SFF '18: UPGRADE

UPGRADE may not be the new sci-fi masterpiece that you're looking for, but it is a fun and violent cyberpunk gem well worth your time. The film's shoestring budget is plainly evident in its cheap looking sets and some less than impressive CG, but that micro-budget aesthetic works well in its favour.

This is a film that genuinely feels like the kind of awesome low-budget genre pic that was a staple of video store shelves throughout the '80s and '90s. Where a lot of filmmakers blow it by trying too hard to ape that aesthetic, SAW's Leigh Whannell has nailed the vibe (whether intentional or not) by simple virtue of working hard to get every cent of his sub-6 million budget up on the screen, as slickly and with the highest production values that his meager funds will allow. As demonstrated by almost every movie to follow in the footsteps of Tarantino and Rodriguez's faux-grindhouse trend, it's not about faking it, but trying as hard as you can to make it that does the trick.

UPGRADE's premise is simple: during a brutal attack that leaves him a quadriplegic, Grey Trace's wife is murdered in front of him. Some month's later a reclusive tech genius rescues him from the brink of suicide by offering to give him the use of his body back via the implantation of a revolutionary bioware chip. This sets in motion a spree of mayhem and carnage as Grey uses his new body - and its unexpected "improvements" - to seek out his wife's killers and avenge her death.

Despite its hackneyed storyline, this little splatter actioner that could joins the ranks of noteworthy cyberpunk by virtue of a philosophical question that lingers in the mind after the credits roll. It really makes you ponder the separation  between mind and body, and how our bodies are little more than robotic automatons that allow our minds to engage with the physical world. An alien jellyfish that resides in our cranium and drives our bodies, like a pilot operating a mech suit. UPGRADE asks: to what degree is your body truly yours, and what happens when the mind/body connection is severed and a new operating system is installed? The truth seems to be that your mind is what makes you "you", but your body is just borrowed, disposable hardware that can be replaced, repaired and reused.   

The film is anchored by three terrific performances. Logan Marshall-Green's physical performance as Trace is excellent. He really sells the idea that he is simply a puppet being driven by a separate internal force. The disembodied AI that drives him - STEM - is also brilliantly realised by Simon Maiden. In a performance that recall's Scarlett Johansson's in HER, his AI is by turns very funny and disturbingly sinister. Finally, and coolest of all, Benedict Hardie's super enhanced military cyborg is an action villain for the sci-fi annals. He's an absolute badass, and steals the show the whole way.

But philosophical questions and good performances aren't the real reason to buy a ticket to UPGRADE: if we're being honest, we're all here for the cyberpunk tech and the damage that it inflicts on inferior, fragile human tissue, and in that Whannell's little future-gore flick truly excels. Bodies are broken, sliced, ventilated and pulverised by lethal nano-tech, Cronenbergian body-guns and general machine strength, all lovingly realised with (mostly) practical fx. It's good meaty stuff.

Add to this a killer droning synth score by Jed Palmer, and a very original and clever title treatment that starts things off on a high, and you've got yourself a very nice little package indeed. Along with the likes of BLADE RUNNER 2049, DREDD, SPLICE, GHOST IN THE SHELL and ALTERED CARBON, the last decade has been a good one to be a fan of tough-as-nails, violent cyberpunk.

Finally, Whannell (who surprised everyone by showing up at Friday's screening, coming across as a very modest and likable dude during his brief but funny intro), is insistent and very proud of the fact that, despite US financial backing, UPGRADE is an overwhelmingly  Australian production, shot in Melbourne with a mostly Aussie cast and crew. I'm proud of it too, another feather in the cap of our increasingly diverse and awesome genre cinema canon.

SFF 2018

As has become a tradition around these parts, here are the seven films that will be entering my eyeballs and ear holes at this year's Sydney Film Fest! Not a bad selection at this year's fest. Most excited for UPGRADE and GHOST STORIES.

SFF 2017: The Rest of the Fest

Sydney Film Festival '17 has wrapped, so here's some capsules for the remainder of the movies that I caught this year (you'll find reviews for THE UNTAMED and THE LITTLE HOURS below this).

