Ya'll Gonna Make Me Lose My Mind. Up in Here. In The Ward

MAX:  Hey! Haven't seen you in a while, Mike.

MIKE:  I was going to say the same thing to you!

MAX:  Where did you get that hospital gown, dude?  You need to tie that part up in the back.

MIKE:  Where did you get yours? You do realize that your gown is on backwards, right?

MAX:  Oh....right.  Thanks for pointing that out.  I've been rather forgetful since I underwent that radical treatment procedure.  Basically what they do is, they lock you in a padded room and make you watch this John Carpenter movie called The Ward on repeat for a week straight.

MIKE:  Really?  That sounds awful.

MAX:  Yeah it was.  So what's your story?

MIKE:  I was getting some.

MAX:  At a mental hospital?

MIKE:  I like crazy bitches.

MAX:  And....scene.

MAX:  The Ward (2010) is a new thriller from the original master of horror, John Carpenter.  Set in a mental hospital during the 1950's, a girl named, Kristen (Amber Heard), with a mysterious and troubling past, is desperate to escape from the women's ward, in fear that there may be a (dead) former patient, who is disposing of the other in-patient ladies, one at a time.  The more Kristen investigates this matter, the more she thinks that all the people around her may be hiding something.

MIKE:  The film’s opening shows promise; the old artist renderings of how the mentally unstable have been treated over the last few hundred years, shattering in slow moving shards across the screen, had an unnerving effect.  Though, arguably, I think the effect would have been more disturbing if the images remained intact and the credits just faded in and out, superimposed on the images.  Then we're watching this girl in a white gown run through the woods, and we see a local sheriff patrol on the hunt for her.  Kristen comes across an abandoned farm house and sets it on fire.  When the police arrive they take her to the mental hospital where she is placed in The Ward.  There the nightmares really begin--or did they?

MAX:  I agree that the opening shows a great deal of promise.  I really enjoyed the illustrated images of the plights that have been visited upon patients over the years at the hands of doctors.  Kind of reminded me of that time you and I wandered into the Scientologist run "Psychiatry Museum of Death" in Los Angeles.  While that museum was certainly heavy handed, to say the least, it can't be denied that psychiatry has had its share of abuses in history, which can make for chilling horror stories.  That being said, as much as the opening credits in this flick are foreboding, I would have to liken them to Dario Argento's Mother of Tears, where we are promised some serious demonic stuff (i.e. the illustrations of Hieronymus Bosch) and instead are given about two hours of not demonic crap.  In the case of The Ward, lets look at the first sequence you mentioned, where we are curiously observing Kristen in her white gown and wondering what she's going to do.  After a while she burns down a farm house and we realize that the men in white coats are coming to take her away (Ha-ha.)  Not particularly stirring, but we can assume that there's going to be a slow build.  Once inside the hospital, Kristen experiences flash backs that super obviously correlate to the farm house.  It's pretty safe to assume from the get-go that she was held captive there and molested and etc. etc.  The action within the hospital, which basically lasts for the duration of the film, is extremely monotonous, filled with bad dialogue and worse performances, offering very little of the ominous psychiatric practices alluded to in the opening credits. 

MIKE:  That's what I wanted: lot's more of those out-dated methodologies, and less cute actresses doing bad acting.  I won't say that the whole thing was terrible, I mean, a couple of the girls shine dimly as believable mental patients, and the nurse and doctor were good, but as a whole (especially when concerning the lead, Amber Heard) the acting is flat and unmoving.  I like stories that deal with the darker side of psychology, even when it's a bit fictitious (taking things with a grain of salt like we did with that Scientology museum), and you know how much I love a good ghost story, so you would think that if you mixed those to elements together you'd get a damn awesome horror flick.  Sadly, what you get is tasteless fluff. Did I mention that the movie is directed by one of my favorite horror directors, John Carpenter?  It's like getting a famous chef to do catering for your party, and what he serves for appetizers are corn chips and cheese whiz sauce.  So, disappointing.  Don't hate me Mr. Carpenter!

MAX:  Yes.  The famous chef with the cheese whiz appetizers is a good metaphor to use in this case.  It's awkward to criticize Carpenter, as he has made so many fantastic films, but the unfortunate truth is that this movie was a doozie.  I think even the very setting of a mental hospital allows for all kinds of interesting scenes in dark corridors, with long creepy hallways and strange voices in the shadows (think Session 9, which is sooo much scarier than this).  Alternately, in The Ward, all we see for the most part are bright lit shots of girls trying to act mental and scared at the same time.  Nothing really happens too much in this movie, and when it does, it's almost irrelevant, because so much of the "suspense build up" time has been spent on group therapy couches. The story is one part Girl Interrupted and one part Shutter Island with a little homage to Suspiria here and there.  In my opinion, this movie didn't know quite what it wanted to be, which is why in the end it doesn't really work out.  Personally, I didn't much care for the performances from the hospital staff.  I found the orderly to be very confusing, playing it alternately between somewhat sympathetic and pervy creep.  The nurse was obviously a total authoritarian, but not evil enough in her actions to make it convincing (that may have actually been more of a problem with the script).  Then there is the doctor, who once again, could be creepy, or just an unorthodox shrink who is super-committed to his practice.  Some of these questions I had about the hospital staff were answered to a degree in the conclusion of the film.  Although I'm not sure I really cared about anyone in the film by the time that came along.  Also, the biggest question I have is why the 1950s?  I wasn't really clear why this needed to be a period piece.

