the rails with a head-scratching climax, but Vigalondo essentially saves it with one of the best line deliveries of the year. It still doesn’t make much sense, but we’re with it anyway.

As Taggert, Bell exhibits a quiet forcefulness and legit star power. Clearly, she can anchor an action movie, if anyone besides Waller will give her the opportunity. Vigalondo similarly delivers the villainous goods, chewing on the jungle scenery like its salt water taffy. Although Marianna, the true-believing, Guillermo-loving revolutionary does not require a lot of nuance, it further establishes Vand’s range, following her knock-out work in Girl Walks. Kevin Pollak also does his thing, occasionally walking-on to get a few laughs as Taggert’s sarcastic editor.

Despite a bit of mystical mumbo-jumbo, Camino has all kinds of grit and attitude. It definitely lives up to the exploitation tradition of jungle action, which is high praise. Enthusiastically recommended, Camino opens this Friday (3/4) in Los Angeles, at the Arena Cinema.

V/H/S: Viral—Maintaining the Gold Standard of Found Footage Horror

If some form of uncanny mass hysteria broke out in Los Angeles, would anyone notice? At least, there would be no shortage of handheld devices to record the phenomenon. The reigning champion of found footage horror franchises gets a spruced up framing device, taking it to the streets for its third installment, V/H/S: Viral (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

“Viral” is definitely the key word for Kev, the amateur videographer dreaming of youtube glory in Marcel Sarmiento’s interstitial Vicious Circles. However, it takes on multiple meanings when outbreaks of mob violence follow the wake of the evil clown ice-cream truck pursued by nearly all of LA's Finest. Somehow, the clown-mobile also managed to abduct his long-suffering girlfriend, making the hot pursuit distinctly personal for Kev. The early segments of Circles really capture a vivid sense of the city’s mean streets, where the everyday is just as scary as the horror movie elements. Unfortunately, the conclusion makes little sense and is even less satisfying.

Overall, the discrete constituent films are much stronger and scarier. While Gregg Bishop’s Dante the Great largely plays like a well-executed Twilight Zone episode, it has some nice flashes of macabre humor. The titular Dante was a poor aspiring illusionist with little prospects until he got his hands on a mysterious cape. Reportedly, it was once owned by Houdini, but he was so freaked out by it, he deliberately shed it somehow. Right, you’re already getting the picture and his new assistant Scarlett soon will too. Frankly, Dante often seems to “cheat” on the found footage format, but since it has some pretty cool scenes of magical mayhem, so be it.

Arguably, the most inventive segment of Viral is Nacho Vigalondo’s Parallel Monsters. Alfonso is an eccentric inventor who has created a portal to an alternate dimension, as has his counterpart on the other side of the hatch. They switch places to briefly explore each other’s worlds, but our Alfonso soon discovers he is in the one parallel universe they never explored in Star Trek. Let’s just say it belongs in a horror anthology like this. The way Vigalondo slowly reveals details on this other dark world is quite clever and massively creepy.

Frankly, Justin Benson & Aaron Moorhead’s Bonestorm is not much for character development, but it is tough to beat for sheer adrenaline charged lunacy. Basically, a group of knuckleheaded thrill-seekers head down to Tijuana to film a skateboarding video, but they inadvertently crash some sort of demonic zombie party. Madness ensues—spectacularly. When it comes to energy and attitude, Bonestorm is a gory three-ring circus, while remaining fully found footage-compliant. You just need to pop a few Dramamine and see it for yourself.

Few horror franchises still perform as consistently the third time around as the V/H/S series. While the first film maintained a more uniform atmosphere of dread and the second hits higher peaks with Gareth Huw Evans & Timo Tjahjanto’s Safe Haven and Jason Eisener’s Alien Abduction Slumber Party, Viral has fewer weak links overall. Diabolically fun, V/H/S Viral is enthusiastically recommended for the full spectrum of horror fans when it opens tomorrow (11/21) in New York, at the IFC Center.

The ABCs of Death: the Horror of Inconsistency

It is more about Macguffins than McGuffey.  Twenty-six directors from around the world were invited to kill people off using successive letters of the alphabet.  The results vary.  Such is usually the case with anthology films, but even more so for producers Ant Timpson & Tim League’s The ABCs of Death (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York at the IFC Center.

