Dark Fantasy With Really Cold Weather: Russian Horror (part 1)

It took a while, but my survey of Russian horror is finally (mostly) complete. I didn’t intend for it to take so long, but Russian horror isn’t exactly easy to come by. 

There isn’t much written about it, and there is so very little Russian horror as it turns out. I almost gave up, to be honest. I feel like the hobbits returning to the Shire. But after paying a handsome sum to an old nun with a wooden leg and the monkey stopped giving me trouble, I was able to finally watch them for myself. 

Those Russians might finally be turning the tables recently, but it turns out that, up until the 1980’s, only one bonafide horror film was made in Russia. Just one. That’s pretty crazy when you think about it. But don’t take to Twitter and complain just yet. There’s a reason.

Russian cinema has traditionally been a late-starter during every major era. The first Russian film was made in 1908, long after trick films and chase films had already become staples elsewhere. 

It wasn’t until the first World War when the Russian film industry was finally making mostly Russian films, more than any time before or since. And for the next decade or two, Russian filmmakers were doing some crazy stuff. 

Like, I dunno, inventing the concept of montage. Explaining the mechanics of editing. Kuleshov. Kino-eye. You get the picture (no pun intended).

So the legacy of Russian cinema is well-established, but what about Russian horror? Why are there no zombies or space monsters or even ghost stories in Russia? You would think that horror would be a fitting genre for a culture known for its brooding and anxious nature.

Sorry to bother you. We're just looking for your horror movies.

Well, the main reason is politics. 

Because Soviet-era art was restricted to the ideology of atheistic, Marxist materialism, it didn’t leave much room for horror at all. Anything that made reference to the supernatural was off limits, as was pretty much any notion of the uncanny. 

Horror is also very personal, and includes attacks on the body and, in general, invasions of personal space. That is why so many horror stories feature domestic spaces like homes, bedrooms, bathrooms, schools, etc. But in Soviet Russia, the concept of personal space just didn’t exist, or at least wasn’t acknowledged publicly. 

It's just one song. Call Me Maybe... you heard it? Let me just
play it for you once. Just once, I promise. Oh come on.

Marxist materialism also didn’t have much room for the irrational in general, including abnormal psychology. Horror often features themes of insanity, depression, anxiety, paranoia, etc. To a Bolshevik, this would hardly be fit for entertainment. Horror also thrives on the imminence of uncontrollable chaos (think zombies), and to the order-loving Soviet mentality, this is also counter-productive.

But having said all that, the new film industry in Russia is a lot more like the one that existed before the Revolution. It is more Westernized, and every effort is being made to get Russians a seat at the world table. A lot of countries are doing this, actually, particularly in Asia. 

Be like Hollywood long enough to build your industry, then start telling your stories. It makes good economic sense, and it’s working. Just look at Hong Kong.

One of the first big blockbusters in post-Soviet Union Russia was, in fact, a horror movie. You might say they are gearing up for some really interesting changes in aesthetics, and I’m anxious as hell to see it. 

In Part 1, I’m just looking at the big-budget, mainstream films of the last decade. And get excited, because a few of them are in English. 

Night Watch (2004) and Day Watch (2006)

Subgenres: Dark Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Action

Night Watch and Day Watch tell the stories of two races of beings that once were at war with one another, but declared a truce that has lasted quite a long time. They have to keep each other from eating the humans, and an awful lot of effort is spent to convince one boy that he should be on one side or the other. 

It starts with a morally shocking opener: the protagonist paying a witch to curse his wife who is pregnant with another man’s child, and cause her to miscarry so that she doesn’t have to divorce him. That's pretty messed up, so already, we're into some really weird, moral territory. Some of the places the film goes from there are quite interesting, but the story suffers from being so damn confusing at times. 

The premise may be pretty straightforward, but the plot is a mess. In Ebert’s review of Night Watch, he wrote, “those who understand the plot of Night Watch should forget about the movies and get right to work on string theory.” That about sums it up, unfortunately.

But perhaps that’s not fair. The films suffer from being too many things at once. They’re not trying to be that original, at least not in the sense of doing anything new. It borrows from the Matrix, Star Wars, classic German horror films and many others. The plot is indeed exceedingly confusing, but the fun is in seeing Russian filmmakers show us what they are capable of. 

If you watch this movie, though, expect a somewhat mediocre story, with a few fun and memorable moments. The part involving something called the Gloom is really creepy and fun, as is the swirly vortex of literal chaos surrounding a woman that is cursed with bad luck. 

Not really that scary, because it’s more of an action-thriller with some horror-elements, but it’s a good throwaway popcorn flick. 

Viy (2014)
Subgenres: Dark Fantasy, Religious, Witchcraft

This move is a remake of the one and only Soviet-era horror film of the same name (which I will talk about in Part 2). The 2014 version is also loosely based on Nikolai Gogol's folk tale, though it is much more modernized. 

In fact, this movie tells a story that is very similar to the story of Russia's film industry. It begins with an Englishman that is sent into the East to map the territory, and he finds a small village that seems to be straight out of a storybook. Everyone in this town is predisposed to finding evil everywhere, not realizing they they, themselves, are being used as instruments of some devilish influence that seems to prefer things stay this way. 

You might say that this arrangement recalls the conditions for Soviet-era filmmakers that had to enlighten an audience that didn't want to be enlightened. There is such an atmosphere of fear and paranoia that Salem-esque scenario doesn't seem that far-fetched. 