Simon Rumley's FASHIONISTA is his most assured film since debuting with the singularly weird THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. Anchored by an awards worthy performance from Amanda Fuller (and a welcome return to the genre for STARRY EYES' Alex Essoe), FASHIONISTA begins as a fairly straightforward narrative, but soon fractures into a multi-timeline mindfuck which will have you straining to keep up with all the threads. Movies like this can be a chore, and this screening did have more than its fair share of walkouts, but I found Rumley's arthouse horror tribute to the films of Nicolas Roeg to be a very rewarding trip.

LADY MACBETH is director William Oldroyd's first feature, and on his first outing he's crafted a period thriller that's bound for cult status. It features a riveting performance from Florence Pugh as feminist firebrand Katherine, as she rebels against misogynistic oppression in the loveless marriage that she's been sold into. The part must have been a dream role for Pugh, as it follows a sensational arc that sees her going from hapless victim to mischievous rebel to triumphant avenger to... well, that would spoil the fun! Hers isn't the only scene stealing to be savoured either, with Paul Hilton and Christopher Fairbank turning in deliciously vile turns as Katherine's husband and his industrialist monster of a father. Sumptuously shot exteriors of moors and woods, and the gloom-filled interiors of Katherine's mansion-cum-prison (all captured with available light) give the film a perfectly Brontë-esque atmosphere, albeit one with a bit more murdering than your usual bodice-ripper.

After writing the superb screenplays for SICARIO and HELL OR HIGH WATER, expectations for Taylor Sheridan's first time out as both writer and director have been incredibly high. Did he deliver? Yes and no. WIND RIVER's characters and dialogue are decidedly more Hollywood-generic than the above mentioned masterpieces, but there's too much that does work in Sheridan's snowbound thriller to call it a disappointment. The characters aren't all weak, and in the film's meatiest role Jeremy Renner turns in his most satisfying performance since THE HURT LOCKER. Ben Richardson's location cinematography (in a very cold looking Utah) is absolutely stunning, making this required big screen viewing. Seriously, if you're planning on see this, do so on the biggest and best cinema screen you can find. All that aside however, WIND RIVER succeeds mostly because as a high-stakes cops vs criminals thriller it really delivers the goods when it counts. I'm talking gruesome procedural detail, harrowing tension and some cheer-worthy and very cathartic violence. Based on this I think we can expect good things from Sheridan in the future.

If you've been paying attention, you'll know that I've got my gaze firmly fixed on Italian director Luca Guadagnino, whose SUSPIRIA remake is currently in post. His latest film, CALL ME BY YOUR NAME, is a coming of age romance that is as close to perfection as the genre gets. Guadagnino captures that feeling of nostalgia, the bittersweet elation and pain of sexual awakening and first love, but without the sentimentality that so often pervades movies of this type. It's also refreshing to see this well-trodden material depicted from the standpoint of a young gay man, and to that end both Armie Hammer and Timothée Chalamet (neither of whom are gay as far as I know) create a chemistry that just bleeds off the screen. Pure, honest, unpretentious and moving, this is one hot Italian summer holiday that you need to take.

Sofia Coppola's first genre film is a dreamily languid affair, dripping with as much Southern Gothic atmosphere as its woods drip with Spanish moss. THE BEGUILED, a remake of Don Siegel's 1971 Clint Eastwood starrer, opens with Colin Farrell's wounded Union soldier finding refuge in an almost abandoned girl's school, situated alarmingly close to the Virginia battlefield he just deserted. The remaining Southern belles (a small group of teachers, students and the school's head mistress) are at first wary of their captive guest, but caution for this charmingly hunky enemy soon gives way to lust... and lust to games and betrayal. There's an almost somnambulistic quality to THE BEGUILED, so much so that I found myself drifting off a bit in the first act, but this is obviously calculated to make the jolt that is to come that much more alarming. Elle Fanning, fresh of the set of THE NEON DEMON, and Coppola regular Kirsten Dunst turn in solid performances, but it's Nicole Kidman's austere, repressed madame who steals the show here. Despite good reviews, I don't think this is Coppola's finest moment. It's a good film to be sure, but considering the potential of the subject matter I found it to be a bit slight. That said, there's plenty to enjoy here, with its strongest asset being an often hilarious comedic streak that I wasn't expecting at all.

SFF 2017: THE UNTAMED

Come (cum?) for the slimy, multi-tentacled sex alien, stay for the tragic human drama.

