Posts Tagged ‘Gene Jones’

dementia

Like you, I’m sure, I’ve learned to become more than suspicious of the Netflix “Recommended For You” list, and more often than not find myself wondering if whatever algorithm comes up with it really takes into consideration my prior viewing habits at all. Once in awhile, though — just once in awhile — the damn thing comes up trumps and scuttles my plans to quit paying attention to it altogether for at least a little bit longer. Last night was just such an occasion, as a 2015 indie horror flick from a director I’ve never heard of named Mike Testin found its way to the top of my recommendations and, having nothing else and/or better to do, I decided to give it a go, only to walk away from it 90 minutes later pleasantly surprised by the whole thing and reasonably eager to get off my ass and tell you good folks out there with free time on your hands to watch it, as well.

Mind you, Dementia is far from a perfect film, and probably isn’t worth a purchase on Blu-ray or DVD (where it’s available from IFC Films’ “IFC Midnight” label), but it’s definitely deserving of either a rental or a quick press of the red “play” arrow on Netflix — but let’s do things in the polite order of business here and talk about what does work before delving into what doesn’t. Sound fair? Okay, I’m glad you agree.

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The setup at the heart of this movie is a fairly simple one — aging Vietnam vet George Lockhart (played by Gene Jones, who you may remember as the only good thing about Ti West’s The Sacrament) appears to be losing his marbles and,  sure enough, when doctors confirm that he’s experiencing a form of early-onset dementia, his grown, largely estranged children Shebly (Hassie Harrison) and Jerry (Peter Cilella) go on the hunt for a live-in nurse to look after their old man because they don’t want to be bothered with the cantankerous geriatric bastard themselves. Their selection process seems a little less than rigorous, relying mostly on whoever is sent their way, but a young lady with seemingly good experience in the field named Michelle (Kristina Klebe, last referenced on this site for her role in the superb  DePalma-esque thriller Proxy) absolutely wows ’em and gets the job. And, of course, right away she starts filling George’s head with all kinds of exquisite nonsense about himself and his past that simply can’t be true — or can it?

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By the time Michelle starts adding physical abuse to her repetoire of torment, both our heads and George’s are so tied up in knots that, who knows? Either we come to believe that maybe the crotchety coot’s got it coming, or if he doesn’t, well — this is some seriously sick shit that’s going down. The two lead performances here are so damn good (and the same can be said of the always-awesome Richard Riehle, who turns up in one of his customary just-above-cameo-level roles) that they go a long way toward selling you on the idea that anything could be happening here and that either the patient or his nurse is a really warped effing sicko, but here’s the one big problem that prevents Dementia from moving into the “modern horror classic” ranks — screenwriter Meredith Berg’s script is more or less a gigantic black hole sucking anything remotely resembling suspense deep into its hungry maw and never letting it escape. You’ll know well before the flick hits the halfway point who Michelle really is, why she’s doing what she’s doing, and whether or not her actions are justified. And all the good acting in the world can’t do a damn thing to change that, unfortunately.

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Not that Testin, his cast, and his crew aren’t to be commended for doing their level best to trick you into believing that maybe you’ve got it all wrong, of course. They most certainly are. And they really do convince you to hang onto your “come on, it can’t be so simple — can it?” sense of disbelief all the way through to the end. But when said end does arrive, along with said explanations, and it all does prove to be every bit as straightforward as you were afraid it might be, well — it really is a bit of a letdown, simply because any film this well-shot and well-acted deserves a better wrap-up than this one gives both itself and us.

Still, what the heck, I had a pretty good time with Dementia (how weird would that statement sound in any other context?), in spite of the fact that it may be guilty of promising at least a little bit more than it actually delivers — and if you go in fore-armed with the knowledge that, contrary to what may appear to be the case, everything really is exactly what it seems to be, chances are that you’ll find it to be plenty worth your while, as well.

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I love Ti West. You love Ti West. All of us who love horror love Ti West. I mean, he’s the future, right? Proof that the genre is in good hands moving forward. The guy we’re all rooting for. The next big thing.

But ya know what? Even the finest directors make an occasional misstep, and as much as it feels like rooting against the home team to say that’s what 2013’s The Sacrament is — well, that’s what 2013’s The Sacrament is.

But not, necessarily, for all the reasons you might be thinking — “found footage” horrors are played out, Eli Roth hanging around as an air-quote “producer” is getting tiresome, etc. In truth, for the type of story being told here, “found footage” fits the bill just fine, and I can detect little to no “stain of Roth” on the proceedings. No, where The Sacrament comes up short is in the fact that we’ve seen more or less this exact same story done before — anyone remember Guyana : Crime Of The Century Cult Of The Damned ? — and in perpetuating dangerous, and frankly racist, myths about the massarce (not “mass suicide”) that occurred at Jonestown in 1978.