MIKE:  Well, I would like to assume that mental hospitals back then were very unpleasant places--historically they still were up through the 80's.  But the movie fails to deliver on those stories, and really fails to show those goods in action.  I mean, there was the scene with the shock treatment (two scenes really), and those were all right, but I wanted more of that abuse and negligence that these places had infamously become.  I would like to say that on the plus side of things the special effects were done well.  John Carpenter was never the overtly gory type of director, and I thought the make-up for the dead girl haunting the ward was really good.  Holy shit, did I love seeing her flesh crawl.

MAX:  Yes, you are correct.  I suppose that was the whole point.  The past brutalities of psychiatry, which as we've both established, weren't really delivered in entirety.  I didn't find the special effects to be particularly memorable, myself.  While I agree that Carpenter has never needed to rely on gore to get a good scare on, I felt like the death scenes were sort of half-assed and executed (so to speak) without too much thought.  The dead girl's face, when seen up close, did not impress me too much.  By the time her and Kristen are wrestling with each other she has just ceased to be scary.  Of course we understand the significance of the wrestling in the context of the film, but seriously, isn’t there some other way to do that?  As much as I love me some wrestling, I tend to think it's better left outside of horror movies.  Another disastrous occurrence like this was the werewolf wrestling match between Anthony Hopkins and Benicio Del Toro in The Wolfman remake.  I think wrestling between horror movie characters is an automatic suspense killer.  As one can probably gather from this rant, I was also not a big fan of Freddy vs. Jason, although I'd probably rather watch that than The Ward.

MIKE:  I hated Freddy Vs. Jason.  Seriously, nothing bored me more than that snoozer.

MIKE(continued):  Anyway, (SPOILER ALERT) I really enjoyed the way the needle through the eye was shot.  It wasn’t nearly as suspensful as that one scene in Dead and Buried (such an amazing movie), but the effects shot was still good.  I will agree that I am not really a big fan of monsters battling it out, unless it's a Gozilla flick.  Think back to those early Universal--and non-Universal movies--that thought it would be a great idea to watch Dracula battle the Wolf Man, or the Frankenstein monster, or the Lagoon Creature; those films are laughable at best, and just plain boring at their worst.  I'm not even a fan of the Underworld series.  I love werewolves, but pitting them against vampires, as though this feud has been going on for centuries, is tiresome and old. 

MAX:  EPIC SUB-TANGEANT ALERT.  There are some exceptions to the “battling it out” rule.  Godzilla and Mothra would be the most noteable, I agree.  Also, basically anything with the Universal Monsters was permissible.  I happen to kind of like the Underworld movies—it is a shameful, dirty secret of mine.  I think they are a whole lot of fun, but I do not consider them to be horror movies, basically on account of the fact that it is an action/versus sort of set up.  I thought Underworld Rise of the Lychens was particularly good.  It's the Braveheart of Werewolf Movies.  Anyway....tying back into The Ward, I thought the bit with the eye was alright, but not so much in the grand tradition of other eye torture sequences (Like Argento's Opera, for example.)  I'm not denying that there are worse horror movies out there than this one, but for a Carpenter flick, I think this ranks on the low end of what he's done.  I know that some of his fans feel that the criticisms of this film have been too harsh, but I would disagree.  I love watching Carpenter movies.  I keep The Fog on a constant rotation in my house.  Unfortunately, The Ward is the sort of film I wouldn't even watch a second time, not to mention, I would not want to screen it multiple times.  It's basically pretty forgettable.

MIKE:  This goes up there with Ghosts of Mars as one of Carpenter's worst movies.  You're right, I won't be adding this to my collection anytime soon (I love Carpenter films, people, but I refuse to buy Ghosts of Mars or The Ward).  I guess what I wanted more than anything, was for The Ward to be like The Fog or In the Mouth of Madness—you know, something that scared you and kept you on the edge of your seat.

MIKE:  I guess this leads to our conclusion.  The Ward is missing what I have always loved about Carpenter Films--suspense.  Instead he dishes up sloppy, cold second helpings of tired Twilight Zone-ish tricks (and I LOVE The Twilight Zone), supported doldrums acting that leaves a nasty aftertaste.  If you've never seen ANY of the movies that Max and I have listed that are similar to this one, then you just might enjoy this film.  But, like us, if you have seen all of those movies, then just stay clear of this buffet table.  I wish I could give this movie one nub up, but that would be a disservice to all of our readers.  Two Bloody Nubs down.

