Welcome to the third year of our annual cooperation with the University of Derby  These reviews were written by second-year students on the Creative and Professional Writing Programme at the University of Derby as part of their ongoing non-fiction work.  Today we welcome Harry Heeley to the site with a review of ‘Viy’ or ‘Spirit of Evil’ (1967) Directed by: Konstantin Yershov & Georgi Kropachyov

Quick disclaimer before I jump into this. I watched this film with subtitles and poor ones at that. The film however, more than made up for this. I have never appreciated the idea of watching a film in its original language until I watched ‘Viy’. Watching a film in a language I was not overly familiar with as well as questionable subtitles yielded some challenges but thankfully, I was able to piece character and plot together with thanks from impressive set-pieces and an awesome soundtrack. At its core ‘Viy’ is a horror, with a bit of comedy sprinkled throughout.


Releasing on the 27th November 1967, ‘Viy’ (or ‘Вий’ in Russian) was distributed by Mosfilm. Inspired by a novel of the same name (Written by: Nikolai Gogol), it holds the title of being the first Soviet-era horror film to be officially released in the USSR. To my shock I learnt that the film was made for ₽550,000 (Soviet Roubles) or £2,902 in 1967. Today that would be £44,765. The amount of creativity needed to accomplish this is unparalleled by many other low-budget horror films I have seen.


Before I get carried away with the many intricacies, I feel a plot outline is due. Viy’s opening is rather unassuming. Seminary students getting drunk and naturally, getting lost. Then in a rather contrived coincidence, they take shelter with a witch. It doesn’t take long before our central character, Khoma Brutus (played by Leonid Kuravlyov) discovers the truth. After the witch flies him away he beats her down, killing her as they fall. It is then that he realises he has killed a landowner’s daughter. He attempts to run from the situation by returning home, only to get called in to give a vigil to the same woman. He is tasked with staying in a church for three days, protecting the body from evil spirits, while he himself intoxicates himself with a different kind of spirit.


I have decided it best to split this review up into two sections. I am defining this cut-off as the point where Khoma must stay with the body. I will begin with the negatives before praising this film for what it must be praised for.


Foremost I would like to say that the first section is a soup of different tones. Gloomy settings as well as foreboding music create an amazing and tense atmosphere. This is immediately shattered by quick tonal jump. The film will turn wacky and whimsical only for the music to change to low and discordant only a few minutes later. Not only this, but the pacing and editing is very odd, going from night into day in a matter of minutes with no evident shift in time, it just happens. It can be disorientating; like a mistake rather than something intentional. It would also appear that the cast forgot how to act in the first section.


The plot suffers from editing; it is never really made clear what is happening during certain sections. The introduction for example. After the altercation with the witch, Khoma leaves the scene to go back home. This is not done particularly well, as it just cuts to him back at home, seemingly unaffected by the events. It feels like a scene was deleted that should’ve stayed around.


I have to say there is interesting camera work throughout the entire film. My favourite comes from when Khoma is intoxicated. The camera is using a shallow focus and it is shot directly behind him. We can only see the back of Khoma’s head. He drunkenly sways as does the camera, yet the background (as well as the actors within it) somehow remains static. This scene of pure hallucination would be perfect in a horror film. Yet, due to the dialogue that comes prior, it seems more comedic. I am not quite sure as to whether this was intentional.


I think one of the main issues of ‘Viy’ comes with the fact that it is too inconsistent. Though it is branded as a horror/fantasy. It never really blends the two. It seems to me to be a horror comedy. Something, that upon looking the film up seems to be a consensus. Even then it felt like watching two separate films, with the same actors. One scene will have jolly music, drinking and amusing cuts. Then, in the very next scene, it would be night with either jarring music or an impressive use of a diegetic, uneasy silence. While a character is doing something serious as seen with the landowner, it will immediately jump back to a funny, easy going comedy.


The second half is a far better blend of the two genres, and by that I am referring to horror and comedy. Khoma’s first entrance into the church illustrates this quite well. We see an excellent use of props and lighting. For example: the way in which the body of the woman is illuminated but Khoma is only visible when he either comes close to the body or is lit by candlelight. All props feel intentional, belonging there, having a purpose. Take this solid groundwork for a horror film and mix in some comedy. The filmmakers achieved this by the acting and camera work. Some scenes even make use of slapstick comedy.


Here is another example: Khoma will back away in fear and accidently hit a chair and tumble. Not ground-breaking comedy but it is extenuated by the serious nature that precedes it. The actor also chuckles fairly frequently during these scenes and has an exaggerated warble in his voice. I recall in one scene he seemed to break the fourth wall, looking almost straight into the camera as if he were talking to the audience. So very different aspects of filmmaking coming together to join the two desired genres together. The ending is explosive too, experimentation with stop motion animation for the demons that attack Khoma as well as brilliant costumes and make-up effects for the livelier members of the undead.


