High Anxiety (1977)

2009 #65
Mel Brooks | 94 mins | TV | 15 / PG

High AnxietyMel Brooks pays comedic tribute to Alfred Hitchcock — in case you can’t tell, the second credit is a prominent dedication — but those unfamiliar with the Master of Suspense’s output need not apply.

Brooks presents a largely Hitchcockian plot, though the clearest references come in a couple of sketches and one-liners. To be fair, there are several significant Hitchcock films I’ve still not seen, leaving the nagging sensation that some allusions and gags simply passed me by. On the other hand, maybe they just weren’t funny — I can’t remember many laughs that didn’t spring from a Hitchcock reference of some kind.

Indeed, whole chunks pass by without a laugh. At other times, bits that are clearly meant to be funny just don’t hit home (though I’m aware that, inevitably, they will for some people), while some gags are almost reassuringly familiar: a dramatic piece of music kicks in, causing characters to look around until they see a band in full swing has appeared nearby, for just one example.

Things pick up considerably in the second half, which is also more obviously Hitchcockian to my mind. Some scenes offer very good, though specific, riffs on famous Hitchcock moments — a version of Psycho’s shower scene is particularly memorable, though a scatological take on The Birds will please some — but these are almost exclusively asides to the story, little sketches inserted wherever Brooks can find space to squeeze them in. They provide welcome amusement, but are far from integrated into the plot.

At this point I’m beginning to suspect Brooks’ humour just doesn’t gel with me. I enjoyed Spaceballs when I was younger, but watching it a couple of years ago I found it more embarrassing than entertaining. Even the widely praised Blazing Saddles raised little more than the occasional smile. High Anxiety, unfortunately, now joins this line-up.

2 out of 5

Alone in the Dark (2005)

2009 #69
Uwe Boll | 94 mins | TV | 18 / R

Alone in the DarkI’ve never played an Alone in the Dark game. I wanted to, when I was young and they were a widely-known cutting-edge franchise, but it was deemed too scary or adult or something like that and I wasn’t allowed. (By the time someone’s nostalgia revived the series nearly a decade later, I didn’t care.) I’ve also never seen an Uwe Boll film, though his reputation obviously precedes him. Considering the latter, having no attachment to the former is probably a benefit to assessing this — I understand that, story-wise, it bears virtually no relation — but I can’t say it helps much.

Right from the off, things don’t look good: it opens with an essay’s worth of backstory in scrolling text… which, just to rub it in, is also read out. It takes about a minute and a half. There are any number of screenwriting rules this not so much breaks as slowly and methodically grinds into sand. Some rules can be bent or broken to good effect if the writer knows what they’re doing, but others exist for damn fine reasons and breaking them just results in a lesser film. This is unquestionably the latter. There’s an almost-excuse: the text was added after test audiences said they didn’t understand the plot. But it’s not much of one. The relevant information is all revealed later in the film too, and neither manage to explain what the hell is going on. It’s not the audience’s fault they couldn’t understand the plot, it just doesn’t make sense.

Quickly, the poor quality opening is cemented with the addition of a dire voiceover narration from Christian Slater’s lead character. He addresses the audience in a chatty style that’s both irritating and incongruous, and primarily exists to continuously dump more useless info. That it disappears without a trace fairly early on is a relief, but proves how pointless and cheap it was in the first place.

And then there’s an action sequence, which defies logic in every respect. The editing mucks up continuity, the good guys turn into a dead-end marketplace for no reason — other than it provides a handily enclosed location for the ensuing fist fight — the bad guy rams cars, scales buildings and jumps through windows, also for no reason, and the fight seems to consist of a punch followed by some slow motion standing around (yes, it’s the standing around that’s in slow motion) repeated too often, interspersed with the occasional ‘cool’ move or shot. On the bright side, there’s one sub-Matrix, Wanted-esque shot of a bullet-time close-up as Carnby fires at the bad guy through a block of ice, which in itself is passably entertaining. You’ll note, of course, that that’s one good shot. One. Shot.

I could go through every scene in the film describing what’s wrong in this way, but no one wants to suffer that. Suffice to say it only gets worse — none of the initial flaws improve, but are compounded by more weak performances (Tara Reid as some kind of scientist?) and the story entirely vacating proceedings. Before halfway I gave up following the plot — after all, why try to follow something that makes no sense in the first place — and just hoped it could pull out some interesting or exciting sequences. But the horror sequences have no tension and the fights no coherence. One action sequence, which begins entirely out of the blue, sees soldiers shooting at beast-thingies in the dark, lit only by muzzle flashes, set to a thumping metal soundtrack. It probably seemed innovative when conceived, but instead is laughable for all the wrong reasons. Like the rest of the film.

