The Cabin In The Woods

Let’s get one thing straight: telling you the basic premise of The Cabin In The Woods cannot be considered a ‘spoiler’. The ‘twist’ is revealed approximately eleven seconds into the film and heavily hinted at in the trailer. Regardless, this review will steer clear of blatant signposting in favour of ham-fisted hinting.

As the title suggests, The Cabin In The Woods is at least, in part, a generic teen slasher flick. Utterly shamelessly, director Drew Goddard throws every cliché in the book at the first ten minutes. You could tick them off on a list: road trip to a relatives’ cabin; slack-jawed yokel issuing ominous warnings; creepy old toys; virginal girl in her underwear; pot-smoking stoner; nerdy bookworm; sporty jock and a girl with extremely loose morals and extremely small shorts.

Where the movie departs from now familiar tropes of the genre is in its knowing deconstruction of the conventions of such slasher films. Winking lustily at the audience, Goddard uses very deliberate distancing devices to place them outside of the action looking in – and gives the viewers far more information than the characters themselves are privy to.

It’s an extremely pacy, gory romp with plenty of laughs and some jumpy moments. At times it’s silly, predictable and a little immature – but that’s all part of the satirical fun. And at one point it looks as if something really clever is about to happen. Sadly it all starts to fall apart at that point as the premise loses its momentum and the production crew start splurging the budget on dodgy cameos and ropy CGI. It’s a shame it runs out of steam so quickly – it’s a film with enormous potential and hints at good things to come from its first time director.

If you’re a fan of gratuitous blood, nudity and zombies, you could do a lot worse than avoiding any more of the publicity for The Cabin In The Woods, leaving your brain at the door and enjoying it for the fun experience that it is. But don’t expect a satisfactory conclusion.

The Woman In Black

Since its publication in 1982, Susan Hill’s novel The Woman In Black has been adapted extremely successfully for radio, television and, most notably, for the stage. Here, director James Watkins brings this most British of ghost stories to the silver screen in conjunction with that most British of film studios – the newly revitalised Hammer.
The Woman In Black tells the tale of young widower Arthur Kipps (Daniel Radcliffe).

He’s a lawyer spending time away from his young son for the first time – sent to tidy up the affairs of the recently deceased Mrs Drablow. Her home, a huge Edwardian pile located on in the middle of swampy marshland stands detached and isolated by a tidal causeway. The nearest townsfolk are less than hospitable – leaving Arthur with little support when strange things begin to happen on Eel Marsh Island.

There is nothing new here. Fans of classic horror will recognise all the standards of the genre: creaky rocking chairs and creepy children, spooky toys and terrible taxidermy, noises in the night and movements in the shadows, grieving parents and possessed mothers. Central to it all is Radcliffe’s Arthur: a subdued and controlled performance which hints at a maturity beyond the actor’s tender years. Sadly his age remains a problem: he’s simply not old enough to be entirely convincing as a bereaved father.

That’s not to say that The Woman In Black is a poor film. Far from it. It wears its influences well and upholds the proud tradition of haunted Hammer houses. The supporting cast is suitably grizzled, the atmosphere is genuinely creepy and the direction entirely convincing: Watkins has great pedigree in the genre. Whilst it’s not at all original, it’s good to see something so resolutely old-fashioned in an era where 3D torture-porn has become decidedly stale.

Retreat

For a first time director, assembling a cast containing Cillian Murphy, Jamie Bell and Thandie Newton is quite a coup. But Carl Tibbetts, who also wrote the screenplay for Retreat, seems to have taken it in his stride. With a small budget, a small set and a small cast he allowed the cast space to improvise and came away with an accomplished first feature which will surely see him in demand for bigger and more ambitious projects.

Retreat sees a grieving couple's healing holiday hijacked by what may or may not be a madman. Martin (Murphy) and Kate (Newton) are the couple in question, Bell the blood-stained intruder. Bursting in on the pair as they mourn their lost child, he regales them with the unlikely tale of lethal local virus from which he must protect them. Can he be trusted or are his motives more sinister?

It almost goes without saying that getting the characters to their isolated cottage on an uninhabited Hebridean island is a clear contrivance. Not that it really matters in the grand scheme of things. The point is that they are alone and unreachable when their peace is interrupted. Indeed, many films have made much less original attempts to create such a situation.

