The Escapist

''Domino''



I've been reviewing films for a few years now and the only reliable way I've found of telling if I'm watching a great film or one I'm really enjoying is if I don't start reviewing it whilst I'm watching it as I become so caught up in what is happening on screen that I don't bother to intellectualise it. So far this year, a handful of films have done this; No Country For Old Men managed it, as did There Will Be Blood, Cloverfield and Iron Man. I can now add The Escapist to this list.

Considering we are constantly told that we've got prisons so stuffed with criminals that they're bursting out like an over-filled donut, Britain has a surprising dearth of prison movies in its cinematic heritage, so it's interesting to see a British take on a genre that has been very well worn by others.

That's the first thing that needs to be said about The Escapist; it isn't original. It follows the conventions of prison escape movies very closely, from its cast of characters to its plot points and narrative development. The movie's plot starts when Frank Perry (Brian Cox) receives a letter from his wife, the first in 14 years, bringing him ill news about his daughter. He's the elderly leader who will assemble the no doubt ragtag group who will attempt to break out. And, indeed, he does. He quickly gets tunneling expert Brody (Liam Cunnigham), strong man Lenny Drake (Joseph Fiennes) and prison pharmacist (read: drug manufacturer) Viv Batista (Seu Jorge), all of whom have something to gain by escaping from the prison.

So far, so standard. Any of these characters can be found in any number of prison escape movies, and you'd be hard pressed not to watch the sequence in which a group of new prisoners are brought into the prison amidst catcalls and threats of rape with thinking of The Shawshank Redemption, and the inclusion of human obstacles in the form of prison boss, Rizza, (Damien Lewis) and his equally psychotic brother, Tony, (Steven Mackintosh) would only seem to reinforce the idea that this is a by-the-numbers journey into a genre that hardly represents new territory.

However, what stops the film from falling into these pitfalls, even as its characters find themselves stumbling through their own, is the verve and freshness that director and co-writer Rupert Wyatt brings to proceedings, both in his direction and the script. All the characters, though they may be stock types, completely avoid caricature or easy categorisation; Frank isn't all-knowing or wise-cracking, he's a man trying to make the most of a bad situation and willing to do whatever he can to make his escape possible; Lenny Drake isn't a dumb all-muscles, no brain brawler, he's a wily, intelligent man of violence. Probably the only characters who conform to type are the villainous ones, with both Rizza and Tony being little more than two-dimensional psychos. Fortunately, both Mackintosh and Lewis (who, if I was pushed, I'd pick as the stand-out performer, though it's a very close call) are so forceful that it barely matters.

Wyatt's directorial choices are also hugely important in defining the film. The story unravels over two parallel plotlines; one detailing the formation of the team and the preparations they have to undertake and the threats they must overcome in the build-up to the escape; the other detailing the escape itself. This allows the film to structure itself around juxtaposition of events and themes, we see what will happen to the characters during the escape, then cut back to the men trying to figure out how they'll pull it off. This is initially very jarring, and the first few times the narrative jumped around I found myself wondering if perhaps the film would have benefited from a more linear style, but gradually it begins to make sense and you realise that this structure, rather than just being a stylistic tool or an attempt to manipulate the emotions of the audience, is actually integral to the themes of the film and I realised that it would have been an infinitely weaker film if it had just gone from A to B without detouring to C and D along the way.

What's most important about the film, though, is that it doesn't forget to be fun. For all its artistry and characterisation, it still manages to tell a story and the relentless drive of the storytelling is one of the best things about it. From the moment we see Lenny Drake start smashing through concrete to the moments the credits roll, the film barely stops for breath. This is large due to the mix of slow-burning conversations, plotting and moments of quiet tension and non-stop chases that the two different timelines of the film provide, but its also because the story is so tightly wound that I spent all my time trying to unravel it and work out how it fitted together. It feels very much like a film that has been made out of time, with its 70s style opening and credits, you get the feeling that you're discovering a lost gem, and this mix of adventure and intelligence really reinforced that notion in my mind.

There's also a wonderfully metaphysical side to the film, all to do with the idea of escape and the more elegiac notion of freedom and that really appealed to me. The film was already an interesting character study-cum-action thriller, as well as an exploration of masculinity, so this extra sprinkling of philosophy really pushed it over from being an entertaining and polished thrill ride into one of the best films I've seen this year.