Overall, Viy has a rocky start and doesn’t seem to know what kind of film it wants to be. It finds it’s place in the second and final act and owns it brilliantly. A superb use of budget and impressive visuals lends this to be a must-see film for every horror fan - if you don’t mind a bit of comedy that is! It is for these reasons that I give ‘Viy’ an 8/10.

Welcome to the third year of our annual cooperation with the University of Derby  These reviews were written by second-year students on the Creative and Professional Writing Programme at the University of Derby as part of their ongoing non-fiction work.  Today we welcome Anna Hames-Watson to the site with her review of Midsommar directed by Ari Aster. 

Midsommar stars British actress, Florence Pugh as Dani. A woman who follows her boyfriend and his friends to Sweden to attend a festival. The movie is directed by Ari Aster, an up-and-coming horror writer/director since his feature film debut in Hereditary (2016). After watching Hereditary I had no doubt that whatever and whenever Aster released a film, he had both written and directed I was sure to be going – no matter what kind of film.

Midsommar began as a basic screenplay pitched to Aster as a slasher movie among Swedish cultists. Aster took original elements from the screenplay but was mostly inspired by a difficult break up. The movie itself grossed $47 million with positive reviews highlighting Florence Pugh’s performance as Dani Ardor and also Aster’s superb direction.

Midsommar is one of those films that worms itself into your brain, it makes you question everything. and I had to watch it more than once to even grasp what was even going on. The film is packed with so many easter eggs and twists that could result in a very confused audience. After arriving in Switzerland, the group of Americans are later exposed to the local’s true colours and their disturbing practices within the festival.

Many things happen within the film, but as I said – it is a slow burner. The events do not really pick up until the second part of the film. The gruesome murders and the pagan rituals that are stomach turning. Though if you can manage the gruesome scene of Dani’s dead parents and her sister who has a hose taped to her mouth in the opening: nothing else in this movie could you phase you. The group witnesses many Hargan rituals including attestupa: in where two elders jump from a cliff and onto a rock – unfortunately it doesn’t go as planned and one of them has to have their head bashed in with a mallet (obviously).

It is probably one of the most underrated films of 2019. Though I do think the film is like marmite: you either love it, or you absolutely hate it. I think the run time may have something to do with that – its 138 minutes and it is a slow burning piece, and it takes a while for anything to really ‘happen’. I think for most audiences it will turn them off simply because its not as fast paced as most films of that year.

The movie begins with a mural, which actually subtly explains the plot  from Dani’s point of view. Which also leads to me telling you that every piece of art work in this movie is so important. Whenever there is art within any scene take note of it! Every little piece that you think is insignificant is actually some sort of clue or hint to something later in the film. For example, the picture above Dani’s bed of the girl and the bear eludes to final scenes.

Overall, the cinematography of the film is astounding. The colour palette adds to the feel of the film too, with the colours changing from wintery toned blues in America to bright and warm colours when they reach Sweden, and the cult.

The movie itself is a descent into madness, for both Dani and the audience. She is a traumatised individual who has experienced not only the murder of her parents but also the suicide of her sister. Her boyfriend of three or four years should have been there to support her – instead, he was planning on jetting off to Sweden to befriend the Harga cult and leaving his depressed and traumatised girlfriend in America. On. Her. Own. He eventually feels guilty enough to bring her along, where they essentially spend the rest of the movie tripping on drugs. From the beginning, Dani is questioning everything around her to in the final scenes, she is just accepting the Hargan way of life. In the script the direction for Florence Pugh was: ‘A smile finally breaks onto Dani’s face. She has surrendered to a joy known only by the insane. She has lost herself completely and she is finally free. It is horrible and it is beautiful.’ Dani lost herself after the final events of the film and she just began to accept that this is her life now.

There is a transition at the beginning of the film that just makes me do a silent cheer every time I watch the movie. It is when Christian’s friends agree to let Dani go along with them to Sweden, she goes from opening a door to a room in an apartment to opening a door that leads into a plane’s bathroom. It is honestly one of the greatest and minimally creative film transitions I have ever seen.

Other hidden elements are scattered throughout the film, such as when Dani is crowned the May Queen she is taken on a platform and performed around by members of the cult – and in the background of the scene, in the trees is Dani’s dead sister, with the exhaust pipe in her mouth. In an earlier scene, Christian’s Swedish friend Pele is talking to Dani about going to Sweden, and above his head is some kind of house plant that actually looks oddly similar to the crown he wears at the end of the film. There is a picture in Mark’s apartment of the scarecrow from Wizard of Oz, again eluding to what happens to him after he disrespects the cults precious tree.
    
