"Dutch Pyschological Horror or Another Reason to Stay Indoors."

The Vanishing (1988)



The Vanishing is one of those films that I just love. The plot is simple, the cast is minimal, there is no superficial action or violence, and yet it's effect is powerful and significant.

Without ruining anything, I can tell you that Rex and his love interest, Seskia, are going on a road trip. Soon after, Seskia is abducted. I can tell you this because the film uses "what you know" as a method of building suspense. It works in a way I found very interesting and I recall an overwhelming sense of dread during the entirety of the film's first 25 minutes.

The remainder of the film is a meditation on the obsession of two men, Rex and Seskia's abductor. Rex hopes to find the whereabouts of his missing friend, now gone for three years. He plasters fliers all over the city and is the guest on television shows. He is unable to form a new love relationship because of his endless desire to know just what happened to Seskia.

The abductor becomes aware of Rex and his efforts to find the truth. With the same intensity, the abductor actually begins to follow Rex. This leads to a relationship which ends so dramatically that my stomach began to ache and I wanted the film to end. Please note, this is not because of graphic or sexual violence. Director George Sluizer was able to accomplish a level of true climatic suspense without having to blow things up or cut things off.

It appears that Sluizer has actually directed an American remake of this film for $20 million dollars, ten times the amount of its Dutch predecessor. While I haven't seen it, I find it hard to believe that this kind of film could exist in the Hollywood machine. It is not a necessarily fun ride. It does not have a Disney ending. But what it does have is tenacity, integrity, and an unflinching desire to stare into the eyes of the things we fear most. Isolation. Ignorance. Pain and suffering. Perhaps by reflecting on these qualities, we may be better apt to avoid them in our every day life.

"I never really considered him a member, always thought he was more of a loner."

1984. Bad hair, bad clothes, bad jokes, all immortalized by bad movies. My compadre jokingly referred to The Party Animal, this celebration of the human libido, as not an 80's B movie, but more like a "80's C movie". Or maybe it was even a "D". Breast, profanity, breast, sex jokes, a great porn store scene, more breast, drugs, and more breast all create this jumbled, dreamlike sensation of a film.

Capturing the appeal that most find in the early films of say, PCU and Porkys, I would venture to say that while Party Animal lacks the memorable characters and cohesive plot development, it shines with a surrealness and complete absurdness that makes our modern films like Borat so memorable.

The idea is like many 80's sexploitation films: somewhat nerdy guy wants nothing more than to get laid. His sidekick, Studly, does his best to lead him to the ways of the woman but to no avail. Its only after a chemistry experiment goes wrong that our hero Pondo Sinatra is transformed into the party monster, a being whom no woman can resist.

What seperates this film from some of its peers is its rough edges, dreamlike qualities, and almost a level of intentional obscurity. Its wierd, stupid, gross, funny, sexy and completely 80's. A Punk rock soundtrack compliments the film with bands like the Buzzcocks, The Fleshtones, R.E.M., and the Untouchables. This is great fun to have around the house for that person in your life who thinks they've seen it all.

Senses of Cinema

Theres an appreciation for bleakness inside me. An affection for the cynical which draws me to auteurs such as Woody Allen, Ingmar Bergman, Passolini, etc etc... But theres a hopefullness in the works of Krzysztof Kieslowski that has the ability to strip me of my armor and leave my jaw on the floor everytime. He's done it to me before in The Dekalog: Episode 1, hosting a closing 5 minutes that absolutely makes cartoons out of false drama found in hollywood plastics like Hagis' 'Crash' and Eastwoods 'Million Dollar Baby'. His work inspires me to create, to be connected, and to love. I have found these emotions once again in the latest film of his that I have viewed, The Double Life of Veronique.

Wikipedia claims that when Quentin Tarantino first saw Double Life at Cannes that he immediately became enamoured with the films star, Irene Jacob. Me too, Q, me too. How could you not! It continues to claim that he wrote the part of Bruce Willis' wife for Irene but she was shooting Red at the time. GOOD CHOICE IRENE. Sure, Pulp Fiction went on to win the Palm D'Or, but Red cemented Kieslowski's reputation as one of cinema's most important figures of all time.

Anyone can research the story line behind Double Life. Jacob plays two characters, Weronika in Poland and Veronique in France, and Kieslowski plays on the intresnic connection that these two characters feel for each other, though they have never met. Weronika makes statements to her father, "I feel like Im not alone...". Her father smiles, but she knows he cant possibly understand the complete labyrinth of emotions connected to that feeling. Veronique gets similar feelings as her life of intrigue unfolds. There is so much to be thankful for in this film that to say the plot is about two people becomes irrelevant. The real plot is about connectivity.

The movie is a gem, especially to Kieslowski fans, which we all are, even if you havent seen any of his films. We all want to feel like we're not alone. We all want love. Connection. Emotion. Truth. Our cynicism escapes when we foolishly begin to feel like these things dont exist, or are too temporary to hold on to. Kieslowski knows that they do exist, and that when there are so many things that seperate us, we have no choice but to rely on the few key elements that connect us.

Take 10 drinks of water and eat peanut butter....

Sometimes you can keep a film on your shelf for months on end before deciding to test the waters. This was my experience with Hukkle, a Hungarian film boasting no dialouge. For so long I put off watching it, perhaps the term 'no dialouge' pushed me away, or maybe I was afraid of just another experimental art film boring me to tears. Finally I gave it a chance and I am very thankful I did. From Hukkle's website, directory György Pálfi gives us this synapsis:

I think that the most important organizing

elements of the film are the rhythm,

different noises and voices that stand

in place of the words and sentences stated

in concrete situations, and mixed

by those generate some strange mixture,

a kind of "symphony of noises".

From the small noises appear micro-stories that,

compared with the spoken words

point exactly the sole real story,

the human tragedy hidden behind peace.

Plays as sort of some fictionalized documentary coupled with sound experimentation, Hukkle stands in a genre of its own. The idea is that the village elder's hiccup's set a tempo, and a story develops in secret by the sounds and images that follow. My favorite parts were ones where scene craftsmanship is apparent. A ladybug playfully crawling up a female shepherd stuck out to me, then fluttering off at just the right moment. You can't train a ladybug!!! Many times during the film, subtle things such as this showed apparent rhythm and tempo from the director and crew. I love films that have technical acheivements like this, Russian Ark is another that comes to mind.

The 'secret' way of storytelling that I spoke of earlier is actually what director Pálfi considers a 'style game', using 'magic images' : pictures you can view one way, then turn upside down and get a new picture altogether. To the left we see an old woman in a hat, turn it upside down and you get an old man, actually pretty similar looking to uncle Bandi in the film. This is the idea that Pálfi played with when determining how to tell his story and it works really well.

The DVD I had contained some extra features, namely a commentary that was very fun and some behind the scenes 'making of' segment, which really moved me. The cast were all indigenous people of the village of Ozora and many of them, predominately elder Uncle Bandi, were able to travel with the film crew to festivals and awards ceremonies throughout the world. That was the real joy to see, real people enjoying their adventurous lives. For the crew, I would have to imagine that was the real payoff.