jamesfrancishall

"In Heaven, everything is fine."

This is easily the most astoundingly atmospheric body horror film I have ever seen. Eraserhead is one of the unfortunately few cases of body horror being driven not by grotesque brutality (which is most certainly present in the film) but relying on a lonesome, isolated, depressing, and utterly morbid atmosphere devoid of any sense of hope and morality. Deeply unsettling yet avoiding of shock value, few films managed to provide such a genuine feeling of discomfort by atmosphere alone quite like Eraserhead.

The aesthetics and atmosphere of this outstanding horror masterwork is perhaps the most notable element of this film to me; no other film has so well managed to capture the feeling of a nightmare. Even those that try through aesthetics, are simply too rational and cinematic to produce that feeling. Eraserhead uses "nightmare logic" flawlessly. All the characters in this movie have no personal depth and complexity, understandability, and rationality. This sounds like a criticism, yet it is anything but one. Nightmares are devoid of logic, reason, decision-making and basic human understanding, creating a completely disorienting effect which Eraserhead so flawlessly captures. We have no idea what these bizarre shells of human beings will do next because they possess no logic as this film so wonderfully simulates our nightmares and primal fears.

Because God is the author of rationality and logic, we get a horrifying glimpse into the antithesis of godliness and reason, a world which abandons all rules of the universe which in turns produces something unsurprisingly grim and evil. Godless and hideous in every way, the complete irrationality of the world offers a similar perspective to Begotten: if God died and humanity continued, what would we get? Love, morality, and rationality stop completely, while evil, confusion, disorientation, hatred, and irrationality are in absolute control. Evil is the void of Goodness (which is God Himself), and Eraserhead seeks this depiction, depicting it in perhaps the most incredibly horrific way possible. Heaven, as sung by the chipmunk-woman abomination, is the fullest place of hope, but where is that to be seen when all that is around you defies perfection and goodness in all forms? All shreds of morality and positivity are lost to the grotesque, depressed, and evil in the world of Eraserhead, and that consideration makes for some of the most morbid and effective slow-burn horror I have witnessed.

Notable in its grotesque presentation and hideous body horror, Eraserhead excels technically and atmospherically in all ways. Henry's baby, the sickening and abominable creation of the virtue of fatherhood, is a constant source of anxiety and repulsion for both the characters in the film and the viewer. It is a stunning animatronic puppet with exceptional detail put into its creation, from the viscera of the baby, the disgusting appearance, the incredibly realistic slow movements, and the uttering of repulsive croaking, crying, and laughing sounds make this one of the most horrific "monsters" committed to celluloid. It is a standard byproduct of an evil world, being a visual and metaphorical representation of the consequences of sin, death, and hopelessness, further instilling the absolute void of goodness in Eraserhead's world.

Immaculate in its horror and filmmaking quality, Eraserhead is beyond remarkable as a piece of surrealist horror. Far from self-indulgent yet repulsive and fully thought-provoking, this may well be the effective body horror film to exist. Beautiful, nightmarish, disgusting, and absolutely unsettling are words that hardly do justice to this crowning achievement in not just David Lynch's filmography, but the history of horror filmmaking in general. I would well consider this a strong contender for being the greatest arthouse horror film ever made.

French art contains some of the greatest and most revolutionary ideas committed to any field. Throughout history, the arts have progressed and been directed into new waves and trends, yet the 20th century has proposed the boldest and most shocking of advancements in art, completely altering its historical course for the longest conceivable time, if not eternally. The Impressionist era of music, giving us masterful composers like Claude Debussy, Maurice Ravel, Lili Boulanger, and Erik Satie; the Impressionist era of visual arts, blessing us with the beautiful worlds with Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Claude Monet, and Édouard Manet, completely altering the course of the arts into something dissonant and bizarre yet wholly coordinating to create a unique style of beautiful modernity. This influence spread across the whole, leading into musical, artistic, and cinematic forms of Expressionism, Abstractionism, and many more.

The cinematic arts are no exception to this rule. The greatest forms of film were initiated by the French masters like Georges Méliès, bringing film from a mere theatrical performance captured by celluloid to an entire field of art, possessing unique abilities that could only be captured by film, thanks to editing and special effects. These advancements lead France to boldly proclaim new ideas, producing the New French Wave in which many masterpieces like Hiroshima Mon Amour, Breathless, and The 400 Blows were made. Wishing to push extremity in filmmaking, violence and other taboos were also introduced, triggering shocking films like Eyes Without a Face, and eventually, by the start of the 21st century, the French Extremity Movement triggering harrowing masterworks like Irreversible and Martyrs.

