The Babadook (2013) Movie Thoughts

Somewhere in South Australia, single mother, Amelia Vannick(Essie Davis) has seen better years.

Working at a nursing home for the elderly , struggling to raise her hyperactive six year old son, Samuel(Noah Wiseman) has begun to reach a breaking point. The loss of the boy's father on the way to his delivery in an accident has continued to haunt them both. Now manifesting itself in little Sam's borderline aggressive clinginess and desperation to protect his mother from unseen beasts. From uncomfortable hugs to improvised weapons wreaking havoc about every other corner of their lives, Amelia's life begins to resemble a classic powder keg situation as sleep deprivation begins to take hold. And it's about to get worse, when a mysterious pop-up book seems to magically appear on Sam's bookshelf. A sinister red book starring none other than a terrifying dark specter clad in black, known only as The Babadook. A book that promises to never go away, until the unthinkable has consumed them both.


Enter Jennifer Kent's small scale, but primally chilling allegory that proves beyond all doubt, that good horror is a game of understanding the terrors of daily life. From the opening frames on, there is no doubt that what we're experiencing is something that is so familiar, frankly because it is so close to so many of us. From Amelia's daily troubles of raising a son who seems on the brink every other moment, to working surrounded by reminders of what life she has forsaken to raise him, is rife with baggage so heavy that it's no wonder horror comes knocking. It's bad enough that the boy cannot celebrate his birthday on the day, but must share parties with the daughter of Amelia's seemingly more mobile sister, Claire. And that Sam's erratic behavior has garnered some disciplinary problems at school. Matters are reaching almost oppressive levels, and this is before any hint of the supernatural even arises. We are dropped square into the worst possible single parenthood scenario's deep waters before the dreaded shark arrives. And when he does, it feels like a powerful , inescapable abyss that scares in ways that few have in decades.


Dropped so sadistically into a spiritual deep end, while cruel in some ways, is precisely where the film lives and dies. There is a muted color palette that surrounds Amelia's life, like the last remnants of brightness to her world is on the verge of a fuse burnout. Right off the bat, we are in a place that is both cold, and disquieting. One of the many potent weapons in the film's arsenal, is something far too many pieces of horror tend to forget, environmental and lighting design. We are host to a sight and sound universe that is sensitive to Amelia's plight. It only bolsters the tension as her life begins to resemble a Von Trier film, complete with endless supernatural amounts of emotional torment. (which made the revelation that Kent spent some time studying/working with the danish auteur, make grand sense) And when we find ourselves largely trapped within the chilly halls of their home, the lighting and art direction take on a quiet, painterly menace that tightens its grip throughout. It only makes the unforgiving blackness of our titular villain that much more powerful. The film understands the history of horror, and milks it largely to great effect.


 But the crowning jewels of the film are truly Davis and Wiseman, who conjure up some truly astonishing performances as a tattered family on the verge of tragedy. Davis' Amelia, is such a delicate, demanding piece of work that could co easily have gone comic in other hands, but she comes off as completely relatable as she is granted every logical stage to an almost inevitable form when her resent and grief boils over. We can grieve for her, as well as beg for her to stop, and not for a moment lose that gravity. And on that note, she could not be more blessed in having Wiseman, who's Sam, is both one of the most unnerving and one of the most frighteningly effective child performances I have ever experienced. When he is a terror, he is a terror. And when he is achingly vulnerable, it's deeply uncomfortable. The film is so diabolical in some manners, that it's a miracle of casting that any kid would be able to deliver such incredible work.


It's a most interesting marriage, taking the spirit of scary tales from the past, transposing them to something as universal as single parenthood. So easily, the film could have taken a more exploitative tack. And yet the character sensitivity here never lets us the viewers off the hook. We are every bit as complicit by playing the voyeur to what is ostensibly something that happens more commonly than we care to let in. It's also telling that the film's stylings harken to the days when such parenthood was just becoming commonplace. As a child of a single parent, I too can see how the dynamic between mother and son could reach such troublesome lows. And considering that the children of that age are now the age of Amelia, the shoe has finally exchanged feet, and it is a sobering reminder. It's no understatement. This is classic, "old school", down to the marrow horror told with a 1970s performance and editing sensibility, wrapped in something altogether too understandable. Even as The Babadook chooses to go a more traditional genre route, it is done with class and empathy. Because, as the nightmare-inducing pop-up book suggests, the horror is already here, and it's not likely to ever go away.

Esoteric Discoveries: Upstream Color (2013)

Two complete strangers run across each other on the local metro, and spark up a most discordant and yet irresistible fondness. Both on the surface quite average, city professional types, it is also quickly revealed that their shared awkwardness carries with it a disturbing secret that if not faced soon, could manifest in disastrous ways. But this is merely the surface of the tale PRIMER helmer, Shane Carruth weaves in this borderline impenetrable offering. And it is not with any offhand sense of dismay that I express this confusion, but rather of feeling both distressed and thrilled that Carruth's follow up to perhaps the ultimate time travel film turns out to be anything resembling commercially safe, or comprehensible. Upstream Color is cold, calculated, and defiantly ambitious. And while It may not work completely, it is made with a sure hand that is incredibly rare.


Taking an almost Malick-eque approach to allowing the camera to play omnipresent observer, we are witness to some truly horrific acts in the first third that is meticulous to the point of obsessive. The initial 30 minutes involves the harvesting of a most unique form of blue plant that is digested by plant-eating mealworms. The worms are then used on unsuspecting city folk, who are soon rendered open to suggestion, and eventually released back to what wreckage remains of their former lives- with zero memory as to what happened to them.We are not made privy as to the identity of those who would do this, let alone why. They seem on the surface to be as benign as anyone we would meet outdoors, minus the creeping curiosity. The remaining moments of this first third of the film illustrates the fate of digital art producer, Kris(Amy Seimetz), who is subjected to systematic conditioning, and eventually used  in numerous financial crimes and rituals. Soon after, she is eventually "cured" by a local sound artist, and returns home, a shell of her former self with no memories of days past, and re-entry into a world that has become alien to her newfound behavior.

 And this is all before Kris meets Jeff (played by Carruth himself), a man from the city's law sector who seems just as broken as she is. Not much time passes before the two share a burgeoning relationship largely based on these huge missing sections of life and logic. They have a rough time conveying their detachment, and inner turmoil, and yet they are drawn together. Not much time passes before they truly feel as if they are the only two people capable of handling their altered psyches, awkwardness and all. The film seems primed to be discussing the onset of mental illness, and what we would do if we knew what was introduced into our bodies that caused this all to occur. If we were capable of seeking blame in a realm where more often than not, none can be made.


The rest of the film tinkers with the lives of these two as they seem almost subconsciously drawn to a nasty truth that could mean more than their newfound existence. Carruth isn't as interested in the answers so much as the questions in how a society could turn a blind eye to mankind's intervention of nature. While Kris once knew a life bound in vision and fantasy, she is soon host to a bevy of personal horrors. And Jeff's vast gulf of a life as a man of the legal world, there seems to be a constant scrambling of memories that he and Kris both seem incapable of knowing with a modicum of certainty. And with that observer's eye that Carruth and Co. are employing here, we are often left scrambling just as frantically as they are. It's not a puzzle to be solved, but an ever shifting sense of loss permeating every frame. While Kris is increasingly paranoid and internal, Jeff grows more frustrated with the gaps laid at both their feet. The compelling performances and overall ethereal gloom of the film creates the feeling of a series of very personal dreams. This is only made more troubling as we are given no island of reason to ground us. We're just as adrift as they are. It's not as interested in warmth as it is about allowing us to feel as helpless, yet resolute as the pair become over the film's length.



So when the film wanders from horror to almost parody of mumblecore drama, there seems to be a knowing jab being made. Much like how PRIMER characterizes its core conceit as something horrendously mundane, yet mysterious, Upstream takes independently financed breakthrough genre such as horror and mumblecore comedy, and plays with them in surprisingly fun but affecting ways. Carruth seems eager to do away with what has become something of a modern phenom as home video has gone streaming. With overt access comes saturation, and ultimately blandess, and somehow a lot of the film has a thinly veiled beef with it. All bound by a mostly droning score by Carruth(again), it is clear that this is meant to be an all-encompassing response to the scene over the last few years. The whole affair is a personal one.



And yet not all is congruent, yet how could it be considering the subject matter? The work is more an amalgam of ideas and concerns than a specific theme. There are moments when it is clearly turning tangential with its leads, rather than allowing the story to gel organically. The finale feels pretty forced and pat, while the use of Walden could be seen as entirely too on the nose for something so breathless everywhere else. So is it an exploration of the love lives of the mentally affected, or a rally cry for New Domesticity? I couldn't say. As capable of entrancing as it is of leaving viewers deeply unsettled, Upstream is a challenging piece of work that defies simple description. It dares you to explore, and to find your own thoughts in between, and come up with your own impressions post-viewing. Definitely not a film for every taste, but a welcoming dip into the uncanny for those with the inclination.