Kill List (UK, 2011)
Directed by Ben Wheatley
Starring Neil Maskell, Michael Smiley, MyAnna Buring, Emma Fryer

It's fast becoming a cliché of my reviews to say that a sign of a promising filmmaker is their ability to retune generic conventions to create something both unique and conscious of its place. Like Guillermo Del Toro's Cronos some 18 years before it, Kill List is a triumph on these terms, moving between distinct genres in a smooth and disturbing manner. And while it never entirely live up to the hype, Ben Wheatley's second film is nonetheless a nuanced, brutal and remarkable thriller.Kill List's relationship with genre is such that it can move between the territories of three completely different films in a way which is totally seamless. It begins very much in the verité, kitchen-sink style: the dinner party scenes are shot with intimate hand-held cameras, and contain the same level of repressed, explosive tension which is present in the work of Mike Leigh. In its middle act it moves firmly into hitman thriller territory, showing our two male characters going about their business and struggling to pass the time in between jobs. Finally it moves into full-blooded supernatural horror, with an ending which, while somewhat incoherent, is strange and terrifying.The film's relationship with horror is anchored in two particular films. The first is Angel Heart, Alan Parker's stylish and graphic re-telling of Faust which retools the conventions of film noir. There is the same feeling of the world, or perhaps the devil, slowly closing in on our troubled central protagonist. Like Harry Angel, Jay unknowingly refuses every offer of help and disregards any chance of salvation. While Harry turns down an egg, saying that he has a thing about chickens, Jay threatens the leader of the Christian group at the hotel, saying he will make him swallow a plate if he doesn't stop playing his guitar.The other horror reference point for Kill List is The Wicker Man (although, as I mentioned in my review, its status as a horror film could be disputed). The main comparison is in the role of a pagan or supernatural cult, drawing our protagonist to a certain place and time where he will, to coin a phrase, cast off his former nature. There is a subversion of The Wicker Man's climax in the ending of Kill List: rather than being sacrificed by the cult, he is subversively accepted, with the murder of his final victims being an initiation. But the film utilises pagan-esque imagery through, particularly in the recurring image of the three-pronged gallows.In terms of its contribution to the horror and thriller genres, the film attempts to do what Dead Man's Shoes did for the revenge thriller. Shane Meadows' gripping film, perhaps the best of its kind since Get Carter, pushes the revenge conventions as far as it can, and then pulls the rug out from under us with an ending which shows the deep humanity which has been destroyed by what has unfolded. Kill List doesn't quite achieve that level of power, but it still manages to find the human suffering in amongst the brutal violence and generic conventions, and for that it deserves to be praised.In its opening sections, Kill List examines the mental and psychological state of soldiers returning home after military action. Jay loves his family but is unable to readapt to the demands of modern life. When his son asks for a bedtime story, he recalls a mission in the Middle East, changing the place to 'Baghdadistan' in a vague attempt to claim it wasn't real. Even something as simple as doing the shopping is beyond him; at the beginning of the film his partner berates him for coming back with nothing but tins of tuna and wine. These scenes tread close to the closing section of The Hurt Locker (amongst others), but they don't feel half as choreographed or forced.The film, and its opening section in particular, hangs on the brilliant central performance of Neil Maskell. Having worked solidly in small supporting roles - including an appearance in Basic Instinct 2 - this could be the performance which brings him the attention he deserves. Jay is a complex ball of violent energy, being equally well-meaning and sociopathic, and displaying the same impulsive passion for violence as Sonny Corleone in The Godfather. You spend the film trying to figure him out, wondering exactly what happened in Kiev, while all the time being terrified that if he looks at you the wrong way, you could be next.

When it becomes a thriller, Kill List uses the various killings of Jay and Gal to hold up a mirror on society's attitude to violence. There is an implication that the targets are involved in creating or distributing extreme forms of pornography; although we never see the evidence, we come to believe that children are involved. The film is a snapshot of public outrage at sex scandals and paedophilia, with each of the people on the list being associated with such acts: one is a priest, one a librarian, and one an MP. Jay is the expression of the public's anger, the embodiment of all those vitriolic texts and letters to tabloid newspapers. By having him go so far to achieve his goal, the film demonstrates that, if provoked in a particular way, we are capable of acting without any concept of mercy, morality or restraint.When Ben Wheatley was interviewed about Kill List, he compared it to the Arthurian legends, particularly the stories of various knights proving their worth to join the Round Table. This would explain the connection with witchcraft and ties in further with The Wicker Man, with Jay's actions being one elaborate ruse to bring him into a demonic cult. The brutal nature of Jay's murders, coupled with the shocking death of his final victim(s), subvert whatever moral implications his actions had. In going so far in the name of what he thought was right, he has sunk further into the darkness; he has proved his worth, and been left a broken shell.

