Through the transformation of the glorious WTF-Films into the even more
glorious Exploder
Button and the ensuing server changes, some of my old columns for
the site have gone the way of all things internet. I’m going to repost them here
in irregular intervals in addition to my usual ramblings.
Please keep in mind these are the old posts without any re-writes or
improvements. Furthermore, many of these pieces were written years ago, so if
you feel offended or need to violently disagree with me in the comments, you can
be pretty sure I won’t know why I wrote what I wrote anymore anyhow.
A group of ex-teenagers is planning a nice outdoors vacation at a lake with a
quite unpronounceable name, situated, it seems, somewhere in the deep dark woods
of New York State.
The friends pick up the shady yet helpful hitchhiker Jack (Clark Tufts). The
new-found acquaintance informs them that they have gotten themselves a little
lost and are still hours away from their destination. Everybody's getting a bit
cranky and stressed out now, and the odious comic relief is beginning to get to
them too, so the friends decide to look for a place to hole up in for the
night.
After a bit of driving, they do indeed find an old, dark and seemingly
abandoned house in the middle of the woods (as you do) and decide to try their
luck there.
It's a peculiar place. What must once have been the building's garden is now
dominated by a wrecked car that is propped up on a marble slab as if it were
some sort of shrine. One of the friends, Helen (Claudia Franjul), is prone to
hunches - and would be a clear candidate for being the final girl in most other
slashers - and declines categorically to enter the house that frightens her with
its "aura of evil". Her friends, not even her boyfriend Tony (Greg Rhodes),
don't care much about what she says, so Helen decides to make her way back to
the road in the hope to hitch a ride with one of the millions of cars that must
be driving around in the woods. That's the last anyone will see of her
alive.
The rest of the merry band decides to break into the house through its barn.
Inside, the place is even more peculiar than from the outside. In a cellar that
connects the barn to the main house are two empty coffins, yet that's still not
enough to dissuade the rather dense friends from getting the hell away from
there.
The main house isn't any less creepy. Most of its walls are plastered with
(frequently nude) photos of a dark-haired woman (Jennifer Delora) in strangely
disquieting poses. A little later, the friends find a cupboard full of human
scalps.
It also seems as if someone had been living in the house just the day before.
Still, they being in a horror film and all, the young people decide to stay the
night. It's cold outside after all, and who wants to sleep in a car?
It's not a very good decision. Throughout the night, ever more peculiar
things begin to happen. Someone uses the horn of the enshrined car outside, a
coffin opens, Tony finds a photo album full of pictures of the neatly posed
corpses of bikers and then dreams (but is it a dream?) of having sex with the
creepy woman from walls. A masked woman sneaks around. A crack opens in one of
the walls. And finally, someone starts to murder the friends.
Deadly Manor is the next to last film in the long and difficult
career of Spanish genre film specialist Jose Ramon Larraz (probably best known
for the most disturbing of all Lesbian vampire films, Vampyres). At
this late point in his career, Larraz had the usual problems of interesting
genre filmmakers of his generation in scratching together enough money to
realize any movie at all, so making something that could be interpreted as a
slasher movie must have sounded like a good idea at that time to him and his
producers. Commercially speaking, it wasn't. The film turned out to be a hard
sell to distributors and was never widely seen.
It's quite a shame, really, because Larraz does a few interesting thing with
the tired slasher movie formula. Of course, getting surprising inside the
context of the slasher isn't too difficult a proposition. The sub-genre is so
heavily codified, so set in its ways that even the most minimal of variations
feels fresh and exciting - at least to someone who has inflicted as many of
these films on himself as I have over the years. A film like this one, in which
what would be the final girl dies early on, and in which people die in an order
that goes quite against slasher rules, feels like a real breath of fresh
air.
Larraz also adds neat little flourishes of realism (for a slasher movie),
with scenes of body transportation that seem to hint at the director putting a
bit of thought into the logistics of his killings.
The logistics of dragging bodies around aren't the only thing Larraz has put
a bit more thought into than usual in this sub-genre. I wouldn't go as far as to
call the film's characters deep, but where the usual slasher kiddie is just a
one-note victim, the characters here show signs of being people. Except for
their staying in the house of doom, they even tend to act halfway believably.
The acting is quite alright too, and only helps to strengthen this aspect of the
film.
Of course, being a bit better thought-through than the typical late-period
slasher movie doesn't make a movie that interesting for anyone outside
of the genre completist. Surprisingly enough (or not, when you keep the
experience of its director in mind), Deadly Manor has a lot more going
for it than just that.
Although parts of the film are trying to be a little more believable than
usual, the other half of the film, what I'd call its heart, comes from a
completely different direction. Larraz, old hand at the slow, slow build-up of
atmosphere and the cinema of the weird, seems to have set his mind onto the
re-weirdification of the slasher formula. Too many films of the sub-genre are
satisfied with just fulfilling the requirements of formula, losing the ability
to be truly disquieting in the process and not getting much (by 1990 not even an
audience anymore) in exchange. Larraz' film isn't. Instead, the director piles
on the strangeness once his characters have left the prosaic world and entered
the house, giving his movie a very dream-like/nightmarish mood slasher movies
seldom consciously try to evoke. There's something about the way Larraz films
his old dark house, branches scratching against windows and the photos that fill
the house that puts the film as much into the tradition of the director's older
European horror movies as in that of the slasher. One could also argue that the
interest in mood before anything else closely connects the film to proto-slasher
movies like Hooper's Texas Chainsaw Massacre or the earliest full-grown
slashers like Halloween, and that might well be true.
Still, I think even that part of the American slasher tradition is only a
thin veneer of paint put on top of something strange and frightening very much
Larraz' own.
This, however, is only Deadly Manor's strength if you want it to be.
Go in expecting a quick revue of kills and excitement, and you will probably be
terribly disappointed by the film's sedate pacing, and its insistence on
creating a mood of the weird more than one of outright horror. But if you give
the film a chance at being the more personal creature it is, you can find much
to like in it.
Friday, October 21, 2016
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