Amat Escalante's THE UNTAMED (LA REGIÓN SALVAJE) is a complex drama about sexuality, desire, and the damage that can be done - to oneself and others - when a person's needs go unfulfilled or are rejected. The story follows unhappily married Ale, whose selfish husband Ángel is secretly fucking her gay brother, Fabián. This already bad situation is made nastier by the fact that Ángel is outwardly homophobic, and is torn apart by self-loathing for his uncontrollable urges. Into this toxic mix stumbles Verónica, a stranger with a dark secret that will change the lives of Ale, Ángel and Fabián forever.

Oh, and THE UNTAMED also features a creepy, Lovecraftian alien, marooned on Earth when the meteor it inhabited fell here, finding refuge with a kindly biologist and his wife. We never learn much about this mysterious creature, whether it needs to feed or reproduce for example. Its only biological function that we are made privy to is its desire to sexually "bond" with a human host, a highly invasive act that can result in either intense pleasure for its host, or an outcome that's far less desirable.

You should have worked out by now that the alien is a mirror for all the human drama that's unfolding around it. An allegorical entity that is a pure distillation of primal sexuality and its power to heal, elate, obsess and destroy. The creature's motivations for wanting to copulate (if that's even what it's doing. Perhaps it's communicating or just doing research?) are never made clear. Just like lust and love, it's kind of senseless. A force of nature. It just is.

The remarkable thing about THE UNTAMED is that I would estimate the creature's screen time to come in at well under a minute. The film could have the entire alien thread edited out and remain a satisfying non-genre work with a reasonable running time. Performances are good across the board, working off of Escalante and Gibrán Portela's solid screenplay, but without question the real star of the movie is that fleetingly glimpsed monster.

Although comparisons to Cronenberg are unavoidable, this thing is actually ripped straight from Andrzej Zulawski's  POSSESSION, a bold reference that's made explicit in the film's end credits. There's a shot in THE UNTAMED that's so cool because it's basically an update on the money shot from POSSESSION, and this particular moment is an absolute stunner. That and another SFX shot that precedes it by a minute or two are the most beautifully fucked-up and fantastic images that I've seen in a sci-fi horror film this year. Long after I've forgotten the rest of THE UNTAMED, those two images will remain indelibly burned on my mind's eye.

SFF 2017: THE LITTLE HOURS

Sydney Film Fest 2017 is now well underway, and last night I ventured out into the rainy cold to catch the first of seven movies that I'll be seeing, Jeff Baena's THE LITTLE HOURS.

This fluffy comedy took me by surprise. I was expecting something feather-light, at best an amusing extended gag, at worst something along the lines of forgettable stoner-comedy YOUR HIGHNESS. I'm happy to report that THE LITTLE HOURS bears no resemblance to that movie, and although it is indeed an easily digested little morsel, there's more than enough meat on its bones to elevate it above the feature length skit that some people are writing it off as.

Based on one of the stories from THE DECAMERON, Baena's bawdy tale follows horny servant boy Massetto, as he flees for his life from vengeful Lord Bruno into the "refuge" of a convent full of equally horny nuns. THE LITTLE HOURS immediately establishes its connection to Pasolini's '71 masterpiece, and '70s cinema in general, with an opening credits sequence ripped straight from that decade (but not from IL DECAMERON). Thankfully that's where the faux-vintage aesthetic ends, and it should go without saying that other than the same source material, this movie has little in common with Pasolini's film. If I were to dissect Baena's influences here, I'd go with a melange of Monty Python, nunsploitation and contemporary raunch comedy.

So what was it that surprised me about this film? I was expecting it to be funny of course, and in that it certainly delivered, with Fred Armisen, Nick Offerman, John C. Reilly, Alison Brie, Kate Micucci,  Aubrey Plaza and Dave Franco all drawing huge laughs from last night's audience. However, where it caught me off guard, grabbing my full attention, was in its sudden left turn into tripped-out witchiness, and in the touching and even magical quality of its final moments. Add to that some very '70s-authentic location cinematography (Tuscany, Italy, with one shot featuring a hilariously obvious power line lurking in the corner) and a lovely score, and you've got a foul-mouthed, fucked-up and ultimately feel-good confection that tastes better than it might look.

SFF 2016: the list

As has become tradition around these parts, here's the list of movies that I'm seeing at this year's Sydney Film Fest. I'm keeping it to a tight six this year, but it's a nice eclectic mix that should keep me on my toes.

