Josh Ralske – Bitch Flicks

Author/Screenwriter Amy Koppelman on Sarah Silverman and ‘I Smile Back’

“Redemption is always something that comes up, and I never understand that — why we need to find redemption or have redemption in books or movies.”

Amy Koppelman didn’t have an easy time getting her second novel published, and it’s not too difficult to understand why. I Smile Back is a painfully blunt look at living with mental illness and addiction, and takes place largely inside the head of Laney (Sarah Silverman), a well-to-do stay-at-home mom whose husband, Bruce (Josh Charles), is making a fortune in insurance. It’s clear that Bruce loves Laney, and her elementary school-aged children, Eli (Skylar Gaertner) and Janey (Shayne Coleman), need her. Abandoned as a child by her own father, Laney struggles mightily with the day-to-day responsibilities of parenting and being a partner. She finds herself drawn to illicit sex, drugs, and turmoil. She seems to have everything, so it’s sometimes difficult to empathize with her plight.

Reading Koppelman’s poetic prose, with its heavy use of repetition, metaphor, and ellipsis, and its painstaking exploration of Laney’s unhinged mind, one doesn’t think, “Hey, this would make a good movie!” So it’s surprising that it does, in no small part thanks to Silverman’s raw performance.

Koppelman co-wrote the screenplay for the independent film adaptation of her novel, and the movie, directed by Adam Salky, is every bit as brutal as the book, if not more so. I spoke with Koppelman about how the unlikely film project came about, about its unique power, and about her new novel, Hesitation Wounds, which came out earlier this month.

Bitch Flicks: I heard a little bit about how this happened, how this turned into a film. I was hoping you could talk a little about that.

Amy Koppelman: I was driving up the West Side Highway to pick my son up from school. This was around five years ago, and I heard Sarah on the Howard Stern Show, and she was talking about her new book, her memoir [The Bedwetter], and she was talking about sadness. Or she was talking about loneliness and a sense of home. I think. This is what I remember. And I remember thinking, she’s gonna understand Laney. I have to get this book to her. I think all of us, whether you’re a writer or a carpenter — just as a human being — you just wanna be understood. So the whole project started with me wanting to get the book to her, because I knew she would understand what I was trying to say with Laney. And the miracle is that she opened it, and read it. And a couple of months later, we met at a hotel for coffee, and I was looking at her, and I just said, “If I adapted this, would you…” — and I think she felt bad for me cuz, you know, it was a paperback original. I couldn’t get a hardcover. The book was rejected over 80 times — “Would you consider acting in this?” And I think she just said, “Sure!” to be nice to me, because I remember going home and telling my husband, “Well, she was just humoring me.” But she said, “If it doesn’t suck.” And so I called my screenwriting partner, Paige Dylan. That was a bar I thought we could achieve. The “If it doesn’t suck” bar. That was how it started. It was written for her. Only for her.

When you’re writing a book like this… It certainly doesn’t strike me as something like “Oh! she knew this was gonna be a film from the beginning,” because so much of it is internal, in Laney’s head.

I never write thinking about things becoming movies. It was just one of those things. A couple of times in your life, you’ll experience magic. Maybe you’ll fall in love, or… and I just heard her, and it was really just one of those moments. I just thought, no, we can figure this out. Anything that’s lost in terms of internal dialogue, the amazing thing is that you can see it in her eyes. Every nuance comes out in Sarah’s performance.

The film, to me, almost seems a little bit harsher than the book.

You read the book?! Oh my God!

Yes, after I saw the movie I read the book.

And you thought the movie was more harsh?

Yes. Perhaps because it’s Josh Charles, and there’s something innately more sympathetic about.. You know, just seeing him. You want to like him. So her distance from him, her betrayal of him feels…

Right. Well, you can’t turn away in a movie.

That’s true, too.

And yes, he has the most compassionate eyes. It’s funny, the movie was done for only $400,000 so we only had one read-through and one like soup lunch to talk about it. His only real note was, what kind of man, if you really love your husband, would see your wife in the state that Laney’s in at the end of the film, and not help her? And I do think that you see, and you understand in the film, with him not going to her and helping her, how he had to make that decision. And I think in a way that’s more harsh, because in the book he doesn’t have the opportunity to say goodbye or not say goodbye. She makes the decision. I think for anybody who’s loved a person like Laney, they’re usually a very magnetic person, and somebody that’s really fun to be with, and when they’re up, there’s no one more exciting. So I think you hold onto the hope that that’s who they are, and if you love them enough, and you give them enough stability, that you can make them better. And I think in his eyes, you see him realizing that he has to protect his family, and he can’t make her better. I never thought about it. That’s why it’s more harsh. I always thought it was maybe because in the book there’s a little more humor? But it is because you realize… you see in him, he can’t fix her.

I hadn’t read the book yet when I saw the movie, but it hit me very hard. I’ve seen movies about people struggling with addiction and depression, and was wondering why I Smile Back has this power to it. And I think a lot of our expectations for a film like this are sort of gendered. If this was a film where the main character was a man, maybe we would expect it to have a different arc. Without realizing it, I really expected it to have a redemptive arc, because she’s a mom, and I think partly because she’s a woman, I thought she was going to get it together at the end for her kids. So that was harder.

I think that’s why she’s a very hard character to like. Because women, particularly moms who do the things that she does… A man who goes to Vegas and sleeps with some hooker to blow off steam, or has an affair with his secretary, I think we understand that. We almost forgive that to a certain extent. Not the case-by-case thing. You’ll say to your friend if that happens, “What a dick,” but I think societally we understand that much more than we understand a woman who has a loving husband who’s kind to her — who she loves — just fucking to escape. That’s still a taboo. Women are not supposed to fuck to escape. They’re supposed to have a need that’s nurturing, so I think that’s very hard for the Laney character. It was very important to me in the book, and as we were writing the movie, the thing that was most important to me was that you would know that Laney loved her children and loved Bruce, and she still loved them — for a while the book had a horrible title — I think it was called “A Single Act of Kindness” because in her mind she thought she was doing them a favor. I think we think that she’s going to be able to stay with her children because she loves them, but she can’t figure it out.

I think that’s how it really is for a lot of people, so I appreciated the brutal honesty of it.

Yeah. That’s good. It’s not for everybody.

Yeah. I guess not. It’s the kind of thing I like, if it’s about a real struggle that people go through and it reflects what that’s actually like.

Redemption is always something that comes up, and I never understand that — why we need to find redemption or have redemption in books or movies. I know for me, when I can read something or see something that’s able to articulate feelings or thoughts that I’ve had that I haven’t been able to access the words for, it gives me such a sense of relief. It makes me feel so much less lonely. And so that’s where I find redemption. The idea of a quick fix redemption, I’ve never gotten anything out of that.

That’s a very Hollywood thing, though. I guess if this was a studio film, there would have been pressure to include that. There wasn’t anything like that, was there?

No. Somebody asked Mike Harrop, the producer, who was great, “Did you feel pressure to change the ending?” And he had such a good answer. He said, “We always knew the movie we were making wasn’t going to be for everybody, so we made it on a budget that could sustain itself.” I do think it’s funny. When you asked me about the beginning. I do read reviews that say “this is an obvious play for Sarah Silverman to make–” I laugh because no, that wasn’t what any of it was. She really just did us a favor really, and for some reason just let this part of herself be exposed. There was no calculation behind it. It was a little tiny movie.

I’m a big fan of hers, so I was not surprised that she was so good in it, and it never occurred to me that this was some sort of calculated career move.

Yeah, but that’s the sort of snarky reviewers would say “Well, this time of year we get the addiction…” and I just think, if that makes you feel better, to look at it that way…

It also seems too small. It’s a low budget film, and she’s not — I think she’s great in the film, but she’s not the kind of name actor — It’s not Richard Gere playing a homeless guy.

There’s not a big Hollywood machine behind it, or even a big quasi-independent studio machine behind it. It just was a movie that should hopefully find the right audience of people who understand it and who will in some way feel less lonely, or less alone, whether they’re like Laney, or they love somebody like Laney.

Do you want to talk about how much of the book is rooted in personal experience?

The books that I write are very personal, in the sense that all the self-loathing and doubt and sadness and fear — those are all mine. All the ugliness of thought. But I don’t do any of the things that Laney does. As I say, I’ve been sleeping with the same guy for 25 years, and the only drugs I do are Zoloft and Wellbutrin. Thank God for Zoloft and Wellbutrin. [laughs]

Of course, yeah. There’s so much discussion about representation in the media. Do you feel any sense of responsibility to represent women in a particular way?

It’s the only area in my life where I am 100% pure. I write these little tiny books. I know that the chances of them getting published are small, so I don’t think about those things. I just think about being honest.

I wanted to ask you about your new book, Hesitation Wounds.

Thanks. Hesitation Wounds has the most of me in it, and I really care about the book, and I’m really scared that no one’s gonna review it, so no one’s gonna know about it. [laughs] It’s about a woman who specializes in treatment-resistant psychology, so she’s the last stop on the crazy train when the regular doctors can’t figure out the correct chemical cocktail, you go to her, and you hope that she can figure it out. She does a lot of electroshock therapy, and she gets this one patient, Jim, who reminds her of her brother. She’s forced to realize how much of her life she has not really allowed herself to live or to love because she’s so scared of being hurt. Her brother killed himself when she was young. I think it’s really a book about forgiveness of yourself for surviving. I think for many people who suffer from depression or alcoholism and mood disorders, getting better and surviving… I think sometimes we all feel guilty, and I think I’m scared. I know that for me, it’s been years and years since I had any real issue with depression and having to change medication, and there’s not a day that I don’t look over my shoulder wondering when it might hit me. It’s a book about living in spite of knowing that everyone you love is gonna leave you one day. But it’s worth it.

‘Supergirl,’ “Fight or Flight”: No One Puts Kara in a Refrigerator

Its blend of superpowered silliness and reflexive cultural commentary with a sincere emotional core is nearly Whedon-esque. And no, that’s not a bad thing at all.

