StrayButlerReturns
Joined Jul 2009
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Similar to The Amityville Horror, 2009's The Haunting in Connecticut is a supernatural horror film which employs the "based on a true story" crutch as a hook to entice movie-goers. Of course, the claim that it's based on an actual suburban haunting is all smoke and mirrors, as those who spend even half an hour conducting research will realise the majority of this film's narrative was invented by the screenwriters (Adam Simon and Tim Metcalfe). Interestingly, even Ray Garton - who novelised the particular ordeal - has gone on record stating he doubts the veracity of the story, and this all goes to show how loose the phrase "based on a true story" can sometimes be employed. Interestingly, too, The Haunting in Connecticut seems not that it's based on a true story, but instead based on horror movies of prior decades.
The story concerns the members of the Campbell family, whose oldest son Matt (Galler) is suffering from cancer. In order for them to live in close proximity to a specialty clinic where Matt (Gallner) is undergoing experimental treatments, the family opt to rent a house in Connecticut. However the realtor explains that the house "has a history", which soon becomes apparent when Matt begins witnessing disturbing images at night. At first he believes they are mere hallucinations as a result of his cancer treatments, but the visions are far too vivid. When it's revealed the residence was formerly used as a funeral home, Matt seeks help from a fellow cancer patient, Reverend Popescu (Koteas), who recognises the horrific signs as a cry for help from a macabre past.
To its credit, The Haunting in Connecticut does neglect a few horror clichés we've come to expect from the genre, but these are unfortunately replaced by generic plot lines more common to film in general. On top of the formulaic ghost story, there's the sudsy melodrama about Matt dying from cancer and the impact it has on his family. A poorly-developed side plot exposes the father of the family as an emotionally-abusive former alcoholic, but this is barely touched upon and seems to have been included to add an extra ten minutes to the runtime. Meanwhile the mother is unable to connect with her dying son on an emotional level, and struggles to hold her family together. These clichés don't stop, with the wise priest entering at the right moment to provide an essential service, and children seeing unsettling images as well. Moreover, the characters are without personality and believability. In fact, they deserve a Stupid Horror Movie Character Award in the Family Category. After all, once the ghosts scare the hell out of everyone, the protagonists don't bother to leave the house and head for the closest motel...instead they return to their beds and try to sleep. If people are stupid enough to remain in a situation like that when they could easily leave, they deserve exactly what they get.
In addition, The Haunting in Connecticut is so bankrupt when it comes to generating an effective atmosphere of dread that first-time director Peter Cornwell inserts countless "boo!" moments in an attempt to keep viewers interested. Thus, scenes of dialogue are frequently punctuated with glimpses of a ghostly figure reflected in a mirror or passing outside of a window. These scares are appallingly telegraphed too, with menacing music cues, obvious framing, and protracted dramatic pauses. It becomes almost comical after a while. Indeed, if one played a drinking game in which one swallowed a gulp of alcohol each time a ghoul appeared on-screen in a flash edit of hazy doom, chances are you'll be drunk within half an hour... It's that overused. Furthermore, the PG-13 rating forbids overtly gruesome or explicit content - this means no gratuitous nudity, no requisite sex scene between husband and wife, and the burnt corpses look distinctly tame. Neither nakedness nor gore could have salvaged this paint-by-numbers chiller, but the film would've at least been more digestible.
On the bright side, The Haunting in Connecticut is not unredeemably awful. The script clearly strived to flesh out these characters well enough, and the acting is passable. The plotting also accommodates the removal of one of the most embarrassing horror clichés of all - since the story takes place during the 1980s before the days of the internet, the characters at no point research the phenomenon via Google as a means to lazily advance the narrative to the next plot point. The problem with The Haunting in Connecticut, however, is that it simply feels stale. The story is not interesting or surprising enough, the protagonists aren't compelling enough to latch onto, and the cinematic style is dull.
The story concerns the members of the Campbell family, whose oldest son Matt (Galler) is suffering from cancer. In order for them to live in close proximity to a specialty clinic where Matt (Gallner) is undergoing experimental treatments, the family opt to rent a house in Connecticut. However the realtor explains that the house "has a history", which soon becomes apparent when Matt begins witnessing disturbing images at night. At first he believes they are mere hallucinations as a result of his cancer treatments, but the visions are far too vivid. When it's revealed the residence was formerly used as a funeral home, Matt seeks help from a fellow cancer patient, Reverend Popescu (Koteas), who recognises the horrific signs as a cry for help from a macabre past.
