The Others (2001)

In 1996 a young 24 years old man named Alejandro Amenábar broke into the Spaniard film industry with his feature length debut "Tesis". The film, which was a horror story about snuff videos, would end up winning seven Goya awards and quickly became a classic of the Spanish horror that was on the rise at the moment. "Tesis" was followed by "Abre los ojos" in 1997, a science fiction film that would impress American actor Tom Cruise so much that he would buy the rights to produce a remake with the name "Vanilla Sky" in 2001. As part of the deal, Cruise would produce a movie for Amenábar, allowing him to enter the American industry. Amenábar began to develop a project, and found his inspiration in an old chapter of the British TV series "Armchair Theatre" that was essentially a ghost story and was titled "The Others". Taking the same title for his story, Amenábar began the production of a film of Gothic horror in the most classic style, pretty much akin to Jack Clayton's 1961 classic, "The Innocents". The result would be outstanding.

"The Others" is the story of Grace Stewart (Nicole Kidman) and her children Anne (Alakina Mann) and Nicholas (James Bentley), who live in a huge mansion in the British Crown Dependency of Jersey, during World War II. Anna and Nicholas suffer from a rare disease, xeroderma pigmentosa, which gives them extreme photosensitivity and forces them to live in the dark, so no light can enter the Stewart house. Strange events begin to take place in the house's rooms, when Anne begins to talk about seeing other persons in the house, including a kid named Victor. As this takes place, three servants arrive to the house looking for a job, they are Mrs. Bertha Mills (Fionnula Flanagan), the gardener Mr. Edmund Tuttle (Eric Sykes) and the young mute girl Lydia (Elaine Cassidy). Grace decides to hire them and explains them the very strict rules of her house, designed to protect her children from the light. Anne keeps talking about Victor, and soon Grace herself begins to experiment the unexplainable evens that Anne has been mentioning. Convinced that they aren't alone in the house anymore, Grace will try to protect her kids from the others.

With a screenplay written by Amenábar himself, "The Others" is, in a certain way, a ghost story done in a pretty traditional style. Firmly rooted within the Gothic horror subgenre, "The Others" has all the key elements of this type of stories, beginning with the huge mansion in the dark, isolated from society. However, something that separates "The Others" from most ghost stories (resulting from the huge influence it receives from Henry James' classic novel "The Turn of the Screw") is the strong emphasis that Amenábar places on his characters. Certainly, very strange things begin to take place in the Stewart mansion, however, the greatest danger seems to be not inside the house, but inside Grace's mind. Lost in uncertainty regarding the fate of her husband (who was sent to the war), Grace's state of mind begins to suffer the ravaging of a growing obsession with the safety of her children, which gets worse as she face the fact that Anne claims to have seen several strangers in her own house.

The refined classicism of the story is reflected in the style that Amenábar employs to craft his film. Opting for a slow and clam rhythm, Amenábar gives "The Others" an elegance and subtlety in its craftsmanship with recalls Jack Clayton's "The Innocents" (not a coincidence, as Clayton's movie is an adaptation of James' "The Turn of the Screw"). In "The Others", as in the classics of Gothic horror, the atmosphere becomes the most important element, and Amenábar focuses on developing a constant sensation of paranoia and suspense within the dark Stewart mansion. forced The darkness of the house, coupled with the loneliness and the uncertainty generate a mood of constant tension that Amenábar transmits through Grace's eyes. It's interesting that Amenábar, in the psychological focus he gives to ghost stories, rather than showing directly what is happening in the house, he narrates it through the expressions of his characters, particularly Grace. So, her eyes become true windows that allows us to gaze into the deep darkness of her mind.

As can be seen, Grace slowly becomes the center of "The Others" and, being this a film where the characters' psychology is so important, the performances by the cast become of enormous importance. Fortunately, Australian actress Nicole Kidman shows to be up to the challenge and delivers one of the best works in her career. Certainly, there are moments where Kidman shows a bit of a tendency to overact a little, however, in general her performance as Grace is charged with a restrained intensity that effectively transmits the fragile state of mind that her character has. As the mysterious Mrs. Mills, Fionnula Flanagan delivers an excellent job that serves as the perfect counterpart to Kidman's, establishing herself with a strong screen presence. Eric Sykes is a bit less fortunate, though his work as Mr. Tuttle isn't any bad. The film's surprise comes from the young actors Alakina Mann and James Bentley, whom deliver performances of great quality as the Stewart children, who try to live a normal life despite their disease.

Without a doubt, a lot of the ominous atmosphere that Amenábar creates in "The Others" is thanks to the excellent work of cinematography done by the veteran Javier Aguirresarobe. Taking great advantage of the darkness that reigns in the Stewart house (as the characters are afraid of sunlight), Aguirresarobe plays with shadows and sources of light to give a supernatural beauty to Amenábar's film. And yet, the technical perfection of the movie never overshadows its story, which is a wise choice by director Alejandro Amenábar, whom despite playing with several of the genre's classic conventions, never loses the focus on his characters. Amenábar makes an intelligent and honest film that without big pretensions, dwells in its characters' psychology without cheap devices and keeping true to the genre. While the film could be accused of being a tad simplistic (especially when compared to Amenábar's previous film, "Abre los ojos"), what Amenábar achieves in "The Others" is to take a very traditional kind of horror story to a nearly sublime artistic level.

Certainly, "The Others" is often noted by the final plot twists of its story, in the sense that it seemed as if the movie was a mere excuse to employ that twist. However, "The Others" is a lot more than a surprising plot twist, as just like the best films with this kind of endings ("The Usual Suspects" or "The Sixth Sense" for example), the twists is not the reason for the film's existence, it's just the icing on the cake that crowns a pretty satisfying story. That is, even when knowing the nature of the twist, the film doesn't lose a bit of its strength. And this is because Amenábar doesn't have this final twist as his only card, he begins to build a fascinating and engaging plot that gives good use to the best elements of the Gothic horror subgenre and makes a work of art out of them. A true heir of Clayton's classic film.

10/10
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Dead End (2003)

At the end of the decade of the 90s, the great commercial success of several horror films brought a renewed interest in the genre, which became some kind of a renaissance during the following decade. The horror genre was again a profitable product, to the point that even big studios began to produce horror movies to satisfy the demand, resulting in the making of many big budget remakes of several classic films of the genre (the perfect example: "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" in 2003). However, and just like it had happened in previous decades, despite the huge amount of produced films, the quality wasn't always the best, and many of those films, whether they were remakes or not, ended up being pretty much forgettable. Nevertheless, a good thing that came with this popularity of horror films was the return of indie horror, which just like in previous occasions, would be where finally the most interesting films would be produced. "Dead End", a somewhat independent French-American co-production released in 2003, would be a great example of this.

"Dead End" is the story of a family trip, where the Harringtons are driving through the highway heading towards grandmother's house in order to spend the holidays there. In the car are traveling Frank (Ray Wise) and Laura Harrington (Lin Shaye), their daughter Marion (Alexandra Holden) and their son Richard (Mick Cain), as well as Marion's boyfriend Brad (Billy Asher). The dream and the nerves make Frank to almost collide with another car, so to alleviate tension, he decides to take an alternate road. Laura is upset by this, so they begin to argue again until Frank sees a woman in white (Amber Smith) carrying a baby through the woods. Frank returns to investigate if the woman is alright, as she seems hurt. The Harringtons decide to take her to a nearby cabin located a few miles back, in order to get her some help. The cabin looks empty, so Frank and Laura decide to investigate. Richard and Marion leave the car, leaving Brad alone with the strange woman, who shows him that the baby is dead. Whn they return, the family discovers that Brad is gone, and this is just the beginning of their trip through a dark road.

Written and directed by French filmmakers Jean-Baptise Andrea and Fabrice Canepa, "Dead End" presents an intelligent plot where the family problems the Harrington have come to the light as they keep on driving in this insane trip through the night. And this is precisely the greatest achievement of the films, as even when the story may not be the most original in horror, the way that Andrea and Canepa develop their characters is what ends up making the story interesting. Their hates, grudges and secrets are uncovered as the family tries to keep their sanity as they face he strange situations that take place on the road, and the deaths that begin to happen during their long voyage to madness. Mixing with great creativity the suspense with comedy, Andrea and Canepa create a story that moves with grace between the blackest humour and the classiest horror, without ever losing the right tone. The ending is perhaps a bit too predictable, but the truth is that what makes "Dead End" really special is the journey, not the destination.

In "Dead End", directors Andrea and Canepa leave aside the graphic violence of modern horror and instead they choose a style more based on atmosphere and suspense than in straight visual shock. With great skill, the filmmakers manage to create an effective feeling of paranoia as the Harrington discover that something is not exactly right with the road. Certainly, the descend to madness that this family experiences is a real nightmare, and the filmmakers truly create a very appropriate surreal atmosphere thanks to a well devised mise en scène that, as mentioned before, it's based more on suggestion than in showing. This last thing may had been the result of budgetary limitations, however, it's a wise choice as it allows the filmmakers to explore a kind of horror that's more psychological than visceral. While this may not really be the best work of cinematographer Alexander Buono, there's something in the style he employs in the film that reminds a lot to the supernatural horror cinema of the 80s (think "Phantasm"), and that the filmmakers use to their favor.

However, a lot of the success of "Dead End" depends on their actors, as it's a film based chiefly in its characters and the relationships between them. And fortunately, "Dead End" has excellent performances from the veteran actors Ray Wise and Lin Shaye. As the father figure in the Harrington family, Ray Wise makes a superb job at making a tough and aggressive character that hides an enormous fear to the horrors he is facing. Wise creates in Frank a very complex character, more complex than it shows, and while at times there's a bit of overacting on his part, in general his work in "Dead End" ranks amongst the best in his career. Actress Lin Shaye also delivers a work of great quality as his wife Laura. Playing a housewife full of secrets, Shaye makes a brilliant job, particularly shown in her timing for comedy, as it's her character the one that gives the film the touch of black humor to the plot. Young actress Alexandra Holden is perhaps less surprising, though she still makes an effective performances as the story puts her on the spotlight.

Nevertheless, not everything is perfect in "Dead End" and unfortunately, the acting done by Amber Smith and specially Mick Cain downgrade the quality of the film due to their bad quality. Cain in particular is pretty poor in his performance as Richard, and it doesn't really help the fact that his character is the less developed of the group. Despite those two details, the acting in "Dead End" is in general pretty satisfying, and one of its strongest assets. If the film has any problem, that is the fact that the film can become a bit slow and repetitive as the movie consists mainly in the family driving through a dark road. It's true that Andrea and Canepa's screenplay keeps things rolling with a good rhythm and well scripted dialogs, but "Dead End" would had been improved if more situations took place in its plot diminish the moments where nothing happens. It's worth to point out that even when "Dead End" was done with a relatively low budget, directors Andrea and Canepa manage to avoid this to be too obvious and keep the attention on the story.

Intelligent, disturbing, and with a very twisted sense of humor, "Dead End" is a film that offers somewhat of a return of a more traditional kind of horror. Thanks to the remarkable performances of Wise and Shaye, as well as the great use of atmosphere that directors Jean-Baptiste Andrea and Fabrice Canepa achieve, "Dead End" is an experience of paranoia and suspense akin to some of the best moments of "The Twilight Zone". Despits is flaws, this film once again demonstrates that with a good screenplay, it's possible to make a film of high quality even when resources are limited. And as mentioned before, while it's probable that its ending is a bit predictable, what's truly enjoyable in "Dead End" is the Harrington's descent to the dark side of the road.

7/10
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Colosio: El Asesinato (2012)

March the 23rd, 1994, the presidential candidate from the Partido Revolucionario Institucional (PRI, Institutional Revolutionary Party), Luis Donaldo Colosio, leads a campaign rally in the neighborhood of Lomas Taurinas, in the city of Tijuana. Colosio finishes his speech and steps down the stage, walking through the multitude of followers who cheer him towards the vehicle that would take him to another event. As he walks, a man gets close with a gun and shoots him in the head. Moments later, Colosio would receive a two more shots in the middle of the chaos, and later he would die in the hospital from the wounds. Colosio's assassination would leave a profound mark in Mexicos' political history, as it left multiple doubts about the identity of those who were behind the candidate's death. While the official version determined that the killing was the work of a lone shooter, the theory of a conspiracy within the Party has always been in the mind of the public. And this theory becomes the basis for a movie directed by filmmaker Carlos Bolado, who tackles the killing at Lomas Taurinas in "Colosio: El Asesinato".

Set in 1994, "Colosio: El Asesinato" (literally "Colosio: The Assassination") begins with the news of the death of the presidential candidate (Enoc Leaño) at Lomas Taurinas, seen on TV by agent Andrés Vázquez (José María Yazpik) and his family. As the official investigation begins, the President (Nando Estevané), through his adviser "the Doctor" (Daniel Giménez Cacho), orders a secret inquiry, running parallel to the official one but specifically aimed to find the intellectual authors of the crime. Andrés is called to lead the operation under the orders of the Licenciate (Odiseo Bichir), to whom he reports the result of the investigation. Andrés gathers his most trusted agents and begin to do research on those close to Colosio's presidential campaign, while in Tijuana, the local chief of police, Benítez (Dagoberto Gama) coordinates his operation with Andres' team. However, things are complicated when a mysterious assassin is killing all the suspects that Andres and Benítez are identifying. Someone doesn't want the truth regarding Colosio's assassination to be known.

Written by Hugo Rodríguez, Miguel Necoechea and director Carlos Bolado himself, "Colosio: El Asesinato" is a political thriller that details on one side the police work of investigation done by Andrés and Benítez around the crime, and on the other unfolds the complex net of secret alliances that run behind the scenes in Mexican politics. While the movie declares initially that the story is a work of fiction, the screenplay of "Colosio: El Asesinato" includes characters clearly based on the real protagonists of Mexican politics of the time and, with certain historical liberties, builds up its plot following the popular conspiracy theory in a way similar to Oliver Stone's "JFK". Beyond the politics, it's interesting the agile way in which Rodríguez, Necoechea and Bolado construct their plot with the goal of keeping the action flowing smoothly without leaving aside their harsh criticism against the Partido Revolucionario Institucional. Nevertheless, there are certain elements that aren't that well done, like the romantic side story, which feels out of place in the film.

The work of directing done by Carlos Bolado is effective and dynamic, moving through the different narratives without problems and showing a skilled use of devices such as montage sequences and flashbacks.In general, the visual narrative that Bolado employs is appropriate and his greatest achievement is the creation of an ominous atmosphere of fear and uncertainty that grows through the film as Andrés' investigation makes progress. Carefully, Bolado builds up the sensation of paranoia that begins to surround Andrés and his team as their work takes them to the inner circles of politics. The work of cinematography done by Andrés León Becker is traditional but effective, using a specific atmosphere for each location in the investigation, though everyone, from the arid desert of Tijuana to the cold walls of the Government's offices, have in common the feeling of desolation. It's worth to point out the work of Sandra Cabriada as production designer, managing to recreate the period of the film with accuracy and verisimilitude.

Leading the cast, actor José María Yazpik makes a good job as agent Andrés, evoking with ease the self-confidence and professionalism of his role. While Yazpik has a somewhat limited range, in the role of Andrés he finds a character that allows him to truly exploit his talent and screen presence. And while the movie has in Yazpik a defined protagonist, the film's plot allows the rest of the secondary characters to have their moment to shine. Fortunately, the cast makes the best of this and deliver excellent performances in the supporting roles. This is particularly note worthy in the case of Dagoberto Gama, whom makes a terrific job as the lonely Benítez, and Daniel Giménez Cacho, truly excellent as the Doctor (thinly veiled portrait of José María Córdoba Montoya), the Machiavellian presidential adviser. Giménez Cacho's acting shines in its restrained intensity, which leaves mark of his sinister presence even when he is not on screen. Without a doubt, the best acting in the film.

There are also pretty good performances by Tenoch Huerta, Luis Ernesto Franco and Karina Gidi, who play the agents working in Andrés' team (Gidi in particular is remarkable). However, there are unfortunately two performances of bad quality that diminish the strength of the film. The first is Odiseo Bichir's work, who results too stagy in his performance as the Licenciate, looking artificial and out of place given the tone of the film. Kate del Castillo is the other one, lacking screen presence in her role as Yazpik's wife and leaving her character like a side note. Nevertheless, in her case it certainly matters that her character is too underdeveloped, limiting her to represent the role of a wife forgotten by an Andrés too absorbed by his work. And this is a problem in the film, as at times it gets lost in its many subplots and leaves more than once without too much development. Also, the film falls in the big problem of conspiracy theory stories (specially those based on real life events): its argument tends to force a bit too much the common sense and the suspension of disbelief.

Nevertheless, it's commendable that director Carlos Bolado manages to create an atmosphere of paranoia so strong that those flaws do not stop the enjoyment of the movie. "Colosio: El Asesinato" may not become a classic of the genre, however, it results a very well done film that dares to touch a subject that mainstream Mexican cinema had not tackled before (in independent cinema there is the low budget "Magnicidio. Complot en Lomas Taurinas" done in 2002). Despite its problems, Carlos Bolado's "Colosio: El Asesinato" is an intelligent thriller that beyond its political agenda, shows how the assassination of Luis Donaldo Colosio is a huge shadow that still hangs over Mexican politics.

7/10
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Días de Gracia (2011)

Clash of wills, passions and dreams that are left in the field, football soccer has such a very special charm that has turned it into the most popular sport in the world. And within football, there's nothing like the fascination that's lived during a Wolrd Cup. As traditionally occur in events of this magnitude, crime tends to decrease during the days the World Cup takes place, in some kind of "days of grace" of sorts in which everyone's attention is focused on following the progress of the national team in the World Cup. This phenomenon sets the background for the feature length debut of Mexican director Everardo Valerio Gout, whom after more than a decade of producing commercials and musical videos (not to mention several short films), takes over the big screen with "Días de Gracia", an ambitious project in which two of the most representative elements of life in modern Mexico are brought together: crime and football soccer.

"Días de Gracia" (literally "Days of Grace") consists of three stories that take place during the last 3 World Cups: Korea-Japan 2002, Germany 2006 and South Africa 2010. In 2002, Lupe (Tenoch Huerta) is a young police officer trying to do his best despite the rampant corruption and indifference of society. After winning an award for his performance stopping a gang of criminals, Lupe is invited to belong to the team of Commander José (José Sefami), which will take him to the darkest side of his job. In 2006, a man (Carlos Bardem) is kidnapped outside his home, ending up tied and locked in a basement. Tortured both physically and mentally by his captors, he decides to win the trust of Iguana (Kristian Ferrer), the young kid in charge of watching him. Finally, in 2010 ,Susana is a housewife who one day awakes to the news that her husband has been kidnapped. Susana now will have to face the situation and try to keep her family together.

Written by Everardo Gout himself (along David Rutsala), "Días de Gracia" moves between time frames as it weaves the three stories, which are pretty different from each other. By the nature of the situation it depicts, the story of the kidnapped man is of a more intimate and personal drama, to the point of having the thoughts of the character as a narration on the experience. The opposite is the story of Lupe, which is one of greater action as it narrates how the young cop enters the world of corruption and hopelessness that is life of a policeman in Mexico city. In middle ground between these two extremes is the story of Susana, which carries a tone of family drama, charged of heated discussions between her, her brother-in-law and the agent working on the case. With such different elements, Gout builds up a plot that explores three different sides of a kidnapping, as he cleverly plays with time frames to enhance the narrative's rhythm.

As it tends to happen in filmmakers with a background in commercial and musical videos, Gout reveals himself as a director with a big preference for a defined visual style in the film. In "Días de Gracia", Gout and his cinematographer Luis David Sansans develop a distinctive look for each of the subplots. From the arid desolation of 2002, to the cold and claustrophobic confinement of 2006, while going through the neutral balance found in the 2010 plot. However, and while this truly gives the movie an identity of its own, there is a certain excess in the stylization in Gout's visual narrative. As if the director was decided to use any possible camera angle, as long as it looks cool and interesting, without caring if they truly add something relevant to his film. Anyways, it's worth to point out that in the midst of this excess, Gout and Sansans achieve some well done scenes, particularly in long sequences, where Sansans' talent shines.

But the strongest element in "Días de Gloria" is not the cinematography, but its cast, which is one of the most solid ones that a Mexican film has shown in 2011. As Lupe, Tenoch Huerta makes a remarkable performance worthy of recognition; natural and effective as the idealist policeman facing the enormous monster that is crime in Mexico city. Huerta is a revelation of talent, managing to transmit the difficult transformation that his character lives with frightening verisimilitude. Dolores Heredia, playing Susana, is another of the highlights of the cast, as even when her story (2010) is the least developed of the three, Heredia achieves a naturalness and an incredible strength in her performance as a truly desperate housewife. Spanish actor Carlos Bardem once again delivers a notable performance as the kidnapped man of 2006, as without using his face (his character is hooded 95% of his screen time), he truly transmits the fear and pain of his horrifying experience.

In this his feature length debut, Everardo Gout manages to give a fresh vision to a theme that has almost become a common place in modern Mexican cinema (kidnappings). However, he can't stop falling in certain problems that, while not exactly an obstacle to enjoy his film, they do diminish what could had been a greater work. For starters, Gout doesn't manage to escape the shadow of González Iñarritu's "Amores Perros", which is the most obvious reference, in both style and theme, as Gout employs a narrative a bit too similar to the one of the Iñarritu-Arriaga team. Another thing is the fact that Gout falls in a common problem in this style of narratives: one story is considerably weaker than the others. In this case, Susana's tale (2010), which is almost left aside in front of the more interesting (and better executed) ones from 2002 and 2006. The difference between those and the one from 2010 is notorious, and it's sad since not only it was the only story with a strong female character, but it was also a remarkable performance by Dolores Heredia.

Without counting those details, and the afore mentioned stylistic excess that Gout commits, this Mexican-French co-production is a highly engrossing movie that, while not entirely original in terms of them, this is compensated by an interesting visual design and a firm technical knowledge that reveal Gout as a filmmaker with w well-defined cinematographic vision, an explosive sense of rhythm, and a great skill to gather a talented team to back him up. Despite its problems, "Días de Gracia" is a dignified debut for the Mexican director Everardo Gout.

7/10
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This review was originally published in Spanish for Habitación 101 in April the 14th of 2012. Habitación 101 is a great site to check for news and reviews on cinema and theatre in Spanish.

The Artist (2011)

Since the very first public projection in 1896, cinema has seen innumerable developments through its history; however, none has been as defining as an industry as it was the arrival of sound to film in 1927. While experiments to add sound to motion pictures were as old as cinema itself, it would be the release of Warner Bros.' "The Jazz Singer" what would change the medium for ever. Fascinated by the use of synchronized sound, audiences made the movie a hit and the studios realized that the future was on the "talkies". This would begin a traumatic process of adaptation in which many legendary careers would crumble to pieces while new stars would rise to the top. This is difficult era is the period in which Michel Hazanavicius' film "The Artist" is set, as a heartfelt homage to the art of silent cinema and its stars. But French director Hazanavicius doesn't just set his film in the silent era, he also has crafted "The Artist" as a film straight from the last years of the 1920s: silent.

"The Artist" begins in 1927, at the premiere of George Valentin's (Jean Dujardin) latest film, "A Russian Affair". Valentin, a major star of American film industry, enjoys his success as part of Hollywood royalty. Outside the theatre, when Valentin is posing for pictures, a young woman named Peppy Miller (Bérenice Bejo) accidentally bumps into him. The candid photo that the reporters take of them will mark the beginning of her rising star. Peppy begins to audition for films, and after getting a part as a dancer, her path crosses Valentin again. Fascinated by her charm, Valentin demands her to have a bigger role in the film, against the wishes of studio boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman). With this role, Peppy's career begins to move slowly forward stardom. Two years later, Zimmer announces that silent films will stop being produced in favor of talkies. Valentin refuses to work in talkies, and decides to finance his own silent film. While Valetin's star begins to fade as time changes, Peppy will become the new Queen of Hollywood during the sound era.

With a screenplay by director Michel Hazanavicius himself, "The Artist" is an old school melodrama that combines drama, romance and bits of comedy to chronicle the fall of silent star George Valentin in contrast with the rise of Peppy Miller, while at the same time unfolds the relationship that begins to grow between them. The result of an extensive research, Hazanavicius's screenplay is full of references and homages to the history of cinema, starting with the character of George Valenting himself, whom is a pastiche of silent stars Douglas Fairbanks and John Gilbert. However, while "The Artist" is certainly aware of its nature as a homage, Hazanavicius doesn't take the route of mere parody, and instead remains faithful to the classic melodrama style that was so prevalent during the silent era. "The Artist" is clearly the work of a cinephile to cinephiles, a nostalgia piece, and while it certainly doesn't cover anything new (the classic musical "Singin' in the Rain" deals with the very same theme), the magic is not in its plot, but in its craftsmanship.