MAX:  I agree.  It was bad.  Two Bloody Nubs down.  I'd rather undergo shock treatment.  Or watch Frogs.

Tidings of Voodoo and Joy!

MAX:  Psst...hey, Mike.  Come look at this movie I found in my stocking.

MIKE:  *GASP*  No...way!  Uh...what is it?   I can't tell with all of that yellow dust on it. 

MAX:  Yeah me neither.  Hold on maybe if I blow the yellow dust off of it, we can read the title. *BLOWS DUST IN MIKE'S FACE * 

MIKE:  *COUGH* *COUGH* *COUGH*

MIKE:  Uh....whu...? 

MAX:  Oh man, what's up dude.  You are like totally passing out on me here. 

MIKE:  Help...some...plea....hel...

MAX:  Uhh..Mike?

MAX:  Mike? Damn. I think he's dead. I guess I'll watch the movie by myself.

MAX:  The Serpent and The Rainbow (1988) is an oft-forgotten supernatural horror thriller from director Wes Craven (Scream, Nightmare on Elm St.) which takes place primarily in Haiti.  The movie is based on a book of the same name by Wade Davis, who conducted a lot of research into the process of zombification, or the 'zombie powder' as it was used by practitioners of voodoo.  In the film, Bill Pullman plays Dennis Alan, a medical researcher, who, like Davis the author, is visiting the war-ravaged nation of Haiti to research this strange phenomenon.  Alan hopes to use his findings for the advancement of western medicine, but in order to find the answers to the secrets he craves, he is forced to confront Dargent Peytraud (Zakes Mokae) the feared chief of secret police, and also Haiti's foremost black magician.  While as I mentioned, this film does deal with the issue of zombification, this is not a zombie movie per say, in that the zombies are not literally dead people.  Rather, what the zombie drug seems to do is put the unsuspecting victim into a death like trance in which he or she can be rendered a mental slave.  There are shades of the old Roger Corman flick The Premature Burial in this movie, in that the universal fear of being buried alive is addressed.  This is also, in my opinion, one of the best horror films out there that deals with voodoo, in that it explores (with some sincerity) the range of beliefs and practices within this mysterious and often misunderstood religion.  While this is a Hollywood movie and a lot of the voodoo element is, of course, mere sensationalism, I would still contend that Craven treated the subject matter with a level of seriousness, and thus created a suspenseful and eerie movie.  Thoughts Mike?

MIKE:  I thought Craven's take on this movie treated the Voodoo with as much seriousness as he could and still please the Hollywood execs.  You're correct to say that this is not your typical zombie movie, and quite frankly, this is the kind of zombie film that people should watch--there's more to life than the shit pile of Romero-esque zombie rip-offs that every hack horror writer and filmmaker feels entitled to recreate (seriously, what ORIGINAL zombie stories have come out since Romero's Dawn of the Dead?).  Hell, even Romero has tiresomely sullied his own creation from being something to fear, to simple comedic relief.  When I was a kid I was scared of zombies, but now I fear that people will keep making shitty zombie movies.  The Serpent and the Rainbow takes a realistic approach to a religious practice that, to this very day, still goes on.  THAT is scary as shit.  It's this element of being buried alive, and the psychological damage that it causes (which allows the resurrecting Voodoo doctor to trick his captives into thinking he controls their very souls) that eats away at the viewer while watching this movie.  This is one of those films where the concept is more terrifying than just a simple monster movie.  I love my monsters, but sometimes I want something fresh, something thought provoking, and I feel that Carven's serious take on The Serpent and the Rainbow is exactly what the--witchdoctor--ordered.  People should read up on the actual cases documented on the real-life zombification practiced in the voodoo culture. 

MAX:  Yeah this is an excellent point.  I wasn't necessarily going to go all the way with this, but since you've opened the door we might as well.  This zombie craze in horror culture (and our current pop culture at large) has just completely worn itself out.  For instance, do we really need a book like "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies"?  Ok, it's cute and all, but in a way I think that's the problem.  Zombies have gotten too trendy and too cute.  They are not the literal walking dead anymore, they are The Walking Dead TV franchise.  Also, as much as I respect George Romero, I really don't care for any of his recent output.  He has "sullied his own creation" as you've said, and I think many people would agree. Basically, when you take zombies and make them into a cultural mascot the way we have, they completely cease to be scary.  The thing that IS scary about a movie like The Serpent and the Rainbow is that there is this correlation between human beings and zombies.  If we think about the root of "zombie paranoia", "zombie apocalypse", or whatever you want to call it, the idea that frightens us is that any single one of us could turn into one of these things at any time.  In the world of The Serpent and the Rainbow, there are voodoo practitioners who can actually force this morbid condition upon a person by blowing powder in his or her face.  While the psychological implication of this may not be as shocking as your typical zombie dismemberment, I think a brief meditation on what it would feel like to be buried alive is much scarier, indeed. 

MIKE:  Watching Dennis Alan (Bill Pullman) stumbling down this dark, spiraling nightmare of ancient practices battling against his firm modernistic belief that science is reality and everything else is fanciful hocus-pocus, is what really captivated me and kept me wanting to see more of this relatively unknown world (I say relatively, because you can discover a lot when you read a book on the subject...NOT WIKIPEDIA!!!!).  Though, some people might find Pullman's character a bit one dimensional in his firm beliefs, I think, if you really took a look in a mirror, we are all stuck in our own beliefs/disbeliefs to a degree, and thusly can connect to Pullman's character.  To be fair, this movie is more psychological than actual supernatural, and Dennis Alan takes or is given various mind-altering substances that have him and us questioning the validity of the visions he is seeing.  What eventually sets Alan and us on edge are the striking reality in which the nightmares manifest themselves.

MAX:  Another great point.  A lot of what would be considered "supernatural" in this film can actually be attributed to mind-altering substances.  I don't necessarily want to admit to having smoked weed in the balcony, but if any of our readers were looking for a good stoner horror flick, you needn't look any further, in my opinion.  Basically, Alan is a character constantly questioning his own beliefs and perceptions, and as his living nightmare in Haiti deepens, he can't tell if he's dreaming or not.  Neither can the viewer, either, and this makes for quite an exciting experience.  What I like about this film in particular is that from the very get go, there is always some crazy, hallucinatory stuff going on, and that never really dissipates at any point of the film.  The Serpent and the Rainbow doesn't really have a "slow point" in my opinion, and that's rare in a film.  The outrageous visuals and scenarios just keep flying at you until the very end. 

MIKE:  I think I will disagree with you about there not being any slow points in the film.  I liked Cathy Tyson as Marielle Duchamp, but she ultimately slowed scenes down to a point where I was almost dozing off (maybe someone blew zombie powder in my face and I merely fell into a deep, sedated trance).  Duchamp is Alan's counterbalance-- she is his ground in both worlds (she's a doctor of science, yet continues to practice voodoo).  However, their romantic scenes kind of drag, and anytime Alan is not being pursued by the Hatian military or having weird visions, is a bit boring, in my opinion.  I will say that the locations and some of the other supporting characters are very interesting, and I think it's Wes Craven's directing that makes this film suffer in the way that it does.  Nightmare on Elm St. is probably Craven's best film, and even that film suffers from slow points and characters that don't really do anything.

MAX:  I agree that the moments between Marielle Duchamp and Dr. Alan are not the most dynamic, but I guess I still feel that there aren't any total dull points.  This may be somewhat of a personal bias though as this was shot (I assume) on location in Haiti, and I have a fascination with that country, as well as the history of voodoo.  Nightmare on Elm St., while certainly Craven's best, is filled with moments that drag, you are absolutely right about that.  I also think this is an issue in most of his other noted efforts like The Hills Have Eyes and Last House on the Left.  For me, I think this film provides a continual collage of imagery that I just completely loose myself in.  The success is probably less in Craven's direction and more in the cinematography. 

MAX (CONTINUED):  While on the subject of amazing Wes Craven films, let’s also not forget to mention Dracula 2000.  I am so embarrassed for that movie.  It just embarrasses me.

MIKE:  The cinematography is beautiful.  I won't even try to argue otherwise, and you're right, the history of the culture (what of it is factual in the film) and the setting are also points of interest for me (as you know, I do love reading up on various religions, the occult, and the like).  But, I still found myself dozing here and there at parts. 

MIKE (CONTINUED):  By the way, Craven only PRODUCED Dracula 2000.  If you want to be embarrassed about something he made, let's talk about that Eddie Murphy piece of dog crap, A Vampire in Brooklyn.

MAX:  Oh man, I forgot that he directed that.  A Vampire in Brooklyn is weak.  Still better than Frogs though. 

MIKE:  Bastard

MAX:  In terms of performance highlights, I'd like to call attention to two people in particular. I think Zakes Mokae was really fantastic in his part as the chief of secret police.  He is very convincing as an evil voodoo wielding despot, and his delivery of the line, "I want to hear you scream," will live with infamy in my mind forever.  Also, this is somewhat of a lesser known fact that I just stumbled upon, but the voices of the dead which echo throughout this movie were actually recorded by none other than Diamanda Galas, a fantastic singer/performance artist whose voice is rather frightening to say the least. 

MIKE:  Zakes Mokae was great in his role, though, at times I felt like he should have had more of a presence in the film.  But, to contradict myself, I guess that's what makes him so creepy, because you see him, you sort of know something about him, but he's really a mystery.  I enjoyed Bill Pullman's part in the movie--he plays those tripped out scenes convincingly.  I always get bothered by that one scene where he thinks he's in a coffin and the coffin begins to fill with blood.  I'm almost screaming along with him.

MAX:  Absolutely.  I think that is easily my favorite scene.  Totally memorable and one of my favorite nightmare sequences in a horror movie, period.  In fact, where Craven is concerned, I would say that scene is scarier than quite a number of Freddy dreams I can think of. 

