Pontypool Changes Everything

Words are weapons in Tony Burgess’ work. His novel Pontypool Changes Everything is much like its predecessor The Hellmouths of Bewdley in that it presents the everyday world as a dreamlike horror show where everything has degenerated into a terrifying abstract. Burgess heightens the metaphor (or obliterates it) by stating that the very concept of language is to blame. A virus has infected the language centers of the brain (or, as he says, language itself) to eat away at our reason and our sense of self. This is an expression of the Uncanny, because it is what we recognize in the world that makes it frightening.

Burgess presents Pontypool Changes Everything to the reader with apology, stating in an afterword to a later edition that it was written without the intention of being read, which makes Burgess a man who built a bomb with no intention of it ever going off. This is similar to the dedicatory statement that Mark Z. Danielewski attributes to his alter ego Johnny Truant at the beginning of House of Leaves, which promises the reader: “This is not for you.” After this introduction we are also given the dedication of Zampanó, the supposed author of the work, who asks simply: “Muss es sein?” ("Must it be?") Zampanó seems to be an avatar of scholarly pomposity for Danielewski, who delights in his creation’s penchant for pretentious quotation, often offering quotes in their original language with no translation (usually the translations are offered by the editorial voices credited with writing the copious footnotes that eat away at every chapter).

But even in this manner Danielewski, like Burgess, is using language to remind us that what we don’t know about what we think we do know is far greater and more terrifying than what we don’t know we don’t know because we never knew to know.

Both writers, in their own way, are using language as an expression of the Uncanny. While Burgess uses our concept of language to demonstrate this, Danielewski uses the words themselves to create  perilous patterns across the page. In House of Leaves the actual book is a weapon and not just the idea of one.

Burgess refines his concept beyond the abstract in Pontypool, the screen adaptation he wrote of his original novel. He rightly deems himself the perfect person to write this adaptation because of his absolute willingness to throw out the source material and start over. In so doing he creates a vision of the story that is even clearer in its depiction of the Uncanny. The film even builds to a startling moment of hope when Grant Mazzy delivers a speech that reminds us that if language is our construct, then we decide its shape, and in that way it is no different from our fear.

Even while Danielewski is trying to ensnare us with word-traps on the page, he provides us with this insight as well. Those who enter the house of leaves’ dark passages seeking monsters to hunt or be hunted by find them easily enough, while those who hold to humor and hope are offered at least the possibility of salvation.

In the final moments of Pontypool Mazzy repeats the mantra “we were never makin’ sense”, reminding us that words can’t destroy us any more than they can save us, because all language is itself a lie regardless of whether or not we’re actually saying what we think we mean. Kill is Kiss, or might as well be, but none of that really matters. We should laugh at the darkness and look out for U-boats until the final reel.

Pontypool becomes the full expression of the book it re-writes in adaptation. Like Felix Hoenikker in Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle, Burgess invented a bomb with Pontlypool Changes Everything with absolute indifference (to hear him say it) as to its impact. And like Hoenikker, when he later creates something that is meant to be more beneficial, he actually refines it into something with much more destructive capability. I should probably clarify that Burgess felt Pontypool was a more responsible story in regard to the audience, not necessarily “beneficial” to them. He felt he’d written something with the audience and story in mind. Hoenikker’s subsequent creation of Ice-Nine in Cat’s Cradle is no less indifferent than his contribution to the development of the bomb, but the purpose of the substance was not weaponization. That’s the extent of the comparison, I should say.

But the elegant irony that Pontypool is made with less apology and is much more skilled in its world destruction is what I’m getting at. While the film ends with a gloriously defiant monologue, it also ends with what we can assume is a nuking and/or firebombing of the radio station from which they are broadcasting. While Mazzy has learned the secret to defeating the virus, his exclamations are misinterpreted as manifestations of the symptomatic aphasia the virus causes. This is the ultimate ironic tragedy of the film. While Mazzy’s character lives and dies better in the film than in the book, his more altruistic incarnation bears the burden of being the one that brings the world down with him.

Silent House

The real time device has been played out, but this movie does something I always thought would be fun to try: A whole movie shot in one take. The device works well, but it's beautifully blocked out to reveal just the right elements at the right time.

Elizabeth Olsen does a great job, but as the story unfolds you'll find the character tiresome. Bear with it, though, it plays out.

It's important to point out that this is an American version of a Uruguayan movie called "The Silent House". I haven't seen that, but when I do I'll do follow-up.

This movie works really well and the continuous shot really makes the POV work. It doesn't have a lot of surprises, but the story pays off. The gimmick works, especially if you are interested in the process of making movies. They make a lot of great artistic choices and you can see a huge amount of smart preparation in the cinematography. But story's the most important thing, and this one will keep your interest. I recommend it.

The Dictator

After Borat, I really thought Sacha Baron Cohen wouldn't have a lot to offer, but I've been surprised by his last two movies. The Dictator is a little more grounded than Bruno, but only because it's an effective parody of the standard formula.

JUNK ALERT: Cohen hasn't lost his taste for slinging wang on screen, although it's not quite as pronounced in this one as it was in Bruno. Nothing audiences aren't used to by now. Even the new American Pie movie had some junxploitation. That's just the thing they do now to be edgy; they whip it out.

Overall, this movie is really fun and worth a watch. They don't lose sight of the concept even as they play out the formula, and that adds to the fun.

H.H. Holmes: America's First Serial Killer

This documentary is a bit by the numbers, like a History Channel special or something, and it sometimes goes into greater detail than I suspect is available in the actual records, but overall it's pretty interesting.

The story is about H.H. Holmes, a lunatic who built a castle in Chicago in the late 19th century. Purportedly it was a hotel, but in reality it was an elaborate maze filled with Dr. Phibes-style deathtraps and a medieval torture dungeon. Wild stuff.

Cropsey

This starts out as an interesting documentary about a Long Island urban legend, but it's not strictly speaking a story about an escaped mental patient who kills children. While it seems to stray from the premise and slip down the rabbit hole completely at times, the film explores a number of real life horrors actually residing in the Long Island area with the idea that they may have helped to inspire the legend.

From a broken down home for mentally disturbed children that was shut down after a Geraldo Rivera expose' to a secret cult of devil worshiping transients, this movie makes a business of following both real news and random speculation to illustrate how truth can be stranger than fiction. It doesn't hold up the whole way through, in my opinion, but they find enough interesting ideas to hold your interest.

Eyes of the Mothman

This is kind of amateur feeling and awkwardly paced for a documentary, but it's unnecessarily comprehensive if you're interested in the Mothman and want to hear everything there is to know about it.

One of the weirder monster stories, so if you want to hear all about it this is a good one to watch. Somehow, I think "The Mothman Prophecies" failed to cover it. Probably because the director that the idea of the Mothman was stupid. So why did he make a Mothman movie?

The Expendables 2

Big and badass, with a lot of extreme action. This is the kind of awesome I expected from the first one. Dolph has more screen time and his character is fleshed out better, which is the important thing. We need more Dolph on the big screen. He doesn't have a big fight scene, but he's around throughout and doesn't die, so all in all, a win. Also, more Willis and Schwarzenegger, which is fun. And Chuck Norris makes a cool appearance. And they beat the tar-shit out of Van Damme, which I support.

The ads boldly proclaim HEMSWORTH as one of the biggies in the film and I was like "hey, Thor's in this movie". But then it turns out to be his little brother Liam, who I never heard of but apparently he's in "Hunger Games". Not sure last-name-only identification works when you're one of three brothers active in the business.