Because the charm of "The Artist" is in its daring return to the silent era style of filmmaking, with Hazanavicius returning to a purely visual narrative (though a couple of scenes does make use of sound for dramatic effect), replicating the tone and look of the classic Hollywood films of the 1920s. This replication involves a superb work of cinematography by Guillaume Schiffman, whom uses beautiful black and white (in Academy aspect ratio of course) to bring to life this tale of a bygone era, as if it was done with the technology available at the time. The whole production design (by Laurence Bennett) goes to a great length to replicate the silent era, however, beyond the mere technical aspects of the film, what truly captures the style of silent cinema in "The Artist" is simply Hazanavicius' fluid narrative, which as written above, it's based entirely on the visual, with a great economy of intertitles and a great knowledge of cinema's language. It's certainly a gimmick, but a gimmick that's very well introduced into the film's structure.

Acting is of course, instrumental in the recreation of silent era filmmaking, as certainly the way actors performed in those years was considerably different at the kind of work done today. As movie star George Valentin, French actor Jean Dujardin is remarkable, channeling the persona of Douglas Fairbanks to his character, Dujardin makes a terrific performance as the famous star unable to adapt to the changes. "The Artist" is Dujardin's show, and he truly makes the most of it. Bérenice Bejo plays his counterpart, Peppy Miller, the vibrant young actress who becomes the new Hollywood star as Valentin's days reach their end. Charming and full of energy, Bejo has a great charm that truly fits her role, which seems to be inspired by a young Joan Crawford. While overshadowed by Dujardin, Bejo does give her role a certain degree of class and youthfulness that suits the character like a glove. The rest of the cast is for the most part effective, though certainly their time on screen is considerable inferior. Dujardin and Bejo are the stars, and Hazanavicius makes the most of them.

However, amongst the supporting cast, it's worthy to point out the remarkable performance of James Cromwell as Clifton, Valentin's loyal butler. Cromwell imprints his role an enormous amount of dignity and expressiveness, that he perfectly transmits his character's emotions without anything else than his eyes. Cromwell's work is truly one of those little details that make "The Artist" rise from the usual variety of melodrama and make it more meaningful. Because as written above, there's really nothing new or original in "The Artist"'s storyline as it is, which echoes not only the aforementioned "Singin' in the Rain", but also classics like "A Star is Born" and "Sunset Blvd.". In this case, it's the details what truly matter, as it's there where the heart of the film is. Details like the minimal yet clever use of sound, the charming performance by Uggie the dog, and of course, the cinephilia, that cinephilia so deeply imbued in every shot. Without a doubt, "The Artist" is Hazanavicius' love letter to the silent era.

As written above, "The Artist" is a film based on a gimmick. What sets it apart is basically the unusual choice of making it a silent film. However, being that the feat is done by a cinephile, the experience becomes a joy for film savvy audiences. Certainly, this could also be a flaw, as perhaps audiences not so keen to silent cinema may not feel entirely related to the film's narrative style (it's decidedly a film of style over substance). But anyways, as gimmicky as it is, "The Artist" succeeds in making of its gimmick its greatest asset, becoming truly a silent film instead of just one replica. Hazanavicius' talent certainly has a hand in this, but perhaps the secret for this is in the heart that's been put into the film.

8/10
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L'autre monde (2010)

One of the most interesting new concepts that resulted from the creation of the Internet was that of massively multiplayer online games, that is, games where multiple players use the Internet to enter a computer-simulated world. As technology advanced, the games have become more and more detailed in their depiction of virtual worlds, to the point that games like "Second Life" have even developed its own virtual economy. Certainly, this has also raised concerns about the security and privacy of these virtual worlds, particularly because of the malicious use that could be given to them. This idea of a new brave new virtual world to explore, where one can create an identity completely different than the real one, inspired French director Gilles Marchand (of "Qui a tué Bambi?" fame) to create a story of suspense with the concept of a computer-simulated world as the basis. The result is "L'autre monde", literally "The Other World", a somber neo-noir with certain echoes of David Lynch's "Blue Velvet".

Known in English as "Black Heaven", "L'autre monde" is the story of Gaspard (Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet), a young teenager who one day finds a cellphone in beach. Along his girlfriend Marion (Pauline Etienne), Gaspard reads the text messages in it and discover a strange relationship going on between a man called Dragon (Swann Arlaud) and the phone owner, Audrey (Louise Bourgoin). Full of curiosity, Gaspard and Marion track down Dragon and Audrey, and follow them to the nearby woods, where the couple has decided to commit suicide together. Gaspard and Marion try to save them, but they can only rescue Audrey, however, they chose not to reveal their identity to her. Days after that event, Gaspard grows more and more obsessed with Audrey, specially when he discovers that Dragon and Audrey met in the popular massively multiplayer online game "Black Hole". Gaspard makes an account in "Black Hole" and meets Audrey again, but this will literally take him to another world unknown for him, a world of deceit, lies and death.

With a screenplay written by Marchand himself and Dominik Moll (director of the remarkable thriller "Harry un ami qui vous veut du bien"), "L'autre monde" chronicles Gaspard's obsessive infatuation with Audrey, the story's proverbial femme fatal. Gaspard lives in what by all accounts is a perfect world: he lives in a paradisaical seaside town, has recently moved out of home to live in a flat with his friends, and on top of that has just started a relationship with Marion. However, Audrey represents a different world for him, a dangerous yet captivating world that's new and attractive to him (danger is sexy after all). And the novelty of this world is reflected in Black Hole, the online game she frequents. Marchand and Moll make of "L'autre monde" a tale of Gaspard's loss of innocence, as the world turns out to be a lot bigger than what he, in all his adolescent naiveté, thought it was. Gaspard's descent to darkness, and the use they give to the virtual world concept as a twisted mirror of reality is particularly interesting.

This duality between the worlds, Gaspard's real life and his online ventures are portrayed by director Gilles Marchand's use of computer generated animation. The virtual world of Black Hole is an animated noir nightmare perpetually in night time with a minimalist yet decidedly Art Deco design (as contradictory as that may sound). The animation is fluid and has a certain somber beauty, which contrasts with the one of the natural landscapes Marchard's captures in Gaspard's town. Cinematographer Céline Bozon captures the vibrant colors of summer, taking advantage of the locations to create a very natural visual look. In fact, visually Marchard's "L'autre monde" is a very attractive film, which reflects perfectly the way Gaspard's life changes as he enters Black Hole and begins to have a double life there. Duality is a key aspect in "L'autre monde"'s story, and Marchard handles well the mystery aspects of the film, proving himself a capable director and storyteller. Unfortunately, his skill fails to save the screenplays' worst flaws.

The acting is pretty good for the most part, though some of the younger cast members show their lack of experience in their performances. Leading the cast as Gaspard, Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet is really good as the teenager awaking to a world bigger than him. There's great realism in his performance, as he looks convincingly as both a curious innocent and as a malicious jerk. With the film based entirely around him, Leprince-Ringuet's under a lot of pressure, but manages to carry the film convincingly. As the mysterious and alluring Audrey, Louise Bourgoin is effective, though perhaps less convincing. While definitely a beautiful woman, there's a certain stiffness in her performance that plays against her role as femme fatal. Melvil Poupaud, playing Audrey's overprotective brother Vincent is far more successful, making a convincing portrait of a violent, unpredictable man not so happy with the young Gaspard approaching his sister. Pauline Etienne as Gaspard girlfriend is good, but her role is terribly underdeveloped.

And this is perhaps the greatest problem of what otherwise could had been an awesome neo-noir thriller: it's terribly underdeveloped screenplay. Marchard and Moll have created a fascinating tale of lies and deception that truly gives an interesting use to the concept of a second virtual life. However, there's a certain restrain, an unwillingness to actually take the premise to new grounds that it's all left as a mere cautionary tale about the dangers of spending too much time on the Internet. Something that wouldn't be so tragic if it wasn't for the fact that the film seemed to be aiming for better. In "L'autre monde" Marchard conveys all the necessary ingredients for a thrilling noir story (mystery, eroticism, treachery and darkness), but ends up in an anti-climatic tone that seems to betray everything that the film was achieving. Certainly, a disappointment, as the restrain Moll and Marchard show in the weak way they end the story makes the film feel like a TV movie.

"L'autre monde" has many good things going for it, beginning with the approach Marchard takes to portray the virtual world of Black Hole, and the overall noir atmosphere the movie has. However, the weak finale is certainly a disappointment, as it undermines everything that's built initially. And perhaps the disappointment is bigger given the fact that both Marchard and Moll have proved to be skilled in the construction of thrillers (the previously mentioned "Qui a tué Bambi?" and "Harry un ami qui vous veut du bien" are more than enough proof). All in all, "L'autre monde" or "Black Heaven" isn't really a bad film, it's just nowhere near the level its interesting premise could had been taken.

