NIGHTSIREN
I love me a good folk-horror flick, and Slovak-born Prague-based director Tereza Nvotova has co-scripted with Barbora Namerova an intriguing tale of toxic masculinity and liberated womanhood, but side-stepping the usual trappings. This is a dark fable of grief and joy, of subterfuge and identity. It weaves a narrative that combines naturalism with splashes of magic realism as it explores the folklore of white witchery and sex magic, reflecting contemporary issues of oppression and hypocrisy whilst slyly existing in a wilderness that could be from decades, maybe centuries ago.
It’s been twenty-odd years since Sarlotta (Natalia Germani) has been home to her mountainside village on the outskirts of an unnamed Eastern European city (you catch the occasional glimpse of a motorway in the distance). She is plagued by the flashback memory of her younger sister’s tragic death, falling over a cliff edge, accidentally caused by a young Carlotta. She struggles to deal with the guilt and push through this emotional, psychological barrier, and after local men taunt her, she is befriended by a curious young local woman, Mira (Eva Mores), a free spirit with secrets to spill, yet Sarlotta has her own demons too.
Unfolding with the deliberate slow burn of an evocative novel, marked with chapter inter-titles, and stunningly photographed, Nightsiren is a dark, mystical concoction of beautiful and bewildering elements. Both Germani and Mores give terrific performances, essentially as dual lead roles. There is a raw sensuality, very much from a feminine perspective, but there is brutality too, and while it may not deliver in ways you’d expect, ending as enigmatically as it starts, Nightsiren’s imagery and atmosphere lingers like that of a strange, haunting dream.
SISU
From the Finnish director of Rare Exports, Jalmari Helander, comes this wild and striking hybrid flick, channeling the war action b-movies of the 70s, but upping the graphic violence level, infusing a sense of magic realism, and spiking with black comedy. Sisu sports a crisp, stylish, high-end edge.It takes its title from a uniquely Finnish word to describe the kind of extreme courage and grim determination that only a person who has been pushed to the utter limit will experience. In this case it is Aatami (Jorma Tommila in an almost silent role), a 60-something veteran, minding his own business in the desolate, rugged landscape of Lapland, 1944. He’s discovered a rich vein of gold, and nothing and no-one will take what is rightfully his. Especially not some damn platoon of Nazi arseholes.
Prospector Aatami Korpi, with his trusty little dog by his side, is intent on getting his nugget haul to the nearest bank. But it’s a long trek to Helsinki. SS officer Bruno Helldorf (Aksel Hennie) has a fuck-off tank, a bunch of women prisoners in a truck trailing behind, and is intent on making Aatami’s life sheer hell. Eventually, after Aatami has lost the horse he was on to a minefield, and lost his swag of gold to Helldorf and his cronies, including henchman Wolf (Jack Doonan) and tank driver Schutze (Onni, Jorma’s son), the “Koschei” (The Immortal) - as he’s known - confronts his enemy, grabs the bulls by the horns, and takes no prisoners.
This is easily Helander’s best movie, a glorious, hilarious, bloody salute to war exploitation cinema, and an instant cult fave. This will be the future WWII go-to viewing with a bunch of mates over pizza, popcorn, beers, and whatever else takes your fancy, once its on Blu-ray, or one of the streaming platforms. But if you get a chance to see this in the cinema, it’s definitely designed for the big screen. Punctuated by six chapters: Gold, The Nazis, The Minefield, The Legend, Scorched Earth, and Kill Them All, I was reminded of the kind of deep trash stylistics of Robert Rodriguez (From Dusk Till Dawn, Planet Terror, Machete), yet Helander hammers his nails home with style and humour to burn.
BIRDEATER
Local boys Jack Clark and Jim Weir deliver their debut feature and it’s a doozy. A hybrid relationship drama, dark romance, with a strong darkly comic spine and itchy fingers probing into experimental thriller territory. The curiously titled Birdeater is one of the most original and unique Australian films I’ve seen in years. I was reminded of the American indie film Bellflower (also obscurely titled), with its audacious blending of genre elements, its study of flawed, damaged masculinity, and its elusive tone.
Mackenzie Fearnley plays Louie, who is engaged to English ex-pat Irene (Shabana Azeez). They’ve got an unusual relationship, seemingly dependent on each other, yet there are skeletons in the closet. Secrets and truths will come frothing to the surface before the weekend is over. Yes, this is a retreat to remember, as Louie insists on a buck’s party with a key difference: his fiancée and another female friend will be joining him and a clutch of his dearest male friends, well, not all of them as dear as one assumes. To say there are hidden agendas running amok would be an understatement. Tears before bedtime? Oh indeed. But sometimes it’s darkest before the dawn.
With the exceptional help of fellow ex-AFTRS students Roger Stonehouse as cinematographer and Ben Anderson as editor, Jack and Jim have crafted an instant classic, albeit one that may not be to all tastes. Birdeater has definitely more cult appeal. Terrific acting from the ensemble cast, and an amazing score from Andreas Dominguez that cleverly incorporates familiar themes, and memorably uses unusual instruments. While the narrative is unruly and idiosyncratic, the music, camerawork, editing, and performances brings it together in a cohesive, yet delightfully surprising way.
LATE NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL
You’d be hard-pressed to figure out that this film is an Australian production. It’s the third feature from siblings, Cameron and Colin Cairnes, who made two of my favourite Aussie horror films of the past fifteen years, 100 Bloody Acres (2012) and Scare Campaign (2016). Their latest, a darkly funny satire of US talk shows and occultism, is by far their most accomplished, and is easily one of my favourite films of the year. It’s bloody sensational!
David Dastmalchian, currently playing a small role as a haunted father The Boogeyman, is Jack Delory, a fictional late night talk show host, striving to have the best television ratings in the land of the free. It’s the late 70s, and Johnny Carson rules the roost. Delroy has done all he can to grab and hold viewers attentions, but he’s got one last ace up his sleeve, and maybe this will be the “Night Owls” episode that does the trick. Indeed, a hell of an episode it’s gonna be!
With authentic art direction, wardrobe and styling, a brilliant opening montage and title sequence that is, in itself a tribute to the harrowing and memorable documentary The Killing of America (1982), and bang-on casting (apart from American Datmalchian, the rest of the ensemble cast are Australians putting on faultless American accents and are superb, especially Laura Gordon, Ian Bliss, Josh Quong Tart, and young Ingrid Torelli) the Cairnes brothers have superbly captured the colourful dynamics of US television, play cleverly with the found footage format, and have created a startling, suspenseful, funny, enthralling, and damn entertaining take on greed and corruption… and the Devil. Hopefully it will get a local theatrical release, don’t miss it.