Woodshock--Kate and Laura Mulleavy (2017)

Kirsten Dunst stars as the enigmatic Theresa in Kate and Laura Mulleavy's Woodshock (2017)

"What have you done, Theresa?  What have you done?" These ominous words end one of the most beautiful and intriguing trailers I've seen in recent years, for fashion designers' Kate and Laura Mulleavy's debut film Woodshock (2017).  After I saw this trailer, I wanted to see this film in all its experimental, superimpositioned glory with such a desperate longing; yet alas, nothing that wondrously weird and non-mainstream was going to play in a theater anywhere near me.  Then Amazon came to my rescue (as it so often does), streaming it for the pretty pennies of my Prime membership, and giving the film a larger viewership than it might never receive otherwise.  Still, I'm ambivalent about Theresa, this particular "haunted heroine," as the film's ambiguities coupled with its distinctive visual style are indeed gorgeously compelling, but perhaps even too oblique for me--a critic who wholeheartedly embraces style and narrative complexity over clarity and substance.  Nevertheless, I'm still working over this film, turning it over in my mind, days after viewing it.

Theresa must repeatedly face herself, wracked by guilt and grief, in Woodshock

Woodshock follows a grief-stricken Theresa, as she copes with the aftermath of assisting her mother's suicide after a bout with what appears to be an extremely drawn out and painful illness.  (I'm not really spoiling anything here--this plot point is revealed in the trailer and in the film's first 5 minutes).  Gradually, she attempts to get "back to life," and returns to her job at a marijuana dispensary, where she works with the rather unstable Keith (Pilou Asbaek), and doles out dosages to medical marijuana recipients Johnny (Jack Kilmer) and Ed (Steph DuVall).  She also gets her steady beau, woodcutter Nick (Joe Cole), to move in with her, but is apparently haunted by her mother's passing and her role in it, as her relationship with her mother's room and bed suggests.  An accident with some dosed marijuana sends Theresa over the edge, and she spirals into a strange world, a somnambulist stumbling around in her life.  As the film evolves, her guilt and grief seem to propel her toward taking her own life, as she starts to make a series of poor decisions that place her in a mental state distinctly at odds with reality.  Theresa is an excellent unreliable narrator, and the film's horror aspects evolve into a harrowing journey where one tries to discern what actually has happened (as in filmic events), and what's unfolding inside her head--the classic "haunted heroine of horror" paradox.

Shades of Lars Von Trier's Melancholia (2011)

The Mulleavy siblings are mostly known for their fantastic and ethereal designs for fashion house Rodarte, and their visual aesthetic is on hand throughout this mysterious meditation on grief.  I'm still on the fence regarding the symbolic importance of the film's title, or it's gloriously wooded setting, where majestic redwoods seem otherworldly and almost CGI in their ridiculous majesty as they dwarf Theresa when she wanders amongst them in her Rodarte negligee.  The sisters reveal Theresa's inner unraveling through a series of layered superimpositions and shots that move hesitantly through her home, emphasizing the fraught relationship she has to her personal space--even though she seems to sleep/dream walk through every other setting as well.  Woodshock comes across as very heavy-hearted, and when it moves into nightmare territory, the shift is jarring but unsurprising, as Theresa's mental state is always ephemeral and uncertain (and that's not just from the pot she's smoking).

Theresa's relationship to her surroundings is sometimes as one, and sometimes at odds

Unlike, Requiem for a Dream (Darren Aronfsky, 2000), Woodshock's increasingly unsettling visuals do not add up to the ultimate "Just Say No" film, and I felt throughout the film an empathy toward Theresa's suffering and confusion.  When things get bloody, they look pretty gorgeous, but the film's almost non-existent narrative structure at times veers away to other characters and other locations, unnecessarily troubling our identification with Theresa's experiences in order to give viewers some context.  Yet all that context gets tossed aside at film's end, and we are left with not really knowing what the hell actually happened in the film.  "What have you done, Theresa?" seems like a pretty appropriate question, and I'm still not sure.  While I'm a big fan of ambiguity, I was even left with a "huh" after all was said and done.  I still recommend the film, especially if you are an Amazon Prime customer; why not take the film for a spin?  This moody piece is pretty and pretty damn weird, made by two incredibly talented women directors.  The film doesn't neatly fit into the horror genre, but definitely plays enough with its tropes to satisfy those viewers who like their films to take them to dark and gorgeous places.

