Film Fests
[REVIEW] Fantastic Fest 2024: One Unfortunate Artistic Choice Sours Otherwise Strong Doc ‘The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee’
The use of a marionette to represent Lee is by far the most compelling choice that the documentary makes, with actor Peter Serafinowicz lending his dulcet tones to bring the puppet to life. The doc imbues the wooden Lee with severity and softness, wit and woe, capturing the many sides of the often conflicted and restless actor. Lee wrote and spoke enough about his life and career that this portrayal doesn’t come across as tasteless in the way that some posthumous reanimations do, such as the CGI rendering of the aforementioned Cushing in 2016’s Rogue One. But it is noticeable that the documentary rarely includes footage of the real Lee talking, when plenty of archival interview footage certainly exists.
I’ve made no secret of my love for Sir Christopher Lee over the years. I cried for hours when the actor died in 2015. I’ve got his iconic visage as Dracula tattooed on my leg, something I’m sure he would have hated. So when I saw that writer-director Jon Spira’s new documentary about the man, The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee, was playing at Fantastic Fest, my finger was poised to snag a ticket the moment they dropped. And while I certainly enjoyed the doc (and cried again… twice), it’s not without its faults — one of which some fans may struggle to overlook.
The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee Covers an Extraordinary Life
Lee lived an extraordinary life, and The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee manages to cover an awful lot of that life in under two hours. From Lee’s still-secretive military service during World War II to his early struggles as a too-tall actor and his bristly attitude toward being labeled the King of Horror, the documentary moves quickly yet comprehensively through Lee’s life in a mostly linear fashion, pausing to flesh out certain details like his long-time friendship with the late Peter Cushing (pass the tissues, please).
If you’ve read Lee’s autobiography, Tall, Dark and Gruesome (later re-released as Lord of Misrule), much of this information won’t be new. Yet The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee finds ways to keep the material fresh, leveraging a blend of puppetry, animation, and talking head interviews with Lee’s friends, biographers, and peers.
The Christopher Lee Marionette Is the Documentary’s Boldest Choice
The use of a marionette to represent Lee is by far the most compelling choice that the documentary makes, with actor Peter Serafinowicz lending his dulcet tones to bring the puppet to life. The doc imbues the wooden Lee with severity and softness, wit and woe, capturing the many sides of the often conflicted and restless actor. Lee wrote and spoke enough about his life and career that this portrayal doesn’t come across as tasteless in the way that some posthumous reanimations do, such as the CGI rendering of the aforementioned Cushing in 2016’s Rogue One. But it is noticeable that the documentary rarely includes footage of the real Lee talking, when plenty of archival interview footage certainly exists.
Several other people talk about Lee, however, including Lee’s niece, Harriet Walter, and directors Joe Dante and Peter Jackson, who worked with Lee on Gremlins 2 and The Lord of the Rings Trilogy respectively. Lee’s friend John Landis also appears repeatedly and rather outstays his welcome, telling stories about Lee that largely revolve around himself. Meanwhile, Lee’s biographer, Jonathan Rigby, provides some interesting nuance around the actor’s rocky relationship with the horror genre and his inadvertent habit of pushing fans away.
AI Animation Undermines the Film’s Practical Aesthetic
These interviews and puppet interludes are spliced with footage from some of Lee’s films (though they’re rarely labeled), still photographs, and a variety of animated segments, and it’s the latter that will likely leave a sour taste in the mouth. Because, for all its use of practical puppetry, The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee can’t help but dip into AI’s bag of tricks to fill some screen time. And where other films have at least edited the work that AI produced (looking at you, Late Night with the Devil), Spira seems content to leave it obviously unfinished and, frankly, ugly.
There’s a moment in The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee when one of the talking heads comments flippantly that Hammer Film Productions — where Lee shot to fame — was not in the business of creating art. Hammer was certainly thrifty and business minded, always quick to churn out a sequel or flash a bare breast to make a quick buck, but it also had an immensely talented and hardworking crew behind the scenes who frequently spun gold out of straw. That’s why Hammer and Lee’s legacy with the company have lived on long after the horror genre at large left their brand of cozy Gothic terror behind. You can feel all the fingerprints on film, and they’re beautiful.
It’s hard to imagine something that leans so heavily on AI having as much staying power.
The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee had its North American premiere at Fantastic Fest 2024.
Every once in a while, a festival film oozes with so much craft that it’s hard to believe it exists. I’ve only seen a handful of films on the circuit that filled me with seething jealousy that I didn’t come up with them first. Films like All Jacked Up and Full of Worms and Jimmy & Stiggs are two of the main films that come to mind. As I round out my coverage for this year’s Chattanooga Film Festival, I inadvertently ended with a film that rivals American Theater for my Best of the Fest. Donnie Hobbie’s Jump Scare truly astounds on nearly all fronts and shows how to pay homage to the films (and filmmakers) that are beloved, while still remaining original and unique.
What is Jump Scare About?
The metal band known as Jump Scare, comprised of Val (Chelsea Talmadge), Jen (Erin Ruth Walker), Kye (Shannon Dang), and Debbie (Madison Abbott), head to a cabin in the middle of the desert to work on their latest album. Little do they know that their closest neighbors are a hellbilly’s worst nightmare. One by one, Jump Scare gets smaller and smaller as the neighbors reveal their true horrors. But the band doesn’t take too kindly to the onslaught of violence brought towards them. Metal may not be dead, but Jump Scare might be very soon.
How Did We Get Here?
Writer/director Donnie Hobbie’s Jump Scare is a truly unique piece of genre that pushes the boundaries of good taste in some fascinating ways. Hobbie’s distinct style blends homage and originality in a way Tarantino could only wish for. What’s fun about Jump Scare is how you can truly feel the love for the films considered ‘inspired by’ while still being able to see and feel Hobbie’s personal style. Jump Scare is a dash of Tarantino, Rob Zombie, and Panos Cosmatos, with a heaping spoonful of Hobbie. But in saying that, I fully acknowledge that only Panos Cosmatos could make a film as great as Donnie Hobbie.
Hobbie’s adrenaline-fueled story is not only expertly crafted, but chock-full of blood, guts, and viscera; it’s the epitome of a midnight movie. From blood geysers, hammers to heads, and shotguns galore, Jump Scare has a kill for everyone. While the effects, both practical and digital, make the film a blast to watch, it’s the performance of the main cast that sells this film. Have you ever watched a film and thought, “No one else could ever play this role”? That’s exactly how I feel about Jump Scare‘s cast. Every single actor was perfectly cast, and I can’t picture this film without every single one of them.
The Deeper Meaning Within Jump Scare
Not only is Jump Scare visually entertaining, but it has a deeper message that may become easily lost within the chainsaws and hammers. The running commentary in the film centers around the question “is metal dead”? This comes on the heels of the idea of sampling within metal music. When sampling comes up, the idea of art theft is broached. And this got me thinking. Jump Scare‘s antagonists are cannibals, and, if you think about it, sampling is a form of art theft. And what is art theft if not a form of self-cannibalism?
Jump Scare weirdly embodies this analogue of art theft = cannibalism. When art STOPS being original, when artistry is stripped away, are we not just creating more of the same? That’s why mainstream music, a la songs heard on any IHEARTRADIO station, doesn’t sit well with many people. That’s not to say sampling (or paying homage) is bad by any means. It’s when the main appeal of your song (or film) is solely predicated on work done [better] by others that came before, then what the hell are we doing?
Proper Homage vs. Soulless Ripoffs
That’s why Jump Scare works so well. There’s one particular scene that could easily be described as Hobbie’s version of the ear scene in Reservoir Dogs. But even in this explicitly blatant reference, Hobbie still makes it his own. Every time you watch one of those YouTube compilations that shows the original version and Tarantino’s version next to each other, it’s nearly impossible to tell the difference. It’s where substance and style clash. I love a Tarantino film (not the man) as much as the next person, but it’s impossible to watch one of his films without questioning, “which filmmaker did he steal this from?” While watching Jump Scare, you can pick out the inspiration without feeling bogged down by a soulless ripoff.