There are subtle hints throughout the film that Jay may be the mark in this elaborate and macabre operation. When we first meet Gal, we find him likeable and jovial enough, but during the scenes in the hotel we begin to suspect that he may be more deeply involved. The meetings in the hotel, where Struan Rodger pays Jay and Gal for the killings, are akin to the scenes in Angel Heart where Louis Cyphre engages the services of Harry Angel. Finally, all of Jay's victims to heard to say "thank you" before he kills them - something which has drawn criticism because of its relationship to the violence.Kill List's biggest asset is its amazing sense of atmosphere. Its brilliant sense design, masterminded by Martin Pavey, creates an almost Lynchian level of unease. The film is deeply unnerving and intensely claustrophobic, and the recurrence of bells in Jim Williams' soundtrack hints at both the death knolls of the victims and the slow death of Jay and Gal as they journey deeper into the abyss. The moments of humour in the film, such as Gal explaining why they use an Astra rather than a BMW, are both brief moments of relief and every bit as awkward as the events around them.Even for seasoned horror fans, the violence in Kill List is incredibly brutal. It is perhaps the most brutal depiction of violence since Irreversible, which starts with someone getting their head smashed in with a fire extinguisher. The argument for the violence in Kill List is the same as it was 9 years ago: it is brutal and repulsive because there is nothing about these actions that are justifiable. One's tolerance of the violence will depend on the strength of one's stomach, something reinforced by the unflinching nature of Wheatley's camera. The knee-capping sequence is the real test, and many will regard this as being over-the-top.The more unsatisfying element of Kill List is its ending. In terms of narrative and genre, it adds up; there is nothing nonsensical or absurd about what happens to Jay and Gal. But this is also the point where the camerawork becomes deficient, and the film threatens to tip over into the more histrionic and boring end of found-footage. The tunnel sequence is really, really terrifying, but by the time we get to the fight it has started to drag, and the constant cutting to black does become annoying.Kill List is a remarkable second feature which is destined for cult status among horror fans. It fulfils the promise of Down Terrace as a film which is mindful of its place in genre but which also has thematic and character ambitions beyond that. It isn't quite the masterpiece that critics have claimed: the ending is a little incoherent, and many people will struggle to sit through the brutal violence. But there can be no denying its worth as a socially pertinent and deeply scary horror film, which at its best gives Angel Heart a run for its money.

Rating:
Verdict: Tense, tough and truly terrifying

The Orphanage (Spain/ Mexico, 2007)
Directed by Juan Antonio Bayona
Starring Belen Rueda, Fernando Cayo, Roger Princep, Geraldine Chaplin

Mainstream horror in the early-21st century has become defined by inept remakes, unnecessary reboots, and an uncreative obsession with physical mutilation embodied by so-called 'torture porn'. But even as the genre was taken to new lows with Roland Joffé's utterly vile Captivity, there were a couple of reasons to be cheerful about being a horror fan. The first was Pan's Labyrinth, and the second is The Orphanage.The Orphanage is the latest chapter in the reinvention of horror and fantasy cinema spearheaded by Guillermo Del Toro and his counterparts. Although ostensibly directed by Juan Antonio Bayona, Del Toro's fingerprints are all over this stylish and chilling ghost story which breathes new life into the haunted house sub-genre and the lost child motif. While not on a par with Pan's Labyrinth, it is a worthy companion to both Del Toro's own ghost story The Devil's Backbone and to the classic cinematic ghost stories of the early-1960s.Because of its ghost story heritage, The Orphanage is immediately comparable to The Innocents, The Haunting and most recently The Others, in its emphasis on the unknown and its use of suggestion and paranoia rather than shock and gore to bring out true terror in an audience. There are also connections with Don't Look Now and Dark Water in the central thread of a family attempting to cope with the loss of their child, and in the resulting encounters with the spirit world where the intentions of the spirits are decidedly ambiguous.Like these great ghost stories, The Orphanage is on one level about dealing with grief - or more specifically, the idea that being able to make contact with the world beyond this would be in some way cathartic. Just as Julie Christie feels at ease after the psychic sister tells her that her daughter is safe and happy, so Belen Rueda allows the medium into her home on the grounds that she might be able to make contact with Simon. And as with Don't Look Now, direct communication with the supernatural lifts the lid off Pandora's Box, compelling Rueda's character to pursue her son even at the cost of her own life.If you want proof of the strength of the production, both in its direction and its script, you need look no further than the sequence involving the medium, played in a good performance by Geraldine Chaplin. Utilising the same hand-held, infrared aesthetic of The Blair Witch Project or [Rec], this is the point where the film could fall apart and descend into nothing than scared faces intercut with loud bangs. But though the content of these scenes are naturally creepy, Bayona never allows the tone to get too hysterical. He keeps cutting back to the crew observing and recording the medium, keeping our focus on the reasons behind the set-piece rather than simply expecting us to be scared.The Orphanage utilises a number of different techniques which combine seamlessly to keep the shivers flowing down our spine. The most prominent technique is the use of suggestion, with the long shadowy corridors and creaky floorboards of the orphanage leading us to imagine we are seeing something we are not. The masks worn by the children at the welcome party also have a macabre, creepy quality, being reminiscent of the Venetian masks worn in the mansion scenes of Eyes Wide Shut. But there are also one or two scenes of physicalized horror to provide variety, including a shattered and disproportioned face worthy of Rob Bottin.But beyond scaring us purely as a technical exercise, The Orphanage uses its chilling atmosphere to explore other issues beyond that of grief and catharsis. On a broader level it explores the way in which life and death intertwine, merge and even co-exist within a given place. The orphanage is presented as both a physical entity rooted in the present and as a portal into the past - a vessel, if you like, for the souls of the children who lived there. The crime that was committed there all those years ago has caused their souls to remain there, like a dark mark on history, and they now seek company in the form of Laura to comfort them and explain their fate.There are big overtones of Peter Pan in The Orphanage which influence its view of the afterlife and the role of the central character. The children at the orphanage are like the Lost Boys, both in their status as orphans and the fact that they will never age. Simon's fondness for the book, games and his 'imaginary friends' stems from a desire to remain young forever; when teamed with the knowledge that he is dying, his insolent rejection of his parents becomes a yearning for something or somewhere where death is no longer feared.If the ghost children are the Lost Boys and Simon is one of the Darling children, Laura begins as the sceptical parent but ends up rediscovering her childhood self and taking on the role of Wendy. There is a through-line with Pan's Labyrinth here in the idea of a central female protagonist who has forgotten her true identity, and who must find her true self through a series of challenges. But The Orphanage puts its own spin on it, characterising Neverland as the afterlife and the physical act of death as the gateway to staying young forever.This emphasis on childhood and childlikeness slips over into the behaviour of the ghosts with regard to their human companions. In the earlier sections of the film, The Orphanage seems to side with The Haunting in portraying the supernatural as something inherently and inexplicably malevolent, as shown by Tomas slamming Laura's finger in the bathroom door and then locking her in. But as things move on the ghosts' nature becomes more clearly playful; like children, they do as they please because they do not know the consequences of their actions. Any perception of threat is less down to their intentions as our preconceptions about death and the afterlife.There is a further comparison with The Haunting in the question of whether the events which transpire at the orphanage have any form of rational explanation. In the final scene, where the source of the scraping sounds is revealed, we gain some kind of understanding as to where the boundary between the explicable and the inexplicable lies. But up until then The Orphanage is great at keeping us guessing, generating real suspense during the night sequences which build to a heart-breaking last ten minutes.The Orphanage is also visually beautiful. Oscar Faura, who most recently shot Julia's Eyes, captures the haunting quality of the orphanage through a careful selection of pale blues, faded browns and a meticulous choice of shadows. The film has a sumptuous quality to it which makes its harsher moments all the more frightening. The performances are also of a high quality, with Belen Rueda anchoring the film in a portrayal which combines panic, dignity, sorrow and despair while never seeming anything less than human.The Orphanage is a first-class ghost story which confirms horror's ability, in the right hands, to address profound and insightful issues in a manner which is not only immersive, but sensitive, touching and intensely memorable. Because of its strong resemblance to Del Toro's work, it's hard to say how much of its success lies with Bayona, or whether he will be able to achieve this level of results under his own steam. But in the meantime it should be celebrated for what it is, namely an intelligent, heart-breaking chiller which will stay with you for a very long time.

Rating:
Verdict: A creepy and heart-breaking chiller