The Snake Girl and The Silver-Haired Witch [dir. Noriyaki Yuasa]

Hoo boy, if I had seen this movie as a kid, I would have peed my pants and been afraid to ever sleep again. Snake Girl... is loosely based on a Manga by Kuzuo Umezu (it was called Scared of Mama), in which a schoolgirl discovers that her mother has been replaced by a snake woman.

The film adaptation's script changes the plotline a little, possibly because having the mother figure be an evil character would have been a much harder sell. So while the mother is still an oddball (attributed to a recent serious accident which affected her memory), she is not the snake girl of the title. Also, the film's protagonist little girl is adopted from an orphanage. Played by child actress Yachie Matsui, the girl Sayuri is cute and plucky, and thankfully just short of cloyingly goody-goody. She is delighted to find herself with a set of new parents and have her own room with scads of new clothes. Never mind that mama seems somewhat distracted...and Daddy's going to Africa on business for some weeks...there's someone else in the house that mama wants to keep a secret from Daddy...there's something very fishy about this person, no wait, make that scaly...and there's a scary witch too...and snakes...and spiders, hundreds of big hairy spiders.

In the feature commentary track included on the Arrow blu-ray for this film, horror film expert David Kalat laughs at what he considers Sayuri's impossible optimism, her cheerful good-nature even when she is being openly frightened and harried and her own mother seems helpless to intervene. But that can be attributed to this orphan's desperation to be part of a home and family. The family is decidedly strange, keeping the kind of secrets that would be impossible for any normal family to keep. But this also works to the film's advantage, perversely generating in the domestic space an oppressive alienating mood, where Sayuri finds herself unable to depend on what most children automatically rely on, their parents. The several scenes where she must face various freaky or terrifying sights are very well captured in the shadowy B&W cinematography (Akira Uehara). The creature models (when they aren't using real snakes) and other VFX are not super-convincing from a realism standpoint, but they are scary as seen from a child's POV. Kalat makes a very good point about it, that a large portion of the film can be something that we experience through Sayuri's perspective (there are also a lot of voice-overs where we hear her thoughts) and that she may not always be a reliable narrator.

Snake Girl...'s resolution does not tie up all its threads, and will induce in viewers some major "Hold on, that doesn't explain..." moments. But it is a lovely dark fairy tale with a personable child heroine (although as an audience very young children themselves may be too spooked by it), and some memorable scare scenes.

A few words about the blu-ray disc from Arrow Video:

The opening scenes on the film feature some significant amount of hair thin scratches, and I was wondering if this would be the experience throughout. Thankfully not, the bulk of the film is in pretty good condition. Good justice is done to the many night-time eerie elements. The Japanese mono soundtrack (DTS-HDMA) is clear enough and the spooky theme music (Shunsuke Kikuchi) comes across nicely. On-disc extras are limited but substantial. Apart from the aforementioned entertaining commentary from Mr. Kalat, there is a very nice half-hour introduction from an enthusiastic Mr. Zach Davisson to the influence of the Brothers Grimm, origins of Japanese manga, the work of Kazuo Umezu, the source manga and its differences from the film script, and comments on the film itself. A theatrical trailer and image gallery. I haven't yet gone through the booklet (limited to the first pressing), but it's a slim affair with just a single essay padded out with stills. As with their release of Sailor Suit & Machine Gun, my copy came with a slipcover that features the newly commissioned art, so I flipped the actual case cover to show the original poster art.

Avatar: The Way of Water [dir. James Cameron]

This opinion of Avatar: The Way of Water, which shall for purposes of retaining sanity be henceforth referred to as Avatar 2, assumes that you saw the first film back in 2009 when it wowed audiences with its visual splendor and for a fair spell, brought back 3D as a gimmick for drawing people into movie halls.

So about the movie, Avatar 2 is pretty much what I expected it would be. Story-wise, it is stodgy and contrived. After the events of Avatar, human soldier turned Na'vi rebel  leader Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) stays back in Pandora. His love interest and warrior companion Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) is now wife and mother of his several all-blue children. There is also one adopted child from Sigourney Weaver's avatar (when did she get the time to make whoopie in Pandora?) and, get this, a son from the wicked Col. Quaritch (Stephen Lang). The son is human, but brought up among the Na'vi.

Once again exploitative humankind launches an assault on Pandora. This time Quarritch, who was killed in the previous film's climax, and his goons have been resurrected as Na'vi avatars. So the majority of the cast in Avatar 2 consists of motion captured performances later rendered as computer generated imagery (CGI). Apart from Quaritch's human son and a few others, there are few actual actors on the screen. To Cameron's credit, the level of immersion is high enough that this is not a distraction.