Because of the endless promotion of new ideas and extremities being brought into film, these initially shocking elements of filmmaking became commonplace, to the point where traditionalist styles were practically abolished and dismissed as outdated and unsuitable for a people who constantly crave new, fresh, and advanced art ideas. Traditionalism becomes revolutionary, and simplicity in artistic ideas rare. Yet, simplicity in such a wave of technological and artistic advancements, stands to tell something powerful, direct, and potentially more astonishing than form of extremity and bold ideas could ever do: a return to barebones form, a soulful, unforgiving, and unglorified depiction, rejecting any form of sensationalism and extraneous material, and leaving the art all up to pure minimalism.

Mouchette ironically advances in minimalism and simplicity of direction, which is completely used in its favor. Very likely inspiring the 2002 masterpiece Lilja 4-Ever, it uses a very loose and simple approach to its small but emotionally powerful plot. Telling the story of a girl with a dying mother and a world that treats her abusively and dismissively, it is an astoundingly powerful short tale, one that starts from an already low point, eventually descending further into complete and utter tragedy. Like Lilya in Lilya 4-Ever, the main character, Mouchette, is angry, depressed, and bitter. Little looks positive in her life in the first place, and whenever she is presented with any element of potential joy, she is confronted with evils outweighing any form of happiness. This dark story, similarly to Lilya 4-Ever and Nothing Bad Can Happen, is a devastating descent into the greatest forms of tragedy, one where you can endlessly empathize with the beaten and broken, yet can never help or serve them in their dismay.

This film is far more effective than any form of extreme cinema in conveying tragedy and brutality. The issue with extremity in filmmaking is its focus on the actual act of violence instead of the consequences of them and the effect it has on the victim itself. Mouchette completely disavows any shred of onscreen misery and suffering to further the point, ironically making it all the more effective. For every tragedy and unpleasantry Mouchette faces, our eyes are closed to the sight of the egregious evil itself, but our eyes are forced open to see the emotional and spiritual consequences however. The pain is personal and authentic in that sense, as it is all left to our imagination the kind of horrors that have occurred. Yet Robert Bresson shows no remorse in its presentation, free from the shackles of emotional manipulation, yet far from sensationalism. Lilya 4-Ever is a similar scenario of confrontation by consequence, rather than by the act. This advanced its devastating nature from something simply sadistic to something soul-crushingly depressing.

Flawlessly yet minimalistically filmed, Robert Bresson refrains from melodramatics and means of depressing the viewer by exterior material outside of what is captured on celluloid. There are no dramatic acting scenes, excessive use of tragic musical scores, and exaggerated camera work. It is shot in a very still, simple, and deeply uncinematic way, almost from a human perspective, as if you were sitting down and entirely taking part in witnessing the tragedy, yet standing by to let it continue unfolding. Raw and honest is a simplistic but accurate way to describe the entirety of Mouchette's presentation. The acting is astoundingly powerful and honest, almost the antithesis of the beautiful and theatrical performances of Hiroshima Mon Amour. Its minimalism is shown in all forms, from its storytelling, dialogue, cinematography, and acting, yet it is that cold, quiet, austere, and beautifully tragic nature that makes this a truly moving and beautiful experience.

It was not expected that a quiet, slow-paced film like this would be so devastatingly impactful, but it never failed to stun with its tragic beauty. Mouchette drags itself along with the viewer into the pit of depression but solely by its sheer talent and incredible capability, not through the cheap laziness that is expressed by misery porn produced by big budget companies and studios. Immaculately presented and a powerful demonstration of quiet sadness in filmmaking, Mouchette is stunningly impactful and remarkable in essentially all aspects that it could possibly be.

In a similar field as Plan 9 From Outer Space, Herschell Gordon Lewis's so-bad-it's-good, nonetheless highly influential, Blood Feast holds the remarkable title as the first splatter film ever made. Despite its great influence in breaking down the censors of the time due to its extreme gore and sadistic nature, it's a delightfully bad experience, incompetent on practically every level. If you take a bizarre pleasure in amusingly atrocious filmmaking, Blood Feast is an essential watch. Abrim with atrocious acting, stilted and completely inhuman dialogue, puke-inducingly bad cinematography, ridiculous-looking gore effects, immense predictability, the world's stupidest killer and policemen, and an overflowing one-hour supply of unadulterated 60s schlocky campiness, you will hardly find a better place to go than this absurd little gem of trash.