Queen of Blood

Queen of Blood

Directed by: Chris Alexander

USA, 2014

Horror, 89min

Distributed by: Autonomy Pictures

Sequel time… or is it? Chris Alexander dived head first onto the genre filmmaking scene with his impressive debut feature Blood for Irina a few years back, and I had the great privilege of checking it out whilst it still was in post. What I saw blew me away, and being a huge fan of Herzog, Rollin and Franco, Blood for Irina was a love letter penned with passion from a guy who certainly knew how to summon up the aura of late seventies Eurohorror.

So when an email dropped into my in box posing the question, ”Would you be interested in seeing an early cut of Queen of Blood?” I never hesitated a second. Partially because I truly did enjoy Blood for Irina, and partially because I wanted to see how Alexander tackled the tricky second feature curse!

Vampire queen Irina [Shauna Henry] walks the earth again, although this time it’s set in a western time period. Irina crawls out of a dirty riverbed drooling blood and with hunger in her eyes. Moving from place to place, encountering people along the way. People whose fates she will affect. The tone and atmosphere is much the same as in Blood For Irina, as in being gentle, meditative and cautious. But at the same time, momentary rushes of death and destruction are in place. Irina lashes out in her hallucinatory like state, turning the dreamlike shimmer into a dark nightmare. Remember that Herzog film where everyone was supposedly hypnotized before they shot the movie… Well, this captures the feeling of Heart of Glass, [1979] but with a Vampires and bloodshed!

So does he pull it off? Has Alexander been stricken by the curse of second feature failure? Well if you are a recurrent reader, you know me. I believe in honesty in everything that I do. I only write about movies I like, movies that affected me, movies that have something unique and movies that have some thought put into them. Only on a few occasions have I slammed movies for bad story, missing the bigger picture or not really getting their message through, even though I stand firmly by the theory that sometimes a zombie movie is only a zombie movie.

I do have some small issues with certain moments in Queen of Blood, but they are the kind of things that really don’t affect the movie as a whole, they are merely details of taste, and will vary with each individual viewer. With that said, one of the things that makes modern society so great is that one can discuss films with the filmmakers in a few simple punches of keyboard buttons. I’ve had the pleasure of talking about Queen of Blood with Alexander, and presented the issues to him. I also stand firmly with the belief that if a filmmaker did something intentionally, then that’s fine. I can’t, and won’t really interfere with artistic vision, and when said filmmaker answers with a referent to Franco’s Female Vampire, it kind of made my point void. Chris Alexander knows exactly why every scene, beat and frame looks, feels and works the way it does, and that’s something you have to respect!

The style that Alexander chose for his first feature, was a meditative, fever dream and also gentle, despite the topic. That’s all here too, but this time the content is what makes a difference. You will find multiple characters, multiple story arcs and multiple scenes of violence. Boundaries are pushed, both within the film and with the audience; it’s obvious that Alexander isn’t here to make mainstream mediocrity that we have seen way to much, he’s here to create his own unique space; a realm where Irina is Queen and a force of nature to be wary of.

But let’s talk about characters. In Blood for Irina we saw a pretty basic small cast. We had good, we had evil, kinda, It’s not really fair to call Irina evil in the classic antagonist way, she’s a tormented antagonist that we have an emotional recognition with and we do end up rooting for her, hence turning her into protagonist. This is basically what is transferred right over to Queen of Blood. Irina is that same character, tormented, wounded, vulnerable without being hapless. In some ways, I feel this to be perhaps more of a prequel than a sequel, as I find that there are keys to why she’s the suffering persona of Blood for Irina hidden within this film. (Also a scene where a photograph may unlock a deeper level to Irina’s background) But this time around, Alexander adds an element to the mix; he brings in characters that we almost could call red herring characters. Then there’s the highly intriguing character of The Preacher, portrayed with a broodingly sinister vibe by Skinny Puppy front man Nivek Ogre. Irina and The Preacher characters work splendidly, drawing the audience in with their mystical stories, living parallel lives in the same space, both with drifter-like agendas that we all know will lead them towards each other.

In this way, expanded, multiple character arcs make it a more complex piece than Blood for Irina. It takes some time before we can finally decide where our dedication will be, with Irina, The Preacher or that third character I will keep secret. I really dig movies that take time to establish characters and flip the classic archetypes on their ass, moving protagonist to antagonist and vice versa.