The original plot involving a monk that reluctantly prays for three nights over a witch's body only takes up about twenty minutes of this film. The rest of the film is like all of the hypothetical stuff that might have led to the need for such a ritual to even happen. There are some truly scary parts of this film, mostly in the middle. Actually, though it is very rare to say, this is a film where the middle is probably the strongest. The exposition in the beginning is slow and sometimes confusing, and the ending might strike some viewers as being at best anti-climactic, and at worst cheating. 

This feels more like a Pirates of the Carribean film, with a little Pan's Labyrinth thrown in. My experience might have also been aided by a better translation, because the version I watched was badly subtitled, and even had some Russian dubbed over parts of the film that were clearly in English. Which reminds me: Tywin Lannister is in this movie (for all you GOT fans). 

Devil’s Pass

Subgenres: Found Footage, Survival, Sci-Fi

This might be the most fun I’ve had watching a found footage film. The Blair Witch Project had a good story, but wasn’t that scary, and it was nauseating to watch. A lot of found footage films are nauseating to watch, but this one really wasn’t. 

In Russia, there was a famous story involving the death of a group of hikers in the Northern Ural Mountains, in a place known as Devil’s Pass. This movie is the found footage recovered from some American film students that set out to investigate the disappearance on their own.

Now, if you can get over the premise of some unknown filmmakers from America going to ground zero of the Russian equivalent of Area 51, and you accept that, then this will be be a very enjoyable film for you. Get over that hump, and you’re there.

The characters are drawn very well, each with a distinct personality, and they are introduced to us in very interesting ways. One of them is seen for the first time while sitting in front of his editing station, hitting the space bar to play clips from an interview with a woman that is giving us the official story of what happened at Devil’s Pass. It cuts back and forth between her comments and his, conveying not just the information for the plot, but also tells us a good deal about him. This sort of scene also tells viewers like yours truly that they don’t intend to waste my time. I kinda like that.

From a found footage film standpoint, the film sticks to convention, but is smoother around the edges. For instance, the leader of the project is unsurprisingly accused of being the author of some of the hijinks that ensue, and it is believed that she is creating them on purpose for the film. Not an original trope, but it’s very effective.

This is a found footage film in which the footage is (thankfully, for a change) shot in HD. No more graininess or artifacts to add to the nausea. The locations in this film are really very beautiful, and watching it, you almost forget it’s a found footage film until the moments between takes when the characters speak candidly. 

It’s hard to tell a suspenseful story without at least some physical action, and revealing that action in a found footage film is a delicate balance. On the one hand, there’s the frustrating, migraine-inducing visual chaos that is the most likely real-life result of a camera operator trying not to get eaten, and on the other, the careful staging of the camera so that we see who gets eaten. If that sounds challenging, that’s because it totally is.

It’s also a challenge to explain why we’re seeing what we’re seeing, when most people would just turn the damn camera off. It’s what I would do if I was in a situation where I might get eaten, but that's just me.

The movie gets pretty scary in the second half, and it had a very satisfying ending for me, especially considering the fact that found footage films are notorious for having terrible endings. Can you name a found footage film that had a satisfying ending? The Blair Witch Project just sort of ends. Same thing with Paranormal Activity and Cloverfield. No ending.

So I definitely recommend this film. It doesn’t hit every note, but the finished song is more impressive than what has come before it.

I wish I could recommend the rest of these, but I don't really think I can. But in case they're your cup of tea...

Captivity 

Subgenres: Survival, Suspense, Body

I loved the look of this movie, with its gold and red palette, but not much else at all. Get a pretty American girl and put her into an unbelievable scenario that fails to create tension and, at least for this reviewer, has one of the most disappointingly predictable endings. It is in English, though, and you may like it if you like movies like Hostel. It’s pretty straighforward, but nothing to write home about.

Phobos - Club of Fear

Subgenres: Survival, Paranormal

This film chooses an amazing location in which to tell the story, but then it deprives the audience for a full hour of any action whatsoever. It fails to raise any stakes or give us any scares at all, then undermines the whole thing with a terrible ending. The WWII-era backdrop could have made this film promising, had it been better written and at least competently executed. Watch if you liked Final Destination, but don’t expect it to be as good.

Trackman

Subgenres: Slasher, Thriller, Survival

Another story that takes place in a great location and even has a promising and simple scenario, but it goes absolutely nowhere. The scenario involving some bank robbers at the mercy of a giant maniac in a subterranean sewer system eventually takes us through tedium and farce until we at last are rooting for the Trackman to just kill the characters already. It’s never a good sign when the villain is accidentally the good guy.

Stay tuned for Part 2, where I'll discuss some of the more artistic and underground horror films in Russia.

Self-Cannibalism, Fetus-Snatching and Unlucky Youngsters: The Horror of the New French Extremity

One day when I was eight, I brought a horror film to a birthday party that I was accidentally invited to. It was a VHS tape of The Puppet Master, and it was the first movie I ever bought with my own money. 

 

And the Oscar goes to...

That night, the film saved me from that dreaded stigma of not cool for at least a whole calendar year because everyone loved all the gory goods in the film (not to mention the nudity). I instantly became associated with cool movies no one else had.  

The Puppet Master is terrible, by the way. Oh God, is it awful. But the soundtrack will always bring me back to the first time a movie gave me chills. And how much fun it was.

