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Remove Your Shift or Robert Eggers’ The Witch as a Horror Film

Are you scared or bored?
The Witch
Robert Eggers, 2016

Ever since Robert Eggers’s The Witch screened at the 2015 Sundance word of mouth praises for the film have pushed expectations through the roof. A24 opted to wait over a year before releasing the movie to cinemas. This decision was no doubt to build up audience anticipation. Their plan seems to have worked, but was marketing The Witch as a horror movie might not have been the best strategy.

While a great many have been left spellbound (pun intended) — it would seem an almost equal number of people have left the movie disappointed. Some have even felt bored by the movie. I among those who consider this film as a cinematic gem and a great example of the Art Horror genre. In my opinion Robert Eggers is a much needed breath of creative air to the current world of cinematic art. So I scratch my head when I hear/read cinephiles bash The Witch. Why don’t they all love it? Why is The Witch failing to capture all imaginations? How can someone see this low-budget film and not be impressed?

Well, easily.

Has Mia Farrow been impregnated with the child of Satan or date raped by her husband?
Rosemary’s Baby
Roman Polanski, 1968
Cinematography | William A. Fraker

What constitutes a great horror movie? A film that scares us on some level seems an essential requirement, but is there a way to make the definition of that word fit us all as a group? Of course not. We are all scared and disturbed by different things and styles. There are two horror films which can both be easily defended as cinematic masterworks: Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist. Both of these films terrified audiences upon their initial releases.

What would happen if Roman Polanski were 35 years old in 2015 and Rosemary’s Baby had debuted at the 2016 Sundance Film Festival? Would it frighten audiences and be eagerly snapped up by A24? Let’s pretend it would. So it is February 2016 and you sit yourself down at a cineplex and watch it.

“All of them witches”
Rosemary’s Baby
Roman Polanski, 1968
Cinematography | William A. Fraker

Are you pleased with Rosemary’s Baby as a horror film or did it make you chuckle and feel resentful because the “pay-off” failed to make you jump or dumbfound you in awe?

Sure you might admire William A. Fraker’s cinematography, the eccentric performances and the ambiguity of what is actually happening on the screen — but would this movie disappoint as a horror film?

I have a knee-jerk reaction to this “what if” scenario. I want to dig my feet into the sand and answer, “Yes! It is provocative, entertaining, creepy, amusing and most certainly haunts my mind long after I see it!”

However my knee-jerk might be a bit off.

“Your mother sucks cocks in Hell.”
Linda Blair
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

Ideas of what constitutes a horror film have dramatically changed since 1968. This is no longer the 20th Century. We have become jaded to violence and horrific events depicted in film. Movies are no longer presented as “Events” and most audiences demand more than looming threat and ambiguities from horror films. A solid example of this is to revisit William Friedkin’s The Exorcist. Upon this film’s release in late 1973/early 1974, it literally caused an international sensation. Reports of heart attacks, fainting and full-on panic attacks in cinemas filled the news. Lines to ticket counters wrapped blocks and an endless slew of cinematic rip-offs soon littered cinemas for years to come. Even back in the early 1970’s there were people who found the grim horror film funny, but it would seem to have been a small minority of the film’s audience.

“The power of Christ compels you!”
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

In 2000 a new remastered and cut of the film was released into cinemas. This was The Exorcist: Version You’ve Never Seen. I was in the cinema to watch the movie with a sold-out audience. Parents with babies, sullen teens and eager fans of the 1970’s flick filled the theatre. Endless chattering throughout the on-screen commercials and previews led me to expect that I’d be watching the movie with children running around, teens giggling and older folks calling for silence. Instead something odd happened. The entire audience sat in silence once the jarring music of Krzysztof Penderecki met the film’s title card. I saw this film with 3 friends from my office. I didn’t care for the new ending, but was satisfied that The Exorcist had stood the test of time. Only minutes later as we exited the building I began to hear people talk about how comical the movie was. Yet why had there been no laughs during the screening? The 2000 release still brought in a significant amount of money for Warner Bros.

For those who would dismiss both Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist as dark or even unintended comedy, it is important to access both films within the appropriate and respective contexts. By the time Rosemary’s Baby was released the Hippie Movement had taken a dark turn toward addiction, homelessness and the horrific introduction to The Manson Family truly crushed ideas of peace and harmony for many. Theories regarding the corruption of government was starting to brew over the top of the cultural pot. The important growth of the Women’s Movement had started to challenge the cultural status quo. Roman Polanski’s film worked on both the straight-on horror of the story presented, but it also offered plenty of ambiguous subjectivity to allow viewers to see the film as hallucination or even as a metaphor. When The Exorcist was released filmmakers had already begun to push the cinematic envelope far beyond what was accustomed. However, no one had really pushed it as far as William Friedkin’s film.

The guilt that will not die. A demon takes the form of a deceased mother…
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

Marketed as a horror film, The Exorcist presented horror in a whole new way. The Exorcist takes itself very seriously and the actors perform as if cast in a highly important work of dramatic cinema. This was horror movie gone the way of The Actors Studio with elevated production values. The Exorcist was missing most of the normal cinematic clues that it was a horror film. It also depicts the sadistic and perverse possession of an innocent little girl. In 1973 / 1974 no one had ever seen a child in such peril or scenes this shocking. This was a film of firsts.

And of course there is a whole other level of understanding at play in this iconic film — a reflection of its time. The government was letting us down from the Watergate Hotel to a meaningless war that continued to ravage despite overwhelming protest. The post Hippie Movement had evolved into the Sexual Revolution and Drug Culture was causing some serious cultural rifts. Parents no longer felt any control over their children. The Exorcist was a particularly incisive cut into the once communal ideas of cultural aspects once considered sacred. It expertly captured the Western World’s deepest fears into a manifestation of demonic possession of innocence that could no longer be protected.

No matter how you want to look at it, this was a whole different kind of world 48 / 43 years ago.

“The film which you are about to see is an account of the tragedy which befell a group of five youths…”
Title Card
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
Tobe Hooper, 1974

Horror films took a swift and dark turn that blended the fantastical with reality. What many might funny now, were visualizations of all too real horror for many in the late 1960’s to early 1970’s. Kobe Hooper’s drive-in movie was far more realistically articulated than anything that had arrived there with the possible exception of his earlier The Last House on the Left. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was really not all that graphic, but it sent audiences into a horror of a different order. These two films manifested horrors of parents as well as their children.

“…Consciousness is a terrible curse. I think. I feel. I suffer.”
John Malkovich looks into a portal that leads to his own mind.
Being John Malkovich
Spike Jonze, 1999
Cinematography | Lance Acord

The next film that comes to my mind will most likely lend a glimpse into what scares me. I saw Being John Malkovich on the afternoon it opened in Boston. I had heard nothing of it. I walked into that cinema free of any anticipation of what I was about to see. I wanted to see it because I quite like both John Cusack and Catherine Keener. While there was some very comical moments, this movie creeped me out. That night I met some friends at a bar and told them that Being John Malkovich was exceptional but quite disturbing. I think I actually called it a comical horror movie.