MIKE:  Well, I think being pulled into your bed and gutted open is pretty damn scary.  When I think about that scene for too long I am more likely to sleep on the couch than my own bed.

MAX:  Are you referring to the scene when Johnny Depp is pulled into the bed and Freddy turns him into a blender of blood? I always found that scene to be more cartoony than scary.  Freddy's first kill, however, Linda--where he drags her along the ceiling--that is scary.  Can't trump that one. 

MIKE:  Both of those scenes freak me out.  I think that's why Nightmare on Elm St. is Wes Craven's best work: it will stick with you no matter how old you get--you never forget the first time seeing it.

MIKE:  Anyways, that being said, I think it's time to wrap this review up (we're reviewing The Serpent and the Rainbow, and not Nightmare on Elm St.).  The Serpent and the Rainbow is a good psychological nightmare that has just enough supernatural elements in it for those who crave them.  If you're looking for something smart, scary, and you love zombies but are looking for a reprieve from there-hashed pop crap that's out there, then you need to pick up this movie right away.  I give The Serpent and the Rainbow two Bloody Nubs up!

MAX:  Agreed.  The Serpent and the Rainbow is a good departure from a lot of standard conventions within the horror genre at large.  At the same time, it is still very much a horror movie, so it's great for those of you who may be looking to mix it up a bit.  Also, if you find you still can't get your fix for the zombie poison after watching this film, be sure to pick up the actual book.  It digs even deeper into the grave secrets of Haitain voodoo and zombie-making, but this movie is one hell of a jumping off point!  2 Bloody Nubs, indeed.

Searching for the Devil?

MIKE:  Hey, Max.  Do you know a guy named Luis Cypher?

MAX:  Luis Cypher? Hmm...not sure, but that seems to ring a bell.  Why do you ask?

MIKE:  I ran into him on my way to the theater.  He said that I "looked familiar," and then he mentioned you by name. You sure you don't know him?

MAX:  I'm not sure.  I guess it's possible that I could have met him at a gathering for the Order of the Silver Serpent when I was in Europe reading from the Book of the Nine Gates...but otherwise....yeah, I'm not too sure.

MIKE:  You have any sort of insurmountable debt that you might not be telling me?

MAX:  No. But I do have these weird dreams with whirring industrial fans and an apartment drenched in blood.

MIKE:  That doesn't make any sense.  He said something about being a debt collector, but you know me and debt collectors: I just ignore them and walk away.

MAX:  Gosh, Mike.  You are such a chicken.  You know I have a thing about chickens...

MIKE:  We don't need to go down that Pink Flamingo lined road.

MAX:  Ugh. Sick. Roll the films...

MAX:  This evening, we screamers from the balcony, are bringing you a comparative review of two films.  Roman Polanski's The Ninth Gate (1999) and Alan Parker's Angel Heart (1987) are both neo-noir movies, and while they were made over ten years apart, they both have a striking similarity in that they involve a classic cinematic antagonist, The Devil.  While these two films can be considered detective stories, there is a supernatural horror element attached to both that ultimately led these to be classified as such.  Perhaps it's for that reason that neither film ever really caught on with audiences.  While The Ninth Gate is slowly building a cult following, it's generally remembered as a late 90's box office flop, which features the much loved Johnny Depp in a leading role.  Similarly, while Angel Heart stars Mickey Rourke (in his more handsome years), Robert DeNiro (as the Lord of Darkness himself) and the beautiful Lisa Bonet, it is mostly known solely to it's absolutely devoted cult following, who continually sought the movie in video stores over the years and ultimately prompted it's release on DVD.  In The Ninth Gate, Johnny Depp plays a rare book dealer named Dean Corso who is commissioned by sinister millionaire Boris Balkan (Frank Langella) to authenticate his copy of The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows, a book that was rumored to have been written in collaboration with Satan.  Angel Heart begins with a similar premise when private detective Harold Angel (Mickey Rourke) is approached by a mysterious gentleman named Luis Cypher (Just sound it out.  That's Robert DeNiro's part). He is commissioned by Cypher to search for Johnny Favorite, a famous crooner gone missing with whom Cypher claims he needs to settle an account.  In both movies, the investigations lead to faraway places that the hard-boiled detectives would have never expected.  As they search, both Corso and Angel find themselves increasingly drawn into a dark web of occultism and murder, from which they may not be able to emerge unscathed.

MIKE:  These films seem to go hand in hand with some of the literary horror fiction that I have been reading lately: there is this theme of going down the rabbit hole, and the further you twist along the dark and crooked path the more engrossed one becomes in the Devil's will.  Both Angel Heart and The Ninth Gate are tales, on the surface, about men seeking out the Prince of Darkness, but really it's the Devil who has been seeking them out.  That is a concept both awesome and terrifying, to me, and all the reason why I really enjoy both of these movies. 