I can’t tell you how much horror movies get geeky kids like my adolescent former self through childhood. They were essential to me, and I took them gleefully like they were gummy Flintstone vitamins.

The sorts of French horror films I reviewed for this blog really took me back to those days when the only rule was: the gorier, the better. It was forbidden and exciting for a boy who grew up in a house where my brother was forbidden to watch MTV with me in the room, which just meant I had to watch creepy Nine Inch Nails videos late at night when no one was home – making it all the scarier anyway.

But it hit me recently that I’ve never really done a survey of all of the many amazing, colorful and tasty styles of the genre I love so much.

There’s something extra special about horror made in other countries, and it’s a lot of fun seeing how naturally those countries develop a look and feel that’s unique to them. It must be like having a child, and seeing all of the ways in which they are like you and the ways they are like your spouse, but yet a person all his own. I can’t imagine what that must feel like.

And France is a very physical and personal mother, because as it turns out, body horror is par for the course in France.

This is me smiling.

Outside of the great French classics Eyes Without A Face (pictured above) and the Hitchcockian Les Diabolique, my knowledge of French horror has been limited. This is why I started with French horror: to experience a style I’ve never seen before.

It turns out that many of the horror films produced in France are part of a larger wave of recent art known as the New French Extremity. It’s characterized by ultra-violence, taboo storylines, often uncomfortable truths, and lots and lots of sex (erotic or not). It’s also considered a type of “transgressive” art, meaning, it focuses on transgressive behaviors that are normally off limits in polite conversation, like cannibalism and incest.

But perhaps a more poignant way of describing them is to call them confrontational. The French love to turn the tables on the audience and really put them through the ringer morally and psychologically, and it’s a tradition as old as the Marquis de Sade himself.

De Sade: The original sadist. Literally.

All but one of the films I looked at are body horror films. Some of them are what we in the States call torture porn, though fans sometimes prefer the nice-y term ‘survival horror.’ Call it what you like, I don’t enjoy what this genre has become in America.

In American survival horror, we’re asked to accept the torture as existing for it’s own sake. This might be why I don’t tend to care for American survival horror all that much. There’s no point to it. For example, Saw features some twisted villain who just “wants to play a game,” but there is no point to it. It really does live up to its title, torture porn. 

A movie like Videodrome, on the other hand, while featuring lots of torture and body horror, is at least about something. 

Cronenberg: Not a fan of antique TV sets.

It’s much more interesting when a film challenges me, rather that simply burns some ants under a magnifying glass and asks, “Are you not entertained?”

And the French films certainly challenge you, but that’s not the only reason it’s better. It’s less about watching torture and more about experiencing empathy, and asking questions about why the torture is happening. Or more importantly, why we want to watch it at all.

I love interacting with movies, even when they are hard to stomach. And the French are well aware of the interactive nature of art, even if it tends to lead to some really pretentious offerings. Sometimes they just don’t know when to stop speaking to the audience.

Still, most of these horror movies just tell the story, so that’s good. Above all, if you are looking for movies that are a little bit twisted and aren’t afraid to deliver on buckets of blood and guts and real good scares, check these out. 

I ranked them by my own preference because everyone knows that a list isn't worth squat if it isn't numbered in descending order.

6. Frontiere(s)

Frontiere(s) is the story of a group of friends who decide to take advantage of the riots and protests in Paris over the newly-elected, right-wing administration by staging a robbery. They all plan to head for the border and start a new life in Amsterdam, but they get separated. Two of them wait at a creepy inn for their friends, but they are soon held captive by what turns out to be a family of Neo-Nazis. Or at least, the patriarch of the family is a Nazi. It’s not clear who in the family is there by blood or by will.

This film might be a step up from American torture films in that it has a social and political edge to the film, which gives it purpose. The only problem is that it never really gets fleshed out. The story is very derivative and the characterizations are very one-dimensional. It’s basically The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in France. 

However, the look and sound of the film are wonderful, and there are a few genuinely good kills, with a pretty creepy performance by the father. The climax just sort of happens, though, and then the film just sort of ends, too. It’s good if you liked films like Saw and Hostel, and it’s one of the most accessible Extremity films for American fans of survival horror.

5. Them (Ils)

Them is a home invasion film similar to The Strangers, where a couple is terrorized by some random thugs who aren’t identified until the third act. At a mere 75 minutes, that sentence describes the entire plot, by the way. Not that this is a bad thing. 

It’s easily the most accessible to American audiences, and as a thriller, the film works wonders. Once the home invasion happens, it never lets up.

This film is the only film that is considered a part of NFE that I wouldn’t consider body horror. There is some maiming, sure, but there is very little gore at all. It is the film’s subversive twist in the third act that made it controversial, and because I love both this movie and all of you, I won’t spoil its very disturbing final shot. 

As a movie, it is fast and delivers a few thrills, but is not really that scary. Still, in the pandemonium that characterizes post-riot France, it is timely, quick and effective.

4. In My Skin

In My Skin is a very disturbing film. It tells the story of a woman who accidentally cuts her leg at a party one night, and after she decides not to allow her leg to heal, she begins a downward spiral of self-mutilation, from which we get little rest. 

She keeps the wound open, and throughout the film, as she gets a promotion and her boyfriend decides to take their relationship to the next level, she cuts herself frequently and severely, and even begins eating her own flesh. That’s right: leave it to the French to make self-cannibalism a mainstream topic!

I’m not gonna lie: this is not an easy film to watch, especially if you’ve known anyone who has been a cutter. It doesn’t even feel like a horror film, though, even with the many truly horrific scenes. I’m so used to seeing a victim and some outside evil force acting on that victim, and having empathy for that victim as a result. It must be the American in me. But there’s no getaway moment here, and no demon or monster to kill. It is agonizing as a viewer, but that is also the beauty of the film. 

This dissonance is most evident in the moments where the manic and tense anxiety of the film’s atmosphere are briefly tempered only when she is peacefully and gleefully gnawing on her arm like a cat giving herself a bath. That’s the only time the intensity settles, and it’s those moments we’re supposed to be the most horrified.

Sometimes, there is no relief. This isn’t a ride, it’s a living nightmare. I think that’s the point, though. It’s about being inside the skin of someone who only knows inner peace when they disconnect from the reality of their self-destructive actions. 

The only thing the film doesn’t really do, in all of its craftiness, is explain why she’s doing it. There are a lot of things that are hinted at, but there is never a moment of clarity. But this is a small blemish on an otherwise powerful film.

3. High Tension (Switchblade Romance in USA)

High Tension might be the most famous example of modern French horror in America. Like Them, once it starts, it never lets up. But unlike Them, there are many deaths, and they are pretty brutal. 

The story moves along very quickly, and the stakes are high enough that I had genuine empathy for the characters. The most interesting thing for me, though, was the atmosphere. 

I’m a sucker for atmosphere in movies, so you do feel quite involved during this film. The whole first thirty minutes or so is especially heart-wrenching, and pulls you into the film immediately.

But there is one downside to this film, and it’s a big one: the twist at the end. It creates plot holes big enough to make M. Night Shaymalan look like Alfred Hitchcock. It also uses the ‘forbidden lesbian love’ cliché, and lays it on pretty darn thick at the end. But aside from those problems, this was a pretty enjoyable film, if a bit disappointing.

2. Martyrs

The first thing I thought after watching Martyrs was that it is the natural conclusion to all of the questions lurking behind the public’s fascination with the torture genre. 

This movie takes the whole genre by the horns and looks for a soul, and it asks pretty tough questions about why the genre even exists at all. The nihilist interpretation of this film, I feel, is miscalculated. This movie is actually an anti-torture film.

The film opens with a girl covered in blood and gashes who is running away from a warehouse in her underwear, screaming. The last image of a movie like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is where this one chooses to begin, as if to say, “you’ve seen this before, now let’s keep going.” Then, a nice family breakfast with some total strangers fifteen years later is interrupted by the same girl, who then blows them all away – including the children.

Right off the bat, the film starts telling a different story. She calls her best friend up and tells her what she did, and when her friend shows up, she is appalled. The girl thinks she killed the people who tortured her years ago, but her friend think she’s killed the wrong people. And we’re not sure either, on account of the girl seeing things that don’t exist.

I won’t give too much else away because I can’t recommend the film highly enough, but the question of whether she’s gone crazy and if this is what the film is really about (i.e. that torture makes people crazy) leads instead to even darker questions. 

At one point when we finally have a character imprisoned and being tortured in front of us, there is no music. We’re also offered no hope that she will escape. She is tortured in one short scene after another, each time fading to black and then fading back in. It is as if the audience is also having its lights knocked out, literally, until finally we are deprogrammed.

I think that is the point of this film: Why on earth would anyone want to see this? 

Given the way the film ends, which I won’t spoil here because it’s just that good, it would seem that we are the reason this poor girl is being tortured. She’s a martyr for us, the audience. She endures it all so that we may experience transcendence through the film and through her. It’s kinda like the cultists in Cabin in the Woods who torture the pretty young people to appease the Ancient Ones, even though, in reality, they are doing it to please us – the voyeuristic and sadistic audience. Even since the days of Aristotle, drama has placed sacrificial lambs before us to be slaughtered, and the morality of this is still debated to this day. Martyrs is merely self-aware.

1. Inside (A L’intereur)

As good as Martyrs was, Inside is the crown jewel of French Extremity horror, at least for me. It’s also just a damn good horror film. I think there’s probably a political message hidden in there somewhere, but if it’s there, it’s the least interesting part of this fantastic film.

The story is simple: after a pregnant schoolteacher loses her husband in a car accident, a mysterious woman shows up to claim the teacher’s unborn child as her own. It turns out she was in the same car accident, was also pregnant, but lost her child. So there you have it: a twisted sort of premise that – were it a struggle for a baby and not a fetus – might not actually be that uncommon in film or in life. But I don’t think any of them went to such lengths that they were willing to literally rip it out of another woman’s body.

Nevertheless, as simple as the story is, it’s really the execution that makes it all work. Beatrice Dalle (also in Livid and Trouble Every Day, which are two French horror films I have yet to watch) gives an amazing performance as the woman in black, whose own pain at the loss of her own child, is just as real. The fact that we understand why she’s doing it means that we know she’s determined. And that makes it even scarier.

As other people begin to show up, the death toll not-surprisingly rises, but it’s the manner and timing that really keeps you on the edge of your seat. The film constantly delivers lots of really scary moments, and all of the actions are simple, practical and believable.

Oh, and did I mention the pregnant woman? Most of the women I know would probably equate pregnancy to being like it’s own survival horror movie, and it strikes me as strange that no one ever thought to do a horror movie where the heroine is going into labor at the same time she’s trying to not be cut up into pieces. Maybe no one was that cruel, but even Peter Jackson’s zombie baby has nothing on this kind of twisted.