Sadly, none of it’s laughable in a charming way — this is not So Bad It’s Good territory. Take the moment where the good guys arrive at an abandoned gold mine that’s actually the villain’s Super Secret Lair. They bring a whole army’s worth of heavily armed marines. Commander blokey insists it’s nothing like enough men… and then proceeds to enter the mine with just half a dozen of them. If there was no budget for more it might be funny, but the rest stay up top to be slaughtered by some Primeval-quality CGI. Even the ending, supposed to be ambiguous apparently, is just a meaningless cop-out that makes absolutely no sense. Like the rest of the film.

Sometimes I feel sorry for Christian Slater. He always seems a nice guy in interviews, yet this kind of drivel is all the work he can get. At the time of writing it’s the 82nd worst film of all time on IMDb (according to its own page, though not that chart). While this is the kind of status that’s often an overreaction (the number of people on IMDb declaring various films are “the worst film ever” suggests most of them have been fortunate enough to never see a truly bad movie), for once it’s justified: Alone in the Dark is irredeemably atrocious.

1 out of 5

If you want to subject yourself to Alone in the Dark, ITV4 are showing it tonight at 11pm.

Alone in the Dark featured on my list of The Five Worst Films I Saw in 2009, which can be read in full here.

The Apartment (1960)

2009 #36
Billy Wilder | 125 mins | download | PG

The ApartmentAn article I once read (but have long since misplaced, unfortunately) asserted that Billy Wilder once said (and I paraphrase heavily here, I’m sure) that, contrary to expectations, when he was feeling happy he’d make a serious picture, and when feeling down he’d make a comedy. Goodness only knows what kind of mood he was in when he chose to make The Apartment, then, because it flits between the two with gay abandon.

It begins almost as a farce, with Jack Lemmon playing up the near-misses inherent in lending your apartment to adulterous men; and though this comedic vein never goes away, the film also develops a dark side. Alongside the affairs and underhand dealings — in which our hero is closely involved — there’s an attempted overdose, discussion of other suicide methods, and respectable men getting divorced. It all seems quite shocking for a film made under the Hays Code, though that was on its last legs (Wilder’s own Some Like It Hot had been released without code approval the year before and still been a huge hit), and Mad Men and its ilk suggest such goings-on by businessmen may not have been so surprising to contemporary viewers either.

On the technical side, Wilder employs long scenes and long takes, but Lemmon never stops bustling through them, always doing something, keeping the film active and moving even when Wilder declines to follow. It’s the latter that makes the former so effective, rendering Lemmon’s character the odd one in an otherwise static world, the one still turning to humour in the face of all life’s bleakness.

Real life always serves up humour alongside tragedy, yet despite that it takes skilled filmmakers to do the same without one lessening the other. Wilder and Lemmon are, of course, among them, and one can imagine few finer examples of such a blend than The Apartment.

5 out of 5

Stranger on the Third Floor (1940)

2009 #55
Boris Ingster | 64 mins | TV

Stranger on the Third FloorDespite being “released the same month as Raoul Walsh’s They Drive By Night, and four months after Alfred Hitchcock’s Gothic Noir Rebecca,” says Paul Duncan in The Pocket Essential Film Noir, “this is often listed as the first Film Noir”. Not often enough to earn the treatment you’d expect such an accolade to afford, it would seem, as I hear it’s rarely screened and only available on DVD in Spain. That’s a shame, because it’s an entertaining — if brief — example of the genre.

The story is a morality tale of sorts. A journalist is the key witness to convict a man of murder, albeit on fairly circumstantial evidence; the journalist’s fiancee disagrees with what he did, though he tries to persuade her round to his way of thinking; but then the journalist finds himself in virtually the same situation, and it’s up to the fiancee to prove his innocence. And that’s most of the plot I’m afraid, though to be frank it’s fairly ancillary anyway.

The screenplay is a little slight and stretches its credibility — would a man really be convicted on such circumstantial evidence, for example? It plays structural tricks too: at one point the lead character is arrested off screen and the focus switches to his fiancee for the remainder of the film. Perhaps they didn’t have the money left for a cell set. Such leaps suggest an underdeveloped story, but on the bright side it certainly keeps things moving.

