The Unrepentant Cinephile

by Jason Coffman

  There’s nothing much new in The Lazarus Effect for anyone who has watched any horror/sci-fi films. This is pretty standard “they tampered in God’s domain” stuff for the most part, but it does some things differently that many films of this type tend to bungle. The two most immediately noteworthy are the cast and the science. For a low-budget horror film, The Lazarus Effect has a surprisingly solid cast. In addition to leads Duplass and Wilde (Duplass in particular gives a performance the material doesn’t really deserve), Donald Glover and Evan Peters play the members of their research team and Ray Wise appears in a highly-billed cameo that is brief but memorable. The cast lends its simplistic characters more weight than they would have had otherwise, and more helpfully makes them all likable and empathetic. The less obvious improvement the film makes is in its science, which feels much more grounded and believable than in most films of this type. It’s still probably mostly word salad that sounds convincing, but at least it seems like the filmmakers made an effort toward establishing some kind of credible science instead of just assuming the audience would buy whatever they put in the character’s mouths.

  That said, though, The Lazarus Effect does suffer from typical modern genre pitfalls. It relies far too much on cheap jump scares punctuated with eardrum-shattering sounds, and as likable as the characters are they often behave in ways that don’t make much sense. Much is made of how powerful Zoe’s telekinesis is, but for the most part it is represented in the action of the film by the lights in the lab flickering on and off a lot. While this is not a knock against the film itself, anyone unlucky enough to have seen the trailer would know the fate of at least one of the characters, which is a heavy tipping of the hand when there are only four potential victims to start with. Despite its shortcomings, The Lazarus Effect is a decent but unspectacular take on some familiar ground, and is a relief from the constant stream of cheap “found footage” mainstream horror films full of one-dimensional characters getting dragged away from the camera. It might not be the vanguard of a new wave of mainstream horror but it’s an inoffensive way for genre fans to pass 80 minutes, and maybe its modest success will prompt other filmmakers to make more interesting choices going forward.

  Let There Be Light (2017)

  Originally published on Letterboxd 11 November 2017

  The very first image seen on screen in Let There Be Light is a grainy video clip of the World Trade Center, which kicks off an opening credits sequence set against a montage of Bad Stuff That Has Happened. Following the credits, the film jumps into a "debate" between Dr. Sol Harkens (debut feature film director Kevin Sorbo) and some Christian writer at an anonymous university. Harkens, repeatedly referred to in the film as "the world's greatest atheist," is promoting his new book Aborting God. This title is displayed on screen almost immediately, and Harkens interrupts his opponent and launches into a rant about his "sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll" worldview. He proclaims his motto in life is "Party on, Wayne!" The audience responds with enthusiastic applause.

  All of the things described in the previous paragraph are actually in this film. It's incredible how much brain-melting embarrassment is on display here in just the first few minutes of the movie. Let There Be Light is a modern Christian multiplex movie so stupid and so shamelessly, transparently manipulative that it makes God's Not Dead 2 look like God's Not Dead. Sol is a hardcore atheist and alcoholic because his 9-year-old son David died of cancer, which in these films is the only way anyone can find their way to atheism. They exist in a world where everyone is actually a Christian (the default setting of all humans) until something happens that turns them into an atheist. Their anger at "God's mysterious ways" is just a love of the Lord that has been twisted and confused. In these films, it is literally impossible for anyone to arrive at atheism on their own terms. There are no actual atheists, because everyone actually believes there is a god whether they like it or not.

  Sol has a drunk driving accident during which he has a near-death experience and sees David. David says "Let there be light, daddy!" and when Sol wakes up he's in the hospital*. Sol doesn't want to admit it, but he talks through things with his devout Christian ex-wife Katie (Sam Sorbo, Kevin's wife and co-screenwriter) and becomes convinced what he saw was real. Katie refers Sol to her pastor Vinny (Michael Franzese), who proceeds to convert Sol to Christianity and baptizes him. Instantly, Sol's alcoholism disappears, never to be mentioned again. Sol's agent Norm (Daniel Roebuck, who ends almost every single line of dialogue with "darling" and speaks in a deeply unconvincing British accent) fires him and Katie comes up with an idea for a phone app called "Let There Be Light" that will allow Christians around the world to sort of do "The Wave" all the way around the globe but with their phone flashlights pointing at the sky on Christmas Day. Then they discover Katie has cancer from an oncologist played by Travis Tritt, whose name is on the poster but who literally only appears in this one scene.