PATCHWORK

This Canadian indie comedy is a gory '80s throwback with a healthy amount of golden era Henenlotter and Gordon/Yuzna running through its Frankensteinian veins. Sounds promising, but can it rise above its influences?

HIGH-RISE

After six years of blogging about this movie there's nothing more for me to say, except I can't believe I'm finally going to see it. A screening of Kill List at SFF 2011 was my introduction to Ben Wheatley, so this kind of feels like coming full circle. As with Cronenberg's Crash, High-Rise has been a divisive film, one that people seem to either love or hate. We'll soon see which side of the fence I land on.

WAR ON EVERYONE

John Michael McDonagh's first feature to leave the shores of Ireland and Brendan Gleeson behind sees his acerbic wit transplanted to New Mexico, where Alexander Skarsgård and Michael Peña play a couple of Bad Lieutenants on the warpath. McDonagh has yet to put a foot wrong (his last film, Calvary, is a masterpiece) so my expectations for this are high. Caleb Landry Jones, of Brandon Cronenberg's Antiviral, shows up as well.

UNDER THE SHADOW

After being impressed by Ana Lily Amirpour's A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, I'm looking forward to another dose of Iranian feminist horror.

SWISS ARMY MAN

Is it weird that I've avoided trailers for this for the specific reason that I want to be surprised by the variety of useful functions that a farting zombie can have? Daniel Radcliffe continues to distance himself as far as humanly possible from Hogwarts.

EVERYBODY WANTS SOME!!

Richard Linklater's Dazed and Confused is one of my all-time faves, so I'm just another of the millions of fans who were delighted to hear that he was making a "spiritual sequel" set during the '80s. Apparently the college jocks that Everybody Wants Some!! focuses on find themselves at an Austin punk venue at one point. Is it based on Raul's?

SFF 2015: THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY

I fucked up and missed the opening 15 minutes of last Sunday's SFF screening of The Duke of Burgundy, my last movie at this year's fest. Chalk it up to a bad case of festivalitis: too many movies, too many 5:00 AM alarms for work.

No biggie, I loved what I saw and will be returning to this baroque and beautiful alternate reality as soon as it gets a theatrical release here. Peter Strickland's mysterious, forested world - populated solely by women, all of whom seem to have a BDSM fetish and an academic fascination with butterflies and moths - is seductive and intoxicating. It's a place that I couldn't stop thinking about after the credits had rolled.

Strickland has captured the look and feel of classic European erotic artsploitation so perfectly you could be forgiven for thinking that you're watching a forgotten, unearthed gem from that bygone era. But this isn't simply a case of immaculately copying the style of another era with no real substance to back it up. Strickland's script is strong and his direction assured, firmly establishing a hypnotic, druggy atmosphere, then patiently weaving a story that's intriguing, weird, hilarious and ultimately very sad.

Lead actresses Chiara D'Anna and Sidse Babett Knudsen shine as the film's two central characters, Evelyn and Cynthia. Both women have charisma to spare in challenging roles that demand a wide range: perfect comic timing, awkwardly stilted formality, lustful passion and heartrending melancholy.

Cinematographer Nic Knowland (whose credits include Strickland's Berberian Sound Studio and 1980's The Great Rock 'N' Roll Swindle) fills the movie with an impressive array of visual delights: trippy, spectral lens flares; moody, windswept woods; carefully composed interior shots that use mirrors and reflections to disorient the viewer; a prolonged psychedelic dream sequence that will take your breath away. Add to that Hungarian production designer Pater Sparrow's eye for meticulous detail, and we have a strong contender for best looking movie of the year.

The final piece of the puzzle that makes The Duke of Burgundy such a perfect cinematic throwback to the films of Franco, Fassbinder and Borowczyk is Cat's Eyes' sublime, ethereal score. Listen to a couple of tracks below (as well as a look at the film's opening title sequence).

Along with Benson and Moorhead's Spring, The Duke of Burgundy was the easy winner for me at this year's SFF. An instant classic and very highly recommended.