Dissatisfied, misunderstood and lonely. John Cusack contemplates falling into the consciousness of another…
Being John Malkovich
Spike Jonze, 1999
Cinematography | Lance Acord

I would later get questions from my pals who found the movie awesome, but not at all disturbing or horrifying. But for me the idea of someone finding a way into my mind or even worse, me being stuck in the brain of another is an absolutely horrifying concept. Talk about an identity crisis from Hell. Being John Malkovich still freaks me out a bit. I usually have at least one nightmare after having seen it.

Perhaps the most polarizing horror film of my time is 1999’s The Blair Witch Project. Unlike with Spike Jonze’s movie, I was well aware of TBWP. We all were. And I saw it during its first weekend run. This film had created a whole new way to market a movie.

Heather Donahue turns the camera on herself as she panics and fears she is facing her end.
The Blair Witch Project
Daniel Myrick / Eduardo Sanchez, 1999

The cinema was sold out. A good number of the audience was frustrated by what they saw. For me it was a positive horror experience. I had not ever seen a film quite like it. As Heather Donahue slipped into hysteria, I felt her panic. I’m not a person who enjoys camping. The very idea is scary to me. So this film already offered something that I find creepy — nature after dark. I quite admired the lo-fi ingenuity of both Daniel Myrick Eduardo Sanchez. The online marketing blitz was fascinating. Please note that the Internet was still kind of new. The fake documentary that screened on television sporadically at the time was equally odd. It seemed to be a real documentary. The film really felt like found footage. All three characters seemed like people you might know. Their shared and respective fits of rage and panic felt like the real thing.

The movie made a ton of money and spawned an endless stream of found footage horror films continuing to this day. The difference is that other filmmakers would learn to avoid aspects of The Blair Witch Project that deeply annoyed audiences. If ever a horror movie arrived carrying strong word-of-mouth it was The Blair Witch Project.

To say that it fully satisfied audience expectations would not be correct. Many found the jittery camera movements nauseating. Others found the whole film to be tease for over an hour resulting in deliverance of a limp pay-off. But I was among those who was impressed by the movie. I was not so impressed from a technical standpoint, but the style matched the plot. I liked it, but I could understand the reservations of others.

A very clever use of TV and Internet marketing
The Blair Witch Project
Daniel Myrick / Eduardo Sanchez, 1999

After wowing audiences at The Cannes Film Festival in 2014, David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows was released to limited cinemas and shortly after to VOD in 2015. The surreal and odd film received a great deal of red-hot press and strong word-of-mouth prior and just after it came out in the US. A meticulously crafted low-budget film that looks a great deal better than most low budget films, It Follows is far more than your average horror film. As praise mounted the movie became a painful example of falling victim to heightened expectations from horror movie fans. Even worse, Mitchell’s clever and disturbing little movie had sparked debate among Film Critics and cinephiles regarding its worth as Film Art.

How in the world do we define terms like “Horror Movie” and “Film Art” in a way to determine which films fit within each? More importantly, who has the right to set the terms?

I might detest movies like I, Frankenstein or Pixels, but to some these films are fantastic and should be considered “Film Art.” What gives me the right to argue their points down? No one or organization issues this right. Even if such a person or institution existed I would proudly rebel against it.

The subjectivity of art is what makes it great. And the freedom to voice opinions and evaluations is what makes being a cinephile fun, but lately differing opinions have really taken an ugly turn.

Is this where sex can lead?
It Follows
David Robert Mitchell, 2015
Cinematography | Mike Gioulakis

Our 24/7 connection in the 21st Century has created a platform on to which international magazines, paid Film Critics and every member of the Audience can have an equal voice. This provides an awesome potential for the individual. From blogs like this to the exceptional podcasts, people now have the power.

The downside to this is that more than a few have opted to use that platform to be cruel and mean-spirited.

Such is the sad way of human nature. But every once in a while great films get unfairly gut-punched by the meanest and loudest voices. The result is that many individuals who might have been open to evaluating a movie that has gotten some negative feedback are led to believe that doing so would be jump on the wrong bandwagon. In other words, people are afraid of being bullied or appear ignorant to take a chance on a particular film. The loudest and often most cruel voices manage to force a hand in keeping others from making up their own minds.

It Follows is not for all members of the collective audience. Very few, if any, movies will entertain everyone, but the quality of a film should not be made to serve as a barometer by which individuals are judged and causally dismissed as if each were a movie themselves. A person should be comfortable in being able to state she/he enjoyed a movie without fear of being flamed by others on the platform.

David Robert Mitchell’s surreal film explores everything from fears associated with sex to sexually transmitted diseases and all the way around to ideas about potential dangers of friendship and meditations on death. It is also an outstanding example of how much can be done with a very limited budget. It Follows is a great looking film.

“Okay, like I told you, all you can do is pass it on to someone else.”
It Follows
David Robert Mitchell, 2015
Cinematography | Mike Gioulakis

When I first saw It Follows I was blown away. I was invited to an advance screening. I had only read a couple of things about it at the time. I came out of the viewing experience disoriented and loved the film. I thought of it as Surrealism. I did not immediately identify the movie within the Horror Film genre. To be honest, my biggest concern was trying to determine if the movie had taken place in the not so distant past or present day.

The negative backlash against It Follows caused a number of folks to avoid the movie. I’ve noted a strong number who have seen it via DVD or streaming and loved it and wished they could have seen it on a big screen or sooner. Sadly I’ve also come across a rather large number of folks who loved it but avoid ever stating or sharing this fact for fear of being flamed by fellow bloggers, twitters and other Internet Communities. This really bums me out. It is all too easy to think these people are weak and need to assert themselves. For many the Internet which had once welcomed them has de-evolved to a High School-like experience in which they feel the need to conform.

“This may hurt a little.”
Perspectives go askew in more way than several.
Seconds
John Frankenheimer, 1966
Cinematography | James Wong Howe

The film genre of horror has always been a wide genre. It includes the silly and inane as well as well as the highly artistic and innovative. It can also bleed more easily into other genres than others. A good example of this is John Frankenheimer’s Seconds. This movie is usually considered a “thriller” or “drama” but it has also been read as “science fiction.”

I’ve always considered Seconds to be a horror film of the highest order, to which I assign the label “Art Horror.” Frankenheimer’s vision depicts what is perhaps one of humanity’s greatest fears: aging and mortality. Look just a bit deeper and you will notice the capture of committed relationship horror. Aging and life’s ultimate natural end is not for sissies. Nor is a relationship such as marriage. As we see in Seconds, love may spark passion but down the line that passion often slips away. If there is no love between life partners, facing the natural perils of life can be hard if not impossible. Seconds has enjoyed a re-evaluation thanks to the folks at The Criterion Collection. Label or genre it as you like, but this is a disturbing movie from all aspects. This is a generally accepted film. Sadly we are not so open to respect for a newer movie like It Follows.

