Sucker Punch

Amazingly beautiful cinematography and visuals. Kick-ass music that interweaves perfectly with the story. Very lovable, sympathetic protagonists and an overbearing, despicable antagonist. A strong and uplifting central theme. Stir all these in a pot, cook at 450 degrees for 110 minutes, and you get the wicked ride that is Sucker Punch.

The film opens with a silent, slow-motion sequence of Emily Browning's character and her sister losing their mother and then being assaulted by their stepfather, set to a slowed-down version of "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" (think Marilyn Manson's version, but less creepy). Browning and her sister's innocence and vulnerability, and her father's menacing stare, makes the scene incredibly affective. Not to mention the terrific camerawork--closeups of a button torn from Browning's shirt as it spins on the ground, a light bulb as it explodes from a gunshot, and a winding shot through a keyhole and into the reflection in Browning's eye of her stepfather approaching her sister with bad intent. A harrowing and devastating start to the film, to say the least.

From there we're taken to the Lennox House for the Mentally Insane, where the evil stepfather plans to commit Browning. As Browning is about to be lobotomized, the scene suddenly turns from a grungy hospital room to the glitz and glamour of a stage where a similar scene is being rehearsed. We have now entered the first layer, if you will, of escape. Similar to Inception, Sucker Punch jumps back and forth between layers, but instead of jumping between layers of dreaming, here we're jumping between Browning's consciously-created reveries used to escape from her awful incarceration. But unlike Inception, each layer of reverie serves as a microcosmic metaphor for the layer just above it.

The first layer of escape consists of an exotic dance hall where the girls, that is Baby Doll (Browning), Sweet Pea, Rocker, Blondie and Amber, are forced to dance for their scumbag boss's sleazy clients. The girls ban together to form an escape plan, for which they must first collect four items: a map, a source of fire, a knife and a key. To collect each item, Baby Doll does a dance in order to distract a certain person so that another girl may stealthily pick their pocket. For each of these dances, for the first three items at least, Baby Doll takes us to the second layer of reverie, and each of these sequences is a fantastic over-the-top battle scene in which the girls, lead by Scott Glenn of all people, must collect the appropriate item from layer one.

Each battle scene contains amazingly choreographed fight scenes, gorgeous landscapes, and little snip-its that advance the overall theme unique to each battle (one scene is even set to a cover of The Stooges' "Search and Destroy!") In just about any other context these battle scenes would have seemed self-indulgent and gratuitous. But, in the context of a fantasy world within a fantasy world, where almost no sense of reality is maintained, these scenes work completely. In fact, just how over-the-top these scenes are actually furthers the idea of escapism from the horrors of reality.

Throughout the film the editing is top-notch. But especially in these battle sequences is the editing perfectly timed. In the third of these scenes, in which the girls are looking to steal the cook's knife, a snag occurs and Baby Doll is forced out of her reverie of removing a bomb from a train, and back into the cook's kitchen. Without good editing, the viewer could easily get confused as to what's going on in each location, and even which layer of reverie the movie is in at a given moment. Thankfully, the superb editing in the film allows the viewer to always understand which reverie they're watching and what is happening in that location.

Next up we learn that the boss, Blue, has learned about the escape plan after one of the girls snitched to him out of fear. While lecturing the entire dance squad about his power over them, he unflinchingly executes two of the main girls in a surprising fit of egotistical rage. Up until this point, all the violence had been very stylized and action-driven. These two murders occur at point-blank range with a simple handgun; no thrills or dramatic camerawork to distract from the gun blasts and screams of the dance crew.

Later on, as Baby Doll and Sweet Pea are set to escape, Baby Doll is forced to sacrifice herself by distracting the guards, so that Sweet Pea can flee. Once Baby Doll is killed in the reverie, we jump back to reality, and the previously cut-off lobotomy is completed. We're devastated to see Baby Doll have to die, but we're comforted by the idea that Sweet Pea safely escaped and can tell the world about the horrors that went on in that wretched place.

This conclusion, and the film altogether, forces us to ask the question, as the film does itself in several places, who the story is really about, and who are all stories really and truly about? I think the film would say that every story is ultimately about you. Even if you're not a post-feminist teenage girl stuck in an insane asylum, you can relate to the struggle in the film to escape a poor reality and create a better one for yourself. The film reminds us that we all have the weapons at our disposal to make our lives ones worth living, to escape any horrid existence we find ourselves in and shape it into whatever we want. We just have to fight for it.

Insidious

Even if you haven't seen Insidious yet, chances are you've at least seen the first half of the movie, which regurgitates over a dozen of the most famous and obvious cliches of haunted house and possession movies. From the child with the unexplainable disease, to the child that no one believes. From the hysterical and illogical mother to the logical and overly-skeptical father. The rocking horse rocking by itself, the seance, the kid's creepy drawings, the geeks with the EMF meters, the baby monitors, the creepy old lady (Zelda Rubinstein anyone?), and many more.

The first half of the movie is so overloaded with cliches that the viewer cannot really associate with the characters in a meaningful way; they seem too fake, too archetypal. Any potential ideas or message behind the film gets lost in the storm of cliches.

