“They’re all trying to get inside his physical body”

Insidious: directed by James Wan; written by Leigh Whannell

From what I could tell Insidious was being sold on the apparent strength of the Paranormal Activity series. This didn’t actually work on me, though, because I’ve not seen any of the Paranormal Activity films. I’m not a fan of horror films – I’m either too nervy to enjoy them without my imagination running away with me; or I’m so caught in up solving all the plot-points that I overanalyse it to the point that I don’t feel anything for it. Somehow, Insidious fell through the tracks and I ended up seeing it, though. And as far as set-up goes, even though I’m not a devotee of the genre I could make out the obvious particulars. A conventional family moves into a house which seems to be haunted, and the haunts follow them when they move. But more than any other genre, I’d imagine that horror depends more on the feeling than the particulars and every horror film depends on a haunting but Insidious like its name offers more.

Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne star as our couple in distress, and it’s an immediately curious union. Both actors emanate a sort of steely grace about them so that it’s difficult to completely relish the authenticity in their performances. Even at her best Byrne always seems to be the slightest bit affected. Wilson, too, always seems to be on the wrong side of disarming often seeming more suspicious than dashing (a trait he put to good use in Little Children). And, even though they the turn in good work there's that feeling that they're oddly matched (as nice as they look together). Thus, I’m immediately moved to distrust the veneer of easiness which the film thwarts in all of ten minutes, anyhow. Before long one of the Lambert’s son Dalton enters a bizarre coma and before long the house seems to be acting up and before long a psychic, Elise, is brought in. Insidious harbours a surprisingly logical screenplay. The movement from subtle scares to larger ones is especially organic; the film isn’t interested in the most obvious of thrills.

The concept of possession has always been one that promises potential goodness and the manner in which the notion is handled here is striking. Lin Shave gives a fine performance as the psychic and in a scene (which serves as a set-up for the film’s actual climax) she sits at a table conducting some strange twist on a séance wearing a contraption that’s more ridiculous than horrific. Even if questions are left unanswered, it’s difficult to accuse the film of plot-holes and at the crux of the film as we enter a world referred to as “The Further” the dreamscape quality is beautifully rendered – it’s as much terrible as it is stunning to behold which only adds to the ramifications it unearths. Fantasy seems like such an obvious addendum to horror, and although the film seems more interested in its contemporary trappings Wan is especially adept at tying the fantastical with the horrific in the final act.

And, what an act. True, there’s a slight feeling of intertie in the last ten minutes – as if the film could have wrapped it all up more tidily. And the introduction of two...Ghostbusters ends up being more exasperating than comedic. Otherwise, though, the cast is uniformly game – Barbara Hershey in a small role is surprisingly moving. The final moments of the film live up to its title. More than granting us a visceral scare it leaves the audience with a palpable sense of unease so that at the end you’re tempted to go home and wash off all the traces of the insidiousness – as if your body was the one susceptible to the fiends.

B

“You’re your problem, and you’re also your solution.”

Bridesmaids: directed by Paul Feig, written by Annie Mumolo, Kristen Wiig

I continually run into a problem when I write my reviews. I mean to be analytical and I end up coming off as hypercritical. Bridesmaids is essentially a pleasant two-hour romp, and I take no pains in admitting that I enjoyed it for the most part. I relished what it had to offer for the majority of its running time. But, I feel an acute sense of divide from the majority of audiences when I hear it being fêted as a godsend in the form of female comedy. I feel a bit badly because I feel as if it’s become sort of status quo for me to look for cinematic subtleties in movies that seem fine without them, but I can’t allow Bridesmaids to pass through the blog unscathed. The intent of writers Wiig (who also plays protagonist Annie) and Mumolo is indeed refreshing. At its core, the film seems intent on revelling in female camaraderie, a concept that’s well developed on the small screen but a bit underused in the big screen – especially in the form of comedy. Still, as well intended as the film is it persists with an overwhelming amount of tonal inconsistency that eventually subverts what seems to be the film’s ultimate message.

            

Annie (Wiig) is the natural choice for maid-of-honour when her best friend Lillian becomes engaged. As Annie’s life begins to unravel she must also ward off competition from Helen, a high society wife intent on being Lillian’s new best friend. It seems fastidious to say it, but this immediately prepares the story for divergence which the writers, as talented as they are in some bits, aren’t able to reconcile; because Bridesmaids is uncertain if it wants to be. Is it a character study of Annie? – a woman who’s slowly on her way to hitting rock bottom; she’s in a non-relationship with a narcissistic teddy-boy, played to perfection by Jon Hamm; she shares an apartment with a disturbing pair of siblings and has a job she’s poor at and loathes. Or, is it a chick-flick (which is not a deprecating dissention: by chick flick, I mean a female buddy flick) intent on showing us what happens when six women with different personalities clash. The thing, is drops the ball one time too many on the first and two (maybe, three) of the five personalities are so poorly developed there’s no chance to see them all collide.

           

True, for the first third, despite a tone that’s occasionally on the wrong side of sedate, the two facets seem intent on interacting. In a scene that seems intent on being played for laugh Annie and Helen try to top themselves at an engagement party. The overcutting becomes less funny and more desperate suggesting a potential poignancy that’s mirrored in a meeting at a tennis court where Helen’s façade tries to eschew the meanness of her children. It suggests comedic intelligence that unfortunately goes unfilled.The writing demands that they emerge only occasionally as the film then moves into a woman vs woman throw-down. And, no, I don’t mean to imply that poignancy trumps comedy – Wiig and Mumolo are excellent with the comedic beats and they’re talented enough to make even the most gross-out humour work because they actually have an interest in their characters, but that ends up becoming a bit of a problem. A plane-ride gag halfway through the film seems especially ill-conceived. Wiig, as the true SNL trooper she is, shines with the silliness of it all but it doesn’t work towards helping either of the two characters to develop. It should act as the first indication that Annie is unhinged, or that Helen is unsalvageable but Wiig and Mumlo, as writers, are not prepared to make any of their characters potentially villainous. Thus, Helen’s part in the madness is glossed over and seeing Lillian snub her friends seems inconsistent for two people so close to each other.

                 

Then, with less than thirty minutes to go the film gets an epiphany. When Annie screams “Are you fucking kidding me?” at a ill-fated wedding shower it ends up being a whole lot more cathartic than you’d think. It’s Wiig’s triumph of the film because she manages to make that breakdown come off as less that clichéd but it’s also a significant moment for the film – or it should be – because we realise just how serendipity is fucking with our protagonist. But the script doesn’t seem to be satisfied with this and has Megan, another bridesmaid, appear to tell Annie to get over herself. McCarthy delivers brilliantly on the pep talk, but it feels anachronistic because up until then as much of a downer as she was Annie’s acts were understandable.

But, Bridesmaids has a great deal to offer. It’s eclectic cast is responsible for the best moments Its biggest asset is Melissa McCarthy who does wonderful thing with a role that should play out to be much more clichéd than she allows it to be. In fact, there are times when the film does seem to use her weight as an immediate gag implying that her actions are hilarious just because she’s not thin. This is what makes her so priceless. The role is clichéd and yet she manages to toss out a performance that’s golden. Rudolph and Wiig are so in tune with each other in the film’s first half emanating that easiness that comes with years of friendships. That’s why it’s such a pity that Rudolph is given so little to do in the second half.

 

Bridesmaids is fun to watch and all, and at its best it’s a testimony to good female acting...but for its tonal inconsistency.

                    

B-