Nightbreed: The Director's Cut Hits Netflix

"Take me to Midian.."

It has been nearly 25 years since Clive Barker's much-anticipated monster epic faceplanted onto screens, bearing marks of studio tampering, leaving the celebrated maven of the fantastic unsure of his place in the horror pantheon. Cabal Cut, aside, his tale of one man's destiny as the leader of a lost civilization of monsters has long been held as one of the great missed opportunities in the genre world. And thankfully due to the efforts of Mark Miller and friends, the cut finally hit video outlets via Shout! Factory, and is now streaming via Netflix. And after years of lamenting what could have been, this teenage admirer of the film can finally rest easy in knowing that NIGHTBREED is as close to its initial vision as possible. And what comes of it, while still bearing the at-times dreadfully awkward mark of Barker's direction, it finally feels like a legitimate film.

Boone, is a hunky welder guy who's been suffering with years of bad dreams of a mythical realm where monsters reside. How little he is prepared to discover, that this haven for freaks and shapeshifters is in fact no myth. Unbeknownst to him, his current psychiatrist, Dr. Decker (a really creepy David Cronenberg) is less interested in treating him so much as taking him at his word as he plans to find this very real place, and let our hero take the fall for his own wave of grisly family murders. And despite the outside world's assumption that he has been killed as part of the mad doctor's plan, Boone's supportive singer girlfriend tracks him down to the abandoned graveyard that serves as the gateway to this shangri la for the unusual.

Poised to be the Star Wars or Lord Of The Rings of monster pics, we can at least now see what was intended, as we get more love story, and less leaping I
in and about within the narrative.

It's especially fun to watch within today's context of superhero film fever, this tale of ordinary beings regarding the unusual with both fear and envy. Despite the film's often clumsy story propulsion,  it's made pretty explicit, Barker's love for outsiders was powerful, and something to be celebrated. We get a great array of creatures and assorted exotic types living this idyllic harmony whilst hiding from a world that continues to judge them. And like any society,  there are always reluctant members. As well as those wishing they were part of it. Much like an X-Men tale, we are at the center of a comic struggle for identification in an era punctuated by intolerance.

As for the newly restored footage, at least half of it feels criminally missing from the theatrical cut. In tradition of major cuts being made to big pieces like these, much of it involves either a subplot, or a seemingly arbitrary element. And yet, a bulk of this material involves Boone, and his best lady, Lori. Much of it quite welcome, but in deep need of focus. When talking about prophetic nightmares, or about a destiny apart as hordes of "naturals" threaten the future, it works quite well. Now if only the awkward club scene, and drugged hallucinations went over as well. We even get a surprise death that almost renders a certain character  superfluous. While they are definitely welcome additions, they often feel like classic placeholders for richer, more nuanced moments.

But again, it's the unsettling visage of Cronenberg's twisted antagonist that echoes long after the piece ends. Those familiar with the legendary auteur, know how congenial and almost doctor-like he actually is. So his turn as what is a pretty nasty response to a decades worth of slasher film, is an indelible one.

Also worthy of consideration, is the dramatically recalibrated finale. While one could definitely feel it being hasty, it's an ending that gains one emotional victory over another. While we lose the cheap shock of the previous, we get an almost operatic denouement centering on the core relationship. It's a charming switch that feels like a dry run at a center that required a few more impassioned iterations.

While not the fantasy classic it could have been, Clive Barker's NIGHTBREED, remains a startling window into the possibilities of genre. And even as the superpowered gain ground on the mainstream, it's heartening to look back at a time when the geeks, the quiet, the odd, the nerdy actually carried weight within a certain community. And his CABAL book and film remain an important, and occasionally thrilling window into that era.

I'm happy it's back.

INTERSTELLAR (2014) Movie Thoughts

Ambition has it limits..