It's not without flaws, I think that the incidental music used throughout, whilst excellent, is a tad oppressive. That's probably the intention of course, but the ambient noises used throughout (slamming doors, shouting, the almost lifelike sounds of a prison) do much more to establish that sense of confinement than the music ever coul, even if the thumping strings used throughout really do get the blood pumping. However, the two instances where the film uses Leonard Cohen's version of 'The Partisan' are exceptions to this rule since the song chimes so perfectly with the images and ideas of the film. So that's my first gripe. The second would be that, for fear of giving anything away, the ending over does things a bit. There is an important montage at the end of the film that puts its point across brilliantly in 30 seconds, then continues for another 3 minutes.

Anyway, I loved The Escapist, even with its flaws. It's a bold, driven and intelligent piece of British cinema that takes a story that could have all too easily become one of those laddy heist films and really does something with it. Terrific.

The Happening

Central Park, New York, just after 9 o'clock on a Tuesday morning. People in the park stop moving, workers on a building site fall to their deaths, and all sorts of mysterious events occur. The occurrence is initially believed to be a terrorist attack and, fearing further attacks, Elliot Moore (Mark Wahlberg), his wife Alma (Zooey Deschanel), friend Julian (John Leguizamo) and Julian's daughter Jess (Ashlyn Sanchez) decide to leave their home city of Philadelphia. Unfortunately, the occurrence does not seem to be restricted to New York, and the group quickly find themselves stranded, with an unknown threat lying around every corner.

Now, before we get into the meat of what's wrong with The Happening, I'll say right now that it is nowhere near as bad as the reviews would have you believe (currently at a not so healthy 19% on Rottentomatoes). Don't get me wrong, it is severely flawed and there are many awful moments in it, but it's also a very ambitious horror film, though we'll leave that aspect aside for the moment, and I found myself liking it a lot more than I thought I would. Needless to say, it's a film which does not deserve the ignominy that has been heaped upon it.

I like M. Night Shyamalan. I think he's a hugely talented director in purely technical terms, there's few mainstream Hollywood directors who can provide jumps and thrills with nothing but a camera and a well-timed edit as well as he can, but his technical abilities behind the camera sometimes exceed his skills behind the typewriter, something which sadly impacts upon The Happening and its where most of its problems stem from. The dialogue is often stilted, leaving the actors flailing around trying to make it work and, to their credit, they just about manage, though Zooey Deschanel does spend most of the film displaying the emotional range of a broken plate.

The film also suffers from terrible pacing, veering ungainly from moments of creeping, scintillating tension and horror to moments of dull, uninspired expositionary dialogue. Even the exposition isn't particularly well handled, spread unevenly as it is throughout the film so that, to paraphrase a line from the film itself, we are given useless bits of information one piece at a time (I'd like to think that this is an example of witty self-reflexivity on the part of Shyamalan, though I can't really be certain). It's not completely hopeless, though, as there are a few laughs to be had, including one moment which may be the funniest thing I've seen this year, but its clear that the film could have been improved hugely if someone else had done a much needed bit of script doctoring.

Crucially, the film fails to really engage with its, potentially interesting, central conceit, one which I won't spoil for anyone who has managed to avoid it. Most of the characters don't believe the explanation offered, as is only to be expected, but its almost as if Shyamalan doesn't really believe it either, so it's kind of hard to get behind it. Having said that, I was won over by the film in the end regarding the cause of the happening, but it was hard work getting there.

Fortunately, though, there's enough good stuff to compensate for the weak writing, even if it can never overcome that debilitating affliction. Firstly, the direction is superb; Shyamalan ekes plenty of scares from the smallest moments (one involving a bed and a doll made me leap out of my seat, even though I could see it coming) and some of the deaths are very well staged, even if they aren't as bloody as you might expect, given the emphasis the marketing has placed on the gore factor of the film. It's also a great credit to Shyamalan that he makes the scenes in which the threat menaces the main characters into tense set-pieces, even if there's nothing for us to see.

