Manhunter (1986)
Around this time twenty-five years ago, at the tender age of 14, I had just finished reading Thomas Harris' Red Dragon. Described as the first of the Hannibal Lecter series (even though he's barely in it), it was a cold, clinical and therefore chilling read. One that gave you an equal amount of insight into the mindset of the protagonist as well as the antagonist.
I quickly discovered that it had been made into a film by Michael Mann (whom, twenty years ago, had just released the excellent and underrated The Insider) and so quickly sought it out.
The first thing that hits you is that this is a very good-looking movie. It's stylised, clinical, cold and utterly gorgeous. Amazingly, this doesn't detract from the horror on display but rather exacerbates it. Take the infamous wheelchair sequence as an example. The use of home video further adds to the unsettling atmosphere, with the opening sequence epitomising this.
Secondly, the performances are nuanced and unforgettable. Tom Noonan is exceptional as a pathetic, lumbering Francis Dolarhyde who commits heinous crimes. William L. Peterson (once regarded as a future movie star) is in the form of his life as a man who knows he has the know how to catch people like Dolarhyde but wants to forget all about it. And Brian Cox as Hannibal Lecter is much more downplayed and deadpan than Anthony Hopkins hammy (but iconic) delivery in the future films.
Thirdly, the script does a stellar job of translating Harris' book onto screen in such a way that nothing feels left out. It's a visual, visceral and aural treat.
Kill List (2011)
Once described as a cross between Get Carter 🎥 Lost 🎥 The Wicker Man, this was the film that cemented Ben Wheatley's reputation as a filmmaker with extraordinary potential, something which he has consolidated with the likes of High Rise and A Field in England.
Right from the start, the mood is one of claustrophobia. Dialogue is often muttered or fired out so quick as to be incomprehensible. The fast-cutting leaves you no time to think about what has just happened. As the film progresses, and becomes even more violent, the muted colours on show display a murky, grimy everyday existence (which, arguably, makes the violence all the more brutal).
Much has been made of the ambiguity of the tale. An issue which is bound to divide those who wish to have a bit of backstory verses people who just go with the flow. For me, there is enough here to allow the viewer to fill in their own interpretation of what's going on. The fact that I never questioned the logic on display meant that the film was working for me, as each twist and turn brought a new surprise and abject horror. In a way, it reminds me of when noted director Yorgos Lanthimos talked about his film Dogtooth: "people are always trying to get me to confirm their point of view and I just won't do it. If I wanted to talk about social problems or politics, I'd become a writer."
Besides, that's often the greatest horror for many. That there are forces out there who have the potential to take over our lives, and there's nothing we can do about it.
Simply put, you need to see this.
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)
As much a film about horror as it is a horror film, John McNaughton's film is a genuine tour de force. One that has you in a vice like grip from the opening credits all the way through to the end. This is down to the compelling direction, the terrifying performances and the bleakness of the settings. There is nothing glamorous on display, which grounds the violence in brutal realism. Also, the soundtrack deserves credit for being so simple, so stark and fitting the mood impeccably.
Completed in 1986, the film sat on the shelves for a few years as distributors were afraid to send it to the BBFC and the MPAA for fear of it not being classified. Midnight screenings and festival appearances saw the film gain an appreciative audience and it was eventually released in 1991.
The most notorious sequence (the home invasion) was, infamously, re-edited and re-sequenced by the BBFC when the film was first released on VHS. James Ferman, the chief censor, seemed to be all too aware of the implications of the scene. This, surely, is a prime example of where state censorship can go if left unprotested.
Nowadays the film is available uncut, but viewers are advised to proceed with caution. This is not a glamorous exploitation film, nor is it a brainless slasher. What it is is an attempt to examine just how seemingly ordinary people can commit such heinous crimes, while asking the viewer why we would be watching such a film.
Certainly not one for the easily startled (I know a few people who, to this day, shudder at the thought of the film) but it is one that will linger long in the memory and leave you utterly chilled at the mundanity of evil.
The Neon Demon (2016)
A seemingly simple tale about a young girl going to the big city to pursue her dreams, it's a deranged, off-kilter look at a world that is all style but has little in the way of substance, populated by drones who can't help but give off a creepy vibe with their paused dialogue and long stares.
Visually, the film is gorgeous. There's one moment on the runway which acts as the moment when the main character is crossing the Rubicon. The music and visuals are utterly seductive, making the lure of the limelight all too seductive. Los Angeles has never looked this beautiful.
I've often surmised the film as being an amalgamation of David Lynch (for the characters), Dario Argento (for the spectacle) and Michael Mann (for the visuals). It's a divisive mix (plenty of people told me it was one of the worst films that they've seen), but one that blew me away. The key is to simply go with it and allow yourself to be seduced.
Apart from one rather silly scene (which caused me to shout "aw for fuck's sake" in the cinema) which threatens to derail proceedings, it is a highly enjoyable, surrealist and sinister film about horror. Some absolutely stunning shots, proper colours to scenes and a terrific soundtrack.
Raw (2017)
Although it has the potential to veer off into explicit identity politicking, it manages to stay on track and the overall result is a fantastic depiction of the pains of conformity, finding one's identity amidst being openly manipulated.
Visually, the film is often brightly lit giving the sense that this is a brand-new world waiting to be explored. When contrasted with the mundane realities, it can unsettle the viewer. And when the horror elements are introduced, the contrast between the mundane and the lighting add a surrealist element to proceedings. As such an example, look at the segment when the protagonist Justine is getting a wax from her roommate.
The environment of the vet school, normally regarded as a serious place of study, is one of conformity and lack of respect to animals. There's one particular shot which springs to mind, where the camera lingers on a stuffed toy (meant to be a lamb, I think) which has been hung around its neck by wires and has red paint coming from its neck. Meanwhile, a party is going on.
With Justine being a vegetarian, this quickly becomes a problem for those in the school. As a result, every bit of humiliation and every bad choice she makes, we see it through her eyes, becoming more horrified as events unfold.
Director Julia Ducournau has given us a visual, visceral feast of a movie, being both a horror film, and a film about horror. All the performances are top notch, and it resists the temptation to make its central thesis an abbreviation from the norm. Instead, it's presented as if perfectly normal.
Also, is it pro-vegetarian or pro-meat? I'll let you decide.
⏩ Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland. He is currently the TPQ Friday columnist.