Supergirl takes another solid step with its third episode, “Fight or Flight.” The special effects (a nuclear lightning bolt duel, our hero grabbing a handful of molten lava) still look cheap, but Melissa Benoist still shines as Kara/Supergirl, whether she’s playing goofily smitten (with James Olsen, played by Mehcad Brooks), brokenhearted, or spoiling for a fight, and this was the most well-paced and exciting episode yet.

It features a cameo from Kara’s cousin, Superman, who steps in when Kara takes on Reactron (Chris Browning) a nuclear-powered bad guy out for revenge against him. Revisiting a familiar comic book trope, Reactron decides to get to Superman by murdering his cousin. His plot comes surprisingly close to working, but this is Kara’s story. She’s not destined to die in order to motivate the male superhero’s transformation, as she makes clear.

Reactron flees from his first encounter with Kara after she short-circuits his nuclear core. He kidnaps engineering genius and asshole boss Maxwell Lord (Peter Facinelli, lining up another plum role after his great work on Nurse Jackie) and forces him to help fix his nuclear suit. With the help of scary glowy red-eyed Hank Henshaw (David Harewood), Alex (Chyler Leigh), Winn (Jeremy Jordan), and James, she tracks Reactron down, but with his newly repaired suit (thanks, Mr. Lord!), he gets the best of her, and seems about to finish her off when Superman steps in.

When Kara finds out that Supes arrived at James’ behest, she expresses not gratitude, but hurt and disappointment. She makes it clear to James that she needs to learn to stand on her own, to make her own story, and not be a supporting character in her cousin’s tale. Which is all great, especially when she proves that her faith in herself is well-placed.

Better still, the script, by Michael Grassi (Lost Girl) and Rachel Sukert is a little sharper than usual, and the direction, by Dennis Downs, a bit snappier. Kara also has to deal with the interview she gave, as Supergirl, to her unwitting boss, Cat Grant (Calista Flockhart, proving herself as integral to the show as Benoist). Cat isn’t running a puff piece, and the whole office is on edge because she’s writing it herself and getting hilariously stressed out in the process. (Nice plug for Bulletproof Coffee there.)

Hank gets annoyed with Kara for giving the interview, especially for mentioning that Superman is her cousin (after being goaded into it by Cat’s sexist questions). He wonders if she’ll do a reality show — “Keeping Up with the Kryptonians” — next.

Lucy Lane (Jenna Dewan Tatum), Lois’ sister, James’ ex, and a possible romantic rival for Kara, made her debut this episode, but Maxwell Lord is a more intriguing new character. I haven’t read the comics, but I did read Lord described as a villain in stories about Facinelli being cast. He does seem like a villain, but he’s a clever one. While James Frain chews the scenery as Theo Galivan over on Gotham, Facinelli’s Lord is surprisingly subtle and complex. Like Cat Grant, he’s an overly demanding and dismissive boss, but also like Grant, his arrogance isn’t completely unearned. It’s not surprising when the show hints at a romantic history the characters share.

This all bodes well for the series, which is actually starting to build some narrative momentum, in addition to hitting all the right notes about empowerment and representation that we want to see in a superhero show about a young woman. Its blend of superpowered silliness and reflexive cultural commentary with a sincere emotional core is nearly Whedonesque. And no, that’s not a bad thing at all. If this keeps up, I could easily go from merely admiring the show’s not-so-subtle subversion of a misogynistic culture to flat-out enjoying the damn thing.

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Supergirl Premiere: The Enemy of My Enemy Is Super

Supergirl Episode 1.2, “Stronger Together”: Boozing with RGB and Saving Snakes

‘Supergirl’ Episode 1.2, “Stronger Together”: Boozing with RBG and Saving Snakes

Overall, the show remains a fairly entertaining hour, with a refreshing take on femininity and power. In 2015, a superhero show with a likeable female lead and assorted other strong women characters and a little girl who loves her pet snake should not really be groundbreaking, but the sad fact is, it is, and while it has its flaws, I’m still grateful that it exists.

Supergirl is a hit! Despite a lot of whining from male comic book geeks and MRA types about its SJW attitude, the show had great ratings for its premiere, and pretty decent reviews as well, overall.

This week, the DEO investigated a chemical robbery that turned out to be a feeding, as a Hellgrammite (Justice Leak), one of the aliens that Kara/Supergirl (Melissa Benoist) accidentally brought with her when she passed through the Phantom Zone. It turns out the Hellgrammite eats DDT like it’s going out of style (which it has), which annoys supervillain Astra (Laura Benanti), who wants her alien underlings to keep a low profile on Earth until her plan is in motion. Astra decides to use him as bait to lure her niece Kara to her doom. Kara has other plans.

In fact, after causing an embarrassing oil spill while trying to keep a tanker from exploding, and getting her ass kicked by her sister Alex (Chyler Leigh) in a kryptonite-infused DEO fight room, Kara decides to take a step back and handle lower-level disasters like armed robberies and pets in trees (a little girl’s snake named Fluffy, to be precise). So when the Hellgrammite strikes, the DEO are the ones who go after him, and when Supergirl doesn’t show, he decides to bring Alex to Astra, hoping it will get the alien queen off his back.

Naturally, Kara steps up to rescue her sister. She’s shocked to run into her aunt, whom she assumed died on Krypton, because mom never told her that Aunt Astra was a baddie, and was sent to the Phantom Zone. Alex dispatches the Hellgrammite pretty easily, but things look dicier for Kara until DEO chief Hank Henshaw (David Harewood) shows up with a kryptonite knife and pokes Astra pretty good. Sure, Hank saves the day this time, but a glimpse of him at the end of the show reveals that he has scary red demon eyes. Or maybe they’re cyborg eyes? If you’re a fan of the comic book version of Superman, you might have an idea. In any case, it’s clear that Hank is not the gruff but lovable commander he appears to be.

The second episode of CBS’s Supergirl had pretty much the same strengths and weaknesses as the first. It’s full of likeable, attractive characters, and even the less likeable characters at least seem to be, well, characters.

Cat Grant (Calista Flockhart) not only eats boozy breakfasts with Ruth Bader Ginsburg, she also has pretty solid ideas about how Supergirl might improve her public image, which she unwittingly reveals to Supergirl herself. She’s also a pretty terrible boss, treating Kara like a stooge, and threatening to fire James (not “Jimmy”) Olsen (Mehcad Brooks) if he doesn’t get her an exclusive interview with Supergirl. Flockhart has fun in the role, and for a superhero TV show, the character and our feelings toward her are fairly complex.

Kara’s confrontation with Aunt Astra also has a surprising emotional element to it, thanks to the strength of the two actors. While she’s mostly evil incarnate, Astra seems to feel a genuine connection to Kara. She also claims that she’s trying to save the Earth, after having let Krypton be destroyed, and aside from the fact that her plan involves wiping out humanity, one suspects she may have a point, eventually.

Kara’s pep talk to James, who despairs of ever being able to get out from under the shadow of superheroes, is fairly affecting, too. The writing is pretty standard stuff, but again, the actors are strong enough to put it across with some genuine emotion. And Supergirl’s inclusive approach to fighting for good has a less fascistic bent to it that that lone wolf Superman’s.

On the negative side, the show’s plotting is contrived. The Hellgrammite just happens to grab Alex, and he gets away with it far too easily. Hank is sharp enough to bring a kryptonite knife to face Astra, but for their attempted capture of the superpowered Hellgrammite, the DEO only brings standard handguns. The special effects are far too cartoony, probably partly due to budget limitations, and the action is mostly indifferently choreographed and shot. That heat vision battle between Supergirl and Astra was an embarrassment. The fight between Alex and Kara was an exception, in that at least it didn’t feature characters transforming into animated blobs to fly across the room at each other.

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Supergirl Premiere: The Enemy of My Enemy Is Super

‘Supergirl’ Premiere: The Enemy of My Enemy Is Super

So instead of being a little irritated by the way the show constantly winks at the audience in signaling its mildly feminist and corrective agenda, I begin to see that aspect of it, not as a wink at me and other fair-minded folks, and not as pandering, but as a “nanny-nanny boo-boo” at anyone small-minded and hateful enough to be put out because there’s a superhero show on TV that is actually pro-woman and pro-girl and wears that on its sleeve.

Alright, let’s get this plot stuff out of the way. Kara Zor-El, eventually known as Supergirl, is Superman’s older cousin, who was sent to Earth before the destruction of Krypton, along with Supes, to keep an eye on him. She got pulled into some kind of intergalactic time warp (It’s just a jump to the left, etc) and ended up reaching the earth a couple dozen years younger than him. So Superman gave her to Mr. and Mrs. Danvers (one-time Kryptonians Dean Cain and Helen Slater, for those paying attention) and their daughter Alex (Chyler Lee).

Kara grows up trying to fit in, to be as “normal” as possible, because the world already has Superman, and he doesn’t need her anymore. She grows up and moves to National City, which is basically DC. She gets a mundane job as an assistant to demanding media mogul Cat Grant (Calista Flockhart, clearly having fun). Her nerdy, chisel-jawed co-worker Winn (Jeremy Jordan) has a crush on her, but Kara has the hots for the super-hunky new Black photographer Cat’s hired. You know, Jimmy Olsen (Mehcad Brooks). Only this hunky version insists on being called James. He’s from Metropolis and talks about his relationship with Superman the way someone who’s never actually met Superman would, so I was surprised to learn by the end of the episode that they actually are pretty tight.

Kara is doing a good job of stifling her superpoweredness until Alex (now her roommate) is on a flight to Geneva that loses one of its engines. Kara thinks about it for a moment, then flies off to carry the plane to safety, rescuing everyone on board. It kind of makes you wonder how many planes she let crash before that one, though.

Now that Kara has outed herself as a superhero, it turns out that Alex works for a secret government agency, the Department of Extranormal Operations, or the DEO. Her boss is the alien-hating Hank Henshaw (David Harewood). Naturally, Kara’s a little miffed that Alex has kept this a secret from her for many years. You’d think with the super-hearing and seeing through walls and everything, Kara’s not the type of roommate you could keep that kind of secret from, but well, I guess Kara just trusted Alex.

Kara doesn’t heed Alex’s warnings to keep her head down, and she ends up getting beaten up by Vartox (Owain Yeoman), a misogynistic alien dude. (“On my planet, women kneel before men!” “This isn’t your planet!”)

Oh, that time-warp thing I mis-described above was actually the Phantom Zone, where Krypton sent its prisoners, so when Kara passed through, some prison ship latched onto her escape pod; I am not well-versed in this universe, as you may have noticed. In any case, the prison ship crashed on Earth, too, and so I guess they’ve all been biding their time and waiting for Kara to be old enough to give them a fair fight when they try to murder her. Because it turns out Kara’s mom back on Krypton was some kind of badass judge who sent all these prisoners to the Phantom Zone. This all makes sense, right? Well, maybe just enough sense that the show is kind of fun to watch, in a way I haven’t found with Arrow, or The Flash, or Gotham, though of course that last one’s not supposed to be fun. At least, I hope not.

Melissa Benoist stars as Kara/Supergirl, and she’s terrific. Adorable. She brings the same kind of goofy, naively enthusiastic charm to the role that Christopher Reeve brought to those old Superman movies. She would be the best, most fun thing about the show if it weren’t for this other thing.

You see, my original plan was to write a mostly positive review of the series premiere of Supergirl but with a few caveats. Plotting, for example, is not its strong suit. Some of the expository stuff is clunky. It’s inordinately self-congratulatory about being a feminist show. The CGI effects are cheap-looking and unconvincing.

Wait, what’s up with slipping that one bit there into a list of otherwise mostly innocuous (but still super-insightful) criticisms? The part about it being self-congratulatory. Make no mistake, Supergirl is high on its own supply (of feminism, laced with color-blind casting). But it didn’t take me too long to realize that A) I kind of enjoyed that “in your face” aspect of the show, complete with its questioning both Supergirl’s moniker (“Shouldn’t we call her ‘Superwoman’?) and the comic’s midriff-baring costume (“I wouldn’t wear this to the beach”), its name-slamming Bill O’Reilly and climaxing with Supergirl vanquishing an intergalactic MRA douche-bro, using his own ignorant underestimation of her abilities. And B) Any brief, unwise perusal of “user reviews” or really just comments anywhere the show is being discussed online indicates that it’s kind of a necessary pre-emptive corrective to the kind of vitriol awaiting any kind of mild display of feminism in popular culture. So instead of being a little irritated by the way the show constantly winks at the audience in signaling its mildly feminist and corrective agenda, I begin to see that aspect of it, not as a wink at me and other fair-minded folks, and not as pandering, but as a “nanny-nanny boo-boo” at anyone small-minded and hateful enough to be put out because there’s a superhero show on TV that is actually pro-woman and pro-girl and wears that on its sleeve.

So sure, Supergirl is a bit corny and kind of sloppy, but it’s also considerable fun, especially if you enjoy the silly schadenfreude of it all.

‘Crimson Peak’: Guillermo del Toro’s Gothic Romance Offers a Gorgeous Chill

‘Crimson Peak’s connection to the “women’s pictures” of the ’40s and ’50s, and particularly Hitchcock’s ‘Rebecca,’ is instructive in reading it as a feminist film. Del Toro takes the tropes of a goodhearted, innocent protagonist, an oily older suitor, and a dangerous female rival whose hostility to the heroine is in part motivated by an “inappropriate” sexual desire, and recontextualizes them.

Guillermo del Toro’s eye-poppingly gorgeous new horror film/gothic romance, Crimson Peak, has generated mixed reviews, even getting panned by critics who acknowledge its aesthetic strengths. While complaints about the script (by del Toro and Matthew Robbins) aren’t entirely unfounded, complaints about the film’s excesses — from its gore to the batshit commitment of Jessica Chastain’s over-the-top performance, to the visual splendor itself — seem to misunderstand the filmmaker’s aim. Your mileage may vary, as always, but del Toro seems to be in complete control here. The movie is consistent in its vision, and consistent with the filmmaker’s work as a whole.

As he’s done throughout his career, del Toro mines the past for inspiration, then puts his own dark twist on the material. Crimson Peak‘s antecedents include Jane Eyre, Hitchcock classics like Suspicion and Rebecca, and the equally blood-drenched Hammer horror films of the 1950s-1970s. A horror geek of the highest order, del Toro makes loving use of the mood and plot elements of these older works, but makes the material his own.

Crimson Peak‘s connection to the “women’s pictures” of the ’40s and ’50s, and particularly Hitchcock’s Rebecca, is instructive in reading it as a feminist film. Del Toro takes the tropes of a goodhearted, innocent protagonist, an oily older suitor, and a dangerous female rival whose hostility to the heroine is in part motivated by an “inappropriate” sexual desire, and recontextualizes them. He makes the heroine, Edith Cushing (most likely named for Hammer star Peter Cushing), not merely an aspiring author who’s recently written a ghost story (“the ghost is a metaphor,” she explains), but the author of her own fate. As played by the consistently excellent Mia Wasikowska, Edith is a brave, resourceful, and powerful woman, with her own sexual desires.

Tom Hiddleston is Thomas Sharpe, British nobility fallen on hard times. Thomas is charming but weak, as he is batted about by the passions of the two powerful women in his life.

Chastain plays Lucille Sharpe, and from the beginning, both actor and director relish the character’s seething menace. There’s no doubt from the moment Lucille is introduced that she’s bad news, and that she’s running the show. As she explains threateningly to Edith early on in the film, Lucille is that black moth, thriving on dark and cold, and feeding on Edith’s pretty butterfly. It’s not a logical point in the film for Lucille to issue that veiled warning, but it delivers the intended chill, and, as with those ghosts, is a keen metaphor.

Edith is a frustrated author, living in turn-of-the-last-century Buffalo with her wealthy industrialist father, Carter (the great Jim Beaver, beloved of HBO’s Deadwood, bringing an unusual but perfect gruffer-than-thou haughtiness to the role). Edith has personal experience with the supernatural. Her mother’s ghost issued a mysterious warning to her, as a child: “Beware Crimson Peak!” But Edith’s ghost story is not taken seriously because of her gender. She has a suitor, Dr. Alan McMichael (Charlie Hunnam), an ophthalmologist with an interest in Sherlock Holmes, but he clearly doesn’t inspire her. Then Thomas Sharpe comes into her life. He’s handsome and charming and seems genuinely interested in her work. Sharpe is looking for a partner to fund some technical advances at his red clay mine in England, but Carter sees through Sharpe’s charm to his financial desperation.

Noting Sharpe’s interest in Edith, Carter hires a private investigator (Burn Gorman) to look into Thomas and Lucille, and what he uncovers (not revealed to the audience until later in the film, but it should be increasingly clear to all but the densest viewers what’s going on here) is unsettling enough that he threatens Thomas and Lucille with exposure if they don’t leave town immediately, sweetening the deal with a bribe, payable only if Thomas breaks Edith’s heart before he leaves. Thomas knows just how to do it, too, attacking her writing ability.

One gruesome, beautifully staged murder later, Edith is a new bride on her way to Allerdale Hall in England. Her mother’s ghost probably should have told her, “Beware Allerdale Hall!” and not referred to the place by its nickname, which Edith doesn’t find out about until it’s too late.

Allerdale Hall is a wonderful, creaky setting for a ghost story. It’s a classic haunted house, ancient and decrepit, filled with secrets and fluttering black moths. It’s built atop a deposit of red clay, and the blood red seeps into the building through the floors, walls, and pipes. Filled with mournful ghosts, it’s the perfect setting for a scary story, even if its true horrors are contained within the hearts of its living inhabitants.

It seems clear to me that del Toro is less concerned with creating a steel trap of a plot, which he fails to do in any case, and more concerned with atmosphere and with the emotional twists and turns of the story. If you’re chuckling and aghast at the film by turns, it’s working.

Even its detractors admit that Crimson Peak has atmosphere to spare, but they don’t give enough credit to del Toro and his collaborators (chief among them cinematographer Dan Laustsen and production designer Thomas E. Sanders) for creating a work that’s both gorgeous and extremely personal and unique. Crimson Peak is beautiful, but it’s not picture-postcard beautiful. It doesn’t look like a commercial for anything. It’s a fully realized vision of decay, gore, and grue. The playful transitions del Toro uses, those endearing wipes and irises, make it clear that del Toro is relishing the artificiality of it all. The performers play it straight, though, giving the story emotional heft despite that artifice.

Some have complained about the role the ghosts play in the film, but it’s as Edith says, they’re only a metaphor. They serve their function by being beautifully terrifying in their warnings to Edith. And their look — captured in the horror of their untimely deaths, wispy, smoke-like tendrils splaying out in every direction like flayed skin — is unique. It’s one of the few examples I can think of where CGI brings a unique visual sense to the horror — where it’s used expressively, and not just as a way to indicate scale, or to do things to the human body that can’t actually be done on a film set. These beautiful, unsettling ghosts are unlike any I’ve seen onscreen before.

Edith falls ill as she unravels Lucille and Thomas’s plot. Thomas begins to develop genuine feelings for his mark, enraging Lucille. Alan, meanwhile, begins his own stateside sleuthing, uncovering the truth about the Sharpes. During the film, I felt like Hunnam’s adenoidal performance was the weak link of the film, but again, I feel like this is something del Toro intended. It’s clear that neither Alan nor Thomas is truly worthy of Edith.

Her passion for Thomas is real, however, and eventually, she gets him away from Lucille long enough for him to have sex with her, on her terms. He’s weak and devious, but she wants him, and takes control of the situation to have her way.

