TONY - London Serial Killer

Serial murder has been a staple of the movies since their infancy; Alfred Hitchcock’s first big success came with The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog (1927), a mystery thriller inspired by Jack the Ripper and one of early cinema’s enduring classics is Fritz Lang’s M (1931) which was based on the crimes of Peter Kürten. And interestingly, the legion of celluloid slayers that have followed in their wake can be split into two groups, based upon the portrayal of the killers in these movies.

The first group take their cues from the Avenger in The Lodger; monstrous figures stalking the shadows whose features are hidden, the midnight prowlers whose true identity is a mystery and are known only by a colourful nom-de-guerre. These are the killers of the thrillers, slashers and chillers and they depict the multiple murderers as a species of walking villainy, as evil personified. And most of the movies’ serial killers fit into this category – the human monster that symbolises our fear of our fellow man, of the other.

The second and more sparsely populated group follows in the footsteps of Lang. They come to their stories armed with criminology and psychology, with the facts and forensics, and they attempt to present a truer picture of the serial murderer. Serial murderers may commit appalling acts, but most of the time they behave like ordinary members of society, leading otherwise unremarkable lives. In fact, one could argue that the real horror lies not within the details of their crimes but in the fact that they are such mundane people, that bar their secret criminal career they are utterly normal - they are not monsters, they are us.

But within this second category, we may also identify a third group – films that focus upon serial murder but do not fall into the thriller or horror genres. Here we find serial killer biopics like In the Light of the Moon (aka Ed Gein) and 10 Rillington Place that soberly reconstruct the facts of the cases they are based on. And it is into this subset that Tony falls.

Although not based on any particular case history, although Dennis Nilsen was an obvious inspiration, Tony is a new British film that follows a week or so in the life of an active serial murderer in the East End of London. Shot almost documentary style, this isn’t your usual fictional killer or your usual serial murder flick, rather it is a haunting slice of life revealing the day to day activities of our eponymous murderer. And as such would–be viewers are warned that Tony does not follow the traditional three act structure; there is a story line of sorts but it is more a loose thread connecting the events we see rather than a proper plot. And also although it is billed as a full feature, this is quite a short film. However it is longer than the average short - Tony is perhaps best described as the cinematic equivalent of a novella - clocking in at just over one hour and ten minutes

But what a compelling 74 minutes it is. Director Gerard Johnson has crafted an elegant little film that lingers in the mind long after the credits rolled. My first impression was that if Mike Leigh ever directed a movie about serial murder then the result would be not dissimilar to Tony, and judging by a quote from Sight & Sound on one of the movie’s posters – “If Mike Leigh remade Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer - I am not alone in that reaction. Like much of Leigh’s work, Tony is fastidiously realistic, travelling through the down-at-heel back streets showing us a side of London you don’t normally see in the movies and meeting the everyday but slightly eccentric characters who dwell there. And similar to Leigh’s work, there is a touch of humour in Tony; capturing the same absurdities of human behaviour and the unconscious comedy of misunderstanding and social awkwardness.

However although Johnston acknowledges Leigh as an influence, in an interview he has revealed that his prime inspiration is the work of another noted British director Alan Clarke. And on a second viewing, you can see the influence of Clarke’s films and TV dramas: Tony focuses on the gritty edges of society where the neglected and disenfranchised are left to their own devices, with the city London becoming a important character in itself. Unemployed and evidently suffering with a great many mental health issues, Tony spends most of his time wandering the streets, trying and failing to forge connections with the people around him. And as we follow him on his travels we see the many different faces of London, from the seedy estates to the glitzy West End, and one feels that in a sense the ancient city is his only real friend. Although his victims are drawn from the same underclass that he inhabits, he is also preyed upon himself by the uncaring authority figures and the general populace who ignore him because he is does not fit in.

Although there are some parallels to the Dennis Nilsen case - like Nilsen Tony kills for company - there are significant differences. Nilsen was a textbook example of the everyday guy in the office who one day is revealed as a monster, but Tony is very different – he is has no ordinary life, no job, no friends; he’s a man who has fallen down the cracks in society and been forgotten about. Whereas Nilsen possess sufficient social skills to hold down a job, Tony is much more obviously mentally unwell, seeming suffering with a kind of social dyslexia – the rules of interaction and communication are baffling to him because he has evidently been marginalised all his life.

We never discover much about his personal history but we do get a few hints about his past and the film is such a vivid character study, we may infer a lot from how he acts and behaves. Apparently, the actor who plays him, Peter Ferdinando, did write up Tony’s personal history which no one else was allowed to see, even Johnson. And this attention to detail is shines through in the strength of his performance - budding psychologists and armchair criminologists will have a field day trying to construct the back-story from what we see on screen.

