The Spanish Prisoner

When I read Stephen King’s The Shining, I was struck by the fact that I knew everything that was going to happen before it happened. I wondered whether it was possible to do anything new in the horror genre. (In his film adaptation of The Shining, Stanley Kubrick mostly made it into a psychological thriller.) Horror films in recent year s only seem to recycle ideas. The last movie that I found genuinely frightening was the 1998 Japanese horror film, Ring.

The Woman in Black is directed by James Watkins, from a screenplay by Jane Goldman, loosely based on the novel by Susan Hill. It covers familiar ground, but it tries to make up for it by being visually appealing.

The story is set in England during the Edwardian period. Arthur Kipps (Daniel Radcliffe) , a solicitor from London, is sent to a small town on the English coast to settle the estate of a deceased widow. The townspeople are secretive and unfriendly. They not so subtly hint that Arthur should leave. They seem to know something he doesn’t. Unfazed, Arthur goes out to the widow’s house to look for legal papers. The place is called Eel Marsh Manor. (With a name like that, you know there’s going to be trouble). It is located on an island in the middle of a saltwater marsh. It can only be reached when the tide is low. The house is abandoned and surrounded by overgrown shrubbery. When Arthur searches the place, right away he hears strange noises. Through a window, he sees a woman dressed all in black. A lesser man would flee in such circumstances, but Arthur is staunch and fearless, albeit a little slow on the uptake. He is determined to get to the bottom of things.

Watkins has tried to make up for the script’s weaknesses by directing the film in stylish manner. The shots of the island and of the vast saltwater marsh are beautiful. Eel Marsh Manor has everything you could want in a haunted house. The sets were designed with loving attention to detail. Yet the film’s sumptuousness can’t hide the fact that we’ve been here before. Mysterious faces appear and disappear in windows. Doors seem to open and close by themselves. Wind-up toys suddenly start up. People suddenly speak in strange voices.

The Woman in Black will likely appeal to people who are nostalgic for old haunted house movies, but it doesn’t break any new ground.

The Artist, written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius, is an homage to the silent film era. There is no recorded dialogue in most of the film. It is described as black-and-white, although it is clear that it was shot in color and then photoshopped into grayscale. (Compare this to any black-and-white film from the 1930’s, and you can see the difference.) Presumably this is because black-and-white film has become prohibitively expensive. It was shot in the 1.33:1 screen ratio that was commonly used up until the advent of television. The period detail is fairly accurate, although in one close-up shot one can see that Dujardin is wearing a synthetic moustache. And in one scene, when two of the characters meet on an upper story staircase in a movie studio (most studio buildings are only one or two stories), there are so many extras rushing back and forth in the background, the place looks almost like an ant colony.

The story is largely lifted from A Star is Born, with a bit of Sunset Boulevard and the Rin Tin Tin movies thrown in. Geroge Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is a silent film star who appears in adventure movies with his dog, Jack. By chance, he meets an extra, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), and he is immediately taken with her. He persuades a reluctant producer (John Goodman) to give her a bit part in a movie. Within a few years, Peppy (don’t you hate that name?) becomes a big star. When sound films are introduced, Valentin dismisses them. He uses his own money to finance a silent film. However, it comes out the day after the stock market crashes. What’s more, a sound film starring Peppy premieres the same day, and everybody goes to see that. George loses his shirt, and he drifts into poverty and alcoholism. He sells off most of his belongings at an auction, where they are secretly bought by Peppy, who hasn’t forgotten him. However, George’s loyal manservant, Clifton (James Cromwell) stays with him, even though George can no longer pay him. Clifton reluctantly leaves only after George orders him to. (We’re supposed to believe this?) Depressed, George burns his old films, and his house catches fire. Jack runs to alert a policeman, and George is saved. While George is lying unconscious in a hospital, Peppy arranges to have him moved to her home, where, coincidentally, Clifton now works. When he wakes, George wanders through Peppy’s house, where he finds a room full of his old belongings. Shocked, he returns to his house, where he prepares to shoot himself, while Jack pleads with him not to. Peppy shows up and apologizes. The film ends with Peppy and George dancing in a musical number.

The Artist has some amusing moments. For example, when George learns of the new sound film technology, he has a nightmare is which he hears sounds. For the most part, however, I felt as though I had been here many times before. (Think of those movie spoofs on the old Carol Burnett Show.) Hazanavicius says this movie is meant as a tribute. Yet, by filling it with clichés, he shows a condescending attitude towards the silent films he supposedly adores.

Drive is a film directed by Nicolas Winding Refn, from a screenplay by Hossein Amini, from a novel by James Sallis. The Driver (Ryan Gosling) works as a mechanic, as a stunt driver, and as a getaway driver for robberies. He gets into a relationship with his neighbor, Irene (Carey Mulligan), who has a son, Benicio (Kaden Leos). Irene’s husband, Standard Gabriel (Oscar Isaac), returns from prison. He owes protection money to a gangster. The Driver agrees to help him rob a pawn shop. It quickly becomes apparent that the two of them have bee set up.

Drive is a fairly simple gangster story, full of double crosses and car chases. Unfortunately, Refn tries to give the film artistic touches. There are shots of the Driver and Irene gazing into each other’s eyes or into the distance, while pop music blares on the soundtrack. There are also overhead shots of Los Angeles, to remind us, I suppose, that the film takes place in Los Angeles. I would have liked Drive better without such moments. A film like this only needs dialogue and action. It needs to be a “good, swift, violent story” as Dashiell Hammett would have said.