This last factor is what I like best about the film; it has no clear, definite threat for the characters to face, it's all about an unseen menace that can come at any time and wreak havoc. This rather esoteric form of horror, and the success with which the film manages to carry it off, is probably the greatest strength of the film, as well as its tremendous ambition and the ability with which it confronts, subverts and abandons some of the stock conventions of horror movies. Here we have a horror film which takes place entirely in daylight, one which also takes place predominantly outside in wide, open space, and in which the only safe havens characters encounter are creepy houses that would usually be occupied by serial killer types. All credit needs to be given to those involved for taking this approach, even if the final result is not as cohesive as it needs to be and the writing still undermines a lot of what the film does right.

It should also be noted that The Happening is a film which tries to address the possibility of the end of humanity, not through war, nuclear apocalypse or the other usual apocalyptic tropes, but by a freak act of nature. That it tries this within the confines of a horror film is nothing short of commendable.

However, as much as I liked The Happening, it would be remiss of me not to mention the final ten minutes, ten minutes which came very close to destroying my good opinion of the film. There is a moment during the last ten minutes in which a short exchange between two characters delivers up one of the most sanctimonious moments I've seen in any film. It's so condescending that Shyamalan could not talk down to the audience more if he reached through the screen, grabbed them by the ears and screamed ''HEY, THIS HAS RELEVANCE TO MODERN DAY CONCERNS!'' I mean, the rest of the film isn't the most subtle piece of pro-environmental propaganda ever, but the ending really takes the biscuit. It didn't completely destroy the good will I had built up over the preceding 80-odd minutes, but it did break the spell that it had managed to cast over me.

So, it's not great, but neither is it the complete disaster that everyone seems to want it to be. I went along expecting a fairly good eco-thriller and that's what I got. The various elements of it don't hold together, mainly due to some rather shoddy writing, but all in all it's a creepy, entertaining film that tries to do something different with horror conventions and, for the most part, succeeds. If you can forgive its failings; the writing, the forced performances (something which seems to be intentional, though I can't quite determine what aim they serve) and the messiness of the story, then you'll be able to enjoy a solid, thoughtful horror film, even if its brains are firmly implanted in its arse some of the time.

Mass Effect (Xbox 360, PC)

When will Science Fiction writers realise that technology doesn't progress all that quickly? We're allegedly 7 years past 2001's Space Odyssey, 9 years past the development of Space 1999's moon base and it's been two years since the cartoon "Transformers" movie was set. Quite frankly I'm getting impatient, I want a giant shape shifting robot sidekick dammit. Unless it was Blur, he was crap. Mass Effect follows a similar path of not seeming far enough in the future but is still really great, with humanity beginning to build a space empire in 2152. The game is set a bit later, but still...

The universe they have created is one of those positive, utopian looks at the future, similar to Star Trek, rather than the bleak nightmares of Blade Runner. In it, humans have stepped up to the galactic stage, wishing to prove their worth to the already established races in the universe. In a way, the story is a bit predictable for Bioware, as it involves taking a chosen one like hero character that has to save the universe, by moralising between good and evil choices, something done in Baldur's Gate, Jade Empire and Knights of the Old Republic. Don't worry about that, it's a simple RPG vehicle that works, but it's in the details that the story becomes more impressive.

The amount it crams in is fantastic, every race feels unique and distinct, with each having it's own back story that means that the game really does warrant a huge amount of exploration. If you want to hear about them, there are always characters around to ask. The reptilian Krogan story in particular is brilliantly handled, and sets up their surly, nihilistic demeanour perfectly, whereas the bird like Turians' on going underlying tension with the humans suggests that a civil war within the Galactic Senate could erupt at any time. There are very few games that manage this level of cohesiveness and depth within an original world, with only Grim Fandango, Deus Ex and Legacy of Kain springing to mind. It has been suggested that there is a little bit too much detail given in the game journal, but I have never found extra content worthy of complaint.

Except that is when it comes to the side quests. These are the only true weakness in the game, as if you want your characters to get the best weapons and highest levels, they are necessary but are incredibly repetitive. Not only the scenarios, but also the actual buildings used are copied and pasted around the game. This could be due, however, to the sheer level of graphic fidelity and the length of the game, in which case I'd rather not sacrifice anything from the main campaign.

The visuals themselves are exemplary, as is the soundtrack – all John Carpenter-esque synths and clinical overtones. Graphically, the game is almost perfect, but not quite aside from a few very noticeable flaws. There is notable pop in when you enter most rooms in the game, which can often break the fourth wall. Also, the rigging in the characters' arms is terrible, and they often look like their arms are made of loose strips of rubber if you look closely. However, the facial animation is light years ahead of anything else on a computer game and even rivals some films, which is an impressive feat impressive for real time rendering. The environments are varied and all fantastic, ranging from moon bases to deep mining lairs, glacial mountains and fiery volcano worlds, Bioware have taken the idea of planet hopping and run with it to great effect.