The titles of each constituent film often act as macabre punch lines, capping off each bloody bit of business with a knowing wink.  Therefore, to refer to many films by name would often be spoilery.  Fortunately, they all come conveniently lettered for easy reference.  Nacho Vigalondo’s “A” is a perfect example of an ironic reveal.  While not nearly as inventive as Timecrimes or Extraterrestrial it offers some clever black comedy to kick things off.

There are some notable highlights, including Thomas Cappelen Malling’s “H,” which has to be one of the darnedest WWII films ever.  It also helps rehabilitate the old “Keep Calm, Carry On” slogan after the recent Amazon kerfuffle.  Noburo Iguchi’s “F” is an apocalyptic Yuri epic that should appeal to a wide range of fetishists.  Marcel Sarmiento earns major style points for the visually dynamic genre-warping “D.”  Perhaps the biggest twist is the one applied to old school exploitation in Jake West’s “S.”  While not exactly classic, Yûdai Yamaguchi plays the premise of Hara-Kiri for laughs, succeeding to an extent with “J.”

Yet, there are considerably more misfires and head-scratchers than minor masterworks in ABC.  Jorge Michel Grau’s “I” is a short, nasty bit of cruelty.  Ti West’s slight “M” might be the biggest disappointment, covering similar ground as several other letters, but with far less plot or characterization.  Yet, the film saves the worst for last with Yoshihiro Nishimura’s “Z,” an incomprehensible mess, aside from the irredeemably offensive misuse of 9-11 imagery. 

At least many of the worse entries are also the shortest.  Here’s the speed-dating run-down on all twenty six:

Nacho Vigalondo’s A: Amusing but gimmicky.  Grade: B

Adrián García Bogliano’s B: Connects with childhood fear more than any other entry—B

Ernesto Díaz Espinoza’s C: Like a so-so installment of a cable horror anthology show—C

Marcel Sarmiento’s D: Ambitiously expressionistic—A minus

Angela Bettis’ E: Relatively funny creepy crawler black comedy—B minus

Noburo Iguchi’s F: Entertainingly over the top—A minus

Andrew Traucki’s G: Utterly forgettable—C minus

Thomas Cappelen Malling’s H: Hugely inventive—A

Jorge Michel Grau’s I: Vicious and depressing—F

Yûdai Yamaguchi’s J: Unabashed slapstick—B minus

Anders Morgenthaler’s K: One of several tales revolving around toilets—C minus

Timo Tjahjanto’s L: Sick but surprising, like a the horror movie version of Eyes Wide Shut—C plus

Ti West’s M: The complete waste of a perfectly good letter—F

Banjong Pisanthanakun’s N: An effectively dark little O. Henry-esque story—B plus

Bruno Forzani & Hélène Cattet’s O: Sexually explicit films ought to be more memorable—C minus

Simon Rumley’s P: More social realism than genre, but featuring strong performances—B minus

Adam Wingard & Simon Barrett’s Q: The first and funnier self-referential hipster entries—B minus

Srdjan Spasojevic’s R: Strong set-up, weak payoff—B minus

Jake West’s S:  One of the alphabet’s best—A

Lee Hardcastle’s T:  Unfortunately, you can probably guess what T stands for—C

Ben Wheatley’s U: Promising but leaves viewers wishing for a more fully developed story—B

Kaare Andrews’ V: Respectable foray into dystopian science fiction—B

Jon Schepp’s W:  Self-referential, but with less bite and narrative cohesion—D minus

Xavier Gens’ X: Disturbing and somewhat derivative, but well executed—C plus

Jason Eisener’s Y: An unpleasant dud by any conceivable standard—F

Yoshihiro Nishimura’s Z: Unwatchable, incomprehensible, and insulting—F

Altogether that roughly averages to about a C.  To repeat the obvious, anthology films are always considerably mixed bags.  Unfortunately, the low points of ABC are truly bottom scrapers many viewers will probably wish they could unsee.  Recommended only for true diehard horror fans, The ABCs of Death opens tomorrow (3/8) in New York at the IFC Center.

Spanish Cinema Now ’11: Extraterrestrial

The aliens came and they saw, so now what? That is the question in the back of the minds of the few Madrid residents who did not flee the city. However, they will be mostly preoccupied with their own issues in Extraterrestrial (trailer here), Nacho Vigalondo’s enormously clever take on the alien invasion blockbuster, which opens this year’s Spanish Cinema Now, the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s longest running film series.