6/10
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Le pacte des loups (2001)

The Beast of Gévaudan is the name of a legendary creature that, according to history, terrorized the former province of Gévaudan, France, killing nearly 100 people from 1764 to 1767. The mysterious Beast was described as a huge wolf-like creature with reddish tinge and a long tail, gifted with sharp teeth and jaws powerful enough to crush and remove the heads of its victims; and the Beast was said to prefer humans over other preys. Many attempts of hunting the beast were organized, all without luck, until according to tradition, a local hunter killed the Beast. Since the origin of the Beast was never completely cleared (and the story of its death has more the tone of legend instead of history), the monster quickly became the source of many rumors, legends and conspiracy theories. The legendary Beast soon became part of folklore and subsequently has appeared in numerous works of fiction. Director Christophe Gans' film "Le pacte des loups" is one of them, a modern retelling of the legend of la Bête du Gévaudan.

"Le pacte des loups" (literally "The pact of the wolves", but known in English as "Brotherhood of the Wolf") is the story of Grégoire De Fronsac (Samuel Le Bihan), the royal taxidermist of King Louis XV of France, who is sent to Gévaudan with his Native American friend Mani (Mark Dacascos), in an attempt to capture and study the Beast that has been terrorizing the people of Gévaudan. A skeptic of the stories about the Beast, Fronsac prefers to dedicate his efforts to romance Marianne De Morangais (Émilie Dequenne), much to the displeasure of Marianne's brother Jean-François (Vincent Cassel); however, as the killings continue happening, Fronsac begins to take his assignation more seriously, though he concludes that no normal wolf could be the responsible of the attacks. Is it a werewolf? Is it a demon?. As the story of Gévaudan reaches Paris, it begins to get used to mock the King, so the Government demands Fronsac a quick solution to the Beast problem. Soon Fronsac and Mani discover clues that point out to something bigger than any Beast they have met before.

The story of the film was written by Stéphane Cabel and Christophe Gans himself, and while it is an entirely fictional story built around the case, the plot follows somewhat closely the recorded history of the Beast's legend, particularly the one recorded on Michel Louis' book "L'Innocence des loups". Cabel and Gans' screenplay is a highly energetic mix of period drama, mystery and adventure under an ever present theme of horror. All in all being pretty much like an updated version of the period films that the legendary Hammer Films used to produce during the 60s and 70s ("Captain Kronos - Vampire Hunter" comes to mind). One should not expect a rigorous historical accuracy in "Le pacte des loups", as the film works as a historical fantasy more concerned about delivering stylish entertainment than a history lesson. Filled with intrigue, secrets and conspiracy theories, the plot at times gets a bit too confusing for its own good, and Cabel and Gans' attempt to build up a complicated mystery ends up leaving some noticeable plot holes that ultimately hurt the film a bit.

As written above, despite its convoluted storyline, "Le pacte des loups" is ultimately all about style over substance, and director Christophe Gans follows this approach displaying an amazing, fresh and vibrant visual narrative with a style that's both exciting and ominously atmospheric. In "Le pacte des loups", Gans mixes Gothic horror with the action of martial arts films, a combination that may sound odd for a film set on 18th century France, however, it actually works surprisingly well despite its obviously anachronism. Part of the success of this atypical combination is due to the sumptuous work by production designer Guy-Claude François, whom brings to life Gans vision with a sharp eye for detail. Danish cinematographer Dan Laustsen is also integral part of the lavish look the film has, as the seasoned photographer creates a colorful, yet undoubtedly Gothic visual imagery of a haunting beauty and ominous atmosphere. In a manner similar to director Tim Burton's "Sleepy Hollow", Christophe Gans resurrects the Gothic horror adventures with very good results.

French actor Samuel Le Bihan takes the lead role and gives life to taxidermist Grégorie De Fronsac, making of the role the portrait of an 18th century libertine. As Fronsac, Le Bihan is charming and witty, although his role is not a character without flaws, and Le Bihan gives his character enough emotional depth to avoid the simple caricature. Mark Dacascos plays Fronsac's best friend, the Iroquois Indian Mani, who unlike Fronsac, is of a very focused and responsible nature. Known mainly for his action films, Dacascos shows a surprising dramatic talent that coupled with his strong presence, allows him to steal the scene anytime he's on screen (Gans previously worked with him in the underrated "Crying Freeman"). Émilie Dequenne plays Marianne, Fronsac's love interest, though her weak performance makes her being often overshadowed by other members of the cast. The film's highlight is Vincent Cassel, as the bizarre Jean-François De Morangias, who creates an interesting and complex character where he can allow himself to go appropriately over-the-top.

An odd beast in its anachronism and mixture of genres, "Le pacte des loups" is an ambitious exercise, but one that ultimately succeeds in creating a captivating tale of mystery and intrigue. Closer to comic books and pulp fiction than to historical fiction, "Le pacte des loups" is a remarkable story of Gothic adventures that feels slick, stylish, and despite its Hollywood vibe, remains distinctively French. Nevertheless, as wonderful as it is, the movie is not without flaws, some related to the script itself. As mentioned before, Cabel and Gans craft a convoluted plot for the mystery, however, the last third of the film feels rushed and simplistic, as if they had not been forced to give a quick solution to their already too long story. It is a bit of a letdown after the strong built up of the first two thirds. Another quibble is the poor work of CG effects that the movie has, which are definitely not up to the standards set by the rest of the production, and cheapen an otherwise lavish visual style.

Director Christophe Gans has created in "Le pacte des loups" an enjoyable genre piece that is actually very good in its own terms. Against all odds, the fusion of Gothic horror, detective fiction and martial arts films works out seamlessly, and the result is a fresh and inventive tale of horror and adventure that's ultimately satisfying. While "Le pacte des loups" is certainly not a redefinition of cinema or its genres, it is a thrilling adventure that fully delivers good entertainment. Like the movies by Hammer Films used to do in their heyday, "Le Pacte Des Loups", or "Brotherhood of the Wolf", is a full fledged roller-coaster of action and horror. In "Le pacte des loups" director Christophe Gans brings back the sense of awe that used to be part of adventure films.

8/10
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Delicatessen (1991)

In the late 70s, french director Jean-Pierre Jeunet and designer Marc Caro met at a film festival and found they had a lot in common regarding their view on visual arts. Wit Jeunet being an animator, and Caro a comic book artist, their friendship soon became an artistic team that would spend the following decade making short films and TV commercials where the duo was able to develop their artistic style and master the cinema language, perfecting their storytelling abilities and visual design skills. All done in order to prepare themselves to begin a full-time career in film-making. Their joint efforts finally payed back in 1991, when Jeunet and Caro were finally able to take their craft to the level of a full feature length film, in the project that would become their breakthrough in the film industry and the proper beginning of their careers as filmmakers: the post-apocalyptic black comedy "Delicatessen". Zany, whimsical, a times morbid, at times sweet, "Delicatessen" would introduce the talents of Jeunet and Caro to the world.

The world of "Delicatessen" is a dark bleak post-apocalyptic France where apparently there is no law and food is incredibly sparse (to the point that grain is now being used as currency). In this desolated urban nightmare, the residents of an old, dilapidated apartment building located in the middle of nowhere have a solution to the hunger that roams the world thanks to the schemes of their landlord, the butcher Clapet (Jean-Claude Dreyfus). The butcher's solution is to kill the building's handyman and use him as meat to feed his bizarre group of tenants; and after that Clapet offers again the position of handyman to outsiders, in order to find more fresh meat. One day, former clown Louison (Dominique Pinon) arrives to the building and gets the handyman position, and soon it is set that he'll be the next victim; however, the butcher's daughter Julie (Marie-Laure Dougnac) has fallen in love with Louison, and she will do whatever is necessary to help the naive clown to survive and stop the madness of her father's delicatessen.

Written by Gilles Adrien (who also wrote several of the previous Jeunet & Caro shorts), along directors Jeunet & Caro themselves, "Delicatessen" is a wonderfully imaginative tale of sweet romance and hilarious black comedy that gives an unexpected light-hearted twist to a topic one may normally found a tad morbid for a comedy: cannibalism. And surprisingly, it all works bizarrely fine, not only because of the whimsical, surrealist and almost absurd tone that the story has, but also because of the detailed assortment of strange yet very human characters that populate the world of "Delicatessen". This collection of human oddities truly become the movie's soul, adding a lot of charm and heart to the film with their highly detailed antics and traits, as if each one has a small but necessary piece in a complex machine. The story, stripped down to its most basic, it is actually a very simple one; however, the darkly humorous tone and the charm of its characters transform it into a weird yet enjoyable experience.