Fantasia 2017--Replace--Norbert Keil

Rebecca Forsythe's Kira commands every frame in Norbert Keil's Replace (2017)

Norbert Keil's body horror extravaganza Replace is one of the most gorgeous films I have ever seen at Fantasia.  Seriously, every single frame was drenched in color, and the settings are glorious, whether a scene takes place in Kira's grunge chic apartment, a dingy (but colorfully-lit) nightclub, or the harsh, but stylish minimalism of Dr. Crober's office.  Like The Neon Demon, Replace is rife with sumptuous imagery that dazzles the eye, and I loved looking at it.  Wow.  At times the film replicated some of the very best giallos that I've seen, and there's a definite Argento look with a Cronenberg vibe.

Kira is understandably disturbed by her body's rapid decay

That said, the film also maintains some similar themes to Winding-Refn's art horror, as it focuses on Kira Mabon (Rebecca Forsythe), a young beauty who mysteriously develops some nasty skin rash where her body starts to decay at a rapid rate.  As this film is a horror film, we get to experience close-up shots with lots of icky sounds as Kira peels the skin right from her body.  The film purports to be a treatise on aging, as Kira's story is interspersed with her voice-over narration outlining her fear and contempt for the aging process.

The mysterious Dr. Crober (Barbara Crampton) may have answers to what's ailing Kira

She is yet another (white, thin) beauty who wants to remain that way forever, and she turns to the mysteriously calm/mad scientist Dr. Rafaela Crober (Barbara Crampton) for help.  Yet Dr. Crober seems to know more than she's letting on, and Kira's inability to remember what happened last week doesn't help matters.

Kira is forced to kill in order to maintain her haunting loveliness

When Kira's bodily deterioration starts to happen too rapidly, and a skin transplant looks to take too long, Kira takes matters into her own hands, and finds replacements for her skin in a series of rather gory and unfortunate murders.  She has become quite the monster.  Still, when we finally get answers to what's happening, the silliness of the film rises to new heights, even if some of the science that inspires the film is grounded in advancements in stem cell research and insights into the aging process.

Sophia (Lucie Aron) is the gorgeous "girl next door" who suddenly falls for Kira

My biggest problem with this film is that it's couched in a quasi-lesbian romance that makes no sense beyond a certain need for gratuitous shots of gorgeous women kissing each other.  I get the appeal (duh), but do we really need to watch monstrous queer women killers YET AGAIN??  Here's another white guy making a film about women and their monstrous desires, and he makes sure that there are as many topless shots of this implausible couple as possible.  It doesn't help that their scenes are shot in such hazy soft-focus with melodramatic music blasting behind them, as if they share some true love amidst the horror.  A critique on the perils of beauty culture and the relationship between femininity and aging?  Not really.

Still, Fantasia has this amazing ability to persuade me to give a film more consideration after I dismiss it for its flaws, chiefly by virtue of listening to the filmmakers talk about their film and the process of making it.  Just as I whispered something about the filmmakers having been totally wasted writing this doozy, Keil and famous genre stalwart and co-writer Richard Stanley (Hardware, Dust Devil) made a case for their film and its particular charms.  The person who really charmed me was Stanley, in his outback biker get-up, hair flowing, and sharp intelligence in his eyes, as he waxed on about gene therapy, the perils of aging, and the site of memory (is it in our brains or in our D.N.A.)?   Wow, okay.  He also suggested that the film nodded at vampirism, and I can see it, certainly.  He's incredibly smart and articulate, and I would have loved to talk to him for hours about whatever.

Crampton did research at the Buck Institute for aging for the role

Barbara Crampton was also onstage with her characteristic warmth and wit, and she let on that the role of Dr. Crober was originally intended for a male character.  While I'm delighted that she was chosen for the part, and certainly there needs to be more roles for women, I think it might have been better to have that part played by a man.  The Neon Demon's one saving grace was that it really emphasized how horrible men are in relation to women's beauty, and that they were really the driving force behind women killing themselves (and each other) in order to maintain their attraction and desirability. Crampton's role as a cold-hearted, ambitious mad scientist who ruthlessly capitalizes on women's vulnerability and vanity in order to make scientific discoveries does not do women any favors, and just perpetuates the idea that women are bitches who will destroy each other in order to get ahead.  Nice.

Replace is equal parts beautiful and problematic

So, should you see Replace?  Yes, if only to form your own opinion about the film, and also because it is truly gorgeous to look at.  The ending elicited an epic eye roll from me, the twist is beyond silly and undermines any romance that the film presents, but I'm still thinking about the film, and find its comparisons to The Neon Demon to be notable and important.  While its gender politics are a hot mess, this intriguing film is definitely worth a look.