Of all the nights Julia could a strange man, she picks the eve of the alien invasion. Understandably, she and Julio are a bit slow rousing themselves in the morning, which is how they missed the military evacuation. Initially, she is only worried about her possessive boyfriend, Carlos. However, as soon as they spy the huge spinning discs in the sky, she lets smitten Julio stay, settling on a cover story to explain his presence. Before long, they are sharing a wickedly uncomfortable dinner with Carlos the madman (but not necessarily an abusive one) and Ángel, the creepy torch-bearing neighbor.

The inevitable conflicts of this soiree are obvious, regardless of the alien invasion apparently underway. However, the not-as-dumb-as-he-looks Julio takes advantage of the resulting paranoia. Indeed, what transpires is sheer gleeful lunacy, powered by jealousy, resentment, and all possible shades of love, most certainly including lust.

Granted, Extraterrestrial is not as wildly inventive as Vigalondo’s instant classic Timecrimes (stream it now, thank me later), but it is still toys with and subverts genre conventions in a richly idiosyncratic manner. This is hardly your typical sci-fi programmer. Frankly, Julio, Carlos, and a rogue band of UHF broadcasters do far more damage to the city of Madrid than the armada of aliens. Yet, Vigalondo nurses our V and X-Files honed fear and uncertainty, creating suspense out of whole cloth. The entire film is quite a nifty trick, but not without a heart. Indeed, Extraterrestrial is surprisingly bright and upbeat compared to the seriously noir Timecrimes.

Despite the outlandish premise, Michelle Jenner, Julián Villagrán, and Raúl Cimas play their respective sides of the love triangle with absolute conviction. Villagrán is particularly effective as Julio, smoothly pulling off each surprise from Julio, the ostensive everyman. Though more broadly comic than his ferocious star turn in The Last Circus, Carlos Areces also still finds some pathos and madness in poor perennially frustrated Ángel.

As his sophomore feature, Extraterrestrial should firmly establish Vigalondo as an international genre film cult-superstar. It is a truly original way to address some of the oldest themes in recorded storytelling. Highly recommended, it screens this Friday (opening night, 12/9) and the following Thursday (12/15) at the Walter Reade Theater during the 2011 edition of Spanish Cinema Now.

6-Shooter: Timecrimes

It seems like whenever characters venture into the woods in Spanish cinema, bad things happen. Perhaps that is just because so many of the Spanish films recently released in America have been horror movies. While technically time-travel science fiction, Nacho Vigalondo’s Timecrimes shares many of the conventions of movie macabre, including those deep, dark woods. Opening tomorrow in New York and Los Angeles, it is the third and strongest installment so far in Magnet Releasing’s Six Shooter series of international genre films.

Hector’s life is not too bad. He has a comfortable relationship with his wife and a lovely new house in the country, sitting picturesquely on the edge of a verdant forest. Nature watching through his binoculars, Hector catches a glimpse of a topless woman. That gets his attention. Hector delves into the forest to investigate, only to take a pair of scissors in the shoulder from a maniac with a bandaged head. Pursued by the lunatic, Hector is guided by the caretaker of a nearby scientific facility into a heavily reinforced mystery chamber. When he emerges, he has traveled several hours back in time. Soon thereafter, Hector suffers a head injury in a freak accident. As he administers first aid, wrapping gauze bandages around his head and pocketing the scissors, things start getting interesting.

Timecrimes is a devilishly clever movie, best seen cold. Even the trailer gives away too much, which makes it a tricky picture to review, so proceed at your own risk. In addition to its head-spinning time games and creepy chills, Vigalondo also raises some surprisingly philosophical questions. As the various Hectors proliferate through frequent time travel their collective actions lead inexorably to murder. Yet in each separate time frame, he is simply responding to the predetermined events unfolding around him. How culpable is Hector (any Hector) for the actions of his various selves?

As Timecrimes concludes, it feels like the film should be riddled with gaping plot holes, but Vigalondo and editor Jose Luis Romeu flawlessly hide the seams. Romeu in particular, deserves credit for perfectly fitting together the perspectives of each new Hector with those previously established. Karra Elejalde is fantastic as the weary middle-aged protagonist, subtly shading each of his character’s materializations. Director Vigalondo also appears in a supporting role, appropriately playing the caretaker—the man who sets all the chaos in motion through his unauthorized use of the time machine.

While Vigalondo maintains a breakneck pace throughout Timecrimes, the film holds up to deliberate post-screening scrutiny. It is probably the best genre film of the year and the strongest time travel movie in years. Highly recommended, it opens today in select cities.