One of the things that I really loved about Mike Mignola’s Hellboy when I first discovered that comic, was that the fights where instant. He didn’t waste time or ink on illustrious battles that stretched over pages and pages with big spreads of glorious combat. “Red” just got in there, got slapped by the foe, cursed and then easily hammered the beast into submission with a single blow from that big ass red hand. Done. All in one page, or two at tops. There is something of this in Queen of Blood to, Alexander doesn’t dwell on the attacks or fights. He builds an atmosphere, get's in there and get’s the job done. I like that, because despite the slow move forth and gentle pacing, he’s not wasting time he lashes out and sending a blast of violence crashing down and then settling into that gentle pace again. Dynamic to say the least!

Queen of Blood is a natural progression of the story presented in Blood for Irina. Alexander takes Queen of Blood and expands on that universe, has a wider space in which its story takes place, locations are bigger, there are more characters, more depth, we get further into the head of the mystical Irina. Also Queen of Blood lives up to its title, as there is more blood and violence this time around, in a provocative way. Alexander get’s in there and pushes some limits and in many ways opening up new roads for fever dreams to come. Just wait until you see the re-birth lake of blood scene, it’s a fantastic moment, and what happens to lead there is shocking indeed.

Personally I see Queen of Blood as a genesis story, I see moments here that clarify why Irina reacts as she does in the initial movie, even though Alexander sees it as a sequel, and another of Irina’s feverish dreams taking place in that remote hotel room of Blood for Irina. An exciting detail is that the movie takes place in a timeless universe. What starts off as a Western setting gradually shifts into a contemporary setting and in its own way becomes a metaphor for Irina’s timelessness. After all, Irina is eternal!

There’s also an interesting and captivating wider aspect to Queen of Blood; Alexander is building a universe in the same way that Rollin and Franco built universes around their recurrent characters, themes and stories. These universes are key to Alexander’s movies, and without them you may just find yourself lost in Irina’s world. It’s the recognition and the familiarity of how those films work that is echoed through Alexander’s Irina movies. Sometimes a perfectly composed shot will tell you more than a line of dialogue; sometimes metaphors will work better than explanatory a poor exposition; sometimes less is more giving the audience an opportunity to become one with the piece instead. It will alienate some viewers, and will undoubtedly polarize the genre fans, but with that said, Queen of Blood isn't a movie for each and every genre fan either. It's a required taste, and as far as I'm concerned, I'd rather go with original over generic any day. Queen of Blood isn't for everyone, and everyone will not be for Queen of Blood. 

Queen of Blood is a worthy sequel, or prequel if you take my path of interpretation. Alexander has done well within his own universe. He takes us on a completely different path this time, but sticks to the themes and tone that he introduced in Blood for Irina. At times it doesn’t quiet manage to hold the same magic aura that Blood for Irina had, but it’s definitely bigger, bolder and more ambitious creating a captivating tone and universe. Irina is a great character, and the fact that Alexander doesn’t present a transparent backstory and a traditional explanation to her character works in advantage of the piece. She keeps her mysticism and that means it doesn’t collide with the fact that Irina, as she is in both movies, is basically emotionless. Irina shows no angst, no remorse, she’s just cold-blooded killer… or is she? The only thing that haunts her is her eternal damnation to walk this earth and that “loss”, "search" and "longing", the same ever-important Jean Rollin themes.  I have a theory on that, but will leave it to a later time as you still have to see the movie and how it unfolds before we discuss that without spoiling. Queen of Blood also opens up doors into a universe that Alexander knows like the back of his hand, and he doesn’t hold back on tipping his hat, even though he’s claiming his own turf in those familiar spaces. I have a feeling that in a decade or two someone will have the great delight of digging into the universe of Irina and Chris Alexander as many of us have dug into the worlds, themes and symbolism of Jean Rollin and Jess Franco, because Irina is eternal, and she is the Queen of Blood.

The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence)

The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence)

Directed by: Tom Six

USA, 2011

Horror, 88min

All right! I change my initial verdict. The one I had before watching the movie was wrong. The Human Centipede II falls right into the same mould as I found Eli Roth’s Hostel versus Hostel 2 to fall into. The initial movies didn’t do much for me, I found them lacking, insulting and not worth the extensive hype that they came with… They where pretty poor genre pieces in my eyes, and complete disappointments…  But then Roth seemed to have taken everything I didn’t like with the initial movie and dumped it when he made the second, which came off a much better film. This is exactly the same way I feel about The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence). Everything I didn’t like with the initial instalment is gone, and instead Tom Six came out with a movie that definitely is a much more provocative film, a much more character invested film, and undoubtedly a much more disturbing film. The Human Centipede II is a much better film than it's predecessor!