For a while it seems Alan might save Edith, the damsel in distress. Those familiar with del Toro’s work know better, though. Since his second feature, Mimic, he has always had strong female characters in his films. In this instance, the strongest, Edith and Lucille, are destined to settle their score while the men look on from the sidelines.

If you’re alternately giggling and gasping, the movie is working. It’s outlandish and baroque, but the actors keep it grounded, and I found myself moved, not just by the passion of the characters, but by the evident passion of the filmmaker for the material. Crimson Peak may actually be Del Toro’s masterpiece. I’m convinced it is every bit as heartfelt and coherent as Pan’s Labyrinth, widely considered his best. This is a filmmaker working at the height of his abilities to deliver a grandly entertaining, uniquely gorgeous, and emotionally involving work of cinema, with a pronounced feminist bent.

Click here to see Del Toro discussing the film.

‘Fear the Walking Dead’: Melvin Was My Ride

I mean, if I want to see an obscenely wealthy, morally repugnant real estate magnate battling mindless zombies, I’ll just watch the Republican presidential debates again.

The first season of AMC’s Fear the Walking Dead is over, and it wasn’t everything we’d hoped. Not that our hopes were that high. After all, as I noted last week, after a strong pilot episode, it took The Walking Dead until well into its fifth to become the type of compelling, frightening, and morally complex work we’d hoped for from the beginning. And we’re still not 100 percent convinced we’re there yet. The gore helped tide us over. We are horror fans after all. But the weak characterizations, sometimes plodding storytelling, and the show’s embarrassing representation of women and non-white characters severely dampened our enthusiasm.

Fear started out with an advantage in the casting of Kim Dickens, who doesn’t know how to play a boring character. She gave us a way into the new series, and Madison was immediately a stronger presence than any of the women on The Walking Dead, at least up until Michonne’s (Danai Gurira) arrival. The writing on the new show hasn’t been impressive, in terms of plot, dialogue, or characterization, but the cast, overall, has been strong (again, Frank Dillane’s slightly over-the-top performance as junkie Nick has grown on me) and Dickens is the backbone of that cast.

There are several prominent Latino characters on the show, which you’d think would be standard for any show set in 21st century Los Angeles, and while some of them are problematic, they’re not presented as stereotypes. The three most prominent Black characters on the show died hasty deaths, and the introduction of the mysterious, manipulative Strand (Colman Domingo) was intriguing at first, but this week we learned that he seems to be a shady real estate broker, which is much less interesting than anything I might have speculated about his background. I mean, if I want to see an obscenely wealthy, morally repugnant real estate magnate battling mindless zombies, I’ll just watch the Republican presidential debates again.

The episode begins with a few nice shots of a full moon over a rapidly disintegrating Los Angeles, and then we’re at that arena full of zombies that Daniel (Ruben Blades) found out about from National Guardsman Adams (Shawn Hatosy) last week. You remember, by having his daughter Ofelia (Mercedes Mason) lure him to their house, tying him up in the basement, and torturing him. That act and its consequences hang over the season finale like a toxic cloud.

Anyway, Madison, Travis (Cliff Curtis), Daniel, the mildly traumatized Ofelia and those pretty but annoying teens, Chris (Lorenzo James Henrie) and Alicia (Alycia Debnam Carey) are leaving town before… well, before something bad happens. (It’s not really clear what the military’s plan is for greater Los Angeles. Adams seemed to be saying that they’d all be wiped out to prevent the spread of the zombie infection, which, in this paranoid anti-government fantasy, makes a kind of sense, but on this episode we see Dr. Exner [Sandrine Holt] arranging for a helicopter to carry the wounded to safety. Why would they take a bunch of critically injured folks away and wipe out everyone else? It doesn’t pay to think too much with this show.)

Before they can head east, they need to get into the medical compound, and rescue Nick and Liza (Elizabeth Rodriguez) and Griselda, who has already died from her injuries, but they don’t know that.

After getting the information he needs, Daniel is ready to murder Adams, but Travis intercedes, pointing out that Adams can still help them find their loved ones at the compound. Madison, apparently now okay with torture and murder, tells Travis he has to take Adams in his truck. With the others driving off, Adams convinces Travis to let him go, because otherwise Daniel will definitely kill him. Seems reasonable.

The gang then drives to a parking garage I guess Adams told them about, where for some reason they leave Chris and Alicia with the cars and head into the compound. This show is like a primer on bad parenting. I’m sure Chris and Alicia will be fine, right? What could go wrong?

Because the place is still heavily guarded, Daniel has a plan. An illogical plan that will put his own loved ones in harm’s way and cause the deaths of many innocent people, but still a plan. I just wished the show had shown Daniel setting things in motion instead of having it be this funny reveal, where he tells the soldiers guarding the compound, who threaten to shoot him as he approaches, “You should save your ammunition,” and then casually nods his head toward the zombies coming around the bend. Yes, Daniel has freed the zombies from the arena — thousands of them — and somehow this groaning, shuffling mass of undead has gotten to within a few hundred feet of the compound without anyone noticing it. Let me just state it again: Daniel freed thousands of flesh-eating zombies from the arena and led them to the medical compound. You know, the one he thinks his wife is inside. The one where the National Guard are holding hundreds of innocent people, including Nick. Again, what could possibly go wrong?

Well, a lot, it turns out. Daniel’s zombie pals successfully distract the soldiers, but, their job done, they continue to advance on the compound. Eventually, they break through the fences. Because the compound’s been breached, Dr. Exter finds out that the evac has been put on hold. She orders her staff (including Liza) to run while she “takes care of” the wounded. With chaos ensuing, Strand uses the key he stole to get out, taking Nick with him. As the place is overrun with zombies, Strand refuses to help the other prisoners trying to get out of their cages, and Nick just goes along. Later, Madison and Travis pass through the same corridor, and decide to free who they can. Hooray, humanity!

Strand has plans to meet up with that Guardsman he gave his watch and cufflinks to, Melvin (Toby Levins). Melvin is still alive when they find him, but he’s badly injured. Worse yet, his legs are being eaten by a zombie. Strand must really treasure those cufflinks, because he goes over and takes them back. Melvin’s legs must be super-delicious, because the zombie doesn’t even look up from his meal.

Eventually, Madison, Travis, Nick, Strand, Daniel, Ofelia, and Liza come together and, after a few close calls, make their way out of the facility. Thankfully, Travis has finally stopped trying to reason with the undead.

While all that was happening, Chris and Alicia were hiding in the car in the parking garage. Some guardsmen found them and demanded their SUV, but not before making us worry that maybe they’d sexually assault Alicia. The show cuts away from this heated confrontation in the parking garage, and when the rest of the characters arrive, Nick and Alicia are nowhere to be found. This gratuitous creepiness concludes with Nick and Alicia bursting into the parking garage exclaiming that they’re alright. They were just hiding in a stairwell or something! What a relief.

But, you know, just when it looks like a happy ending, despite all the death and destruction their rescue operation caused, up pops Adams! It’s not clear why he’d bother sticking around to get revenge on Daniel, but there he is, in the parking garage, pointing his gun at Daniel, before he gets even more irrational and decides to shoot Ofelia instead. And then Travis jumps on him and beats him to a pulp.

Now, from the show’s perspective, it’s clear that Ofelia getting shot is Travis’s fault, for being a big ol’ softy and letting Adams go, as opposed to maybe being Daniel’s fault, for using his daughter as bait to lure Adams in so Daniel could bound, gag, torture, and — if everything had gone according to plan — murder him. Shame on you, Travis! You’re still living in the old world!

Now that everyone’s together, and Ofelia’s okay — just a flesh wound — they all follow Strand to his place, a luxurious gated mansion on the Pacific coast, which he has stocked with supplies. Like Daniel, though I guess for different reasons, Strand is alarmingly well-prepared for the zombie apocalypse. It’s almost like they wanted it to happen. Strand tells Nick they’re not staying, though. “The only way to survive in a mad world,” Strand says, “is to embrace the madness.” But really, they’re just going to get on his fancy yacht and sail away.

Before our “heroes” sail into the sunset, Madison follows Liza out onto the beach, where Liza reveals that during all the chaos escaping the compound, she got herself a zombie bite. She wants Madison to put a bullet in her head, just like Madison asked Liza to, back when they saw what happened to her neighbor Susan. “Come on,” Liza goads her, “You never liked me that much.” What a trouper. I don’t know why these folks don’t get further from the house, or find a quieter way to kill one another, but Travis follows Madison out to the beach, and decides to take matters into his own hands, shooting Liza in the head, which of course brings the kids running. Guns are loud! Then Madison and Travis sit on the beach and cry as the tide comes in, shedding tears over not just Liza, but their lost innocence, and perhaps, I’d like to think, their contractual obligation to appear in 15 more episodes of Fear the Walking Dead next summer. It’s true what they say. You can’t save everyone.

Recommended Reading

Fear the Walking Dead Pilot: Can It Be More?

Fear the Walking Dead: The Black Guys Die First

Fear the Walking Dead: Liberals Try to Stop Zombies with Words!

Fear the Walking Dead: I’m From the Government, and I’m Here to Help

Fear the Walking Dead: It’s Torture!

‘Fear the Walking Dead’: It’s Torture!

There’s only one more episode left this season, and the ratings are dropping, maybe because people like their zombie shows about bad parents to have more zombies in them, and less teen angst. Season Two is going to be 15 episodes, so they’ll have to come up with a lot more story, or take another six scripts and stretch them out the way the parent show does.

There was some hope last week that AMC’s Fear the Walking Dead might actually be getting interesting, that perhaps we’d written it off too quickly as a crass and shoddy cash-grab capitalizing on the astounding success of the original show. But then it took The Walking Dead itself four full seasons before it turned into a compelling drama. We should have known better. This week’s episode, “Cobalt” (once meant to be the title of the series), was possibly the weakest yet, and exacerbated the show’s representation issues, introducing another morally repugnant Black character (the flashy, beguiling Strand, played by Colman Domingo, who played Ralph Abernathy in Selma) and revealing that its most prominent Latino character is actually a psychopath.

On top of that, the only undead we got a good look at was some slacker donut shop zombie who apparently still felt enough residual sense of responsibility that she didn’t want to leave the store.

It starts in a holding pen at that mysterious medical facility, where they apparently put potential troublemakers like Nick (Frank Dillane, disappointingly subdued this week), Strand, and poor Doug Thompson (John Stewart), the muscle car nut who had the breakdown last week. After goading Doug into freaking out, so that he’s carted away, Strand sets his sights on Nick. Sadly, he doesn’t try to drive Nick crazy. He apparently senses that Nick has ninja skills or perhaps zombie-imitating talents that will come in handy, so he bribes a guard to prevent Nick from being carted off. Strand’s appearance is brief, but he manages to surpass both creepily cheerful Lt. Moyers (Jamie McShane) and quietly psychopathic Daniel Salazar (Ruben Blades) as the most interesting character on the show.

Back in town, Ofelia (Mercedes Mason) is raising a ruckus, throwing bottles at the chainlink fence that separates her from the National Guard, demanding to see Griselda (Patricia Reyes Spindola), who was dragged out of their temporary home for “medical treatment.” Eventually, her guardsman beau Adams (Shawn Hatosy) shows up, and convinces Ofelia to let him take her home.

This turns out to be part of Daniel’s bizarre plan, and the next time we see Adams, Madison (Kim Dickens) finds him tied up and gagged in the basement, with Daniel preparing to torture him. See, it turns out that Daniel was not an innocent kid back in El Salvador, but a torturer for the government. Sure, he was young, and sure, he claims they forced him to do it, but seriously? Are we still supposed to root for this guy? Even though he slips right back into torturer mode at the first sign of trouble? Daniel tells Ofelia some cockamamie story about trading Adams for Griselda and Nick, but really Daniel just wants information. And he gets it! Who says torture doesn’t work? Weak-kneed liberals, that’s who! It turns out “Cobalt” just means that the military is going to evacuate the L.A. basin the next morning, “humanely terminating” everyone left in the medical facility. Or in all of L.A. It’s not clear. Still, nothing that drastic seemed imminent, so it’s a good thing Daniel still remembered some things about torturing people, right?

Madison happens upon all this while she’s looking for her teenage daughter, Alicia (Alycia Debnam Carey), who has run off to get into mischief again. Of course, Madison promptly forgets she has a daughter once she gets involved in Daniel’s nutty plans. Alicia recruits Chris (Lorenzo James Henrie), Travis’s (Cliff Curtis) equally forgotten son, on a little day trip to the wealthy part of town, where she tries on a sexy evening gown (the closest Carey’s gonna get to Emmy’s red carpet, I’m afraid) and the two of them smash up the place because nothing matters anymore and now they are rebels without a cause. You would think they could at least make trashing a rich people home look fun, but it all seems kinda pro forma.

Travis has the most exciting adventure, convincing Moyers, who has a rather capricious attitude toward his protective duties, to take Travis to the medical facility, with a couple of key pitstops. First, Moyers tries to goad Travis into blowing away the aforementioned donut shop zombie with a high-powered sniper rifle. Travis declines. What a wimp, this guy. Though I have to say it was pretty gutsy of him to even approach the military after essentially witnessing them gunning down civilians at the end of the last episode. What was the point of that scene if Travis didn’t learn anything from it? In any case, next up, the squad Travis is riding with gets called to help out a SWAT team pinned down at the local library. That turns into a clusterfuck, all off-screen, Moyers vanishes, and some other guardsmen bring Travis home. Sorta anticlimactic.

Liza (Elizabeth Rodriguez) is at the medical facility, helping out Dr. Exner (Sandrine Holt), patching up wounds and such, and hey, while you’re at it, would you mind shooting Griselda in the head with this captive bolt pistol (normally used to put down cattle) after Griselda suddenly dies of septic shock from her ankle injury. Liza gives lip service to caring about what happened to Nick, but mostly seems like an adaptable sort. She doesn’t really flinch at the notion that this is how things work nowadays. She’s apparently a good little soldier, just like Daniel was, back in El Salvador, all those years ago.

Recommended Reading

“Fear the Walking Dead Pilot: Can It Be More?”

“Fear the Walking Dead: The Black Guys Die First”

“Fear the Walking Dead: Liberals Try to Stop Zombies with Words!”

“Fear the Walking Dead: I’m From the Government, and I’m Here to Help”

‘Fear the Walking Dead’: I’m From the Government, and I’m Here to Help

As with the writers on ‘The Walking Dead,’ these writers haven’t yet proven they have any idea how to write strong roles for women. But if they ever figure it out, they’ve got the right actor for the job.

Well, this was unexpected. Despite its occasional heavy-handedness and several key moments where characters did things that no one in their situation would ever actually do, the fourth episode of AMC’s Fear the Walking Dead was actually the best yet. And they didn’t even need a zombie attack! Or for Alicia (Alycia Debnam Carey) to do anything worth mentioning!

They haven’t added any Black characters since the purge of the first two episodes, but the Latino characters on the show are a relatively rich and varied lot, with Ruben Blades’ Salvadoran barber Daniel being given some of the show’s best dialogue. Toward the end of the episode, as he was preparing to go to a military field hospital with his wife Griselda (Patricia Reyes Spindola, who mostly just gets to groan in pain and suffer nobly), he talks to Madison (Kim Dickens), whom he clearly recognizes as the household’s most astute and proactive observer of the encroaching zombie apocalypse, about the Salvadoran government’s massacre of some people from his village, and about how his father said the perpetrators were not evil, but committed evil acts out of fear. I got a chill when he told Madison that his father was a fool “to think there was a difference.” Daniel is a strong enough character to make the show’s over-the-top anti-government paranoia seem downright rational.

The engaging performances of Blades, Dickens, and — I have to admit he’s growing on me — wild-eyed Frank Dillane as Madison’s heroin-addicted ninja son Nick go a long way toward selling the silliness of the plotting. There was also a pretty strong opening with Madison’s beau Travis (Cliff Curtis) jogging around the now militarized, fenced-in, and seemingly safe neighborhood to the strains of Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” and then Travis’ son Chris (Lorenzo James Henrie), from his perch on Madison’s roof, sees a flash of light from a building outside the fenced in area, from the area that was supposedly cleared of all residents by the military. It looks like someone’s using a mirror to signal the folks within the perimeter, perhaps for help. Or perhaps it’s a warning.

In any case, Chris shows Travis his video of the mysterious flash, and Travis, who firmly believes that their problems will soon be over now that the government/military has stepped in, shrugs it off. Travis has ingratiated himself to the local military commander, Moyers (Jamie McShane), by helping out when a frightened neighbor locks himself in the bathroom. He eventually tells Moyers about what Chris saw, but Moyers is using the neighborhood’s streets as his personal driving range (this is what I meant by heavy handed) and blithely assures Travis that the area’s been cleared.

Meanwhile, Ofelia (Mercedes Mason), Daniel and Griselda’s daughter, has struck up a romance with a guardsman played by Shawn Hatosy. There’s the suggestion that she’s using him in an effort to get medicine for her mother, which would not be wise in this scenario, as these military types clearly have too much power over the locals’ lives.

Chris eventually shows Madison the video, and she clearly takes it more seriously, because she responds by sneaking up to the fence, cutting a hole in it and slipping through, presumably so she can go find whoever is signalling and clear up what that’s about. I might have tried a pair of binoculars first, but anyway, using her training as a high school guidance counselor, she eludes the soldiers with relative ease.

On the other side, she finds a bunch of people shot dead in the street, and they don’t appear to have been “sick” (i.e. zombies) so her suspicion about the military’s methods grows.

Meanwhile, Nick was supposed to be kicking heroin, but he has another idea. He sneaks into the house next door, where Travis’ ex-wife Liza (Elizabeth Rodriguez) has been using her nursing training to administer morphine to an elderly man with a heart condition. Even though Madison complains at one point about how much time she has to spend watching Nick, and even though the elderly guy’s wife lives with him and presumably keeps a pretty close eye on him, Nick somehow gets into their house undetected, and manages to unhook the guy’s IV and use it himself, while resting comfortably under his bed. It’s a shame he’s not using his superpowers for good.

When Madison gets back from her adventures beyond the fence, she catches Nick looking for the old man’s drugs, and slaps him around. Under these circumstances, who can blame her?

Liza is helping folks with their medical needs all throughout the neighborhood, and draws the attention of Dr. Exner (Sandrine Holt of House of Cards), the pretty face of the government/military carting away your loved ones in the dead of night. Liza tells Exner about Nick’s drug problem, and later regrets it when the guardsmen come to pick up Griselda that night, and instead of letting Daniel go with her, as Exner told him they would, they take Nick against his will.

Early on in the episode, Madison makes an odd complaint to Travis about all the cooking and cleaning and, ahem, watching Nick she has to do, and wonders not why Travis isn’t helping — he has importantly manly town duties — but why Liza isn’t. Well, clearly it’s because she’s going around the neighborhood helping those with medical needs, but maybe she’s keeping that a secret for some reason. At the end of the episode, when Nick is taken away, Liza takes the mendacious Dr. Exner up on her offer to go to the medical facility and help out, in part, it seems, to look out for Nick, but Madison still tells Travis as Griselda, Nick, and Liza are carted away, “This is Liza’s fault.” It’s not that there aren’t people who would see the zombie apocalypse as a conflict between them and their significant others’ ex, but Madison seems too smart, brave (foolhardy, even) and clear-headed for that. This kind of trumped-up domestic drama seems a bit silly in this context, and Madison is not a silly character. As with the writers on The Walking Dead, these writers haven’t yet proven they have any idea how to write strong roles for women. But if they ever figure it out, they’ve got the right actor for the job.