SFF 2015: GERMAN ANGST

German Angst's closing faux-vintage shot of a spring blossom aptly mirrors Goodnight Mommy's opening clip of the creepy Aryan family from 1956's Die Trapp-Familie singing "Guten Abend, gute Nacht". Both are meant to remind you that under the saccharine-sweet cultural image of dirndls, lederhosen and brisk, cheerful Bergwanderung lies a society that is completely at odds with all that. A society that many see as austere and repressed, but which is also well known for its dark excesses and a deep lingering pain from the still open wound of its recent past. Berlin-set horror anthology German Angst is overflowing with that pain and excess.

This three-parter, co-directed by Jörg Buttgereit, Michal Kosakowski and Andreas Marschall, is actually one of the more satisfying anthologies of the last few years. It's far more even than any of the V/H/S movies for one thing. An effort seems to have been made to tie the three segments together stylistically, and it definitely works in the film's favour. One very pleasing touch is to subtly include each film's title and director credit as part of its set dressing. The whole film is very nicely shot, particularly Buttgereit's opening Final Girl and Marschall's concluding Alraune, both of which are absolutely gorgeous.

Buttgereit's Final Girl feels like a distant mutant cousin to Nekromantik: different flat, different couple, same totally fucked up goings on. There might not be any necrophilia happening here, but Lola Gave's guinea pig* loving "girl" is every bit as sick and twisted as Rob and Betty were. Storywise this one is pretty slight, but that didn't bother me because it's just so visually interesting. Buttgereit's camera lingers lovingly on every inch of filthy squalor, and it really put me right there in that grungy flat. I could almost smell the mould and unwashed dishes. Some beautiful macro photography of a razor blade slicing into flesh and blood drops soaking into carpet are also memorably striking. Some strong sound design adds to the atmosphere and seals the deal.

Next up is my least favourite of the three segments, Kosakowski's Make a Wish, in which the ever present spectre of Nazism in Germany rears its ugly head. Kosakowski seems to be trying to make a point here about the relationship between victim and oppressor, but I didn't quite get it. No matter, it's still engaging enough, and the flashback sequence depicting a heinous Nazi atrocity in 1943 Poland is very well done. So well done on such an obviously low budget in fact, that I think Richard Raaphorst could learn a thing or two from it.

The best is left til last with Andreas Marschall's atmospheric, neon-lit erotic nightmare, Alraune. Along with Benson and Moorhead's Spring, this lurid little slice of psychedelic occultism is definitely the most genuine feeling Lovecraftian horror I've seen in a while. It really struck a nostalgic chord with me, as it kept reminding me of the heyday of the Gordon/Yuzna productions. Something about the look and feel of it, combined with the mix of sex, gore and practical creature fx. The cast give it their all, with Kristina Kostiv stealing the show as a seductive and tragic siren, while Rüdiger Kuhlbrodt devours scenery as slimy cult leader Petrus. Adding to the vibe of vintage eldritch mystery is Mathieu Amalric look-alike Milton Welsh's deeply intoned, hard-boiled voice over. Alraune's violent climax of sex, gore and hideous ancient evil is the perfect capper to a highly enjoyable and satisfyingly sick anthology. Seek this one out.

*A nod to the infamous Japanese series perhaps?

SFF 2015: DEATHGASM

It's fitting that throughout much of Deathgasm one of the characters wears a Bad Taste t-shirt. Director Jason Lei Howden has spent much of his career toiling as a VFX artist for WETA Digital, and his admiration for its co-founder and owner's early films is evident in every frame of his first movie. Underneath all the gross-out gore and dildo jokes Deathgasm shares the same sense of quaint sweetness that has made Bad Taste and Braindead so enduringly charming. It's that very specific brand of whimsical Kiwi charm that set Jackson's early movies apart from his main influence - Raimi's Evil Dead and Evil Dead II - and which continues to define the spirit of NZ horror comedies to this day.

Deathgasm also shares another essential quality that has characterised New Zealand's homegrown splatstick genre: it's actually funny. There's been an international avalanche of Jackson-influenced horror comedy in the last couple of decades, and way too much of it has been excruciatingly unfunny and exasperatingly stupid (and yes Tommy Wirkola I'm looking right at you). Deathgasm is cleverly written and frequently laugh out loud funny, a hilarious mixed bag of physical gags and silly jokes. Howden, who also wrote the script, seems to have a pretty decent grasp of heavy metal lore, and works in a number of in-jokes for metalheads, knowingly referencing everything from Poison to Manowar and Anal Cunt.

