8 ½ (Federico Fellini, 1963)

"I thought my ideas were so clear. I wanted to make an honest film. No lies whatsoever."

Introduction

Last week I watched Eyes Wide Shut for the first time. I had no idea whether I would enjoy it or not – I knew it was a long film with polar-opposite opinions for and against the film. But I adored it. I loved the topic it explored – lust within a marriage and the animalistic urges men, and women, feel. Who else explores such issues with such bold strokes and clarity. Woody Allen is exceptionally open about sexuality and marriage and, upon reading about 8 ½, it appears Fellini explored the same topics with equal bravado and surety.

8 ½ manages to capture a specific moment in Fellini’s life as he had completed his eighth film and was stuck considering what he would create for his ninth feature. Jean-Michel Frodon summarises the film by stating that it is “about an artist having to make a work, about a man having to deal with women, about a human having to face life and death” – it tackles the bigger issues of life. It tackles it with humour and surrealism. And I thought Eyes Wide Shut was profound. My first viewing of 8 ½ was during an Italian Cinema season at the BFI – the subtitles combined with the white-sets, a stylistic attribute of Fellini, made it difficult to read. But the scenes and composition of each shot were poetic – almost sonnets for each sequence and scene. It is no wonder that Rob Marshall believed Nine would be successful, as he broke down each scene and sequence into a song-number. The adjustment to the title (probably for copywright purposes) from 8 ½ to Nine highlights all that was wrong with the adaptation – ensuring a definitive title; turning the difficult-to-alphabetise title to an easily-placed-under-the-letter-N – all reek of simplifying something that is made to be complex and ambiguous – making something real that should remain dreamlike.

Following Guido - and following Fellini...

Guido (Marcello Mastroianni) is trapped. He is trapped inside his own car – a machine he bought and controlled the direction of. The car suffocates him and consumes him. This car is filling up with smoke and the surrounding crowd looks into the car as it sits, stuck, in a traffic jam. Guido is a film-director of Science-Fiction - a genre that is complete fantasy - and is struggling to get inspiration for his next film. Like Federico Fellini himself, it is his ninth film that he is having difficulty making. He is stuck in limbo between his eighth and ninth film and he desperately seeks inspiration from the world and those around him. He mixes imagination with reality. We move between his set and his dreams; his conversations through to circus and parades; his childhood or, at least, how he imagines his childhood was. He believes he needs to do this – and we know he needs to find inspiration from somewhere, or else even we have difficulty in knowing how the situation will be resolved.

These are themes and ideas which, to some extent, Fellini has looked at before. Mastroianni acting as Fellini, channelling his innermost feelings in La Dolce Vita. Life as a circus akin to La Strada. But there is something more personal at work here – something that every creator understands, and Mar Diestro-Dopido clearly describes in Sight & Sound: “ a faith in finding a kind of purity”.

Inspiration and Self-Reference

A commentary on Art and Creativity is always a tough balance - though something that many other writers and directors have tackled since. In recent years, filmmaker and writer Charlie Kaufman clearly displays an unease and frustration in his craft as depicted in Adaptation (as a writer) and Synecdoche, New York (as writer/director). Only recently, I wrote about Antonioni’s Blow-Up and Coppola's The Conversation as both attempt to deeply analyse through repetition and action, the nature, and purpose, of their respective skills; photography and surveillance respectively. As noted, Woody Allen seems to regularly approach the subject in his own films so it is no wonder that Allen cites filmmakers Fellini and Antonioni as inspirations to his own work.

Akin to The Searchers, maybe it is the context of its release that is 'genius'. For the time, there was nothing so dreamlike and sexy in cinema – the song number ‘Italiano’ in Nine demonstrates the fashionable, iconic style 8 ½ captured. But alongside the stylishness of the film, 8½ also made cinema more reflective of the auteur – and therefore the director himself. In the director’s poll, Fellini was the most voted-for director, clearly establishing his films as directly influential on filmmakers today. Mark Romanek, Atom Egoyen and Michael Apted all citing 8 ½ as one of the greatest films of all-time. Can we see Fellini’s influence on One Hour Photo – a film portraying a man relentlessly capturing photos and moments in other people’s lives? Can we see it in the 7up series when we watch an episode capturing ordinary people’s lives every seven years? 8 ½ manages to depict a sense of self-analysis that many films have failed to deliver – turning cinema into a window into the directors, and filmmakers heart.