Martin Lomax [Laurence R. Harvey] is a sad sod indeed. He’s a mentally challenged, short grown man who spends his nights as a night watchman in a parking lot. He’s completely obsessed with Tom Six The Human Centipede and has decided that he’s gong to out centipede Six, with a human centipede of his own consisting of a dozen people.

Ok, so how do you create a monster? Well, you can go stereotype as Six did in his first part, but that would leave you with a pretty shallow beast – The Evil Ex Nazi doctor. But when it comes to Martin, there’s no holds barred. Martin is as mentioned mentally challenged, asthmatic, obese, and suffering from an obvious gland problem as he’s always sweating profusely. He’s the victim of child abuse, and still victimized by his Mother [Vivien Bridson] and her friend Doctor Sebring [Bill Hutchens]. His mother is manically depressed as she holds Martin responsible for her beloved husbands incarceration in prison. She keeps Martin in an evil and abusive grip as she constantly threatens to take his and her lives, and tries to make this happen on several occasions… There’s no doubt about it, Martin is a scarred man, and his only two pleasures in life are his pet centipede and that damned movie he’s totally obsessed with. With Martin, Tom Six has created a fascinating genre character. When Martin get’s overexcited - whilst watching the movie for the umpteenth time - I feel pity for him as he solis his pants in excitement, and when he shoots the lurid Doctor in the genitals, I cheer him on. That’s the power of creating a fiend with dimension.

After his Mother destroys his totem-like scrapbook of The Human Centipede, it’s crowbar to the head all around. Mom, the abusive neighbour [, and the creepy Doctor, are all taken care of, and with this detachment from his “ordinary world” it’s time to set the plan in motion – A twelve piece human centipede.

The Meta aspect of The Human Centipede II works really well. Martin being obsessed, no I’d rather say, possessed with Six film.  Repeatedly watching it. Using it as an assembly manual, and also his budding nervosity with meeting Ahslynn Yennie – who he via her agent tricks into believing she’s going to an audition for a Tarantino flick, only to put her as the head of his creation. I really like what the soundtrack does for the film. It’s an industrial groaning throughout the movie – much like David Lynch’s Eraserhead – and without a rhythm to the noise, it becomes part of the world Martin lives in. It’s quite possible it’s the sound Martin hears in his head… something that may be closer to the truth than you imagined.

The stuff we didn’t see in part one is all shown here. As soon as Martin cuts the clothes off his first female victim and leaves her writhing naked on the cold wet floor of the abandoned warehouse, it’s apparent Six isn’t going to hide anything from us this time around. Teeth are hammered out, knives slice through flesh, tongues are ripped out with pliers, genitalia is mutilated for pleasure – and this time there’s no, sterile home hospital with anesthesia, anywhere to be seen.

Where the first movie really didn’t generate much engagement – The Human Centipede II works in a baleful kind of way that reminds me of Laugier’s diabolical Martyrs, where I find myself wanting the cult to succeed in killing Anna [Morjana Alajoui] so that I can find out what actually happens when she reaches the state of martyrdom. The same kind of manipulative narrative grabs me here, and I really become engaged in Martin’s macabre and perverse project. I want to see him succeed… even if Martins motivation to create the medical monstrosity is merely to satisfy his faecal fetish. 

As Martin reaches his goal he looses all of the emotional recognition that has been built up for the character, and Six can push the movie right into a baleful nightmare. It reaches a climactic orgasm of depravity and atrocity, which Six delivers in the most shocking ways. All the pity we’ve felt for and Martin makes the last act a devastating one, and the impact is immense something I found the first instalment never even being close to. The old rules of tell then show, can be applied if you look at the two films together. Where he first told, he really shows it all in the sequel.

Laurence R. Harvey gives one hell of a show, and it really is a stand out performance. If I hadn’t seen the Making of material and seen him conversing with Six and other cast members, I would have taken him for a real mentally challenged person. That’s how convincing his performance is. I also like when movies have the balls to dig right in there and just let story develop on it’s own. The movie has no opening titles, no initial attack, no wasting time. When Coppola opted against opening credits on Apocalypse Now, he was looking for a more documentary tone to his film. I’d say the same goes for The Human Centipede II which with it’s black and white cinematography (only faeces is shown in colour), hand held camera and quick start into the mind of Martin works in the same way.

You could call the “fictional movie” to be the initial attack if you want one, and you could also call it the inciting incident – it’s what makes Martin take up his quest.  The point of no return is when he frees himself of the chains that keep him from putting his plan in motion. There’s character development, the movie relies heavily on a degradation plot, and the last act will scar you – and make your ass itch.

The last scene is a somewhat ambiguous one that leaves the audience with confusion as to what they just witnessed. It works in a cunning and subtle way, and leaves questions with the audience that they have to answer themselves. Answers that will reflect how you have invested in the narrative and how you value the acts you just witnessed. It could be interpreted as a quickfix to wrap up the movie, and I’m sure someone’s yapped about that in their reviews. But I really like movies that challenge their audience – i.e. making me want bad things to happen – and with the closing images, I find that Tom Six justifies Martin and brings everything back down to earth. Knowing that Martin’s character will return in the proposed The Human Centipede III, I find myself looking forward to where Six will take Martin, and the evolution of the Centipede.

I stand corrected! Despite not finding much shocking about the original movie, this sequel shines a completely new light on Tom Six as far as I’m concerned. This movie is a well-conducted exercise that proves he does know how to creep the fuck out of an audience, and The Human Centipede II is unquestionably an unsanitary melting pot of insanity and provocative genre.

Philosophy of a Knife

Philosophy of a Knife [QuickFix]

Directed by: Andrey Iskanov

Russia/USA, 2008

Drama/ Documentary, 249min

A documentation of war crime atrocities conducted by Japanese Unit 731 during the Second World War. A harrowing brew of archival footage, re-enactments and interviews with Anatoly Protasov, who was a former doctor/ military translator at the trials of the U731 doctors in Khabarovsk, USSR at the end of WWII.

Phew, prepare yourself to be mangled by the steamroller of malevolence, because Philosophy of a Knife is the Ben Hur of extreme cinema!  An epic piece of work, that drains its audience with almost four and a half hours of grotesque but captivating study of the legendary Unit 731.

Crafted through interviews, archive footage and reconstructions, Andrey Iskanov’s joyride of atrocities beats the shit out of any History Chanel documentary ever. This is the ultimate history of Unit 731, the Japanese research facility that conducted chemical and biological experiments on prisoners of war, from the early days, to their exposure and trial after the war. I can’t argue the accuracy of the Protasov interviews, but that old man has an aura of authenticity which definitely set’s up a level of realism which totally sells me the coming scenes of archival footage the often lead up to the brutalities to be re-enacted. What makes this such an overwhelming and powerful trip is the way Iskanov brings his Art-house-surrealistic touch to the realm of tortures and death. Even in the midst of the most grotesque of moments, there’s an aesthetic that propels the onscreen monstrosities deeper into the mind. Rapid edits, loud music, re-enactments cut against real footage and archival material creates juxtaposition from hell, and it becomes a test of endurance.

There’s a decent enough idea behind the movie, as Iskanov claims in his introduction that he wanted to show the events from the Japanese side and the morale dilemma that came with working there. This is obvious through the subplots found in each part of the two part movie, concerning a young nurse [Yukari Fujimoto] and her letters to those at home – who’s voice is performed by Manoush, German actress/singer/writer who also holds an important part in Marc Rohnstock’s Necronos: The Tower of Doom 2010 – and in the second part where a young officer [Tetusro Sakagami] finds himself conflicted between his emotions for a Russian female prisoner [Elena Poboatova] whist in the service of the Emperor, torturing people for a superior purpose.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day, it’s the sleaze, the gore, the violence of the special effects (or what is shown, I’ll never look at cockroaches in the same way ever again) that one comes to this movie for. Sure the history lesson is tantalizing, but it becomes a competition of comparison to the Men Behind the Sun films from the 80-90's. Iskanov pulls it off with bravura, giving new takes on classic scenes and bringing some even more disturbing stuff with him. Fuck The Human Centipede, this is four hours plus of medical accuracy, and let’s just say that the effects are gag-inducing.

The audioscape of this thing is amazing, there is no sound effect left unused as Iskanov pushes his nightmarish images to a further level with noises and industrial music that could compete with a Merzbow concert.

I guess the thing that attracts audiences the most with Philosophy of a Knife and the Men Behind the Sun movie, is the basic fact that these are all real atrocities which where performed on real people. The Evil that mankind does holds a strong macabre fascination for us all in our daily struggle with the fact that we are all going to die one day. In the safety of our TV couch it’s easy to gloat upon the carnage, but never forget that this is telling you a real story, and the morale debate on doing wrong for a good cause is a fascinating one. I often toy with the idea, what if Unit 371, or even the Nazi WW2 human experiments had come up with a life-altering discovery? How would this affect our otherwise polarized judgement on the matter?

Philosophy of a Knife get’s 6/6, and that’s for the approach to the subject matter and sheer enormity of this movie. Although there are some minor flaws, which in all honesty would be like complaining about the tan marks on the nuns in eighties nunsploitation flicks, or sock marks on nude inmates in WI.P films, the film is still totally worth the full house. Damn, four hours plus of vile grimness, interwoven with an important historic story. This is potent stuff. Just after Iskanov had completed postproduction, and had shipped his cut/footage to US for the DVD release, he was obtained by the FSB - that’s KGB to you and me mate! His computer and materials where seized and he was continuously interrogated on the source and extent of his research. After being held captive in a military base prison cell for five days, Iskanov was released with little of his materials or computers given back. I’d would have written it up as a genius marketing gimmick if I didn’t know that, one of the ballsiest Swedish movie distributors, have been trying to get this movie out for over a year now. More than one hard drive has been seized by officials on the way between Iskanov and the distributor. Or the fact that the box of discs I once sent my mate Alex in Russia, never arrived at his place either! One wonders what they where afraid Iskanov may have found…?

I forbid you to call yourself a fan of extreme cinema until you’ve sat through the full 249 minutes of Philosophy of a Knife.

AMER

Amer

Directed by: Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani

France/Belgium, 2009

Drama/Horror/ Arthouse, 87min.

Distributed by: Anchor Bay

Where the yanks pay homage to their gore, slasher and grindhouse history, the Europeans create pastiches of their cultural treasures found amongst the alternative genres… such is the case with Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani’s stunning debut feature Amer!

Amer is without a doubt the most minimalist and stylised approaches to the horror genre ever put on screen. But it’s also one of the richest and most detailed movies in the genre. Anyone with the slightest knowledge of European art house, the mystery of the Italian Gialli, the lighting of Mario Bava, the sensuality of Borowczyk, the daring mise en scène of Jean-Luc Goddard, to name a few will undoubtedly fall in love with the many nods, homage’s and direct referents to the many movies that dominate the visual style, narrative and tone of Amer.

Amer tells the tale of a woman, Ana, in three stages of her life, [Casandra Forêt, Charlotte Eugène Guibeaud & Marie Bos] as a child where the death of an elder haunts her and set’s demonic ghosts at play, her adolescences, where budding sexuality torments her as she comes of age and tries to fins her place in her new body, and finally the adult Ana coming to grasps with her memories of childhood and the traumatising experiences that she had.

A fascinating aspect of Amer is the minimalist dialouge. There are no long scenes of dialogue or hefty monologs; instead the restricted discourse pushes forth to suggestive imagery that drives the narrative forth.

Symbolism and metaphors are a huge part of Amer and it’s discourse with the viewer. It’s in the colour schemes, it’s in the imagery, it’s in the unspoken dialogue, it’s in the juxtapositions - it’s everywhere. Where deliberate referents have been created, they in turn spin non-intended into play.

Amer plays like a checklist of your favourite Euro horror titles, especially witin the Gialli sphere. Dario Argento’s Deep Red and Suspria, Sergio Martino’s Torso and All the Colours of the Dark, Lucio Fulci’s New York Ripper and many more, are all movies that flash to mind when watching Amer. Something that obviously pleases an old genre hound like myself.

Then there’s that superb soundtrack - what a soundtrack! A mere six tracks make up the entire soundtrack to Amer - Bruno Nicolai’s La Coda Della Scorpione, Ennio Morricone’s Un Uomob Si è Dimesso, A. Celentano/E. Leoni/P. Vivarelli’s Furore and Stelivio Cipriani’s La Polizia Chiede Aiuto, La Polizia Sta A Guardare and La Polizia Ha Le Mani Legate. Six tracks, six classics, six friggin’ masterpieces that give further dimension to Amer and propel the narrative forth when the music bursts through the speakers. You know the movies and that sets you in a certain mind frame. Obviously these tracks are very determined choices to layer out the movie and indicate to what is happening. Each track holds a key to reading the movie. There’s thought behind placing a track from a movie about childhood traumas and sexually charged crimes alongside the images that enhance the experience. It brings an incredible depth to the movie.

Amer is also quite possibly the most sexually explicit movie that you will ever see without actually seeing anything. Yes, without seeing anything. This is a magnificent aspect of Amer, everything is insinuated, everything is amplified by sound and image, but you never see it. The second and final act all ooze sex. You can almost taste it in the air from the atmosphere this movie creates. Theme wise, Amer is all about life, sex and death, which is exactly how the three acts play out.

The first sees Ana coming face to face with death, hence realising the value of her own life. She struggles against the antagonistic forces of the “ghosts” in an attempt to save her own life. The act comes to a harrowing climax – no pun intended – when she interrupts her parents being intimate, their own way of overcoming death. A moment that scars Ana, haunting her for the rest of her life. I will get back to that in a moment.

The second act is the sex act. Ana has become a young woman. All men she encounters look at her from a voyeuristic standing point. We can easily read their minds; they all want her. This is also enhanced though the choices of imagery. Low camera angles, almost peeking up her skirt, the oral symbolism of “sucking on her hair”, wind blowing through her thighs... If you pay attention you will also notice how her mother [Bianca Maria D’Amato] sees her daughter as a threat. She constantly corrects Ana’s ways and when there’s a man on horizon, she evokes all her female attributes, becoming almost a woman and not a mother anymore – a mother with needs, lusts and desires which may not have been responded to in a long time – we see no father figure and the scene is secondarily about a trip to the hairdresser. In a way it’s the mother’s demonstration of power over the young woman, the young woman who obviously is still a child in her mothers eyes. The entire scene holds a feeling of that classic moment where a parent corrects their child from doing the same things that make up their own traits. Do as I say, not what I do…

The final act is the obvious climax/death act, in more than one way. Remember that the French also call the orgasm “Le petitie mort”. Pretty early on in this sequence Ana falls onto a tree trunk and puts her hand in resin. With the suggestive line of association that has been put forth so far in the movie, this resin is not too far from come, a climax symbolism in it’s own right. There’s the anticipation of coming full circle, we are back in the house where the mystery started, we are expecting the ghosts to come back, but instead we encounter a completely different kind of ghost, the ghost of fornication past. Also there’s the climax to the line of Ana’s story. Where we expect her to fall victim, things take a completely different path. Pay attention to the closing scene, it’s a compact concentrate of the three main themes of the movie Life-Sex-Death and when the final climax is reached colour comes back to the world. The circle starts once again.

Freudian analysts would have a field day with this movie, one example being the cyclic movement that flows throughout the movie and the oral fixation, be it fingers, tongue or straight razor in the mouth of Ana. But getting into a brief psychoanalysis, AMer is once again a testament to the great power of guilt. Once again it rears it’s head and shows just how effective it is. As a child Ana interrupts her parents having sex. Her mother is crying a trait that a child will read as pain or sadness. Therefore Ana can’t be intimate without feeling sadness or pain. Also the frightening ordeal before she disrupts her parents – the blasphemy of stealing from a dead person, the horror of having ones life threatened, and the traumatising interruption – seeing mom crying as father [Jean-Michel Vovk] penetrates her – undoubtedly make it impossible for Ana to be intimate. Instead she get’s her kicks from stalking and claiming her own victims.

Her guilt of the childhood experience, disrespecting the dead, evading death, and interrupting life make her the hot mess she is. The life-sex-death circle is complete. Taking a Lacanic approach to the movie and his theory of “objet petit a” it could be fair to suggest that Ana is metaphorically murdering her father for causing that “pain” her mother experienced in the first act.

Without competition, Amer is one of the most visually stunning movies in a long time, but be aware - this isn’t a movie for a lazy audience, this is a movie that you need to pay attention to whilst watching. It may seem to be random imagery, but observing and taking in what you see will lead you to the conclusion. Much like watching early Giallo movies. You think you know where it’s going but you will never be prepared for the next surprise that comes your way. Not until the final moment will you be able to read the movie and gain the insight you are looking for.

Amer - suggestive, surreal and seductive, a honey-coated mindfuck – it probes deep and thrusts hard. With this movie Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani definitely have created a fascinating art-house genre piece that reaches the top of the scale. But the major question is where do they go from here?

Extras:

On the BluRay you can find the four short movies directed by Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani. These four short movies obviously play as a breeding ground for the style, and themes that later would become Amer. There's also the theatrical trailer and teaser.

Now tell me that the juxtaposition below was unintentional...