Nevertheless, it is in the visual aspect where the film truly shines and becomes simply sublime, with Jeunet and Caro's highly imaginative style appearing all over the place. Dividing responsibilities, director Marc Caro got full control of the production design and the visual elements of the movie, and so in "Delicatessen" Caro's highly inventive artistic vision results in a vibrant imagery that seems to be the dark offspring of Cinéma du look and a heavily retro-futurist vibe, creating a movie that could be described as a moving canvas. Highly atmospheric, the french duo puts to great use the work of cinematographer Darius Khondji, mixing techniques and showing a huge range of their artistic influences that go from German Expressionism to 40s modernism, resulting in one of the most beautiful looking movies ever done. Jeunet's visual narrative is slick and coherent in tone, giving substance to Caro's style, saving the film from being a hollow visual fest. It could be said that Jeunet's work is keeping the many elements of the film working nicely in the right place. And he succeeds.

As written above, it's in the characters and their antics where the "Delicatessen"'s soul is, and the ensemble of actors playing them really made a terrific job in the film. Leading the cast is Dominique Pinon (who would become one of Jeunet's regular collaborators), delivering a subtle and charming performance as the ex-clown Louison. Pinon gives the character a very human touch, essential for the kind of character he is playing, and this human touch coupled with his facial expressiveness at times makes him like the spiritual heir of the kind of silent film comedy that Chaplin used to do. Truly believable in the role, Pinon handles the film's sardonic situations with a great comedic timing and a lot of physical expression. The same can be said of Marie-Laure Dougnac, who plays Louison's love interest Julie, and captures the sweetness and naiveté of her character in a very natural way. Jean-Claude Dreyfus as Clapet the Butcher is simply delightful as the story's "villian", and achieves equal levels of nastiness and hilarity with his work.

Basically every member of the cast delivers an unforgettable performance no matter how long or short is their screen time (Silvie Laguna for example, is really wonderful), and this is truly a testament not only of the cast's skill, but also of the writers' wit and love for the project. "Delicatessen" is a solid debut by this two skillful french artists, and it already shows why the two quickly became an important team in the French fantasy cinema. Their very own brand of surrealist fantasy flows freely through the film making a unique visual fest (although to be fair, it definitely goes a over-the-top at times, particularly at the end), and while it doesn't reach the artistic level of their superior follow-up (the 1995 dark tale of science fiction "La Cité Des Enfants Perdus"), it's still a nicely done movie that delivers good entertainment and showcases its director's narrative talents. While its subject matter may be difficult to stomach, "Delicatessen"'s whimsical tone and lavish visual style make this filmic dish an exquisite oddity.

Unlike their later films, maybe "Delicatessen" won't be everyone's cup of tea, as its surreal fantasy may seem at times too close to absurd to be enjoyable. However, those with a taste for the bizarre will find a great movie in this French comedy. While "Delicatessen" still shows the excess of the young and raw talent of Jeunet & Caro, it's not hard to see why they became known worldwide after this initial success, as this movie shows the enormous potential of their skills as filmmakers. This brilliant mixture of genres is definitely a very recommended movie, and like "La Cité Des Enfants Perdus" ("The City of the Lost Children" in English), "Delicatessen" is an essential gem of French cinema of the 90s.

8/10
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Blood: The Last Vampire (2009)

 In the year 2000, famed anime producers Mitsuhisa Ishikawa and Mamoru Oshii released a short anime film that showcased revolutionary animation and a stylish visual design: "Blood: The Last Vampire". A tale of action and horror directed by Hiroyuki Kitakubo, "Blood: The Last Vampire" became one of the most popular and successful anime films of all time, earning worldwide praise because of its innovative animation and haunting atmosphere. Its popularity was big enough that soon talks began about adapting the short film to a live action feature length movie with William Kong ("Wo hu cang long") as producer and Ronny Yu ("Huo Yuan Jia") as director. Several changes took place and in the end, "Blood: The Last Vampire" ended up becoming a Chinese-French co-production with filmmaker Chris Nahon ("Kiss of the Dragon") at the director's seat. Unfortunately, the new incarnation of "Blood: The Last Vampire" resulted having nothing of what made the original good, and having instead a lot more of what prevented the original from being a true classic.

"Blood: The Last Vampire" is the story of Saya (Korean actress Jun Ji-hyun, using the English screen name Gianna Jun), a four hundred years old demon hunter. A half human-half-vampire, Saya was trained as a samurai and uses her supernatural abilities working for a secret organization named "The Council", which has been hunting demon vampires for centuries. Saya's relationship with The Council is a difficult one, and she only helps them out of a personal desire for revenge, as the ancient vampire Onigen (Koyuki) murdered her father. In the early 1970s, The Council takes Saya to U.S.-occupied Japan, sending her undercover as a student in Kanto High School near the Yokota Air Base. At school she saves Alice (Allison Miller), the general's base's daughter, from being killed by two classmates (Masiela Lusha and Ailish O'Connor), whom are actually vampires in disguise. Alice is shocked by the sight of Saya butchering her classmates and asks her father, General McKee (Larry Lamb) for help. Alice will soon discover that Saya is actually the only one who can help her.

Adapted by Chris Chow (writer of Yu's "Huo Yuan Jia"), this new version of "Blood: The Last Vampire" retains the basic core storyline of the anime film and adds diverse subplots and backstory to the film's characters. Certainly, the lack of any depth or backstory was one of the biggest flaws in the original "Blood: The Last Vampire", and Chow makes a commendable attempt at expanding the storyline in order to give some reasons and motives to the characters' actions. However, Chow's take at filling the holes in the unfinished story of the original "Blood: The Last Vampire" is not entirely a successful one. Chow abuses of tired clichés of the genre, and does it in a rather simplistic and cheapening manner. There are positive ideas, like the addition of Alice, which allows a greater development of Saya's personality; however, the convoluted plot is still plagued by holes and the bad habit of making Saya a flawless, practically invincible protagonist. Along with the lack of a strong villain, this results in a really unengaging story.

French director Chris Nahon shows off a vibrant, highly energetic visual style that is quite attractive visually, however, his narrative style is sloppy and fails to fully develop the film's concept. Granted, Chow's screenplay is not without its problems, but it is ultimately Nahon's directing what gives the final blow to "Blood: The Last Vampire". To be fair, Nahon does capture the stylish look and dark atmosphere of the anime, and recreates quite faithfully the original's action sequences. Hang-Sang Poon's work of cinematography actually gives the movie a distinctive personality of its own, and Clint Mansell's score is a highlight of the film. However, Nahon fails to translate Chow's screenplay to visual storytelling, and when it expands beyond the anime's plot, Nahon's tacky narrative seems to prefer flashy action scenes over advancing the plot and, while the action scenes do feature great work of choreography, it all gets messy thanks to some of the worst CG visual effects in a film of this caliber.

The performances by the cast range from very good to dreadful, and unfortunately this can be witnessed first-hand in the work of lead actresses. Gianna Jun is a joy to watch, and actually puts up a good effort as the demon hunter Saya. Without saying much, the young actress can express a wide variety of emotions, and also showcases talent for action sequences. On the other hand, Allison Miller delivers a pretty poor performance as Alice, and transforms what could had been an interesting role into a quite stereotypical token character that only serves as simplistic foil for Gianna's character. The difference between them is abysmal, and their lack of chemistry can be felt. Japanese actress Koyuki, who plays Onigen, is pretty much in the middle, delivering a pretty average performance, though to be fair, hers is the worst developed character, a mere caricature of what a villain should be. Irish actor Liam Cunningham gets wasted in a similarly underwritten role. The rest of the cast is pretty average as well.

If the original "Blood: The Last Vampire" lacked a proper story, Nahon's version lacks proper storytelling. More interested in crafting acting sequences, Nahon fails to give space to his characters, and leaves Chow's already convoluted screenplay an even more confusing mess. Despite his visual flare, Nahon is unable of letting the story flow visually, resorting to expositive dialogs and lengthy flashbacks to advance the plot. Still, Chow's screenplay is not without its fair share of flaws, the main one being the lack of a remotely interesting villain. The vampire demon Onegin sounds like an interesting character, but it is flatly developed and ends up being a quite lifeless entity no better than the other ninjas and vampires that are killed. Alice, a character that could had given great depth to Saya, becomes an underused element that seems to serve only to act like a damsel in distress, waiting for Saya to save her. The convoluted plot involving the CIA, the Council and the army is too carelessly developed and seems to be there to fill space.

