Gretel & Hansel (2020) ***
For Oz Perkins' third feature, Gretel & Hansel (2020) (the first that he didn't write himself), he decided to tackle and update a classic Brothers Grimm fairy tale. The results are mixed but there is a lot to appreciate.
The cinematography by Galo Olivares—combined with Jeremy Reed's production design—is simply stunning. Sharp angles, triangular shapes, shadows and colored lights figure heavily into the visual palette of the film, taking an already creepy premise and adding an artistic flair that results in a feast for the eyes. The look and tone is a bit like a PG-13 combination of the more earthy feel of The Witch (2015) (my review here) (also similar is that film's unsettling quiet) and the psychedelia of Beyond The Black Rainbow (2010) (my review here).
Young actress Sophia Lillis' expressive features and understated performance do well to carry the film and Alice Krige is really strong as the witch—never cartoonishly scary but always menacing. There is an unmistakably feminist leaning in this adaptation, as the titular character discovers she has certain powers and as she transitions into womanhood—thankfully it's never too on the nose.
The film has an anachronistic quality—with its setting and year never revealed, its lead’s pixie cut, and its characters’ blend of accents (whether intentional or due to being overlooked)—that, on one hand feels a bit odd, and on the other somehow appropriate. Adding to this mix of old and new is an electronic score, which certainly modernizes the sound. As I was watching the film, I was really digging said score and it wasn't until the end credits rolled that I realized that composer Robin Coudert (as Rob) was responsible—which makes perfect sense because it's reminiscent of his excellent score for Maniac (2012) (my review here).
G&H has some shortcomings—the story takes a bit of a backseat to the sumptuous visuals at times, it feels a bit underdeveloped overall, it can be tropey, and I wasn't crazy about Lillis' voice-over, particularly during the film's climax. But, as with his first (and best, so far) film, The Blackcoat's Daughter (2015) (my review here) and second film, I Am The Pretty Thing That Lives In The House (2016) (my review here), Perkins continues to make intriguing (if flawed) horror films that demand additional viewings and retain my interest in his development as a director.
The cinematography by Galo Olivares—combined with Jeremy Reed's production design—is simply stunning. Sharp angles, triangular shapes, shadows and colored lights figure heavily into the visual palette of the film, taking an already creepy premise and adding an artistic flair that results in a feast for the eyes. The look and tone is a bit like a PG-13 combination of the more earthy feel of The Witch (2015) (my review here) (also similar is that film's unsettling quiet) and the psychedelia of Beyond The Black Rainbow (2010) (my review here).
Young actress Sophia Lillis' expressive features and understated performance do well to carry the film and Alice Krige is really strong as the witch—never cartoonishly scary but always menacing. There is an unmistakably feminist leaning in this adaptation, as the titular character discovers she has certain powers and as she transitions into womanhood—thankfully it's never too on the nose.
The film has an anachronistic quality—with its setting and year never revealed, its lead’s pixie cut, and its characters’ blend of accents (whether intentional or due to being overlooked)—that, on one hand feels a bit odd, and on the other somehow appropriate. Adding to this mix of old and new is an electronic score, which certainly modernizes the sound. As I was watching the film, I was really digging said score and it wasn't until the end credits rolled that I realized that composer Robin Coudert (as Rob) was responsible—which makes perfect sense because it's reminiscent of his excellent score for Maniac (2012) (my review here).
G&H has some shortcomings—the story takes a bit of a backseat to the sumptuous visuals at times, it feels a bit underdeveloped overall, it can be tropey, and I wasn't crazy about Lillis' voice-over, particularly during the film's climax. But, as with his first (and best, so far) film, The Blackcoat's Daughter (2015) (my review here) and second film, I Am The Pretty Thing That Lives In The House (2016) (my review here), Perkins continues to make intriguing (if flawed) horror films that demand additional viewings and retain my interest in his development as a director.
Comments
Post a Comment