The show ends with another effective, chilling moment, as that night Travis sits on the roof in Chris’ old perch, and watches as several flashes erupt in the house where Chris saw the mirror signal earlier. This time, the lights appear to be muzzle flashes, and the look on Travis’ face suggests that he recognizes his own culpability in what’s transpiring, as he told Moyers about the house. Hopefully, this means Trav will be pulling his head out of his ass soon. It would make for a better show.

Recommended Reading

“Fear the Walking Dead Pilot: Can It Be More?”

“Fear the Walking Dead: The Black Guys Die First”

“Fear the Walking Dead: Liberals Try to Stop Zombies with Words!”

‘Fear the Walking Dead’: Liberals Try to Stop Zombies with Words!

The audience knows so much more than the characters that at a certain point, it doesn’t work as dramatic irony anymore; it’s just frustrating.

I know I called Fear the Walking Dead reactionary two weeks ago (they took last week off for Labor Day), but I want to retract that. The show is not really conservative, in the same way that the current crop of Republican presidential candidates isn’t really conservative. It’s more radical and disturbing than a simple longing for a bygone fantasy era of law and order when everyone knew their place.

This week, tough, smart widow Madison (Kim Dickens, still doing better than the material deserves), heroin-addicted Nick (Frank Dillane, whose perpetually wild-eyed countenance and exaggerated limp are certain to get him mistaken for a zombie and shot some day), and Alicia (Alycia Debnam-Carey) are stuck at home waiting for Travis (Cliff Curtis) as the neighbors begin eating each other. Travis is stuck in an L.A. barbershop with his ex-wife Liza (Elizabeth Rodriguez) and their petulant teen son Chris (Lorenzo James Henrie).

The barber, an El Salvadoran immigrant named Daniel (the great Ruben Blades) doesn’t seem to like Travis much, and it’s not clear why. He takes offense when Travis reassures Chris, who’s worried about the rioting and looting outside, that they won’t break into the barbershop because they wouldn’t be interested in stealing a bunch of combs. “There’s more than just combs in here,” Daniel indignantly tells Travis, thankfully out of earshot of Chris, who would probably be terrified to learn that the shop also has scissors, shaving cream, hair gel, and other loot-worthy items. In any case, the writers clearly struggled with how to introduce Daniel’s mistrust/dislike of the generally likeable-enough Travis, and ultimately failed to come up with anything compelling. So, the combs thing.

Eventually, rioters burn down the building next door, forcing Travis, Chris, Liza, and Daniel to run, along with Daniel’s wife Griselda (Patricia Reyes Spindola) and their adult daughter Ofelia (Mercedes Mason). It’s mayhem on the streets, as protesters, rioters, and looters dissolve into a violent mass, including some who have turned and are eating each other. Kind of the way the mainstream media depicted Occupy Wall Street. Cops are eating each other, too, though, adding to the madness. While Daniel wants to split away from Travis and his people (you remember, because of the whole combs thing), Griselda is injured when cops using firehoses on the protesters knock down a scaffolding. Travis offers to drive them to a hospital, but hospitals are pretty much zombie central, so Daniel convinces Travis to take them to Madison’s home.

Meanwhile, Madison and the kids are staying up late playing Monopoly. Hey, they don’t know it’s the apocalypse yet. It’s a reasonable way for a mom to keep her kids from thinking about what’s going on outside while they wait for Travis to come home. It doesn’t make sense for Madison not to tell Alicia what’s going on out there, but it’s for the girl’s own good, right, and I’m sure she won’t do anything stupid and reckless because she doesn’t understand the threat. Later, after a dog startles them, they decide to go to the neighbor’s house, because they have a shotgun, but for some reason they leave the back door wide open, which is unwise in L.A., even if you don’t know there are zombies everywhere. After they find the gun, they hear the dog barking, and look back at their house to see the zombie neighbor go in. Do zombies eat dogs? Why yes, they do. Then Madison sees Travis pulling up to the house.

In a recurring motif, Madison is too slow, or doesn’t yell loudly enough to keep someone from entering a dangerous situation. Travis goes inside, followed by Daniel and them. He finds the neighbor munching on the dead dog, and surmises, “He’s sick.” While Travis struggles to keep the “sick” neighbor from biting him, Daniel comes up with the shotgun and fires. The first shot just gives us the best gore effect so far (and that’s what this is all about, for a lot of viewers), but the second one goes straight into the brain. It’s almost like Daniel has seen those George Romero movies that don’t exist in this universe.

Travis’ compassion is clearly meant to be seen as a liability. When he finds Daniel showing Chris how to use a shotgun, he gets angry. “You know how I feel about guns,” he chastises Madison. Yes, because gun control is not a reasonable response to the insane level of gun violence in our society, but something that weak-ass people will still be worrying about in the midst of a zombie apocalypse.

And then there’s the neighbor, Susan. Susan was apparently Madison’s rock after her husband died. She tries to eat Alicia, so Madison considers braining her, but Travis has a hard time accepting that she’s not just “sick.” He convinces Madison not to end Susan, while Daniel looks on from a distance and pronounces Travis “weak.” When Ofelia tries to convince him they should leave with Travis and Madison because they’re good people, Daniel says flatly, “Good people are the first ones to die.” Well, on this show, after Black people, apparently.

The next morning, Travis, Madison and their families are set to leave town, but as they’re driving off, Madison spots Susan’s husband returning home. I didn’t catch the name of this actor, but his obliviously cheerful calling out to his wife as though he was in a soap commercial (“Honey, the airport was closed because of the zombie apocalypse! What’s for breakfast?”) was another welcome dose of unintended comedy. Anyway, Madison tries to warn him, but again, she’s too late. She needs to take yelling lessons, or something. Just as Susan is about to bite the poor guy, the army moves in and takes her out. It should be a poignant moment, after all the hand-wringing over Susan. Instead, it’s just more ridiculousness. Travis thinks the cavalry’s arrived, and they’re saved. Daniel, who probably came to this country fleeing death squads in El Salvador, knows better, yet again.

It would help if the show was more coherent and focused in its direction, and sure, if the writing were stronger, but the aesthetic problems already seem like they’re inherent to the premise. The audience knows so much more than the characters that at a certain point, it doesn’t work as dramatic irony anymore; it’s just frustrating.

Beyond that, the show’s themes are troubling. After killing off every Black character, and depicting police brutality protesters as ignorant buffoons and lowlifes last week, this week, the show slams gun control and suggests a dystopian future where the government stepping in during a crisis is the worst possible thing that could happen. Fear the Walking Dead is falling more and more in line with radical right-wing politics every week. It can only end with Donald Trump vanquishing the zombie curse while calling Travis a “loser” and selling his new book, The Art of Zombie-Killing.

Recommended Reading

“Fear the Walking Dead Pilot: Can It Be More?”

“Fear the Walking Dead: The Black Guys Die First”

‘Fear the Walking Dead’: The Black Guys Die First

There’s a conservative bent to much horror, but this conflation of real-life police brutality and genuine tragedy with the killing of zombies crosses a line.

The second episode of Fear the Walking Dead was an improvement, in some ways. It seemed to move a little faster, and there were some genuinely strong moments amid the show’s touted “blended” family. (Yes, Kim Dickens is a substantial talent.) But it was also one of the most reactionary pieces of entertainment I’ve seen in years.

The episode picks up right where the pilot left off. Nick (Frank Dillane), Travis (Cliff Curtis), and Madison (Dickens) are fleeing the scene of Calvin’s (Keith Powers) death and re-awakening. They race home, stopping along the way to pick up Alicia (Alycia Debnam-Carey). While Nick deals with withdrawal (and I have to assume that there is hours of footage of the exuberantly over-the-top Dillane, wailing and rolling his eyes back in his head, that was left on the cutting room floor), Travis drives off to find his son Chris (Lorenzo James Henrie) (great, another annoyingly petulant teen!) and ex-wife Liza (Elizabeth Rodriguez).

Madison eventually decides that she needs to leave, too. She heads to the school to find some confiscated meds to help Nick through his crisis. There, she runs into young, middle-aged-looking Tobias (Lincoln A. Castellanos), who dispenses more wisdom about the weird apocalypse that’s just started. What exactly is Tobias doing at the school? Well, he came to get his knife back. Yes, he went out during the zombie apocalypse to retrieve the common steak knife that Madison had confiscated from him the previous day. That must be one special steak knife. Maybe he just hates doing the dishes? He also decides to loot a shopping cart full of food from the school cafeteria, with Madison’s help.

As they’re leaving, they run into Madison’s boss, Art Costa (Scott Lawrence), the principal. Art apparently likes to spend his off days roaming around the school jingling his keys and, I dunno, investigating stuff, so yeah, he seems to have been bitten and turned into a zombie. Even though Madison’s had some experience with Black zombies, and there’s blood all over Art’s shirt, she decides to approach him and offer aid. Luckily, Tobias has that steak knife. When that fails, Madison leaps to the rescue and bashes Art’s head in with a fire extinguisher. Congratulations, Madison. You’re the first character on this new show to figure out how to kill a zombie.

After saving Tobias’ life, Madison brings him home and they wish each other luck. At this point, Gidget, my viewing companion, lamented, “All that and he didn’t even get his food.” I realized she was right and indeed, Tobias had neglected to bring all his purloined food home with him. “Who can think of eating after that?” I imagined him saying to Madison as they grimly left the school. But he might regret that decision in a week or two. Hey, at least he got that steak knife back!

Alicia, who’s mostly avoided the horror so far, wants to leave the house to check on her “sick” boyfriend, Matt (Maestro Harrell), but Nick manages to stop her by having a seizure and vomiting everywhere. “Not now!” Alicia exhorts him, but really when is a good time?

Meanwhile, Travis goes to Liza’s and eventually they figure out that Chris is at that big, unplanned protest on TV, and they go to get him. In the chaos that ensues, they find themselves caught between riot police and looters, and convince a barber, Daniel Salazar (Ruben Blades) and his family to let them hide out in his shop. We can tell Daniel is a man of high character because he insists upon finishing a customer’s haircut before closing his shop due to the end of the world happening outside.

For some reason, Travis doesn’t feel the need to explain to anyone what’s actually going on, with the dead coming back to life and everything. He’s just kind of a private guy, I’m thinking.

There’s a surprisingly effective moment at the end of the episode, when Alicia sees their neighbor across the street attacking some people, and starts to go outside to help, and Madison steps in front of the door and won’t let her leave. It’s a reasonable response, based on everything Madison’s seen, but it’s also a chilling indication of how quickly one can start to lose one’s humanity in a life-threatening crisis.

Anyway, what did I mean by “reactionary”?

Most blatantly, it’s a cliche these days that the Black characters are killed off first in horror movies and TV shows. There are Tumblrs about it and everything. The trope has been ridiculed in more than one horror film, but the creators of Fear the Walking Dead, in what seems almost a willful avoidance of political correctness, have just been killing off one Black man after another. First, in the opening moments of episode one, it was a nameless dude getting his face eaten in the church, then there’s Alicia’s boyfriend Matt, who vanishes, and then, of course, there’s Calvin, the evil murderous drug dealer wild-eyed Nick kills, multiple times, in self-defense. I thought it was unfortunate that the show’s creators made these choices, but based on how badly the original series dealt with non-white and women characters, especially early on, I wasn’t really surprised.

Episode two, though, doubles down on the trope to an extent that did kind of surprise me. First, we learn that Matt has indeed been bitten by a zombie, and is not long for this world. He nobly insists that Alicia leave him to die. The next character we see transformed is Art:

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7hdK9UW8Qc”]

So that’s three Black speaking roles, and every one of the characters is a zombie in the first two episodes. That’s almost impressive in its obliviousness, assuming there isn’t some more conscious decision being made about the type of show this is. Even the homeless dude zombie gunned down by the cops offscreen (the incident that provokes the spontaneous protest) turns out to be a Black man.

Here’s an interview with the show’s co-creator and showrunner, Dave Erickson, where he essentially says that they wanted a diverse cast, and that they didn’t know who was going to die when they cast those roles. When The Hollywood Reporter is challenging you about decisions like this, you have to know you’ve done something wrong, right?

Beyond that, I found a couple of things disturbing. While Travis is on his way to see Liza, they speak on the phone. He makes it clear that he has to see Chris immediately. She launches into a tirade about abusing his visitation rights. The thing is, Travis doesn’t make a real effort to explain the situation, and under normal circumstances, she’s absolutely within her rights to demand that he limit his visits to when they’ve been scheduled, but my sense is that we’re not supposed to look at it that way. We’re supposed to see Liza as shrewish, controlling, and short-sighted. The brief scene made me wonder if the writer had gone through some sort of bitter custody battle with his ex, and I’m not prone to that type of personal speculation.

We see Chris arrive at the scene of a police shooting. Eyewitnesses are saying that the police shot an unarmed homeless man. Chris videotapes the aftermath of the shooting, and is told by the cops to turn his camera off. It’s not particularly clear why they insist on not being filmed, when the violence is already over. In any case, the mob gets increasingly upset, and again, under normal circumstances, their outrage would be perfectly understandable. They DON’T KNOW there’s a zombie apocalypse. But the show presents their actions as reckless and stupid, and then some punk rock girl zombie gets shot in the eye by a policewoman, and the riot cops show up, and all hell breaks loose. There’s a conservative bent to much horror, but this conflation of real-life police brutality and genuine tragedy with the killing of zombies crosses a line. There are nefarious reasons for the militarization of police departments across the country, and for police shootings of innocents, rooted in racism. The coming zombie apocalypse doesn’t have anything to do with it.

Key moments like this make it harder for me to enjoy the show as fun Sunday night entertainment. I imagine they’ll make it difficult for some viewers to engage the series at all. Nevertheless, I’ll be back next week with another recap.

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“Fear the Walking Dead Pilot: Can It Be More?”

‘Fear the Walking Dead’ Pilot: Can It Be More?

This is more than just a “companion series” to ‘The Walking Dead’; it’s a second chance.

Fear the Walking Dead would be an idiotic title for a series if the original The Walking Dead didn’t exist. It’s even more idiotic because The Walking Dead does exist, and the people who created Fear the Walking Dead were so uncertain of our cognitive abilities that they thought they had to put the whole title of the old show in the title of the new show, or we might miss the connection. Plus, fear them as opposed to what? What else were we going to do about the walking dead?

The ad campaign, while seemingly more thoughtful than that title, is a bit too subtle — coy, even — in seeming to suggest that this new show might be kind of like Where’s Waldo with zombies. Hey, there he is in the background of those kids playing basketball! There he is down that dark hallway! My favorite is the “Footprints in the Sand” one. “Why, when I needed you most, was there only one set of footprints?” “That’s when zombie Jesus was carrying you!”

This is more than just a “companion series” (for some reason, “prequel” and “spin-off” are considered incorrect) to The Walking Dead; it’s a second chance. It’s a chance to take our beloved zombie genre in an all-new direction, correct past mistakes, and right past wrongs. They hired some very good actors for this show, most prominently Kim Dickens (Deadwood, Treme), who probably wouldn’t play a character as poorly conceived as Lori Grimes or Andrea Harrison. Or at least, I’d hope not.

What I’m getting at is, Fear the Walking Dead offered an opportunity for the creators to address the criticism of the first couple of seasons of the original series, which, if subsequent seasons are any indication, the creative people behind TWD were sensitive to, even if they didn’t quite know how to address them.

Casting Dickens certainly opened up an opportunity to feature a strong, complex woman character on the show, and setting it in Los Angeles presented an opportunity to feature Black and Latino characters more prominently and realistically than the unfortunate T-Dog. So far, though, there are no major Latino characters (Ruben Blades will make his series debut next episode), and the two most prominent Black characters on the show are either dead or missing and presumed dead by the end of the pilot.

So far, this “companion series” is mostly about the kids. Are they going after the CW audience? It might be worthwhile if they had anything compelling to say about what young people’s lives are like in 2015. So far, that’s not the case. Carl and his stupid hat are bad enough. Do we really need a Zombie Diaries or a 9021-Dead?

Dickens is fine as Madison, a high school guidance counselor who’s just moved in with her boyfriend, English teacher Travis (Cliff Curtis). There’s that horrible cliche early on, where Travis is fixing the leaky sink on his own, while Madison wants to call the plumber. We get it, “Travis is a fixer,” co-creator Dave Erickson tells us in this interview, but you might have found a more original way to spell that out for us than a routine that felt a little tired by the time they did something like it on The Honeymooners.

They both work at the school, though not much of interest happens there. There are a lot of kids and teachers out sick, but that doesn’t really jibe with where the contagion is at this point in the show. Are those people zombies already? Do they just have some idea something bad is going on so they’re staying home? Are they running for the hills? Then why do most of the locals seem so oblivious? There’s only one kid, Tobias (Lincoln A. Castellanos), who looks like he’s 35, but actually seems to have a clue. He brings a knife to school, and when Madison catches him with it, they have a chat in her office, after she covers for him with the school security guards. When pressed, Tobias expresses impossible certainty that the world, as we know it, is coming to an end. It’s like he’s already been watching The Walking Dead for five seasons. What is this kid seeing that we, the viewers, don’t see?

Anyway, solid as Dickens and Curtis are, the focus is more on Madison’s son Nick (British actor Frank Dillane), a junkie, and her daughter, Alicia (Australian actor Alycia Debnam-Carey), the kind of television-style genius/rebel who skips class frequently, and never has much intelligent to say, but is somehow accepted into UC Berkeley. Of course, Alicia has a terrible attitude toward her mom and presumed stepdad-to-be, but that’s mostly just surface teen petulance. Over the course of the episode, we see her genuine concern for her family, including her troubled older brother. Alicia has a sweet, artistic boyfriend, Matt (Maestro Harrell) who happens to be Black, so we hope you didn’t grow attached.

Nick is more problematic. Like Debnam-Carey, Dillane is a good-looking kid, kind of like the love child of Johnny Depp and James Franco, but as Nick is supposed to be a junkie living on the streets of Los Angeles, his well-scrubbed attractiveness strains credulity. Dillane overplays Nick’s dishevelment to the point of slapstick comedy, so he’s admittedly kind of fun to watch. There’s probably some tragic backstory to explain that limp, but what could explain Nick’s frequent agape looks of terror and confusion. Drugs are bad, kids, I guess.

Drugs are bad and drug dens are dangerous places, but when the hospitalized Nick tells Travis that he might have been hallucinating, but that he saw a dead junkie woman eating someone at an artfully abandoned church that doubles as a shooting gallery, Travis decides to investigate, on his own, in the middle of the night. Now, I am the type of horror movie watcher that gets annoyed at viewers who complain that the person onscreen is stupid to go outside in the middle of the night to see what that strange noise was. When you hear a strange noise outside your house in the middle of the night, you go see what it is, unless you know you are in a horror movie. Usually, the characters don’t know. Travis’ decision to traipse around a known drug den, a decrepit shithole where murder and cannibalism have allegedly taken place earlier that day, seems a bit beyond the realm of normal human behavior. That’s more post-apocalyptic behavior than pre-apocalyptic-something-kind-of-strange-seems-to-be-going-on behavior.

There are a few effective sequences, but even the real scares, as with that first zombie-chomping scene in the church, are sloppily edited and drawn-out, and the false-alarm jump-scares are waaay overplayed, as when Madison slowly walks up to the hunched over principal at school and ominous music plays (he’s just eavesdropping on his teachers to evaluate them(?)) or, worse yet, when Travis explores the church and finds, behind a door, a screaming, gibbering, terrified junkie. It’s meant to be a shock and then a relief but it’s so overblown in every aspect (other than Curtis’ performance) that it just comes off as comical.