MAX:  l agree.  There is a correlation here between detective and occult stories, in that the answer to the mystery (or solution to the hidden/magical equation) is right in front us, if we only care to look.  In Corso's case, he is a cynical non-believer whose only belief is in wealth and the pursuit thereof. Once he embarks on his journey for Balkan and encounters the nameless blonde femme fatale (otherwise known as 'the girl' portrayed by Emmanuel Seigner), he slowly realizes that there are larger forces at work, and that 'the girl' may in fact be more than she appears to be; where before his goal was purely monetary, Corso starts to crave the secrets, which are promised to the individual who can open the ninth gate.  Where Angel is concerned, his decision to work for the crude and wicked Cypher is equally based in money.  In fact, after he discovers the first murder, he nearly backs out, though he is swayed with an offer of $5,000.  What eventually draws Angel deeper into the "rabbit hole" as you said, are the continual murders of all the people he interrogates, and the set of coincidences, which seem to point to him as a prime suspect.  (Actually now that I think of it, this conflict is present for Corso in The Ninth Gate, as well).  Angel needs to get to the bottom of this Favorite guy's disappearance, so he can clear his own name, and convince himself that he is not actually involved in Cypher and Favorite's affairs.

MIKE:  I felt Corso was more drawn in by his curiosity of the unknown element, and not by the powers promised in the book.  He is, like you said, an unbeliever who is only on this expedition for the pay check.  I think a contradiction between Angel and Corso is the sympathy, or lack thereof, for the victims (usually someone either character has recently made acquaintances with).  Angel, though driven by money to carry on (must be noted that $5,000 dollars in the early 1950's was a considerable sum), feels sorrow for the people who keep dying around him.  It's not just that he could be linked to the murders, but a genuine they-didn't-deserve-this approach is what he seems to have.  Corso, on the other hand, is put off by the deaths of those he queries, and is more grossed out than remorseful for their...untimely demise.  I do enjoy that both of these stories follow a relatively similar line of storytelling, and that, amongst other similarities, they both start off in New York.  Why is New York the start of so many paths that lead to damnation? 

MAX:  You have a good point in that Corso and Angel are very different characters.  While both of them engage in "dishonorable" professions, Corso has no compassion for others, and is one of those individuals who would, in Balkan's words, "put the wind up Julius Ceasar." A "thoroughly unscrupulous" back-stabber, Corso is already of the Devil's party, without even knowing it.  While I agree that it may be the unknown element that draws Corso in (the tagline of The Ninth Gate is "leave the unknown alone"), I think there is a definite point in the film where he is absolutely convinced by the book's power and begins to recognize his own destiny in relation to it.  In Angel's case, because he is not a very corrupt person per-say, he is actually battling against his fate or destiny.  Since beginning the investigation for Cypher, Angel has dream-like flashbacks of terrifying ritual violence, which seem to indicate that he, himself could be somehow involved in the case.  While Angel does not want to believe this, he has a commitment to figuring out the truth which supersedes his own discomfort.  In both cases, these men are racing willingly into the fires of Hell, though with notably different intentions.  New York is a great starting point for both of these films, as it is often known as a "Babylon" of sin and vice.  The shadowy noir elements present in all the cities in which these movies take place really compliment the growing sense of darkness and dread.  Where Angel Heart is concerned, Alan Parker commented that he chose to move the story to New Orleans because he needed Angel to be somewhere hotter and thus "closer to Hell".  In The Ninth Gate, Corso's travels take him to Portugal, Paris, and ultimately the South of France.  In each place, he encounters affluence and grand scale facades, where corruption and true evil are bubbling beneath the surface.  In my opinion, this is the stuff that good detective (and horror) stories are often made of.

MIKE:  I agree.  When you read any Raymond Chandler story, Marlow, the protagonist, is caught in a murky world where everyone, and I quite mean everyone, has something brewing under the surface.  That's what I think really makes Angel Heart and The Ninth Gate neo-noir films that stand on two firm feet in both the classic noir sense and the classic Devil cautionary horror tale.  Characters, location, atmosphere, and the symbolisms used throughout both films make these classics in a unique genre blend all on their own.  I would say that my only qualm with both movies is that the outcome, or ending, for the films seem a bit obvious if you pay attention to the content: Cypher is sending Angel out to look for a man he claims to have a "contract" with, and then comments to Angel, "We've met before, haven't we?"  To which Angel denies having ever met Mr. Cypher.  Also, in Corso's case, he's hunting down the scattered pages that Lucifer has written, while being followed by an "Angelic?" woman bent on making sure that he does find all of the missing pieces.  She flies briefly, The Girl, as she is titled, but she does fly and not once does Corso ever acknowledge this other than referring to her as his "Guardian Angel."  "If you say so," is her clever reply (might I remind some of you out there that Lucifer is a Fallen Angel).  There are also several images in The Ninth Gate that tie Corso to certain images in certain books (3 in all) that he is tracking down.  A lack of true mystery is missing from these movies, in my opinion, but Angel Heart and The Ninth Gate do a great job of pacing the suspense and action to keep the viewer enthralled.

