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

Apocalypse Now (USA, 1979)
Directed by Francis Ford Coppola
Starring Martin Sheen, Marlon Brando, Robert Duvall, Dennis Hopper

When it comes to reviewing films, there are two kinds of masterpieces. One is the film in which every single scene is immaculately perfect, and your emotional involvement supports and compliments this perfection. The other, more contentious kind is a film which on paper is riddled with faults, but the experience of watching it is so intoxicating that all such faults can be forgiven or forgotten.With war films, the first camp is defined by Full Metal Jacket and the second by Apocalypse Now. Where Stanley Kubrick's film is meticulously constructed and judged to clinical precision, Francis Ford Coppola's is simultaneously a bloated, meandering mess and one of the greatest films of all time. Full Metal Jacket is the more accessible and perhaps more rewarding, but on the big screen Apocalypse Now is nothing short of knockout, as all the elements of Coppola's epic collide in a full-on and frightening story of darkness, madness and war.As with so many great films, the production history of Apocalypse Now leads us to believe that things should have turned out very differently. John Milius, who had written much of Clint Eastwood's dialogue in Dirty Harry, drafted a loose adaptation of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness by the middle of 1969. Originally titled The Psychedelic Soldier, George Lucas was set to direct before being hired to helm American Graffiti. In 1974 the project came to Coppola, who had just seen both The Conversation and The Godfather Part II nominated for the Best Picture Oscar.

Shooting for the re-titled Apocalypse Now began in March 1976 and was scheduled to last for five months. Soon after shooting began, Harvey Keitel was replaced by Martin Sheen and in May the entire set was destroyed by Typhoon Olga. When filming resumed a month later, Marlon Brando turned up heavily overweight and completely bald; Coppola compensated by dressing him in black, shooting him in shadow and using a body double in the wide shots. While shooting the ending in 1977, Sheen suffered a heart attack and had to walk a quarter of mile to get medical attention. By the time Coppola finished editing the film for release in August 1979, Apocalypse Now was two years late and three times over budget.If you attempted to write down all the things that are wrong with Apocalypse Now, it wouldn't take you long to get quite a big list. For a start, the film is too long - or at least, it feels too long. The story of Captain Willard travelling up the Nung River unfolds at a very leisurely pace, with every section of the river having some major significance in terms of plot or mood. There is no montage or time-lapse footage of the boat rapidly reaching the Cambodian border, and the longer it goes on the less sure you feel that Coppola actually knew where the story was going.There is a very fine line in screenwriting between poetic and ponderous, and Apocalypse Now crawls along this line like the snail on the edge of a straight razor. The actual scenes of Brando reading poetry in the temple are dull; the fact that we can't always make out what he's saying annoys us at first, but after a few lines we couldn't care less. By the time you have reached the temple, you are more or less certain that there will be some kind of brutal final confrontation between Willard and Kurtz, so that even as you sit there soaking up T. S. Eliot, you wish that things would get a move on.Then there is the problem of characters. Martin Sheen is absolutely terrific as Captain Willard, and in spite of his incoherence Marlon Brando manages to match him in the last truly good performance of his career. But as is the way with epics, a lot of the supporting cast don't get even half the screen time they deserve. When you've got a film featuring Harrison Ford, Robert Duvall and Dennis Hopper, you expect them to be on screen a lot. But only Duvall gets the screen time and the character depth he needs, with the other two becoming largely superfluous.Finally, there are aspects of Apocalypse Now which reek of the indulgence present in New Hollywood and 1970s filmmaking in general. This is typified by Coppola's self-referential cameo as the director of a war documentary; Sheen walks into his shot at the river mouth, and he shouts: "Don't look at the camera! Keep on fighting!". If Coppola was making a point about the psychological role of a director, it's handled a lot more clumsily and self-importantly than Peeping Tom. Add in the sequence of a live cow actually being butchered and you have more than enough reason to dismiss this film.So far, Apocalypse Now would seem like the Vietnam equivalent of Gone With the Wind: commendable for its scale and ambition, but over-long with too many characters and several questionable scenes. And yet, for all the truth in what I have said, none of it really matters. For Apocalypse Now is not a film to be dissected but to be experienced; it will burn its way into your synapses in a mixture of horror and wonder. Watching it is less like making a Swiss watch than walking into a cloud of hallucinogenic vapours. If you refuse to go with it, you won't get it, but if you do, it'll be one hell of a trip.Instead of recreating the experience of Vietnam with a deliberate and calculated sense of hindsight, Apocalypse Now seeks to put the audience in the same place as the soldiers so they can decide how war felt and why men behaved the way they did. Because the script was written during the war, there is no attempt made by Coppola to lecture the audience one way or the other. There are no easy answers to the questions of right and wrong, and the film's slow, meandering tone is vital for us to soak up as much information as we can. Whatever our conclusions, we feel like we've been through hell with these characters, and been changed irrevocably by the horrors of war.So much of Apocalypse Now is about the chaos of war, and so it's appropriate (at least to some extent) that the film should feel out of control. The relaxed discussions at the beginning, in which Willard's mission is laid out, give us some kind of grounding so that we know where he will end up. But the film is populated by profound and moving insights into the inherent anarchy and absurdity of war. These range from Robert Duvall's insistence on surfing at the beach to the post near the Cambodian border where the troops are fighting without a commanding officer. These scenes produce reactions ranging from laughter to sadness to genuine fright, and often all three at once.Apocalypse Now keeps adding more and more literary aspects to its central story, like someone throwing books into a library that had just been set on fire. The final showdown between Willard and Kurtz is an inventive restaging of The Golden Bough, in which the murderer kills the mad king and becomes king himself. Much of Martin Sheen's dialogue is culled from Michael Herr's Dispatches, which would later be used by Kubrick on Full Metal Jacket. And Kurtz takes on aspects of both Eliot's 'The Hollow Men' and Genghis Khan, whom Coppola studied while the sets were rebuilt.

At the heart of Apocalypse Now is the darkness at the heart of all mankind, and the ability of such darkness to consume all that is good and just and sane if fully unleashed. Kurtz has tipped over into this darkness by his experiences in Vietnam. The war has caused him to see the futility and the nonsense in his orders, and he now lives out his days as a hollow man who has understood evil at the cost of losing his soul. Willard kills Kurtz to fulfil his mission, but the very act of obedience threatens to tip him over into the same darkness. Although he manages to resist, he leaves Kurtz's kingdom as a shell of a man, his life shattered by knowledge of that same evil.Apocalypse Now is a truly extraordinary piece of work which is fully deserving of its masterpiece status. In spite of its myriad flaws, it retains an indescribable aura which leaves us shrinking into our seats, mesmerised and paralysed with fear and wonder. It's a film which damaged both Coppola as a filmmaker and the New Hollywood movement, whose reputation for indulgence had finally caught up with them. But at the dawn of the blockbuster age, it is a fantastic last hurrah and remains one of the most extraordinary experiences in American cinema.

Rating:
Verdict: New Hollywood's last hurrah