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Now, hold your horses — before you think I’m accusing West of being a racist himself, let me state for the record that he’s not, at least to my knowledge. But he has, like most people, bought into the official lie of what happened at Jonestown — a lie regurgitated frequently by the media — and that lie is, in fact, rooted in racism (as was Jim Jones’ entire operation). So let’s be clear that’s what I’m talking about when I bring up the “R word” here. Simply put, the idea that a charismatic but insane white preacher convinced a bunch of ignorant and trusting black people — particularly black women — to pour poison kool-aid down the mouths of their babies before taking their own lives in similar fashion is a monumental, despicable, unconscionable, racist lie. It’s a lie that’s been spoon-fed to us for a good few decades now, and most folks still believe it, but there’s no evidence to support it, there never has been, and there is, in fact, a wealth of evidence to suggest that the victims at Jonestown didn’t kill themselves at all but were, in fact, murdered.

For those unfamiliar with this side of the story I appreciate the fact that I probably sound like a raving “conspiracy loon” at this point, but I assure you that numerous respected researchers, as well as many of the victims’ relatives, have been pursuing this very same subject doggedly for years now. Heck, a court of law right here in the US even granted a huge compensation award to many of the family members who stated that no less than the CIA itself  was responsible for the tragedy in Guyana. That claim, as you’d probably expect, remains unpaid as of this writing.

Still — what’s the CIA got to do with it all, you may ask at this point? Well, quite a lot, as it turns out, but as I don’t want to go too far down that rabbit hole when I’m just supposed to be writing a movie review here, let me just say that anyone interested in learning more would do well to follow this link to read a detailed, exhaustive analysis of what really happened at Jonestown written by the late, great John Judge : http://ratical.org/ratville/JFK/JohnJudge/Jonestown.html . It’s unsettling information, to be sure, and proof that reality is far more horrific than even the most graphic and uncompromising works of fiction (cinematic or otherwise), but if you’re in the mood to have your blinders about how the world actually works taken off (and taken off forcibly, at that), Judge’s essay is essential reading.

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And on that note — let’s get back to the flick, shall we? Essentially what West is going for here is a “what if Jonestown happened in the internet age?” angle, and it’s a pretty obvious approach, since this material lends itself well to the “immersionism” style of journalism so popular online these days. To that end, he has a three-man crew (composed of fellow “splat-packer” Joe Swanberg, AJ Bowen, and Kentucker — -dear God, that’s a stupid name — Audley) from vice.com (you know them — they’re the folks whose coverage of what was really going down “on the ground” in Ferguson, Missouri recently absolutely blew the mainstream media’s slanted take on things out of the water) go down to an unnamed South American jungle nation to investigate the happenings at a religious commune called Eden Parish when one of the triumvirate’s sister, a recovering drug addict (played by Amy Seimetz) sends a letter back home that sounds just too damn good to be true.

And, from there, we basically know how everything else plays out. That probably sounds mighty dismissive, but shit, it’s true : the unnamed country is Guyana, Eden Parish is an obvious stand-in for Jonestown, and the camp’s leader (portrayed superbly by Gene Jones) even goes by the self-appointed title of “Father,” as Jones himself did. Our internet journalists essentially fill the role played in real life by the late congressman Leo Ryan and the team of reporters and photographers he brought down with him down to the jungle in that they’re threatening to expose the phony “socialist paradise” that Jones (who was, in point of fact, a hard-line right-winger  despite his public pronouncements to the contrary) said he was constructing for what it was — a slave-labor camp — and neither they, nor the people living there, can be allowed to survive once “father”‘s sadistic shell game has been exposed as a fraud. From there, it’s just a matter of time until the final — and titular — sacrament occurs and everyone offs themselves.

To West’s credit, he does at least show that many people were less than willing to go gently into that less-than-good-night and were either forced at gunpoint to do so, or else just plain shot. To his discredit, he portrays all of the armed “security” goons at Eden Parish as being black, when in truth, all of Jones’ inner circle — including every single person he entrusted with firearms — was white. The blacks, for their part,  were forced to work the fields and do the heavy labor of construction, etc. — the place was pretty much a plantation-cum-concentration-camp.

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Please don’t misunderstand, though — for all its toeing of the “company line,” the series of events that play out in The Sacrament are definitely frightening in and of themselves, and West, in his role as writer/director, makes sure they all pack a reasonable enough punch. But you’d have to have been living under a rock for most of your life to not know how this is all going to end. Hell, even if you want a basic re-hashing of the standard media line vis a vis Jonestown — which is all this flick really amounts to at the end of the day — the PBS Frontline special Jonestown : The Life And Death Of Peoples Temple from a few years back is much better, and frankly a whole lot scarier.

Does that mean The Sacrament isn’t worth checking out? I wouldn’t go so far as to say that — especially now that it’s streaming on Netflix and you can see it for free (I’d been eagerly awaiting its debut on there and watched it the day it came out —  it’s also, of course, available on DVD and Blu-ray, although I can’t fairly comment on the specifics of those versions). West is still a promising young (ish) horror auteur whose career is well worth following, and while this film doesn’t measure up anywhere near The House Of The Devil or The Innkeepers — hell, I’d even argue that Cabin Fever 2 was better — it’s still got its moments, especially when Jones (as in Gene, not Jim) is on the screen.

Truth be told, though, you can live without it, too. I’m not nearly as sick of “found footage” horror as most of my fellow internet pseudo-critics are, but there are literally dozens of better examples of the genre available on Netflix alone, and for a film supposedly centered on “new journalism,” the fact that West misses the big story in regards to his subject is, frankly, inexcusable.