Unfortunately, the one thing that lets this movie down is the third defining feature of Jackson's seminal classics: the splatter fx. Although Howden's heart (and spleen, intestines etc) is obviously in the right place, and I appreciate his steadfast use of practical fx, most of the mayhem on display here is pretty uninspiring. I think it's essential with a movie like this to be as inventive with the gags as possible, and (with the exception of a pretty funny death by dildo scene) I'm afraid the grue in Deathgasm is more chore than gore. To be fair though, Howden's VFX skills make up for it with a number of cool little flourishes peppered throughout the movie, especially the animated title sequence which makes for a really fist pumping opener. It's also worth noting that the demons here are more Lamberto Bava than Raimi, which was refreshing.

As far as Kiwi horror comedies go, the recent Housebound and What We Do in the Shadows have set the bar almost impossibly high. Deathgasm may not have reached those same dizzy heights for me, but it's still well worth a watch. Horns up!

Next for me at the fest: Teutonic transgression in GERMAN ANGST!

SFF 2015: GOODNIGHT MOMMY (Ich Seh, Ich Seh)

This year's Sydney Film Fest got off to a fine start for me last night with Severin Fiala & Veronika Franz's chilling and outrageous Goodnight Mommy.

It's interesting to see this one so soon after Jennifer Kent's The Babadook, as the two movies share a similar premise: the emotional struggle between a single mother and her young son (or in this case twin sons) spiralling out of control with horrific consequences. Beyond that however, the two films have little in common, so it's cool to see the same idea approached from two very different viewpoints.

I hadn't read too much about this one and wasn't sure whether to expect a psychological thriller or an all out gorefest, so was pleasantly rewarded with an even balance of both. The first half is a deliberately paced slow burn, but is peppered with enough satisfyingly jolting shocks to guarantee that you stay wide awake. The dread gradually escalates to a final act that descends into over the top horror, which had even jaded old me cringing a few times. Fiala and Franz definitely weren't afraid to take their movie to some very uncomfortable and taboo places. It's not every day that you see a movie in which a 10-year-old boy is such a loathsome antagonist that you're rooting for him to die.

Goodnight Mommy is classic European artsploitation, a movie intended to satisfy the arthouse crowd just as much as thrill seekers and gorehounds. Its spooky wooded locations and chilly, clinical interiors are beautifully framed and patiently lingered on, making it worthy of seeing for the visuals alone. One (probably) opportunistically shot scene in a hailstorm is a real eye opener.

Back to the fest tonight to see Kiwi metal gorefest DEATHGASM!

SFF 2015

Sydney Film Festival 2015 hits next month and this year brings with it a motley assemblage of genre offerings. Richard Kuipers seems to have sourced the majority of this year's Freak Me Out sidebar from SXSW, which is fine by me as by all accounts the selection there was strong. Here's a brief rundown of the movies I've scored tickets to. I'll do my best to get capsule reviews up for all of these.

WE ARE STILL HERE

Fuck yes! The Cramptonaissance continues. I've already been pretty vocal about my excitement for this here and here. Fulci Lives!

SPRING

I loved Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead's romantic subversion of Lovecraft's The Shadow over Innsmouth. You can read my review here. This is my first chance to see it on the big screen and I can't wait.

GERMAN ANGST

From the romantic to the Nekromantik! Only two words required: new Buttgereit. Unsurprisingly, this Berlin-set anthology is supposed to be somewhat transgressive in terms of explicit sex and gore.

DEATHGASM

In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death, taxes and that New Zealand produces the best horror comedies. From the island nation that has given us Bad Taste, Braindead, Housebound and What We Do in the Shadows comes a metal splatterfest overflowing with practical gore and satanic demonology.

GOODNIGHT MOMMY

Unless I'm forgetting something, this Ulrich Seidl produced chiller marks the first Austrian horror movie I will have seen since Funny Games (I haven't seen Blood Glacier yet). The word is that this is a very stylish, beautifully shot, slow burn creeper. Prolicide or Matricide?

THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY

My only pick outside of the Freak Me Out section this year. Berberian Sound Studio's Peter Strickland turns his attention from the giallo to '70s Euro-sleaze, citing Jess Franco as an influence among others. The Duke of Burgundy has been getting raves for its luscious design and gorgeous cinematography, and is apparently funny and moving in equal measure.