Timeless Rite of Passage

Often, you read about a director choosing to watch a specific film before they embark on production. The nature, themes and execution of 8 ½ is of such a high calibre that turning to Fellini, time and time again, would not be a bad idea for filmmakers today. Even the dreamlike quality of the film lends itself well to the though-process required when considering concepts for filmmaking - indeed, dreams are more complicated than paintings and music alone. Cinema is the art form which closely resembles dreams - and that, I imagine, is what gives the film such credability.

Frodon additionally dictates that 8 ½ effectively demonstrates “Cinema’s march towards modernity”, and this type of self-referential, directorically-controlled, post-modern type of filmmaking is something that was equally ahead of its time. Only a few years ago, critics would claim Inception was Christopher Nolan's 8 ½. I assume that this is because it was so important to Nolan - and was a film which he had been desperate to make for decades. To think that a filmmakers 8 ½ is a film which is deeply personal and incredibly important speaks louder about the films credability than my short essay.

John Ford was quiet about the meaning to his films; Fellini is brutally honest and open about his. This is for interpretation - but it is open-ended. The interpretation says something about you as a viewer – and crucially, it says something about you as an artist.

*I originally wrote a post on this film way back in April 2010 and developed the review significantly. Those writers may be interested in seeing the development of my writing and use of research which I have since adopted. The original post can be found by clicking here

The Searchers (John Ford, 1956)

"Some day this country's gonna be a fine, good place to be. Maybe it needs our bones in the ground before that time can come."

Introduction

Watching the High-Definition version of The Searchers truly is an experience. The vast scale of the landscape between Utah and Arizona, known as Monument Valley, is simply breath-taking when you can see every detail. John Ford manages to capture, in his finest film, the isolation, beauty and threatening nature of this world. Set in 1858, Ford commands our attention from the unforgettable opening shot as Ethan Edwards (John Wayne) rides toward his brother’s house alone on horseback. He is, and remains, a wanderer – and this film reveals this man as a human who is racist and content with taking another man’s life. Though, we should despise him – Ford manages to portray him as heroic. This conflict is set-up within the first few minutes – already separating this film apart from films like Day of the Outlaw and the various ‘psychological’ westerns that appeared at the time.

A Tragic and Dangerous World

The set-up portrays Ethan staying with his brother Aaron (Walter Coy) – but clearly; his love is deeper with his sister-in-law, Martha (Dorothy Jordon). Uncomfortable moments show the Reverend (Ward Bond) witness Martha smell Ethan’s jacket, before handing it over, and lovingly look in his eyes before he plants a tender kiss on her forehead. Ethan then joins the Texas Rangers, taking the place of his Brother, as they check for Indians who’ve apparently stolen cattle – only to reveal that it was a ploy to draw them away from their loved ones. Ethan returns to find his Brother, Nephew (Robert Lyden) and Sister-in-law murdered – and the girls kidnapped.

The film takes an ugly turn as it is clear that Martha has been raped by the Comanches during the attack before she was killed. We are left to truly fear what has happened to the children. This moment is so shocking that it completely changes the mood of the film – this is not a positive film anymore and, as the impetus to move the film on, we are constantly brought back to realising how tragic this situation is. The teenage daughter Lucy (Pippa Scott) has a lover, Brad (Harry Carey Jnr), who joins Ethan in searching for the girls – whilst “half-breed” Martin (Jeffrey Hunter), who was raised by the family, additionally supports (despite Ethan’s racist attitude towards him). As the rangers begin their search, the horrendous moment is turned worse when Ethan returns after a walk within the mountains, that he found Lucy and clearly she had been raped and killed herself. This film is a far call from the white-clothed cowboys of the previous few years – Alan Ladd’s lead-character in Shane wouldn’t last long against these Indians.
 

A Quiet Man

Many documentaries, when discussing John Ford, often show the awkward interview Peter Bogdanovich had with the man. John Ford was a director alongside Alfred Hitchcock and Fritz Lang who began their craft in the silent era. They managed to progress past the evolution of sound and dominance of colour – and in their twilight years, they managed to create masterpieces such as The Big Heat and Vertigo. It is strange to imagine the work-like attitude to filmmaking a director like John Ford had – the idea of discussing, analysing and deconstructing a film was not something he often demonstrated. His interview with Bogdanovich is a testament to that. As Martin Scorsese says in his documentary A Personal Journey…, most American directors at the time “never claimed to be artists” priding themselves on “holding their cards close to their chest”.

