#218 Spoorloos [The Vanishing] (1988)

****

Director: George Sluizer

Cast: Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu, Gene Bervoets, Johanna ter Steege, Gwen Eckhaus, Bernadette Le Saché, Tania Latarget

What is worse than death? For Rex Hofman, it is living a life shrouded in the torturous mystery of his girlfriend's disappearance. While vacationing together, Rex and Saskia stop at a gas station in France. When Saskia never returns to the car, Rex launches a full investigation of her disappearance. Years later when the case goes cold and the police have long-since shut the file, Rex remains plagued by the mystery and his sorrow.

Having taken over his life completely, the campaign to find Saskia expends all of his time, money, and energies. When he finally comes face to face with her abductor, Raymond, he is met with an unexpected proposition. Raymond–a normal man by any other definition: a professor, husband, father– offers Rex the opportunity to find out how Saskia died, but only by experiencing it himself. Otherwise, he will never know.

Thus, the film reaches the ultimate psychological climax. And while I refuse to spoil the ending, I will say it is one of the most disturbing things I've seen in a long, long time.

While this film by no means follows the standard "horror" genre formula, it supplies enough suspense and fright to indeed go beyond a mere 'crime film' into the classification of horror/suspense. A shocking and frightening foreign film, whose later remake I suggest could not possibly compare. Unique in that it follows the mind/life of the criminal in more detail than that of the victims, we get a fascinating view of Raymond practicing for his crime (without ever really seeing the actual full thing). And in what we can only assume are Saskia's last moments alive, we are plagued with the unfortunate experience of watching her vitality and innocence as she interacts with who will soon facilitate her unfair and inhumane demise.

Worth seeing, but come prepared. This one is not going to leave you with a good feeling in your stomach.

#208 Frankenstein (1931)

****

Director: James Whale

Cast: Boris Karloff, Colin Clive, John Boles, Edward Van Sloan, Mae Clarke, Dwight Frye

Sometimes regarded as one of the greatest horror thrillers ever made, James Whale's 1931 Frankenstein is indeed a masterpiece. I figured I would take a gander at this film since it is such a prominent part of another film I just watched from the 1001, The Spirit of the Beehive.

Based only loosely on the novel of the same title by Mary Shelley, it is the story we know all too well: a man who's drive for science takes him into a realm that has not and should not be explored–the creation of life. Aided by his hunchback assistant named Fritz, Dr. Frankenstein (Clive) steals from graves and science labs to build a monster to bring to life, much to the horror of his fiancé and professor. When the monster gets loose on the town, it begins a path of death and destruction, out of anger, fright, but most often confusion. We both pity and fear the monster that doesn't know any other way other than to kill.

When Frankenstein decides he must destroy his creation, the entire town rises up to help, and a fatal and tragic ending follows.

While I was expecting a somewhat unapproachable, choppy, and cheesy horror film, instead I was delighted to find a very comprehensible film. Where so many older films lose their punch (old comedies lose their humor, old romances lose their relatability), Frankenstein manages to still shock and scare. Countless moments had me squirming in my seat with suspense, feeling repulsed, or jumping back in surprise. Only a true masterpiece can maintain such an impact with an audience nearly 80 years after its creation. A must see for any film appreciator, especially those of the horror genre.

#196 The Fly (1986)

****

Director: David Cronenberg

Cast: Jeff Goldblum, Geena Davis, John Getz, Joy Boushel, Leslie Carlson, George Chuvalo

Cronenberg explores the consequences of science, medicine, and technology going too far in this gruesome thriller, horror romance. Jeff Goldblum plays a lonely (though absolutely ripped?) scientist who has just secretly solved the mystery of teleportation! Geena Davis arrives as a reporter, learning about the project for a book. Together, as they explore the possibility of teleporting live organisms, the two fall in love in a fast, steamy love affair.

In a fit of drunken jealousy, Goldblum decides to teleport himself in his woman's absence, and what he initially thinks is a purification of his genes is actually much more horrific: his genes have been fused with that of a house fly that was also in the teleporter.

As he slowly transforms and degenerates, the two lovers are both forced to deal what comes. Goldblum begins to lose control over his body and his mind, and Davis finds some shocking news at the doctor's that sends the plot into entire other arena of intense.

What could've simply been a scary gore-fest turned out to be a highly emotional, political film. Being a true horror-movie-hater myself, I was gearing myself up for a 90 minute struggle. Instead, I found it to be pretty fascinating, and I didn't ever even have to look away! The ending was so sad and overwhelming that I felt tears welling, though one never fell. Awesome movie, but disappointed to see it had such an obvious lead for a sequel. Heard it wasn't as good, but I don't plan on trying to find out!

#168 Rosemary's Baby (1968)

***

Director: Roman Polanski

Cast: Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes, Ruth Gordon, Sidney Blackmer, Maurice Evans, Ralph Bellamy, Victoria Vetri

With her sunken-in cheeks, translucent skin, and mod dresses, Mia Farrow glimmers in Rosemary's Baby as perhaps one of the most innocent and tortured victims of evil in horror movie history. Excited to begin her life in her new NYC apartment with her handsome actor husband, Rosemary Woodhouse (Farrow) occupies her days redecorating and entertaining the older and somewhat eccentric neighbors. When she and her husband decide to try for a baby, the neighbors seem to become more involved in her life than ever, taking their 'helpfulness' to a whole new level of creepy.

As her pregnancy escalates, Rosemary gets sicker and sicker, and she begins to question those that are supposed to be watching out for her. The ever-looming presence of evil both for the viewer and the star of the film never wavers, and it becomes a suspense to the end-- what really is wrong with Rosemary's baby?

I enjoyed the film-- it was an easy watch. Though horrific and skin-crawling at times, it was presented more in the form of a mystery rather than an all-out exocist, slasher, suspense horror. One of the attributes of this film most consistently noted in my film book is Polanski's knack for pacing when telling this story. I have to agree and say that I found it appropriate--the slow on-slaught of things-not-quite-right lead to the ending being both not surprising and yet completely shocking.

My gut reaction to the ending was. "Really?" I felt let down with the anti-climax and ambiguity. But now since a day has passed since my initial viewing of the film, I feel much better about it. I guess it's in our nature to want the inertia of the film to carry us to a conclusive ending. The look in Rosemary's eyes as she thought long and hard about mothering her child is certainly something to leave a lasting impression-- and that is what makes a great film.