By Roy Mathur, on 2021-11-11, at 23:51:57--00:47:53, for Captain Roy's Rocket Radio Show, Listen
From now on, expect spoilers, particularly for the main topic covered in the show. There will be no more warnings, because, much as YouTubers are fond of saying, "without further ado", constantly saying the same thing is redundant.
You know what else I hate? Trigger warnings. This podcast is marked explicit at the root level of the feed. Every episode should be considered for adults, not just because the occasional rude word, but because of the content.
Consider this the last spoiler and trigger warning you'll ever hear.
Frankly, horrible, in all senses of the word, and in all different directions.
I showed my mother Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle's 1929 on-film interview again recently. Her reaction? He's very Scottish. It's funny, because Holmes and Watson are so English; it's easy to forget that their creator isn't.
The pre-Spiritualism part of the interview, as he chats about Sherlock, is delightful; Doyle charms the camera.
The Haunting of Bly Manor is a horror TV series on Netflix by Mike Flanagan released last year. After a wedding reception, an older woman spins a tale for the other guests relaxing near roaring fireplace in a spooky old hotel, and I'm hooked... The story is about an au pair minding a couple of very strange, grief-stricken, children in a spooky old country house.
The show is atmospheric and one of those classic old-fashioned ghost stories: a horror cosy, if you will. It is warming, comfortable as old slippers. My only real criticism is some of the "interesting" English accents, and that ever pervasive idea amongst outsiders of a quaint, theatrical, though at least diverse, version of merry olde Englande. The accents, though? Presumably, this is because, as with most of Flanagan's work, he is working to a tight budget, as you'll find out from my review of Midnight Mass. Restless spirits, creepy dolls, and witchcraft abound, so it's perfectly alright, rather than perfectly splendid. That's an in-joke. Why do I have to explain that? This is a solo podcast, so I'm bantering with myself. Oh god. Now I'm writing my own banter.
The show is the latest of the many adaptations of Henry James's ghost story, Turn of the Screw. It's a classic work of literature I've had on my geek radar for a while, but have not yet read, so this is a good introduction. I am currently watching it, but apart from this snippet, do not expect me to talk about it to the degree of my upcoming review of Midnight Mass, also by Mike Flanagan.
Midnight Mass is a 7 episode TV horror series created and directed by Mike Flanagan, produced by Intrepid Pictures, and released on Netflix on 24 September 2021.
Flanagan's filmography stretches back at least 20 years and has included the film Oculus and the TV series The Haunting of Hill House, both of which I enjoyed and talked about on this pod. He is also making series based on Christopher Pike's (Kevin Christopher McFadden) The Midnight Club and Edgar Allan Poe stories. I am a fan of both those authors, have read their work, and again, have talked about it in this podcast.
After serving a sentence for a fatal traffic accident, prodigal son returns to the family home in a remote fishing community, on a sparsely populated island.
The deeply religious Roman Catholic community was, until recently, led by an elderly priest, until his sabbatical to Israel, and his replacement by a young and charismatic priest. He brings with him to the island a heavy, coffin-sized box, which, when knocked upon, elicits an answering knock. The priest quickly insinuates himself into the lives of his parishioners, cementing his standing with a miracle. There are of course, no miracles, unless you include the existence of vampires, which is the source of the priest's power.
During the course of the series, the priest gathers followers, isolates the island, and prepares his disciples to spread forth the word/infection to the mainland, with only a few to oppose him.
The series heads to a denouement familiar to connoisseurs of the genre; bloodshed, running, screaming, and fire.
Let's get this out of the way immediately. This film is derives most of it's lore from just about every vampire media every produced. Here are some of the references, though I'm sure there're more: John Farris's Fiends, Stephen King's Salem's Lot and The Night Flier, Bram Stoker's Dracula, John Ajvide Lindqvist's Let the Right One In, 30 Days of Night, Blade, and tragic real events like the Jim Jones Kool-Aid massacre, etc.
Diversity was acceptable and shown in the non-white faces in the crowd; extras mostly, but there was also a fairly realistic representation of minorities in the main cast. There is a Muslim sheriff, a disabled girl, and a lesbian doctor. I must say, as a minority person, who has occasionally found themself in a similar situation to the sheriff, I found the uncomfortable scenarios (i.e. blatant racism) accurate.
I didn't like the religious and mostly bigoted islanders, which meant I had a limited investment in their fate.
I liked the talkie dialogue; something I usually hate. That says a lot for the content and quality of Flanagan's team's writing. The priest's eloquent sermons and the protagonist's monologue about death are standout examples.
Creature design was average-to-poor. The creature's long, clawed hands were ridiculous as you could see the bulgy, ill-fitting prosthetic finger-tips. On the other hand, the creature attack effects were excellent. I was thoroughly taken aback by its speed and ferocity.
There's an annoying scene of the island on fire, from distance, that is obviously a still. Damn those FX budgets.
A few aspects of the story don't make sense. Why would the creature---hiding out in a cave in the populous Holy Land; bordering many other countries---find it advantageous to move to an isolated island from whence to start its invasion? Also, with all that power and aeons of experience, why isn't it running the whole shebang? Is this particular immortal an idiot? It would have to be to want to move to Redneck Island. Finally: Oh dear me, I'm a vampire, the sunrise is deadly to my kind, but there are no buildings to hide under. Whatever am I to do? Seriously? Does this stupid island not come equipped with shovels?
I appreciated the couple of shock moments---nothing as cheap as jump scares---where the whole narrative pivots. For example, when key characters, including the protagonist, die unexpectedly.
As horror media, I found the series to be engaging, though not something I feel the need to revisit.
Luckily, however, after boxseting the entire series over two nights, I see it more as a philosophical and spiritual musing on the process of death, rather than a horror TV show encompassing every vampire trope ever. You see this in a couple of monologues on the subject from the protagonist and his love interest. One in particular, is a rationalist, science-based explanation that is nevertheless, poetic, purple, and very beautiful. Mike and James Flanagan, and the whole writing team, are to be complimented. To a lesser extent, the show is also about religious fundamentalism---particularly Christian evangelism---but it is the meditation on death that snagged me in its net.
I was going to compliment solely Mike Flanagan for the script, as he is credited as the writer/creator/director, but in a Tweet from him dated 23 September he thanks a team, including his brother and other writers. This was confirmed by a visit to IMDB.
It makes me wonder about the source of the incredible monologues. Were they from him, or is there one or more particular writers producing this amazing content? Usually I don't get too into the depths of who wrote exactly what because I'm more interested in the overall story, but because I am a writer myself, I felt drawn to the unique dialogue of this series.
In that same Twitter thread, he also mentions the respect he has for religion (presumably Roman Catholicism), despite the scathing portrayal of the most unpleasant character on the show: Bev Keane (Samantha Sloyan).
Because of my rather unique upbringing---I was a combo of Ali and Warren, i.e. a non-Christian server in the Church of England, until it became too weird to continue---I have great familiarity with all the ceremony and the behind-the-scenes mechanics of running a church. I also remember the content and the cadence of priests' droning sermons, the hymns, the artless Sunday School-style piano playing ("Sunday School for vampires"; not relevant, I just like the sound of that), etc. It left me with an odd sense of conflicted nostalgia.
As a Canadian citizen and ex-resident of BC, the British Columbia filming locations struck me with a little nostalgia too. In this case, it was a set built in Garry Point Park, Richmond. But then, many American shows and movies are filmed in BC because it's cheap and you get to pay less tax.