The game play is a strange hybrid of RPG and Gears of War style shooting, and works very well. It has enough depth and customisation to appeal to the hardcore role players yet action packed enough to bring in a whole new audience. Played from a third person perspective, it features the common place over the shoulder aiming, as well as two command-able wing men. These generally do what you tell them, though have a worrying tendency of finding their best spot move to is right in your own line of fire. It can be frustrating, but it's easy to get around. Also, if team mates are killed in combat they're actually “knocked out” which makes it a bit more forgiving, if logic defying. There are vehicles that can be used in the game, but they're not great. Though the power of a tank cannon is satisfying compared to normal combat, they handle as if the wheels are made of particularly bouncy marshmallow. Hopefully these can be fixed for the sequel.

The player is given the choice of three (well, nine) character classes, but with any combination of them. In layman's RPG terms, they are Fighter, Mage and Thief, but here as Soldier, Adept and Engineer. The first is one for the Gears fans, liking to get stuck into the nitty gritty of the shooting, and customising the rifles. The second is my favourite, being able to affect gravity, the spells feel suitably futuristic. My favourite is lift, which can actually levitate cover, allowing you to have a sniper waiting for the newly exposed enemy. It's not a fun class to start with, but gets progressively more fun as it goes on. Finally, there's the Engineer. I really can't see why anyone would want to specifically play as this. Limited weapons access and a weak array of powers that take an age to recharge, it just doesn't seem much more useful than hacking doors and computers. It's handy to take a mixed class one with you, but I couldn't find much use other than that. To be honest, who'd really want to be the guy who held the door open for the galactic heroes? Exactly. In a way, I hope they expand on this for the next game, allowing level ten accountants, and the guy who sounds the early warning alarm.

This was a really difficult review to write, and I hope it's entertaining because it's very hard to make a review funny when the game is so damn close to perfection. The gripes I found with the game don't really damage the experience, but I felt i needed to pick it up on something. It's easily the best game on the 360, and possibly even of the last five years. If you like games with action, a good storyline, depth and excitement, then it's impossible not to recommend. If Bioware want to improve on it for the sequel, then they have a hell of a task ahead of them.

Gone, Baby, Gone*

Boston Confidential



Four-year old Amanda McCready goes missing from her home whilst her boozy, part-time drug muling mother Helene (Amy Ryan) is out for the evening. Three days into the investigation and no one is any closer to finding her. It's at this point that Amanda's aunt Bea (Amy Madigan) and Lionel (Titus Welliver; good actor, great moustache) call on private detectives Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro (Casey Affleck and Michelle Monaghan) to ''augment the investigation'', even though they don't particularly want to get involved and know that the case could very easily break them. In Angie's words, ''I don't want to find a four-year old in a dumpster.''

Based on Dennis Lehane's novel of the same name, Gone Baby Gone could just be notable as the feature film debut of Ben Affleck, who also has a co-writer credit on the screenplay, and it could all too easily have been a self-indulgent affair designed to lure people in based on Affleck's name alone. Fortunately, that is not the case, as Affleck and his collaborators have made a tight, atmospheric and refreshingly bleak (if that's possible) film.

Much of what is good about the film is down to Affleck The Elder's direction, which is assured and suggests that he may have a very fine second career ahead of him if he chooses to pursue it. Though it's ostensibly a thriller about a kidnapping, the strength of the film is in its characterisation, its ambience and its depiction of Boston. It's this last part which I think is key to how good the film is since it places itself firmly within its environment, creating a great sense of authenticity that goes beyond the more obvious things like accents and lots of bars with Irish names. You really get a sense that the film is giving us a glimpse into a real world, one of the people who ''start in the cracks, then fall through them.'' Affleck and his co-writer, Aaron Stockard, also bring a realistic feel to the dialogue, making it feel loose and free-flowing without becoming messy; everything is to the point, but it's wrapped up in some deliciously funny, often foul-mouthed lines. In many ways, its quite an ugly film; there's a grainy, unpolished quality to it that touches upon everything from the cramped, dirty interiors to the relative lack of photogenic actors and extras, with the exception of the two leads, of course.

In some ways, this is a problem for the film; Affleck (The Younger) and Monaghan seem like outsiders in a world that the story demands they know everything about. They're too damn good looking and too clean to really seem a part of the world they have to work in, so you don't quite get the sense of immersion that you would think a film like this would hinge on. Also, from the view of the film as an adaptation, they're almost a decade too young for the characters, since Gone, Baby, Gone is the fourth book in the Kenzie-Gennaro series and the characters in the book are both pushing forty and have already solved many cases and killed many people by the time they tackle the McCready case (though that's not the strangest piece of casting, case in point, a character who, in the book, is a white guy who thinks he's black is actually black in the film). However, the film makes its leads' youth an advantage, giving other characters plenty of reason to question their involvement in the case, allowing for Affleck and Monaghan to seem out of their depth in a way which you never feel the characters in the book do, and allows for a very nice in-joke about half an hour in. Though Monaghan is under-used, Casey Affleck's magnetic, little boy lost performance more than manages to hold the audience for the running time, adding further evidence to the argument that he may be blossoming into one of the finest actors of his generation.

There's also fine support from Ed Harris and John Ashton as a pair of C.A.C. (Crimes Against Children) officers who find themselves working with Kenzie and Gennaro and whose methods are less than orthodox (as is the tradition with any decent movie cops), as well as from Morgan Freeman as the head of CAC. Probably the strongest performance in the film, though, is that of Amy Ryan, who was nominated for the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her role. It's a role that could easily have been overly nasty or heartless, but Ryan manages to make Helene at least partially sympathetic, even if you know that she is an awful mother and that she might never change. It's this sort of ambiguity that the film really does well; though some characters may agonise over what, if anything, is 'right', the film never offers any answers and its interesting to see how the characters react to the events that occur, with some of these seeming to come completely out of the blue.

So, what's wrong with Gone Baby Gone? Not much, if I'm honest, but it does have a number of problems that cause the film to fumble it at the end. The main problem with the film is its final 20 minutes, even though Affleck and Stockard have pruned Lehane's loping, tangential novel into a much more concise, leaner and, in some ways, more muscular beast, ditching characters, combining others and significantly reworking the mechanics of the plot, it still has a lot of threads running through it and even if it is nowhere near as twisty-turny as the novel, it still has a few disorientating turns and things need to be wrapped up by the end. Whilst it's perfectly easy to wrap these things up in a couple of pages in a novel, it's less easy to do so effectively in 10 or 15 minutes in a film, so the finale drags as all the various plot points are resolved and we're treated to an overdose of flashbacks to explain everything (this is commonly known as 'Narc Syndrome'). It also doesn't help that some of these moments veer dangerously close to melodrama, something that doesn't really fit with the gritty, down and dirty aesthetic of the rest of the film and they really do go on, and on, and on, and on, and on. Not a terrible thing by any means, but when the first three-quarters of a film feels like 40 minutes and the last 15 feels like an hour, it does cause the mind to wander.

There's also a feeling that the more obviously 'thriller' elements of the story are not taken all that seriously, as if they're just an encumbrance that the mood and characters have to put up with, so it sometimes comes as quite jarring when, for example, a gunfight breaks out and ends almost immediately. This is mainly because Ben Affleck is playing to the film's strengths and so the decision to avoid lengthy, crowd-pleasing gunfights is one that ultimately benefits the other elements of the film, but a little bit more attention could have been paid to them, since what little we see of them is very good.

If it's not a masterpiece, it's only because it is ultimately a victim of its own virtues. For 100 minutes, its a great film with strong performances from the entire cast, but especially Amy Ryan and Casey Affleck, a very good script and tight direction. It falls at the final hurdle thanks to a protracted finale, but what's great about it more than outweighs the failings.

*Yes, I know the commas aren't in the title of the film but they are for the book and I prefer it with the commas intact. Get off my case, dammit!

Requiem

What do you believe in?
In God.



Michaela Klinger (Sandra Hüller, looks a bit like Chloe from 24) is a 21 year-old girl preparing to start her first semester at university, having already lost one year to reasons that she is unwilling to discuss with anyone. It soon becomes apparent that the reason for her year out, as well as some of her odd behaviour, is her epilepsy, a condition she keeps hidden from those outside of her family, including best friend Hanna (Anna Blomeier, looks a bit like Jessica Hynes (nee Stevenson)) and boyfriend Stefan (Nicholas Reinke, looks like a lot of people, yet no one in particular). Things are complicated by Michaela's fervent Christianity, and her belief that her condition is a test from God.

If any of the above sounds familiar, that's because it is. Requiem is based on the same case that the more supernatural and sensationalist American film The Exorcism of Emily Rose. However, whilst that film was more concerned with the aftermath and what happened to the poor girl and the possible role that the clergy may have played, this film is a drama which takes the more difficult task of creating for us a portrait of a confused, intelligent and highly devout girl who does not understand the condition that afflicts her. The film succeeds splendidly in this endeavour and, even if it takes a while to get going, it's fascinating to watch Michaela struggle with her new life, her condition and her repressive mother, it's a joy to watch her brief moments of happiness, and harrowing to see her eventual decline. All of this is beautifully played by Sandra Hüller, who really carries the film with an astonishing central performance, managing to give a sense of hope for her character even though her destiny is never in doubt.

This is largely to do with the presentation of the film. It completely avoids any special effects, or even background music, in favour of a naturalistic, almost documentary approach to the story. This goes a long way to making the story as effective as it is, since it creates a real sense of ambiguity over how the film-makers view Michaela's condition; is it medical, or is it demonic? The film refuses to fall on one side or the other, leaving it up to the audience to bring their own beliefs to the table. It's a brave approach to the subject and I think the film benefits hugely from it.

It's also an incredibly frustrating film because Michaela is an inherently frustrating character. She's clever, funny, articulate, kind, loving and has so many redeeming qualities, yet it's her irrationality that leads to her downfall. Her central misunderstanding of her condition and her stubbornness about it mean that although there are plenty of moments for her to get help, with even her family's priest telling her that it's just fantasies in her head, that God and the Devil are just constructs, not literal things that can possess her, yet she keeps plowing on, until she starts to convince those around her that her condition is more than medical. This is the central tragedy of the film, and even though it ends before we get to see what happens to Michaela (though their is a postscript that leaves little doubt, though I didn't have any when I went in anyway), it is still deeply, deeply saddening to see how her story progresses.

Incidentally, I was particularly pleased to see that the clergy in general were represented in a fairly even-handed way. It's too cheap and easy to demonise them in a story like this and its to the credit of its creators that they manage to keep things balanced until the story demands for the scales to be tipped.

I wasn't expecting much from this, I even forgot why I had put it on my Lovefilm list (in case anyone wants to know, Mark Kermode recommended it on an old podcast) but I was really quite taken with it. It's as brilliant and frustrating as its central character, but it's an exceptional film that tackles a difficult, deeply psychological and religious story and does wonderful things with it. It's very rough around the edges, but the core makes up for it.

Also, it's got a very good soundtrack, in that the songs that are used are perfectly suited to their scenes, particularly 'Anthem' by Deep Purple.

The Mist

This review is both simultaneously too early and too late; too early for the film's theatrical release here in dear Old Blighty, too late for its DVD release in the states (I watched it on a DVD that my parents very kindly brought me back from a recent sojourn over there) but I can't keep my excitement in about it.


There's something in the mist!



Or 'Stephen King's The Mist' if you're not into the whole brevity thing.

In the wake of a terrible storm, a mysterious fog (I've already used 'Mist' too many times) descends over a small town in Maine, trapping several people inside a convenience store, including movie poster artist David Drayton (Thomas Jane, it what should rightfully be a career-making role), his son Billy, store manager Ollie Weeks (Toby Jones) and Mrs. Carmody (Marcia Gay Harden), a local eccentric who perceives the mist as the ending of the world. Why so much concern about the mist? Well, there's something in that mist...

I've been looking forward to this film for some time as I like the work of screenwriter-director Frank Darabont and his previous adaptations of King stories have, in my opinion, made for very good films. Not masterpieces, but very good films. I've also just recently read the novella upon which the film is based and, in general, I find that films based on King's novellas and short stories tend to be better than those based on his novels. Throw into the mix a creepy, claustrophobic story of personal horror and the ugliness of humanity, and my expectations were set rather high. Fortunately, the film delivered.

Unlike a lot of horror films I've seen recently, with the very notable exception of The Orphanage, 'The Mist' is not about blood and guts (though there's nothing wrong with that); it's about suspense, atmosphere and characters. Though Darabont jettisons the novella's slow-build in favour of a more immediate way into the story, he doesn't lose the sense of dread and entrapment that I loved about the novella. Once the characters find themselves trapped between aisles and with things (no other word for them) outside, you know that they and you are in for a bumpy ride. There's a really raw feeling to the film and it's got a documentary aesthetic (courtesy of the film crew of brilliantly grimy US cop show 'The Shield', fans of which will notice some obvious stylistic similarities) that I found very compelling, adding to the sense of sheer, unfettered panic. I'm always drawn to films that use small, enclosed spaces to stage their action, and The Mist is a great example of this style of film-making. Bar the opening scene, pretty much everything that happens in the film takes place in a confined space, or in a place where it is so impossible to see that it might as well be confined. The sense of creeping, inescapable dread is palpable, making the moments when nothing is happening just as uneasy as those when people are getting ripped to shreds. The use of a large ensemble cast of both main characters and extras adds to this sense of confusion and goes a long way to establishing the atmosphere of the film as one of fear, panic and helplessness. Y'know, all the fun stuff.

Now, I said earlier that The Mist isn't about blood and guts, and it isn't, but that doesn't mean there isn't any. Or that it isn't quite nasty; flesh being ripped out, torsos being mangled, bodies being eaten from the inside out; all sorts of stuff that'll make you grimace and smile at the same time.. There's a certain glee to its gore, as if the film knows that those moments are going to be relatively few and far between and that it should really get its money worth each time, with characters being disposed of in a number of inventive ways that run the gamut from wince-inducing to downright sickening. Though the restraint and atmosphere are what make the film memorable and should be applauded for doing so, it's nice to see it let loose once in a while, since those moments are easily the most enjoyable.

The creature effects, by the same group that worked on Pan's Labyrinth, are superb, creating some really unique and creepy critters to terrorise the hapless sods, even if a lot of them are only half-seen or flit around too quickly to be noticed. Some of the CGI isn't entirely convincing, but considering how small the budget of the film was and just how damn good it is, you can't hold that against them.

But the creatures, good as they are, are not what makes The Mist terrifying. It seems a bit trite and cliched to say it, but the horror of The Mist really does lie with the humans, not the creatures that assail them. Within minutes of their first encounter with the mist and its many-limbed horrors, we see the people trapped inside the shop begin to break down. Some turn to drink, others try to busy themselves with shoring up the defenses, and others are drawn to the apocalyptic ravings of Mrs. Carmody, who sees the mist as a punishment from God visited upon the corrupt people of the Earth, and nothing will appease it except 'expiation'. Carmody is a truly great film villain and Marcia Gay Harden is superb in the role; part lunatic, part prophet, it's all too easy to see how people, scared and defenseless, would be drawn to her end of days fervour, making the actions of people who had otherwise been rational all too understandable, and all too horrific for it. You also can't help but wonder if there is a subtext to the film about modern America, certainly the unknown, undefinable threat of the mist is not a million miles aware from the unknown, undefinable threat of terrorism, and the way in which rational people are sidelined by staring evangelists is not without a real world equivalent. However, like any good horror with a social conscience, you can also just enjoy the blood, guts and expertly handled scares.

The sense of claustrophobia, paranoia and prejudice reminded me very strongly of the Twilight Zone episode 'The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street', in which a neighbourhood of people who are otherwise friendly, genial people turn on each other when they suspect that one or more of them may not be of this Earth. 'The Mist' takes this sort of premise and realises it in a full, bloody, heartbreaking way, right from the moment we first see the mist, up until its much talked about ending. Which I'm not going to talk about. Seriously, not a jot. It's too good to discuss. All I'll say is that I loved it and thought it was a really strong, bold ending to a strong, bold film.

I have to say, watching The Mist made me a little bit mad. The film hasn't been a tremendous success, possibly because it's too bleak, yet much less intelligent and far less scary horror films have done much better business during the same period. I'm not getting on my high horse or anything (I enjoy some no-nonsense, braindead horror as much as the next man) but it just annoys me that this film hasn't been embraced as it should have because it's great. Really great. A really great horror film that will hopefully find a wider audience on DVD than it seems to have done on its criminally overlooked theatrical run.