A Film a Week - The Lodgers

previously published on Cineuropa

The 50th edition of the Sitges International Fantastic Film Festival came to an end with the European premiere of the slow-burning, sexually charged ghost psychodrama The Lodgers, directed by Brian O’Malley (best known for his previous straight-up gory horror flick, Let Us Pray) and written by David Turpin as his debut screenplay. Given that it is more chill-inducing and ominous than it is downright scary, this gothic tale will fare better with the arthouse side of the genre audience than it will with the hardcore fans.

Ireland, shortly after World War I. Two twins on the brink of adulthood, Rachel (played by Spanish-British actress Charlotte Vega, of Another Me fame) and Edward (Bill Milner, from Anthropoid), are living in a large, crumbling mansion by a set of rules enforced by the titular ghostly creatures and explained through a creepy nursery rhyme that serves as the film’s soundtrack. They have to be in bed before midnight, they must never let a stranger into their house, and if one of them leaves, the other will die. There is more to it, obviously, since their parents committed suicide together, just like several generations before them over the 200 years since the family moved from England, harbouring a terrifying secret.

While Edward is obeying the rules and never even leaves the house due to the trauma he experienced a few years back, Rachel, who is going through a sexual awakening, is keener on moving on and exploring the world. Sean (Eugene Simon), a war veteran from a nearby village who lost his leg in combat, shows a considerable interest in her, as she is thinking about going away with him. An unannounced visit from the family lawyer (David Bradley) stating that the trust fund is depleted and the twins will have to sell the house to pay the debts will set in motion a chain of both earthly and supernatural events.

Vega is pretty assured in her performance, channelling the tension of her sexual awakening and all the hardships of being the more mature one in the household, while Milner is dark enough to be compelling as the more shy and obedient one. Vega’s romantic chemistry with Eugene Simon is believable enough to pass as young love, and Sean’s disillusionment with the world and his status as an outcast and traitor among his fellow villagers are probably the strongest points of the script, effectively portraying the spirit of the time and place. However, they would have benefited more if their characters had been better developed than they are in Turpin’s screenplay.

But this deliberately simple script is made up for by O’Malley’s directing, creating a lurid atmosphere by using cinematographer Richard Kendrick’s gentle camera movements and Tony Kearns’ measured editing to maximum effect, and even elevating the elements of the production design, such as the house and the menacing water, to the level of lively characters. The old, beautiful and broken mansion, with all its creaking noises and its huge wooden staircase, is allegedly a real-life haunted house, while the water the ghostly creatures live in, emerging from down below and rushing up to the ceiling in drops, looks impressive in CGI, making The Lodgers a must-see for fans of gothic horror cinema.

A Film a Week - How to Talk to Girls at Parties

originally published on Cineuropa

The idea of aliens meeting punk-rock teenagers in 1977 Croydon, London, seems outlandish, but it is actually the subject of Neil Gaiman’s short story adapted for the screen by Philippa Goslett and John Cameron Mitchell, who is also the director. How to Talk to Girls at Parties, shown in the Sitges International Fantastic Film Festival’s New Visions One programme, crams a lot of ideas, tropes and genres into the mix. Basically, it is a coming-of-age romantic comedy, science-fiction fish-out-of-water comedy, and a kind of musical period piece dealing with the subjects of young love and conformity versus individuality. All of that blended together should not theoretically work that well, but somehow it does just enough to make it a pleasurable film experience with the potential for a cult following in the future.

Our protagonist, Enn (young Broadway actor Alex Sharp in his first screen role), spends his days editing a fanzine and hanging out with his two friends Vic (AJ Lewis) and John (Ethan Lawrence). After a gig they attend in the den of punk queen Boadicea (Nicole Kidman) goes awry, they get lost on their way to an after-party, ending up in a house inhabited by a crew of aliens with human masks who are on a research mission. It is here that Enn meets Zen (Elle Fanning), a curious girl who wants to get away from the party and do some surveying on her own. Since she is attracted to Enn, she is about to learn a great deal about punk music, culture and attitude. And so the adventure begins!

How to Talk to Girls at Parties works so well in its sheer ridiculousness mainly because of its fast pacing with a lot of snappy dialogues, and the sense for period details laced with campy aesthetics. Plus, it also features some of the funniest jokes this year, such as Zen’s first kiss with someone always being followed by vomiting, aliens dressed in Union Jack raincoats, like stereotypical naive tourists, and punk teens assuming that the alien crew is a Californian cult. A lot of attention has been paid to details such as recreating Gaiman’s detailed alien class system and society structure, which has been achieved by means of colour-coding and superb animation sequences. The whole lore is incorporated efficiently into the script, making the rhythm smooth. The casting of the leads is also spot-on: Sharp is compelling as a young punk enthusiast, while the role of a curious alien suits Fanning perfectly.

However, not all of the aspects of the film are so successful. Kidman overacts her role of a punk elder, mistaking it for campy charm and letting her accent drift from Cockney to Aussie and back again. In addition, the whole punk scene remains superficial for the duration of the running time, reducing the movement to several worn-out clichés and name-dropping of bands and artists, which is strange, given that John Cameron Mitchell is the filmmaker behind one of the most iconic punk movies of all time, Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Finally, the tonal shift in the third act from pure fun to something more serious seems fairly abrupt but is also somewhat predictable in accordance with the template of an aliens-studying-Earth comedy. None of this weighs down the film too much, however, and How to Talk to Girls at Parties brings just enough heart-warming fun to its viewers.