To its credit, The Haunting in Connecticut does neglect a few horror clichés we've come to expect from the genre, but these are unfortunately replaced by generic plot lines more common to film in general. On top of the formulaic ghost story, there's the sudsy melodrama about Matt dying from cancer and the impact it has on his family. A poorly-developed side plot exposes the father of the family as an emotionally-abusive former alcoholic, but this is barely touched upon and seems to have been included to add an extra ten minutes to the runtime. Meanwhile the mother is unable to connect with her dying son on an emotional level, and struggles to hold her family together. These clichés don't stop, with the wise priest entering at the right moment to provide an essential service, and children seeing unsettling images as well. Moreover, the characters are without personality and believability. In fact, they deserve a Stupid Horror Movie Character Award in the Family Category. After all, once the ghosts scare the hell out of everyone, the protagonists don't bother to leave the house and head for the closest motel...instead they return to their beds and try to sleep. If people are stupid enough to remain in a situation like that when they could easily leave, they deserve exactly what they get.
In addition, The Haunting in Connecticut is so bankrupt when it comes to generating an effective atmosphere of dread that first-time director Peter Cornwell inserts countless "boo!" moments in an attempt to keep viewers interested. Thus, scenes of dialogue are frequently punctuated with glimpses of a ghostly figure reflected in a mirror or passing outside of a window. These scares are appallingly telegraphed too, with menacing music cues, obvious framing, and protracted dramatic pauses. It becomes almost comical after a while. Indeed, if one played a drinking game in which one swallowed a gulp of alcohol each time a ghoul appeared on-screen in a flash edit of hazy doom, chances are you'll be drunk within half an hour... It's that overused. Furthermore, the PG-13 rating forbids overtly gruesome or explicit content - this means no gratuitous nudity, no requisite sex scene between husband and wife, and the burnt corpses look distinctly tame. Neither nakedness nor gore could have salvaged this paint-by-numbers chiller, but the film would've at least been more digestible.
On the bright side, The Haunting in Connecticut is not unredeemably awful. The script clearly strived to flesh out these characters well enough, and the acting is passable. The plotting also accommodates the removal of one of the most embarrassing horror clichés of all - since the story takes place during the 1980s before the days of the internet, the characters at no point research the phenomenon via Google as a means to lazily advance the narrative to the next plot point. The problem with The Haunting in Connecticut, however, is that it simply feels stale. The story is not interesting or surprising enough, the protagonists aren't compelling enough to latch onto, and the cinematic style is dull.
Upon its completion in 2005, Edison (alternatively titled Edison Force) endured a torturous limbo existence. Following a disastrous reception at the 2005 Toronto Film Festival as well as terrible test screening reactions, its theatrical release was jettisoned and it headed straight to DVD. Similar to Uwe Boll's BloodRayne, one will likely glance at the cast list for this movie and wonder why such big-name stars agreed to appear in it. Sure, witnessing the likes of LL Cool J and Justin Timberlake in this type of direct-to-DVD action fodder is not much of a shock, but when they're placed alongside such respected actors as Kevin Spacey and Morgan Freeman...one can't help but wonder what the hell happened. Though far more watchable and entertaining than its reception might suggest, Edison remains highly disposable, forgettable and generic. There's nothing wrong with the movie at face value, but it's pure genre stuff, and clearly a paycheck effort for all involved.
In the film, Timberlake plays a naïve and ambitious reporter named Pollack whose research for his latest story leads to the discovery of a major scandal. An elite police force in Edison known as F.R.A.T. appears to be corrupt, and the entire justice system seems to be willingly turning a blind eye to the abuses of this unit. When Pollack's life is threatened (along with the life of his girlfriend), he begins working with his editor, a once-famous reporter, and a private detective to bring down F.R.A.T. and everyone behind it.
Long-time small-screen scribe David J. Burke makes his writing and directing debut with Edison; a flick which clearly strived to be a sprawling corruption drama in the vein of Chinatown and L.A. Confidential that additionally tries to deliver an important message about the moral responsibilities of journalists. Before diving into this film's innumerable flaws, it must be said that Burke's directorial work is solid. Backed by a reported $25 million budget, the first-time director has crafted a number of exciting set-pieces, and the cinematography is frequently energetic. The score, too, is effective. But the problem is that this movie is a parade of clichés which only clicks on a very basic level. With a loose-cannon antagonist, the hard- ass cop with a good heart who strives to fight against corruption, and Freeman portraying the wise old Pulitzer-winner unsubtly named Moses, the whole enterprise is very familiar, meaning there's not a great deal of suspense. The plotting sorely lacks credibility as well - some of the characters are so inept at covering their tracks that a reporter from a small magazine could pin them to the mat.