Despite these faults, many individual scenes are rather good. The journalist spends half the film pacing his room, for example, contemplating whether his irritating neighbour is dead or not, but it remains gripping. When he sleeps he has a nightmare, a showcase not only for the expressionist-influenced cinematography, but also the writing: the opening trial scene features a humourously inattentive judge and sleepy jury, but the exact same elements return to haunt our hero when he dreams he’s in the dock.

The climax is virtually the only scene to feature top-billed Peter Lorre to any significant degree, here fulfilling a couple of days left on his RKO contract with a small role. Nonetheless, in this one scene he out-acts the rest of the cast put together, using just a few lines of backstory to really flesh out his underwritten character. The sequence where the fiancee tries to escape him is suitably sinister. Still, the scene is over quickly and without the fullest logic in its execution — much like the film as a whole.

Stranger on the Third Floor is so imbued with the recognisable calling cards of noir in its cinematography, characters and plot points that it feels more like an entry in a well-established genre than a formative inclusion. At only just over an hour it is, on the one hand, too brief to dig into its characters or complicate its story, but on the other, it rattles past quickly enough that the good bits impress, the weak bits are only briefly registered, and it’s over long before anyone might even consider considering it a waste of time.

4 out of 5

Babel (2006)

2009 #41
Alejandro González Iñárritu | 138 mins | TV (HD) | 15 / R

BabelMulti Oscar nominated and one of Ebert’s Great Movies, Babel is one of those films that comes with a lot of expectation riding on it. The fact that the only Iñárritu film I’ve previously seen is 21 Grams, which I thought was distinctly overrated, takes the shine off those expectations. Probably for the best.

The quickest way to assess Babel is to say that it is about something — or, About Something. The plots, such as they are, aren’t really the point; nor is how they connect, or what chronology they actually occurred in — this isn’t a Memento or a Rashomon, a narrative in odd pieces designed to be reconstructed by the viewer. Naturally, because it is About Something, the Something it is About isn’t made blindingly clear, though there are many contenders — loneliness, miscommunication, culture clashes, the ripple effect, children, and on. Perhaps this means it isn’t as focused as it could (or should?) be; perhaps Iñárritu revels in ambiguity, which isn’t necessarily a problem.

On a relatively surface level, then: the Japanese story barely connects to the others, which are all more directly woven together. Even if their connectedness isn’t the point, when the others are so clearly and directly related it leaves the Japanese thread feeling the odd one out, almost tacked on to the others. It’s probably a coincidence that it’s also the film’s best story, containing about as much incident and interest as the other three put together.

The central character in that particular thread is portrayed by Rinko Kikuchi, who justly earnt a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination for her work. The film’s only other Oscar acting nomination went to Adriana Barraza, in the same category, for her role as a Mexican nanny. Again, a deserved nod, as these are easily the two most compelling performances in Babel. (They lost to Jennifer Hudson in Dreamgirls. I’ve not seen Dreamgirls, but as the other nominees were Abigail Breslin (for Little Miss Sunshine) and Cate Blanchett (for Notes on a Scandal), I’m willing to bet she was the least deserving of all five.)

If the Japanese thread is the best then Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett’s story is the weakest of the bunch, managing to underuse both those leads and a host of British talent too. The other two stories are equally slight, but at least muster up some genuine emotion.

Babel is the kind of film that it’s easy to overrate because, ooh, doesn’t it seem clever. Conversely, it’s easy to underrate because, ooh, doesn’t it seem pretentious. Naturally, therefore, I’m going to come down right in the middle (but note that the Japanese story on its lonesome would earn a 4).

3 out of 5

Eastern Promises (2007)

2009 #32
David Cronenberg | 97 mins | DVD | 18 / R

Eastern PromisesArguably most famous for his horror films of the ’80s (though a couple of his ’90s efforts could stake a claim), director David Cronenberg widened his appeal somewhat with the excellent crime thriller A History of Violence. Here he reunites with star Viggo Mortensen for another grim tale, switching the bright searing heat of the American Midwest for the rain-drenched nighttime streets of our fair capital.