Calvin (Keith Powers) is an interesting case. When Madison and Travis go looking for Nick, who’s escaped from the hospital after fleeing a zombie and running into traffic, they find the chipper Calvin at his parents’ house, and he does this Eddie Haskell thing where he convincingly acts like a stand-up guy who doesn’t hang with Nick much since Nick went bad. Some time later, Nick meets Calvin at a diner, where the man has been transformed into a taciturn thug, quick to decide to murder his childhood buddy Nick because Nick might have told his mom that Calvin is a drug dealer, even though Madison gave no indication that she had any idea what Calvin did for a living. Cal is a hard man, but somehow Nick, a skinny, strung-out junkie in the midst of withdrawal, manages to overpower him when Nick sees that gun that that a badass like Calvin probably should have known to keep hidden until he was ready to use it. Anyway, it’s horrifyingly unsurprising that the first major character to be killed on the show is Black. So much for progress from the original series.

It’s pretty obvious that thematically, Nick’s half-dead. That zombie-like shuffle and his demented wide-eyed looks suggest that he is very close to turning. The actual zombies on the first episode are a fellow addict, an accident victim who goes “bath salts” crazy and is shot dead by the cops, and, eventually, Calvin. It makes sense that the show would depict this contagion spreading among working and lower-class people — the discarded, the ignored, the voiceless of East Los Angeles — while the rest of the city is quick to demonize and slow to take action. That’s not what the show depicts, though. Instead, it settles for a facile metaphor, likening drug addiction and drug culture to a kind of voluntary zombie-ism. “Drugs” seems a simplistic and inapt target, and it’s certainly an inauspicious start to a series about the eventual breakdown of society.

The show’s not all bad. It has Dickens, for one thing, and she makes us care about Madison. Dillane is ridiculous, but actually genuinely fun to watch. The idea of giving us time to get to know these characters while the horror gradually ramps up could be a good one, if anyone writing this show was good at writing characters and dialogue. I still think it has the potential to surpass the first couple of seasons of The Walking Dead.

The Future Is Behind You: David Robert Mitchell and Maika Monroe on the Chilling, Thoughtful ‘It Follows’

The fact that ‘It Follows’ is a horror film, and a surprisingly effective one, is almost secondary to the respectful way it develops its characters, particularly its protagonist, Jay, portrayed in a breakout performance by Maika Monroe.

The film is a huge sleeper hit, by low-budget indie standards. This week, it expanded to an astonishing 1,655 theaters nationwide. I spoke with Monroe and Mitchell recently by phone about how the film was made and what makes it so unique.

This is a guest post by Josh Ralske.

In 2010, writer-director David Robert Mitchell made his feature directorial debut with the charming and insightful The Myth of the American Sleepover. Unlike many contemporary coming-of-age comedies, Sleepover evinces nostalgia for youth, but shows tremendous respect and honesty in its treatment of its adolescent characters, male and female, and is beautifully shot, with the smooth camerawork tracking the teens, and a gradually darkening palette giving a sense of the potential trials of impending adulthood. The influences, notably George Lucas’s American Graffiti and Richard Linklater’s Dazed and Confused, are evident, but Mitchell has his own gently observant style.

In a way, It Follows picks up where Sleepover left off. Poignant drama over a first kiss or a missed opportunity at love is replaced with the uncertainty of first sexual encounters and an underlying genuine terror at the responsibilities of adulthood. The fact that It Follows is a horror film, and a surprisingly effective one, is almost secondary to the respectful way it develops its characters, particularly its protagonist, Jay, portrayed in a breakout performance by Maika Monroe.

After what seems a lengthy courtship, Jay has a sexual encounter with Hugh (Jake Weary), who infects her with a kind of sexually transmitted poltergeist: a malevolent entity that can take the form of any person, and will stalk Jay until it kills her, or until she has sex with someone else, passing it onto that unfortunate person. Hugh (who turns out to be using a fake name) tells the terrified Jay that if the slow moving entity succeeds in killing her, it will move back on to him. Jay has to balance the immediate physical danger to her life with the moral quandary of passing along the curse. She’s lucky enough to have a support system: her tough-minded sister, Kelly (Lili Sepe), brainy pal Yara (Olivia Luccardi), sexually confident dreamboat neighbor Greg (Daniel Zovatto), and her friend Paul (Keir Gilchrist), who’s had an unrequited crush on Jay since they were children. Once she convinces her friends the threat is real, the group goes to great lengths to help Jay save herself. In a way, the film is sort of like a more thoughtful, slowed down, and thematically denser version of the Final Destination films, with a relentless, inexorable force pursuing a group of kids, as they desperately seek a way to put a stop to it.

“Calm” is an odd way to describe a horror film, particularly one as chilling as It Follows, but that’s the word Mitchell uses, and it’s apt. This is a beautifully structured film.

“There’s a simplicity to it, to a certain degree,” Mitchell says, “and it’s actually quite complicated in other ways. It’s very simple and balanced, and calm most of the time, but there’s also a certain amount of staging and planning that goes into making it feel that simple and calm.” The film’s camerawork is intrinsic to its slow-burn paranoid terror. “We have a very steady, cool, objective camera a lot of the time,” Mitchell explains. “We often use a very wide-angle lens, and we leave a lot of space in the frame, so you can kind of see along the edges. If the characters are in the foreground, you can see into the background, and the idea was to actually place the audience within the environment that the actors are within. So that you are sort of an active participant within the film.” This effectively puts the viewer on edge, on the lookout for that slow-walking human-shaped monster on the edge of the frame. In one chilling sequence, when Jay and Greg visit a local high school looking for a lead on “Hugh,” Mitchell’s camera does a slow 360 degree pan around the pair, showing the entity moving slowly toward them outside the school, then unnervingly coming to rest on Jay and Greg, viewed through the window of a school office, and as unaware of the entity’s current location as we in the audience are.

“The goal is to be very deliberate,” Mitchell says. “Pretty much everything in the film was about being very precise and specific. Everything needed to be a choice. You don’t always hit this, but the goal is for everything to be a deliberate part of a plan. Nothing just happens because that’s what we have to do. I didn’t want to have to put a cut in a sequence unless I wanted a cut in the sequence. I didn’t want to have to move the camera unless I needed to move the camera. Everything had to be a very strong choice.”

For Monroe, in her first starring role, acting in the film was a strange, but intense experience. “It was just physically and mentally very demanding,” she tells me. “It was having to be in a dark place for almost the entire five weeks, which is not easy to do. Every day, screaming, running, crying. It’s not easy.”

Despite the intensity of the process, because of the way the film was made, Monroe had little sense of what its impact on audiences would be. “You’re filming it, and most of the time you just feel kind of ridiculous, or you’re just not thinking about trying to scare someone. I’m just more focused on the role and making it as real as possible. It only comes up with an audience, and seeing how an audience reacts, you think, ‘Oh, this might actually be scary!'” Having watched Myth before accepting the role of Jay, Monroe says, “When I was reading it, I wasn’t sure how it was going to translate into a movie, or how audiences would take it, but I had complete faith in David.”

Monroe also co-starred in another buzzed-about indie horror film, Adam Wingard’s The Guest and has a longtime interest in the genre. “Well, I grew up watching. I remember the first horror movie I watched was The Shining. My dad showed me that. And then Blue Velvet, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street. Those were all movies that I really loved and that really freaked me out. They scarred me for life. I really like them.”

Monroe remembers Mitchell asking the cast to watch David Lynch’s suburban nightmare, Blue Velvet, before making the film. A big fan of horror, he cites a number of other influences. “There’s a lot [of] stuff I like, and it’s probably entered into this, in some way. Creature from the Black Lagoon is probably my favorite horror movie. Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the original, [and] the [Philip] Kaufman version from the ’70s is a tonal influence. The original Thing and the [John] Carpenter remake as well. I watched both of them religiously. The Shining. A lot of Cronenberg. Romero. Lynch. At least in terms of horror, these are some of the people that I love.”

Monroe was also struck by the setting of the film, a Metro-Detroit suburb that grows increasingly ramshackle and dilapidated as the characters approach the battle-scarred city.

“Detroit’s just a fascinating place,” she tells me. “So many abandoned buildings where nature has taken over. It’s quite cinematic, in kind of a darker way. It was very cool to explore. I probably never would have gone to Detroit if not for filming the movie, and I think it was a really cool experience. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place like it in the United States. It’s pretty fascinating. I feel like everybody should go there at some point.”

Mitchell set the film in the area, as he did with Myth, in part because he grew up there and knew what locations would look right on film. But there’s an undercurrent of despair to the film that the location suits perfectly. “Within the story, one of the things that I wanted to highlight a little bit was people talking about the separation between the city and the suburbs, and how sad that is, and shitty that is, to be honest,” he explains.

When I asked Mitchell about the strong female protagonists of his first two features, he seemed hesitant to engage the question. “I write stories about all different kinds of characters, but these are the two that I’ve been able to make. I don’t know.” He went on to explain, “I guess it depends on the film. In regards to It Follows, it just seemed like an interesting perspective to take. I think we’re sort of playing on one of the cliches of horror films — this sort of female protagonist — and I guess I just thought I could maybe add something a little unique to that. I don’t know what to say other than I think it’s interesting to write a female character. It’s just interesting to me as a writer/filmmaker to try to see things from different points of view. When I write a character, I try to put a little bit of myself into their personality, or I try to imagine myself in that world.” Mitchell apologizes to me for that answer, but I think his empathy with Jay and the other characters is a salient and laudable feature of his work to date.

Despite the virtues of Myth, in a way, It Follows is a big step forward for Mitchell. It’s a more polished work and also one that lends itself to a wealth of interpretations. It’s a scary good time at the movies, for sure, but it also seems like the kind of film that will be studied and written about in thesis papers for generations to come.

“I’ve heard all kinds of interesting interpretations of the film,” Mitchell states, “some of which I intended, some of which I didn’t, but I love that. To me, this kind of movie is designed with that in mind.”

Josh Ralske is a freelance film writer based in New York. He has written for MovieMaker Magazine and All Movie Guide.