Method Directing

 

Serial killer mockumentaries have become a common subgenre in recent years, though so many run the risk of having the same ending: if you're playing it straight, doesn't the star subject HAVE to eventually slaughter the camera crew? 

Gillian Wallace Horvat's I Blame Society finds a pretty great way to skirt that issue: our multi-talented killer happens to also (wo)man the camera. Everybody wins!

Quick Plot: Gillian is a struggling filmmaker looking for some validation and stuck on the best compliment she's ever received: that she would make a great murderer. She begins a documentary exploring how she could execute the perfect crime on the perfect victim (the shallow and cruel girlfriend of her pal Chase) before pissing off enough people that she abandons the project. 

Three years later, Gillian is having an even harder time trying to make it in the industry. Sure, there are token opportunities for "people like her" but they're still at the mercy of dude bros who toss around words like "intersectionality" and "inclusivity" just for the sake of meeting quotas. 

So what's an ambitious but aimless professional to do but the one thing she hasn't tried? Gillian goes for it.

I Blame Society is an incredibly funny little black comedy of a horror movie. Sure, it calls to mind Man Bites Dog and a few similar stories, but writer/director/star Gillian Wallace Horvat is so clear-headed in her offbeat tone that it ends up feeling entirely fresh. Her targets are clear, and her humor is poisonous (literally).

High Points

The entire execution of Gillian's first (possibly accidental) murder is so perfectly crafted in how ridiculously it unfolds that it helps to set the rest of the film's tone down the perfectly offbeat path

Low Points

Yes, Gillian is ultimately a terrible person, so if you're the kind of film fan bothered by that, be warned

Lessons Learned

NBC's Hannibal did a lot of things right, but apparently, depicting murder realistically was not one of them

If people threw computers out the window all the time, we'd be tripping on laptops every day

To be in "New York shape" means you have brown hair and probably smoke

Rent/Bury/Buy

I Blame Society is millennial self-aware horror at its best. Have a go of it on Shudder (I've been saying that a lot lately, haven't I?).

Man Bites the Big Apple

Low budget indie horror movies streaming on Netflix Instant can sometimes prove less enjoyable than a dentist appointment or smelly ride on a crowded 1 train. Try as I might though to battle my undying sense of optimism, I continue to browse its selections with the sunny hopefulness of a big-haired orphan on the lap of FDR.

And just like Annie's trust fund, today, I am rewarded.

Quick Plot: Malcolm is a young British-American who has spent the last fifteen years bemoaning New York City's Lower East Side loss of its punk edge to the cleaner plague of gentrification. Of course, being in his late 20s/early 30s, Malcolm never actually experienced this glorified pre-Guiliani period, but if Rent has taught us anything, it's that self-proclaimed bohemian artists are equally obnoxious as the skinny jean-wearing hipsters that have replaced them.

Alas, the grass is always greener through misplaced nostalgia, so Malcolm enlists the help of two documentary filmmakers to chronicle his mission of bringing Manhattan back to its graffiti-covered twentieth century past. In order to do this, Malcolm embarks on nightly murder sprees where he takes out any New Yorker he deems as representative of the new wave (not to be confused with the French New Wave, which of course, Malcolm and his clique of cinema-loving pals adore).

Though dedicated to filmmaker Samuel Fuller, Random Acts of Violence is most indebted to the 1992 Belgian film Man Bites Dog. Like Remy Belvaux’s tale, Random Acts of Violence is filmed as a narcissistic documentary and lorded over by self-righteous sociopath who bears no guilt over brutally murdering innocent bystanders by the dozen. Where Benoit Poelvoorde had a little charm, however, Ashley Cahill's Malcolm is never presented as being anything but a pathetic brat.

Therein lies the true cleverness of Random Acts of Violence. Cahill writes, directs, and stars with the vital understanding that Malcolm is nowhere near being a hero, nor anywhere close to being right. Sure, it's funny to be annoyed at a homeless man spurning free pizza because its meat topping offends his vegetarian sensibilities, but for all of Malcolm's rhetoric, he's as much a part of the system as his friends who sport modern haircuts and Godard t-shirts. His revolution begins by spreading the threat that anyone can be harmed by the atmosphere of the city, yet as soon as someone he actually cares about gets hurt by a titular random act of violence, Malcolm refuses to hear the tenets of what he has been preaching. He's a hypocrite, plain and simple, but also a violent, petty, petulant man with a trigger happy finger.

I have a feeling some viewers will watch Random Acts of Violence and complain about the unlikability of the characters or insult it as a self-important indie flick. Some may even see Malcolm as a hero with grand and justified ambitions in his quest to give New York a wakeup call. Because the film doesn't tip its hand, it is very possible that many a filmgoer--and horror fan with torture porny expectations--may not quite realize that Cahill's Malcolm is an intentionally pathetic little man. Nowhere is this more obvious than in a brilliantly utilized Kirsten Dunst cameo.

Yes, I just used the term 'brilliantly utilized Kirsten Dunst cameo' with a somewhat straight face.

Browsing the web for other information on Random Acts of Violence (also found under the titles Charm and Malcolm), I'm mostly finding angry reviews that see the film as a lame hipster horror movie. That's disappointing, but inevitable. As Starship Troopers long ago proved, good satire will occasionally be viewed as a crumby version of what it's satirizing. Opinions are subjective so for all I know, Cahill did indeed intend this to be a valentine to grimy Basket Case-era NYC and a treatise on bringing the edge back downtown. I fear for those viewers who take that moral away from the film, as I see a far more entertaining tongue-in-cheek black comedy about just how silly those negative idealists are when they idolize a world they never experienced. The Truffaut worshiping artist who rails against the modern celebrity will often be the same man humbled into submission when an A-list actress shares his elevator space. The horror in Random Acts of Violence isn't in the potential rebirth of a dangerous metropolis, but in the laughable hubris of an entitled fool.

And just look at that scarf!

High Points

For a movie all about gratuitous violence, it's refreshing that Random Acts of Violence ironically does not revel in its, you know, random acts of violence. Yes, the actual murders are abhorrent and immoral, but the film doesn't linger on anything we don't need to see. It's the act itself that is horrible enough

Credit really must go to one-man-movie band Ashley Cahill who as far as I know, probably also made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the production team. His performance as Malcolm is so perfectly obnoxious without being showy, while the film's quick flow is certainly thanks to his work behind the camera

Low Points

As someone who appreciates but doesn't love Man Bites Dog, I love how Random Acts of Violence plays off its structure but I don't love that for whatever reason, Cahill never seems to acknowledge it as (obvious) inspiration

Lessons Learned 

When trying to enter a stranger's home and they ask who's knocking, always say "Me!" with authority. Works like a charm

A German sense of humor is no laughing matter

Never underestimate the languidness of a comfortable pleb (and I suppose, while you’re at it, never get involved in a land war in Asia?)

Rent/Bury/Buy

At just 86 minutes, Random Acts of Violence is smart in getting in and out without wasting too much time. The film is streaming on Netflix and is, in my opinion, genuinely worth a watch. Fans of Man Bites Dog might see it as a little derivative, but Cahill manages to take that same concept and make it very much his own and perhaps even more interestingly, very much New York. 

Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!

A recent viewing of 1995’s Rumplestilskin gave me 90 minutes of awful fairy tale jokes, muted kills, and a medieval troll with a Bronx accent battling out a future heroine on NBC’s Passions. How surprised would you be if I told you the filmmakers were also responsible for another early 90s little person horror, the one and only pogo stick stabbing Leprechaun?  And how disappointed am I that Warwick Davis’ feisty Irishman does not even stop by for a Hitchcockian cameo? 

I don’t doubt that the director of Rumpelestilskin had that sleeper of a Jennifer Anniston hit on his mind the entire filming process and banked on a multi-film franchise wherein the baby-eating Rumpy and the shoe cleaning redhead team up for a wacky road adventure where hijinks ensue and puns are abused. More likely, there’s a script somewhere buried in a studio basement chronicling a Freddy Vs. Jason-like battle set in the petite section of a department store. For good reason, this didn’t happen, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t inspire me to imagine a few more notable showdowns of horror I’d like to see. 

Place your bets and sound the bells:

1.Let the Right One In‘s Eli vs. Anne Rice’s Claudia

My team: Eli

Vegas favorite: Claudia

Kirsten Dunst’s curly haired bloodsucker may seem a little too prissy to best Sweden’s latest vampire queen, but the future Mary Jane Watson had plenty of bite when it came to attacks. The fascinating Eli, on the other hand, has a slightly larger conscience that could potentially lead to some weaknesses in hand-to-hand combat. Plus, she doesn’t seem to enjoy the kill, shifting the work to her handler whenever possible, whereas the eternally young and better-dressed Claudia hunts everyone from little boys to chubby samaritans with equal relish. Should the fight become a tag-team match, however, Eli may squeak by with the help of the devoted and slightly sociopathic Oskar. Claudia is saddled with two pretty boys who are far too easily distracted by a smoldering Antonio Banderas and/or ruffled sleeves. Know the setup before putting down your cash.

2. Norman Bates vs. Leatherface vs. Buffalo Bill

My team: Leatherface

Vegas favorite: Leatherface

Ed Gein did some truly terrible things in his life, including inspiring Hannibal, the Renee Zellwegger/Matthew McConaughey starring TCM installment, and Gus Van Sant’s Psycho . We’ll overlook a few reprehensible sequels and get to the meat of a few classic villains, then throw them all in a mud pit and aim a tranquilizer gun at the winner...who is undoubtedly from Texas. Buffalo Bill has the best style and Norman Bates gets the sentimental vote, but really, how can a poodle-petting tailor and a mild-mannered mama’s boy even come close to competing with the best (and best equipped) butcher in the south?