​Midsommar is one of those films that not every understand or enjoys but I feel everyone can identify that it is within the same vein as films such as Gone Girl (2014). Is the main character way out of line? Possibly. Do we agree with their actions? Not completely (though I would argue Christian definitely deserved being sown into that bear suit and burnt alive). But these types of films have you saying, ‘good for her!’ at the end. Midsommar is a masterpiece of colour and symbolism and reminiscent of pagan traditions and for the sheer complexity and beauty of the film I give it a solid 8 out of 10 stars.

by Anna Hames-Watson

Welcome to the third year of our annual cooperation with the University of Derby  These reviews were written by second-year students on the Creative and Professional Writing Programme at the University of Derby as part of their ongoing non-fiction work.  Today we welcome Oviya Thirumalai to the site with her review of Coraline directed by Henry Selick, and based on Neil Gaiman novella of the same name. 

Coraline (2009)
Dir. Henry Selick,
USA,
1h 40m

Coraline, a spunky 11-year-old, is rather disappointed in her plain new home, startingly eccentric neighbours and the usual lack of attention from her parents. However, when she is given a doll that closely resembles her by Wyborne (yes, that’s his real name), another adventurous child, who lives nearby, the plot is set into motion.  She is guided into a whole other world, via a passageway in her new home, bursting with colour, loving parents, and most importantly, roast chicken and a gravy train. The only catch? She has to sew buttons into her eyes if she wants to remain there. The movie then follows a high-risk game wherein Coraline must not only escape the clutches of her ‘other’ mother, but must also free the souls of other children and rescue her lost parents.

The movie, surprisingly, is an adaptation of the dark fantasy children’s novella ‘Coraline’, penned by British author Neil Gaiman. Initially written for his daughters, the book was developed over a ten-year period. Amusingly, the total production period for the film was close to five years. Both the movie and the novella have enjoyed immense success and critical appreciation. As one of the people who have enjoyed both of then, I can confidently state that this is a movie adaptation that really brings the story to screen in the best possible way.

Coraline, despite being primarily aimed at children, manages to please adults too, and not just with the horror elements, but with the intelligence of the script and the visuals. One of my favourite moments feature a beautiful blue and gold sky, a nod to Vincent Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’. That particular scene is quite genius, initially lulling watchers into a sense of false security, with the free souls of the trapped children, before delivering another round of bad news, that she’s still in danger. That there’s a super creepy metallic hand out to steal the key, and drag Coraline back to the other world. Much like the actual plot, I was drawn in by it’s stunning visuals, that I barely remembered that it was in fact, a horror movie. This shot is immediately followed by an even creepier one. Coraline, who I must remind you is a 11-year-old girl, decides to throw away the key in an abandoned well that is located in the large woods, in the middle of the night, in a horror movie.

This scene had me metaphorically slamming my head into the wall, for three reasons. The first being, the lack of common sense that we normally experience with the protagonist in Horror movies. The second being her fearlessness, that one could consider reckless. The third being the absolute irresponsibility of her parents. Whilst sneaking out of the house at midnight for a secret rendezvous is a rite of passage, a tween definitely shouldn’t be able to pull it off. That being said, Coraline makes the right decision, as proved by the rather intense fight scene seconds later. She and Wyborne, yet another tween who happens to enjoy taking moonlit strolls in the woods at midnight, manage to drop both key and hand into the well, and end the reign of terror.

The movie also features a rather philosophical excerpt, “what a piece of work is man,” from Shakespeare’s Hamlet (1603), a soliloquy that I unfortunately immediately recognised from my days of attempting to master Hamlet. However, to my delight, it is now performed in the movies most cringey scene. Supposedly a parent approved source of entertainment, Coraline is ‘treated’ to a stage turned acrobatic performance by two elderly actresses, as they attempt to recreate both Greek goddess Aphrodite’s birth, and The Odyssey’s (1614) singing siren. Whilst it does end up becoming a rather endearing scene, especially the acrobatic portion, the initial shock of the nearly naked women, does make me cringe each time.

When analysing what really makes Coraline the exception to my no-horror rule, (I’m a scaredy cat and I’m not afraid to admit it,) the visuals is the first thing that comes to mind. Originally planned to be a live-adaptation, director Henry Selick makes the decision to use stop-motion to animate Coraline and her world. Selick, best known for his directorial work in ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ (1993), another children’s dark-fantasy stop motion film, handles Coraline with a veteran hand. Despite being a risky gamble, Coraline paved the way for the increased use of stop-motion animation with the production studio Laika, who later produced the critically acclaimed ‘Kubo and the Two Strings’ (2016).

An example of the breath-taking visuals, and my favourite scene in the movie, is the opening sequence. It really sets the tone for the movie as a whole by featuring a doll being remodelled to resemble Coraline, which is complimented well with the music, that initially appears to be light-hearted, yet holds an underlying tension beneath. The scene both intrigues and excites the audience and I commend the designers for creating the fantasy element of the open window, as the doll slowly ascends into the sky.