Patrick Wilson about to get a fright…
Insidious
James Wan, 2010
Cinematography|
Brewer / Lenenti

In 2007 yet another found footage movie found its way to cinemas. Oren Peli’s Paranormal Activity made a good deal of money for very little financial investment. I paid to see it. It was most certainly a horror film, but it failed to interest me and it certainly failed to scare me. It has spawned a franchise that continues to make money from one idea. James Wan’s Insidious also enjoyed success and has spawned at least one sequel. I saw it as well. Once again, Insidious is most certainly a horror movie. It attempted to offer a bit more thought and ideas than Paranormal Activity and featured some decent acting. The idea of a child in a coma and his parents trying to bring him back does provide some interest, but this film was focused on making the audience jump.

No new ground here. Nothing wrong with that if it floats your boat. Movies like this do not even get my boat a foot from its pier.

Robert Egger’s The Witch is currently generating an oppositional mix of awed praise to condemnation. The core of this largely online battle seems to be annoyance that The Witch has been sold to audiences as a horror film. A great number of the audience are frustrated if not straight up angry that The Witch failed to be scary by their definitions. This is a debate that has left me more than a little confused. Had we all seen the same movie? I did think that many might be disappointed to not find themselves jumping in their seats or clinging to arm rests, but the whole Anti The Witch attitude against the film has caught me by surprise.

Peek-a-boo!
Anya Taylor-Joy
The Witch
Robert Eggers, 2016
Cinematography | Jarin Blaschke

True enough A24 should have gotten The Witch out sooner. Almost a year worth of praise has most definitely put the movie in the uncomfortable position of living up to hype.

If you’ve not yet seen The Witch, there will be some spoilers to follow. Simply stop reading. If you are not sure you will see it then reading should not offer a problem.

Robert Eggers’ film has been carefully researched. Almost all of the film’s dialogue has been lifted from 17th Century records which transcribe reported events of suspected or assigned evil witchery. The movie is also closely aligned with this sort of folklore and fear of that time. The Witch captures the feeling / ambiance that matches my idea of what life must have looked and been like within the unsettled 17th Century America to which the Puritans and other settlers ventured. I could almost smell this world flowing out from the movie screen. Eggers may have only had a budget of $1.5 million, but this movie looks like it cost a great deal more. Carefully framed by Jarin Blaschke’s camera, The Witch manages to be both lush and rustically threatening all at once. The film works on two levels from beginning to end.***

Welcome to a New England folktale…
The Witch
Robert Eggers, 2016
Cinematography | Jarin Blaschke

On the one hand the film can be viewed as a horror film based on ancient folklore regarding Satan and Satanic Ritual lensed as reality. The idea that what one perceives as little more than silly fairy tale is given life as something deeply menacing, horrible and real. The Witch is also smart enough to function on a less literal levels. What we see unfold could be a manifestations resulting from misunderstood happenings to the unimaginable struggles for survival in an unknown place. And within the metaphorical read of the movie, the confusions and frustrations of two children on the verge of adulthood struggle with both the urge to rebel against and fear the changes/longings they experience under the repression of a puritanical daily life.

A pious family is banished from their Puritan Settlement for being a too hardcore with Christian beliefs. This in of itself is more than a little telling. It seems that their fellow settlers who left England in pursuit of an even more repressed life now feel that this particular family has taken worship of Christ to an unacceptable level. The father’s fevered preachings of faith are so intolerant that his words seem to border on perversity. The father stands proud and happily accepts his family’s fate of banishment. We follow the family on their devout journey for a new home. When Father decides he has found the perfect clearing of land for their own settlement, all fall to their knees and pray for thanks and blessing. It is not clear how long it takes the family to construct a bone-bare basic home, a small barn, a fence and the beginnings of a small crop — but they have managed to do it. But problems are not far behind end everything begins to crumble around them in horrifying ways.

Ralph Ineson as the father leads his family in prayer before they begin to eat a very sparse dinner.
The Witch
Robert Eggers, 2016
Cinematography | Jarin Blaschke

The mysterious loss of a child, a failing crop, lack of food and an approaching winter sends this family into a deep crisis.

Could this crisis be a test from God or the work of Satan? The first indication that something far sinister is gripping the family presents itself very early in the film. Eldest child and daughter, “Thomasin” played with searing naturalism by Anya Taylor-Joy is to keep an eye on her youngest sibling. A cute baby lies in front of Thomasin. She begins to play a game of “peek-a-boo” with the baby. After a couple of rounds she covers her eyes but when she removes her hands, the baby has simply vanished. We see that the baby has been magically stolen by a naked crone of a witch. It becomes apparent that this elder witch has butchered the baby, devoured the meat and spread the babe’s blood all over her body. Is Eggers camera meant to be taken literally or is this the POV of a young woman’s darkest fear? We really do not know.

What we do know is that the family has no choice but to assume the very logical worst. The baby must have been snapped up by a wolf. Thomasin never seems to make a big point of the fact that there could be no way a wolf could have taken the baby so quickly and without a sound. And if she feels guilt it would appear to be suppressed for fear of her parents wrath. The mother slips into depression and clearly holds her eldest child responsible. It should be noted that the style in which Eggers shoots the old witch is different to what we have seen displayed in the movie.

A witch’s lair, perhaps?
The Witch
Robert Eggers, 2016
Cinematography | Jarin Blaschke

We soon discover that the eldest son has feelings for his beautiful sister that are not appropriate. He is aware of this, but does his best to hide it. While it is never fully articulated, there is a sense that Thomasin is aware of her brother’s interest. She does not encourage it, but there is a vague sense that she enjoys the attention. She passively finds ways to disguise her touches on her brother as innocent when their might be a shared desire at play in these touches. There are a pair of twins who are now the youngest of the clan. At first it would seem these two playful children are simply a bit spoiled, but their behavior is revealed to be far more sinister. They have taken to playing with the family’s black goat to which they have assigned the name Black Phillip. They claim to speak with him and that he has told them things. Most of which are more than a little worrying. The family’s misfortunes only continue. Eavesdropping, keeping secrets, lying, anger, hunger, depression and accusations soon engulf this family. Along the way we see horrific incidents that may or may not be actually happening. A goat appears to provide blood instead of milk. A seemingly ready to consume chicken’s egg is dropped to reveal a fully formed chick dead and bloody. An innocent rabbit appears to the father and his son but seems to serve as some sort of hiding beast of omen. Black Phillip does some very odd movements for the twins. The eldest boy stumbles upon what appears to be a witch’s lair. A beautiful woman emerges with an apple and gives the child an adult kiss. This woman soon appears to turn into an old crone. Thomasin takes to staring into the woods that border the newly created home land.

