Showing posts with label John Cusack. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Cusack. Show all posts

Friday, February 05, 2016

Maps to the Stars

“Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those timid spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.” – T.R. Roosevelt


David Cronenberg is a great director.  From essential experiments like  Videodrome and Naked Lunch to mature and gripping crowd pleasers like The Fly, A History of Violence, Eastern Promises, the man has created a filmography that constitutes a must-see list for those who engage with film as an art form as serious as it is entertaining.  In short, David Cronenberg isn’t just cranking ‘em out and cashing checks.

So Maps to the Stars doesn’t quite work.  So it’s a bit too elliptical at some points, too on-the-nose at others.  So it’s 111 minutes spent with terrible people doing mean things to one another, with no audience-identification characters and no hint of levity to season the mix.  So it’s a miserable way to spend a couple of hours.


I’d still rather watch it than Ted 2.  Cronenberg’s daring a mighty thing with Maps to the Stars, tackling a tough story peopled with difficult characters and trying to make something of it.  Even if he doesn’t quite pull it off, I’d rather watch one of Cronenberg’s misses than many other filmmakers’ hits. 

Sunday, October 28, 2007

1408


1408 is my kind of horror movie. It isn’t about slashers or monsters or natural disasters. It’s about a good, old-fashioned haunting and the fear and foreboding that haunting is all about.

John Cusack delivers a first-rate performance as a jaded writer who pumps out quickie books / travel guides on haunted hotels. When he receives a mysterious postcard from the Dolphin Hotel warning him to not enter Room 1408, he takes it as a personal challenge. Soon he’s meeting hotel manager Samuel L. Jackson, who does his best to warn the writer off his project of spending a night in 1408. General note for living: when Samuel L. Jackson is afraid of something, your punk ass better be afraid of it, too.

But Cusack is undeterred, and into 1408 he goes. And then the haunting begins. From apparitions of the room’s many suicides to jump-scare shots of Clint Howard appearing out of nowhere (And hey, what isn’t more terrifying than having to share a hotel room with Clint Howard?) to a final showdown that makes us fear poor John might wind up like poor Jack from another Stephen King haunted hotel movie, 1408 does a marvelous job of keeping the viewer on edge, off balance, and delightfully scared.

I didn’t expect much from 1408, but I got the best mainstream haunting movie since THE OTHERS. What a pleasant surprise.