The Fall of the Louse of Usher: A Gothic Tale for the 21st Century

Thirty years ago, I sat in a movie theatre stunned to my very bones watching THE DEVILS. Director Ken Russell worked with big budgets and big stars then. Now, that's not the case, but the feeling of being stunned remains the same. FALL OF THE LOUSE OF USHER blows you away. It's as simple as that. Russell has made a low budget, feature length video with no producer or movie company looking over his shoulder. The result mystifies because, on one hand it's a puerile, tasteless, and totally delirious send up of just about everything connected with pop culture; on the other, it's a playfully mature work of art that can indeed be taken seriously if one can withstand its brutal and disorienting assault to probe the meaning of Russell's vision. It's like this: cross the Jackass boys with Jean Luc Godard and add a little ATTACK OF THE COCKFACED KILLER, and you get, relatively speaking, a point of departure for discussing this movie. Russell plays with his digital camera like a teenager in puberty, but the sophistication of an elderly artist is there, as well. This is not the least bit surprising to me when you consider Russell's obvious need to create. While others sit around and wait for the phone to ring, Russell gathers all these young folks at his house and goes for it. Given the ghastly state of most straight to video fare, much of which has been shot on video, one can only hope that those with money who produce will see the value of this director and let him go, go, go some more. The movie is great, and Ken Russell is even greater. Thank-you for stunning me so.

I have loved Russell's films for years, but this one tops it all. It is inventive and stunning beyond belief. Made on a shoestring budget, but with the flair of a Hollywood blockbuster, it has humor, irony, great self-conscious acting and the biggest arsenal of consumerist gadgets since, well, Russell's own masterpiece The Lair of the White Worm. Stunning set-pieces, great visuals and a surprise-a-minute. Russell has turned to underground film-making once again (that's how he got started in the late fifties). The financial restrictions have forced him to be truly creative again. The result is this film, made on digital video. If ever a film was rightfully called mind-blowing, it's this one. There's nothing quite like it, nor is it likely there ever will be. One of the most extraordinary films you are likely to see. Ever. SEE/RENT/BUY IT NOW!

This movie, the 30 minutes or so of it I did watch, really filled me with horror. It is scary to think that this is Ken Russell without professional crew, editor, producer. The film really imparts the lesson that you do need a studio you do need backing you do need at least a few different expensive craftsmen for every pixel on the screen. I would be loathe to criticize Russell cause of his past work. Man Ray used to say that it is hypocritical of a critic to endorse one work by an artist then to reject another. But this movie looked like something you'd have to sit through at an underground film festival ca 1971 like Trisha's Wedding. And what moves me to speak badly of it is that although I doubt he meant to make this point, he has, and its not true. You don't need all the money in the world to make a great film you just need to take lots and lots of care or do lots and lots of shooting and lots and lots of cutting.

As far as using non actors to do scripted dialog, well George Kuchar does that a lot better too, using the awkwardness for comic effect rather than just having everyone yell constantly. But in the case of casting I think the ineluctable lesson is that unless you after a very particular kind of comedy, you shouldn't give non actors lots of scripted lines. The little darlings should be led by the nose through improvs into what looks like acting (in fact what often looks like very very good acting).

George Kuchar is a hugely important role model if you want to work outside the system. He has shot innumerable gorgeous films on 16 mm for say $600 per 20 minutes. He mostly works with video now.

This is nothing more than a cheap ass home movie done by a director who should have known better.Its not that there is anything wrong with this being made but the look and feel of it is that of a goof made among friends over a weekend for their own amusement. Regrettably someone though the rest of the world would find it equally enjoyable and released it on an unsuspecting world.

The plot has Roderick Usher ending up in a asylum for murder where goth and allegedly racy things are going on. There music and jokes and tasteless stuff. Mostly there is an undying urge to turn the DVD off and put on one of Ken Russell's other films...anyone of them.

I'm a Ken Russell fan. I've always liked that fact that no matter what he did there was always something interesting to look at or see somewhere in the movie. Here there is nothing. Its a complete waste of time.

Oh how one of the cinema's great directors has fallen....

Even though his work was always wildly indulgent and overblown, I've enjoyed the unique excesses of Ken Russell's cinema, being fond of several films because they're good (if still excessive), flamboyantly bad, or some campy mix of both. He's always done best under pressure from a generous budget and strong studio or producer oversight.

Left to his own devices, and abandoned by the film industry, this farcical goof only tangentially related to Poe themes is silly, shrill, amateurish, sophomoric-ally sex-phobic, and aims to shock in a dated early 80s punk/New Wave cinema mode. Its wit is mostly a matter of horrible puns, community-theater "foreign" accents, and in-joke references. The performers ham in Russell's preferred over-the-top style, albeit without the skill of the professional actors he once used--none worse than Russell himself, who plays a mad doctor with a vaudeville Nazi accent and is not a pretty sight as his face has gone spotty-red and pustule- ridden.

That said, there are some funny touches--as in the "Premature Burial" upending, an early gag involving one of those singing/tail-waggling fishes on a trophy placard, or a late sequence exploiting a huge blowup children's slide--and even on zero budget Russell retains a knack for lending nearly every shot some sort of surreal flash. (Whether that means having an actor in a gorilla suit or utilizing a multicolored plastic Slinky.)

It gets better as it goes along, but there's still a feeling of glorified home-movie indulgence by an attention-hungry old man only further caricaturing his image as a filmmaker who never should have been taken seriously. That's unfortunate, because (skipping his TV work as a separate issue) from "Women in Love" through at least "Lair of the White Worm" he made strikingly distinct if always flawed contributions to the art form. (Russell will never get a Knighthood, unlike just about anyone else who's got a long high-profile career in British cinema, because he's just made too many movies HRH couldn't be associated with.)