While documentaries present cults as they are: sometimes terrifying, sometimes not, a good number of fictional films use cults in the context of horror. There is something terrifying to the outsider about the very idea of them - or the idea of being forced to partake in them - that disturbs our notions of individuality. The feeling of otherness which is a staple of horror is multiplied if it's a group instead of one person, especially if that 'other' can be anyone.
That's probably why a lot of horror films use cults as the boogeyman or the antagonist, such as the classic Children of the Corn (1984), or Dario Argento's Suspiria (1977).
Film movements have also used the cult as a plot device. Recently the French New Extremity has the 2008 film Martyrs as an example. Martyrs is not only a brutal and disturbing horror movie, it is also an examination of extreme faith and martyrdom in general, as well as an examination of higher states of consciousness. Its ambiguous ending leaves a lot to speculation, but most importantly it leaves questions on faith to us.
It's about a pair of women who fall victim to a secret society that abducts people, usually young women, and inflict all sorts of bodily torture on them. The first half is conventional horror, but as the second half starts it evolves into something completely different as the remaining captive crosses an invisible line from victim to 'martyr.'
Being from the French New Extremity, it's a difficult watch for the sensitive viewer as it elevates body horror to the maximum. Our hapless protagonists are tortured both physically and psychologically. But the cult perpetrating these actions do so for the sake of achieving something mysterious, perhaps something spiritual without the religious attachments. This comes into the second meaning of the word martyr, that of a witness for whatever state of being these poor souls experience.
One of the stranger horror entries that feature cults is the 1973 cult classic (no pun intended) The Wicker Man, starring English television actor Edward Woodward and horror legend Christopher Lee in one of his favorite roles.While it is definitely a horror movie, its presentation of the material is quite unlike anything we've seen.
Based on an English novel entitled Rituals, The Wicker Man is about a police officer (Woodward) who comes to a remote island to investigate the disappearance of a local girl. His curiosity turns to bewilderment as the townspeople all deny the girl ever existed. During his investigation, he witnesses a number of strange practices that make him all the more certain that the townspeople are hiding something.
The Wicker Man contrasts the beliefs of the townspeople with the policeman's own Christian beliefs. He stubbornly holds on to them; in once scene, he makes his way to the local church, which has been abandoned by the townsfolk. He looks at one of the graves and makes a makeshift cross out of two pieces of wood, placing it on top of the gravestone. His stubbornness is only matched by that of the town leader, Lord Summerisle (Lee) who believes that his rituals are the one and only way to make the island prosperous once again.
It contrasts the mundane activities of the islandfolk, building up the tension between the policeman and the townsfolk, and their later actions, culminating with the climax of the film involving the wicker man pictured above. Since then filmmakers have tried unsuccessfully to replicate the film's effects with a hilariously bad 2005 remake starring Nicholas Cage, and a spiritual sequel, The Wicker Tree (2011), directed by Hardy himself and spouting similar concepts as the original.
Film movements have also used the cult as a plot device. Recently the French New Extremity has the 2008 film Martyrs as an example. Martyrs is not only a brutal and disturbing horror movie, it is also an examination of extreme faith and martyrdom in general, as well as an examination of higher states of consciousness. Its ambiguous ending leaves a lot to speculation, but most importantly it leaves questions on faith to us.
It's about a pair of women who fall victim to a secret society that abducts people, usually young women, and inflict all sorts of bodily torture on them. The first half is conventional horror, but as the second half starts it evolves into something completely different as the remaining captive crosses an invisible line from victim to 'martyr.'
Being from the French New Extremity, it's a difficult watch for the sensitive viewer as it elevates body horror to the maximum. Our hapless protagonists are tortured both physically and psychologically. But the cult perpetrating these actions do so for the sake of achieving something mysterious, perhaps something spiritual without the religious attachments. This comes into the second meaning of the word martyr, that of a witness for whatever state of being these poor souls experience.
***
Based on an English novel entitled Rituals, The Wicker Man is about a police officer (Woodward) who comes to a remote island to investigate the disappearance of a local girl. His curiosity turns to bewilderment as the townspeople all deny the girl ever existed. During his investigation, he witnesses a number of strange practices that make him all the more certain that the townspeople are hiding something.
The Wicker Man contrasts the beliefs of the townspeople with the policeman's own Christian beliefs. He stubbornly holds on to them; in once scene, he makes his way to the local church, which has been abandoned by the townsfolk. He looks at one of the graves and makes a makeshift cross out of two pieces of wood, placing it on top of the gravestone. His stubbornness is only matched by that of the town leader, Lord Summerisle (Lee) who believes that his rituals are the one and only way to make the island prosperous once again.
It contrasts the mundane activities of the islandfolk, building up the tension between the policeman and the townsfolk, and their later actions, culminating with the climax of the film involving the wicker man pictured above. Since then filmmakers have tried unsuccessfully to replicate the film's effects with a hilariously bad 2005 remake starring Nicholas Cage, and a spiritual sequel, The Wicker Tree (2011), directed by Hardy himself and spouting similar concepts as the original.