3.Leslie Vernon vs. Man Bites Dog’s Benoit

My team: Leslie Vernon

Vegas favorite: Leslie Vernon

When these two murdering media whores butt heads, the results could easily be the best reality show of all time. But unless we’re talking Survivor All Stars , there can only be one winner. Benoit is a bit more of a utility serial killer, with methods ranging from full body gutting to inspiring fatal heart attacks in the elderly. Vernon edges out the Belgian sociopath with overall endurance and athletic ability, plus years of intense training that should hold up in any fight with a cigarette smoking pianist. At the same time, Benoit does have one major advantage over the charismatic Vernon: a revolver and good aim. Then again, when was the last time a gunshot put (and kept) a good slasher down? 

4. Ragers of 28 Days Later vs. Romero’s Traditional Undead

My team: Shamblers

Vegas favorite: Shamblers

Sure, those steroid-high sprinters would take an early lead in establishing world domination, but like Leslie Vernon, Shamblers don’t die easily. As Danny Boyle taught us and countless horror nerds have preached, infected humans are ultimately mere mortals restricted to the same biological life limitations as you or me. Give them a few months and they will starve. True zombies, however, are the cockroaches of the apocalyptic future. I’m not going to get into the biology of what happens if a Rager spits blood in a Shambler’s eye or if a slow-moving ghoul takes a bite out of an angry plague victim because it doesn’t matter. Somewhere in the world I don’t ever want to live in (okay, not true at all), there is a locked car or jammed closet door housing a Savini made corpse with one thing on its mind. And when the last of those infected breath their last rabid breath, the dead will shamble on. To eat them.

5.The Firefly Clan vs. Spider Baby ’s Merrye Family

My team: Merryes

Vegas favorite: Fireflies

I'm actually not unsure that Jack Hill’s Merrye clan--which included a young, rabid, and and skinny Sid Haig without hair--aren’t ancestral relations to Rob Zombie’s psychotic Devil’s Rejects--which, whatdya know, includes an older, rabid-ish, and not skinny Sid Haig...still without hair. The Merryes are twisted and murderous, but also entertaining and a total blast to hang out with. The Fireflies are sadistic and annoying, although they do know how to party. Sadly I don’t see beloved little Virginia, Ralph, and Elizabeth successfully fighting off the knife-and-gun wielding Baby and Otis, although Lon Chaney’s adoptive patriarch could probably take a nice bite out of Haig’s fatherly clown. 

6. Death, Final Destination, vs. Death, The Seventh Seal

My team: FFD

Vegas favorite: SSD

Though we never actually meet him or her, Final Destination’s embodiment of Death (herein known as Fred) comes off an awful lot like a Bond villain. It has a very important job in disposing of a few attractive characters, but Fred seems to find the task impossible to do without pomp and circumstance (I’m expecting a shark tank to make an appearance in the upcoming installment). In contrast, Igmar Bergman’s personification of the big D (let’s call him Sal) set the standard for fifty plus years of pop culture references (the high point being William Sadler’s take in Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey) by making a tall goth dude with an uncanny skill at chess. I couldn’t really hazard a guess as to Fred’s ability with pawns, but I’m sure he could think up a neat and painful way to use that pointy little cross atop the bishop piece. Of course, by the time’s he’s done that, Sal has already taken the queen and cornered the king. Checkmate.

7. Inside‘sLa Femme vs. Pamela Voorhees

My team: La Femme

Vegas favorite: Mama V

I’m calling this fight on sheer numbers. Yes, Beatrice Dalle’s baby-craving home invader is hardcore and creative, but Mrs. Voorhees axed into an entire summer camp staff AND managed to inspire a 12 film and growing franchise that defined (for better and much much worse) the 1980s. With that kind of cred, I can’t imagine Betsy Palmer losing her head over a former model wielding home scissors.

8.High Tension’s Marie vs. Martyrs’s Lucie

My team: Lucie

Vegas favorite: Marie

I declare such a matchup immediately forfeit, as Marie’s very character defies any logic. Sure, I could say that the pixie-cut Frenchwoman has proven herself a worthy successor to a camp-hating hockey fan and a William Shatner faced Illinoisian, but that would mean accepting that everything that happens in High Tension makes any sense. Which it doesn’t. So. Call the fight before it starts and give poor Lucie something to smile about. After all, the poor dear’s been through quite a lot.

9. Damien vs. the entire underage population of Village of the Damned vs. Pet Semetary’s Gage vs. Rhoda Penmark vs. The Brood vs. the triple threat of Bloody Birthday , and any other juvenile horror villain:

Toss ‘em all in a deep deep ball pit and let them sort it out. The results may be too chaotic to call, but I imagine the last two standing to be Bloody Birthday’s villainess and the overachieving Bad Seed herself. And if that fight doesn’t scare you from ever having--or looking at--children, then you, my fierce friend, are the toughest competitor of all.