This movie is one of the genuinely scariest movies I’ve seen in a long time, with a premise and ending that is totally twisted, and it does not spare any expense in the gore department. 

Even though, like almost all of the French horror films I’ve listed, it is totally serious, with little to no comic relief, it is still one of the most fun and enjoyable horror movies I’ve ever seen. I’ll never forget the experience of watching this film, and the times I thought, “Holy crap, I can’t believe that just happened.” Not for the faint of heart, but definitely a must-see for horror fans everywhere.

Gravity is a Timely Dose of Human Triumph

Make no mistake, we are living in a time of renaissance for science fiction. Alfonso Cuarón (Children of Men) has directed one of the most impressive sci-fi films about space since Apollo 13. While some professional astronauts have picked the film apart for inconsistencies, others, like Buzz Aldren, couldn’t have been more thrilled to see a film like Gravity.

Not fifteen minutes into the film, the sense of poetic normalcy of seeing astronauts doing their thing 300 miles above the earth is shattered by the sort of plausible catastrophe that represents the cost that space travellers pay for that beauty. It is also filmed as one, continuous 13-minute shot. Much of the film, in fact, involves long, hypnotic shots. It has the effect of always experiencing the danger from a single point of view, one that seamlessly shifts from global to intimate in a matter of seconds. This choice of cinematic style is a stroke of genius in a film filled to the brim with other visionary techniques that also help us identify with the protagonist.

When a Russian missile test destroys a Russian satellite, sending debris racing through the void towards the team, the story begins. And it doesn’t let up until the very last minutes. The disaster sends medical engineer and rookie Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) and veteran Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) adrift in space, and all this without that seemingly obligatory scene we might have had to endure in another, more conventional approach to the film – the scene where the two characters bond, where back-story and other exposition is established.

But we learn just as quickly that this exposition is unnecessary. What we have are two people in outer space, who have to deal with a bad situation. That’s it, that’s all you need to know.

As a result, we learn about these characters by watching how they react, as we should. And because the danger is so compelling and believable, the characters become real. This is the glue that makes this film work. Had it been more character-oriented, it would have betrayed the visual potential. If it had gone the other way (as most films do), it would not have left an impression on anyone in the audience, and the lowered stakes would have made for a lackluster experience.

I can’t say it enough. Every so often, a movie comes along that is so ambitious in its objectives that, when it becomes successful, reminds us that there are still stories left untold. From IndieWire: 

"Four years in the making, "Gravity" presents an artificial world that could only have been made today, and provides a fantastic showcase of new possibilities."

There are many ways of seeing the world through which our eyes are not accustomed to seeing. The nauseating servings of filmmakers like Michael Bay leave many movie-goers cynical about the future of film, because they think that the special effects potential afforded to us by every new wave of technology is only making things worse. They are getting sick of the light shows, literally.

Gravity transcends all that. So many moments in the film seem so familiar, yet they feel fresh. It is as if, in so many of these moments, you could just as easily imagine another director doing a piss-poor job of the very same scene you are watching. You’ve seen it so many times before, the clichés and the pandering. This is the moment when X character has a heart-to-heart with Y character, and “finds” herself.

But in Gravity, these moments work. They work because they don’t feel forced or contrived. They are not like checkpoints in the screenplay, and the action also doesn’t feel calculated. It feels random, chaotic. Just like Space. This is not a character-driven story, or even a plot-driven story (not in the sense that conventional plot points used by other genres – like, say, detective stories – rely upon them). This is almost physics-driven. The action is bourn out of the chaos of Nature, and the struggle of our heroine through this onslaught is what brings about the drama.

As a result, character is revealed. For example, when a major piece of back-story is revealed about Stone near the end of the film, not only does it make complete sense (explaining her reactions throughout the movie), it also feels somehow irrelevant. Whereas in other films dealing with marooned astronauts faced with typical feelings like loneliness and madness, we seldom have the time to dwell on it. And when we do, even Stone doesn’t react in a predictable way. In fact, she takes us places we never would have thought to go.

The buzz generated around the special effects are well-deserved, and an equal share of praise should go to the script, but any review of the film would be incomplete without mentioning the power of the film’s music. Picking up where Kubrick left off, Gravity takes the lack of sound in space to great, poetic heights.

When we see Stone in the foreground fixing a problem outside the ship’s hull, while debris begins to ruthlessly shred and destroy a station behind her, the lack of sound effects is oddly unsettling. The music almost acts as a guide to the visual horror we are witnessing, and even the design of the music seems to mimic the sirens and the engines that otherwise would be heard.

Aside from the few moments inside one station or another, the only sound effects we hear (besides the dialogue we hear throughout) is mostly vibrations. The low-frequency sounds we hear through the space suit makes the danger we witness visually all the more disturbing. But wherever the character struggles, despairs or triumphs, the music guides us. We become adrift ourselves, tethered only by the raw emotion of the characters. We want to be with them, because we relate to nothing else. This was Gravity’s signature accomplishment: humanizing man’s precarious relationship with the infinite.

Katy Perry Wants Your Soul

I’ve wanted to write a piece about Katy Perry for some time, but haven’t found just the right way to express just how vile I think she is. Words can’t describe how perfectly she embodies the moral decay of our society.