In terms of action and suspense, Edison flaunts a few decent scenes here and there, but the film as a whole fails to gel. This is mainly due to Justin Timberlake, whose acting one can't help but snicker at. The inexperienced actor is saddled with the enormous responsibility of carrying the film's dramatic weight, and the movie was almost certainly designed as a stepping stone for Timberlake up to star status, but the singer is not compelling or believable enough. Also, he's consistently outshone by his co-stars, most notably Kevin Spacey and Morgan Freeman, who, while phoning in their performances, are still Kevin Spacey and Morgan Freeman! Timberlake may get better as an actor with time, but he's completely wrong for this role. Added to this, Edison is plagued with too many utterly inane moments, including a scene where Pollack escapes the bad guys on a bicycle and a sequence in which Morgan Freeman dances in his dressing gown.
At first, Edison is bursting with promise. Despite some underwhelming acting, the conspiracy plot is engaging and the film does a fine job of making us curious. From there, Burke decides to wrap everything up like a cheapjack action flick, and thus the quiet conspiracy thriller approach is suddenly replaced by shoot-'em-up action set-pieces, car chases, explosions and even a flamethrower. The director might find it cool when people are killed in violent ways, but he fails to understand that this is not the outlet for such a thing. Once the characters shut up and the bullets begin to fly, we see past the glossy sheen of this all-star ensemble and realise Edison is nothing more than a direct-to- DVD actioner inhabited by a few A-listers. Timberlake fans or fans of hardcore action flicks may find this an enjoyable evening of movie- watching. For those seeking something more substantive...move along, there's nothing to see here.
In the film, Timberlake plays a naïve and ambitious reporter named Pollack whose research for his latest story leads to the discovery of a major scandal. An elite police force in Edison known as F.R.A.T. appears to be corrupt, and the entire justice system seems to be willingly turning a blind eye to the abuses of this unit. When Pollack's life is threatened (along with the life of his girlfriend), he begins working with his editor, a once-famous reporter, and a private detective to bring down F.R.A.T. and everyone behind it.
Long-time small-screen scribe David J. Burke makes his writing and directing debut with Edison; a flick which clearly strived to be a sprawling corruption drama in the vein of Chinatown and L.A. Confidential that additionally tries to deliver an important message about the moral responsibilities of journalists. Before diving into this film's innumerable flaws, it must be said that Burke's directorial work is solid. Backed by a reported $25 million budget, the first-time director has crafted a number of exciting set-pieces, and the cinematography is frequently energetic. The score, too, is effective. But the problem is that this movie is a parade of clichés which only clicks on a very basic level. With a loose-cannon antagonist, the hard- ass cop with a good heart who strives to fight against corruption, and Freeman portraying the wise old Pulitzer-winner unsubtly named Moses, the whole enterprise is very familiar, meaning there's not a great deal of suspense. The plotting sorely lacks credibility as well - some of the characters are so inept at covering their tracks that a reporter from a small magazine could pin them to the mat.
In terms of action and suspense, Edison flaunts a few decent scenes here and there, but the film as a whole fails to gel. This is mainly due to Justin Timberlake, whose acting one can't help but snicker at. The inexperienced actor is saddled with the enormous responsibility of carrying the film's dramatic weight, and the movie was almost certainly designed as a stepping stone for Timberlake up to star status, but the singer is not compelling or believable enough. Also, he's consistently outshone by his co-stars, most notably Kevin Spacey and Morgan Freeman, who, while phoning in their performances, are still Kevin Spacey and Morgan Freeman! Timberlake may get better as an actor with time, but he's completely wrong for this role. Added to this, Edison is plagued with too many utterly inane moments, including a scene where Pollack escapes the bad guys on a bicycle and a sequence in which Morgan Freeman dances in his dressing gown.
At first, Edison is bursting with promise. Despite some underwhelming acting, the conspiracy plot is engaging and the film does a fine job of making us curious. From there, Burke decides to wrap everything up like a cheapjack action flick, and thus the quiet conspiracy thriller approach is suddenly replaced by shoot-'em-up action set-pieces, car chases, explosions and even a flamethrower. The director might find it cool when people are killed in violent ways, but he fails to understand that this is not the outlet for such a thing. Once the characters shut up and the bullets begin to fly, we see past the glossy sheen of this all-star ensemble and realise Edison is nothing more than a direct-to- DVD actioner inhabited by a few A-listers. Timberlake fans or fans of hardcore action flicks may find this an enjoyable evening of movie- watching. For those seeking something more substantive...move along, there's nothing to see here.