While in Avatar, we only saw Pandora as a forest covered planet, the sequel explores another environment. To escape Earth's attack on his people, Sully and his family leave the forest region and go into hiding along the seashore. This region is home to an aquatic species of Na'vi led by Tonowari and Ronal (Cliff Curtis and Kate Winslet), distinguished by their aquamarine coloration and other anatomical differences.

While Jake's family adjusts to the new circumstances, giving the film opportunity to dole out lessons on racial tolerance and immigration, blue Quaritch and his squad are bent on hunting them down, even if it means casting their net of terror across the whole of Pandora, threatening the Na'vi and all other animal life upon the sentient planet.

So a fair deal of cliched sermons, and dialog choked with its own importance; Avatar 2 is not a film of subtleties. At upwards of 3 hours, it also cannot be described as brisk and breezy. But, you know what? It is such a seamless visual marvel I spent very little time hand-wringing over its cliches. Remember how we gasped at the beauty of the forests and cliffs in the first film? The submerged world in the sequel is equally amazing. Of course, it is derivative in the sense of being essentially an aquatic re-design of the fauna from Avatar. But even with the more than 10 years since the first film, Cameron once again shows why he is king of the large scale technological spectacle.

While staying true to the original design, the rendered visuals show impeccable fluidity and texture. Water is an infamously treacherous medium to convincingly render, and the process here required performance capture of the actors in submerged conditions. But the presentation betrays none of the edges or difficulties. Every object behaves as it should, with the appropriate weight and detail. Cameron's capture of the film's several action scenes is also masterful - there is total clarity in the action, no confused edits or shortcuts. In comparison the visuals from many of the Marvel superhero movies appear inconsequential. The visuals here ARE the story, and a gorgeous experience they make.

Others may have very different opinions, but I was engrossed enough in the world of Avatar 2 to not hugely mind its shortcomings in script and characters, and I wouldn't mind watching it again, this time on a bigger screen.

The Devil's Hour [Tom Moran]

Over the course of a week, I finished watching this 6-episode mini-series called The Devil's Hour (TDH, currently showing on Amazon Prime). It can be loosely described as Silence of the Lambs meets The Sixth Sense meets Groundhog Day. Check the Vlog to see my take on it. If you prefer reading to watching, the full transcript is given below the video:

Our protagonist Lucy (Jessica Raine) is a social worker and single mother who balances her job of counseling assorted abuse victims with a troubled home-life; her son Isaac (Benjamin Chivers) is a cipher, almost always silent, and curiously devoid of any emotion. While Lucy's husband Mark would like dearly to get her back in his life, he is far less enthusiastic about the son; with cruel sarcasm he refers to the latter as a "psychopath in the making".

Lucy also has a senile mother who watches television with the power off and talks to people that aren't there. And oh, it appears that Lucy wakes up every night exactly at 3.33am. This is evidenced by a bedside clock that glows a ridiculously bright purple; to me the bigger mystery here is how she manages to fall asleep with that light in her face.

On another story-thread detective-inspector Ravi Dhillon (Nikesh Patel) - whose schtick is retching at crime scenes and listening to the Beach Boys while studying them (hold on!). Along with his intensely Scottish cop buddy Nick Holness (Alex Ferns), Ravi is on the trail of a random series of murders and abductions, which hint at a diabolical serial killer. Together they discover that the murderer is in some way connected to Lucy and Isaac.

These two tracks are frequently interrupted by a series of scenes set at an unspecified time in an interrogation cell, where a bruised Ravi and Lucy are talking to a rather sinister, murderous looking character called Gideon (Peter Capaldi of Doctor Who fame).

The overall tone of TDH is what I call "Netflix Dark" - the characters have intense obsessive personalities and dark secrets, the crime scenes are gruesome and if a character smiles, you can be sure that smile will be wiped out before long. That said, it is not all misanthropic and it does have a sense of humor, which goes some way to making the atmosphere less miserable. It also helps that the actors fit their parts really well. Jessica Raine is empathetic as the single mother protagonist, but special mention must be made of child actor Benjamin Chivers, with his beautifully modulated depiction of the almost android-like Isaac. Capaldi and Nikesh Patel also embody their parts well.

For most of the season, TDH's narrative jumps around in time in a manner that is distracting, without making itself clear. Individual episodes have some strong moments but there are also seemingly random dream logic segments. It is in the final episode that the underlying concept is revealed, for which the clues had been strewn before. Without going too far into spoiler territory, this is where the Groundhog Day element dominates in a very far-reaching way. It calls for a significant suspension of disbelief, and renders certain characters and sub-plots less important than they initially seemed. How much that conceit appeals to you is a matter of individual taste. I thought it was decent, and they did go for a bold downer ending, which is not a return to status quo.

On the whole, TDH can be described as somewhat cliched and contrived. But it is also nicely polished and frequently effective. Fans of mystery/horror dramas might want to check it out, and it's only 6 hour long episodes.

Official trailer link:

Un-kvlt Vlog 5 - Ramsay Horror Special - Bandh Darwaza

Bandh Darwaza (1990) may not be the last film in Mondo Macabro's upcoming Bollywood Horror boxset, but it does represent the end of the classic cycle of Ramsay monster movies that began with 1984's Purana Mandir (PM), and I hope to do it sufficient justice in this Un-kvlt vlog. For those that prefer to read, the transcript is  given below:

In some ways, this end mirrors the beginning. In both films, the featured monster is portrayed by the Ramsays' most famous horror star Aniruddh Agarwal. While in PM, Agarwal was the devil-worshiper Saamri who is resurrected as a vengeful ghoul, Bandh Darwaza (BD) has him playing Nevla, a vampire who is also master of a satanic cult, and returns from the grave for his revenge.

Nevla's vampiric nature is emphasized in the introduction where he emerges after sundown from his lair to stalk the countryside for prey. His all-black costume with flowing cape, red lenses and fangs owe a great deal to Christopher Lee's ensemble in Hammer's Dracula movies. Nevla's den is the familiar dungeon set from previous Ramsay films, this time housing a striking bat statue.

Interestingly, the name Nevla translates as 'mongoose', a creature famous for its animosity towards cobras. Even those that haven't come across the animal may know it from the Rudyard Kipling story Rikki-Tikki-Tavi (in The Jungle Book collection). The mongoose is not usually given negative or evil connotations, so it is unusual for a horror feature's main villain to be named after it.

As I said, Nevla is also a cult leader; he has a bunch of acolytes ready to perform any evil deed in his service (including a rather butch woman in an incongruous tigerskin coat). When the local big shot's childless wife (veteran character actor Beena Banerjee) visits him in her desperation to be a mother, Nevla obliges her - and the film makes no pretense about how he does this - but with the condition that any girl child must be handed back as his property (possibly to replenish the quota of female ritual dancers in his shrine).

Expectedly, the wife gives birth to a girl and tries to welsh on the deal. That turns out a fatally bad idea; a furious Nevla has her killed and the baby kidnapped. In turn her husband drives a dagger through Nevla's heart, putting him in cold storage for a while.

In the next segment of the movie, the girl child rescued from Nevla's clutches grows up to be the sexy but spoilt Kaamya. Kaamya has the hots for her childhood friend Kumar (Hashmat Khan). When she finds him unreceptive to her charms, she determines to bag him even if she must sell her soul to the devil in the bargain. You can see where this is leading to.

Kaamya is played by actress Kunika, who had previously worked in a couple of horror projects with the Ramsays' rival Mohan Bhakri (Kabrastan and Amavas ki Raat). Although she was frequently seen in cameos and supporting roles, BD is one of the few features where Kunika has a leading part and she makes the most of it. She doesn't match up to the stupendous sex appeal of Veerana's star Jasmine, but she does convey Kaamya's animal hunger for Kumar, and her willingness to cross all lines to possess him. In this sense, BD is probably a little closer to the Ramsays' earliest horror films, where characters invited doom upon themselves by their actions, instead of simply falling prey to an external evil.

Through a convoluted set of circumstances, Kaamya's desire takes her down the forbidden path and, like her mother before, she too comes under the sway of Nevla's cult. There's a standout scene in which a resurrected Nevla, covered in a slimy primordial goo rises from his coffin and slowly approaches her. Given the story behind Kaamya's birth, Nevla is her biological father. At the same time she is involved in his 'rebirth' and in satisfying his immediate hunger. I doubt the Ramsays factored in all these ramifications while doing the scene, but it creates a strange incestuous vibe. For Dracula fans, another exquisite bit is when the Lucy Westenra equivalent character is summoned by the vampire at her bedroom window and submits to him while her husband slumbers nearby.

Unfortunately, BD is not without its flaws. When Nevla is not on screen the film's energy noticeably dips. While not slumping as much as their previous release Purani Haveli, BD's screenplay has an inefficient, ad-hoc quality, with several slip-ups in continuity and tone. The lead romantic pair, whose survival we are meant to root for, are too bland to care about. For some reason, the trademark rousing Ramsay musical theme is only used once and in a minor key, although they do recycle other tunes from their previous pictures.

But all this notwithstanding, BD is one of the top offerings from the Ramsays in this period. Every scene with Aniruddha Agarwal's Nevla is worth savoring for his towering, terrifying presence. Even simply looking in through a stained glass transom window, captured lovingly by Gangu Ramsay's camera, he can send shivers down your spine. This was the last major feature film that Agarwal did with the Ramsays, and I am happy to report that he bows out with a killer turn.