 

With this in mind, it is fascinating how much depth and quality of thought has gone into The Searchers. So many characteristics and situations that were chosen to hold further meaning than mere ‘entertainment’. Edward Buscombe, a Searchers ‘expert’ if you will, has written many books about the many layers of meaning that reside within the 120 minute run-time. The appearance of the film in this year’s Sight & Sound poll was the first appearance it made since its fifth position in 1992. The assumption is that Western films, as a genre, have grown in popularity due to films like 3:10 to Yuma and Seraphim Falls, and of-course the Westerns from the Coen brothers. It is more likely that John Ford’s “stock having risen higher than ever in the past decade”, according to Kieron Corless, is what has caused a small revival of the film. I would be tempted to note how the quality of films in the past couple of years may have factored into the vote – has anyone been able to see the beauty of Monument Valley to such a standard before now? Did John Ford himself ever view such a high-quality digital version? The answer is no – personally, as a second watch, I was amazed at the quality.

 

Multi-Layered

Akin to the many layers in the landscape, the film itself holds deeper meanings that are worth considering. Contextually, Ethan himself is an aging man – stuck in his racist and animalistic ways. Did he simply steal the money he hands to his brother at the beginning? The Searchers was released at a point whereby Westerns were changing dramatically. The multiple revisionist versions of the Western – whereby American-Indians were depicted more sympathetically and Spaghetti Westerns, whereby the landscapes were the deserts and world of Italy, were just around the corner. John Ford and John Wayne were many years away from their hey-day in films such as Stagecoach back in 1939. Does Ethan represent the out-of-date attitudes and approaches to the western genre – almost as if Ethan is the aging version of the heroes in the 40’s films. Now he is corrupted and deeply angry about the world that frowns down on his automatic disgust against Indians – there was a time that this was celebrated and supported. But he has no place in this world – and is almost a villain in his attitudes. But he believes his duty, initially to find - and then to murder - Debbie (Natalie Wood) is righteous and justified. We know it’s not, but there is a conflicted character – and a conflicted attitude as to how you as an audience, want the story to progress.

Edward Buscombe writes further, noting how “slowly we realise that the Comanche chief Scar (Henry Brandon) functions as kind of mirror image of Ethan. In raping Martha before he kills her, Scar has performed a horrific travesty of the act that Ethan secretly dreamed of committing. Ethans urge to kill both Scar and Debbie thus arises from his need to obliterate his own illegitimate desires.”

A fascinating interpretation that is supported by sequences whereby the Indians and Texas Rangers ride their horses in parallel, directly imitating each other almost as a mirror-image. Even the opening and closing shots similarity becomes more than mere symmetry – more reminding us of the many parallels in the story between characters.

That Closing Shot

Wayne holds himself, one arm across his body; one leg slightly bent. Two thirds of the screen is black – only the centre panel reveals the characters walking into the house leaving Ethan behind before he walks away. This is a shot that has been used so much now, it is difficult to even highlight the initial use of it by Ford. It is simply now ‘that’ shot . Up there with the’ Vertigo’ shot, used in Jaws.

Even the progression of the story is innovative – in one sequence we hear about Martin and Ethan’s search through multiple voice-overs as Martin’s lover (Vera Miles) reads a letter. The story, directly impacted on Star Wars, as Luke Skywalker’s family are murdered when he is away. Tatooine is a desert landscape and ‘that shot’ is used, when Luke’s Aunt calls him to the house.

This film represents genre, and the multiple-versions and attitudes towards genre. How a genre adapts and changes over time – how meanings and interpretations can alter in each generation. How characters, actors and directors manage to refine their trade and rather than becoming the same character, they become almost a reflection of the ‘truth’ of characters. I imagine Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven (even Adam Sandler in Funny People) preparing by watching John Wayne in The Searchers. Trying to be honest and depict a sense of the reality of their film-career. This is a personal reflection on what they have achieved - and what their characters truly mean. This is a brutal-film that critic Barry Norman manages to summarise effortlessly by stating how it is “a film of quite riveting power executed by a director who had no peer as a maker of westerns”.  I would even go so-far as to say that it was a film director who had no peer as a maker of genre-filmmaking as I cannot think of anyone else who refined a career so much within only one genre. The Searchers makes it all worthwhile.

Skyfall (Sam Mendes, 2012)

"Take the bloody shot!"

 

Introduction

The possibility of Skyfall achieving acknowledgement at the Academy Awards is not without merit. An outstanding cast, Oscar-nominated composers and cinematographers with, for the first time ever, an Oscar-winning director, clearly establishes Skyfall as a film which has broken the rules regarding James Bond filmmaking. Despite this, Skyfall additionally manages to respect the series with the usual tropes of 007 by seamlessly advertising tourist hot-spots including Shanghai, Istanbul and – in the year of the 2012 Olympics – London. It includes exceptionally attractive ‘Bond Girls’ including Naomie Harris and Bérénice Marlohe, but it is Judi Dench’s ‘M’ who is the central female character. We witness the re-arrival of Q (Ben Whishaw), offering a clear attempt at re-aligning all the facets which make James Bond so engaging. This film took "the bloody shot" and is a game-changer – and makes no attempt at hiding its influences.

 

“Storm’s Coming” 

 

It is interesting that, in a year whereby Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises advertised the term ‘a storm is coming’ as Bruce Wayne harked back to his roots, the James Bond film delves deeper than any other James Bond film since On Her Majesty’s Secret Service in exploring where 007 emerged from – and additionally uses the line “storm’s coming” to precede the final act. The film begins as 007 is shot during a mission in Turkey attempting to retrieve a list of undercover-agents, which has managed to get into the wrong hands. The plot is similar to the McGuffin in Mission: Impossible and the infamous ‘Noc’ list. Unlike DePalma’s thriller, Skyfall continues initially under the assumption that Bond is dead – whilst M is held accountable for the loss of the agent and the missing list. Suffice to say, due to a terrorist-attack on MI5, 007 returns to England. But he is a broken-man and has to re-establish himself as the skilled-spy that he truly is.

Producers Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli have tried to change the Bond series for decades. Licence to Kill changed the formulae as Felix Leiter became a victim to Robert Davi’s ‘Sanchez’ (and his sharks), whilst Bond in true Dirty Harry form, “went rogue” to avenge his best friend’s death. Goldeneye became self-aware as the villain was alternate-agent 006 (Sean Bean), mocking the characteristics of Bond which we love. The World is not Enough saw ‘M’ become a victim as Sophie Marceau’s ‘Elektra King’ double-crossed the whole of MI5 and even Die Another Day pre-dated Daniel Craig as Brosnan’s Bond was tortured by scorpions during the opening sequence. Until Casino Royale all these attempts simply failed under the pressures of the expectations of the Bond series – so Die Another Day jarringly blended the torture at the start with a diamond-laser finale.

In 2006, Martin Campbell and Daniel Craig proved that James Bond can be so much more - and in Skyfall, all these elements come together to create a 007 adventure that truly represents James Bond in the modern era. No more token-gestures at change – Skyfall truly, and literally, destroys the “House that Broccoli-and-Saltzman built", in favour of a series built on firmer foundations. Scott Mendelson writes how these elements are what weaken Skyfall, stating the we are "drudging along recycled territory" whilst the filmmakers themselves offer only mere "periodic pandering" to fans of the series. I would disagree - after 23 films, this is what we have all wanted. It is simply a shame that they have tried (and failed) so regularly since Brosnan was cast to change the formulae without losing what we all love about the series.
 

Influences Further Afield

What separates Skyfall further from the franchise is the incredible direction of Mendes behind the camera. Rather than merely turning to action-films to inspire him, Mendes turns to films as diverse as Apocalypse Now, The Usual Suspects and Chris Nolan’s The Dark Knight to create mood and depict scenes. Marc Forster failed to evoke the action depicted in The Bourne Trilogy in Quantum of Solace, but it seems that Mendes knew that this direction was the wrong tone for James Bond. Whilst Jason Bourne was rough, off-the-radar and uncontrollable – James Bond can be clean cut, exemplifies extreme class and style and his attitude borders on blatant arrogance. His snarky quips representing his personal, supreme confidence in his skill. Jason Bourne would be unlikely to discuss his sexual-experiences with an enemy when tied to a chair – as James Bond does with the brilliant villain Silva (Javiar Bardem). It is this use of character that not-only separates James Bond from the Jack Bauers and Ethan Hunts of the world, but it also separates Skyfall from all of its predecessors.

Indeed, supporting cast members Judi Dench and Naomie Harris manage to provide a scope to the film that the lone-wolf in Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace lacked. Harris’ ‘Eve’ is much more than a token ‘Bond-girl’, whilst M manages to garner more screen-time than any other actor other than Bond himself. The fact that Oscar-winner Judi Dench holds the role assures you of the quality of her depiction of ‘M’ in her seventh-outing as 007’s superior. In this film particularly, her role is one to be commended and celebrated. Indeed, she is as conflicted about the morality of her role in MI5, leading men into battle, as James Bond is about his espionage work on the front-line. Therefore, it is simply poetic that Silva is a character (not unlike Alec Trevelyan in GoldenEye and Scaramanga in TheMan with the Golden Gun) who is physically and mentally 007’s reflected-rival, adding a further dimension to the Mother-Child relationship between Bond and M.
 

The Destruction of the Past

As a fan of the series, the final-act is what is noticeably different to previous outings. Even Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace had an almost-cliché finale as huge, exotic locations – Venice and the Atacama Desert in Chile respectively – set the scene for an explosive ending that would-not be out of place in any other Connery or Moore adventure. Skyfall sets the scene in the highlands of Scotland. The misty moors and dusty chandeliers are hardly the expensive ‘quality’ we are used to seeing in the series. But it is Roger Deakins that turns the location into a ghost-town that accurately represents the story which Purvis, Wade and Logan are telling. Again, this is not your usual James Bond film and the end of this film is like no-other. Sam Mendes has peeled back the layers of the character to reveal his history and his past – something that many may see as sacrilege. But Deakins cinematography is simply glorious; capturing the mood and emotion attached to the moment. After Vesper (Eva Green) ‘stripped away his armour’ in Casino Royale - only for him to bury it deep within his soul after her betrayal; Skyfall destroys every other human characteristic James Bond had, and the final act represents how much has been taken away to make 007 a lethal man with a licence to kill.

Fans of the series will leave the film with a similar crooked smile on their face. We will think to ourselves “Now he is James Bond!” the same thing we thought when the sniper-rifle hit Mr White at the end of Casino Royale. In that respect, a niggle of frustration may creep through as it has almost been three films now of ‘understanding’ James Bond. Can’t we simply have a James Bond adventure? Can’t we see a story contained unto a single film without a self-referential collective ‘aah’ when he says the same “You must be joking” line we have heard too many times in the series? Maybe. In fairness, this is what Quantum of Solace should’ve been. This is what the 20^th film, Die Another Day, dreamt it could’ve been. But it is 50 years since Dr No, and this film is a way that truly celebrates that success. No other franchise has such longevity and, therefore, captures 50 years of stylistic changes and cultural shifts over the period of its release. This film will remain a special film for many reasons – the use of James Bond’s home town, London; the political and personal relevance to the nature of terrorism in the 21^st century; the dramatic finale. It is only fitting that the film ends where it all began, almost daring younger and new-fans of the series to pick up the box set and go back to the start. Because behind all the Oscar-nominees and Oscar-winners; behind the cast and crew; behind the two producers who have managed to maintain the series since GoldenEye are fans of the series – like we are. And we only want what is best for Bond – and this could be the very best of the entire series.

The Human Centipede II: Full Sequence (Tom Six, 2011)

"Maybe he's connecting the pain that a centipede inflicts with the pain inflicted on him through use of psychological and sexual abuse by his father."

Introduction

There was a point whereby I openly admitted that I would never watch this film. I knew about the sandpaper and the staple-gun, so I felt that there is a line you draw and you say no. But, people talk about it and it becomes a bit of an apple-on-the-knowledge-tree. I couldn’t judge it until I saw it and I couldn’t truly believe the horror unless I sat through it. Then Flickering Myth, a site I write for put up a request for a contributor to review it. It didn’t cost me a penny and might be a fun night. I was fearful about what I would see but, with friends, we watched. My god, what a disappointment. It could’ve been an obvious-fear-story … it could’ve been a direct sequel to the previous instalment. In many ways, it should’ve been. Seriously, I could create a better story myself. It was an example – and you need this once in a while – of a film I don’t like and what I believe cinema is not about. Maybe I knew this from the outset, but it’s good to sometimes clarify your position on cinema.'

