Pops Saw a Movie: OBSESSION

OBSESSION (SPOILERS AHEAD)

Every once in a while, hype works on me. Not big blockbuster hype, with films like that, I pretty much know what I’ll see and what I won’t (MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE, no no no no, SUPERGIRL, of course), but rather when something smaller bubbles up and becomes such a part of the conversation that I can’t ignore it. Such is the case with Curry Barker’s OBSESSION. 

I braved the multiplex to see OBSESSION by myself on an early Sunday afternoon, in a thankfully mostly-empty theater (nobody sat in front of me, so I had no distractions), and not only does it live up to the hype, it’s better. The plot is simple: A shy, introverted guy named Bear (short for Baron) uses a magical “One Wish Willow” stick to make his co-worker crush, Nikki fall in love with him. Like, deeply in love. Crazy love. And things do not go according to plan. 

As Nikki’s actual personality is sublimated under the artificial “Freaky Nikki,” helplessly bearing witness to everything that unfolds, and frequently struggling to escape, the craziness begins to escalate as Bear begins to understand that his wish might have been a bad idea. But this is the most horrific, aggravating part of the story: Bear’s immaturity, selfishness, and weakness keep him from doing anything…. ANYTHING to stop what’s unfolding in front of him, ultimately resulting in tragedy for everyone. 

Curry Barker (the writer / director / editor) is a YouTube creator who’s mostly made comedic shorts, and while some viewers of OBSESSION strongly disagree, I think this movie is fucking hilarious at points. I saw an Instagram video that was excoriating people for laughing during the movie, claiming that it was the height of antisocial behavior during a horror film (accompanied by the far more antisocial video shot on a cell phone during said screening). But I laughed out loud about a dozen times… it was uncomfortable, cringe laughter, to be sure, but… I genuinely cracked up. 

One big reason is the astonishing performance of Inde Navarrette as Nikki. Another thing many people are getting wrong about OBSESSION is thinking it’s POSESSION. Nikki is not taken over by an evil entity; she is forced to become someone she’s not, but her true personality remains. Navarrette manages an incredibly tricky balance of enough layers to dip a tortilla chip. In the same moment, you see both the artifice that’s in love with Bear and the tortured soul beneath. She can be screamingly (literally) over the top one second and chillingly understated the next and it all feels genuine. Mark my words, this is the birth of a movie star (and the funny thing is, one of the reasons I ponied up to see this in the theater is that she was up till now best known for being Lana Lang’s daughter in SUPERMAN AND LOIS). 

As Bear, Michael Johnston does well with a thankless role. He’s pitiable from the get-go, testing a Hallmarkesque profession of love for Nikki on a waitress. But apparently, one of the things people are getting wrong about OBSESSION is that he’s not to blame for his wish going wrong and that he’s just a nice guy in over his head (I’ve seen lots of people referring to him as “relatable,” which, ew). YouTube creator Maria McBain posted a video comparing Bear to other ostensible pop culture “nice guys” Ross Geller from FRIENDS and Ducky from PRETTY IN PINK, rightfully pointing out that these characters are primarily “nice” as means to an end to win the objects of their affections and that they’re actually fairly selfish, petty men. Bear is not a hero in any way. He mourns the cat (whose death was his fault for leaving Nana’s open oxycodone bottle in the kitchen) more than he does his recently departed grandmother (whose house he inherits and does almost nothing to make it his own other than tacking up a few posters and shoving a computer station in the corner of the living room). He has countless opportunities throughout the film to do the right thing and he always, ALWAYS chooses the coward’s way out, right up to the end. Anyone who takes Bear’s side is not only missing the point (spoiler alert: it’s about female autonomy), they’re displaying some at least slightly misogynistic tendencies. 

Visually, Barker shows incredible restraint when it comes to mostly eschewing horror tropes like jump scares, and the gore—while effective—takes a back seat to the darker, creepier moments. There are moments that I instantly wanted to rewatch, but then I reached for the remote and realized I was stuck in a damn movie theater (meaning I’m probably going to end up owning this on a shiny plastic disc). 

The film’s very unhappy ending is a fait accompli, but it still carries weight. We don’t know what Nikki’s final fate is, but she ain’t living happily ever after (reportedly, in the original script, Nikki kills herself, but this ending is somehow even more tragic). 

Ultimately, OBSESSION is one of those films that’s become a sensation almost despite itself. It’s way more than just a well-made horror film. It’s smarter, funnier, and mostly darker than most people even realize, and I think it’s destined to be considered a classic of the genre.

Pops Saw Some Movies: OPUS and SMILE 2

In the past week, I’ve watched two horror movies set in the world of pop music, one of them surprisingly much better than the other, both of them making me think about my relationship with that genre (pop music, not horror). 

The new A24 film, OPUS (written and directed by Mark Anthony Green) is about a hugely popular and influential pop star who comes out of retirement after decades to release his long-gestating masterpiece. Alfred Moretti (now there’s a pop icon name for ya) invites a small, select group of media tastemakers to his Utah compound for a special listening event, but everything goes south when it turns out that he’s a cult leader whose agenda only starts with revenge…

It’s… not good. It’s head-scratchingly bad, in fact. Despite a nice performance by Ayo Edebiri of THE BEAR as the hero of the piece (the one chosen guest who’s not a drooling sycophant of Moretti), there’s way too much of a been-there-done-that feel to this movie (many have noted its similarities to films like MIDSOMMAR and THE MENU, the latter of which I quite enjoyed, the former, not so much), and this horror sub-genre has reached the saturation point at which there are very few surprises (even the jump scares don’t pop). The ending is also a little muddled and forced, and I won’t spoil it apart from saying that its metaphor of the cultural brainwashing that a cult of personality engenders is not only a bit heavy handed, but almost redundant at this point. 

But the film’s biggest blunder is its casting, primarily of the enigmatic and hypnotizing pop icon. Alfred Moretti is presented as being bigger, more acclaimed, and more influential than Madonna, Taylor Swift, David Bowie, and Michael Jackson combined. There’s a montage of his last hit, “Dina, Simone” being sung along to by fans around the world and it is a laugh-out-loudly unbelievable construct in which dozens of wannabe actors get their Tic-Toc moment (which, I guess, is apt). Numerous times we’re shown that there are millions who would sell their soul to be in the presence of this icon.

... And he’s played by John Malkovich. No, for real. 

Now, Malkovich is obviously a great actor. Few would argue that. And he chews the scenery in many glam outfits that would make Elton John say, “that’s a little much, don’t you think?” But if part of the point of this movie is the superficiality of celebrity worship, wouldn’t it have made more sense to cast someone who… how can I put this… looks a bit LESS like… John Malkovich? The actor actually sings and raps and dances in a few scenes, and it mostly made me cover my eyes in embarrassment more than any sense of horror. It’s such a weird misstep that I have to imagine Green has some kind of reasoning for the casting, but for me (and others), it just makes the whole setup impossible to buy. 

I mean, at this point, A24 has pretty much lost any automatic prestige it once enjoyed. But let’s move on. 

A few nights later, I decided to watch last year’s SMILE 2 (written and directed by Parker Finn), despite having never seen the first entrant in the series. The plot is pretty simple: A demonic entity moves from victim to victim, causing them to experience horrific hallucinations that eventually drive them insane, compelling them to commit heinous acts until they kill themselves, the demon then jumping to any nearby human vessel (the “Smile” is the demon attempting to ape human emotions and not really getting it).

The possessed person in this film is Skye Riley, a pop star recovering from both addiction and a tragic, drug-fueled car accident that killed her actor boyfriend (she caught the demonic entity from a former dealer from whom she had the misfortune to try to buy some Vicodin). Skye’s comeback is overseen by her manager mother, whose unwavering support is tested by the increasingly erratic, unhinged behavior of her daughter. Skye is told the true nature of her possession by the brother of a former victim of the entity, but it takes a few more nightmarish events / hallucinations for her to be convinced. Skye then takes radical action to free herself of the Smile demon. 

The film is better than I expected, with some genuinely creepy moments (the eeriest one being a scene that contains practically no gore, but rather a smiling, advancing pack of background dancers in Skye’s apartment) and a wallop of an ending. But what truly makes this movie worth a watch is its lead, Naomi Scott, who gives an absolutely astounding performance as the tortured Skye Riley. Scott manages to make us feel empathy for a character whose flaws and wasted opportunities (even before she becomes possessed) normally elicit schadenfreude from an audience who always thinks they’d handle wealth and fame better. She beautifully portrays the conflicted emotions a celebrity often feels towards their fans and their fame. But once the demon takes hold of Skye, Scott’s portrayal of her escalating confusion and terror is nothing short of brilliant. I am not shitting you, I have NEVER seen a performance like this in a horror movie… or any film in which the protagonist suffers an unimaginable nightmare. It’s not just Scott’s willingness to make herself look bad, grimacing with snot running out of her nose and clumps of hair pulled from her head, she absolutely makes you believe that her entire life is falling apart in the worst way imaginable, and there’s nothing she can do to make it stop. It’s a stunning performance, and if I gave any credence to movie awards of any kind, I’d call it a crime that she’s not nominated for anything (genre acting rarely is). 

But what also struck me watching both of these movies back to back is again how utterly disconnected from mainstream America I often am. The pop music world in which these films are set is something in which I’ve never had an iota of interest (aside from a very brief period when I kinda dug Madonna), and often held in high disdain. I sometimes even forget that overproduced, visually-centered, hyper-theatrical, choreographed, style-over-substance stuff like this is something that MOST of the humans unabashedly enjoy without a lick of irony. I mean, I get it, neither of these movies would have worked as well if they’d employed the lead guitarist of a traditional rock band (such as they exist anymore), that the theatricality and excessive lifestyle of a huge pop star makes for a far more dynamic and accessible milieu. But I do wonder if my antipathy towards that genre made me enter these movies with more detachment than if, say, the singer in OPUS were more Bowie and less Swift? Or maybe because I think that stuff is already inherently horrific, it actually helped me to get into the horror mindset? Hm? 

Anyway. Don’t visit a cult compound. Or buy a ticket for stadium pop concerts. It’s risky.

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POSTSCRIPT: A few days after posting this, I watched M. Night Shyamalan's TRAP, another thriller set in the world of pop music. I'd not bothered to see this movie before because I am most decidedly NOT a fan of that particular auteur. I probably should've sucked it up and watched it to round out this review, but...  no, on second thought, I'm glad I didn't. 

Pops Saw a Movie: NOSFERATU

 Years ago, when I first heard that Robert Eggers was interested in doing a NOSFERATU remake, I was over the moon; I couldn’t have imagined a better match of director and material. F.W. Murnau’s unauthorized 1922 adaptation of DRACULA has always been my favorite iteration of that character (or at least the most terrifying) and I was certain that Eggers’ vision and immaculate filmmaking skills would make for way more than just a superfluous adaptation.

So I entered the Alamo Drafthouse Brooklyn last Thursday (along with my brother, Ken, who graciously treated) with way higher expectations than I normally afford myself when going to the movies (even with that occurrence being very rare in the After Times).

And it was fine. I liked it. But NOSFERATU was not the immersive, terrifying experience for which I’d hoped.

I think for me, the biggest issue was that Eggers’ laser-focused insistence on period accuracy worked against the film in this case (unlike in THE VVITCH, when it enhanced that movie’s mood and effectiveness). Making sure your characters are clad in the right clothes, living in the right environments, utilizing the right implements are all laudable goals… to an extent. But when working in the realm of fantasy, shouldn’t there be a little leeway?

Yeah, I’m talking about the mustache. I mean, not JUST the mustache, but the fact that Robert Eggers INSISTED that his Count Orlok (well played by Bill Skarsgård) have a big bushy lip scrub just because it was the style at the time felt like a bit too much. The only aspect of this version of Nosferatu that’s anywhere near as terrifying as the gaunt demon played by Max Schreck over a century ago is his hands (and maybe his coat… but an outer garment shouldn’t be more imposing than Nosferatu’s face). It’s almost as if Eggers forgot that you don’t have to make everything believable IN A VAMPIRE MOVIE.

But it’s not just Skarsgård’s mustachioed, rotting zombie behemoth that dampened my enthusiasm… The first act kind of fell apart for me when Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult, who will also be in the only other movie I plan on seeing in the theater this year) reached Castle Orlok… rather than the traditional build of tension and terror as the young clerk transacts his business within the confines of the strange, disturbing place, things get crazy pretty much immediately, with a perpetually panicked Hutter trying to escape like Bugs Bunny in the clutches of the mad scientist. And having Ellen (a fantastic Lily-Rose Depp) give herself to Orlok at the very beginning of the movie makes the conclusion a bit anticlimactic.

But I did not dislike the film as a whole. The acting is good, the cinematography is gorgeous (although part of me almost wishes Eggers had filmed it in black and white, as the washed out tones are almost never punched up with any color that might’ve added some graphic intensity), there are a handful of indelible shots… but I was expecting more than a handful. Most of the time, it didn’t even feel like a Robert Eggers film to me (an opinion that’s raised some disbelieving hackles amongst my film nerd friends). My favorite thing about this movie shouldn’t be its logo.

Again, my expectations were probably too high. I should know better. We’ll see how I feel when I watch it again after it drops on some streaming platform (and I am glad I didn’t wait for that to see it the first time… I missed all of Eggers’ previous films on the big screen, which I regret).

I should also comment on this being my first Alamo Drafthouse experience… another thing that’s been hyped over the years to lofty assumptions. And again… it was fine. But, like so many other things in the 21st century, for me, it’s TOO much choice. I’m on record as disliking assigned seating in movie theaters, but at least the “no talking, no cell phones” rules eliminate the main reason that I usually want the freedom to move. The reclining lounge chairs are nice, but not necessary. And while it’s great (GREAT) to be able to order a beer or a cocktail, I neither need nor want more than traditional snacks during a movie. I don’t even like the idea of those shitty nachos or hot dogs at the average multiplex. Who the hell wants to eat wings or a burger in a darkened room where you can’t see what you’re doing and the smell is as liable to be intrusive to other patrons as when people chow down on a subway car (which is, of course, verboten)? Bottomless popcorn, yes. Fish and Chips? Hell no!

But, as usual, that’s just me.

(And thanks again, Kenny! It was a really fun day!) 

Pops Saw a Movie: APARTMENT 7A

 Seemingly coming out of nowhere (I hadn’t even heard of it until the day before it dropped on Paramount+), APARTMENT 7A is a prequel to ROSEMARY’S BABY, focusing on the story of the doomed girl Rosemary Woodhouse met in the laundry room in Roman Polanski’s 1968 classic. If you don’t know that film, then (in this context) good for you, because (a) you will enjoy the prequel a lot more than I did, and (b) you get to then watch ROSEMARY’S BABY for the first time! 

It’s not that APARTMENT 7A is BAD; It’s not. It’s well-made, well-cast, with some stunning visuals, a great soundtrack, and a compelling story. I enjoyed it while I was watching it. It’s just that by the end of the film, it offered nothing new. For anyone who knows the original movie, the fate of Terry Gionoffrio is a fait accompli. We know how this movie ends. But the film (co-written by director Natalie Erika James) unfathomably decides to basically retell ROSEMARY’S BABY with a different lead character, leaving us nothing new to chew on and making it impossible to not compare the two films. 

There was an opportunity here to tell a different story; They could’ve focused more on (SPOILER ALERT) Terry’s manipulating benefactors, Minnie and Roman Castevet and the satanic coven they lead in their fancy uptown apartment building (played by NYC’s iconic Dakota), maybe giving us a little more insight into their history and their motivations. They could’ve maybe fleshed out some other members of the coven. Or maybe they could’ve made Terry something other than an aspiring dancer (a little too close to Guy being a struggling actor in the original), or given her a more conflicted personality to ramp up the tension (she feels an awful lot like a single Rosemary in the film). 

But APARTMENT 7A has that unfortunate and cynical tang of a movie made for a young audience that the filmmakers hope / presume are completely unfamiliar with the source material, making it acceptable to so closely echo the original. I don’t think those of us who already love ROSEMARY’S BABY are the target audience. 

The acting (at least by the leads) is great. The always-terrific Julia Garner plays Terry with a compelling mixture of naïveté and strength (I think she’s one of the best actors working today). But I’m sure casting the charming and generous, but also overbearing and, you know, evil Castevets (or, the re-Castevets, heh) was the hardest part of making this movie, as both performances in the original are indelible. As Roman, Kevin McNally channels Sidney Blackmer nicely. But Dianne Wiest as Minnie had the tougher gig; Ruth Gordon’s performance in ROSEMARY’S BABY is iconic: Broad and over-the-top (with Gordon’s exaggerated vocalizations) while still being believable. Wiest HAS to do at least somewhat of an impression, or the audience (at least the audience that saw the original) wouldn’t buy that this is Minnie, but she makes the part just enough her own that it doesn’t feel like she’s doing shtick. 

So, I don’t know if this is a recommendation or not. Again, if you DON’T know ROSEMARY’S BABY, first of all, what the hell’s wrong with you, but you’ll probably be more frightened and surprised than my girlfriend and I were. However, it’ll take a lot of the fun out of watching the 1968 film for the first time. And if you DO love Roman Polanski’s (yeah, yeah) film, your enjoyment will largely depend on how much you don’t mind NOT being surprised.

Pops Watched TV: THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER

Three episodes in, it’s confirmed: I fucking cannot abide anything created by Mike Flanagan. Netflix’ limited series, THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER is the work of a Gen-Xer desperately trying to be embraced by the Z-kidz. It’s a pathetic Poe-dropping wankfest that has absolutely no connection to its supposed source material other than superficial references (SO. MANY. REFERENCES). It’s populated with boring, unlikable characters and peppered with supposedly creepy moments that merely serve to keep the viewer from nodding off from sheer boredom. It makes Roger Corman’s low-budget, loosely adapted 1960s Poe films look like horror classics. I cannot go any further. I regret the two and a half hours I wasted on what I did see. Never again, Mike Flanagan. NEVER. AGAIN.

Originally posted on social media, Oct. 21, 2023

The Pops Gallery: Hey!! Kids!!! Comics!!!! Part VI

It's been a while since I've done one of these galleries, but once I get started, it becomes a week-long research rabbit hole that is so fun I don't wanna do anything else. Taking an old picture of a newsstand / drug store, I've put together montages of the comic book covers on display. In previous installments (which can be seen here), I mostly presented a small sampling of the covers, but this time, with most of these, I endeavored to show every cover I could discern. I was not 100% successful, but I got most of 'em. 

A few notes: The first photo is a 1939 catalogue page from Atlas Wire Products depicting comic books from numerous months in that year. All of the newsstand et al photos are labeled with the cover date of the books on display, which was a few months after they went on sale (the norm for comic books to prolong shelf life).  The Autumn 1951 photo is a screencap from the Season 1 episode of ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN, "Crime Wave," in which a newsstand vendor has a giant story right behind him: Superman's secret identity, on display in a handful of comic books (also of note, all of the books are DC Comics with the one exception of Harvey Comics' JOE PALOOKA for reasons unknown). The shot from 1953 is actually a repeat image, but this time I've shown every comic instead of the sampling I did in Hey!! Kids!!! Comics!!!! Part I. The kid on the sidewalk is looking at a bunch of comic books in Australia, so most of those are variants from down under. The July 1959 shot (with the greaser) is a different angle on a shot from a previous installment of this series. The two images from 1979 (jumping two decades, as I've said before, good newsstand pics from the 1960s and 70s are hard to find) are from unknown comic book shops, so there's a mixture of new and old books on display. 

I've got more of these to come, but they're so labor intensive (and I do have a life, sort of) that it may be a while until Part VII is posted, but when it does come, I'm going to go back to some of the earlier photos and put together more comprehensive montages of the covers on display (as I did with the 1953 entry here). Because, OBSESSIVE. 

1939 catalogue listing for comic book racks

June 1940

March 1942

June 1942

May 1948

June 1948

July 1948

November 1948

July 1949

Adventures of Superman screencap, covers from Autumn 1951

February 1951

Australia 1952

November 1953

Spinner rack, left side

Spinner rack, right side

books on the shelf to the left

October 1954

July 1959

January 1979

Comic book store, December 1979

New comics on display

Old comics on display