Unfortunately, Chirs Nahon's "Blood: The Last Vampire" has more flaws than virtues, as it wastes an original concept in a quite typical action film with horror elements that adds nothing new to the genre (neither the original anime did, but at least it had an innovative work of animation). Certainly, the film has some good assets, particularly Gianna Jun's performance and the remarkable work of stunt choreography in the fight scenes. Sadly, it's not enough to save the lousy narrative and messy storytelling that plagues Nahon's "Blood: The Last Vampire". The myth of the vampire has inspired a vast amount of stories and interpretations, and probably will keep inspiring many more. Sadly, Nahon's "Blood: The Last Vampire" is not the one to look for a good action-packed vampire story.

4/10
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Le président en promenade (1896)

In 1895, the debut of the Lumières' Cinématographe truly marked the beginning of a new era of entertainment, and the birth of a new art form. Edison's Kinetoscope was already well known, so the idea of motion pictures wasn't really new; however, the major difference between the Kinetoscope and the the Cinématographe was that the former was an individual experience and the latter a collective one. Their first movies consisted mainly of images from everyday life in movies named "actuality films", which depicted life as it is and technically were the precursors of modern documentaries. Soon the demand for more movies for the Cinématographe grew, and the brothers began to train camera operators to send all over the world, in order to produce more actuality films with scenes from across the globe (and of course, to take their invention to other markets). Mexico, under the rule of president Porfirio Díaz, was one of the first countries to welcome the Lumières' new creation, and cinematographer Gabriel Antoine Veyre was the man in charge of taking cinema to the Mexican lands in 1896.

"Le président en promenade" (better known by its Spanish title "El presidente de la republica paseando a caballo en el bosque de Chapultepec" or "The president riding his horse in Chapultepec forest") was one of the first amongst Veyre's shorts made specifically about president Díaz. It showcases the president riding his horse through Chapultepec (a still popular walk in Meixco's capital) and arriving to a place where he meets a soldier. They exchange words and then the president seems to wait something. Later, Díaz returns from where he came followed by the group that was apparently waiting for him. Several other citizens are seen walking through Chapultepec forest in an otherwise normal day in the city. Díaz seems to really understand the impact that cinema could have in the audiences so, aware that this film was to be seen across the globe, Díaz rides his horse in front of the camera, in an imposing and knightly stance with the dignity of a great ruler. Like most of the Lumières'actuality films, Veyre's had this done in one single take without moving the camera.

President Porfirio Díaz had been ruling Mexico since 1876, in what effectively was a dictatorship, nowadays known as the Porfiriato. Those were years of a totalitarian control of power, suppression of opposing media, and several other injustices; however, those were also years of great progress and economic development for the country. This progress was a direct result of Díaz' desire of bringing modernity to Mexico and his openness to industrial and technological inventions. Naturally, cinema attracted him so, his government welcomed Gabriel Veyre and the Cinématographe with open arms. During his visit, Veyre captured many scenes of Mexican life, staged what could probably the first Mexican fiction movie ("Un duelo a pistola en el bosque de Chapultepec", or "A duel with pistols at Chapultepec forest") and followed president Díaz in his everyday life. Díaz seems to have enjoyed this films so much, clearly understanding the value of cinema in public relations, so there are many scenes of Díaz walking, riding, working, essentially making the president the very first star of Mexican cinema.

Like many other countries, Mexico fell under the spell of the Cinématographe, and Veyre's visit captured the imagination of many businessmen and artists in the country. Cinema, like many other inventions, was welcomed and supported by the government and soon, the public's demand was greater than the offer. This resulted in the birth of Mexican cinema, with the distributors being forced to make their own material when the French one proved to not be enough. Mexican Reolution of 1910 put an end to Díaz' government and borough greater changes to the country. Certainly, Díaz' regime had many problems and shortcomings; however, while the dictator and his regime may not had been the best for most Mexicans, credit goes to Díaz for having helped in the birth of Mexican cinema, and for being Mexico's first movie star.

8/10

L'Âge d'Or (1930)

In the mid 20s, a young and enthusiast Luis Buñuel was decided to get involved in the French film industry after having been fascinated by the works by Fritz Lang. This determination took him to get a job as a production assistant in Jean Epstein's 1926 film, "Mauprat". Buñuel's dedication soon made him assistant director in later works by Epstein and Mario Naplas, where he would learn the basics of the craft. Finally, Buñuel would debut as a director in 1929 with a 16-minute short film titled "Un chien andalou" (literally, "An Andalusian Dog"). Written by painter Salvador Dalí and Buñuel himself, "Un chien andalou" was an experimental film that followed a surreal storyline composed of a series of allegoric (and often nightmarish) scenes based on dreams that Dalí and Buñuel had written. The innovative short film was a success amongst the French artistic community, and increased interest in the Spaniard filmmaker. French nobleman Vicomte Charles de Noailles and his wife, Marie-Laure de Noailles, decided to produce Buñuel's first feature-length film: "L'Âge d'Or".

Known in English as "The Golden Age", "L'Âge d'Or" opens with images that seem like a fragment from a documentary about scorpions, detailing their nature and habits, making emphasis in their lack of tolerance to others and their poisonous sting. Then the "main storyline" begins properly, which presents the efforts of a man and a woman to love each other despite the forces that conspire against them, namely society, authority and religious organizations. This story unfolds through a series of vignettes tied together without any apparent structure; however, these vignettes in fact represent Buñuel and Dalí's own subversive ideas about society, put together in accordance to the surrealist principles they were familiar, pretty much in a similar way to their previous effort, "Un chien andalou". Nevertheless, while "Un chien andalou" works as a nightmare (or better said, a vision) come to life; "L'Âge d'Or", works more like a graphic representation of the train of thought that these two artists had at the time. Is it a revolution or a joke? Perhaps, "L'Âge d'Or" tried to be a bit of both.

Written by director Luis Buñuel and painter Salvador Dalí (though Buñuel argues that Dalí's collaboration was minimal), the vignettes of "L'Âge d'Or" contain a darkly perverse brand of humor, employing an apparently light-hearted comedy to deliver its sharp, merciless attacks. Nothing escapes from Buñuel's sting, from the Catholic Church to the militia, the happily ignorants and the arrogant intellectuals, the civil authority, the government and of course, at the top of all, the bourgeoisie society. The message being, apparently, that love can't reach its full potential because it suffers under the oppressive moral of society, which represses sexuality while at the same time breeds and propagates vices of worse nature. Violence and its absurdity is also tackled by Buñuel, as violence seem to be the only available escape for the otherwise repressed passions. Violence that goes from the abuse of a little dog to the cold blooded murder of a child. Of course, all this is handled with the same light-hearted tone that Buñuel uses through the film, accentuating its absurdity.

In this his first feature length film, Buñuel certainly showcases his domain of cinema as an artistic expression. "L'Âge d'Or" is a film that oozes symbolism, and practically every vignette was carefully planned to convey a certain, very specific message. Still, while even at this early stage Buñuel's mastery of cinema as a language is out of the question, at the time when "L'Âge d'Or" was made Buñuel was still learning the technique, and it shows in several parts. The disjointed, surreal narrative, while powerful and effective in "Un chien andalou", feels broken and incomplete in "L'Âge d'Or". Buñuel's editing is still abrupt and forced, and some vignettes would benefit of an easier transition (granted, "L'Âge d'Or" was not meant to be a film easy to digest). Albert Duverger's work of cinematography is truly exquisite in certain scenes (the famous scene of the religious statue for example), but there are points in which it feels surprisingly amateurish. Certainly, Buñuel's eye was still developing his very own style, but as a whole, it feels a work a tad amateurish at first glance.

Acting through "L'Âge d'Or" is for the most part effective, considering the goals of the film, as it should be noted that given the nature of the film, the performances tend to be hammy, overacting every emotion and expression. It's after all, a parody of self-righteousness, and a film done in the style of silent cinema. As one of the two protagonists, Lya Lys plays the young girl (the characters lack names), and she basically portrays an archetype of femininity (feminity as understood by Buñuel of course). The young girl is fragile and elegant, yet at the same time full of passion. Gaston Modot, delivering a truly remarkable performance, plays her counterpart, the equally unnamed man (as if was to represent all men). Modot's character is also filled with passion, but as the authorities oppress him, his passion finds an outlet in violence, and begins his struggle to satisfy his love (or is it lust? Both are equally important in "L'Âge d'Or" as purer expressions of humanity). The rest of the cast is effective, for the most part, though nothing particularly surprising.

Certainly, "L'Âge d'Or" is quite an ambitious film, with its cruel yet humorous attacks to social order and its complex symbolism; nevertheless, I personally found it a bit too full of itself for its own good. Some of Buñuel's targets are pretty obvious and, since the attacks are anything but subtle, the film can feel less witty and more childish than what was expected. Of course, the disjointed narrative also becomes a bit of a problem as the movie, being of a higher complexity and longer runtime than "Un chien andalou", tends to lose its point at several parts, and some vignettes do feel forced within the narrative. It's clear that Buñuel had in mind something big with the making of this project but, it seems that it was a project still too big for his creative mind at that moment. Granted, "L'Âge d'Or" was designed to be more symbolic than explicit, more an experience than an entertainment, and definitely more emotional than rational; but the overall experience is one of an unfulfilled mission.

Of course, Luis Buñuel would tackle surrealism later in his career, with the crowing pieces of his surrealist oeuvre being his 70s films, "Le charme discret de la bourgeoisie" ("The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie") and "Le Fantôme de la liberté" ("The Phantom of Liberty"), which would earn him the title of master of surrealism. While probably not entirely satisfying, "L'Âge d'Or" was a clear signal of the interests of the young Buñuel and, despite its many flaws, shows that even at this early stage of his career the vision of Buñuel was already developed (His technique would improve and blossom later, during his exile in Mexico). "L'Âge d'Or" or "The Golden Age", is a difficult film to watch (personally, it wouldn't be my first choice for an afternoon), but truly a key one that has to be experienced to discover the origins of Luis Buñuel and the core of surrealist cinema.

7/10
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Watch "L'Âge d'Or" (1930)

Un Chien Andalou (1929)

One of the most famous short films in the world is definitely Luis Buñuel's debut, "Un Chien Andalou" (literally, "An Andalusian Dog"), and not without a reason, as this 16 minute film's influence extents beyond the cinema and is considered a milestone of the surrealist movement of the late 20s. After watching Fritz Lang's "Der müde Tod" in 1921), Buñuel became fascinated with cinema, and decided to learn as much as possible about it. He became acquainted with filmmaker Jean Epstein and began to work with him as an assistant in Epstein's "Mauprat", and also looked for work in every production he could. Through this experiences, Buñuel not only learned the technique of filmmaking, but also met some of the cast and crew that would help him in his first experiment. 1929 saw the release of the brainchild of director Luis Buñuel and painter Salvador Dalí, "Un Chien Andalou", which has become an enormously influential work of art, necessary to understand the work of these two masters of surrealist art.

Conceived as a series of scenes without an apparent order, the film has no explicit plot and instead it follows a dream logic where the "dreams" share only actors, characters, themes or motifs, without being explicitly "connected". This logic (or lack of logic) makes the film very much akin to Freudian free association, as while there is no apparent link between the scenes, a subliminal bond exists between them, making "Un Chien Andalou" an visual experiment that expresses the dreams that its creators had. The surreal scenes include the famous scene where a woman's eye is slit by a razor blade, an androgynous woman poking at a severed hand in the street with her cane and ants emerging from a man's hand. It's definitely a pure and raw form of surrealism that attempts to provoke feelings and emotions with its images rather than with its storytelling. It is not that he film lacks any meaning, but that such meaning is expressed in symbols, not with words. It is because of this domain of image and symbology over any traditional plotline that "Un Chien Andalou" has been labeled as a precursor of modern music videos.

Due to its nature, the film depends on the visual impact of its images, and Buñuel manages to make the most of his resources giving the scenes a haunting beauty and a powerful impact to its meaning. It was not only a surrealist statement, "Un Chien Andalou" was also Buñuel's experimenting with film and learning a lot in the process. Cinematographer Albert Duverger, whom first met Buñuel on Epstein's film "Mauprat", employs a quite dynamic technique for its time; and with clever use of lighting, creates an unsettling atmosphere that conveys that aura of mystery and fantasy that exists in dreams. Following the film's dream logic, one could say that Duverger and Buñuel achieve to make the movie flow from dream to nightmare and viceversa. Rich in symbols (that may or may no thave any real meaning) and full of haunting images, "Un Chien Andalou" is certainly one of the movies in which the visuals carry the sense of story in its most extreme form. While unsettling at times and definitely aggressive, the movie is a joy to watch even when the experience is more akin to watch moving canvas rather than a movie the way we are used to it.

The film is hard to understand, and ambiguous enough to the point that probably only Buñuel and Dalí knew exactly what it was supposed to mean. However, that's probably the point of it, to create emotions rather than to simply transmit them. As he states in his autobiography ("My Last Sigh", 1983), the film was made with the intentions that "no idea or image that might lend itself to a rational explanation of any kind would be accepted". In the way that Dalí made his paints, Buñuel crafted his entrance to the artform that would become his life. While one could nitpick the production values of the film (or the acting, which at times is a bit awkward), the whole artistic meaning of "Un Chien Andalou" minimize those problems to the point of making them irrelevant. The whole dreamlike imagery that Buñuel and Dalí have created in this short film trascended the normal way of storytelling, and finished to create the surrealist cinema. It's not a movie easy to like, but it's certainly one impossible to forget,

"Un Chien Andalou" is definitely one of Buñuel's most important films, not only viewing it globally, as a landmark of the surrealist movement; but also on a personal way, as the many things Buñuel himself learned during the process of making it had an enormous influence over his career. While both Buñuel and Dalí feared a bad response from the public, "Un Chien Andlou" became quite popular, and became the beginning of Buñuel's promising career (a career that was unfortunately put temporarily on stand by because of the Spanish Civil War). Original, thought-provoking and enormosuly ambiguous, this short film is a must-see not only for Buñuel fans, but also for everyone interested in film as an art form.

9/10

Le chaudron infernal (1903)

While an enormously influential pioneer on the field of special effects, French director Georges Méliès was oddly not that interested in making color films in his career. The reasons behind this apparent lack of interest were probably related to how costly and laborious was the process of hand-coloring frame by frame, as while his first hand-colored movie was done in 1897 ("L'Hallucination De l'Alchimiste"), he wouldn't attempt to make another one until 1903, when the hand-colored movies done by Edison's Studios became to be as popular as his films. That year, right after the enormous success of his masterpiece, "Le Voyage Dans la Lune" ("A Trip to the Moon"), Méliès directed 3 shorts that he colored himself: "La Guirlande Merveilleuse", "Le Cake-walk infernal" and "Le Chaudron infernal". Of the three, "Le Chaudron infernal" (or "The Infernal Cauldron") is the most well-known, mainly because this film followed Méliès' interest in the horror genre.

"Le Chaudron infernal" (also known as "The Infernal Boiling Pot" by some sources) is a movie about an evil green-skinned Demon (Georges Méliès, of course), who works as an executioner in Hell. Another demon in charge of bringing him the condemned, begins his work by sending a woman to the Executioner, who joyfully ties her and throws her into the big cauldron he has in his room. His assistant brings him another two condemned, this time two male courtiers, who follow the woman to her fate inside the boiling pot. As the bodies enter the cauldron the infernal flames grow bigger and reach an enormous size. After putting the three inside the cauldron, the Demon stirs up the remains and suddenly the smoke that comes from the cauldron begins to form images that resemble the bodies of the condemned. Realizing that this are the souls trying to escape, the Demon will raise the fire from Hell to stop them from escaping.

Among Méliès' many fantasy films, "Le Chaudron infernal" is definitely one of the most impressive of all despite its short runtime, as the addition of color takes the film to a whole new level, making Méliès' many tricks look even more amazing than before. To his usual array of dissolves and camera tricks, Méliès added the effects of drawing over the celluloid (an effect made famous years later by the "Godzilla" films of the 60s), using the hand-coloring technique not only to make the film look nicer, but to make an effect in itself. On a completely different subject, it's interesting to see that in this movie Méliès continues his preference for themes of horror and black magic, as he knows that it's in the horror genre where he'll be able to exploit his special effects to shock and impress his audience.

Being objective, the only problem of "Le Chaudron infernal" is definitely its runtime, as considering that by 1903 Georges Méliès had already done "Le Voyage Dans la Lune", one would think that this film is a bit too short. However, there is a reason for this considerably shorter runtime: it's short because the process of coloring the film was lengthy, and Méliès wasn't able to make longer colored films (and as written above, that's why he only made 7 colored shorts in his career). Despite this problems, "Le Chaudron infernal" is definitely one of the most interesting movies done by the legendary French magician, not only because of its inventive use of color as a special effect, but also because of its place in the history of the horror genre. This movie is definitely pure Cinemagic.

8/10