Echoing about in my mind as the final moments of Christopher Nolan's great attempt at a stylistic crossroads. Highly anticipated as a grand scale space drama set as the Earth seems set to close the curtain on humanity, INTERSTELLAR, is an epic fraught with balancing new frontiers of the celebrated director and the clearly human heartbeats intended for its original captain. Initially designed as a project for Steven Spielberg, what results from this much-touted hand-off, is a clear case of great talent/potentially wrong footwear. Despite all the technical mastery at work throughout the film's sprawling 169 minutes, it becomes easy to see the divide between the often sentimental Hollywood giant, and the cold, calculating new king.

Matthew McConaughey, is former expert pilot and engineer, Cooper, who discovers a secret mission to save humanity as unprecedented blight seeks to end all human life on Earth. In a time when corn is all that remains as a viable crop, and the Apollo moon landing is taught to have been a hoax, Cooper's dreams for the lives of his young son, and particularly curious and headstrong daughter, Murphy, are largely being rerouted toward agrarian lifestyles. So when the single father and kids run across clues leading to NASA's clandestine and clearly dangerous mission, Cooper is seen as the last viable candidate to pilot the long distance ship, the Endurance. The goal: to traverse the gap in spacetime in hopes of finding a habitable world for what remains of the quickly dying human race. Based upon the work of elder scientists, including old friend, Professor Brand (Michael Caine), the small crew which includes his daughter, Amelia Brand(Anne Hathaway), Romilly(David Gyasi), Doyle (Wes Bentley), and geometrically fascinating military robot, TARS (Bill Irwin) launch for one last gamble.

And while a great deal of the film offers up sumptuous and occasionally chilling detail regarding space travel, and alien environs, Nolan (and his brother/collaborator Jonathan) finds himself occasionally sidetracked by familiar fetishes. And while this can be expected of many great filmmakers, there are times when it simply doesn't gel with the larger whole. A problem that often dogged their last film, the obligatory, Dark Knight Rises (2012). Beginning with a mostly strong first third on Earth, the film soon hits rocky places once the often enticing talk of hard science runs headlong with the emotional core. As witnessed in past works like INCEPTION(2010), there is an almost reflexive queasiness that creeps in as the debate between theory and emotion are meant to collide. It seems to be the film's main thrust and yet both ends of the equation never seem to gather enough steam upon one another as equal combatants. Nolan's films are often meticulous exercises of conflicting ideas, and yet this time they seem unwilling to play ball as hard as previous films have displayed.

So when looking back at the film's initial existence as a Spielberg project, it's pretty easy to see where this could have all gone. But once it comes our way, the need for tangential storytelling rears its overwrought head, often sabotaging some truly graceful moments. There are stretches here that are simply daunting to contemplate being in the hands of just about any high grade auteur. From often jaw-pulling zero gravity sequences, to some utterly beautiful visions of alien worlds, there is much to behold in terms of cinematic majesty. However, this often comes apart at the hands of a script that seems hellbent on second-guessing itself. The most egregious example taking place in the final third of the film, where an uncredited starring role seeks to circumvent the mission, leading to an episode that feels completely under thought and unnecessary. It simply comes out of nowhere, almost taking the wind out of whatever sails the story was flying with.

As to whether or not this move is completely fatal to the piece may vary from one viewer to another. But considering the inspired finale, all that is left is a feeling like the waterworks have simply found themselves parched. There's no reason why this should have been the end result. And one cannot help but feel like the previous false note is largely to blame. If one is to play a film like a puzzle, every piece needs to count, and this mistake feels like a poorly cut centerpiece to an otherwise serviceable bastion of questions.

And it's a real shame too, because the cast truly brings their A-game to the proceedings. Especially McConaughey, who's gravely earnestness and vitality makes for a potent lead. Hathaway does exceptional work where she can, as does Jessica Chastain, who both feel underserved as actual characters and more like many Nolan females; as merely symbols. Also worthy of note, is Bill Irwin's voice performance as former marine robot, TARS, who is an occasionally strong counterpoint to classic spacefaring AI such as HAL 9000.