Detached Progression (Human Centipede II)

 

As hinted at before, the open-ended finale of The Human Centipede (First Sequence) gave the impression of some-sort of scope for a sequel. Tom Six, creatively, detaches the film completely from a continuing narrative in The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence) by constructing a story that depicts a character, Martin (Laurence R. Harvey), who is obsessed with the first film. At this stage, it is worth noting that I viewed the UK-version released on Blu-Ray. In that regard, key-scenes are omitted: the death of a baby and a rape using barbed-wire were two of the 32 cuts the BBFC made to the film.

 

From the very first few minutes, we are in a different world. Unlike the European flavour of the prior film, THC2 is set primarily in a car park and a council-flat. The tone therefore shifts to become almost an attempt at realism, shot in a pseudo-intelligent black-and-white palette. The complete switch from the rural context of the previous film is switched to an urban, London environment – but an urban world that has very few people within it, except for those who Martin comes into contact with. Tom Six has claimed that this huge change in tone is due to the films perspective – the first film presented from the perspective of Dr. Hieter, and the second in Martin’s dingy and dirty world.
 

So Bad it’s Bad

 

It truly is a train-wreck of a film. Conversations that it is the ‘worst-film’ of all-time are not without reason – but it is not due to the violence and horror that is presented. It seems as if Tom Six completely lost what people enjoyed about the first film. He almost mocks any type of critical-analysis of the first film as a character attempts to deconstruct the obsession Martin has with the film. This, by its attempt at psycho-analysis almost asks viewers to take the film more seriously than mere horror. Conversations, by actors of a low-standard, discuss child-abuse, psychology and the mental illness Martin has. To make matters worse, Martin is virtually mute – only relying on strange laughter, his crying and guttural noises to indicate whatever is going on in his mind.

 

We have no sympathy or understanding towards his victims as they are purely portrayed as victims and nothing more. You imagine the girls in the previous film – and the humanisation of the two as they prepare for a night-out, then get lost and walk to the house, etc. In THC2, victims appear and are kidnapped. For example, in one sequence a prostitute is kidnapped and, mid-kidnapping, the scene cuts to him placing the body in the van (Another cut scene maybe?) so that the only element of interest – How did he kidnap her? – is completely negated for a scene of him driving a van. The film became an experience simply to sit through – I didn’t know who the people really were; I didn’t care about what they were doing; I did not feel any element of tension as to what this man was ‘capable’ of. We understand he is horrible – to the point that when we hear a baby crying in one kidnapping, it’s not surprising. Of course the introduction of an infant in such a film was inevitable. The cuts scenes I am aware of would only add to the unnecessary, irrelevant scenes of torture and pain Martin creates.

 

On a personal note, I watched both films as a double-viewing alongside my brother. Following the screening, he noted how it almost came across as simply ‘attention-seeking’. I couldn’t put it better myself. As an example of this, the only element of colour follows a sequence as he injects each part of the human centipede with laxative and consequently, we see faeces burst through the staple-gunned mouth-to-anus and on the screen. Coloured brown. No rhyme or reason – simply grotesque for the sake of horror.
 

Shock-Value or Worse?

 

You could easily blame the cheap ‘shock-value’ as the core problem of the film but this isn’t the main area of concern. The problem lies in how the film virtually has no context of a world that Martin lives within; it has no characterisation to Martin as he has mental-issues and doesn’t talk. As the world and characters are so empty and silent it limits any type of bigger scope for Tom Six to work within. The positive reviews (and there are a few from Bloody Disgusting and New York Post) seem to highlight how THC2 is a response to the criticism of the first film. [SPOILERS] The ambiguous ending of THC2 gives the impression that maybe Martin himself imagined the events of the entire film – is there a hint of an idea that horror films are what you make of them? Opposed to the argument that horror-films are an excuse or scape-goat for the ills in society.

 

I’m not keen on adhering to that perspective as the film does not set-up anything to imply that this theory is justified; Tom Six could’ve tacked on the ending as an after-thought. The fact remains that Martins job is surveillance as a car park attendant. He observes on monitors the everyday life of other people – so it is worth noting how Tom Six himself worked for Endemol and on TV productions including Big Brother. The pleasure to be found in obsessing and, even eroticising, people and characters who potentially have a weakness, naivety or misplaced-arrogance in their own appearance on screen connects well with Tom Six himself – and leads itself well into an argument regarding the depiction of ‘normal’ people that reality TV can often celebrate. The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence) is misplaced arrogance and celebrates a type of filmmaking that lacks any artistic credibility whatsoever; much like reality TV itself.

 

The Human Centipede I: First Sequence (Tom Six, 2009)

"I'll explain this spectacular operation only once"

Introduction

Two films which have garnered huge attention in pop-culture are Tom Six’s ever-increasing-in-length The Human Centipede series (The Human Centipede III (Final Sequence) is in production). Either you assign yourself to a camp of horrified film-fans; How can a film like this be made? What an offensive and deeply unsettling idea! Etc. The second option is a camp whereby you look to the films as a strange anomaly – equally intrigued and disgusted by the ideas, but interested nevertheless. Or you are in the third camp whereby this type of B-Movie, sub-standard, ‘shock’-Horror film viewing is what is ideal for a night-in with friends. As an interesting aside, my decision to watch the films (I sit in the second camp) had criticisms from one group of film-writers who were shocked at my decision to watch the films in the first place; How can I watch F.W. Murnau’s Sunrise one day and then watch this the next? Then I had a different group of film-writers who, by the same token, were equally shocked – but because it was a niche-genre; one which they pride themselves on their own in-depth knowledge of. In both cases, the decision to watch the film on my part is a strange one – but why not? A film represents the filmmaker and, if successful, it represents an interest on the part of the audience. What is it that has drawn viewers to this film – is it merely the shock value or something more?

The B-Movie ‘Human Centipede’

The trappings of a B-Movie are evident from the very start in The Human Centipede (First Sequence). Small cast, young-and-attractive teenagers lost on a road-trip … they approach a strange house which, we already know, contains a sinister character. So far, so-very “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”. The story rolls along with such an obvious narrative, you feel as if the idea of ‘The Human Centipede’ came first and the story later. I can imagine Tom Six sitting at a laptop realising that the ‘shock’ idea of a ‘Human Centipede’ would be fascinating in-and-of itself – the story surrounding it would be more difficult. Indeed, the release in 2010 of the ‘first sequence’ is hot-on-the-heels of Saw and the various films of the torture-porn genre. Unlike many (but not all) of these films, The Human Centipede is set primarily in one house and the clinical implements are highlighted from the outset. The vast majority of the ‘horror’ comes from what we know he has, does and will do. We don’t see anything explicitly. In that regard, the film is intelligent as it hints at the surgeon-like precision that Dr. Heiter (Dieter Laser) clearly excels in.

In 2012, it even predates the exceptional skill of Antonio Banderas’ doctor in The Skin I Live In and could be influenced by the twin brothers in Cronenbergs body-horror Dead Ringers. In both cases, we are horrified by the insanity of their genius – Banderas using his skin-grafting skills for evil; Jeremy Irons using their gynaecological knowledge to create ‘gynaecological instruments for mutant women’. We look at the clinical implements in the room with horror as we understand what they do – but do not see them in use. We definitely don’t see their use-of-purpose. In The Human Centipede, we don’t see his skill in merging each human together; we don’t see the attachment between anus and mouth. We do see his exquisite explanation of what he will do – and a child-like drawing to clarify, before they wake up connected. By that point, the camera would have to be in a pretty strange position to clearly show the stitched-up connection.

A Fear of Foreigners

Akin to Hostel, the fear of foreigners may play a part too.  Therefore the characterisation is something to explore further; is the nationality of the characters purposeful? Is Dr. Heiter preying on a deeply-rooted, but archaic, fear of Nazi-Germany, and the experiments within concentration camps? Are the two lead females purely selected for their target-market appeal; the attractive-women running in fear from the monster? Is the Asian character who leads the centipede chosen purely for his lack of communication-skills, as he speaks a different language? These are all possibilities. I could even theorise that it is a representation of a European feeding off, and abusing, the Asian-American combined-power, as the victims initially reached the continent with only token gestures of respect towards European culture and economic stability. It’s a huge step, granted – but interesting to consider nevertheless.

Despite the obvious expectations of the film, it ultimately seems to create a story whereby we are engaged by the mad-doctor and we are equally voyeurs in watching how the film will end: do they survive? How can they survive? An ambiguous ending leaves the film in an enviable position as it could continue. Key-characters fail to survive, but the question remains as to how the character remaining will continue their life. I would be hard-pushed to recommend it – but if you are after a fun night-in with some obvious thrills and shocks, alongside a gross-idea acted out, then by all means; hunt the film out.