Jump Scare surprised me until the very last second, something that films struggle to do nowadays. God, I sound old. If you’re looking for a truly insane double feature, you could easily pair this film with Chainsaws Were Singing or All Jacked Up and Full of Worms. But if you just want to see the most truly surprising Eric Roberts cameo, then Jump Scare will fill that void for you.
I’ve said time and time again that horror comedies/dark comedies aren’t my forte. Filmmakers often don’t find the right balance between horror and comedy, usually resulting in a mishmash blend that feels unfocused and lacking. Moreover, I love ambitious films; horror comedies don’t often lend themselves to ambition. (That’s not a diss by any means.) Films like Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, The Draft!, and Chainsaws Were Singing are just a few that really broke the mold for me. Thanks to the lovely programmers at Chattanooga Film Festival, I can now add Frankie, Maniac Woman to the list of exceptional horror comedies.
Frankie, Maniac Woman Delivers a Bloody Twist on Horror Comedy
Frankie Ramirez (Dina Silva) is trying to break into the industry one way or another. Little did she know that her fame would come at a bloody price. Denial after denial, being told she’s not skinny or pretty enough, when enough was enough…Frankie takes her revenge. Can Frankie slash her way to the top of the charts? Or will her path of violence become too much for her to handle?
Co-written by Dina Silva and Pierre Tsigaridis and directed by Pierre Tsigaridis, Frankie, Maniac Woman is truly a sight to behold. Pierre Tsigaridis’ third feature film takes us to a deeper level than we’ve seen before (though that might not be fair to say, as I’ve only seen his first film, Two Witches). But much of the joy from this film comes from Silva’s co-writing and performance. Oh yeah, and the gloriously violent nature of it all.
Dina Silva Creates One of Modern Slasher Horror’s Best Villains
Dina Silva’s occasionally masked portrayal of Frankie brings us one of horror’s greatest villains of all time. Rarely do we see women in horror take the main stage as such a violent force of nature. And what we also see is a devilishly smart script. Silva and Pierre Tsigaridis’ creation of Frankie brings us both a protagonist and an antagonist. Frankie wants this life where she can live as the performer she is meant to be (because Silva’s voice is gorgeous). On the other hand, Frankie’s direct actions will make sure she never has a career, you know, with the slayings and all.
The beautiful nature of Frankie’s character is the moments of realization that she has warped the trajectory of her future with each subsequent kill. She could stop, sure, but what if killing is what she was meant to do all along? Frankie does have an amazing voice, but Frankie is a fantastic serial killer. If only there were a world where she could do both.
Frankie, Maniac Woman Proves Great Slashers Need Great Stories
Now I’m unable to access the screener again, and the IMDb credits do not show the name, so I can’t fully praise the people in charge of Frankie, Maniac Woman’s SFX. A film like Frankie, Maniac Woman shows me just how wrong modern slashers are. Take Terrifier, for example. Terrifier’s story is bland, uninspired, recycled, and lazy. It’s nothing but filler around a series of fine kills. Frankie, Maniac Woman uses its kills to emphasize its incredibly well-written story. A fine film has a story that’s enough to pass the time; a great slasher has a story that uses kills as exclamation marks.
Frankie, Maniac Woman’s kills are punctuation marks that are a level above exclamation marks. Whatever that may be. Frankie is an unstoppable killing machine, until she can be stopped. She’s not this infallible entity who can take six bullets to the torso and keep lumbering on…she’s just a person. A person with feelings, stamina, and brilliant comedic timing. She’s someone you could easily see yourself being friends with (as long as you didn’t know about the killings (hell, maybe even if you knew about the killings if that’s your thing)).
Frankie, Maniac Woman Is One of the Best Festival Horror Films of the Year
Frankie, Maniac Woman is a devilishly stylized slasher that exudes camp and craft. When was the last time a film made you cry from laughter and sadness? When was the last time you watched a film so viciously riotous that you hoped things would just…work out in the end? On top of being funny, brutal, and bloody as hell, Frankie, Maniac Woman is a genuinely ‘G’reat film. It’s one of the few festival films I’ve seen that’s unquestionably Criterion-worthy.