But where the film really fails to connect, is in how it maintains the core relationship between Cooper and his daughter. It's clearly something someone like Spielberg could do blindfolded, and yet Nolan breaks out the emotional big guns, and never seems to hit as hard as he does early on. The piece finds itself far more interested in debates regarding quantum theory, and openly discussing the theme rather than showing us the theme in action. While that might have worked in INCEPTION, it simply will not do with such a pared-down, more family-centric story. The fit between director and material never seems congruent, and it hurts more than hinders in sections. It's like a dancer sporting cleats, the end result is often a graceless affair.

So in all, INTERSTELLAR boasts sights and sounds never experienced in a grand space odyssey, but it rarely reaches beyond its own need to sidetrack or obsess. There are occasionally beautiful moments and ideas at play as we see and hear things we could only sum up in our wildest dreams. It's just too bad they often can't get past the pitching stage. Interstellar, for all it's yearning for the grand and intimate, intermittently sputters when it should soar.     

Underworld Beauty (1958) Movie Thoughts

Regardless of what Seijun Suzuki has stated during many an interview, there was always something striking about his works. And this is even before his cult-legend streak throughout the 1960s as something of a stylistic firebrand, tinkering with staples of crime drama, not to mention with the possibilities of narrative film itself. But before his long road to being considered a film fan darling, his earliest days filming for Nikkatsu presented a great deal of effective meat and potatoes material for him to work with. Being the classic method, knowing the standards before blasting them, is integral here as a young Suzuki is given chance to play ball with the best. Enter the shadow-drenched, Underworld Beauty. A noir piece of the most classic ilk, translated through a very wild, lush, and eager lens.

Back in the city after three years in prison, Miyamoto (Michitara Mizushima) seeks to honor a fellow thief who has fallen on hard luck after their last score by way of a hidden satchel of diamonds. Reconvening with old gang boss Oyane(Shinsuke Ashida), a plan to sell the rocks goes south when an intervening party crashes the sale, leaving the hard luck friend on the edge of death, and the diamonds deep in his belly. Suddenly, it's a regular greed-for-all, as Miyamoto struggles to reclaim the quarry and to honor his debt as allegiances reveal their true natures. And with his friend's delinquent younger sister(Mari Shiraki) entrenched in the plot, honor is put to heavy task. Crossbreeding tried and true hard boiled character with an unexpected visual ambition, Beauty plays sly in ways that both compliment and subvert the noir subgenre.

Suzuki does ample work here, creating new renditions of then already famous archetypes. Especially in the form of Mizushima's world weary Miyamoto. A vision of a thief borne out of necessity rather than greed, his is a quiet, understated performance that grows on viewers on levels bordering on stealth. By the finale, it becomes hard not to feel wholly invested in his quest to infiltrate a hungry nest of wolves in the name of a friend. Equally potent, is Ashida's Oyane as a man driven to the opposite by similar circumstances. Patient, but no less unflagging in his doggedness, his is a quietly menacing piece of work. Also worthy of note is Kaku Takashina's grinning creep, Osawa, and Shiraki, playing the wayward Akiko with unfettered fierceness. Even Hiroshi Kondo's borderline possessed bad boyfriend, Arita makes a solid impression under Suzuki's watch. 

So when considering how well the cast works, much of it is due to the director's already evident talent for visual power. As much as he wrings the best possible performances out of his cast, there is also an almost greedy drive to make every crowded, and dank environment of the film pop with detail. Being his first work to be made with "Nikkatsuscope", allowing him to paint some truly impressive images. For the kind of material he is working with, it becomes mere window dressing for what he does with space and objects, as if eager to embellish the working script by Susumu Saji. Deep focus captures great amounts of nightlife, as well as the seedy underbelly Miyamoto must infiltrate. It's so potent that once we reach the film's ultimate climax, we are treated to a most welcome visual summation of all that has occurred. Delving so far into the realm of what diamonds mean, versus their original state. Our hero must face hell before reaching for any light of redemption. It's a little marvel of a final act.

So for a one-time studio lifer like Suzuki, it's easy to merely pass judgment on a film as this as being something of a workman era mark. But to do this would be a grand disservice, as Underworld Beauty remains an enjoyable romp throughout. Fans of his later, more subversive work might do well to dig a little further back into the formative years, and find this one a serviceable case of charting the cartography of crime cinema. Just solid enough to be great mainstream entertainment, and rich enough to be considered a thrilling hint of the rambunctiousness to come. At the finale, when sunlight has finally come to our eyes, it is even here that confinement awaits all who seek paradise within the same pool. Suzuki seemed to understand this quite well. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before escape in a most colorful fashion felt necessary.

Impulse Explorations: YOU'RE NEXT (2011)

 After years of peeking into the more highly spotlighted corners of the horror film universities, seeking new voices who would carry on the legacy of a great few others, I can say with great confidence that the works of Adam Wingard tend to leave me dry. If he were a filmmaker who's voice wished to usher in a new era of slasher thrills with a new twist, it could certainly do with a little more sense of gravity than a cursory love of an idea.As it is, You're Next plays a lot like a junior college final with cinema grade visuals.


Driving into the Missouri mountains to visit his well-off parents and family, Crispian (A.J. Bowen), along with his former student-turned girlfriend, Erin (Shami Vinson) unwittingly arrive as bloody murder hits the vicinity. Isolated from much of civilization, the immediately dysfunctional gathering is quietly being stalked by a group of masked killers hard set on killing everyone in attendance. But upon the moment that the party has turned fight for survival, it become clear that there is more than meets the eye with these armed fiends(and that Erin is no ordinary fiance). Attempting to subvert the "home invasion" subgenre ala The Strangers, or even Inside, Wingard's You're Next, flounders about, never finding itself out of first gear.


The film plays out like the blueprint for a family drama satire that never figures out how to make the humor sing. One can witness the intent, but the script by Simon Barett, never sees a way to play on the dynamics between Crispian's family members as his partner haplessly witnesses. So it eventually gives up, and expects the audience to just go with the blood as if it were the only attraction worth attention. There is a definite love for the visceral on display. But without the characters complimenting the premise, it all feels more like an exercise in sadism where it could have easily been blackly comic. Fellow genre cineastes, Joe Swanberg, and Ti West, do what they can, hamming it up in supporting roles that border on thud-inducing. Not to mention Upstream Color's Amy Seimetz, and  horror veteran, Barbara Crampton come off a little undercooked. We have a potential for ensemble that is never milked to any satisfying effect. Again, we get the idea of a film, but aside from the expected gore, there's little else holding matters together.


Making matters even more bland, as good as Vinson is here, there's never any doubt as to how everything is going to play out. It also plays heavily into an almost survivalist fetishism that feels like the main reason for the film's existence. As the killers close in on the remaining family members in the estate, all we get are the expected knock down drag-outs, and  Home Alone-esque setups.While it could make for an interesting action character, it's hardly a source of depth for what could have been much more. Which again plays into the films of Wingard, who seems to carry some very rudimentary ideas for gender roles. There is an almost frat boy worldview being conveyed that never allows the characters to forge anywhere beyond simple, and often distasteful types. While that might make for definable heroes and cannon fodder, it does very little to make them compelling. When sarcastic horror comedies like the original April Fool's Day(1986), is a better example of this kind of story, it's time to worry.


Considering the decades-plus of cinematic bloodletting, one would think that someone would be informed that we would need more than this. Oh, we do, Wingard. We really do.

Guardians Of The Galaxy (2014) Is A Charming Renegade Triumph

I grew up around weirdos.

No adolescence is easy. Let's be fair. But having grown up in an area where your options were limited, a good companion was often a lucky break. Being a member of the latchkey kid generation, it was that chance meeting of that other kid from the neighborhood who embraced their oddness that would make for a startling new chapter. Whether we were children of divorce, ostracized for being into "weird" comics, movies, and loved talking about them. Game heads, Ritalin kids, pranksters, mischief makers with a yen for fire. Solace was often found in the presence of buddies who would miraculously understand where you were coming from. And at times, kids who would know a great deal more than you. Childhood was largely populated by what came to be known as the dregs of school society. Many in the upper echelons would know of us, but would sooner not be seen around them. Perhaps living with this tiny, unspoken inkling, that they wished to spend more time around us.

I grew up around weirdos.

Whether they be your classic comic book reading, movie loving nerds, to the kids who grew up ready and willing to play havoc with the cards they were dealt, they were often real, and complimentary to fellow odd souls. Dysfunctional, perhaps. But often dedicated, and understanding in ways many grownups seemed to have long forgotten.

As such, pals and I loved the Drive-in, and early VHS experience. It was a ritual of sorts, not to mention something of a soothing experience, partaking in the ritual of watching something strange. Something dangerous. Something inspiring. While many of the films cannot be claimed to be that of high artistic merit, there was something almost kin about watching said films. They felt renegade, excluded, laughable in ways that perhaps mirrored certain souls. There was something within the realm of the exploitation cheapie that felt like home.

Films can often be seen as windows into their makers. And as such, we can feel the perspective and personality thriving within even the most dysfunctional work. Especially the ones that come together successfully. This is especially true of low budget film. No matter how strange, perverse, or eyebrow-raising, few feelings beat that of a connection between viewer and a functional genre movie,

All of this needs to be stated up front, and without apology before discussing James Gunn's first foray into the big time. That we can at last live in a world where a Troma alumni can be drafted into the ranks of MARVEL's creative circle, and successfully conjure a loving tribute to the outcast in all of us with an unerring indie spirit. Well, it's nothing short of miraculous.

I could go on, and echo many sentiments shared by peers and friends. I could beam about how Guardians Of The Galaxy, is a team-up tale on par with some of the very best tales of the fantastic captured on film. That it is the anti-Avengers, and this is meant in the best complimentary sense. I could rant and rave about how beautifully the cast works together, as well as on their own. Spend time elaborating how much I love seeing Chris Pratt make for a most winning lead whom I wish had more screen time. About how much Zoe Saldana, Bradley Cooper, Dave Batista, and Vin Diesel make for an instantly charming team comprised of broken, and lonely souls. How great it is to see Lloyd Kaufman and Michael Rooker in a film of this size. How brilliantly realized the world of the film works, and how nicely it opens of the Marvel canvas in ways never seen before. How Ronan The Accuser(Lee Pace) best represents the nerd that never sees past themselves as an answer to their pain. How the film makes the best possible case for very real nerds (and nerd friendships) in all of comic book cinema. 

About the only criticism that could actually be lobbed at the film, is simply that despite the two-hour plus running time, one couldn't be blamed for wanting more. Well-balanced and unabashed, Gunn's first foray into mega-franchise cinema is a spiritual triumph for the little ones. A validation of the often unspoken majority, even in an era where the term, nerd, seems to have lost all meaning. And this is coming from someone with very little prior knowledge of the source material. It transcends, and speaks to a spirit often ignored by genre cinema. More than this, it's a celebration of outcast families everywhere.

This is Drive-in/VHA cinema at it's biggest, wildest, wooliest, and most sincere. Time to break out the champagne dated 1988. Been a long time coming.

Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes (2014) Is Genre At Its Most Important

Division between background and culture. Belief in the ability to overcome such division. The myth of the known other.  Our lesser selves, desperate for simple answers. The allure of technological solutions at the cost of fellow beings. Future generations physically and philosophically hanging in the balance. An abyss that threatens all when gravity becomes far too much to withstand.  We see this on every news source, every third or fourth tweet, hear about it through friends and family. A seemingly endless wave of hate, coupled with escalation by way of ever advancing death machines. These are at the heart of this weekend's big theatrical release, and I am still reeling from its effects.


Time for a big admission: Despite the surprise love many have for Rupert Wyatt's Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes (2011), I still find it to be a competent, but often hobbled first entry in this new generation of installments to the classic franchise. While it does so much to remove the distaste experienced while viewing the much lesser Tim Burton retelling of 2001, it often feels constructed by committee, and suffers from some of the more egregious cases of fan pandering imaginable. The shining success of Rise, comes from the character work, especially in Andy Serkis's portrayal of future ape icon, Caesar. Watching him grow from lab chimp, to family member, to leader of a simian revolution was a marked improvement. And one that connected well enough to start the tale from a perfectly understandable place of kinship between hyper-intelligent apes, and the humankind which will inevitably tilt over in monkey favor. Gripes of annoying wall to wall references aside, Rise remains a surprising prequel with enough dramatic groundwork for an even greater story.


Enter Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes.


Ten years after the events of Rise, Caesar and his surviving society of apes have now nestled deep into the woods overlooking San Francisco, and have created a functioning civilization far from what remains of humanity after the so-called "Simian Flu"(the human-made ALZ-113) all but wipes them out completely. Catching up with Caesar and his people, we are introduced to them during a hunting party, seeking food when it becomes clear that his leadership has become a foundation upon which all apes could co-exist. "Ape Not Kill Ape" In fact, when Caesar is asked about his feelings on his human upbringing, he claims to miss them from time to time, but feels that they are but a memory. Humans have become a footnote in their history. That is, until Caesar's son, Blue Eyes and his friend Ash (son of the first film's Rocket) are found by a small group of humans near the foot of their mountain. A shot rings out, and certainty is blasted away, as it comes to light that the remaining survivors of the Simian Flu apocalypse are in fact living within the ruins of the city, armed, and afraid.

Led by a once family man named Dreyfus (Gary Oldman), the remnants of SF humans are tattered, strained, and desperate. Low on gas powered energy, and portable tech, Dreyfus and company seek to reach the local dam in the hills in hopes of making contact with any remaining human outposts. Naturally, the ape society is situated perfectly between these two points of life. The mentioned gunfire comes from the hand of Carver(Kirk Acevedo), one of many ready to draw a gun at what he sees to be the source of his life's misery. He is not alone, as we learn that many in the human compound, including Dreyfus, see apes as the very cause of all that has befallen humankind. A shared lack of faith leads some toward a violent resolution should the apes not wish for human intervention within their young world in the mountains. Not all in the initial group encounter are as terrified of the almost speech-capable ape society. Malcolm (Jason Clarke) and a few others see the apes as special, and likely capable of reason. So when Caesar sees reason to quell the tension among his own, the sentiment of fear lives on in the form of Koba, a bonobo, who in the first film displayed scars of years of mistreatment at the hands of human scientists. It is in this ingrained tension between both species that drives Dawn toward something far more prescient than a mere AVATAR-esque tale of moral oversimplification.


The addition of Matt Reeves into the Apes fold, is an inspired, and proven choice here as his work with a script by Rise's Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver (rewrites by Mark Bomback) harkens to the best moments from the original, with a sense of clarity that is deeply modern and affecting. The initial half hour is extraordinarily unlike typical blockbuster fare, and is so patient with character work, that it becomes far more exciting to know where each one is coming from by merely observing mannerisms. Confident mastery of visuals, performance, score (Michael Giacchino at his understated best)and an incredible sense of dread seeps through every pore of the setup, making it one of the more distressingly beautiful ones ever executed. We fully know who everyone is, we know the stakes, and we know..that none of this can end well.



As hinted at, Dawn also takes an almost Dark Knight route and surpasses it, in that it never lets either side off the hook. For all of Caesar's passion for understanding between ape and human, there is much for him to still learn as apes like Koba cannot see past humanity's terrible tendencies. And for Malcolm and his family, a need to see their faith through whereas Dreyfus and Carver see only a threat. Paradoxes inherent in both camps, only made worse by the revelation that the human compound is carrying within it an armory capable of all out war. The trust of an open hand versus the swift justice of an automatic rifle. The film is far more concerned with the nature of humankind versus its own fears. It even goes so far as to explore what happens when the words of peace can be reappropriated in the name of conflict. How easily we forget. And how easily we can so easily write off the other in the name of returning to a life lived in blissful ignorance of others. As if that ever guaranteed lasting inner peace. Much like how superhero works like X-Men attempt to evoke mental imagery of classic schisms such as those between Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King, we finally have a big budget film willing to more clearly explore the allure of violent retribution over a long road to peace.

A push button solution. A trigger for happiness.

We can talk here about how impressively constructed a great deal of this really is. How magnificent the imagery plunges its ways into the mind long after viewing the film. How astounding the apes are, and how beautiful their fur reacts to natural phenomenon. How both Andy Serkis and Tony Kebbell(Koba), with the help of WETA, and various artists convey the best and worst in us in ways that even most human acting fails to encompass. How our kids are often trapped,and occasionally cursed by the prejudices and fears of our parents. How the inevitable battle between human and ape is the stuff of nightmares. How the film offers up the best parable for conflicts that are happening miles away from us as media outlets often take merely one side, never considering that both to all sides truly want similar things. This is a blockbuster with a greater deal on its mind than most, and it expresses them with conviction and clarity we simply don't get in many places outside of literature.

It has been years since a studio release did this to me, and I cannot wait to experience it again. Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes, is that rare example of what big genre film is capable of being. It is a modern allegory of often shattering impact, and I cannot recommend it more.

Tsukamoto Revisited: GEMINI (1999) A Prophet Goes Mainstream

As previously mentioned, the filmed works of Shinya Tsukamoto are by and large concerned with the paradoxical nature of the "successful" japanese person, versus their innermost selves who are seemingly being dragged behind. So when given the chance to explore this conflict with a slightly larger budget than ever before, his first foray into vibrant color is ironically set in the days prior to the advent. Loosely based upon a tale by the legendary Edogawa Rampo, GEMINI tells the story of Meiji era doctor Yukio Daitokuji (Masahiro Motoki), and his growing divide between his devotion to his practice, and to the powerful of the community. Seemingly unfazed by pride and disdain for those lesser in social stature, his charmed life as an heir to a respected physician is suddenly made hell by way of a malevolent doppelganger. And all the while, the mystery behind his beautiful amnesiac wife (Ryo) finds itself key to the storm. His denying of the poor as plague threatens to harm all throughout the region summons up secrets thought to have been buried in the name of the doctor's success. And as matters spiral, it becomes clear that the worlds of Rampo and Tsukamoto might very well be cut from the same cloth.


His world shattered, and now cast out of his own home, the doctor comes to the revelation that this double is vying for his wife, and with possible good reason. While languishing for a return to his life from the bottom of a long abandoned well, Daitokuji must not only contend with a double hellbent on usurping his life as a Tokyo doctor and husband, but of some truly disturbing facts about the world he and his family struggled to create. Beginning with a bizarre stench that begins to hover over his practice, and eventually the death of his secret-bearing parents, the doctor's place in the nature of community is placed headlong into a funhouse of mirrors scenario where nature was never far from reclaiming what pride had sought to cut away. 


The mystery and fury behind the tale feels very much like a tailor-made prequel to Tsukamoto's film output. His direct phrasing regarding Daitokuji and his relationship with his wife is a perfect seed for the cybernetic nightmares to come in the 1990s. We are given time to take in the growing divide occurring between the rich and poor, and the attitudes that pervade. Just enough to imply that Rin has the outsider's view, which plays heavily into the disruptions that begin to avalanche over the course of the story. Tsukamoto takes great advantage of playing with time and perspective without much of the hard-edged experimentation of his earlier films. And even so, his trademark handheld imagery and post film ADR work keeps matters feeling that indie aura. Especially unique to this period, is the lush color work which was a bold move. As if the world were a more lively place before greed and entitlement overtook the land, bleeding the color out. Acted as if part of an old world play, the broad gestures of Motoki, Ryo, Tadanobu Asano, and the rest of the cast embody the colorful landscape of the film in the spirit of a nightmarish traveling band of performers not unlike the circus we experience within the story. Tsukamoto understands his roots. And considering the release year (amidst the burgeoning J-Horror boom), there certainly was a yearning for implanting an origin story for contemporary terrors.

And judging from GEMINI, that terror is part and parcel with humankind.