That said, there are some unforgiveably clunky scenes between Martin and Kate as their fraught relationship is played out. The worst of these occurs when the audience is made aware of Kate's inner feelings via the words she type on her laptop: clumsy exposition at its finest. Martin's obvious exasperation at his wife was easy to empathise with: Newton's Kate is particularly whiney and irritating.

Thankfully, the film becomes much more satisfying when it essentially becomes a three-hander. The arrival of the bloodsoaked Jack (Bell) injects a sense of urgency and intrigue which is much needed given how difficult it is to care about Martin and Kate's relationship problems.

Whether Jack can be trusted or not is unclear. His tale of a fatal airborne virus sounds unconvincing, but his conviction and military bearing lend him a terrifying credibility: Jamie Bell's intense performance is genuinely frightening. Martin is convinced and they set about sealing the cottage off to protect themselves from contagion.

What follows is a claustrophobic study of how people react under extreme pressure and duress. Predictably, the dynamics of the relationships changes throughout and there are twists and turns a-plenty. Sadly, the only character in the film worth caring about is Martin. He's a decent but ineffectual man (which explains why he's so easily impressed by the hyper-efficient Jack). Kate, on the other hand is too dislikeable to invest any emotion in. It wouldn't have been much of a film if she'd died early, but it wouldn't have upset anyone either.

The most interesting character, though, is Jack. Perhaps representative of military figures who've suffered psychological or physical trauma, he's chillingly unbalanced and seems incapable of relating to the civilian couple in terms they'd understand. Whether intentional or not, it's an interesting persective on a character so disturbed and paranoid that truth and lies may (or may not) be one and the same.

The twists and turns which follow are nothing if not predictable and it would be a fool who didn't expect there to be some kind of twist at the conclusion. It's sad that when it arrives it merely exposes some pretty gaping holes in the plot. Still, with a superior cast providing reliably good performances, Retreat manages to elevate itself above the average. A decent first effort from Tibbetts which hints at more to come.

Kill List

Bucking the trend for generic horror remakes or cringe-worthy 3D, Kill List presents audiences with something entirely new. Whilst clearly owing a large debt to The Wicker Man, it takes the horror genre in an uncomfortable new direction, drawing the audience into a kitchen sink drama with lashings of menace and scenes of almost unbearable tension.

Opening with an extremely long domestic scene, director Ben Wheatley begins to pile on the fraught sense of claustrophobia which characterises the movie from the very outset. Jay (Neil Maskell), an ex-squaddie on civvy street, is a tightly wound individual – constantly on the brink of volcanic eruptions. As he and wife Shell (Myanna Buring) host a dinner party for friend Gal (Michael Smiley) and his new partner, Fiona (Emma Fryer) grievances simmer just beneath the surface. It’s almost too real and clearly chock full of improvised dialogue. The camera lingers slightly too long on faces and reactions, the food is clearly being digested. When one barbed insult too many falls from Shell’s lips, Jay flips violently.

Becalmed by the laconic Gal, the two discuss returning to work – a priority for Jay whose lavish lifestyle has seen he, Shell and their son Sam fall into financial trouble. It quickly becomes clear the two mates are hitmen – and they are soon back in the saddle, accepting a ‘kill list’ from their mysterious employer. There will be three jobs before their employment finishes.

It seems like pretty standard stuff – two hitmen reuniting for one last job. It’s much more than that, however. From the extended opening it’s clear that Wheatley’s intention is not to create a paint-by-numbers thriller. Instead he devotes time to drawing the audience into Jay and Gal’s world. The handheld camera constantly keeps the viewer on top of the action and the occasional eruptions of violence keep them on the edge of their seat.

The acting is uniformly excellent. Maskell and Smiley quickly create an entirely believable friendship founded on shared experiences, punctuated with violence and love in equal measures. And there’s just enough evidence to suggest Gal has more than a platonic interest in Jay’s wife. It’s a multi-faceted relationship the likes of which is seldom seen in the genre – or any other.

As the film evolves it maintains the personal interest, exploring (but never judging) the two protagonists as they embark on their paid killing spree. At times their morals are questioned – as are the viewers’ – and Wheatley makes no attempt to provide answers as Jay goes spectacularly ‘off list’. The violence is realistic, brutal and visceral – but occasionally the motives behind it are more ambiguous.

The pace quickens as the film nears its denouement, moving in mysterious and creepy new directions until a thrilling and unsettling climax. But it’s the style of the piece which marks Kill List out: creepy, claustrophobic and unapologetic. Wheatley’s even brave enough to leave some questions defiantly unanswered. Thrilling stuff from a real British talent.