An odd plaything for an odd pair of twins… Meet Black Phillip.
The Witch
Robert Eggers, 2016
Cinematography | Jarin Blaschke

The father, expertly played by Ralph Ineson, has the look of a somehow perverse version of a stereotypical idea of Jesus. He seems to be the most conflicted by the events that are pushing the family beyond the edge of reason. Before long their eldest son falls prey to what appears to be witchcraft or black magic and dies. The mother slips further into hysteria. Ineson’s William is torn by accusations from the twins that Thomasin has been consorting with The Devil. Most especially due to the fact that they claim it is Black Phillip who has informed them of this as well as Thomasin herself.

But continuing events which he is unable to explain push him to put all three children into the small barn. He barricades it so they can’t leave, but the twins’ Black Phillip is sealed in with them. Disturbing visions come to the mother in her fevered night’s sleep. William emerges in the morning to discover that the barn has been essentially destroyed, the twins dead and Thomasin lies on the ground covered in the twins’ blood. Tragedy strikes yet again leaving Thomasin alone among the carnage. Exhausted and traumatized she makes her way into the hovel of a home, sits at the table and allows her head to fall.

Locked up in the barn with Black Phillip or The Devil?
The Witch
Robert Eggers, 2016
Cinematography | Jarin Blaschke

Is Thomasin sleeping? It is not entirely clear but it would seem she is awoken by a male presence. Could it be the vile Black Phillip? It is. But then perhaps it isn’t.

Thomasin does not seem particularly surprised. Why should she? She has witnessed what can she can only attribute to Satan’s darkest magik destroy her family. She demands or rather “conjures” Black Phillip to speak with her. We do not see the goat speak but we hear a deep male voice respond. A conversation ensues in which he asks the young girl what she might want from life. The voice assures her she will live life “deliciously” if she will simply sign a book that has magically been sat before her. Thomasin hesitates, but is instructed to remove her shift and that he will guide her hand to sign her name in the book.

The last images we see are of a nude Thomasin walking toward a gathering of nude witches in the midst of a Satanic ritual. As the chanting reaches a pitch, the witches began to levitate and fly upward. A calming look comes over Thomasin’s face and she begins to levitate toward the sky.

And here is a bit of cinematic magic — in another director’s hands this moment in the film might have come across in another way. But under Robert Eggers steady direction, this young woman’s take to flight is not a moment of female freedom or rebirth. This is the film’s most chilling moment. We see a young woman ascend naked toward her destiny in celebration of her evilness. She embraces all that is evil and leaves all kindness behind. It is a nightmare awakening and is horrifying.

Ralph Ineson
The Witch
Robert Eggers, 2016
Cinematography | Jarin Blaschke

The Witch weaves a spell that takes on a slow burn within the mind. I was never afraid as I watched the movie unfold, but I was disturbed as much as I was fascinated. Hours after I saw The Witch, it began to haunt my thoughts. This is a movie that stays with you.

A24 has employed two tag lines to promote The Witch:

Evil takes many forms and A New-England Folktale — both makes sense for the film. Each expresses the two ways in which the film can be viewed.

Neither tag line makes any promises that the movie is unable to keep. The Witch may not make you jump in your seat or cling to your arm rests, but you very well might squirm. And it is highly likely that you will ponder what you have seen long after you have left the cinema.

A work of Art Horror that deserves praise. I think The Witch comes close to being a brilliant exercise in Art Horror. Make fun of me, flame me and dismiss me if you wish.

“Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”
The Witch
Rober Eggers, 2016
Cinematography |

***There is a third “read” to be found while watching and evaluating The Witch. While this reading is more than a bit dark, there is correlation to be made between a metaphorical rejection of patriarchal ideas regarding the identity of women. A story which leads a young woman out of repression, oppression and up to the sky in a celebration of her own identity, sexuality and power. The thing is that most feminist thinkers are likely to take exception to using such actions as vivisection murder of male baby and ultimate violent destruction of a family unit. However, we are dealing in metaphors here.

Matty Stanfield, 2.25.2016

Cinematic Deceptions or A Wolf in Monsters’ Clothing

Things are about to get very strange…
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Photograph | Jan Kudela

“The Dreamer awakes.
The shadow goes by.
The tale I have told you, that tale is a lie.
But listen to me, Bright maiden, proud youth.
The tale is a lie; What it tells is the truth.”
— Author Unknown, Traditional folktale ending

When we are children and an adult reads or tells us a story from the realm of “fairy tales” or folklore, a profound logic seeps into our psyche that never leaves. An aspect or a key moment in one of these stories becomes a core foundation of our identity. It seems impossible that some bit of a childhood story has worked its way so deeply into our perception of logic. When given a period of time to “digest” this idea it no longer seems impossible. It is valid truth. This is not a bad thing. The illogical silliness of some old folklore bears a great deal of truth that is easier for a child to grasp when told in the form of a “Once Upon A Time..” context. Folklore, mythology and fairy tales are grounded in some subversion of truth. It isn’t the fox in Little Red Riding Hood or the witch in Hansel and Gretel that scares us and merges into our logic. It is the deception perpetuated by these character archetypes that grabs our tiny minds and never lets go.This is an important understanding for every human being: Don’t trust strangers. It is certainly a crucial idea that every child must understand.

On the flip-side of this logic, sometimes those terrifying allegories form such a strong hold within our minds it aids in a perpetuation of illogical paranoia.

Horror is fast approaching…
Father Tucker’s Play-Time
Series Edition of Little Red Riding Hood, c. 1910

Unfounded feelings or suspicions that can linger with us well into our adulthood. While it is absurd to think your Grandmother or anyone upon whom you depend could morph into a fanged sort of demon intent on eating you, it doesn’t mean that in a crisis of an elder’s illness you won’t have a nightmare in which this happens. This is the subconscious creating a metaphor out of the stressors involved in your worries for and about her care. On a conscious level, that a walk in the woods might seem fun but something inside you worries that it could easily become a walk into unspeakable dangers. A jump into the ocean for a swim can sometimes be met with a fear that somewhere just below us, John Williams’ musical notes are trying to warn us of that giant shark that is about to attack. We know that the forest and the ocean contain dangers, but these are dangers that are very low from a realistic perspective. This is when those parables, allegories, metaphors and movies come to the surface of our adult identities. It is easy for many to push back these illogical concerns, but for some it gets a bit more murky.

Exploring fairy tales, folklore and mythology is nothing new for filmmakers. They often hold the same sort of spell over us as do the stories that inspire them. Movies have always played a strong role in my life. Partly because I grew up constantly seeing them, but also because I desperately needed to escape my reality. My father was insane. It was mistaken for “eccentricity” at the time. But he was a scary man. He was brilliant at deception. For the first nine years of my life, I viewed him as constant threat. But that is a whole other blog. For now, let’s stick with the fact that my father was insane and he had no clue regarding “appropriate boundaries.” The few boundaries he had were skewed at best.