Katy Perry wants to have the message and the level of importance that the Spice Girls had in the 90’s, but she’s completely missing the point.

Too many of her fans are duped into believing she is an icon of personal growth, and through her, they get to live vicariously through a woman of such self-importance, she has Barbara Streisand praying for deliverance.

She and many like her in today’s entertainment profess to inspire your uniqueness and your humanity, but end up succeeding in exactly the opposite. People like Katy Perry, while pretending to be humanitarian and thoughtful, actually undo every thread of your humanity by externalizing your worth.

They are soulless and without Spirit, in every sense of the term.

In the end, you are nothing but an animal, and females especially are still nothing more than objects armed merely with the skill of manipulation. If you pay attention, this is the real message.

FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO STARDOM

Imagine my surprise when the same Katy Hudson I had been listening to in my religious high school days was the same Katy Perry I’d come to loathe. It’s surprising because of how good her Christian album actually was compared to all of the Christian music that was out at the time (not to mention the stuff she’s put out recently).

And she was only fifteen.

Nowadays, however, she has become an ego-stroking succubus that is fueled by your need to feel better about yourself (especially if you are 25 and under). She will shamelessly pander to you and tell you that you are super-awesome, unconditionally. She will tell you what you want to hear. She is super-cereal.

All pop music does this, but it’s different with her. Good pop music simply mirrors real human emotions and experiences you’ve already had. You hear it, and you go, “Yes! I’ve felt that before, I know what that’s like.”

When you hear songs like “What Becomes of the Broken Hearted,” or, “Stand By Me,” there is no doubt that it is describing a genuine emotion or moment. Everyone connects to it.

I believe these songs have this effect because they have real human spirit. They can’t be called juvenile or frivolous because they are tapping into something much bigger, much more universal. More pure.

The best art has always done this.

Katy Perry’s music may be self-expressive, but it lacks this spirit. It lacks heart.

If you don’t believe me, watch as I compare her to another pop icon from the 90’s, whose career has unfortunately tanked.

           
She is not the one you think about when you think of maturity, but she has more of it than Katy Perry will ever have. I’m talking about the wonderful Natalie Imbruglia (...yes, that Natalie Imbruglia).

THE AUSTRALIAN INVASION

            
Her career, in many ways, is like the polar opposite of Katy Perry. She has become increasingly mature in her lyrical content and character, yet her popularity has decreased dramatically. 

           
Despite the fact that much of her subject matter is the same (sex, self-image, nostalgia, etc.) and many of their videos are almost identical, the messages they send couldn’t be farther apart.

           
The only thing most people my age remember about Natalie Imbruglia was that one song where she’s really sad that was super catchy for about six months. They don’t remember that she actually had five hits off of her first album (which included a wonderful collaboration with Portishead), and that her career continued.

            
Much of that album was the unsurprising substance of a self-deprecating twenty-something girl whose been dumped on plenty enough to make you wonder when she’d get a clue.

           
I chalk it up to the spirit of the nineties, and I cannot say if it was genuine or not. What I do know is that if a girl was to learn how to respect and love herself honestly, you would expect it to be reflected in the evolution of her art and the kinds of stories she speaks to. Most importantly, you would see maturity.

           
I see this with Natalie Imbruglia. I do not see this with Katy Perry.

           
When Katy Perry was Katy Hudson, she was a fifteen-year-old powerhouse of vocal talent that was singing songs from the heart. It was the heart of a child that was really struggling to reconcile her Christian beliefs with a world that seemed destined to see her fail.

It is not unlike the story of any non-Christian child as well, and even her contralto singing style sounded a bit too sultry for some Christian radio stations which refused to even play it.

           
It was soulful and honest, and nothing like the Jesus-Why-Are-You-So-Awesome one-note symphony of every Christian song that existed, then and now.

           
But now, Katy Perry is nobody.

           
She abandoned those roots and started singing songs about disrespecting the very men on whom she’s grown to depend for her fragmented sense of self-worth.

None of her songs suggest that your uniqueness and your beauty are not determined by external forces and need no approval from others, which is the reality. They don’t promote personal responsibility or human decency, and many of them are just downright mean.

           
Just look at a few examples...

  

One note before I begin my analysis: I’m not talking about talent or quality here. Both women are clearly talented, and I recognize the catchiness of Katy Perry’s music. I likewise don’t believe Natalie’s decline in popularity has much to do with the merits of her music, nor is that going to be a subject of discussion here. I’m simply comparing two very different messages regarding very similar topics. 

"Last Friday Night"

Wreckless, immature and irresponsible actions are necessary for fun.

Like all of the following examples, note how the message in this very similar song and video contrasts with that of Natalie's:

"Wild About It"

A good attitude and good company is all you need for fun.

You’ve met the girl who doesn’t know how to communicate to another hominid unless it’s to regale him or her with stories of her last weekend bender. Smart things bore her, and if you wanna get on her level at all, you better stop caring about things and start caring about her and her careless activities.

            

That’s Katy Perry in a nutshell.

            

It’s the same story as Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance.” Pay no attention to the million ways in which your behavior may find you raped or killed, and don’t listen to anyone who might wish you to reconsider.

             

It’s very uncool, after all, for your parents to get mad when they find half-naked men in your room.

             

And if you are the homely unpopular girl that no one would ever actually talk to in REAL life to save a small child’s life, just know that blackouts will get you into the party where the fun happens, and you will have the beauty and popularity of Ms. Perry herself. It’s practically her money-back guarantee.

             

And unpopular kids who know this isn’t true will follow suit anyway, believing that their success lies in endlessly demonstrating your poor decision-making skills to those who never have and probably never will give a rat's patoot about you.

             

Katy’s convinced them that this is how you REALLY make friends.

             

The message of immaturity is not just a nit-picky token, taken away merely by old persnickety curmudgeons with nothing better to do. It is the bread and butter of the Katy Perry brand, and you don’t need to be a cane-wielding old fart to see it.

              

The Katy Perry slogan should be: “Irresponsibility, always.” It should be tattooed on her arm, in fact. I would respect her more for it.

             

And the only thing better than recklessness to have fun is lots and lots of money…

"Waking Up In Vegas"

I need men to bankroll my carelessness and my excessively expensive tastes. If they tell me no, I just attack their manhood.

"Glorious"

Joy is a state of being that can't be bought, and it's best when shared.

There’s no problem with an innocent little song about having a little fun, even if that involves Vegas. Hell, I used to live there, I should know.

             

If it centers on fun with friends, like Natalie’s, the video could be breakfast with the president for all I care. But there’s more to “Waking Up In Vegas” than that.

             

First of all, even after living in Vegas for two years, even I didn’t have as much fun as she has in that video. If you’ve ever been to Vegas, you learn rather quick: it’s expensive! The sickeningly glamorous time she has is unrealistic even for a local, and that’s sort of the point.

            

Much literature has been written about women who have unrealistic ideals in media and fashion to which they constantly compare themselves, and now with digital models being used more and more to sell clothing, those ideals are becoming increasingly unreasonable. For this reason I don’t have to belabor the point.

             

The belief that the key to happiness is a rich man is unrealistic. That every girl should demand it is also very juvenile.

             

I suppose if you’re still living out your life like you thought it should be lived when you were a teenager, then Katy Perry would make a lot of sense to you.

           

She probably does make sense to a lot of teenagers who don’t know that mutual respect is actually necessary for every relationship. Who’d’a thunk it?

             

Unfortunately for them, Ms. Perry doesn’t even think sex is all that special, and she’s not all that classy about it either.

"Teenage Dream"

My standard for sexual intelligence is a spurious juvenile fantasy.

"Beauty on the Fire"

My standard for sexual intelligence is a moment of pure joy and ecstasy.

Natalie is most certainly not the first to write a song about sex and will not be the last. Her song is not groundbreaking, but it is leagues ahead of Katy in its maturity of the subject matter.

             

Perry’s video, for example, uses the same metaphor – the ocean – but also blatantly shows the sex. As if it wasn’t clear, a motel room was picked out and a hot young obviously-not-teenage stud has his way with the presumably teenage Katy Perry.

             

At least I think she’s a teenager in the video.

             

That part is really confusing.

            

It says that the best feeling a girl can have is to feel the way she felt before she knew what being treated like a piece of meat really meant. It was a time when you are anxious as hell to give away that which should demand the most respect from the other. It is not a frivolous deed, especially when you are 16.

             

When the song speaks of “no regrets,” it overlooks the obvious reality of winding up preggers, too. It muddies an already cloudy pool known as sex, but leaves the impression that the water is actually quite clear. It’s about feeling alive, so says the song.

             

If you think I’m making a mountain out of a mole-hill, then tell me why so much stock was placed by her and her producers in this teenage fantasy? It wasn’t just a song, it was a single upon which her second album was titled.

             

It’s pretty big, and her demographic (teenagers) shows it. Not to mention the fact that it is the actual image of a teenage, stardom-bound Katy, which serves as the poster for Katy Perry’s new concert film.

             

Dreamy-eyed teens are a cash cow for Katy, so it definitely makes a difference what she’s saying about teens and sex.

             

“Teenage Dream” and “I Kissed A Girl” are the songs that started her pop career, so it’s kind of a big deal.

            

 I don’t think approaching sex as a teenager would is very meaningful or smart at all.

            

Sex is a powerful thing that wise men and women have puzzled over for millennia. It’s not a joke, even if it could be likened to one – it shouldn’t be explained, just experienced.

             

Immature lessons about sex would be bad enough, but that says nothing of the damage done when she knowingly exploits it…

"California Gurls"

Basing your self-worth on the uncontrollable sexual impulses of weak men is fun!

"Want"

Basing your self-worth on the uncontrollable sexual impulses of weak men is definitely NOT fun.

I’m not sure why you’d ever want to cheat on Natalie Imbruglia, but the point is pretty clear: If you make yourself an object to a man, that is what you will be to him. And that ruins the lives and dignity of everyone involved.

            

Maybe no one has informed Katy that she will never have a true friendship with a straight male, and maybe she likes it that way. All I know is that I have several attractive female friends who hate the fact that men only seem to be nice for one obvious reason, yet still the women play into it always. Society tells them to.

             

Katy Perry tells them to.

             

Your worth is your ability to turn heads. If you can’t do that, you’re nobody. Go cry somewhere if you can’t.

             

But hey, if you’re going to destroy the self-worth of everyone involved, at least enjoy yourself while you’re at it! After all, no one has the right to tell you that you can’t! Right?

             

Wrong.

            

You know that you’re worth more than that, and men deserve better than a sex object as well. They deserve a woman who doesn’t use her body as a pawn in some game, and they certainly shouldn’t bother themselves with a woman who doesn’t know her own worth.

             

And why, ladies, like all other things, do you have to prove this one thing to anyone?           

             

Whether others find you attractive or not, this is not where you should place your worth at all.

             

The world can tell you if you are good-looking, but it can’t tell you if you have goodness in you. That is something you must learn internally.

             

The message Katy Perry seems to be sending is this: Not only are you allowed to be a terrible person, you should force the world to tell you that you’re awesome anyway.

           

Even her most innocent-sounding and seemingly positive song has this hidden assumption…

"Firework"

Your struggle is external and you have everything to prove to everyone.

"That Day"

Your struggle is internal, and your humanity needs to be proven to no one but yourself.

See the difference?

            

There are some things that need to be proven to others. Your ability to drive a car, for example. Or your ability to sing or do long division.

             

But your humanity is not one of them.

             

I don’t think Katy Perry is talking about humanity at all. Everything is a contest with her, as you’ve seen from these few examples.

           

In “Hot and Cold,” she all but beats a guy into submission (with baseball bats, no less) because he’s not man enough to make a decision. “Ur So Gay” is one of the meanest songs she’s ever written, and even her breakout hit – “I Kissed a Girl” – flaunts a petty experiment with the same sex like it’s a status symbol.

             

It is not an important or emotional act of self-discovery, it is just an immaterial checkpoint in a game of spurious value, made all the more petty by her need to mention the discarded feelings of her current partner.

             

Everything is rivalry, manipulation and ego with Ms. Perry, it never goes deeper than that. If it did, she might not have needed to stray much from the progress she’d already made spiritually, back before she decided: “To hell with internal growth. The world for the modern female is just Machiavellian manipulation through sexuality, nothing more.”

             

So when she sings, “Make ‘em go oh oh oh,” I think this is what she means. You need to make sure that everyone accepts you – no exceptions! Never mind that this is not how the real world works. 

            

Why does she feel the need to show us a boy with cancer, or a girl who's afraid to jump in the pool because of her weight? These are external identifiers, and Katy Perry doesn't know how to assess value in any other way. 

            

How about a church-goer? Or a father trying to get joint custody of his kids from a woman whose been badmouthing him? How about a gazillion other ways in which identity and worth are established that have nothing at all to do with the physical self.

            

Externalizing your worth is dangerous.

            

If you don't believe me, try watching the video with the sound off. The finale looks not much different than a PCP-infused Occupy Wall Street riot. 

            

You convince enough people that their worth depends on their willingness to take action and force their sense of self-worth and identity onto others, even if those actions are drastic and violent, and you start to see how that "spark" of which she speaks looks a lot less like Spirit and more like TNT. 

            

I might have thought I was reading too much into it, but when you look at the whole of Katy Perry's career, it makes perfect sense.

             

To make the point extra clear, here’s one more example.

"Part of Me"

You will not change me, and to prove it I will completely change my entire life.

Now contrast that message with another pop singer, whose message is just as mature and wholesome as Natalie's...

"Stronger"

I can accept change by being true to myself, and that is why I'm a better person.

Kelly Clarkson is the steak to Katy Perry’s tofu, pure and simple. Kelly gets it, Katy doesn’t. No other way to say it.

             

Kelly makes her millions just like any other, and I don’t begrudge her that success. She’s earned it, and I don’t care what anyone says.

             

She also represents what soulful pop music has always done: vicariously transforming hearts and minds for the better through music.

             

Sure people are being validated through Katy Perry as well, but her message is not one that transforms for the better. These two videos should illustrate once and for all the real difference between a good, soulful message and one driven by ego.

That all of your actions are oriented around proving your humanity (or any part of your identity) to others is very juvenile. To admit that you have been hurt (something the ego is not keen to do), and that you were changed by someone who maybe never cared about you at all (i.e. The World), is not betraying your humanity at all. It is recognizing it.

             

If you've ever been betrayed by someone, you know what it's like. To trust someone is to have faith that they see in themselves what it takes to be kind and respectful to others. 

If you live your life as if relationships are simply a game, where you must get one over on the other before they hurt you, you will never know love at all. There is much love in Kelley's video, not so much in Katy's.

One is fueled by self-respect and the other is fueled by petty antagonism. Can you guess which is which?

            

It’s the same song, but informed by two different philosophies. One says you don’t ever have to change, unless you can say that the change was always a “part of you” to begin with. The other simply acknowledges the change for what it is and rejoices in the triumph of becoming a better person.

SO NOW THEN...

What all of these examples show is that real growth and maturity comes from within. It is a process that does not exclude the outside world, but synthesizes it with an already beautiful inner landscape waiting to be cultivated.

You can build up that universe inside you for its own sake, and not for any reason that the world gives you.

             

You have two options.

             

You can nurture the light within you by feeding it, and not your ego. You can recognize that your worth is not defined by the world but by the spirit within.

            

 Or you can remain ignorant of how best to utilize your inner strength. You can reduce your body to a mere sexual object instead of seeing it as a vessel of light, and you can place priority on ideals that are unrealistic at best and shameful at worst.

             

You can do this and stifle that light within you, if you choose. You will become a pestilence on the world, like Katy Perry. You will forever encourage others to act as entitled as you feel to undeserved offerings and praises from a world you seek to control.

             

You will do this, but you will find in the end that you have put out the only fire you possessed which made you a human being in the first place.

             

PS: Katy, if you are reading this and you still don’t get it, maybe this song will help: