Revisiting the Gates of Hell Trilogy

Lucio Fulci, a name that is unknown to some, but one that is more than familiar to fans of the horror genre. While he has directed a variety of films spanning a number of genres, Fulci is undoubtedly most well known for his numerous horror films that have earned him the title of the Italian godfather of gore. Now I'm a huge fan of Italian horror cinema, and to me Fulci is one of the greats, right up there with the likes of Dario Argento and Mario Bava. While many of his films gained criticism upon their initial release, in the years since his passing there has been a newfound appreciation for Fulci and his works, and he is now considered to be one of horror cinema's most influential filmmakers. I mean he even got a mention on an episode of Fair City for god's sake, that's how you know you've made it. Tonight I'll be looking at what many consider Fulci's finest works, his crowning achievement, the Gates of Hell trilogy. While Fucli did refer to these three films as a 'trilogy' their stories are in no way connected, instead they are connect thematically, each focusing on the interaction between the lands of the living and the dead. The films have their fair share of critics, understandably, but I'm not here to criticise, I'm here to discuss why these films are so bloody good. It all began in 1980, when City of the Living Dead was released...

City of the Living Dead (1980)

I've often found this films title to be a bit misleading, not only does the film take place in a town rather than a city, but the eponymous living dead don't even show up until the final act. Furthermore, one could also be mistaken to believe that it's an unofficial follow up to one of George Romero's Living Dead films, if you're looking for that then try Zombi 2. Misleading titles aside, City of the Living Dead is a rollercoaster ride of suspense and gore, and a film that perfectly embodies Fulci's distinct filmmaking style. Set in the town of Dunwich (in a nod to H.P. Lovecraft), the film follows a young woman and a journalist (Catriona MacColl & Christopher George) who race against time to stop the gates of hell from opening after a priest commits suicide. Now I have no idea why a priest killing himself would cause the gates of hell to open, but when watching a Fulci film one must remind oneself to not think too much about plot details. Instead, attention must be paid to atmosphere and the use of practical effects, the latter particularly shining through in this installment.

Now Lucio Fulci didn't just earn the title 'godfather of gore' for no reason, the man has a talent for blood and guts. Any doubts about Fulci's keen eye for gore can be put to rest after City, specifically after the infamous car scene. The scene occurs fairly early in the film and opens on a young couple kissing inside a car, always a good decision in a horror film. So what happens next? Are they attacked by a masked killer? Does one of the 'living dead' get to them first? Not even close. The couple soon find themselves at the hands of the spirit of Father Thomas (Fabrizio Jovine), the priest from the beginning, who uses his evil eyes to wreak havoc on them. The young girl soon begins to bleed from her eyes and foam at the mouth, all before she spews up her innards in one of horror cinemas most disgusting scenes. It's a tough moment to watch, Fulci drags out the scene and relishes in every gory detail, putting great emphasis on the realistic looking organs pouring from this poor woman's mouth. While it is heavy on the gore, Fulci also puts an equal amount of effort into the atmosphere as well. Combining quick cuts between the gruesome imagery and shots of Father Thomas' sinister gaze with the fantastic score from Fabio Frizzi, Fulci manages to craft this constant sense of dread and hopelessness to balance out the gore. In doing this, not only does Fulci make us feel ill with the disturbing imagery, but he also creeps under our skin to provide some more psychological shocks as well. 

Fulci's talent for gore is matched only by his skill at creating ambiance, something that I will expand upon in when discussing the other two installments. Which takes me to the second film of the Gates of Hell trilogy, The Beyond...

The Beyond (1981)

Often considered the best of the trilogy, The Beyond follows a young woman (Catriona MacColl, again) who plans to re-open an old hotel in New Orleans that, unbeknownst to her, is built over a portal to the underworld. It's a similar set up to its predecessor, changing the setting from Dunwich to New Orleans while keeping Catriona MacColl, yet The Beyond manages to exceed City in every possible way. While Fulci retains the same level of explicit gore from City, this film relies much more on atmosphere and Fulci really turns the suspense up to 11 here with help from composer Fabio Frizzi. Along with that, the film is by far the most aesthetically pleasing of the trilogy, with gorgeous cinematography and a memorable production design. As for the plot, well it's batshit crazy. From blind psychics, to zombies, to acid blood (?), there are a lot of things in The Beyond that don't add up, moments that feel out of place and incidents that are never resolved. However, these oddities somehow manage to contribute to the overall atmosphere, providing this sense of surrealism that fits in nicely with the themes of supernatural and 'the other side'. Whether this was intentional or simply lazy writing is unclear, but who cares, the final product is a surrealistic nightmare that will haunt you until the day you die.

Of course, I couldn't talk about a Fulci film without discussing the gore, and oh boy does The Beyond have its fair share of it. Eye plucking, throat ripping, this film has it all, but the most memorable moment is by far the infamous spider scene. The scene takes place in a library where Martin (Michele Mirabella), a friend of MacColl's character Liza, investigates the blueprints of the Seven Doors Hotel. Suddenly, he is struck by a mysterious force, causing him to fall from a ladder onto the ground where he is devoured by tarantulas. Now Fulci could have easily made this scene much shorter by having the spiders quickly scuttle over Martin, biting him a few times, then disappearing. Nope, like the aforementioned scene from City, the spider scene is prolonged so that Fulci can really emphasise the graphic violence involved in it. The tarantulas slowly creep toward Martins motionless body, allowing for tension to build before we get to the gory stuff. We then see close ups of the arachnids literally tearing the flesh from Martins body with their fangs, one particular shot of a spider tearing away his bottom lip really made me squirm. Fulci really pays attention to detail here, emphasising every wound inflicted on poor aul Martin and how it was done, as if I needed any more reason to fear tarantulas. Throughout the scene it feels as though there is this supernatural presence pulling the strings, throwing Martin from the ladder and possessing the spiders in a sense. This is a recurring theme throughout and is present in the majority of the death scenes in The Beyond, contributing to that sense of surrealism I mentioned earlier. It's almost as though the protagonists are being picked off one by one, by some paranormal entity. It's this underlying presence of the supernatural that makes the film all the more unsettling and is a major contribution to the spine-chilling atmosphere throughout.

The Beyond is a gruesome and disturbing film that feels like it was pulled out of one of Lucio Fulci's darkest nightmares. Here, he focuses much more on ambiance and creating that eerie atmosphere that makes the film so unsettling. At the same time, Fulci pours an equal amount of effort into visually scarring us for life. The Beyond is often considered Fulci's magnum opus, but there is still one more film to discuss...

The House by the Cemetery (1981)

Now many consider this to be the worst film to the trilogy, the plot is all over the place, the dubbing is awful, and the ending doesn't make much sense. However, The House by the Cemetery is one of my favourite Fulci films and left me feeling scared out of my wits when I first watched it. This one doesn't focus on some gate to hell, despite being part of the trilogy, but instead follows the Boyle family and their struggles with the mysterious forces that plague their new house..by the cemetery. Catriona MacColl is back yet again as Lucy Boyle, while Paolo Malco plays her husband Norman who is drawn to the mysterious house after his former colleague was murdered there. However, most of the film focuses on their son Bob (Giovanni Frezza), who befriends a mysterious ghost girl who warns him of the dangers lying within his new home. Now first of all, why would anyone call their child Bob? Secondly, why did Fulci decide to dub him over with such a painfully annoying voice. That's the one thing I dislike about this film, forget the plot holes, Bob is a pain in the arse. 

Moving on from Bob, I want to talk about what made this film so unsettling for me. First of all, credit is due to composer Walter Rizzati, who brings this much more ominous score to the table in comparison to those by Fabio Frizzi. There is a lot more use of piano, giving it a more melancholic sound that suits the tone of the film and aids in creating its unnerving atmosphere. Speaking of atmosphere, oh boy, this film is oozing with it. I feel like this may be the most ambient film of the trilogy due to the score and Fulci's masterful direction, every moment is chilling. One particular moment that stuck with me, despite not being explicitly terrifying, was the mannequin scene. We linger on this very realistic looking mannequin in a shop window with a piercing gaze, it constantly looks as though its about to spring to life and break through the glass. Instead, its head falls to the floor, continuing to stare off into the distance and leaving a bloody stump at the top of its neck. This scene freaked me out, not because of the blood, but because of the mannequin. It just looks so real as though its staring right at you, and while it doesn't exactly do anything, the fact that it doesn't makes the scene all the more unsettling. It's later revealed that the mannequin is actually identical to the families new babysitter, but that's a whole other confusing subplot that I won't get too into.