Despite some similarities in plot and theme, Eastern Promises failed to engage me in the same way as the earlier effort. Perhaps this is because it plays tag with its central character, beginning with Naomi Watts’ do-gooder nurse before shifting focus to Mortensen’s mafia chauffeur with nary a blink. It’s an unusual transition, and consequently it’s hard to tell whether it’s skillful writing or a fortuitous accident that it comes off seamlessly. One theoretical screenwriting argument would have it that the film is actually all about Christine, the baby, and that’s why it works, but that feels a little too pretentious to engage with now.

Tied around the baby’s fate, screenwriter Steven Knight factors in some appropriately dark elements, like white slavery or the relocated criminal underworld that currently operates in the UK. Though these are handled with a certain amount of care, they’ve been covered in greater depth elsewhere (the excellent miniseries Sex Traffic, for example) and here are reduced to pawns in a different tale. This isn’t necessarily inappropriate, but remembering the detail from other such dramas can leave the topics’ inclusion here feeling lightweight.

Elsewhere, the screenplay suffers from some awkward dialogue exchanges and barely credible logic contrivances being used to jump-start the plot. Most of these come from Watts’ character, who seems too competent for much of the film to pass off as a naïve fool at its start. This may be Watts’ fault, playing her as intelligent when a naïve approach might render her actions more believable, but it seems cruel to lay the blame with her as she’s very strong all round. Armin Mueller-Stahl also gives his typically accomplished turn in his typically key supporting role.

Mortensen’s Oscar-nominated performance is the focus, however. Apparently thoroughly immersed in the role, he gives a distinguished performance throughout and is central to what are by far the film’s most memorable moments: a nude steam baths fight, which has become justifiably infamous (I suspect for the “nude” part, but it’s the “fight” that deserves it), and a game-changing twist, that I sadly had ruined in advance, though there are plenty of clues scattered along the way.

By its end, Eastern Promises has the feel of the first part of something bigger: while the story of the baby is resolved, many others are left open. Unresolved threads aren’t always a problem, but it feels like Cronenberg has more to say in this world. So it’s nice to know a sequel is possibly in the works, because Eastern Promises has the potential to be a Hobbit to some Russian mafia epic’s Lord of the Rings. On the other hand, a similarly low-key follow-up would be just as appropriate.

Though it failed to capture me as much as A History of Violence, possibly due to too-raised expectations, Eastern Promises has the potential to grow with repeated viewings. And either type of continuation would be most welcome.

4 out of 5

Unfortunately, plans for a sequel ultimately fell apart in 2012. Some more details can be read here.

For Your Consideration (2006)

2009 #57
Christopher Guest | 79 mins | TV | 12 / PG-13

For Your ConsiderationThe makers of This is Spinal Tap and Best in Show — along with all their usual cast members — swing their satirical sights from others’ work to their own industry. Unfortunately, it’s not a patch on their previous efforts.

The biggest problem is that most of the gags feel a little familiar. It’s not that they’re unfunny, just that they don’t feel very original. Worst off are the numerous jokes about the internet, mobile phones and other technology, which feel more 1996 than 2006. It’s all lacking in subtlety, taking a broad swipe at the whole filmmaking industry rather than incisively mining its constituent parts for something insightful.

The best bits come in the second half, when the cast and crew (of the fictional film-within-a-film, that is) hit the campaign trail to promote their movie. The styles of TV shows that various people appear on — the different levels awarded to the leads, other cast members, the writers, and so on — has some decent satire, the closest For Your Consideration comes to being truly revealing.

Most disappointing is that this should have been so good. The team who basically invented the spoof documentary finally taking on their own industry? Brilliant! But it feels like they felt the same way and rushed into production without properly thinking it through. Which, in its own way, is rather ironic.

3 out of 5

Saw IV (2007)

2009 #62
Darren Lynn Bousman | 92 mins | DVD | 18 / R

This review contains minor spoilers.

Saw IVSaw IV is the final film in the series directed by Bousman, and will also be my jumping off point (for the time being). According to IMDb (which I presume is sourced from a commentary or something), Bousman had been intending to depart after Saw III, but was persuaded to stay when a twist in the fourth film’s script managed to surprise him, something he thought the franchise was by then incapable of. But do not let this get your hopes up, dear reader, because Saw IV lacks any twists that even come close to those in the preceding films. What caused Bousman to continue is a mystery, and some viewers will inevitably feel the same way about continuing with the series themselves.

After the overly gory third film, Saw IV returns to the franchise’s roots by playing more like a thriller than a horror film — even more so than the previous instalments, one might argue, as aside from a couple of jumps and a few instances of gore, the story and its key sequences move forward via police investigation, endless flashbacks and copious twists. The Saw franchise should be applauded for trying to be more than just another slasher series, but needs to learn the value of restraint in other areas.

The plot, for example, is incredibly complicated. This could be a good thing — it’s rare for the fourth film in a franchise, especially a horror one, to demand so much from its audience — and the viewer not only has to pay attention to the events on screen, but have a pretty good awareness of those from the last two films as well. Despite its complications, such connectedness is actually a reason to retain hope for the franchise, because it really tries to be about more than just how graphically it can slaughter people.

Unfortunately, any effort on the part of the viewer isn’t rewarded. Saw IV is too complex, ultimately descending into the realms of incomprehensibility. There are around four different plot threads, at least two of them jumping around in time like a TARDIS with ADD. Goodness knows how many different time zones are included, how many of them progress in a linear fashion, and whether or not they actually have any bearing on each other. Even references to previous films are confused: while this clearly begins some time after the end of Saw III, it then jumps back before Saw III, and then during Saw III, and then with Saw III, and then after Saw III again… but not as far after it as that opening scene. And that’s just the main plot.

A lot of the complexity is in aid of answering hanging questions from Saw II and, especially, III, but the mass of backstory leaves you wishing for a standalone ‘Test of the Film’ plot, which the first three essentially are. As already expressed, such an intricate array of stories is not necessarily a problem, but neither new writers Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan nor director Bousman have the required skill to guide the audience through such dense material. Nor the experience to know when less can be more, clearly.

Fortunately, Bousman seems to have learnt that “less is more” with the deaths. After the excess of Saw III, the gore feels pared back here. The one notable exception is an entirely extraneous autopsy that opens the film, which goes beyond the last entry’s brain surgery in the gruesome stakes. Apparently it’s to prove Jigsaw is unquestionably dead, but it does it with more glee and explicit medical detail than necessary.

Elsewhere, however, the savagery shortage is welcome — except that, in the process, Bousman seems to have misplaced the tension present in the first two films. The only real suspense is an opening trap that is, again, almost entirely extraneous to the rest of the plot, although one trap later on — featuring an abusive husband pinned to his wife — is moderately ingenious, achieving Jigsaw’s proclaimed ideas of apt justice in ways many previous traps failed to.

And what of Jigsaw this time? He may be dead, but instead we’re treated to flashbacks of John Kramer’s pre-Jigsaw life. As you may remember from my complaints in Saw III, revealing more about our villain is, in this case, not a good idea. Seeing Kramer before he was an Evil Bad Guy is clearly an attempt to make him a real person, one inspired to engage in a killing spree by every-day, real-life events. As with the other thriller elements, grounding the villain in the real world — and trying to give him plausible, relatable motivation — sets the Saw series apart from the vast majority of other horror franchises. But there’s no need to understand Jigsaw, and the more we learn about him the less impact he has. His soul is laid bare here, but by trying to make his actions plausible it continues to strip away the mystery and highlights how ludicrous his traps are in reality — they work fine in the conceit of a horror movie, but trying to imply it’s a real person doing these in the real world is one suspension of disbelief too far.

Which kind of sums up the film, really. Saw III went too far with its gore, and now Saw IV goes too far with its plot. As the series rattles on to its fifth instalment (and this year’s sixth, and next year’s seventh, and at least an eighth beyond that), its only hope for regaining a decent level of quality — in my opinion, of course — is to keep the gore at a manageable level, and keep the storytelling at one too.

2 out of 5

Technically I watched the Unrated/Extreme extended cut of Saw IV. The differences are numerous but ultimately minimal. Those desiring a full list of alterations can find one here.

Saw III (2006)

2009 #61
Darren Lynn Bousman | 109 mins | TV | 18 / R

This review could be seen to contain some spoilers.

Saw IIII’m reliably informed that, in the UK, we do our best not to allow people with psychopathic tendencies into the armed forces. In the US, on the other hand, they let them all in. And they also let them make movies like this.