Next up, I hope to tackle the last title from this much-awaited boxset, Deepak Ramsay's Aatma, which in many ways represent a shift from the other films included here. Till then, farewell and take care.

Other Vlogs in this series:

Aatma Vlog

Purani Haveli Vlog 

Tahkhana Vlog 

Purana Mandir Vlog

Veerana Vlog 

Thampu [dir. G Aravindan]

The only films I'd previously seen of Malayalam auteur Govindan Aravindan are Chidambaram (repeatedly shown on  the national channel Doordarshan in the 80's) and Oridathu. From these, it seemed to me that Aravindan as film-maker was most interested in the cinéma vérité element - of documenting, and in the process looking at the inner stories of the ignored sections of society. Even his mythology inspired feature Kanchana Seetha was known for a very grounded treatment. Aravindan was, along with Mrinal Sen and Shyam Benegal one of the prime figures of the Indian New Wave film movement. His films are definitely of the sort which some people admiringly, and others dismissively, regard as "award-winning".

Thampu (1978), an early feature in his career, is heavily concerned with the documentary element. The film primarily observes the goings-on in a traveling circus that sets up in a small town. We become privy to the behind-the-scenes of their routines and get hints of their personal lives: the painstaking rehearsals, the last-minute preparations, the wordless friendships, the drunken soirees. There is a beautiful synchrony when an old clown putting on his make-up is juxtaposed with the primping up of the trained monkey. Another kind of resonance is achieved when the lure of the circus must compete against the attractions of the town's temple festival with its fireworks and drumbeats (ironically, the circus manager - played by Malayalam arthouse favorite Bharat Gopi - was previously steered into giving a donation for the festival).

There appears a larger "life is a circus" motif when the film looks at the life of the local industrialist and his family. Our man divides his life between furthering his business and guzzling drinks with friends while longingly reminiscing about his time in Malaysia and complaining about "this accursed country". His traditional wife sits ignored in the inner room, while his estranged son (a rather hip-looking Nedumudi Venu) spends time imbibing Indian classical from a local musician. I was not too taken with this facet of the film. It moves away from the circus milieu without being very interesting in itself.

Nedumudi Venu

Thampu has all the hallmarks of the Indian parallel cinema style. It severely eschews the exaggerations and embellishments of mainstream films. The bulk of the casting is composed of non-professionals (including actual members of the Great Chitra Circus, which is featured here). Shaji Karun's B&W photography is very naturalistic, not afraid to embrace darkness - In film restoration activist Shivendra Singh Dungarpur's discussions with him, Shaji Karun revealed that Aravindan forbade him to use additional lights for the night scenes. The sound design is digetic, including all the music and songs heard in the film. Editors Rameshan and Selvanathan give a lot of time to capturing the rhythm and atmosphere of his settings, and this is where the film shines. Given the episodic non-dramatic nature, there is no elaborate climax or lead-out; when the circus packs it in (including a lovely night-time shot of the tent being taken down) and leaves for another place, the film wraps up as well.

Interest in Thampu was revived after its restoration and screening at the 2022 Cannes film festival in the Classics section. Yesterday, I bunked office, and went for the screening of the restored Thampu at Regal cinema as part of the Film Heritage workshop on restoration. Although I had been suggested to come a half-hour before the scheduled time as there would be a queue and first-come-first-served, I was skeptical about a non-Hindi non-Satyajit Ray vintage Indian film filling the large-size auditorium and I was right in there being no difficulty over finding a good seat (Apparently, In the Mood for Love screened the previous night had been a packed affair).

Lucky for me, Shivendra Singh was also present for the screening. I got my Celluloid Man DVD signed by him and chatted a little about that film and Czechmate, his mega-documentary on Czech New Wave cinema maestro Jiří Menzel.

Regal Cinema in Colaba, Mumbai

With regards to the restoration, one thing to keep in mind is that Thampu was a low-budget arthouse film shot with natural light, and the restoration was sourced from a dupe negative. So the visuals are not ultra-crisp. There is softness and the blacks can appear somewhat diffuse (I can't say if the hall projection limitations had anything to contribute to this). But the most striking benefit is in how absolutely stable the image is. There is no flickering, warping or prominent scratches. The gray-scale is not exceptional, but it is quite solid all the same; I imagine some of the night scenes are looking the best they did since the original release. Similarly, the sound is not absolutely pristine (there is a floor hum and some clipping), but it still sounds very lively when called for, especially in the scenes of the temple festival. Aravindan paid a lot of attention to developing a credible audio atmosphere to complement the scenes and the restoration does the best possible justice to his vision.

Thampu would not come in a favorite movies list for me, but it is an important contribution to the Indian arthouse and this restoration makes it doubly worthwhile for cinephiles to try and catch this when they can. For those interested, the restored version is currently available on Youtube here: