Alice or The Last Escapade (1977)

Lewis Carroll's classic tale, "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" gets a psychological horror/thriller/mystery makeover in Claude Chabrol's "Alice or The Last Escapade" (1977). The connection with Carroll's story is only superficial, however, including a reference to Carroll in the name of the title character. The protagonist in Chabrol's film is an adult, and the world she finds herself in is more surreal and spooky, rather than fantastical. 

It all begins with Alice (Sylvia Kristel) listening to her husband rant out his work troubles while munching on some grapes and hardly even looking at her. After he is done, Alice informs him that she couldn't stand him anymore and had decided to leave him. It appears from this little but important sequence, that perhaps, Alice's husband is only a talker and not a listener.

Alice storms out of the house that stormy night, taking along a suitcase and driving off, only to be overpowered by the unrelenting rains. The windshield suddenly breaks and she is forced to pull over at the nearest gate, which happens to be of a plush estate with a large mansion. Her host, a sweet old man, Mr. Vergennes (Charles Vanel) and his butler Colas (Jean Carmet) are most hospitable and they provide her food and shelter for the night.

Come morning, and Alice finds that her car has been fixed; there is coffee and breakfast laid out on the table, but her hosts seem to have mysteriously disappeared! She attempts to pack up and leave, but finds that she is unable to do so, as there no longer seems to be an exit to the estate! As she struggles to escape the property, she encounters some bizarre events and strange characters in the ghostly mansion. Just where exactly has Alice landed herself?

"Alice or The Last Escapade" is unlike any other Chabrol film, and the great filmmaker does a commendable job with a premise outside of his comfort zone. An unsettling, chilling atmosphere dominates every frame, even in scenes shot during the daytime, as for the most part, Alice seems to be the only one around. It's like everyone else has practically vanished from the world. 

An eerie sound design and score contribute to the slow burning tension which escalates, establishes its presence and stays afloat in an elegantly controlled form, thereby leaving the viewer in a wide-eyed state of suspense throughout the film's duration. The cinematography is exquisite with an exemplary use of lights and shadows, rendering a creepy touch to most of the sequences shot in the dimly lit mansion.

There is that familiar horror film cliché of a broken clock that stops and starts functioning at its will, and mostly in a definite time window. "We don't care too much about time around here", Colas the butler quips upon being asked about the clock. It is a rather ominous exchange, which makes one think; could Alice have crossed over to another dimension where time and space, as we know it, don't exist? In an interesting twist, the clock doesn't serve as a mere cliché, once Alice intelligently deduces its purpose!

Chabrol's usual mastery in characterizationis put to good use here in the portrayal of Alice. In a situation like this, one would expect Alice to be a hysterical and sobbing victim. Chabrol betrays viewer expectations, however, and turns predictability over its head by giving Alice an icy cool and mildly arrogant aura. She takes her predicament in her stride with an unusual élan.

Even following the initial realization that she cannot get out, Alice sheds a few tears of fear, but the feisty, headstrong woman that she is, she quickly regains composure, determined not to be licked by her captors. When each one of the weird lot she meets refuses to answer questions saying it is futile to ask, she decides to play by their rules by shutting herself off and refusing to divulge her feelings about the whole thing. The shift of power is noteworthy; the ones supposedly playing her begin to look innocent and nice, while the captive seems strangely unconcerned and grows increasingly smug, subtly taking charge.

With characters like the little boy with a bird cage and via the strange occurrence at the diner, Chabrol subtly hints at the nature of Alice's predicament and what in fact, could be happening to her. A particular episode at the gas station is rather unnerving, but also one that is there for a purpose. None of this is heavy-handed though, and melds in seamlessly with the intriguing narrative until the third act, when a particular sequence does tend to sway a bit on the expository side. The exposition itself is vague, fortunately and doesn't entirely insult the intelligence of the viewers.

While some of the special effects, thankfully used only in a couple of scenes, may have a dated feel, there is no denying that "Alice or The Last Escapade" (1977) is an overlooked, essential Chabrol classic, a genre-bending work that is perhaps, unique to his filmography, and one that needs to be recognized among his best works.

Score: 9/10

The Double (2013)

A classic 19th century doppelganger tale from a Fyodor Dostoyevsky novella gets a modern twist in Richard Ayoade's "The Double" (2013).

Simon James (Jesse Eisenberg) is your archetypal pushover loser, working in a claustrophobic, bureaucratic workplace that looks like a miniature model of Josef K's office in "The Trial" (1962), albeit with cubicle partitions. A typically meek individual, he is the kind of person who would quietly take a cold snub from even the security guard at his own office where he has been working for the last seven years. Almost always unable to muster the courage to speak out or retaliate, Simon leads a doormat existence, even to the point of not being recognized or acknowledged by some of his colleagues.

Enter James Simon, his exact physical double but characteristically exact polar opposite, who shows up as a new employee. Much to Simon's shock and dismay, others around him seem to accept this double rather nonchalantly, without any kind of disbelief or amazement regarding their physical and namesake resemblance. Simon's already tenuous position is further jeopardized when this new entrant, his phenomenally charismatic doppelganger threatens to take over his job, his love, his life, even his entire existence.

"The Double" is essentially a Kafkaesque nightmare that plays out like a deliriously funny, absurdist black comedy. A pitiable protagonist makes a good subject for some wickedly humorous writing, and Ayoade and co-screenwriter Avi Korine hit all the right notes with the tragicomedy that ensues. The story is not necessarily original or unheard of, thanks to the existence of various interpretations and re-imaginations of Dostoyevsky's story in several films and shorts of the sort, but "The Double" is a product that still manages to stand on its own. Despite obvious influences that leap out, Ayoade's film makes a big impression thanks to some crackling wry wit, oodles of atmosphere and a strong lead performance.

Indeed, Jesse Eisenberg hits a home run with his brilliantly segregated dual act. Despite almost the same makeup on both James and Simon, Eisenberg successfully creates two drastically distinct individuals with entirely disparate body languages and speech mannerisms. On one hand is the submissive mouse, Simon who can hardly get himself to utter two words audible and assertive enough for the other person to hear, while on the other is James, the smooth-and-fast-talking smart-ass, evoking memories of his "The Social Network" (2010) performance. It is a masterstroke for both the filmmaker and the actor, that they are able to elicit extreme emotional responses from the viewer for the same guy in a single frame.

The heart almost weeps for the poor, rejected bloke that is Simon and at the same time loathes that same face that we see on James. Rivaling this dual act is Mia Wasikowska as Hannah, the object of Simon's silent affection, who seems to have some schizophrenic tendencies of her own, what with her switching from uber cute to uber rude in a visible transformation, physically as well as behaviourally. Of course, finding a normal individual in Ayoade's film is a bit of a task, considering, but not limited to, the fact that we are looking at the events on the screen mostly with Simon's lens. Plenty of eccentric looneys show up, a la the films of David Lynch, particularly that creepy old woman with short pigtails who ominously declares, "Your mother says you are a strange boy!".

And hence it is a matter of personal interpretation as to what happens in that maddening third act when all hell breaks loose with James' increasing influence, as Simon's personality begins to nullify. With a rising existential crisis, his sanity gradually spirals out of control and desperation gets the better of him. He struggles to keep his identity, with the film now changing tone from a light, fun comedy to a genuinely unsettling nightmare, especially when it appears that there are doubles of some others around as well!

Apart from an engrossing plot of a formidable predicament, Ayoade's imaginative depiction of the dreary world inhabited by our hapless protagonist goes a long way in making the film so immensely watchable. Simon appears to be a part of some draconian society led by a Big Brother like figure known only as "The Colonel". With mandatory dos and extremely bureaucratic adherence to rules, including the refusal to admit even an old, familiar employee without an ID, this world resembles a sort of hybrid between the one in Michael Radford's adaptation of George Orwell's "Nineteen Eighty-Four" (1984) and Orson Welles' Kafka adaptation, "The Trial" (1962).

An industrial setting, with an environment that is mostly dark, evokes memories of "Eraserhead" (1977). We never really see any daylight, it is mostly only night time on screen, beautifully illuminated by moody lighting with shifting shades and colours. A low rumble, again a common Lynch trait, fills the air for the most part, when it is not the heavy strings score. Choice songs occupy the soundtrack, and the incorporation and placement of the classic Japanese number "Sukiyaki" by Kyu Sakamoto is a stroke of genius, rendering a magical touch, arousing feelings of sweet romance and nostalgia. Closely constructed apartment buildings and instances of voyeurism are a respectful nod to Kieslowski's The Decalogue - VI ("Thou Shalt not Covet") (1988).

2013 was a year that saw the release of another spectacular doppelganger thriller, "Enemy", directed by Denis Villeneuve. "The Double" is no exact double of Villeneuve's masterpiece, but it is one of the finest psychological thrillers out there. Grab it without hesitation.


Score: 9/10

Anguish (1987)

"All the eyes of the city will be ours!"

Now this one came out of nowhere and managed to sink its claws firmly into the psyche, somewhat reflecting the occurrences in its bizarre story. Spanish filmmaker Bigas Luna taps some of the classic horror essentials in a tribute of sorts and demonstrates the true power of cinema in a manner that is effective enough to get under your skin.

It is quite difficult to outline the plot synopsis of "Anguish" (1987) without spoiling some of the fun, but as an entry point in order to pique the interest of the viewer/reader, it is sufficient to say that what we are dealing with are at least two parallel stories, occurring in two different universes. One of the major narrative strands deals with a psychotic old mother, Ms. Pressman, the fabulously over the top Zelda Rubinstein, who sends her only son John (Michael Lerner), an optometrist, out to murder people via hypnosis and mind control, so that he can gouge their eyes out and bring them home to add to her eye-collection!

In a separate narrative, a disturbingly violent film playing in the theater begins to have an effect on its audiences, with many of them showing visible signs of discomfort and anxiety. In particular, a teenage girl in the audience suspects something grossly wrong as she begins to feel giddy and senses a sinister, murdering presence lurking within the theater. Incidentally, the film playing on screen also depicts a murderous psychopath storming a movie theater....

Bigas Luna bases his film on a gimmick that thankfully doesn't come off as forced or cheap and justifies its presence in the context of his story. The result is a cracker of a film with intertwined tales, intelligent juxtapositions and narrative ideas that are wholly original, despite stylistic borrowings from Italian horror maestros Dario Argento (in the visuals, lighting effects, atmosphere) and Lucio Fulci (in the gore department), albeit with a lot of polish, enhanced production values and crisp photography, that saves "Anguish" from the B-movie tackiness.

The segment involving mother Pressman and her son John, in particular boasts of some of the finest hypnotic imagery and the most imaginative sound design ever; something that David Lynch would surely be proud of. In a particularly disorienting scene of brainwashing, there are some trippy visuals and sonic effects that literally mess with your head and throw you in a trance. The Pressmans' home decor itself renders a surrealistic touch, what with its collection of strange artefacts, small birds and animals including metaphorical snails the mother uses to describe her son ("Hiding, happy..") in a mantra in one of her procedures. The insanity, the dominating mother, the weirdo son and the birds, all combine to form a nice little Hitchcock homage as well.

The setting and premise of the other narrative thread of the movie theater does bring to mind Lamberto Bava's horror classic "Demons" (1985), but Luna's film definitely trumps it in almost every department by a huge margin, if not the gore department. That isn't to discredit the gore in Luna's film; it is very much there in adequate doses, and some of the sequences are downright quease-inducing!

The references are not limited to other cinematic works but to cinema itself, as a medium that is capable of enslaving the audiences who are willing to submit themselves to its immersive power. Cinema has the ability to transport the viewer to another time and place. 

An involving film makes the viewer a part of the narrative, and with "Anguish", Luna takes this idea several steps further and makes it literal. Boundaries are crossed, and mediums collapse upon each other, rendering the distinction invisible. The choice of eyes as Ms Pressman's collectibles and the quote above are not random. Eyes is the primary means of perception and with Ms Pressman owning the eyes, the film in Luna's film and Luna's film itself owns its respective audiences!

John Carpenter pulled off the idea of crossing the barrier between the dimensions of fiction and reality really well in his "In the Mouth of Madness" (1994). In that film, the power of written fiction has an effect on its fans and they go insane. Luna's film came seven years before Carpenter's and, albeit not explicitly, Luna dabbles with a similar idea, with a very inventive film-within-film-within-film trope that works brilliantly. Luna also juggles multiple narrative threads quite skilfully as they meld or cross paths in some meticulous editing choices, often throwing the viewer off guard by almost obfuscating the line between distinct narratives and in this case, even between celluloid and actuality!

Michael Lerner and Zelda Rubinstein add to the delight of the film with their outstanding performances, mixing deliciously creepy and darkly hilarious together, acts that they clearly seem to be enjoying, while the teen girls in the theater and other cast members somehow disappoint with their half-baked acts and stilted mannerisms and line delivery.

The acting in the theater segment doesn't become so much an eyesore however, thanks to Luna's handling of the material that rises above the problem areas. He keeps it all considerably tense by constantly playing with the viewers' minds and expectations with disconcerting imagery, remarkable sound effects and startling plot shifts, eventually culminating in an unpredictable and chilling finale that aptly reflects the old idiom, "It's not over, 'til it's over", and compels you to stick around till the final credit roll.


Score: 8/10