5150 Rue des Ormes / 5150 Elm Street (2009)
Well whadya know, it’s another of those films written by (gasp) Johnny Foreigner and they’ve had the nerve to base it on a book too, so its double the reading for you folk who seem to find this a problem.
Goddamn fascist state that we live in!
So anyway as you may or may not (if you’re dumb as a box of rocks that is) have guessed this is a French Canadian offering which is based on the book of the same name by Patrick Senecal.
The story begins with our protagonist Yannick winning a place a film school, and after saying goodbye to his alcoholic mother, a dad that’s doing nothing to earn that father of the year mug for Crimbo, and a sweet, supportive girlfriend who loves him, he sets about settling into his new surroundings.
One day, on his way back from getting particularly arty/poignant/oh so ironic and post modern shots on his camera (teddy bear floating in a stream anyone?), a black cat crosses his path causes him to total his bike (of the pedal variety mind – only the bad boys in films ride motorbikes, now – that’s cinema 101 people) and bloody up his pretty arms and hands.
Spotting a taxi parked in a nearby drive way he decides to try his luck with the owner to see if he can get a lift back to school. it’s the taxi drivers day off but he offers to go inside and ring Yannick a taxi while he waits outside – what a nice old dude eh?
Now here’s where things go wrong and we discover Yannick is in fact an idiot of the highest order and a bit of a dick.
He hasn’t been invited in, in fact the Mr Taxi Driver doesn’t seem all that keen on inviting a strange kid into his house, and I don’t blame him at all. You see what I haven’t told you is that Yannick is wearing a hoody. Yeah, nuff said right? You watch the news and those happy slap videos on You Tube.
But Yannick – as I’ve already told you, is a dick.
He goes into this guys house and starts wandering around while the poor bloke is doing him a favour – he even goes upstairs.
Dude – not cool.
Not cool indeed, especially since Yannick discovers a blood soaked room with a man that has more guts out than in lying in the corner of it.
Bet you wish you’d stayed outside like a good boy and waited for the taxi now don’t you?
Too late for that now Mr Invasion of Privacy – let’s hope Mommy stopped boozing long enough to teach you how to play chess …
So I don’t want to spoil the rest of the film for you, but rest assured it isn’t your usual horror fare. I love it’s the characters and their askew view of morality – nothing makes me love a film more than a look into how good old fashioned family values and religious conviction can become so distorted in the wrong environment.
Its original, twisty and claustrophobically intense at times. The actors flawless portrayal of the dark side of suburbia is what makes this film a hidden gem of the past few years – Yes the Human Centipede was sick and interesting as an idea, and yeah ok, it was an alright film – you aren’t gonna want to watch it over and over on DVD and quote lines from the film with your friends, because A) That would make you a very disturbing person and B) The dialogue aint that quotable believe me, but the hype it accumulated still confuzzles me hugely when little screen diamonds like this have to be praised on little read blogs written by horror obsessive’s such as myself.
The ending is worth the wait, and even managed to make an impression on me, with my jaded attitude to the sludge the human brain creates when it wants to get all murdery and downright nasty.
The soundtrack – I covet it, the DVD – I fear my sanity without it, and You Lot – go out there and bloody watch it.
Well, well America, your little French speaking cousins are even putting you to shame now .. isn’t about time that you stopped thinking Radha Mitchell is the perfect female lead for any horror you have a reasonable budget for. Maybe you exec types should sit down and watch the abortion that was The Crazies remake and have a think about that. Hmmm?
Oh, and if anyone can point me in the direction of English translations for any of Patrick Senecal’s work, I would be grateful in a huggy way.