It was at this moment when we really get a taste of HBTC's sense of ambiance, it's a lot stronger than it's predecessors but manifests itself in subtle ways, making it clear that Fulci has really mastered the horror genre. The film also contains some of the most suspenseful moments of Fulci's filmmaking career, from the scene where Bob attempts to flee from the basement, to the scene where the real estate agent is brutally murdered, this is edge-of-your-seat tension right here. While I would love to go on about those particular scenes, I feel like I've spoken enough about Fulci and his skills at bringing gore to life, so I'll leave it there for tonight. I could go on forever about each little detail in the Gates of Hell trilogy and Fulci's talent for the craft, but I think I've written enough for tonight. Sure, Fulci may not be the best at crafting a coherent story, but he's a damn fine director and his talents behind the camera are incomparable. Now go, go and watch some Fulci films, sit back, relax, and brace yourselves..

'Get Out' Review

From Night of the Living Dead to The People Under the Stairs, race has been a popular theme in horror cinema for many years now. What makes that fear of racial violence and discrimination more terrifying than zombies or witches is the fact that it's real, and still very relevant in today's society. In his directorial debut, Get Out, comedian Jordan Peele uses this idea of racial fear in a way that we haven't quite seen before. The film revolves around a young African American photographer named Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) and his caucasian girlfriend Rose (Allison Williams) as they visit her parents' mysterious estate. Upon arriving, Chris can't help but feel as though something sinister is afoot, and it's not long before his suspicions prove to be all too real. Peele uses this idea of racial fear and displays it from the perspective of a young black man surrounded by white people, what results is a thrilling tale of isolation and paranoia that will keep you captivated right until the cathartic ending.

Leading man Daniel Kaluuya (Sicario, Black Mirror) gives a harrowing performance as Chris, a photographer who takes a trip with his girlfriend to visit her family. Kaluuya really conveys that sense of paranoia felt by Chris, being the only black man surrounded by white people, he brings to life that real fear of racial discrimination and isolation. He is a sympathetic character who we desperately root for right up until the bloody end. Allison Williams (Girls) plays his girlfriend Rose and shares an excellent onscreen chemistry with Kaluuya, she particularly shines in the third act when the tension really starts to build. Bradley Whitford (The Cabin in the Woods) plays Allison's dad in a charming, yet subtly sinister performance, while Catherine Keener (Into the Wild) plays her mother, who I found to be the films most terrifying character. The real standout performance for me, however, was stand up comedian Lil Rey Howery as Chris' friend Rod. Rod acts as the films comic relief and his scenes had me in fits of laughter, it's in his dialogue where we are reminded of Peele's talent for comedy. He provides a nice balance to the horrific events unfolding elsewhere in the film.

Of course, we almost forget that Peele is a comedian due to his excellent knowledge of crafting a good horror film. He doesn't rely on cheap jump scares or excessive gore, but instead, that sense of detachment felt by the protagonist throughout. Despite how welcoming Roses family are to Chris, there is still this constant feeling that he is on his own, as though there is some inside joke and he is the only one who doesn't get it. As the events start to become even more bizarre, the sense of isolation and the feeling of paranoia felt by Chris start to become even stronger, making the final punch line much more effective. I found the final payoff incredibly disturbing, after spending the whole film watching this mystery unravel and constantly guessing the motives of the antagonists, it soon became clear that things were much worse than I had predicted. That's another thing that made Get Out so encapsulating, unpredictability. The antagonists are not rednecks or skinheads, they're white, middle-class liberals who show no evident signs of racist tendencies. It is because of this that we are never quite sure of their motives until they are finally revealed in the third act when things really start to get weird.

For a first time director, Peele already displays a fine knowledge of the craft and how to build an effective horror film. This becomes clear in the opening scene when he utilises a tracking shot to create an incredibly chilling moment, assuring us that the film we are about to watch is something special. Peele knows how to create good jump scares, but doesn't use them excessively like a lot of modern horror filmmakers tend to do. Instead he limits the explicit shocks and opts for more subtle ones, relying moreso on the atmosphere to bring to life this consistent feeling of dread throughout. Peeles directorial talents are matched only by his writing abilities, generating this excellent script that balances horror and comedy, and holds a number of twists and turns lying in wait for the viewer. One aspect that really stuck with me however was the chilling score composed by Michael Abels. As well as contributing to the overall atmosphere, it feels as though it is rooted in black culture, sticking with the prevalent themes of race within the film. This, I believe, was Peele's intention in the first place.

