REGRESO DEL MÁS ALLÁ
(1982)
Dir - Juan José Porto
Overall: MEH
The second of only two horror movies from Spanish filmmaker Juan José Porto, Regreso del más allá, (Back from Beyond, Return from Beyond), is an obscure and clearly minuscule-budgeted one. Set almost entirely at a contemporary-styled mansion that a couple rents to work on their novel and thesis respectfully, it has a redundant nature where the woman incessantly has visions of the three people who were brutally murdered there. Save for one or two hazy framing effects, the ghosts are just actors in pale zombie make-up who either merely stand still or slowly walk up to Ana Obregón as she stares wide-eyed, cries, screams, and still insists on staying there because the movie needs to be longer than twelve minutes. The husband never sees anything of course, but at least he does not gaslight his partner, plus Porto goes for a curious stillness in the presentation. There is little incidental music and the numerous supernatural scenes play out in a calm and matter-of-fact manner. While the approach is unique and seems to be going for a sense of low-key and eerie intimacy, it unfortunately results in a sterile watch. The twist ends up being both predictable and logically undermines the long wait to get there, but at least some exploitative gore, nudity, and a genuine attempt at spookiness is appreciated.
(1984)
(1982)
Dir - Juan José Porto
Overall: MEH
The second of only two horror movies from Spanish filmmaker Juan José Porto, Regreso del más allá, (Back from Beyond, Return from Beyond), is an obscure and clearly minuscule-budgeted one. Set almost entirely at a contemporary-styled mansion that a couple rents to work on their novel and thesis respectfully, it has a redundant nature where the woman incessantly has visions of the three people who were brutally murdered there. Save for one or two hazy framing effects, the ghosts are just actors in pale zombie make-up who either merely stand still or slowly walk up to Ana Obregón as she stares wide-eyed, cries, screams, and still insists on staying there because the movie needs to be longer than twelve minutes. The husband never sees anything of course, but at least he does not gaslight his partner, plus Porto goes for a curious stillness in the presentation. There is little incidental music and the numerous supernatural scenes play out in a calm and matter-of-fact manner. While the approach is unique and seems to be going for a sense of low-key and eerie intimacy, it unfortunately results in a sterile watch. The twist ends up being both predictable and logically undermines the long wait to get there, but at least some exploitative gore, nudity, and a genuine attempt at spookiness is appreciated.
Dir - Pedro Olea
Overall: MEH
A witch trial drama from filmmaker Pedro Olea, Akelarre, (Witches' Sabbath), hits all of the miserable and predictable beats even if it is presented sincerely instead of being merely exploitative. Set during the end of the 16th century in Navarre, Spain and apparently shot on location there, it concerns your usual crop of corrupt clergyman and town officials who squash the peasants pre-Christian traditions by striking fear into the village with preposterous witch accusations. It has false confessions brought on by torture, a Don's son who tries to free a condemned tavern maid after making repeated sexual advances towards her, (and then raping her anyway), plus the Catholic church depicted in the bog-standard and unflattering light where they go from town to town murdering innocent members of the lower class in the name of the Jesus. As stock as the story and black and white as the characters may be depicted, Olea presents it as a timely tragedy where paranoia and superstition make natural bedfellows with corruption and class dynamics. The pacing is without agency, but José Luis Alcaine's cinematography utilizes natural lighting to ideally capture the rustic setting.
Overall: MEH
A witch trial drama from filmmaker Pedro Olea, Akelarre, (Witches' Sabbath), hits all of the miserable and predictable beats even if it is presented sincerely instead of being merely exploitative. Set during the end of the 16th century in Navarre, Spain and apparently shot on location there, it concerns your usual crop of corrupt clergyman and town officials who squash the peasants pre-Christian traditions by striking fear into the village with preposterous witch accusations. It has false confessions brought on by torture, a Don's son who tries to free a condemned tavern maid after making repeated sexual advances towards her, (and then raping her anyway), plus the Catholic church depicted in the bog-standard and unflattering light where they go from town to town murdering innocent members of the lower class in the name of the Jesus. As stock as the story and black and white as the characters may be depicted, Olea presents it as a timely tragedy where paranoia and superstition make natural bedfellows with corruption and class dynamics. The pacing is without agency, but José Luis Alcaine's cinematography utilizes natural lighting to ideally capture the rustic setting.
(1985)
Dir - Amando de Ossorio
Overall: MEH
Doubling as the final theatrically-released film from Spanish writer/director Amando de Ossorio as well as veteran actor Ray Milland, The Sea Serpent, (Serpiente de mar), is a rightfully neglected nature horror dud, one of oodles that sprung forth in the wake of Stephen Spielberg's Jaws. There is no killer shark, but the creature that we do get is hilariously unconvincing. The filmography of de Ossorio was always ill-equipped budget wise and this, (his only giant monster movie), is no different. The creature resembles that "What! What'll come out no more!" stop-motion thing that shows up for one shot in John Carpenter's Big Trouble in Little China, if only it was made with papier-mâché for a third grade school art project. Hardly a proper Loch Ness Monster stand-in, it is delegated to little screen time anyway. In fact, it disappears for almost the entire second act which allows for the hackneyed plot to unfold as a series of frustrated people trying to convince other frustrated people that an oversized sea beast exists. Besides Milland, Jack Taylor, Victor Israel, and even Spanish horror director León Klimovsky make appearances, but this and the stupid looking title monster are hardly enough to maintain interest.
No comments:
Post a Comment