  Sol and Katie somehow snag a meeting with Sean Hannity (who in the real world has had a rough week in the public eye after stating that a man in his 30s could have a consensual sexual relationship with a 14-year-old girl), who agrees to do a special episode of his show where they can use NASA satellite imaging to show the phone flashlights pointing at the sky all across the globe from space. Hannity asks them about possible criticism: "What about diversity?" Sol responds: "Does ISIS think about diversity when they're cutting off people's heads?" Hannity admits: "That's a powerful point."

  Let There Be Light is positively obsessed with ISIS. Take a drink every time somebody says "ISIS" in this movie and you'll be dead in half an hour. It seems likely that someone involved in the film's production heard someone mention Evangelicals being "The American ISIS" and wrote this entire screenplay as a rebuttal. But that exchange with Hannity is the closest the film gets to making a concrete statement, and even that's just complete nonsense. The film also can't help but get in a few digs against people from other countries and faiths. One of Sol's doctors in the hospital is Dr. Patel (Leander Suleiman), an Indian atheist who loves Aborting God, and one of the women who helped design Katie's app was from a Muslim country that she fled to avoid an honor killing before converting to Christianity in the States.

  When the film ends, a title card is displayed urging people who were moved by the film to text "#LetThereBeLight" to their friends and family. As soon as the credits started rolling in the multiplex where I went to see the movie (I bought a ticket for Happy Death Day so I wouldn't be financially supporting this film, for the record), a man a few rows behind me stood up and loudly stated "Before everyone leaves, if there are any saints in the audience I'd like to ask that you pray with me." While others in the audience closed their eyes and raised their hands, he thanked God for letting people see "great movies like this." I can't imagine how this would be considered a "great movie" by any standard, but it appears that the world of Christian multiplex movies is encroaching into American cinemas much more than ever before. There were trailers before Let There Be Light for Samson (featuring Rutger Hauer), I Can Only Imagine (with Dennis Quaid), and Paul, Apostle of Christ (with Jim Caviezel; it's unclear whether or not this is a direct sequel to The Passion of the Christ), all coming to a theater near you in early 2018.

  God help us all.

  (*For some reason, the stock footage establishing shot of the hospital the film uses repeatedly is a hospital in Madrid, although the film takes place in the United States. This is emblematic of the filmmakers' generally lax attitude toward "production quality." For a film hitting multiplexes, Let There Be Light is astoundingly slapdash: in addition to inexplicable stock footage, there are scenes with hideously mismatched color correction and drone footage that appears to have been shot with a camera capturing 640x480 resolution video blown up to the same size as the rest of the footage in the film.)

  Let the Right One In (2008)

  Originally published on Film Monthly 9 November 2008

  Earlier this year, I reviewed Frostbitten, Sweden’s first vampire fi
lm. As far as I know, Let the Right One In is the second vampire film from Sweden. It’s probably too much to hope for, but if this is indicative of the kind of genre film evolution Sweden is capable of, we need to get them producing films of every conceivable tired genre. Simply put, Let the Right One In is the best, most original vampire film to come along in ages.

  Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant) is a pale, thin 12-year-old who is the constant target of hateful bullies. He goes home with bruises or a bloody nose, but lies about what caused them when his mother asks. Oskar fantasizes about standing up to them, but can never muster the courage. When new neighbors move in next door, Oskar meets Eli (Lina Leandersson), a girl his same age. They tentatively form a friendship, but their relationship is complicated when Eli reveals she is a vampire– she appears to be 12, but is actually much older.

  As Eli and Oskar’s friendship develops, Eli’s helper Håkan (Per Ragnar) finds himself less and less able to provide Eli with the blood that she needs. His age and weakness lead Eli to rash actions that set some locals on her trail. As they get closer to Eli, Oskar has to make some difficult decisions as Eli comes to rely on him more and more.