Get Out is a chilling debut from director Jordan Peele that displays his excellent talent for the craft and knowledge of the horror genres technicalities. Peele creates this enthralling tale of seclusion and paranoia that highlights some of the real fears that African Americans face in regards to race. The whole film feels grounded, it feels relevant, and that sense of realism is what makes Get Out all the more terrifying. Packed with wonderful performances, a fantastic script, and tension that you could cut with a butter knife, Jordan Peele's directorial debut displays that the man has a talent for the horror genre that is on par with his talent for comedy. It has left me feeling incredibly excited for whatever he plans to do next.

The Greatest Opening Credits in Cinema

The primary function of opening credits is to introduce some of the cast and crew members involved with bringing a film to life. They are usually more condensed versions of the closing credits, highlighting some of the films major players both in front of, and behind the camera. However, opening credit sequences are often used for other things such as setting the films tone or even contributing to the overall plot as well. Due to this, many opening sequences are just as memorable as the overall film itself and play a role in setting up the story or the atmosphere. When used properly, opening credits can be extremely effective and can stick with the viewers for just as long as the whole film itself. The following is a list of my personal favourite opening credit sequences in cinema, ranging over a number of decades and a number of genres. To me these sequences are just as important to the film as any of the scenes that follow, and since their respective releases they have become nothing short of iconic. Now, before anyone says anything, I did not include the screen crawl from Star Wars as it doesn't actually credit anyone, needless to say I still love the screen crawl regardless.

10. Psycho (1960)

Alfred Hitchcock's gripping slasher film may be over 50 years old, but it still holds up today thanks to its incredible sense of tension that only Hitchcock could pull off. From the second the opening credits start rolling, we are thrown into the deep end as Bernard Herrmann's panic inducing score kicks off. The string-heavy number that appears a number of times throughout the film is what sets the initial tone, giving us this feeling of dread that gradually overcomes us until the music finally plays out. Along with this, we also have these visuals of lines cutting back and forth across the screen, almost like a knife. It is fast paced and intense, giving us a taste of what exactly we're getting ourselves into, it certainly gave me goosebumps and the film hadn't even started yet. Experience Psycho's chilling opening credits here.

9. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly (1966)

Perhaps one of cinema's most iconic theme songs plays through the opening credits of Sergio Leone's acclaimed Spaghetti Western. Opening with a white screen, the frame then begins to fill up with bloody gunshot wounds where men on horseback begin to materialise. We then flash through a number of multicoloured images that establish the main three cast members: Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef, and Eli Wallach, before quickly flashing through more images. The most memorable aspect of this sequence however, is the fantastic theme song composed by Ennio Morricone that gradually builds up throughout. The movement of imagery moves along with this music, ultimately culminating in a crescendo of sound and colour as explosive as the iconic bridge scene. The sequence manages to establish that fast-paced atmosphere and gritty aesthetic that have contributed to making the film so unique. Along with this, it introduced the world to that amazing theme by Ennio Morricone that has been used in numerous mediums ever since. Witness that brilliant opening sequence here.

8. Alien (1979)

Another horror film but a drastically different opening sequence, Alien begins with much more subtle and atmospheric opening credits. We open on this dark image of space with stars twinkling off in the distance, gradually panning across to give us an idea of the sheer vastness of the cosmos. Keeping in line with the slow-paced imagery, the score is also subtle and slow, for the first time we are experiencing that profound sense of isolation and loneliness found in space. As we continue to pan, white shapes begin to materialise onscreen, gradually becoming letters which eventually come together to reveal the films title: Alien. As the credits begin to come to a close, the score begins to sound a bit more sinister and we are then cast off into the film itself. The purpose of this is to really convey that sense of isolation felt by the crew members of the Nostromo in the film itself. It establishes the cold, detached feeling that is ever present throughout the film and acts as a calm before the storm that is Alien. Feast your eyes on that opening sequence here.

7. Nosferatu The Vampyre (1979)

Another horror from 1979, Werner Herzog's Nosferatu The Vampyre was part remake, part adaptation that has since become renowned for its atmosphere and aesthetics. There is this consistently unsettling atmosphere throughout the film that is introduced during the opening credits. The sequence is made up of a number of images of mummified corpses with ghastly expressions on their faces. They are disturbing to look at and the lingering images of them create this sense of uneasiness that becomes almost unbearable at times. The sequence is set to a ghoulish piece of music that establishes the uniquely gothic tone of the film as well as the unsettling atmosphere. There are times when it feels as though these mummified corpses are about to spring to life and frighten the audience, but it's the fact that they don't, the fact that we are left in suspense, that makes the sequence all the more effective. Watch that sequence here if you dare..

6. Reservoir Dogs (1992)

Ah Reservoir Dogs, the film that introduced the world to the mind of Quentin Tarantino. The American director has since established his own unique style that is present in all of his films, but I feel like this sequence is the first taste we got of this style. It's a simple enough scene that consists of the films characters walking down a side street while the credits play out, however, Tarantino's execution of the scene is what makes it so memorable. The slow motion, the costumes, the use of The George Baker Selection's 'Litte Green Bag', there is just something about this scene that oozes style. These men are careless, confident and cool, and the imagery of them walking to the sound of this music embodies these sentiments perfectly. It establishes Tarantino's unique sense of style that he carries on throughout his filmography, a sense of style that made Reservoir Dogs so iconic and what essentially kick started his career. You can watch that scene here.

5. Taxi Driver (1976)

Picture the scene: steam rises from the street, encapsulating the frame in a cloud of white before being broken through by a yellow taxi cab. The cab leaves behind it another cloud of steam, along with the films title, Taxi Driver. It is here where we begin to enter the word of Travis Bickle, we cut between images of his eyes and images of what he sees. Streets littered with neon signs, crowds of people commuting across the city, heavy rain pouring down the windscreen, this is his life, his world, and the opening credits act as the gateway into this world. The sequence also sets the films overall tone, accompanied by that jazzy score by Bernard Herrmann that you will hum for days after watching the film. It is the perfect introduction to the world of Scorsese's film, immersing us in its atmosphere and letting us into the mind of Travis Bickle, the eponymous taxi driver. You can watch that captivating sequence here.

4. The Shining (1980)

Regardless of how much it strays away from its source material, as a horror film, The Shining excels in all aspects. Due to the articulate direction of Stanley Kubrick, there is this haunting atmosphere present in the film that manifests itself in the isolation and paranoia of the Torrance family. We first experience this atmosphere in the opening title sequence as we pan across this massive mountainous landscape, following a small yellow car driving through it. As we follow the vehicle, there is this sinister piece of music playing that greatly contributes to that haunting feeling that follows throughout. From where the audience is, the car is a mere isolated speck that is far from any sort of civilisation, until of course, we reach the Overlook Hotel. Isolation and paranoia are two of the main themes in Kubrick's adaptation of The Shining and in the opening sequence we get a taste of each. Watch the spine tingling opening credits to The Shining here.

3. Watchmen (2009)

Alan Moore's award winning graphic novel Watchmen is a tale of epic proportions, with a number of subplots and backstories on top of the already complex main story. Adapting it to the big screen was never going to be easy, but Zack Snyder's 2009 film did a pretty good job of covering most of the material. The majority of the backstory was condensed into this 5 minute opening sequence that briefly explores the history of these masked vigilantes over the years. Set to the tune of Bob Dylan's 'The Times They Are A-Changing', we watch as the times literally do change and how these vigilantes changed the course of history forever. It is a sombre sequence of sorts, watching this team of heroes' downward spiral over the years and how the world has changed because of them. While it doesn't allow for an in depth exploration of the history of the Watchmen, it gives us a glimpse of how they transformed over the years and how the films events came to be. Sit back, relax, and enjoy that wonderful sequence here.

2. Goldfinger (1964)

To be honest, any James Bond film could have fit in here but I have a personal preference towards Goldfinger. I feel like a lot of the Bond films blend into one another, some being quite forgettable, but Goldfinger always stood out to me and that's partially due to its impressive opening credits sequence. Set against a black screen, we see images of a gold-painted woman appear onscreen, with scenes from the film projected onto her. It's simple, yet effective and introduces that golden imagery prevalent in the film, the black and gold colour scheme mixed with clever editing creates this psychedelic sequence, set to the tune of the iconic theme song by Shirley Bassey that foreshadow's the films antagonist. It's one of the more memorable opening Bond sequences from one of the greatest Bond films of any era, and you can watch it right here.

1. Se7en (1996)

The film that transformed David Fincher from 'oh, that Alien 3 guy' to one of the greatest directors in contemporary cinema, Seven is a chilling neo-noir that takes a journey into the darkest corners of the human mind. It's a gloomy, nihilistic film that set the standard for every Fincher flick since, and this dark tone was perfectly embodied in its opening credits. Set in what is presumably the killer's lair, the title sequence shows the enigmatic John Doe put together some twisted scrap book consisting of religious verses and disturbing imagery. One of the most grizzly moments comes when the killer is seen peeling off his fingertips with a razor blade, it's imagery like this that sets that pitch black tone for the events that will follow. To top it all off, the sequence is set to the chilling sound of Nine Inch Nails, further contributing to the unsettling atmosphere of the film. Dark, grimy, and disturbing, Se7en's opening titles are incredibly effective at setting the films tone and introducing us to Fincher's world of gloom and doom. You can take a look at that sequence here.

So those are my favourite opening credits in cinema, to me, they have as much of an impact on the film as the direction and even the acting. It shows that, if done right, a title sequence can be incredibly effective. 

Remakes Done Right- 'The Ring'

Hello and welcome to the fifth and final installment of my 'Remakes Done Right' series. For the past few weeks I've been looking at some of the finest remakes in horror cinema, from Nosferatu the Vampyre, to Evil Dead, to The Fly and last weeks The Thing, it's safe to say that each film was quite different from the last. However, one thing I have not yet touched upon is a remake of a foreign language film. These types of remakes are generally made for people who are too lazy to read subtitles, and the majority of the time they are basically just a mere re-hash of the original. However, there are some remakes of foreign language films that dare to be different, that stick close enough to the original but retain their own unique qualities to set the two apart. In tonight's post I will be looking at The Ring, Gore Verbinski's American remake of Hideo Nakata's original film Ringu which is based off the book of the same name by Koji Suzuki. Now The Ring is not a perfect remake, especially in comparison to the likes of The Fly and The Thing, however it does a much better job than a lot of remakes of Americanized remakes. While I do think the original film is a lot more unsettling, The Ring still does a brilliant job at reinventing it for American audiences.

The Original

Adapted from the novel by Koji Suzuki, Ringu follows journalist Reiko (Nanako Matsushima) as she investigates a mysterious video tape that causes the viewer to die a week after watching it. A slow burning and mysterious film, Ringu is oozing with atmosphere right from the beginning. Instead of relying on explicit jumpscares or excessive gore, instead Ringu focuses more on creating a sense of dread to get under the audiences skin. This is done very subtly, through the score, the framing, and sometimes brief appearances of the films antagonists Sadako, but it is never too explicit or in your face. This gives the audience the constant feeling that the protagonists are being followed, no matter where they go, the power of Sadako and the cursed tape never feels too far behind. It is a subtle yet effective film that all comes together in the end in one of the most chilling endings in any horror film of its time. That final scene where Sadako crawls out from the television is terrifying, not even Verbinski's remake could recreate the horror felt during that scene.

The Remake

Ringu grabbed the attention of American filmmaker Gore Verbinski, who would go on to direct films such as the first Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy and Rango. Admiring the simplicity and subtlety of the original, Verbinski decided to remake the film for American audiences, changing the setting from Japan to Seattle, Washington and casting Naoimi Watts in the lead role of Rachel Keller. Plot-wise, the film sticks very close to the original in terms of structure, however it changes certain aspects such as the backstory of the films antagonist Samara (this versions Sadako). It also places Rachel as a relative of the films first victim, most likely to give her a more personal connection to the case of the cursed tape. Ultimately the film was a success and spawned two sequels, it also prompted a number of other 'J-Horror' remakes such as The Grudge and Dark Water. I think that the success of The Ring grew from its ability to capture that sense of dread from the original so well, instead of changing the dynamic to an incredibly jumpy or violent film, it took that same minimalist approach that Ringu did. Sure, it has flaws, but as far as Americanized remakes of foreign language films go, it's a lot better than it should be.

What it Does Right

The thing that first grabbed my attention in The Ring was its cinematography by Bojan Bazelli. It's dark, it's gloomy, and it really enhances the already tense atmosphere that's established from the beginning. Supposedly Verbinski chose to set this version in Seattle due to it's 'wet and isolated' mood, if that is the case then he certainly captured that in this film as almost every frame has a dark and brooding colour scheme. One scene in particular that I feel captures this perfectly is the scene where Rachel is standing on the ferry. There is this moody, gray sky above her and the whole scene has this cold and unsettling atmosphere, even before that bit happens. Yes, the world of The Ring is a very dull one indeed, but that doesn't make it a dull film by any standards. Instead, this gloomy atmosphere is a major factor that contributes to the films slow burning sense of dread, much like in the original the curse always feels like its never too far behind our protagonist. The moody cinematography is what makes this film so memorable and gives it its own unique aesthetic, it has a similar vibe to David Finchers Se7en in that way, another film with gorgeous cinematography.

While I do think Ringu is a better film, one thing I do prefer about The Ring is the characterisation of the main character. In the original film, Reiko is not alone in her investigation into the tape, for most of the film she is accompanied by her ex-husband who she relies heavily upon at times. Along with this, she is sometimes portrayed as being hysterical while her ex is the calm and collected one, at times I felt like she was just a mere side character because of this. However, in the remake Rachel is a much more well-rounded character who feels like a much stronger protagonist. While she does team up with her ex, like in the original, she is a much more capable and self-reliant protagonist who takes matters into her own hands instead of depending on a male character. While Noah (Martin Henderson) does come to her rescue at one point, he does not accompany her to the island in the first place and his role is a lot more limited than Ryuji's (Hiroyuki Sanada) in the original. Rachel comes across as being much more determined and strong-willed, mainly due to Watt's fantastic performance. She is a much more likeable character than Reiko and a protagonist that we can actually get behind.

I've mentioned that, while sticking closely to the plot structure of the original, The Ring makes a few changes to the story. While some of the changes are questionable, such as the concept of Rachel's son having some sort of sixth sense, they allow the film to retain a certain sense of unpredictability for those who had seen the original first. For example, the effects of the curse are felt much more explicitly here as Rachel experiences some bizarre hallucinations during the seven days. There is one scene where she proceeds to pull a long string of black hair out from her throat that is not present in the original film, it's quite disturbing and acts as a curve ball of sorts that is hurled at the audience. That's one thing that I feel that The Ring does well, surprise the viewer. It does this by sticking quite closely to the plot of the original, so that whenever it does eventually veer away it comes as quite a shock. While it could be argued that this was merely done to generate more explicit scares for the American audience, I feel as though it works pretty well due to how these scares are crafted. They never feel out of place and fit nicely within the films narrative as opposed to being shoehorned in. 

While I do feel as though Ringu is a lot more atmospheric and in general, a better film than The Ring, I feel like the latter works quite well for an Americanized remake. It has a unique visual style, a strong female lead, and enough surprises to even catch hardcore fans of the original off-guard. While some of the changes are a bit unnecessary and while I do feel like Samara's backstory is a bit too overly complex than Sadako's, I also feel as though Verbinski did as best as he could to present a fresh take on the original. Had this film been in the hands of someone like, say Michael Bay for example, it may have come across as a bland and uninspired cash grab. However, with The Ring, Verbinski displays a sense of admiration for the original film, honouring it without completely copying it shot-for-shot. As far as remakes of foreign language films go, The Ring shines above the rest. 

Remakes Done Right- The Thing

Welcome to the penultimate chapter in my Remakes Done Right series, this time focusing on another remake of a classic 1950's sci-fi film. Again, this film is part remake, part adaptation, with both versions being based on John W. Campbell's novella Who Goes There? Yep, that's right, this post will focus on John Carpenter's  The Thing. The original film is another prime example of atom age science fiction, a creature feature about a group of scientists and servicemen facing off against a plant-based alien in the Arctic. Carpenter's remake however, is much more darker and the concept of the eponymous Thing remains much closer to that of the creature in the original novella. While they are both two very different adaptations, Carpenter's film is nonetheless considered a remake and over the next couple of minutes I will explain why it is a remake done right.

The Original

Based on Campbell's original novella, The Thing From Another World revolves around the discovery of a mysterious spacecraft in the Arctic and the strange events that follow. Like many of the sci-fi films from the 1950's, the film deals with the concept of science going too far and the idea that perhaps some things should simply be left alone. This was a recurring theme of atom age sci-fi in response to events such as the atomic bomb that led many to become skeptical of scientists and their abilities. These themes come across explicitly in The Thing From Another World, with the scientist Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) portrayed as cunning, attempting to promote growth in the alien seed pods. Conversely, the Air Force members are portrayed as being more rational, with Captain Hendry (Kenneth Tobey) being the one to lay the trap from the Thing. While it did differ a lot from the source material, The Thing From Another World has gone down as one of the greatest sci-fi films of the 1950's, praised for its pacing and memorable characters. However, by the time the 1980's came around there had been immense advances in special effects and filmmaking technology which left windows open to remake a number of classic sci-fi films, including this one...

The Remake

John Carpenter had arguably been teasing The Thing since back in 1978, when young Tommy Wallace curls up on his sofa to watch the original film in Halloween. However, it was not until 1982 that Carpenter's version would finally come to surface. Based on a screen play by Bill Lancaster (son of Burt, believe it or not), The Thing marks Carpenter's third collaboration with Kurt Russell, the first being Escape From New York and the second being Elvis. The film was shot in British Columbia in Canada and the Arctic conditions were achieved by shooting in the winter, in freezing conditions. The film stuck closer to the original novella than The Thing From Another World, with the creature assimilating and imitating its victims as opposed to simply draining them of their blood. The character names such as Dr. Copper and McReady are also taken from Campbell's novella. With outstanding special effects courtesy of Rob Bottin, his team, and contribution from Stan Winston, the titular creature was brought to life in all of its horrifying glory. A fantastic score was also composed by veteran, Ennio Morricone, combined with Carpenter's talent for building suspense to create a thrilling and terrifying sci-fi film.

What it Does Right

One word comes to mind in particular when talking about what The Thing does right, paranoia. Yes, throughout the film there is this constant atmosphere of paranoia that is carefully crafted through a combination of John Carpenter's direction and Ennio Morricone's score. As the Thing assimilates and perfectly imitates its victims, there is this constant questioning of who's human and who is not, because of this the research crew are constantly on edge and wary of each other. One scene in particular highlights Carpenter's talent for building dread, this of course, is the blood test scene. At one point in the film, MacReady (Kurt Russell) decides to test the blood samples of each crew member in order to determine which one is an imitation. The scene is incredibly tense, with a minimal use of score and a steady pace, we are left waiting in anticipation to discover who exactly is not human. Even before that is revealed, there is this unmistakable sense of paranoia throughout as virtually anybody could be an imitation, it has become an iconic scene in horror cinema and has influenced countless other filmmakers including Quentin Tarantino, who took a number of pages from Carpenter's book in last years The Hateful Eight. This scene is a prime example of that sense of dread that carries on throughout the duration of the film.

Another of the films greatest assets and one of the aspects that it is most well known for, is its special effects. There are a number of times throughout the film where the Thing reveals itself and transforms from human back to monster. These were all achieved through spectacular practical effects courtesy of Rob Bottin and his crew, who brought to life some truly grotesque creation such as the transformed Palmer and the iconic spider-head. They are some truly original designs that have gone down in history as some of the greatest creature designs in the history of the horror genre. However, one of the films most horrific creatures owes itself to Stan Winston, the special-effects creator who would go on to work on future films such as The Terminator and Aliens. What I'm talking about is the nightmare inducing dog-thing that appears early on in the film. The Thing initially infiltrates the Arctic base in the form of a seemingly innocent sleigh dog, the dog is then taken in by the sympathetic researchers and chaos ensues. Assimilating a number of other dogs, the Thing becomes this grotesque mass of flesh, sinew, and deformed canine, a disturbing sight no doubt, but a memorable one. This is the first time The Thing reveals itself onscreen and it sets the tone for the chaotic and terrifying events that followed.

One of the films boldest decisions by far however, is its ending. Both the novella and the original film end with the protagonists overcoming the Thing and making their way back to society peacefully. However, Carpenter's version has a much more bleak ending that keeps in tone with the films dark nature. After burning the base to the ground with the Thing inside, MacReady and Childs (Keith David) sit and watch the facility burn to the ground, both exhausted. As the two share a bottle of scotch and watch the flames get higher, there is this strange sense of uncertainty and we are left to wonder whether or not either of them was the Thing. Apparently a happy ending was actually shot, with MacReady taken to safety and confirmed to be completely human, however Carpenter felt that the more nihilistic ending suited the film much more. To me, this is a much more effective and thought-provoking ending, leaving viewers with a number of burning questions to reflect upon after the credits roll. It keeps in line with that constant sense of hopelessness throughout the film and makes for a much more interesting way to end it. Having a happy ending where everything is resolved would just seem out of place in this film.

John Carpenter's The Thing is a much darker, much more interesting take on Who Goes There? While The Thing From Another World is without a doubt equally iconic in its own respects, Carpenter's version updates the story for a more mature audience. Gruesome, thrilling, and packed to the brim with suspense, The Thing is one of the most important horror films of the 1980's and one of Carpenter's greatest achievements. With fantastic performances, mind-blowing practical effects, and a combination of the score and direction, the film is a wonderfully crafted film that will leave you on the edge of your seat even after the credits have rolled. It is because of this that The Thing is a remake done right.