Review: BERBERIAN SOUND STUDIO

Argento. Bava. Martino. Fulci. Lenzi. Not the names of directors that everyone will be instantly familiar with but among fans of their chosen genre, giallo, they are hugely respected. Giallo is a catch-all term for a certain type of pulpy Italian thriller that rose to prominence in the 1970s with highly stylised visuals and scenes of extreme violence.

Director Peter Strickland has chosen to set Berberian Sound Studio, his latest film following 2009’s Katalin Varga, in the world of those giallo films. Quite literally; it takes place in the 1970s at the eponymous post-production studio where Englishman abroad, Gilderoy (Toby Jones), has been drafted in as a sound engineer on just such a film.

Gilderoy is a buttoned-up, unimposing figure still living with his mother and used to working on pastoral British works. He is immediately at odds with the brash, glamourous Italians and more concerned with doggedly attempting to reclaim expenses than the bella signorina he is dealing with in order to. His fastidious work ethic clashes with Italian methods, not least from producer Francesco (Cosimo Fusco), and it begins to take its mental toll.

To call it an assault on the senses would be to do it a disservice. It is a sensory celebration and a sonic appreciation of film itself. The film fetishises vintage recording equipment in a series of extreme close-ups which run throughout the duration. Considering the subject matter it is no surprise that the sound design of the film is remarkable. Scenes of Jones carrying out Foley work (using objects to recreate sound effects required for a film) are a joy to observe. Using and abusing enough watermelons, cabbages, marrows and radishes to make a hideous stew, it is an occasionally comic insight into what goes into making scenes of horror above and beyond the visuals.

For cinephiles, the film is a dream with a focus on technical aspects that assumes a prior knowledge of the way films are made. It positively worships film lore in a way that might leave some feeling excluded. There is a crucial authenticity in its depiction and is helped by the creation of film-within-a-film that seems entirely plausible. While the film is a drama thick with artistry, there are times when it would make for an excellent behind the scenes extra on a DVD.

It is worth noting that Berberian Sound Studio itself is not a horror-thriller like those it depicts. There is barely anything in the film you would identify with the genre. It is even left to your imagination what the characters see on screen in the film they are working on. It is, however, a sublime psycho-drama which focuses on a character whose boundaries between reality and fiction are rapidly melting and decaying like the gruesome pits of rotten vegetables the film lingers on.

The key reference point for this film would be David Lynch’s Lost Highway (although a good knowledge of Italian gialli will reap dividends in being able to spot references to genre traits, such as black leather gloves). While the world it takes place in is very different, there is a structural similarity that upends the entire film in a similar way.

It is an enigmatic spectacle that conducts its scenes like a symphony. Enjoyment will be dependent on how open you are to seeing something with a resolution that doesn’t make conventional sense and will leave you more puzzled than instantly gratified.

There are enough twists and breakdowns to leave you chewing it over for days after, trying to unlock its mystery – and that is a good thing. It is refreshing to see something so cineliterate and compelling without giving you any easy answers as to what it was about it that grips you from start to finish.

★★★★★

The original version of this review was published at STV.tv

Tweet

Review: V/H/S

Like vinyl records before it, there is a growing wave of nostalgia for VHS tapes developing and this horror anthology attempts to tap into a yearning for the lost days of the video nasty. From nine different directors (including hot property in the genre, Ti West) across six films, V/H/S harks back to films like Creepshow and Cat’s Eye but adopts the current trend for found footage as a device; Tapes from the Crypt, if you will.

The advice when watching any portmanteau film also applies here: not every part will be good. It cuts back to one short as a buffer between films but there is no clear reason why that particular film should be the one. It is the least satisfying and if anything confuses things further. It could have done with something a bit more unifying hanging them together rather than just an aesthetic.

As far as the style of the film goes, enjoyment will largely be dependent on your tolerance levels for constantly dizzying camerawork that is always moving and spinning wildly. At the level it is applied here, it becomes headache inducing. The grainy first-person perspective, as ever, stretches credulity especially when faced with threatening situations but some parts do attempt to justify it.

The first proper story sets the bar very high as a group of obnoxious lads cross paths with a succubus. Think of it as a form of payback for Project X as a group of similarly misogynist yobs get their comeuppance. Ti West’s story is a more laid back affair which follows a couple’s journey down Route 66 where they attract the attentions of an unwanted visitor. It is creepily effective and strikes a balance between developed characters and jolt scares.

Other films attempt to do something a bit different including one which uses a webcam to hilarious effect. It is a shame that it was beaten to the punch slightly in this area by last year’s The Pact and Paranormal Activity 4 but it remains an innovate use of simultaneous point of view and reaction shots. Another goes all-out with a blistering haunted house film with remarkably good special effects. The only disappointing entry represents a dip in the middle of the film as it riffs on the ‘teenagers in the woods’ staple to no real effect.

The litmus test for any horror film though is whether or not it is scary and the answer here is unequivocally yes. The plentiful laughs and a nice visual gimmick are decoration - although it remains to be seen why it carries the title V/H/S when many of the films use a mix of far more up-to-date technology.

A few of the chapters can’t quite sustain their lengths, especially in this format, and it would have been helped by an ending which sought to tie it all together a bit more. Some might have been hoping for it to be transgressive, rather than the solid but unremarkable mix that it is, but as a loving tribute and innovative representation of the new wave, there’s no higher compliment than to say there are parts you will want to rewind and watch over. Now that surely makes it a film worth tracking.

★★★★★

The original version of this review was published at STV.tv

Tweet