  When I (half-jokingly) said that Frostbitten was more Craven than Bergman, Let the Right One In is more or less what I was imagining a Swedish vampire film to be. Quiet, deliberately paced, and thoughtful, as well as being absolutely gorgeously shot and emotionally affecting. The performances are great all around, especially Kåre Hedebrant as Oskar and Lina Leandersson as Eli. These are two of the best performances by child actors you’ll probably ever see. Director Tomas Alfredson gives the film a grace and warmth rarely seen in horror films, and John Ajvide Lindqvist’s script (adapted from his own novel) perfectly balances the supernatural existence of Eli with Oskar’s much simpler world.

  Let the Right One In is not only one of the very best horror films of this year, but it’s easily one of the best films of the year period. If it creeps into your town this winter, you owe it to yourself to go see it on the big screen.

  Life After Beth (2014)

  Originally published on Letterboxd 9 September 2014

  Life After Beth seems to want to be a "zombie comedy," but it deals with a lot of stuff that is inherently damn-near impossible to draw humor from and fails spectacularly. It's pretty rare to see a fairly wide-release film on this scale that completely fails to find a coherent tone, but here you go. Aubrey Plaza plays Beth, who the audience spends about 30 silent seconds with in life, and who returns from the dead acting... kinda weird? We don't know, because we have no idea how she acted when she was alive. This is a pretty fundamental problem that undermines how the audience is supposed to feel about this character, and is only complicated further when she starts acting abusive and violent as her condition deteriorates and she becomes a more or less standard zombie.

  Dane DeHaan seems completely lost in the lead role as Zach, Beth's grief-stricken boyfriend, but most of that has to be in the writing. The early scene in which he visits Beth's parents (John C. Reilly and Molly Shannon, who get both the best and worst stuff in the movie) and has a heart-to-heart with her dad is sweet, sad, and quietly funny, but once Beth is back in the picture the film goes totally off the rails almost immediately. Are we supposed to think it's funny when Beth rants that Zach's one-man late-night beach concert for her is "gay" and "retarded," or are we supposed to worry for his safety?

  Beth is never really a character we can relate to on any meaningful level, although Aubrey Plaza does her best to make her sympathetic and even tragic. This is possibly the worst example of the "girlfriend who exists solely so a weirdo man-child can learn an important lesson about himself" story to come along since Lars and the Real Girl. Beth is a disposable thing to be dealt with so Isaac can move on, presumably with Anna Kendrick, completely wasted in a cameo as an air-headed grade-school friend of Zach who suddenly reappears in his life. The difference here is that Beth actually interacts with other people and is a person, not a silent sex doll. The fact that Beth and Lars's "Real Girl" come to similar ends makes this film considerably creepier than even that movie.

  For a much more interesting and successful take on a similar concept, see the Deagol Brothers' film Make-Out with Violence. That film is strange, funny, and deals much more seriously and directly with some similar issues that this film tries to play for laughs that it never earns.

  Little Deaths (2011)

  Originally published on Film Monthly 13 December 2011

  The combination of sex and horror in film has always been a magnet for controversy, allowing filmmakers to explore taboo themes and graphic imagery to uniquely unsettling effect. Little Deaths teams three UK genre directors for an anthology of sexually-charged horror shorts: Sean Hogan (director of Lie Still), Andrew Parkinson (director of I, Zombie) and Simon Rumley (director of Red, White & Blue) each turn in very different takes on the theme. Unlike most anthology films, Little Deaths does not feature a “wraparound” story that frames the separate sections. Instead, a simple title card introduces the audience to each segment in turn.

  First up is Sean Hogan’s “House and Home,” in which a rich, bored couple (Siubhan Harrison and Luke de Lacey) stalk homeless women and bring them home under the pretense of offering the less-fortunate a bath and a warm meal. Naturally, that’s not what they’re really up to, or else this short film would be very out of place in this context, and when they bring home a young woman named Sorrow (Holly Lucas), they get a bit more than they bargained for. “House and Home” is perhaps the weakest of the three segments in that it is the most predictable, almost playing like an episode of Tales from the Crypt. It is also the most sexually graphic of the three entries, at least in any traditional sense. “House and Home” is competent– well acted and nicely shot– but given what is to come it is simply outclassed.

  Andrew Parkinson’s “Mutant Tool” ups the ante quite a bit. In this short, research scientist Dr. Reece (Brendan Gregory) crosses paths with Jen (Jodie Jameson), a former prostitute and drug addict, when her boyfriend suggests her as a test subject for the doctor’s latest project. The short follows parallel paths, showing Jen’s reaction to the experimental medication– “hallucinations” and psychic episodes brought on by touch– and the day-to-day reality of just where the medication comes from. “Mutant Tool” is an interesting and unsettling mix of Cronenbergian body horror and mundane realities that Parkinson similarly explored in his film Dead Creatures, with a good lead performance and some utterly bizarre makeup effects.

  As tradition dictates, the best (and most disturbing) is saved for last: Simon Rumley’s “Bitch” depicts the very unusual relationship between Claire (Kate Braithwaite), a young woman who is utterly terrified of dogs, and Pete (Tom Sawyer), a quiet bartender. Claire and Pete’s relationship is based on games of sex and power, and Claire’s favorite game is Pete wearing a dog mask. Odd as it may seem, this is presented as just another part of their life together, but when Claire escalates the sexual games past what Pete can stand, he concocts a truly horrific revenge. Rumley’s segment revisits some of the same territory as his outstanding feature Red, White & Blue, spending plenty of time setting up the characters and allowing the audience in to their lives and minds before things inevitably go very, very bad.

  Overall, Little Deaths is a good bet for fans of transgressive horror cinema. Each segment is stronger than the last, and the final product has plenty to offer horror fans looking for something unique. Also, anyone who enjoys the work of the three directors featured will certainly want to see how they tackle this type of subject matter, and they will not be disappointed. Little Deaths promises something you won’t see anywhere else, and it delivers. Just make sure it’s something you actually want to see– and don’t say you weren’t warned.

  Locker 13 (2014)

  Originally published on Daily Grindhouse 27 March 2014

  The horror anthology (or portmanteau, if you want to talk fancy) has long been a popular way for filmmakers to get their work on th
e big screen. In recent years, the anthology film has been a popular choice for independent filmmakers at every level, from shot-on-video no-budget productions to slicker packages like The ABCs of Death, making anthologies arguably more popular than ever. Locker 13 lands on the higher end of the spectrum, with almost all of its five stories (including a wraparound that becomes the focus of the film’s final segment) featuring a familiar face or two, which is likely how it has ended up with a theatrical run starting March 28th, 2014.

  In the wraparound story, Skip (Jason Spisak) is an ex-con who has lucked into a job as an overnight janitor at an Old West tourist town. His supervisor Archie (Jon Gries) shows him around the facilities, and as he happens upon objects scattered around the place, he is reminded of stories that he believes will be helpful to Skip. Each object leads into a short film, each of them (except one) connected by the appearance of a locker with the number 13 on it.

  In the first segment, “Down and Out,” Ricky Schroder plays a washed-up boxer named Tommy who finds himself on a lucky streak when a mysterious character (Victor Campos) who looks a lot like Frank Langella (so you know something weird is going on) gives him a pair of battered old boxing gloves. The gloves win Tommy fights, but they cause him to go into a violent, unstoppable rage. With his agent Don (Jon Polito) ready to drop Tommy at the next loss, will he keep fighting or will the blood on his hands be too much for him to handle?

  Next up is “The Byzantine Order,” in which Eugene (Bart Johnson) is heading to the local lodge for his initiation with his friend Clifford (Curtis Armstrong). The lodge at first appears to be pretty standard stuff—schmoozing, drinking, everybody wearing a fez, a stripper jumping out of a cake to sing show tunes—until a high-ranking national lodge officer named Floyd Marley (David Huddleston, the Big Lebowski himself) drops by for an unexpected visit and the evening takes a dark turn.