Saw III is the point at which the franchise finally tips over into the justly reviled “torture porn” category. That’s not to say it’s solely focused on its gruesome deaths — as with the previous two films, there’s a thriller-ish plot to work through as well — but Jigsaw’s traps this time round are shown in excruciating detail. Perhaps the filmmakers are deliberately trying to shock their audience, increasingly desensitised by Saw wannabes, or perhaps they’ve just let their increased budget run rampant. Whatever the reason, it’s not welcome.

Along with it, the gore feels less justified. The traps have an element of invention about them, but the punishment doesn’t fit the crime in the same way it did in the first two films. There is arguably an explanation for this (to share it would be to spoil some of the plot), but that seems a thin excuse for a lack of intelligence on the part of the writers. In fact, one of the most gratuitously gory scenes is a brain surgery sequence that’s almost entirely unrelated to anyone’s test. It’s shown in unrelenting, unnecessary detail, coming across as the makers using some kind of “but it’s a medical procedure” excuse for showing more grisly detail than they might otherwise be allowed.

The story that links the monstrous set pieces together is a bit of a mixed bag, continuing dangling threads from the previous films while producing a few of its own that seem unconnected. It lacks the focus and straightforward drive of the first two instalments, but leaves the viewer longing for such a thing. The main test, once it gets underway, is quite a good idea, and different again to its predecessors. Here we have one man facing those he holds responsible for the death of his son, and it’s up to him whether they survive their traps. The traps may not be as clever as before, but the storyline is different enough to engage the audience’s interest.

But before the worthwhile bit can begin, we have a section that just feels like housekeeping — where Detective Matthews has got to, what happened next to Detective Kerry, what Amanda is up to now. Worse, woven around the main test is another story thread — one that finds Jigsaw on his deathbed (perhaps) and deems it necessary to fill us in on Amanda’s backstory. Unfortunately, this latter part is incredibly dull. That the film’s final moments reveal it was more relevant than previously expected does invite a re-watch, but the prospect of sitting through the sadistic mutilation — and nonetheless boring expository scenes — for a second time is just as off-putting.

Not only is the Jigsaw subplot dull, it’s also too revealing. One of the many things that marks Saw out from its horror stablemates is that Jigsaw is a real man, not a supernaturally-powered being, but he still works best as an enigmatic figure, menacing characters in occasional scenes that offer no more than a handful of tidbits about his past. Here, he’s both over-central and over-revealed. The more we learn the more his mystery is removed, he becomes less interesting and, worse, less threatening. Tobin Bell’s performance is as good as ever, but the character works better in fewer, more condensed doses.

As well as endless backstory, the screenplay also offers another final array of twists. The closing revelations were some of the best bits of the last two films, so are naturally loaded with expectation here. Personally, I didn’t find them to be much of a surprise, most of it guessable from too far in advance. Rather, the final round of frame-long flashbacks are desperate to make the viewer think it’s more of a twist than it is, kind of like the filmmakers explaining why something’s so clever in spite of it being a bit obvious. To be fair, these ‘twists’ aren’t stupid — in fact, they’re quite good — but I wasn’t surprised by them. As if Bousman and co were trying to redeem themselves, the scene that follows is quite tense, and one very final twist — just when you thought they were all twisted out — does manage to surprise. And it’s a cliffhanger to boot.

Indeed, despite a certain finality at the end, Saw III is ready-made for at least one further sequel (of course, as we now know, it’s got four and counting). There are all kinds of little bits that go unexplained here, from characters to blink-and-you’ll-miss-them plot-points-in-waiting, not to mention that it ends on that fairly substantial cliffhanger-twist. That it’s so brazen in its lack of comprehensive answers will irritate some, while others will delight in the knowledge there are still more mysteries to ponder.

Visually, Saw III is overcooked. The cinematography is too stylised, heavily filtered to offer a single-colour-saturated look for each location. Such a technique can be beneficial in certain contexts — Traffic, for example, lucratively uses an even more extreme example — but here feels like someone was let loose in the grading toolbox. Equally, the trickery with scene transitions — where different locations have been built on the same set so as to move between them without any editing or digital effects* — may have looked clever in 1940, but now seems needless. Worse, it confuses the storytelling and the audience’s sense of geography. It’s one thing tricking your viewer with plot twists, another entirely to needlessly mislead their understanding of filmic space. These wannabe-flashy transitions are inspired by similar ones in the preceding films, but there they were neatly subtle and surprisingly effective, while here they don’t look as cool as someone clearly thinks, as well as initiating moments of befuddlement.