Ferdinando is simply quite astounding – totally believable and utterly magnetic. His performance takes us into Tony’s world and it is a testament to his acting that most viewers will end up sympathising with the character rather than being revolted. Despite the often shocking violence and horrendous scenes of him cutting up bodies, against all the odds we do end up feeling sorry for Tony. Unlike many serial killers who artfully wear a mask of normality and sanity, Tony is clearly unwell; a broken product of society’s failures, and consequently we feel sadness rather than revulsion.

And Johnson’s direction is equally dazzling – the quality of the cinematography belies the film’s tiny budget. This is a very handsome looking film, brimming beautiful shots that capture the flavour and texture of the forgotten corners of English cities and the subtleties of the performances. According to the fascinating commentary track on the DVD, remarkably much of the street scenes were filmed guerrilla style, something you’d never guess from the careful framing of the shots. Also Johnson is to be commended for spending much of the movie’s development time rehearsing the actors; building up the characters’ depth and allowing the script to grow and develop throughout this process. And having such a long period of rehearsal before shooting commenced pays off beautifully in the finished film with very natural and finely crafted performances from the cast. Like Ink, Tony proves that low budget need not be synonymous with low quality – spending time working with the cast, honing your script and carefully planning your shots costs little other than time and the investment will pay off handsomely.

Johnson and Ferdinando are definitely talents to watch. The DVD of Tony comes with the original short that the feature grew from, and seeing the leap Tony made in this transition, I’m greatly looking forward to what they will produce next. Already they are working on another feature, as yet untitled and this time with a larger budget and a more conventional narrative.

Tony will not suit everybody’s tastes; no doubt some viewers will be frustrated by the film’s open story structure, and indeed some reviewers have slammed it because ‘nothing happens’. And largely I blame the distributers’ addition of the tag ‘London Serial Killer’ to the title for this – it’s is not terribly helpful marketing as it sets up the expectation of the usual slasher/thriller runaround. But Johnston did not set out to make your typical serial killer flick, but a piece of social realist cinema – a genre where a rounded story with a neat resolution is anathema to the director’s goals, and indeed where usually ‘nothing happens’.

But while the movie could be seen as threadbare in terms of a conventional plot, there is actually a lot going on beneath the surface; there is a loose arc to the series of events which will leave the receptive viewer will several tantalising options of what will happen next. And Johnson and Ferdinando have packed so much cinematic craft into the short running time, Tony will definitely reward repeated viewings.

However in the main, Tony is all about mood and character; much like Taxi Driver - another film where nothing actually happens for most of the running time – watching Tony is essentially hitching a ride in a disturbed character’s skull, seeing and experiencing the underside of the big city through the eyes of a forgotten and neglected man. The careful observations of London, the intricacies of Ferdinando’s performance, and a atmospheric score by The The’s Matt Johnson come together to create a compelling journey through the grime corners of both sanity and society.

And although Tony lacks elaborate gore set pieces or jump scares, if you can get onboard with Johnson’s vision, the powerful atmosphere and weighty realism actually make the film far more chilling than your average psycho on the loose – a Tony could well live in the next street to you, something you can’t really say of Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees or Hannibal Lecter. He’s the man you pass in the road and never notice, operating undetected and quietly cutting a swathe through the population…

THE BEARCAST

Hello chaps and chapesses!

As some of you lot who follow the Twitters may be aware, Mr Jim has been away on his hols, gallivanting about Southern Europe, drinking too much and completely failing to get off with waitresses. And he’s not done a stroke of work lately either! So then it was up to me, to step into the fray and provide a review for you good people. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Mr Leslie, a bear of wealth and taste, and head ted here at Hypnogoria Towers. Lovely to meet me you all!

Now there are many fine broadcasts available in the podosphere – bricklayers have hodcasts, Christians do godcasts, amphibians on frogcasts, and all manner of oddcasts for every conceivable kind of weirdo imaginable. Now as some of you may be aware, several years ago there was the Revelation, when many stuffed toys revealed themselves to be sentient. And naturally, we new sentients needed a podcast all of our own! Enter Mr Jeb, a London ted!

In the beginning, there was The Lost Bearings Radio Show, an audio dramatisation of the events of the Revelation – which you may find here – put together by Mr Jeb with assistance from Marty Perrett of The BoxRoom podcast. And soon after The Bearcast was born! The first series, which aired in 2008 on the interwebs, saw Mr Jeb bantering with fellow bears Token Female and Terry about anything that crossed their minds – films, cartoons, the difficulties of being a stuffed toy, and something called ‘doctoroo’. Marvellous stuff – funny, insightful and definitely smarter than the average human. (Honestly, where you clodhoppers ever got the idea you were intelligent baffles me!)

And now after a lengthy break, The Bearcast is back! Thanks to the assistance of Mr Danny Davies, this time round Mr Jeb is joined by a new co-host Mr Napoleon R Taverner, a bear of great repute from the West country and the arch enemy of crows. And by Paddington’s Beard, it’s longer, funnier and more beer soaked than ever before, with our heroes exploring tangents where no bear has gone before.

And Series 2 is jam packed full of brand spanking new features! There’s the John Nettles Job Seekers challenge, where possible other jobs for the star of Bergerac and Midsummer Murders are debated. There’s Questions For Terry, a feature where this sagest of bears answers listeners’ queries on life, the universe and any old tosh you care to send in. Also there usually some abuse and threats from Napoleon's wayward brother Wellington, a bear psychotically dense and very, very angry they won't let him on the show. And coming over from The Box Room Podcast, there’s Ask Tim – another question based feature on ‘doctoroo’, where esoteric points of Time Lord lore are illuminated in a comedy fashion.

Just like Series One, there is the regular discussion of a strange news story, often of a highly unconvincing report of a UFO and the like. Plus the bears play a couple of kicking tunes every show – bringing you aural gems from the best new and little known artists.

But mainly it's just Mr Jeb and Napoleon bantering away, delivering so much wit you'll bust your seams laughing. Trust me there'll be stuffing everywhere bu the end of an episode if you're not careful!

Here's a sample of the wit and wisdom of Messrs Jeb and Napoleon... Have a needle and thread ready!

The Bearcast – both Series One and Two, plus trailers featuring exclusive rambling, can be found here.

Lost Bearings can be discovered lurking on Mr Jeb’s Tumblr.

The BoxRoom podcast lives over here.

And you can follow Mr Jeb and Napoleon on the Twitters – just clicketh their monikers!

Righty ho! Must dash, I’m a busy bear and there’s a honey pot waiting my attention. Ding Dong!

FRIDAY 13th Part 8 - Jason Takes Manhattan...Allegedly

There will be blood and there will be spoilers

“Dear God no! For the love of Christ no! You can’t do this to me! Make it stop!”

No, that’s not a quote from the movie – that was me when I realised I was going to have to watch this flick yet again before penning this review. If you were wondering exactly why it’s taken so long to get through this marathon of Friday 13th reviews, you can lay the blame squarely on this movie; or rather my reluctance to slip this particular cinematic atrocity into the old DVD player once again.

Yes, this is the film that stank so bad, Paramount finally pulled the plug on the franchise. And it is truly horrible. Yes, they kept cutting back the budget and forcing director Rob Heddon's script through the rewrite mangle, but even so the frequent changes to the story line don’t excuse the huge swathes of nonsense this flick delivers. It’s easily the worst film in the franchise, severed hands down. And while there are a few memorable scenes, on the whole the film is so irredeemably shoddy it doesn’t even cut it in the so-bad-its-good stakes. It’s just plain bad and the only way to get any enjoyment out of this one is to drink heavily and merciless mock the nonsense as it unfolds. So then, let's cry havoc and unleash the dogs of sarcasm…

Right from the start, you know you are in trouble when instead of a proper opening theme we have a very ‘80s slice of pop-rock tosh blithering on about life in the big city. And as we see more of New York in this credits sequences than we do in the rest of the movie, I can only assume the decision to play this even then terminally uncredible song over the top of it was just a vain attempt to justify the film’s title. Look we're in the big city! The electro funk man says so!

You see the biggest problem for this outing is that Jason doesn’t really take Manhattan, in any way, shape or form... And not just because the Muppets had already beaten him to it, or that Leonard Cohen had proposed a similar manoeuvre the preceding year either.

Thanks to Paramount’s budget cuts, scene after scene in the original script were axed. So sequences of Jason wreaking havoc around the Big Apple landmarks, such as Madison Square Gardens, the Brooklyn Bridge, the Empire State building and Broadway, were sliced away one by one until all we were left with was a quick stroll through Times Square in the film’s finale. So instead, we spend most of the running time stuck on a boat. And it is a huge let-down - really this one should have been called Cruise-Alonga-Jason.

Now when you hear the title Jason Takes Manhattan, you instantly start imagining scenes of colossal carnage. Up until now our slaphead anti-hero has been confined to the American backwoods; an isolated milieu where he only ever encountered small numbers of people. And every single person he's ever met, he's attempted to brutally slay. Hence the title of this flick has you picturing him going completely berserk in the metropolis; with tens if not hundreds of people falling to his machete. Entire squads of police dying while trying to halt the unstoppable undead killing machine. The National Guard are called into no avail. CIA, FBI, NSA and sundry other acronyms mobilised and the carnage all builds up to an apocalyptic finale where they have to airstrike a large area of Manhattan in order to stop the tsunani of slashing.

Alright, the studio coffers probably wouldn’t have stretched to all the above mayhem but you get the idea. Jason turning up in Manhattan should have been one long killing spree causing a city wide panic. So then having him stuck on boat for three quarters of the movie was a big disappointment – and for me, more of a slap in the face than The New Beginning and its-not-the-real-Jason Scooby Doo twist.

But it’s no use crying over spilt milk and pondering what could have been. However what we did get unfortunately just doesn’t really cut the mustard either. Now in terms of the direction, in fairness the film is better shot than the hobbled by 3D Part 3, but unfortunately the story contains far more stupidity than Miner’s second Friday flick – some mean feat as that wasn’t going to win any awards for coherence either. Now I’m reliably informed that in the commentary for the US DVD release, director Rob Heddon tells us that his first cut was around the two hour mark, so you may be thinking that in pruning it down to the more acceptable 90 minutes mark accounts for some of the outright weirdness in the plot. However judging from the list of cut scenes on the IMDB trivia page, although the excised material may have built up the characters more, as far as I can see none of the missing material would make sense of some of the highly annoying loopiness the film delivers.

Lordy lordy, where to start… Right, first up the damn boat. Now I can ignore the thoroughly bizarre bending of all the laws of geography of having a lake that leads to Manhattan. We’ll just let that one go, along with the fact that judging from the exterior shots of the ship we see and the interiors we are shown, it would appear that this craft was built with Time Lord technology. Nope, the thing that bothers me most is what the hell happened to the swarms of kids on board? We see a few minor cast members despatched by Jason but the rest vanish into thin air never to be mentioned again. Not even when the ship sinks. What was going on there? An oblique reference to the Marie Celeste?

Next up, why can Jason now teleport? Slasher films are notorious for having their usually slow walking killers catching up with their sprinting prey and popping up in unexpected places, but in Jason Takes Manhattan he does literally appear to have gained to the ability to materialise anywhere he damn well likes. Now presumably this ties into Things That Make Don’t Make A Shred of Sense - Even For This Series #3…

..Which is the whole business of Rennie and her visions of Jason. At first he appears to her as a normal little boy and then throughout the course of the film proceeds to gradually mutate into his more familiar monstrous form. Now firstly in the original movie, we are shown a flashback of Jason drowning and despite the brevity of the shot it is clear he was deformed then, so where on earth this normal Jason fits in is anyone’s guess. The implication seems to be that Rennie has some psychic connection to some deeply buried good side of Jason and that hulking killer we all know is some kind of revenge driven ghost. Yes, I know that sounds nutty but it’s the only thing I can think of to explain what we see on screen. Hedden has stated that the end where we see Jason seemingly transform back to a little boy is meant to represent his spirit going to rest, which sort of fits. I get the impression that this element of the film was meant to clear up the long standing questions over when Jason actually died, and how come if he died as a boy he reappears as a full grown psycho in Part II.

However none of it adds up – if Jason is some vengeance powered apparition, as his teleporting suggests, how come he has a body, which has been buried, sunk at the bottom of a lake and twice revived by electricity? While I applaud the attempt to make some sort of sense of the series’ mythos, it is done in such a way as to actually confuse matters further rather than clarify anything about Jason’s back-story. From the finale, you could be forgiven for thinking that as well as killing him, the toxic waste has caused him to physically regress in age. Indeed on my first exposure to this scene – I caught the second half on late night TV – I assumed that either a) the first half explained this or b) The New Blood - which I hadn’t seen at the time - had something to do with it or finally c) I’d had a bad pint down the pub and was now mildly hallucinating.

And if this wasn’t enough to contend with, there is also the utterly bonkers circumstances leading up to it. According this film, New York flushes its sewer system every night by pumping the afore-mentioned toxic waste through it. Yes, you did read that right! Flushes. Sewer system. With toxic waste. Every damn night. To CLEAN it!!! A large pint of WTF please barman! Considering that the New York Tourism Committee complained about the posters which featured Jason popping through the ‘I heart NYC’ logo, I’m amazed they didn’t sue when they saw the movie itself. One wonders why not … does Heddon know something we don’t?

At this point, I think we can safely say that the case for the prosecution now rests, and this flick is guilty as charged on numerous counts of Grievous Intellectual Harm, and Assault and Battery With A Deadly Weapon to whit the script. All that remains now is sentencing…

Now when watching horror flicks, you do not apply the same laws for assessing story credibility or narrative logic as one does when watching serious cinema. And when watching entries in the Friday 13th saga, we usually are not even apply a version said laws revised for the genre. After the first few entries, this franchise is operating in a bubble universe of its own making, complete with its own rules of cinema. And while the better films in the series, like the original, Final Chapter and Jason Lives, may be fit enough to survive outside this pocket critical environment, most do not. They may only be judged in relation to the following criteria - how cool is Jason, how spectacular are the deaths, is the acting competent rather than howlingly bad, and can you stand any of the characters for more than 10 seconds without wanted to machete off their heads yourself.

So then, is Jason cool is this flick? Well largely no. Kane Hodder stalks and looms well enough but the teleporting antics are frustrating and his look in this movie is frankly poor. After the superb bone-tastic Jason of The New Blood, this rendition just looks cheap - no visibly decay, just a bit of token tattering on his outfit, and mainly he just looks a bit soggy. And as for the unmasking scene, oh dear Lord! Not only does the toxic waste appear to possess the power to restore ones youth, it also has trans-species mutagenic properties too! For when the hockey mask comes off, it appears that Jason is now a melting albino chimp! Were they planning a cross-over with Planet of the Apes? Or was he trying to blend in Manhattan’s Muppet overlords?

In the absence of any sensible answers, let’s move on to the slayings. On the whole, they are fairly standard fare, nothing too shabby but possessing no real wow factor either. That is, apart from Julius’ death. Credit where credit is due, not only is this the best scene in the movie, but one of the best kills in the entire series – Jason literally knocks his block off, decapitating him with a single punch. It’s beautifully set up and executed; spectacular, very funny and a satisfyingly ironic end to Julius, one of the most annoying characters in the movie.

And speaking of which, I’ll also have to give some credit to the characters and acting. The script attempts to give our protagonists some depth and the performances are too bad either. Yes, Julius is a monstrous arse but I think he was meant to be. Jensen Daggett and Scott Reeves are pretty likeable as a leading pair, and special mention must be made of Peter Mark Rickman who has good fun hamming it up as the harsh and overprotective Uncle Charles. As well as chewing the scenery, he bears an uncanny resemblance to Jonathan Harris, in both looks and performance, which just adds to the fun – indeed, on the first viewing I was convinced I was watching Jason hunting down evil Dr Zachery Smith from Lost in Space.

But the trouble is despite trying to create proper characters, the script is so full of errant nonsense, they get very little to do that passes for basic common sense. Even Jason himself acts very out of character on a couple of occasions. As he normally slays anything or anyone in his path, it is somewhat perplexing him to see him seemingly rescue Rennie from those muggers fresh out of Clichéd Street Punk School. Similarly when he encounters the Times Square hoodlum wannabes, he scares them off by raising his mask. While it's understandably they'd leg it sharpish considering the terrifyingly poor make job lurking under there, and it's meant to be a funny scene, it's not nearly as hilarious if he’d kebabbed them all in one go.

And this is another major problem the film has; although there are flashes of humour, there are not nearly enough gags to indicate that we shouldn’t be taking anything that happens on screen too seriously. On the contrary, the stream of nonsense that is masquerading as a plot, with its psychic visions and psychological elements of Rennie’s story arc suggests that Heddon and co. set out to play this straight.

There was a decent concept behind the film which Paramount's budget cuts scuppered, and the script shows some signs that there were some interesting ideas that were mangled on route to the screen. But the problem is, Heddon is simply too competent a director to make the film so bad it’s unintentionally funny, which may be the biggest back-handed compliment I’ve ever given out. All of which adds up to a film that is very unsatisfying and the few good moments in it taunt you with what the movie could have been.

And this is the crux of the matter, Jason Takes Manhattan is just annoyingly bad rather than entertainingly so. It isn't directed with an ironic trash aesthetic which encourages us to laugh WITH the movie, nor is it such misbegotten dreck you can laugh AT it. Admittedly with a few beers, a few chums and an ample supply of Mystic Jim’s Patent Michaels Remover, you could enjoy this flick as a piece of comically bad cinema – but you will just be laughing NEAR the movie and have to supply most of the comedy yourself…