Realização:
Franck KhalfounCâmara:
Maxime AlexandreMúsica:
RobElenco:
Elijah Wood, Nora Arnezeder, Liane Balaban, America Olivo, Sammi Rotibi, Morgane Slemp, Genevieve Alexandra, Megan Duffy, Jan Broberg, Sal Landi (mais)Sinopses(1)
Just when the streets seemed safe, a serial killer with a fetish for scalps is back and on the hunt. Frank is the withdrawn owner of a mannequin store, but his life changes when young artist Anna appears asking for his help with her new exhibition. As their friendship develops and Frank's obsession escalates, it becomes clear that she has unleashed a long-repressed compulsion to stalk and kill. (Wild Bunch Distribution)
(mais)Críticas (7)
O filme surge como uma nojeira autoindulgente e sangrenta no primeiro quarto, repugna o espetador, e depois torna difícil encontrar um caminho de regresso ao mesmo. Mas é ajudado bastante pela personagem da fotógrafa Nora Arnezeder, que traz normalidade e humanidade à sujeira psicadélica. A escuridão e a pureza são equilibradas graças a ela, e ao aprender as razões da loucura de estripador Elijah Wood, a repulsiva matança torna-se um drama de thriller emocionante. Em comparação com o original ao estilo de filme B dos anos oitenta, uma transferência credível para as águas de filme A, com o gore e a brutalidade explícitos retidos. Original graças às tomadas de POV através dos olhos do estripador e, mais importante ainda, à insana (mas fantástica!) banda sonora eletrónica. Uma bizarrice pela qual nos alegramos com o facto de se ter revelado como se revelou.
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Nasty psycho downer. If I was an attractive young prostitute leaving the cinema, I would look in fear over my shoulder just to make sure I’m not being followed by some Baggins who wants to stab me with his penknife. Uhm. Under the eye of Alexandre Aja as producer, Khalfoun doesn’t disappoint and delivers exactly what I expected from him: a good horror thriller with a pinch of gore and a charismatic villain. So, basically P2 (BTW, pretty underrated film) in a better looking and more interesting package. The POV camera is good, and the decision to move from it here and there is also pretty smart, it makes you doubt whether the camera at any given moment is in fact the eyes of the killer or not, which increases the tension. My overall impression was slightly bothered by one very stupid moment in the last minutes, but the gore inferno at the very end sorted things out. It was chilling at times, even. 85%.
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As suggestive as it is, it is accordingly disturbing. And it is disturbing, you can bet the house on it. Refn's hypnotic approach to (not only) atmosphere enhances this impression.
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Unpleasant. After leaving the theater I had a weird feeling of changed perspective. The screen offers the viewpoint in the first person on a limited scale, then enlarging it disproportionately. When I returned to two-eye vision I seem to have experienced a sort of inner shrinkage. Like if I had crawled out of a sick brain back into my (less sick) brain while not losing the ability to discern reality. It was a relief, despite the headache that set in. Khalfoun exploits the concept to the full. The dime-a-dozen, slasher plot receives the stamp of reality and ideas abound. The stay in the disintegrating mind of a serial killer isn’t very pleasant, but even some really romantic moments occur too. Anna is the only one to keep the movie from toppling over the brink of normality, the other characters are unpleasant or behave stupidly. Elijah Wood acts with his voice, just occasionally we see him in the mirror or in a special sequence when his “soul leaves his body". The music by a certain Rob affords Maniac anger and volatility, creating much of the chilling atmosphere that seeps from the screen. We haven’t seen anything like this for a long time.
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A particularly nasty film that relies too much on all that unscrupulous violence for my taste. I can't deny it a truly evocative atmosphere that gave me a headache, and good music, but otherwise I wasn't too impressed with this modern Norman Bates. The similarity to Drive is purely coincidental.
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Scalp My Bitch Up! In the usual cinematic morass, someone finally understood that Horror is Other People and set about explaining what a serial killer's Monday actually looks like from his perspective. And it's a cheerless view. Khalfoun rightly scalped the usual audience expectations, cast hands in the lead role, and Aja's contacts with anti-class make-up studios ensured that most of the world's cinemas would be closed to the film. Yet it is in an empty theatre (thanks to H.C.E. for the big screen distribution!) that this ride through the darkness of an anonymous big city hiding a terrifying predator, aided by Rob's hypnotic synths, stands out as it should. What you don't get is fear, jump-scares, and a nice evening with popcorn and a girlfriend. What you do get is gore and, most importantly, an individual's mournful journey through dimly lit alleys where there is no advice or help.
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The hypnotic style with seemingly ill-fitting soundtrack pays homage to the master Refn and I must say that I don’t find much fault with director Franck Khalfoun. Maniac is a great portrait of a slightly brooding Frodo, who instead of his ring usually draws a rather handsome knife on the ladies and concentrates mainly on satisfying those highly specific desires of his that most of us find unacceptable. On the other hand, there’s no accounting for taste, and if practically the whole film is shot through the eyes of the main character (here again one is reminded of Enter the Void, which Gaspar enhanced with suggestive hints of the blinking and beating of heart), it increases the intensity of the final experience and one can empathize a bit better with the feelings of the mentally ill Frodo. A truly aesthetically decadent experience.
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