Despite my ever-growing catalogue of complaints, there is a bright side for Saw III. What could have been just another rehash of the same basic plot conceit ramped up a bit more — from two people trapped in a room, to half a dozen trapped in a house, this could’ve just been a dozen trapped in an office block — instead chooses to come up with a new narrative structure. Yes, it’s still based around defeating a series of traps/tests, but in a genre where some franchise entries are merely distinguished by the different modes of death — if that — it’s tantamount to a revelatory change of style. It also holds the distinction of being the only Saw film so far I want to rewatch to better consider events (and, from a filmmaking standpoint, its narrative structure and balance), even if other elements put me off.

Though it’s Jigsaw’s story that merits this feeling, I’d still rather have less of him and more of the test he’s got on the go. Sadly, I think the franchise is headed in the exact opposite direction.

2 out of 5

* This technique was definitely used in Saw IV (according to IMDb), but I don’t know if it was also applied here or if it just looks like it was.

Saw II (2005)

2009 #60
Darren Lynn Bousman | 89 mins | TV (HD) | 18 / R

Saw IIThe games-playing slaughterfest returns in what I’m told is many fans’ favourite entry in the series. Maybe they’ve never seen Cube

Saw II is a horror sequel, which means it can’t help but take the same basic premise as its originator: serial killer Jigsaw locks a number of people in a room with a series of games/traps, which they can escape only if they can work out the clues to defeat them; and if not, they’ll be brutally murdered and/or disfigured. Where Saw II comes into its own is that it dares to do something a bit different with this premise, usually the hallmark of a worthwhile sequel.

Instead of two victims locked in a dingy bathroom we have too many to reasonably count locked in a whole house. Instead of the killer being largely unseen he’s a constant presence, in conversation with a police detective while events in the house unfold on monitors nearby. The film’s raison d’être is the same — people get injured/killed in nastily inventive ways — but someone (co-writer/director Bousman, in fact) actually bothered to come up with a story that’s more than superficially different.

Despite the terror and gore — and there’s a healthy (a word I use very, very loosely) dose of each — Saw II is arguably even more like a thriller than its predecessor. The police are more heavily involved this time, actually catching up with Jigsaw, and as much time is devoted to Detective Matthews’ negotiation/chat as it is to the predicament of the victims. Here we get a chance to see what a great villain Tobin Bell makes — subtly so, not the typically OTT psychopath killer designed to show off an actor’s ‘skill’. He’s not quite Spacey’s John Doe, but his quiet, determined, reasoned killer is a cut above the average. That he’s afforded a moderately reasonable motive and some character development is certainly more in line with thrillers than horror movies.

Meanwhile, in the house, Bousman seems to be going for a Cube-like atmosphere: a disparate group of people wake up together and must find a way out of a strange, booby-trapped location. This starts out well enough, unravelling both questions and answers at a pleasing speed, but unfortunately is unable to sustain it convincingly. Few of the victims achieve the level of distinct characterisation that Cube managed, suggesting there are more people locked in the house than the writers could comfortably handle or the story could really support.

Indeed, even the primary selling point is abandoned surprisingly quickly — it seems the writers don’t have enough ways to kill people. At least one just drops dead from the virus-that’s-there-from-the-start, which feels unsatisfactory, while another happens to wander into a trap when it’s time to dispatch someone else. Considering the amount of planning we know Jigsaw gives to his games, we should at least see that there are enough ways to kill everyone, even if some are then subverted through escape or avoidance.

There’s some redemption to be found at the climax, which produces a final round of twists that are almost equal to the first film’s triumphant reveal. Again I won’t give it away, but I’m sure some have called the biggest twist a cheat, on a par with “and they woke up and it was all a dream”. If they have, they’re wrong: it’s entirely in keeping with both the games Jigsaw might play and the flashback-driven style of the first film, not to mention that — as the insistent concluding recap shows — there are clues seeded all the way along. If it’s not as audaciously memorable as the twist in Saw, that’s through no fault of it’s own.

Saw II doesn’t just rehash the original, which is something to be thankful for in a horror sequel. There’s something close to character development, a nice opening setup, and an enjoyably twist-stacked ending. Unfortunately it can’t quite connect that opening to that ending, in spite of its brief running time, which means it fails to equal its predecessor’s overall quality. Fair effort though.

3 out of 5

Saw III premieres on Channel 4 tomorrow. Saw VI is in cinemas from Friday.