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A Boy’s Imagination Can Conjure Up EVIL Death and Sex. “Viva La Muerte” reviewed! (Radiance Films / Limited Edition Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Viva la Muerte” Limited Edition Won’t Be Around Long. Grab Your Copy Here!

At the peak low of the Spanish Civil War, naïve adolescent boy Fando doesn’t understand what is happening between the Catholic-blessed fascist takeover of his country nor exactly why his father was arrested and what has since happened to him.  He stumbles upon letters written by his mother suggesting that she had something to do with his sudden arrest because of his parents’ rival principles paralleling their nation’s bloody conflict of dividing beliefs.  Fando asks his remaining family questions, especially pelting his mother with detailed inquiries, about his father, death, and the fascist opposition, and while he’s lives under the draconian rule of a fascism reality and his family who abides it closely, the inquisitive boy intersperses his new, complex reality with his own way of comprehending, filling in the blanks with his vivid imagination of childish macabre, oedipal maturing, and an uninhibited interpretation of the evolving revolution surrounding him.   

“Viva la Muerte,” aka “Long Live Death,” is the 1971 surrealistic war horror from then debut filmmaker Fernando Arrabal.  Arrabal, who went on to modest yet esteemed career with such arthouse films such as “I Will Walk Like a Crazy Horse,” “Car Cemetery” and another Spanish Civil War set drama “L’arbre de Guernia,” also wrote the film that cemented his contributions to the surrealistic performance art movement known as the Panic Movement.  Though Arrabal was born in Spain and tells the story of the Spanish Civil War, the filmmaker had lived in France where the movement’s genesis began solely as street shock performances alongside fellow filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky (“El Topo”) and writer/actor Roland Topor, the latter had penned the novel of inspiration for what would be Roman Polanski’s “The Tenant.”  Eventually, the Panic Movement slid into cinemas and the French production/language “Viva la Muerte” was designed to not only exhibit chaotic, childlike account of the Spanish Civil War but also shock audiences with bizarre imagery.  Isabelle Films and S.A.T.P.E.C. fund the film under the producing credits of Hassene Daldoul and Jean Velter.

What better way to express an arthouse film than with arthouse performances from a blend of European actors and actresses from the French and Spanish territories.  “Viva la Muerte” couriers a perception through the eyes of a preteen child, a young boy of approx. 10 years of age, in Fando played with infatuation innocence and a model of child-to-adult growth in Mahdi Chaouch.  Fando’s virtue through the Spanish Civil War becomes shaped by not only the sudden loss of his father but also the quick onset of maturity being left and lifted as the man of the house.  Fando slips into a mix of fantasy and disdain for his mother, played by Spanish actress Núria Espert, surrounded and shaped by a political conflict climate as he interprets every statement she makes regarding his father’s irresolute fate between imprisonment and execution and every desirably suggested aspect of her action that drives him to internally create visuals of sex and death.  In the effect of one’s different self is the subtle infusion of the aunt whom Fando lives with for a while, a role by French actress Anouk Ferjac (“Hallucinations sadiques”) and mirrors the mother in appearances and in the same taboo risking amorous ways that creates thick, nearly line-crossing, sexual tension between adult woman and male child, especially topped by its incestuous nature.  Unknowns Jazia Klibi, Jean-Louis Chassigneux, Suzanne Comte, and Ivan Henriques as Fando’s dissident father round out the cast with a sense of authenticity for real world conflict. 

Arrabal’s “Viva la Muerte” becomes a beaconing example of merging stern reality with liberal imagination.  Though starkly apposition in film styles and surreal contrasts against the backdrop of a new world and bleak order of a fascism regime, reality and fantasy do blend to a degree as Arrabal sought to have one and the other bleed into one another to evoke questions of motives and symbolize with child caricaturizing the authoritarian oppression.  The overtly sexual fantasies of a naked mother and aunt in the presence of the boy can be egregiously sensed outside the dreamlike context with paused moments of starring and awkward touching.  Same can be said about Fando’s father’s demise as the boy goes through an array of grotesquely creative possibilities regarding father’s fate with most often being death and while Fando is spoon-fed lesser punitive measures by his mother, the chances of the father being alive after being arrested are likely zero based off earlier graveside executions of military firing squads for those with strong ideology opposition.  Fando’s mother plays a hefty role in his deadly, warped thoughts and just not sexually either as her role in his colorfully constructed explanations pin her as the chief executioner after reading her letters to the church about his dissident behavior.  Catholicism, or rather the Church, plays a huge role in shaping young Fando’s personal arc.  Religious imagery of his mother as the virgin Mary, a priest blessing fascist swords before battle, and also the same priest having his manhood violently removed and fed to him represents a way to explain how Catholicism has essentially failed stand against the violence to which, later exhibited in the story, molds Fando as a trouble instigator or rebel in his Catholic nun run school for the Church’s complicity in his father’s death.  Fando’s rejection of the Church confirms his character’s growth from the story’s beginning of his extreme self-penancing and opposition to such aberrant thoughts; thoughts that are not just sexual in nature but also incline themselves to be dirty, literally, with skin-covering mud and scat in playful mirth to signify enjoyment equates to being sinful and filthy.  Arrabal really does give you lots to unravel and the panic really starts to set in, hence his Panic Movement.

Limited to 3000 copies, “Viva la Muerte” arrives to the U.S. on its first Blu-ray release here in the States from Radiance Films.  The beautiful, new 4K restoration scan, with the collaboration of director Fernando Arrabal, pulled from the best elements of the original 35mm negative, 35mm French sound negative, and 35mm interpositive negative fathoms a rich spectrum of a diffused color palette on the AVC encoded, dual layer, BD50, presented in a high-definition 1080p and in the original European aspect ratio of 1.66:1.  Reality scenes are grounded by natural lighting, brighter contrast of the mountainous desert landscape, and a thorough macro-examination of the details and textures that pop the imagery between the grandfather’s bloodletting scene on the shaved portion of his fibrous head to the wet-slick and soapy naked Fando as he stands to get scrubbed down in the bath.  Blacks are solid without signs of a weaker compression encoding.  The surreal imagery switches gears, harshly, from 35mm film to an interlaced videotape, changing and reducing the quality down significantly but with the tape image is heavily colored in mostly primary colors to denote an artful way of imaginary explanations in Fando’s head.  No other issues arise from the video portion, retaining Radiance Films’ attention to detail and respect intact for their culturally valuable and extensive catalogue.  The French language uncompressed LPCM 2.0 mono track fairs well from a virtually damage free preservation.  A slight background hiss or hum can be found as the only audio blemish to note.  ADR dialogue is clean and clear throughout and with usually any post dialogue recordings there’s a bit of enclosed reverberations that don’t synch well with the scene that should sound airier.  Optional English subtitles synch fine and are error free with seemingly proper translational grammar.  Special features include an audio discussion between Projection Booth podcast’s Mike White, esoteric and horror film writer and former Video Watchdog contributor Heather Drain, and filmmaker-writer Jess Byard whom provide commentary overtop of the feature but not in synch with watching feature, a feature-length documentary on Arrabal by French novelist Xavier Pasturel Barron that contains interviews with friends, family, and fans of the director, an exclusive interview with cinema historian David Archibald, a new cut trailer from Radiance, and an image gallery.  Radiance continues to impress with the encoded special features and, not to be outshined, the physical features are also a bright light that reflects the essence of the Panic Movement with a clear, a millimeter thicker Amaray presenting the yellow and red background with provocative character imagery at the center that speaks the sex and death motif.  The reverse side has the same color scheme mixed up with an illustration of one of the characters displayed infamously in the film.  The insert contains a 35-page color booklet, bounded end-to-end with the strange and uneasy drawings of Fernando Arrabal, with a 1976 Arrabal interview by film critic and historians Peter Brunette and Gerald Peary and an exclusive essay from Sabina Stent.  Transfer notes as well as a complete cast and crew acknowledgement bookends the booklet’s main courses.  The disc is pressed in a solid, canary yellow with black lettering for the title.  Radiance’s 66th title comes region free release has a runtime of 88 minutes and is not rated. 

Last Rites: War is hell. For Fernando Arrabal, war is ambiguous and surreal. Radiance spotlights every ambivalent corner of Arrabal’s “Viva la Muerte” to light up its anti-nondescript digestion of one boy’s survival of his own maturity during a post-war fascist scrub, a task none too simple to undertake much like Arrabal’s storytelling.

“Viva la Muerte” Limited Edition Won’t Be Around Long. Grab Your Copy Here!

EVILs Make Difficulties in Finding God. “Agnes” reviewed! (Magnet Releasing / Digital Screener)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Blemished man of the cloth, Father Donaghue, and a neophyte are summoned to perform the holy rite of exorcism on a possibly possessed nun, Sister Agnes.  Disadvantaged and forced by his own scandal, Father Donaghue is ordered by the local Bishop to oversee the matter before they ship him overseas to avoid further disgrace upon the Church, but the skeptical priest, who has performed many exorcisms in the past, has never once believed he was casting out a demon but, rather, relieving a guilty, tormented soul seeking divine forgiveness.  When the priests confront Sister Agnes, the situation is violent, wily, and unlike any possession Father Donaghue has ever seen before.  The incident casts doubt over Sister Agnes’s friend and fellow nun, Sister Mary, who leaves the convent to try and live on her own and find God in the real world her own way, but a little bit of Sister Agnes has seemingly rubbed off onto her. 

You gotta have faith, sang once by pop-rocker and songwriter George Michael (and Fred Durst, if want to go that route) and though Mickey Reece’s “Agnes” doesn’t necessarily croon a rebuttal, the Oklahoma City born filmmaker surely splits hairs with a formidable blockade that advocates the crisis of faith cinematic model with layered horror.  The “Climate of the Hunter” writer-director’s latest quasi-horror-comedy and full-throttle religious drama questions the validities of finding God on a personal level with a divergently cut screenplay co-written with frequent script partner John Selvidge, whose current post-production penned time-warping horror entitled “Wait!” coming next year.   “Agnes” is filmed in the heartland of America inside Reece’s home state of central Oklahoma and is a reteaming of Mickey Reece and producer Jacob Snovel of Perm Machine with Greg Gilreath and Adam Hendricks’ Divide/Conquer (“Black Christmas” 2019 remake, “Freaky”) as the production companies and is first feature presentation for Molly C. Quinn, Matthew M. Welty, and Elan Gale’s QWGmire Productions.

One-third of the head of QWGmire is also the “Agnes” leading lady as Molly C. Quinn, who doesn’t play the titular character, plays Mary, a nun and friend of the possessed plagued Agnes (Hayley McFarland, “The Conjuring”) with a tragic background that ambiguously parallels a similar path to the mother of Jesus, also named Mary for all you non-Christians out there.  Mary is tender, quiet, and self-effacing but determined to pave her own way without the means of charity, especially those of the unsavory-favor nature, and consulting God for answers.  Quinn is perfect to shoulder Mary’s innocent disposition and does carry her naïve meekness throughout up until Mary’s gradual decline toward her faith that turns the sweet and innocent young woman into a pragmatic doubter, spurred by Agnes’ sudden otherworldly turn from devout to impiety that becomes more than what meets the eye.  However, in kicking off Reece’s film, one would have thought the exorcism of Agnes would emphasize more heavily on Father Donaghu (Ben Hall, “Minari”) and soon-to-be priest Benjamin (Jake Hororwitz, “Castle Freak” remake), but despite the involved build up of Father Donahu’s sordid past that conflicts with the Church and his struggles with the exorcism, Reece and Selvidge ultimately do, in what feels like, a pulling of the plug on a storyline that followings in the footsteps of “The Exorcist.”  That is, in my opinion, the downfall of “Agnes’” story in elimination of really interesting character arcs right in their girthy throes, leaving audiences hanging on Father Donaghu, grocer owner/low-end gangster Curly (Chris Sullivan, “This is Us” and “I Trapped the Devil”), ostentatiously swaggering Father Black (Chris Browning, “Let Me In”) and even the titular character Agnes fails to flesh out fully.  Rachel True (“The Craft”), Zandy Hartig, Bruce Davis, Chris Freihofer, Ginger Gilmartin, Mary Buss, and “Guardians of the Galaxy” and “Suicide Squad’s” Sean Gunn as a standup comedian and Mary’s love interest.

“Agnes” loosely follows a couple of Catholic patroness saints in Agnes and Mary derided in a contrary sense.  Agnes, the virgin martyr in Catholic veneration, opposes the Church in the film with flashbacks of her embracing an indulgent life along with her sexual insults that’s uncouth for the patroness saint of pure little girls.  Mary’s a little more recognizable with a previous, ambiguous account of her child’s death (aka Jesus Christ?).  Plus, there’s the religious imagery, amongst others in the film, of Mary with bleeding eyes as an analogous to the weeping statues. Reece blatantly shows most men and women of the cloth to be unorthodox Orthodox Catholics from Father Donaghu’s troubling allegations to the mocking head priests. Mother Superior throws around her superiority amongst the convent nuns and even the Bishop, who doesn’t ever say a word in his brief scene, appears smug and high and mighty with his stature, letting his assistant communicate (and excommunicate) all the ugly business. Only a non-priest, training to be ordained, in Benjamin is the only innocent, infallible Christian who captures the humble essence of God and the only one who can capable in rejuvenating Mary’s faith. “Agnes” is all about doubting faith whether be by demonic possession, the loss of a child, all forms of corruption, and more, but Mary keeps striving, struggling, and searching for that spiritual lifeline amongst seedy and unscrupulous faithless charlatans slowly poisoning her to be the same. However, the “Agnes” story divides too sharply leaving the acute crisis of faith to be nearly lost in translation and is practically a wandering spectrum of identity that’s roughly craft glued together by Reece.

Some may see the film’s poster and excitedly expect Nunsploitation but the reality of “Agnes” digs at the hypocrisy of people and the endless search for faith. What it’s not is the sexual exploitation or sadomasochism of chaste nuns. Give Mickey Reece’s horror-comedy drama “Agnes” a faithful shot come it’s December 10th theatrical release from Magnet Releasing, a subsidiary of Magnolia Pictures. “Agnes” has a runtime of 93 minutes and presented in a 2.55:1 aspect ratio. Typical of any Mickey Reece film, his melodramatic horror-comedy fits into his oeuvre of talking head cinema so leave expectations of brooding and atmospheric milieus at the door for more realistic, down-to-Earth scenes, which is a bit surprising since the cinematographer behind “Hellraiser: Judgement” and “Children of the Corn: Runaway,” Samuel Calvin, has an eye for unhallowed aesthetics. Calvin does produce some perfectly poised shots with the flock of nuns and the ever slightly deviant angle to sharpen a scene. No bonus features were included with the digital screener nor were there any bonus scenes during or after the credits. “Agnes” floats on a haphazard timeline of dark, melodrama comedy for a desperate need of faith against the immense heartache, the crudely selfish, and the absence of morality all of which incessantly imposes upon the good to assimilate.