The film starts to come around somewhat when Lin Shaye begins to describe "The Further" (which is an admittedly corny name to call it). The ideas of out-of-body experiences aren't completely unused in film, but are used rarely enough and in a unique enough way in the film that a hint of originality begins to emerge. And once we enter The Further, the vast darkness lit only by Patrick Wilson's lantern is executed splendidly, creating actual tension and suspense for the first time in the film.

Unfortunately the work done inside The Further is spoiled by the demon inside it, which bares a far-too-striking resemblance to Darth Maul from The Phantom Menace. Although not a cliche, it's still distracting when a character's costume looks too much like another popular character's (like how Nicolas Cage's costume in Kick-Ass looks a bit too close to several designs of Batman), and takes away from how otherwise creepy the demon would have been.

At several points during the film the concept of fear, and how we allow ourselves to deal with the emotion, is put forth. It's said that Dalton wanders too far into The Further because he has no real fear of what lurks there to keep him grounded in reality. This idea is touched upon other places in the film also, but it doesn't really become a clear and solid theme behind the film. What it ends up being is some vague advertisement for watching horror movies and allowing yourself to feel fear.

The ending is interesting as well. It's an ending that, again, we've all seen before, where the supposedly defeated spirit manages to still possess the hero's human body, but it's done well enough to still be exciting. However, the film cuts off too soon by ending on a scream without showing the result of the scream. This ending feels cheap; it doesn't allow the film to come full circle and complete its narrative, and instead ends on yet another poorly-timed jump scare.

Ultimately the movie feels phoned-in to me. Given what James Wan and Leigh Whannell were able to accomplish with Saw, and the performances Patrick Wilson mustered in Hard Candy and Watchmen, this film falls far short in comparison to the talent these three men possess. These three could've done much better than a Poltergeist without the fun and exciting jumps, than a The Ring without the suspense, intrigue and beautiful art-direction, than a Paranormal Activity without a paralyzing ending.

The Strangers

The more movies one sees, the easier it becomes to spot the clichés and formulas used in those movies. Unfortunately for most movies today, the clichés are painfully obvious and only a blind man would miss them. But, like finding Waldo within a landscape of insanity, it's always refreshing when a film comes along and turns a cliché on its head.

The Strangers is such a film. The basic storyline of The Strangers is a couple (Liv Tyler, Scott Speedman) is harassed, stalked and eventually tortured by a group of masked killers. I know, nothing about that storyline sounds original in the least. But the presentation of the film and the ways in which these events unfold, particularly concerning the pacing of the film and the motives of the killers, make the film truly unique and terrifying.

If we exclude the opening of the film--a flash forward past the end of the film--we start with the couple on the way home from a wedding reception. She is crying, he is visually depressed. After they finish their quite drive back to the house, they have a quiet discussion about the events of the night and where their relationship is. It feels very much like a mumble-core romantic melodrama. It turns out she had turned down his marriage proposal; they've already been through a rough night, and it's only gonna get worse.

Once we get a knock on the door from a stranger and the terror and suspense begin, the film still keeps with its mumble-core sensibility. The killers are never running, never angered, always calm. But their never emotionless malevolences, like a Michael Myers; they always remain within a humanistic plane. Also the sound, editing and camera angles of the film remain subdued and slow, not at all like your standard slasher (with the exception of a couple brilliantly timed jump scares).

When Speedman leaves the house to run to the store, one of the scariest scenes of the movie takes place. Tyler is standing in the living room smoking a cigarette, and in the hallway in the background walks one of the killers in a mask. The hallway is completely dark except for his mask, which seems to hauntingly float there in the dark. Tyler does not notice, as she finishes her cigarette and pours herself a glass of water. As she walks toward the sink the camera follows her, leaving the man in the mask just in the corner of the frame. The man in the mask does nothing, and is gone once the camera turns away and turns back. How chilling a thought, that lunatics in masks could be lurking in the shadows of your home, completely unbeknownst to you. Nothing really happens in this scene, yet it's unbelievably creepy.

The sound throughout the film is simply superb. The juxtaposition between the quiet mumble-core dialogue and loud knockings and scratchings on the doors and windows really makes for excellent jump scares that truly puts the viewer on edge. Add in the simple but unsettling images of the killers' masks, a sewn-together twine bag reminiscent of the Scarecrow in Batman Begins and two dolled-up female clown masks, and you have the basic ingredients of an effective, suspenseful slasher.

The one line of dialogue from the film that really makes this film stand out as special among all its peers, comes at the end of the film. Speedman and Tyler are tied to chairs, awaiting the torture from the three masked assailants. Tyler, crying and hysterical, asks "Why are you doing this to us?" The blond girl in the clown mask answers, "Because you were home." These three teenagers in cheap masks are not out for revenge, to make a statement or some other realistic motive. They kill strictly out of apathy and boredom, choosing as victims whoever happens to answer the door on whatever random night. After her retort, the blond girl and her friends take turns plunging a kitchen knife into their victims' stomachs very lackadaisically, without any passion or enthusiasm, just for something to do.

Throughout the film at certain points there are montages of second-team style random shots of suburbia: houses, picket fences, basketball hoops. These shots suggest a statement about the young American suburbanite, suffering from ennui and apathy, who has probably played a few too many violent video games, as the adage goes, who, in search of a thrill bigger than raiding their inattentive parents' liquor cabinets, go around killing strangers.

So if you think slasher pics have run themselves into the ground, producing the same old crap over and over again, give this film a try, and see if your opinion doesn't change.