MAX:  I would hesitantly agree that there is a "lack of true mystery" in these two films.  But while it may not be hard to identify the "Lucifer" figure in these stories, I'm not sure that the outcome of either film would be completely obvious upon a first viewing.  At least it wasn't for me, in either case.  Nonetheless, I think a lot of noir films old and new take liberties where the viewer's "willful ignorance" is concerned.  There are a large number of examples in which the wealthy employer has an obvious ulterior motive and in the case of the femme fatale, well, we always know what's up her sleeve.  I'll concede that the flight of 'the girl' was non-subtle and perhaps not needed.  The somewhat disturbing sex scene that occurs between her and Corso outside of Puivert Castle at the conclusion of the film is enough to suggest her true identity.  On the subject of sex scenes, I know that you had a number of thoughts regarding the infamous one that takes place between Mickey Rourke and Lisa Bonet in Angel Heart, is that right?  Yet another aspect I hadn't thought about before: both of these films feature a very bizarre sex scene. 

MIKE:  Well, I'm just saying that's MY qualm with the films, but that in no way takes away from the suspense these two movies use to get to their end points.  Again, I love these films.  The sex scenes...I don't even know where to begin about that.  I think The Ninth Gate sex scene at the end of the film is the hottest of the two; The Girl, played by Emmanuelle Seigner, is a total babe, and any excuse to see her boobs bouncing is a good excuse, even though her eyes seem to be ablaze with a supernatural glow, while a castle burns in the back ground.  It's creepy because you know the image that it represents in the book, but still rather hot to watch.  The sex scene in Angel Heart, on the other hand, is very disturbing and full of nightmarish images of blood and gore.  I should point out that this was Lisa Bonet's first "grown-up" movie she did after her time on "The Cosby Show," and "A Different World."  As hot as she looks in this movie (I had a bit of a crush on her as a kid) it's marred by the grotesque clips that accompany her sex scene with Rourke.  It was quite controversial back in the day, because Bonet was such a sweet, innocent girl on "The Cosby Show."  We all gotta grow-up sometime. 

MAX:  Yes, from what I read in Roger Ebert's review, it seems like the blood drenched sex scene between Rourke and Bonet (and the controversy that caused with the MPAA) seemed to overshadow the film itself.  That is unfortunate, since as Ebert pointed out, the tedious blood really was necessary for the scene, given that it was a direct reference to the voodoo/satanic ritual, which is central to the outcome of the film.  Parker loaded Angel Heart full of symbolism to illustrate various points.  There are chickens and eggs, ominously spinning industrial fans, the sound of a beating heart, and a slow descending gated elevator, which appears to be making its way to the abyss.  Similarly, in The Ninth Gate, Polanski did the very same thing.  As I believe you mentioned all the illustrations in the book of the Nine Gates manifest themselves in the actual scenes of the film:  There's 'the girl', the fearsome dog, and the man hanging upside down from one leg (Corso's friend Bernie is murdered in this disturbing fashion).  While both of these films follow the formula of the private investigator story, they are also unmistakably nightmarish.  Whether it's Deniro's glowing eyes as Luis Cyphre, or the way in which 'the girl' Emmanuel Seigner's face seems to demonically contort, there are certain points that are more supernatural than literal.  "The suspense" you mention that these two movies use to get to their "end point", often borders on the realm of surrealism, and I think that is an important distinction between these films and others in the neo-noir genre. 

MIKE:  Both Angel and Corso are atheist (possibly once church goes, but both vocally express their contempt of religion), and I think it's this character trait that allows the directors to take surreal approach in revealing the dark truth.  Cypher, in Angel Heart, makes the statement that, "They say there's enough religion in the world to make men hate each other, but not enough to make them love," which I think is something that translates well for both films.  Corso and Angel both doubt the existence of the Devil, yet both are sought by him.  One would have to speculate that if these two characters had erred on the side of caution, to have a little more religion (maybe just a better understanding of the whole mythology of it) then they might have been on their toes and more astute to what was happening.  I would argue though, that The Ninth Gate doesn't quite make it seem like a bad idea to allow the Devil to show you the way.  Okay, granted there is no REAL explanation to what happens after you've opened the ninth gate other than  Balkan's ideological philosophy that the you gain all the powers that the Devil has (why anyone would EVER think that the Devil would actually grant them powers is beyond me, but people just aren't that bright.  He was banned from Heaven because he hates mankind, you idiots!).  Point being, I think surrealism is needed in a situation where the main character doubts the existence of supernatural forces and is thrust into a world where the Devil is very much real.

MAX:  Agreed.  The main idea between these two mysteries is that there are forces greater than either of the protagonists ever thought possible in their stark, atheistic (and classically film noir) mindset.  In the case of Corso and The Ninth Gate, you are absolutely right in your assessment that allowing the Devil to show you the way is looked at in a more positive light.  While Balkan's attempt to gain satanic powers ends in a flaming inferno, we are led to believe at the conclusion of the film that Corso will be granted at least a closer look at whatever secrets the book is said to reveal.  In a sense, this is what frustrates me so much about The Ninth Gate, because I really want to know what happens once Corso is finally granted access to the kingdom of shadows.  On the other hand, no matter what kind of explanation Polanski could have provided for what lies beyond the ninth gate, audiences would have been inevitably disappointed.  The decision to leave the ending as a supernatural cliffhanger was actually very wise.  It leaves me completely curious every time (and makes me want to find the key to the ninth gate myself.)  On the other hand, in Angel Heart, I think we are presented with an opposite point of view.  Harold Angel has done nothing to seek the Devil's power.  That was all Johnny Favorite's doing.  Because of Favorite's bad decisions, Angel is ultimately the one in the end who is forced to suffer.  The notion of Angel Heart is particularly eerie I think, because it operates under the assumption that the Devil can come to collect your soul, even if you never offered him your soul in the first place.

MIKE:  Well, Angel's soul is really long since gone if you think about it.  Cypher is there to collect Johnny's soul--a soul that has been living in the shadow of a dead man's memories.  The misconception is that Angel is suffering for Johnny's sins.  Angel is not there, and only a troubled, confused Johnny remains.  Cypher even explains this near the end.  Which, I guess, leads me to talk about my favorite characters in both of these movies: Angel, rather the memory of him, is one of my favorite gumshoes to come around.  He comes across like a loveable, foul mouthed older brother; the kind of brother you like seeing at family gatherings even though the rest of the relatives don't care for his unpleasant since of humor.  He's a great noir character that I think could have thrived in the pulps of the 40's (bearing cleaning up the "shits," and "fucks," from his language, of course).  In The Ninth Gate, Boris Balkan (played by the brilliant Frank Langellla) is one of the creepiest villains we've come across in our vast movie watching.  Langella strikes me as a Christopher Lee type of actor (both played Dracula at one point), though his career doesn't quite reflect that--he did, however, play Skeletor in Masters of the Universe.  Balkan, as a character, is a poison soaked, black silk sheet that wraps around you just as gentle as can be, while slowly killing you in your quiet slumber.  In a way, Balkan reminds me of Vincent Price's character in The Masque of the Red Death, Prince Prospero: both were cunning, powerful men who murdered without hesitation, and assumed that the Devil was their master, though, in a way, they also seemed to fall under the impression that they could also master the Devil; they both thought that Satan would protect them--after all, they were willing, obedient servants; though they thought they were astute in the "dark ways" of their master, both succumb to the follies of those who THINK they have a complete understanding on anything, and die for their ignorance.

MAX:  Thanks for clarification on the point of Angel and Favorite.  For some reason, even though I understand the difference, I guess I still forget that it's Favorite we've been observing throughout the entire film, not Angel, whose soul was dispatched when Johnny cut out his heart.  I guess it's the point about amnesia which can be confusing, but as you observed, DeNiro aka Cypher explains it pretty clearly.  Speaking of the Devil (sorry couldn't resist) I really like DeNiro in the role of Cypher.  I think DeNiro's naturally sly and sarcastic demeanor really bring a lot to this part.  He plays it so nonchalant; it's not hard for me to believe that he is who he says he is.  There's also the rumor that DeNiro was actually channeling Martin Scorsese for this role, which is entirely possible, given that he appears to look a lot like Scorsese did during his cameo in Taxi Driver.  Where The Ninth Gate is concerned, I also really enjoy Langella in the part of Balkan.  Langella is definitely a natural (like Christopher Lee) when it comes to portraying affluent, charismatic villains.  He more recently brought a lot of Balkan/Dracula to the role of Richard Nixon in Frost Nixon which I highly recommend.  Additionally, this may seem rather obvious, but I really enjoy Johnny Depp in the role of Corso.  I think he succeeds in taking a character who is basically despicable and over the course of the movie, gets the audience to root him.  Lena Olin is another actor in The Ninth Gate who was perfectly cast.  She is really vicious as Liana Telfer, the Satanist/gold digger, and brings a lot of sexuality to that role as well.

MIKE:  It looks like we've wrapped up another session, so, with all of that said and done I give Angel Heart and The Ninth Gate two Bloody Nubs up.  You can't go wrong with their blend of psychological, neo-noir horror: both films serve a hefty portion of suspense and leave you feeling full and satisfied, though, you might have terrifyingly unpleasant ideas about the nature of your soul and what the Devil may, or may not, offer. 

MAX:  I also give Angel Heart and The Ninth Gate two enthusiastic Bloody Nubs up.  Both of these films really bring a fun refreshing angle to the genre of the supernatural thriller (and neo-noir for that matter).  If you are tired of the usual head-spinning Exorcist spin-offs, these are definitely two very unique movies dealing with the subject of the Devil.  Also, if you happen to be like me and you are a fan of both satanic thrillers and film noir, these will probably end up being some of your very favorite movies, as they are mine.  I have watched both of these movies more times than I can count and they just keep getting better.