The movie joins other, similar movies in a loosely defined genre of horror and native or folk traditions such as 1971's The Blood on Satan's Claw.
***
Auteurs have used the cult either as symbolism or framing device. Alejandro Jodorowsky's Santa Sangre (1989) is one such surreal experience, with its patron saint being a woman with both arms and legs cut off. Others, like Roman Polanski's Rosemary's Baby (1968) make the cult a background device for horrors far more sinister.
One very notable recent work is Paul Thomas Anderson's 2012 work The Master, which stars Joaquin Phoenix and the late Phillip Seymour Hoffman.
Phoenix turns in a career-defining performance as Freddie Quell, a WWII veteran whose aimless, violent life intersects with that of Lancaster Dodd (Hoffman), the leader of a cult called the Cause. Dodd takes an interest in the man, and aims to change his life for the better.
The cult in The Master is merely a framing device for our main character's journey. Quell is a savage; a man at his basest, most animalistic, level. He exists in complete contrast to Lancaster Dodd, who fancies himself a man standing above all others. But Dodd isn't the true Master of the cult he has created; his wife Peggy (Amy Adams) is the true power behind the man. Together, all three engage in a Freudian battle of Id, Ego and Superego.
Dodd's fascination with Quell may stem from the fact that deep down, both men are pretty much two sides of the same coin. It's just that Dodd yearns for the freedom Quell possesses, a freedom his life can never afford him. On the other hand, Quell shares some similarities to characters from Anderson's previous films. His emotional immaturity, almost irrational loyalty and dogged determination reminds me of Adam Sandler's character in Punch Drunk Love.
The movie sports masterful cinematography. Although Anderson restrains himself in this movie compared to his other films and uses conventional framing techniques, there are some fantastic shots in the film, including one long uninterrupted shot of Quell boarding Dodd's boat that has to be seen to be believed. Anderson takes advantage of the gorgeous 65mm film format, giving the film an uncharacteristic sharpness, and combines that with a shallow depth of field to let the camera focus on his characters and create a strange dreamy look at the same time. How I wish I could have seen this film in a cinema with the right equipment and projector.
The Master's last frame is ambiguous, a coda to a similar scene in the first few moments of the film. In a way, the Master of Quell's life turns out not to be some cult leader or lost love, but Quell himself. Quell finds himself drawn forward by the currents of time, and to an extent his experience with Dodd's cult has enriched him in a way. But the ending is bittersweet; while he may have improved his life, deep down he is still the same person he was at the beginning of the film, and his dream for stability is just that - a dream. His dream may persist, but they are but fragile sandcastles crumbling by the sea.
The last installment of this series will be about non-horror takes on the cult, which includes some award winning films, some lesser known obscurities and a few classics. Stay tuned.
Phoenix turns in a career-defining performance as Freddie Quell, a WWII veteran whose aimless, violent life intersects with that of Lancaster Dodd (Hoffman), the leader of a cult called the Cause. Dodd takes an interest in the man, and aims to change his life for the better.
The cult in The Master is merely a framing device for our main character's journey. Quell is a savage; a man at his basest, most animalistic, level. He exists in complete contrast to Lancaster Dodd, who fancies himself a man standing above all others. But Dodd isn't the true Master of the cult he has created; his wife Peggy (Amy Adams) is the true power behind the man. Together, all three engage in a Freudian battle of Id, Ego and Superego.
Dodd's fascination with Quell may stem from the fact that deep down, both men are pretty much two sides of the same coin. It's just that Dodd yearns for the freedom Quell possesses, a freedom his life can never afford him. On the other hand, Quell shares some similarities to characters from Anderson's previous films. His emotional immaturity, almost irrational loyalty and dogged determination reminds me of Adam Sandler's character in Punch Drunk Love.
The movie sports masterful cinematography. Although Anderson restrains himself in this movie compared to his other films and uses conventional framing techniques, there are some fantastic shots in the film, including one long uninterrupted shot of Quell boarding Dodd's boat that has to be seen to be believed. Anderson takes advantage of the gorgeous 65mm film format, giving the film an uncharacteristic sharpness, and combines that with a shallow depth of field to let the camera focus on his characters and create a strange dreamy look at the same time. How I wish I could have seen this film in a cinema with the right equipment and projector.
The Master's last frame is ambiguous, a coda to a similar scene in the first few moments of the film. In a way, the Master of Quell's life turns out not to be some cult leader or lost love, but Quell himself. Quell finds himself drawn forward by the currents of time, and to an extent his experience with Dodd's cult has enriched him in a way. But the ending is bittersweet; while he may have improved his life, deep down he is still the same person he was at the beginning of the film, and his dream for stability is just that - a dream. His dream may persist, but they are but fragile sandcastles crumbling by the sea.
***
The last installment of this series will be about non-horror takes on the cult, which includes some award winning films, some lesser known obscurities and a few classics. Stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment