Just a Spoonful of Nocebo

The filmmakers behind Vivarium team up with Eva Green? HOW QUICKLY CAN I WATCH THIS?

Quick Plot: Christine is an ultra chic fashion designer specializing in children's clothing with the support of marketing executive husband Felix and their bratty daughter Roberta ("Bogs" to those she likes). Upon launching a new line, Christine receives an ominous phone call at work about a mysterious disaster. As she takes in the news, a mangy dog appears out of nowhere, shaking his dirt out and tossing a tick straight at her neck.

A few months pass and Christine has been knocked down a few pegs, both professionally and personally. As she tries to piece her career back together, a stranger shows up claiming to be a nanny hired by the forgetful Christine. She cooks well and has some quick panic attack-fighting tricks, so despite some hesitancy, Christine and Felix decide to let her stay.

Diana is Mary Poppins by way of the Philippines, only, as you will figure out quite quickly, a supernanny with her own motives. Played by Chai Fonacier with a sweet smile and astounding confidence, Diana is the perfect interloper to the colder Felix and flighty Christine. You can feel the walls start to come down and it's a marvel to see how easy it feels in Diana's capable hands. 

Lorcan Finnegan's Vivarium was one of my favorite watches a few years back, and it's a film that continues to grow on me whenever I think back on its themes and style. I came into Nocebo hearing fairly underwhelming reviews from the horror community and unfortunately, I can see why. This is a good film, and one made all the better by the playful performance of Fonacier and the utter perfection that is and has always been Eva Green. But there's a fundamental flaw to the storytelling that will require some spoilers to suss out.

Here's the thing that puzzled me about Nocebo: was I supposed to be surprised? Garret Shanley's script doesn't come out and tell us what caused Christine's initial breakdown, but it feels incredibly obvious 10 minutes in based on the very clear clues. Likewise, without knowing a single thing about Nocebo other than "possible evil nanny movie", I could tell you that Diana must have lost a child in the same tragedy that destroyed Christine's brand. 

This would be fine if the film had more to say or do after the revelation, but, well, it mostly doesn't. As the audience, we're challenged to figure out where our loyalty lies but by the time we reach the 'reveal,' it's hard (I hope) for anyone to still trust Christine as the victim. Overall, while there's a lot to admire about a film that takes a clear stand against inhumane labor conditions, the actual story in front of us just doesn't connect as well as it could without any real element of surprise. 

High Points

Praise Morpheus! I will highly celebrate positive CPAP representation on film, something usually thrown in as a joke. But if EVA GREEN can use one, I don't feel so bad 

Low Points

Aforementioned odd lack of story suspense

Lessons Learned

Medication is great and all but have you ever just tried tickling to reduce panic attacks?

The brattier the kid, the meaner the bullies

Never give a child model chocolate before a shoot

Rent/Bury/Buy

I'm right down the middle on Nocebo. Chai Fonacier is a find, and Eva Green is, as always, incredibly watchable (especially here, where she gets to find complicated notes). But in the end, there's just not much there once you figure out what the film is saying (and there's a good chance you'll do that in the first reel). I'll be curious to know if others have the same challenges, so if you do catch the film (streaming now on Shudder) please stop by and share!

The TV Told Me To

It's hilarious to me when someone complains about modern horror being too "political". Is it possible that the same people who complain about Black Lives Matter motivating 2021's Candyman thought 1992's Candyman was some kind of mindless slasher? Did they sleep through the part that explains the legacy of Daniel Ribedou, and just not see ANYTHING social in terms of how a single white lady's beating trumps multiple murders in order to finally bring down a criminal who had previously limited his crimes to his own color?

Anyhoo, I mention this because today's feature is, in a word, political. 

Try not to be bothered.

Quick Plot: Nick is reluctantly bringing his girlfriend Annji to meet his rather awful family for Christmas. While mom Beth is friendly enough, dad Tony is a bigoted jerk, pregnant sister Kate is a ditzy racist, her husband Scott, more muscles than brain, and grandpa (played by the always good-at-being-terrible David Bradley) even worse than Walder Frey.

Nick and Annji attempt to make an early escape before breakfast but hit a (literal) roadblock: the house has been barricaded by some form of unbreakable steel-like substance. Their phones don't work, and the only contact they have with the outside world is their television.

The cable might be out, but their screen has some messages, beginning with the film's very title. Tony, a long-time rule follower and ardent fan of bureaucracy, is quick to assume the messages are government-issued and meant to be followed to a tee. When it tells them their food has been contaminated, Tony forces the whole kitchen in the trash. When a pack of seven dirty needles is sent into their home via a one-way chute, Tony is quick to inject himself with whatever mystery tonic is promised.

Groan, you might say, assuming Await Further Instructions is a commentary on the public's willingness to get vaccinated. Relax: much like the similarly extremely pandemic-appropriate-but-made-pre-pandemic Vivarium, Await Further Instructions was filmed before any of us had heard of COVID-19.

And of course, that's in part what makes it so interesting. Unfolding like a severe Twilight Zone episode, Await Further Instructions is part of that wonderfully off-kilter horror subgenre: part supernatural mystery, and bigger part throw-humans-in-a-philosophical-conundrum-and-watch-them-fall-apart drama. 

The Milgrams --yes, the family name is a tad on the nose, though also something of a surprise misdirect -- are a pretty rough lot. A slightly deeper screenplay might have taken a tad more time in fleshing them out, as some of the film's more affective moments come when our slightly black-or-white characters seem to be actually thinking outside of their narrow boxes. Still, a year plus of watching the worst of humanity make an international pandemic far more deadly than needed makes it hard to, well, be too hard on screenwriter Gavin Williams for creating a cast that would rather trust racist instincts than modern science.

Sigh.

Directed by the late Johnny Kevorkian, Await Further Instructions is not exactly a fun watch, what with the muddy politics and rather terrible human beings. Still, the fact that such a specifically quarantine-set thriller was made two years before we all started debating vaccines and sourdough recipes is rather fascinating, and it's hard to not see the film as an interesting, unfinished commentary on how some portions of society might handle this kind of disaster.

Of course, this being a British film made in 2018, Await Further Instructions is probably more about Brexit than mask mandates, but that's less obvious to a dumb American like myself, and the film I got was thoughtful, if flawed. It doesn't quite go where you might initially expect (both a good and bad thing) and it can be a bit shrill along the way, but it's wholly original and effectively frightening for a variety of reasons, even if some happened after the fact. 

High Points

Plenty of credit where it's due: Await Further Instructions is a genuinely surprising film, with a few plot turns and sudden jumps that I was not necessarily prepared for

Low Points
I get tired of saying it, but it's my (unpaid) job: a figurative dark movie is not legally required to be literally dark. As a rule, most audiences prefer to actually see things when they watch a film

Lessons Learned
There are some ingenious people working in government

When your boyfriend tells you that his family is racist and horrible, you should probably listen

Always stay stocked on bottled water

Rent/Bury/Buy

If COVID-related drama (even unintentionally so) makes you anxious, then you're best skipping Await Further Instructions. For the rest of us weirdos, this is a neat (if imperfect) dose of bizarro what-if. Find it on Netflix if you're so inclined. 

The Stepford Tenants

Having recently moved, I can tell you that much like dental visits, apartment hunting needs little special effects to become an effective horror movie.

Quick Plot: Following the death of her mother, Sarah has moved away from her estranged father in order to start fresh in LA. She bumbles through a temp job at a law office with more ambitious plans of finishing her costume design degree. Her only companion is an adorable (AND VERY CLEARLY ILL-FATED YOU'VE BEEN WARNED OKAY) kitty named Giles, a sweet boy who makes apartment hunting a bit of a challenge.

Sarah finds the perfect titular one-bedroom apartment in a warm and friendly building with nightly barbecues but a cruel no-pets policy. She manages to sneak Giles inside, but within a few days, an anonymous neighbor is slipping threats under her door.

1BR moves surprisingly quickly, and about 30 minutes in, gives its big reveal. Stop now if you're planning on watching (something I do recommend, kitty bake aside).

Now that you've seen what you need to see, let's dig in.

Naturally, Sarah's new digs are part of some Stepford-like compound, where a now deceased visionary crafted the perfect community, leaving his descendants to carry on the traditions of torture-induced mind control. That handsome flirtatious neighbor? Obviously more Hitler youth than Hallmark movie love interest.

1BR is writer/director David Marmor's first full-length feature, and it shows a whole lot of promise. As I mentioned during my Vivarium praise, I love this kind of story: idyllic shared communities with secrets just unlock something that's fun to explore, and offer so much room for weird style dives. On that front, 1BR could probably have dived deeper, though I'm sure certain budget restrictions might have played a part there.

1BR is a very strong debut, particularly in its smartly speedy pacing. It won't linger forever in my head the way, say The Stepford Wives does, but there's a lot of good stuff on display, and I hope to see Marmor stay in the genre and continue to develop his voice for some time.

High Points
I don't want to spoil 1BR or another, even better LA-set horror film of recent years, but I will say that the ending, which gave us an exciting "this is much bigger than you think it is" twist was quite satisfying

Low Points
Nicole Brydon Bloom is perfectly fine as Sarah, but it's hard to resist thinking about how much more interesting this kind of story would be if told from someone that wasn't your typical pretty young white woman so often cast as the lead (especially when it throws us a more dynamic sidekick in Celeste Sully's Lisa)

Lessons Learned
Any community that seems too friendly is, without any doubt, completely evil

Any community that doesn't welcome pets is, obviously, completely evil

Do I need to say more?

Rent/Bury/Buy
True horror fans might understand this statement: 1BR feels more like a Shudder original than a Netflix movie, which is a good thing. This is a quick, sharp little thriller that is more satisfying than not. Give it a go.

The Sorta Newlywed Game

 

Continuing the accidental marathon of recent-but-pre-pandemic-films-that-all-too-well-apply-to-the-pandemic-era, here's a mangled love story fitting for our times!

Quick Plot: Eve and Tom are a happily engaged young couple with finance woes. British Eve is still waiting on her American visa, while Tom is determined to make it as a novelist (cue my gag here). 

Eve comes across a classified ad that is naturally too good to be true: a psychological institute is looking for newlyweds to take part in a month-long study for a grand payment of $50K. The goal is to disseminate the titular honeymoon phase, and to learn exactly what it is that turns once-amorous couples into bitter divorcees. 

Faking a month-long marriage, the Jacobs are moved into a high-tech apartment where their only communication to the outside world comes in the form of their hologram study check-ins. They can request anything they need to be instantly deposited in their kitchen (think Alexa meets those cool bank teller drive-thru depositories). Eve figures it will give Tom the perfect opportunity to write that novel (cue my stifled laughter) and they're off to a nice start. 

Or are they? Upon their first round at sex in their new setup, Eve is shaken by Tom's unusually aggressive style. He's not writing (obviously) and worst of all, seems to be newly obsessed with having a baby. 

After taking LSD one night, Eve witnesses an older participating couple in an act of violence. Tom sees nothing, nor does the study's director or any of his cameras. Was it just a bad trip, or have the gaslights been primed?

The Honeymoon Phase is the feature debut of writer/director Phillip G. Carroll Jr. and was apparently filmed on a shoestring budget with some intrepid use of Airbnb. On that note, it's incredibly impressive. While the limitations show their head a bit when the action moves outside its primary setting, The Honeymoon Phase is sharply put together, both in its visuals and performances. 

I wish I could say the same about the story, which has grand ambitions but feels a bit muddled, particularly in its rushed final act. Watching The Honeymoon Phase, it was hard to not think about Vivarium, my favorite new film of last year (and one also streaming on Amazon). It's also a tale of a young, happy but not yet experienced couple trapped in a home designed to meet their basic needs, but one clearly after a far more sinister agenda.

I don't think The Honeymoon Phase reaches the bar Vivarium set, but it makes for an interesting pairing, and one appropriately fit for our seemingly endless pandemic quarantine. There's a lot to be explored in the nature of millennial relationships, with power dynamics quite different than they were in older generations. Eve serves as our point of view, but Carroll does play with her reliability. There's always the chance that everything is operating exactly as it should.

I didn't love The Honeymoon Phase, and I doubt I'll revisit it anytime soon, but it certainly held my attention and felt extremely fresh (even if I was a tad distracted thinking of somewhat similar films). I wish the screenplay had another draft or two, and I don't know that I loved where it left me, but it was successful for what it was. 

High Points

Any woman can tell you that no words are more offensive and dismissive than "calm down," and The Honeymoon Phase subtly uses things to s to growing effect

Low Points

I can forgive budgetary challenges that made The Honeymoon Phase's climax a bit, well, anticlimactic, but the explanation surrounding the reveal AND the coda left me feeling pretty unsatisfied, which is never a good way to walk away from a film

Lessons Learned

The more closeups of a crimson curling iron, the stronger the payoff for said crimson curling iron being used in an act of violence

Wannabe writers who want to be writers just to say they're writers will always find excuses not to write

If the psychologist in charge of the Dharma Initiative is the guy running your experiment, consider reading the fine print 

Rent/Bury/Buy

In the realm of low budget, minimalist sci-fi horror, The Honeymoon Phase is something new. There are more accomplished tellings of this out there (the aforementioned Vivarium, for one), but there's plenty to pull out of this one. Give it a spin. 

The Stepford Lives

 

One of my favorite measurements for a horror movie is to examine what kind of dreams I have the night I watch it. For Vivarium, they were WEIRD.

That's a good thing.

Quick Plot: Gemma and Tom are growing increasingly frustrated by their limited findings in their quest for the perfect home. Having exhausted the nearby possibilities, they decide to check out Yonder, a new suburban development that seems a little far out of the way of Gemma's schoolhouse and Tom's landscaping job.

They're led to Yonder by Martin, an incredibly odd realtor who doesn't seem to know how to speak to other human beings. Yonder itself seems nice enough: street after street of identical avocado green 2-bedroom homes with modern kitchens and compact yards. There's even a pre-decorated baby boy's room just waiting for the right couple to give to their first male child.

Just as Gemma begins to question where the rest of the neighbors are, Martin vanishes, leaving Gemma and Tom to hop back in their car and hightail it out of there. 

Except, of course, there is no way out.

Well, maybe I spoke too soon. After trying to escape a few of the old fashioned ways, Tom and Gemma receive a mysterious delivery in a Blue Apron-style cardboard box. Unlike their past vacuum-sealed tasteless food, this one contains a newborn baby with a simple message: Raise the child and be released.

Talk about society forcing parenthood on childless couples! The child, it turns out, is a weird little thing, one who ages at an exponential rate but remains a rather horrible, inhuman creature who insists on dressing like a Mormon missionary. Tom and Gemma have agreed to treat it like a thing, feeding it cereal to stop the incessant screaming but avoiding any hints of affection.

One day, Tom discovers some sort of gooey dirt underneath his astroturf lawn. With nothing else to do, he starts to dig, hoping he can discover a path out of Yonder or just keep himself busy and farther away from the incredibly creepy Young Sheldon wannabe that wants to be his son. Gemma, a schoolteacher, can't help but become intrigued by the kid's development.

Vivarium is my kind of movie (see my love of the much underrated House Hunting). It's a genuinely unique but focused premise, and writer/director Lorcan Finnegan lays it out with such twisted simplicity that I think I fell in love. Granted, I find the idea of forced parenthood of monster children to be my deepest nightmare, making me an easy mark for this kind of story, but there's a lot more here: a passionate but fragile romantic relationship thrown into a cruel test before it's really ready, suggestions of otherworldy creatures with a terrifying master plan, literal layers of strangeness, and more.

I dug it.

High Points

I truly hope Imogen Poots enjoys genre filmwork because my GOSH is she good at it. This woman deserves a much bigger career than she thus far has, but I wonder if she actively picks her projects because the roles themselves give her so much room to explore. She's as good here as she was in Black Christmas, conveying such a deep well of dying enthusiasm for her life while still having some kind of conscience about her decisions

Low Points

I actually really like how Jesse Eisenberg is used, but I do wish there was just a little more charm to him at the beginning to justify what Gemma really saw in him in the first place

Lessons Learned

I know we all watched The Babadook thinking, "this is the worst child in horror movie existence" but guess what? This kid makes Sam look like Rhoda Penmark as seen by those who didn't suspect her of serial killing. My point here, in terms of a lesson, is that there are simply no bottom to the depths of how awful children can really be

Rent/Bury/Buy

Quarantine has put Vivarium in more prominent spotlight than it might have otherwise, and sure: a story about the insanity of being stuck in one place with the same faces, homeschooling an unstable boy certainly speaks to our time, but in any other year, I think I still would be highly recommending this film. There's a strong sense of discipline at work in Finnegan's work here, and I'm excited to see more.