Selick maintains the power of the visuals throughout the movie. Whilst the jumping mice sequence routine never fails to leave me impressed, it’s the slow shots that really creep up on me. The first shot of the ‘other’ mother leaves me reeling each time, as does her transformation into the shattered monster that she becomes. Whilst the latter plays on the horror movie genre, by fixating on scarier elements and a screechy voice (hats off to debut actress Teri Hatcher), it is the unsettling button eyes of the first that scares me more.

Despite the movie being rated PG, I would personally advise against showing your younger children this movie. Personally, having been shown the movie at age 9 in school, I along with several other of my classmates, were left traumatised by the movie. That being said, this movie has become a favourite movie of mine, and I have consistently watched it multiple times a year ever since.

I would rate Coraline a 9/10 because whilst it’s a masterpiece of a children’s horror movie, it is quite predictable at times, and thus eliminating the real fear that she might not survive. The movie blends comedic moments, a few short musical numbers, artistic visuals and horror extremely well and it’s a movie that definitely needs to be watched!   

Oviya Thirumalai

Oviya Thirumalai is a student in her second year of creative writing and photography at the University of Derby. She attempts to both do her coursework on time, and be a freelance writer on the side. She calls herself a poet, a scriptwriter, and an author.
​
She spends a lot of her time re-watching movies that she’s already seen, sitting with a blank page trying to write, obsessing over her favourite fictional characters, and sleeping. ​

Initial release: 25 November 2020 (Finland)
Director: Natasha Kermani​
Writer: Brea Grant
Stars: Brea Grant, Leith M. Burke, Dhruv Uday Singh

Storyline 
A suburban woman fights to be believed as she finds herself stalked by a threatening figure who returns to her house night after night. When she can't get help from those around her, she is forced to take matters into her own hands.

I suspect this film is a bit of a polarising one.


Lucky is a Shudder exclusive, directed by Natasha Kermani (Imitation Girl) and written by Brea Grant (12 Hour Shift).


Grant also stars as May, a writer whose self-help books for women mainly advocate self-reliance and independence. One night she’s roused from her bed by a noise and finds a masked man outside her house. She wakes her husband Ted (Dhruv Uday Singh) for support – and he casually tells her that it’s just “the man”. It’s the man who tries to kill her every night. He says this so matter-of-factly, as if it’s a fact of life that’s always been the case and always will be. They fend off the killer, who does a Michael Myers vanishing act, and in the morning Ted runs off in a sulk when May gets upset and asks him just what the fuck is going on.


From here May’s world becomes a terrifying ordeal of nightly assault and daily dismissal, as no one seems to take her peril seriously. The police are utterly useless, asking the same pointless questions every time she calls them and taking forever to do anything but ask about Ted, who hasn’t resurfaced. Things seem to be over when she manages to kill the intruder – but they disappear, and the next night it’s the same old story. Her assistant Evie (the excellent Yasmine Al-Bustami) and sister-in-law Sarah (Kausar Mohammed) both seem to know what’s up, everyone seems to know something, but no one will listen to her. Instead they just press home how ‘lucky’ she is, how ‘brave’ she is. Everyone is so condescending to her. Especially Ted and the male cops.


By now it should be clear what this film is about. It’s about the pervasive threat of male violence that’s ever-present in women’s lives. This message isn’t delivered in a particularly subtle way, which I think is the bit that’s going to rub some folks up the wrong way. Instead the message is rammed home again and again, like a hammer to the skull. When Ted says “It’s the man”, that’s our first indicator. Grant’s assailant is The Man. It’s the patriarchal system that sees men prey on women and that resists change and has so many of us shrugging and saying, echoes by the characters in the film, “that’s just the way life is, right?”. As messages go, it’s hard to miss and it’s bluntly delivered.


But here’s the thing – I think that’s pretty clearly Kermani and Grant’s intention. So what if the message isn’t couched in layers of carefully crafted subtext and impenetrable metaphor? Who said that has to be the way to get a message across? If you want to make absolutely sure that no one can miss the point and see your movie as just a fun sanity-bending home invasion film, then going ham is the right move. The situation is intolerable and if you have to pin a man’s eyes open Ludovico-style to make him see it, then so be it.


I should of course point out that Lucky is absolutely a fun sanity-bending home invasion slasher too. Kermani’s direction is taut and effortless, with some fantastic sequences (that entire parking garage sequence with May and her assistant Evie will stick with me for a while) and great tension. She balances the dreamlike quality of the surreal situation with the brutality of the violence extremely well. Grant is on fine form too, with May coming across as vulnerable but determined to “go it alone” as her books preach.