In this cinematic era of computer animation, the art of claymation (for which hand-moulded figurines are painstakingly photographed one frame at a time) is slowly dissolving. Aardman Studios (the guys behind Wallace and Gromit) seem to be the only ones who still possess the patience required to continue the practise into the 21st Century. It's therefore refreshing to witness the Australian film Mary and Max (the feature film debut of Adam Elliot, who won an Oscar for his short film Harvie Krumpet), which was created using this claymation method to tell a bizarre, sweet and mature story. Tremendously inventive, clever, hilarious and wise, Mary and Max is a sublime movie of warmth and compassion about life's dissonances. The animation is superb, the characters are endearing, the humour is abundant, and it honestly and thoroughly explores several topical themes. If American Beauty director Sam Mendes collaborated with Aardman Animations, the product would be something like Mary and Max.
Based partly on Elliot's own life experiences, Mary and Max is a feature about two people leading a mundane existence on the fringe of society; finding solace only in their heartfelt pen-pal letters to each other. Mary Daisy Dinkle (voiced by Bethany Whitmore and Toni Collette) is a chubby, friendless 8-year-old living in the suburbs of Melbourne with her neglectful parents. One day, Mary randomly selects a name from the Manhattan phone book and writes a letter to him. She chooses Max Horovitz (Hoffman); a severely obese 44-year-old Jewish man with Asperger's Syndrome living in the chaos of New York City. It turns out they have a lot in common - beyond loneliness and a complete lack of friends, they share a love of chocolate and a TV show called The Noblets. Thus begins a 20-year correspondence, with their friendship surviving more than the average diet of life's ups and downs.
There's plenty of playful narration (almost constant) courtesy of Aussie legend Barry Humphries which gives the film the feel of a children's tale, but Mary and Max is not for kids. The movie doesn't shy away from covering an array of mature, confronting issues, such as depression, sexuality, suicide, obesity and mental illness. Unlike most mainstream movies in which friendship saves the day and everybody is happy, Mary and Max is unmistakably dark - both physically dark, and dark in its depiction of reality. Max is never able to lose weight, and Mary can never escape the shadow of her parents. Mary eternally resides in her brown-tinged Melbourne suburb, while Max's New York City is depicted as a grey metropolis whose only bright colours are those that come from Mary (a red pompom, for instance). The predominantly colourless and ominous cityscape of NYC is clearly symbolic of Max's melancholy, mental distress and isolation. The ending in particular underlines the film's dark disposition; showing that in real life there may be happy middles, but happy endings are almost non-existent. But despite this, Mary and Max is by no means a highly depressing venture; it's a cinematic delight, with its downbeat content matched by constant laughs, a super- abundance of heart, and several deeply moving moments. Somehow, all of this is squeezed into an 85-minute timeframe, which at times feels longer due narrative simplicity and the occasional pacing issues. This is probably to be expected, however, as Elliot has only previously worked on shorts.
Even though a mere claymation short could take up to a year to create, old-school animators such as Adam Elliot and his team display a palpable affection for this approach. Mary and Max spent a total of five years in the making, with six dedicated animation teams working under Elliot's direction in a converted factory in Melbourne, and each team creating an average of 4 seconds of footage per day. A huge kudos to Adam Elliot and his claymation team for creating such a vivid, picturesque world here, with the grim landscape evoking a film-noir feel. Every one of the characters, created from plasticine, is intricately and lovingly detailed. The detail does generate the illusion that we're watching a computer-animated movie, yet the painstaking claymation process affords a look, feel and soul that has yet to be replicated through computers. One must have patience and passion to undertake a stop-motion feature of such scale, and these are two qualities Adam Elliot infinitely exerts.
Another tremendous pleasure of Mary and Max is the voice cast; a cornucopia of vocal talent from across the globe. Without a doubt, Philip Seymour Hoffman has proved one of the most versatile actors of recent years with his exceptional vocal work (Capote, anyone?), and he's virtually unrecognisable here. This is, of course, the true essence of voice acting - a viewer should not be given the chance to focus on the actor providing the voice, but instead the character they are voicing. Meanwhile Bethany Whitmore is effortlessly endearing as the young Mary, and Toni Collette is pitch-perfect as Mary in her later years.
Through an immense artistry as well as an evident maturity emanated by the makers, Mary and Max affirmatively and genuinely answers a potent question: is there someone for everyone? In adulthood, we understand that we're born into our families but choose our friends, and the 20- year friendship between these two vastly different yet curiously similar individuals proves the theory. Adam Elliot's ambitious first feature- length claymation movie is an absolute delight, merging witty laughs with heartfelt emotion to generate this genuinely moving slice of animation. Mary and Max is, at least for this reviewer's money, the best animated motion picture of 2009 (yes, better than Up). After the terrific Harvie Krumpet and now this, it's clear Elliot is a highly talented filmmaker one should keep an eye on in future years.
Based partly on Elliot's own life experiences, Mary and Max is a feature about two people leading a mundane existence on the fringe of society; finding solace only in their heartfelt pen-pal letters to each other. Mary Daisy Dinkle (voiced by Bethany Whitmore and Toni Collette) is a chubby, friendless 8-year-old living in the suburbs of Melbourne with her neglectful parents. One day, Mary randomly selects a name from the Manhattan phone book and writes a letter to him. She chooses Max Horovitz (Hoffman); a severely obese 44-year-old Jewish man with Asperger's Syndrome living in the chaos of New York City. It turns out they have a lot in common - beyond loneliness and a complete lack of friends, they share a love of chocolate and a TV show called The Noblets. Thus begins a 20-year correspondence, with their friendship surviving more than the average diet of life's ups and downs.
There's plenty of playful narration (almost constant) courtesy of Aussie legend Barry Humphries which gives the film the feel of a children's tale, but Mary and Max is not for kids. The movie doesn't shy away from covering an array of mature, confronting issues, such as depression, sexuality, suicide, obesity and mental illness. Unlike most mainstream movies in which friendship saves the day and everybody is happy, Mary and Max is unmistakably dark - both physically dark, and dark in its depiction of reality. Max is never able to lose weight, and Mary can never escape the shadow of her parents. Mary eternally resides in her brown-tinged Melbourne suburb, while Max's New York City is depicted as a grey metropolis whose only bright colours are those that come from Mary (a red pompom, for instance). The predominantly colourless and ominous cityscape of NYC is clearly symbolic of Max's melancholy, mental distress and isolation. The ending in particular underlines the film's dark disposition; showing that in real life there may be happy middles, but happy endings are almost non-existent. But despite this, Mary and Max is by no means a highly depressing venture; it's a cinematic delight, with its downbeat content matched by constant laughs, a super- abundance of heart, and several deeply moving moments. Somehow, all of this is squeezed into an 85-minute timeframe, which at times feels longer due narrative simplicity and the occasional pacing issues. This is probably to be expected, however, as Elliot has only previously worked on shorts.
Even though a mere claymation short could take up to a year to create, old-school animators such as Adam Elliot and his team display a palpable affection for this approach. Mary and Max spent a total of five years in the making, with six dedicated animation teams working under Elliot's direction in a converted factory in Melbourne, and each team creating an average of 4 seconds of footage per day. A huge kudos to Adam Elliot and his claymation team for creating such a vivid, picturesque world here, with the grim landscape evoking a film-noir feel. Every one of the characters, created from plasticine, is intricately and lovingly detailed. The detail does generate the illusion that we're watching a computer-animated movie, yet the painstaking claymation process affords a look, feel and soul that has yet to be replicated through computers. One must have patience and passion to undertake a stop-motion feature of such scale, and these are two qualities Adam Elliot infinitely exerts.
Another tremendous pleasure of Mary and Max is the voice cast; a cornucopia of vocal talent from across the globe. Without a doubt, Philip Seymour Hoffman has proved one of the most versatile actors of recent years with his exceptional vocal work (Capote, anyone?), and he's virtually unrecognisable here. This is, of course, the true essence of voice acting - a viewer should not be given the chance to focus on the actor providing the voice, but instead the character they are voicing. Meanwhile Bethany Whitmore is effortlessly endearing as the young Mary, and Toni Collette is pitch-perfect as Mary in her later years.
Through an immense artistry as well as an evident maturity emanated by the makers, Mary and Max affirmatively and genuinely answers a potent question: is there someone for everyone? In adulthood, we understand that we're born into our families but choose our friends, and the 20- year friendship between these two vastly different yet curiously similar individuals proves the theory. Adam Elliot's ambitious first feature- length claymation movie is an absolute delight, merging witty laughs with heartfelt emotion to generate this genuinely moving slice of animation. Mary and Max is, at least for this reviewer's money, the best animated motion picture of 2009 (yes, better than Up). After the terrific Harvie Krumpet and now this, it's clear Elliot is a highly talented filmmaker one should keep an eye on in future years.