Interestingly, it would be my greatest source of fear who led me to the power of movies and the escape they offered. This started very early in my life. He seemed to have no idea as to what was acceptable for a child to see. Naturally, as child I didn’t mind this at all. But often I would see images and stories that left me feeling deeply confused and afraid. Children are far aware that culture gives credit. A child may not be able to articulate an understanding, but they understand much more than most think. I can remember my father making a last minute decision that we were going to the movies. My mother was not home. As we walked up the ticket counter he must have requested one adult and one child. I’m not sure, but I the woman behind the ticket counter became quite upset, “Sir, this is not a movie for a child! How old are you, sweetie?” I still remember the shocking way her tough voice suddenly took on a honey-dewed sweetness. Before I could form an answer, I felt the seemingly giant hand of my father firmly clenched my head. “His age is none of your business. How much do I owe you?”

“Do you know what she did, your cunting daughter?”
Linda Blair inciting heart attacks and long lines at the box office.
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973

The Exorcist did not scare me at that time. To be honest, I was just confused. My biggest concern regarding the movie was trying to understand why people around us seemed so disturbed. When I whispered, “Her voice don’t match her lips.” was greeted with hushes from all corners. It would be years later that the horrific side of this film became apparent to me. As a child, it seemed more silly than scary. I understood I was not tell mom we saw it. Later my father took me to the drive-in. Drive-in’s always showed movies in “double bills.” Pay one price per head and see two movies. The movies were usually older and more obscure than what one would find in a traditional cinema. As my father adjusted the speaker to his window the show began. The first movie was about vampires. Later I realized that this was Roman Polanski’s The Fearless Vampire Killers. I’m not exactly sure how old I was, but I am thinking I was about 8. Once again, I wasn’t particularly scared. To be honest, I remember being more concerned about this odd dude who walked around my father’s car. My father pulled out his pistol and the odd man quickly vanished.

The second feature would have a much dramatic impact and it intoxicated my tiny brain. It was scary to me, but it seemed to require my attention. I might not have been able to state what the film was about, but I suspect I understood it better than most of the adults sitting in their cars. This girl was in trouble and none of it was her fault. I was worried for her. And the images that were projected on that outdoor screen were searing into my being. I did ask my father about it. He said something to the effect that it was an artsy-fartzy movie. He was bored and wanted to leave, but I begged him to stay and let us watch it. It would be years later that a friend’s older cousin produced a beat-up old VHS tape for us to watch. The images were pretty muddy, but these were the same ones I had seen as child. I was pulled into the screen of my friend’s television. As I watched it all flow out too quickly for my stoned consciousness to read the blurry subtitles my friend kept muttering, “What the fuck? No, Matty! What the fuck? Make it stop!” She rolled around laughing. Occasionally sneaking a peak, she would scream in a sort of mocked horror.

The movie we were watching was Valerie and Her Week of Wonders. Returning to this film with a clear and adult perspective, it is easy that my childhood reality lent this surreal film a great more power than it intended.

Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

Shot in 1969 and released in 1970, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders marks the end of The Czech New Wave. No doubt it ended up on a double-billing with another old movie at the drive-in. I’m not sure where my friend’s cousin got his tape. I would be in my 30’s before it was even remotely “restored” and released via DVD. After a good deal of work, Criterion has recently re-issued a pristine version with improved subtitles. Watching Jaromil Jireš’ bizarre movie within the context of the 21st Century is challenging. Based on Vítězslav Nezval 1930’s Surrealist novel, the entire production is almost drenched in Gothica.

“Sirin and Alkonost, the Birds of Joy and Sorrow” by Viktor Vasnetsov, 1896
Was thought to have had an impact on Vítězslav Nezval

Nezval was key member of the Czech Surrealist Movement, and Jireš’ utilizes his dialogue and adheres to Nezval’s core aesthetics. Nezval wrote the following in his “Forward” for his book, Valerie and her Week of Wonders:

“I wrote this novel out of a love of the mystique in those ancient tales, superstitions and romances, printed in Gothic script, which used to flit before my eyes and declined to convey to me their content. …If, with this book, I will have given [the readers] an evocation of the rare and tenuous sensations which compelled me to write a story that borders on the ridiculous and trite, I shall be satisfied.”

Nezval’s book still holds interest, but it is far more complex than the movie it would inspire. At times the book seems like it is intended to be comical, but then takes a twisted turn to the grotesque. It is filled with narratives of the Gothica tradition. It is also creepy in the use of eroticism. Unlike the book, the film adaptation forms an immediate tie to the Pohádka. This is the term for the Czechoslovakian concept of “fairy tales” which is more than a little different from our perceptions of parables. The Pohádka holds an important place in Czech culture and is often steeped in religious ideologies. From what I’ve been able to gather, the “Evil” characters are even more cruel and the “good” characters are quickly identified as victims who may or may not take vengeance. The victims may not even survive. I apologize if I offer a weak definition of Pohádka. Please feel free to leave a comment to correct or clarify my description.

Jaroslava Schallerová as Valerie, the dutiful granddaughter practices her piano lessons.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

The plot is deceptively simple: a beautiful 13 year old orphaned girl has her first period and, as she starts her path toward womanhood, she is confronted with a series of horrify and menacing people and situations. These individuals and the circumstances in which she meets and experiences them is in a world that may or may not be strictly limited to her imagination. Poor Valerie seems to be living in a sort of disorienting dream state.

The film begins with a beautiful young girl napping in some form of surreal post-hippie gazebo. In the first of many “forms” a thief arrives. Dangling upside down he magically slips Valerie’s earrings off. She awakens just in time to see him running away. She runs after this thief to determine his identity and why he took her earrings. Valerie seems more intrigued than upset. As she roams about her village people began to take a grotesque formations. We have already met her grandmother. Grandma is strange from the first moment she enters our view. Valerie seems to realize that something is not quite right with Grandma, but she doesn’t let on. Later as she floats in a small pool of water in her village’s fountain. As she prepares to emerge from the water, she becomes entranced by the water’s ripples. The thief returns. This time he magically slips her earrings back on. Seemingly content she begins her walk home.

A First Menses has never appeared this easy or so pretty as Valerie admires her blood drips on the daisies.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

In what must be the oddest cinematic depiction of a female’s first menstruation, Valerie notices drips of blood falling on the daisies over which she gently glides. She does not appear alarmed or upset. She simply marvels at the beauty of the red blood droplets on the flowers. She then dashes home to the safety of her pristinely white and innocent bedroom. She falls into a deep sleep. It is very hard to know if the rest of what we see is a nightmare or her reality.

Valeris is becoming suspect of her Grandmother.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

Her ghostly Grandmother begins to form into a sinister threat. Other females enter her world who seem to share her Grandmother’s face. And each new version of Granny offers a new level of terror. Her yearning to know who her parents were takes on an odd level of horror. As she looks through her Grandmother’s dining room window she sees a procession of interesting and happy-looking people. Her Grandmother states that these are the missionaries and that they will be providing sleeping quarters for one of the priests. As Valerie looks at the people she begins to notice a number of things that seem “off” but most noticeably is a horrific looking man hiding his face behind an equally disturbing mask.

Oh, not to worry. He is just a former lover of Grandma’s.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

This “man” looks more like a monster than a person. But Grandma dismisses Valerie’s concerns. There is no need to be alarmed. Granny reveals that this vile creature is just a former lover.

Valerie receives an invitation to a sermon for all of the village virgins. Valerie, being a virgin and a “good girl” goes to the sermon. It isn’t long before Valerie meets the man who took and returned her earrings. He proclaims his love and desire for Valerie. The physicality of this man has changed twice already. Valerie seems hesitant, but she clearly finds this form attractive. He warns that the monster she saw is not some just some former lover of her Grandmother but true Evil in human form.

Before long Valerie discovers that this monster might be her father. And that the boy who seeks her affections might be her brother. Or, her father. Identities change so often that we are more confused than Valerie. When she returns home where she is led to a secret chamber. She is forced to witness her Grandmother in a series of sadistic and perverse sexual tortures for her “former lover” who now looks like a priest. From Valerie’s perspective it is hard to know if Granny is ‘getting off’ or in jeopardy. This sadistic priest is called Gracian. This vile priest proves to be one of the most cruel of Valerie’s world. When Valerie refuses to give in to his disgusting sexual advances which quickly turn to the threat of rape, he conspires to have the whole village turn against Valerie. He claims she is a witch entrancing everyone with her beauty. They attempt to burn her at the stake! Oh, poor Valerie! What is she to do?

Wait? Is this really my week of wonders or are all my friends and family trying to burn me at the stake??!? Oh, poor Valerie!
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

Fear not, despite the flames and rope — Valerie never seems too concerned with this situation. She makes fun of the priest and spectators who were once her friends and neighbors. She magically escapes the fate of the burning stake only to find more horrific challenges ahead. It would seem that her creepy old Grandma has made a pact with Evil. She will surrender Valerie to him in exchange for the return of her youth and beauty. It all gets quite upsetting for little Valerie. Upon learning of her Grandmother’s cruel pact with Evil, she discovers that her recently wedded neighbor has been assaulted by a vampire! But not before this adult neighbor attempts to seduce Valerie. As with most of Valerie’s interactions, she is just curious enough to allow an erotic opportunity to start, but then she immediately finds a way to break free of the erotic commitment. This is the case regarding what appears to lesbian sex is actually feeble attempt to suck Valeri’s blood for strength. Oddly, once Valerie manages to calm her “friend” they both seem to fall asleep. Or that is what appears to happen.

Oh, Valerie! Trust your instincts! Your Granny wants your youth and beauty!
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

Valerie’s week of “wonders” is really turned into a week of confusion. She soon learns that her parents are quite alive. When they show up, Valerie notices that her mother looks just like her Grandmother, her father looks just like her would-be suitor who she had originally thought might be her brother. And as for the Evil Monster, like the others who populate her world, he is continually vacillating his intentions.

For Valerie, evil becomes the one constant that is seemingly always wanting to kill, seduce or trap her.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

He is clearly some sort of vampire. But just as soon as he seems hellbent on sucking away all of her life’s blood, he is more interested in seducing her. Then, and without warning, he seems intent on raping her. Just when Valerie thinks she know what this Evil Monster wants, he offers to save her. Valerie is amongst every sort of imaginable identity of harm and danger. Possible familial connections turn toward incest, neighbors become enemies in the form of potential lovers or vampires or just plain old ghouls. Every one she encounters is loaded with vile intent.

All while filmmaker, Jaromil Jires, fills her world with symbolic colors, constantly alternating tones and metaphors of all shapes and sizes. From beginning to end the movie is a total trip into stunningly beautiful and ugly oddness. The strange appearances of the actors and Jan Curík’s stunning cinematography make it almost impossible to look away. Is should be noted that Ester Krumbachová served as the film’s Production Designer. Film buffs will note that she was also responsible for the look of Vera Chytilova’s groundbreaking 1966 film, Daisies. Her work here is actually more impressive.

Wow. This is some week alright…
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

I’ve essentially been making fun of this truly amazing movie. But it is clearly intended to make us laugh as much as it makes us squirm. Valerie and her Week of Wonders is a surreal view of the implications of pending womanhood. The most surprising thing is this film is made by a man based upon the book by another very famous male writer. So is this is a limited male perspective on the challenges of women? Being a male, I’m not qualified to answer. At times the film’s depiction of women is most certainly grounded in a male perspective. However much of what the film explores feels relevant to the all-too-real threats that constantly loom over women.

As soon as the lead character receives the biological sign that “womanhood” is shortly pending, everyone around her seems to shift in motivations and interests regarding Valerie’s identity. Men seem intent on either seducing, molesting or raping her. And if that is not the intended goal, the sexual is over-ruled to hurt, theft, torture or murder. The women in Valerie’s world change as well. Women now seem to view her as a threat to their own individual identity and worth. Or they desire her in sexual ways that she can’t quite understand. She is an innocent, but those in her world no longer view her as such. She is now essentially “an object” on which they feel free to project love, lust, desire, anger, jealousy, pain, degradation, humiliation and even death. Valerie is no longer a sweet little girl. Valerie is now a potential prize or victim.

Beautiful Innocence is now an object available for the taking. Or so they think…
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

It is important to note that Valerie manages to escape and conquer all the challenges that come her way. She is no one’s victim. She sometimes falters as she attempts to understand or is sometimes even partially pulled toward some of the eroticisms — but those are fleeting moments. Valerie is steadfast in protecting herself. Her goal is to survive. And to survive with her dignity in place. Jaromil Jires offers one scene twice in the film: a small group of sensually enraptured women are engaging in an intense but somehow banal level of erotic play in a flowing stream of water. These women seem taken over by sensual delight in every aspect of themselves, each other, the sheer clothing that covers that wet bodies. They tease each other with soft kisses and even attempt to catch the fish swimming by to drop down their “barely-there” dresses and skin. We see Valerie walk past the stream twice from opposing sides of the stream. Our Valerie is clearly amused and passively interested in what these sultry lady-girls are up to. However, when one or more of these women notice Valerie and invite her to join them — Valerie becomes embarrassed or troubled and rushes her way past them. In between her her views of these lusty maidens, she runs across the river. As she crosses she notices the horror of one of the men from her world left for dead in the rapids of the stream that lead to these water vixens. Is there a connection to their perpetual state of wet eroticism and the dead man just a ways up stream?

Uh, oh. What fresh hell is this?
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

Sadly, Valerie’s “wonders” or “curiosities” is most likely going to be longer than a week. This surreal dreamscape now might be her fate. It is hard to determine the intention of the film’s ending. As her horrifying and eroticall-fueled week comes to an end, all she wants to do is escape back to the safety of her pristinely innocent bedroom that has been bathed in warm white light. Her bedroom may be small, but it contains all she loves and treasures. True, Valerie awakes in her own bed. The problem is that her bed is now placed in the wilderness of her villages’ forrest. It is here we leave her. Alone in her bed surrounded by the natural elements of the forrest. The ending is as beautiful as it is disturbing.

The dilemma Jaromil Jires’ film presents for modern viewing is almost as challenging as Valerie’s week. The part of “Valerie” was played by a 6th grade girl, Jaroslava Schallerová. The movie has no problem in sexualizing this child. Filmed in what can best be described as “dewey erotic lighting” — the actress is often semi or nude and constantly being pulled into sexual intended kisses and caresses. The film veers into the realm of the inappropriate in the way this child actor was filmed.

Valerie in the privacy of her innocent room strikes an alluring pose.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

The current view of Film Scholars is that Jires did not film the girl as a “sex object” but more as a “symbol of innocence” trapped in a world filled with sexual desires and constant threat. This defense is weak. I’m not able to buy-in or agree with this attitude.

In defense, the film never even approaches the level of “pornography” or “soft core adult entertainment,” but it does go too far. The actress now in her early 50’s has always been proud of her fleeting moment of fame. Her mother was present for the entirety of the shoot. A fairly recent interview with the adult woman discusses some of these concerns. Adding to my own conundrum regarding the way a child was filmed is the fact that I still admire Louis Malle’s 1978’s Pretty Baby. Brooke Shields was 13 when she appeared as a prostitute and is filmed nude several times. Pretty Baby is highly regarded in the world of film. Because no male touches her while nude, it falls into the legal realm. Brooke Shields, a highly educated and clearly intelligent woman does not look back on the experience as negative. Both of these women appear to be healthy and unharmed.

Welcome to the adult world in which your earrings as well as your innocence are up for grabs.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

I still wonder if either Ms. Shields or Ms. Schallerová would allow their 12 or 13 year old daughter to be in these films.

Louis Malle’s 1978 film, Pretty Baby, created some controversy at the time it was released. But it never generated any legal doubts that Brooke Shields was exploited. It remains a potent film, that feels suspect.

I would not. I somehow suspect they would not either. Audiences should be warned that this envelope is pushed. Though no where near to the point that Louis Malle pushed it in 1978.

Despite this ethically concern, I can’t help but love the artistry and the film itself. It is a highly effective surrealist attempt to capture both the human psychological and emotional experience of gaining a mature understanding of the world. A world that will very quickly become her/his own. In many respects the morphing of the familiar into the unknown or monstrous is resonating. Of course this lies at the heart of many fairy tales. And Valerie and her Week of Wonders never strays too far from a world that feels like that of twisted folklore. The film is edited and shot in ways that allow the viewer to constantly find new ideas or points with each viewing. It applies a circular sort of logic which invites multiple interpretations. Valerie and her Week of Wonders is a totally unique cinematic experience.

Now we fast-forward 44 years later and approximately 250 miles away to a modern-day village in Germany. Till Kleinert’s Der Samurai is a newer but equally puzzling re-examination of “identity” within a fairy tale-like world.

Trying to catch a wolf without harming it. But will that satisfy the deceptive wolf?
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

In his amazing and jolting directorial debut, Til Kleinert is exploring deception in a more familiar setting. It also should be noted that there is a growing concern in parts of Germany regarding wolves. For decades the German Wolf was near the point of extinction. In the last decade these wolves have returned to the point of near over-population. This has generated valid concern for the towns that exist near forested areas. While much of our fears regarding wolves is out of proportion to reality, when they start roaming in packs or are hungry — the question of “proportional fear” becomes trivial. We catch a glimpse of the German village in which this story takes place at the beginning. The homes are gathered closely together as if in group formation. The modern windows have metallic-like shades that close from the inside. This is not uncommon in Europe, but to our eyes it seems kind of creepy. This village would appear to be formed out of a shared fear of the woods that surround it.

Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014

Our innocent hero appears to be a sincere, kind, gentle and lonely man. There are also hints that he hides his intentions very well. He seems almost stubbornly stern when it comes to expressing himself. Jakob may be young but he is a grown man. He is a cop. And he takes his job more than seriously. Jakob seems truly dedicated to protecting the law those who reside in his environment. His village is experiencing a series of minor but annoying mishaps relating to a wolf. It seems the filmmaker’s intent that we notice that this community’s shared fear is aimed at a wolf — there seems to be no clear articulation of the plural version of wolf. This appears to be a fear of one wolf. Jakob does not seem to fear the wolf like his village. He seems more concerned about trying to stop the wolf from bothering the villagers. We first see him tying up sheer-thin bags of bloody raw meat from low hanging branches to allow easy access. Jakob appears to hope that these bags will satisfy the wolf and prevent it from lurking out into the village. Or not? We are presented with an unanswered question regarding our hero’s actions. Is this an attempt to keep the wolf out of the village or is this merely an attempt to feed the wolf.

Jakob’s concerns relating to this wolf are very different than his fellow residents. The threat of this wolf is taking on a strange level of horror. Knocking over outdoor trash containers and the alarmed barking of family dogs is resulting in a seemingly illogical reaction. Jakob not only seems perplexed by the level of fear this wolf is causing, he is at a loss at just how concerned everyone seems to be. Michel Diercks plays Jakob with a cautious and thoughtful performance. Diereses’ performance seems to hint at something that the viewer can’t quite understand. His concern for the wolf’s safety seems as odd as the villagers fear. Kleinert frames his story within the context of being afraid of something “out there” that is not only on the prowl but poised for menace.

Something is out there. Just beyond the trees. Is it a wolf? A werewolf or something altogether different?
Der Samuari
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

One evening as Jakob starts to leave the sherif office for home, he discovers a package delivered to his attention. The package is actually addressed to “Lonely Wolf.” And so the tale begins. Jacob receives a phone call. A whiskey and cigarette damaged female voice advises him of the address to which he needs to deliver the package. It is difficult to articulate why the phone call is so erie. Part of it is in the delivery of what is said and the other part is the way in which Jacob reacts. As we hear the caller’s voice it is clear that she is flirting, but also daring the cop to follow her directions. The package is for her and she strongly urges that he must deliver it to her. There is a tinge of cruelty in her chuckle as she provides her address.

Jacob seems more curious than concerned. It is a disturbing moment in a horror film that very quickly pushes the boundaries of tension to surprising level of creepy horror. As Jakob approaches the dilapidated old cottage occupying carrying the thin long package which he has been “advised” to deliver, a unexpected unease fills us. You don’t want Jacob to go in. You want him to call for ‘back-up.’ The cottage not only looks sinister, it feels sinister. Carrying the box up the seemingly grimly rotted stairs he soon meets the owner of the voice that called him. Sitting crouched in front of an old dresser mirror, her face is hidden. It is clear that she has been applying a great deal of make-up. An abandoned doll hangs by a noose. Pictures from fashion magazines hang around this obviously well muscled person. The pages have been defaced and are fading away. The room is damaged from years of neglect and water damage. It is impossible not to note that what appears to have been yellow wallpaper has been illogically covered with streaks of red. Blood red.

Pit Bukowski is getting ready to really give the villagers something to panic about…
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

It is difficult to pin-down what it is about this movie that is so unnerving. The two lead actors are great. The film is incredibly well styled. But Till Kleinert finds a way to really get under our skins. The villagers’ fear is not misplaced. Indeed, there is something waiting in the woods to roam out after sunset to wreck havoc upon their quiet little village. But is it not the wolf they have imagined. This wolf is a man made-up and wearing an elegant sort of long slip. The true object of fear is a homicidal and feral transvestite. As this visage pulls the huge samurai sword from Jakob’s package, we instantly know that this “something” is no longer happy merely causing havoc and generating this mini-societal fears. This is our wolf and it has a blood-lust of epic proportion. If you are thinking this subversion of fairy tale is mired in what can easily issue a reaction of concern, you are correct. Only the most homophobic of viewers will not feel a pang of “Political Incorrectness” warning flags poking at them from the screen. Before the audience has a chance to become offense, Kleinert’s film literally jumps into a frantic level of strange and undeniably fascinating horror film.

Jakob is fully aware of the potential for danger as this almost feral, androgynous and seductive figure carefully caresses her new weapon. He tries to talk this self-proclaimed Samurai out of jumping out of the house. Jakob attempts to apply logic that somehow feels confused. Der samurai seems to take on a sort of perverse beauty in his elegant white slip as well as a sense of supernatural strength. She has no time or interest in listening to Jakob’s concern and protests. She has an axe to grind with this tiny village cloaked away within the German forests. She is out for vengeance and blood.

Pit Bukowski as Der Samurai who takes no prisoners.
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

As tensions mounts so do the ever expanding Surrealist stylings. Der Samurai is almost unrelenting in generating our guilt and fear. And while the gore goes to extremes, it is intentionally unreal. Jakob follows this raging “wolf” down deserted streets filled with her violent vengeance. Everything has been slashed and torn up. And Jacob has forgotten his gun. It gradually becomes clear that the kindly Jakob is not as much “hunting” this wolf down, he is starting to encage in a grim sort of dance. This is both figurative and literal.

Facing the werewolf or an identity long repressed? Or maybe not.
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography| Martin Hanslmayr

As we follow this pursuit or dance, more and more of the the villagers are being laid to brutal waste. It may be silly and even look “unreal” but Der Samurai has entered into a truly disturbing frenzy. To be honest, there were more than a few times I had to ask myself, “Did that just happen?” And just as the audience thinks that it has got the whole thing figured out, Till Kleinert turns it all around again. This demented twist on the “fairy” tale continues to escalate along with our unease and fear. Jakob has no choice. He must stop this dance and slay this maniacal “wolf” in tranny clothing. As he approaches to to take this mythical evil creature down, we discover that Der Samurai has shed the costume. Ravenously eating the contents Jakob’s blood-drenched meat bag, Der Samurai is nude. It is a deliberate choice that Kleinert shows that our nude monster is now packing more than a huge sword. His “excitement” has swelled to form the potential for a whole other type of “swordplay”. This is only one of many darkly comic and inappropriate moments in the movie. Jakob is clearly more afraid of a penis erection than a samurai sword or the muscular threat of this wolf who we now know was only hiding in monster’s clothing. This is a problematically loaded bit of metaphor.

Feeding the wolf or attempting to put out the fire with gasoline. It doesn’t matter. Der Samurai is ready to fight our hero.
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

Jakob would at first seem to want to repress or stifle the beast that threatens his village. But in the end he must face the evil and destroy it. Once again a sort of circular logic is displayed. We do not know where this tale has taken us. The final shot of the film is as confusing as it is entertaining. The grande finale is really as surprising as it is awesome. As Jakob appears to go on full attack of the monster terrorizing the quiet village, the musical score gives sway to a silly and diametrically opposed pop song by The Ark. Suddenly Der Samurai slips into a sort of parody of 1980’s Rambo-like hero anthem. On paper is seems like a truly ludicrous idea, but in practice it is a magical way to relieve the audience tension and remind us that we are seeing a sort of fairy tale. The lessons of which only really reveal themselves after we achieve some distance from the work. Is there actually a wolf at all? Is our “hero” also our “monster?” It is unclear. Once again the Surrealistic circular logic prevents an established answer. However one very realistic idea is formed: When a society oppresses the individual and that individual gives in and represses their own identity — the results can be catastrophic. Eventually the needs of the “self” must be addressed in one way or another. More than likely the self will assert in a skewed ideology that not only matches the societal ideology, but surpasses it.

Slaying the Beast of the Village? Or not?
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

Der Samurai is wide open for interpretation. I’ve heard and read it described as “Queer Surrealist Horror” to a “perverse reworking of ‘The Big Bad Wolf.'” I do not agree with either label. This is a sleek and effective spin on folklore presented in both a Surrealist and Absurdist way. ,While Til Kleinert is willing to risk his metaphor and parable being misunderstood as “self-loathing” or “homophobic” or “misogynistic,” it clearly is not. Kleinert is willing to trust the intelligence of his audience to understand the film. This film is far too smart, polished and subversively rebellious to be considered as inappropriate art or offensive. This is a spin on a fairy tale and folklore is taken to an unexpected place. It is a thrilling and unforgettable film. Kudos to ArtSploitation for releasing it via VOD, DVD and Blu-ray. The Artsploitation label usually restricts itself to gore horror of the lowest denominator, but in this case they have helped secure the release of a valuable work of Art Horror.

One thing is for sure: There is ‘something’ on both sides of that window. And neither offer a ‘happy ever after’
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

Like Valerie and her Week of Wonders, Der Samurai is more of an experience than a typical narrative film. It washes over you. You are left both exhilarated and confused. Both of these film present themselves with a non verbalized, “Once upon a time…” and bring us to the conclusions that while the world offers us “choices” they are seldom easy to chose. To deny the reality of the deceptions that hide along our life paths is not only problematic — it is dangerous.

And like most fairy tales, these are not for children. In truth, the origins of fairy tales and folklore were really simple ways to explain the complexities of human existence and survival. These parables attempted to explain what is often unexplainable.

At the end of a journey, we may find our way back to bed. But our bed has been moved to a place than can offer no happy ending or safety. More to the point: there is no such thing as a “happily ever after.”

Fairy tales do not always offer happy endings. When viewed as initially intended, there was never such a thing as Happily Ever After.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík