Horror
movies introduced us Mrs. Voorhees before we ever met her son Jason, as well as
Annie Wilkes in Misery, Asami
Yamazaki in Audition, and a host of
Japanese lady ghosts, with long flowing hair. Horror fans understand better
than anyone everyone is a potential serial killer, regardless how vulnerable
they might look. That doesn’t leave any room for sexism, but four (or five
counting the interstitial animation) women filmmakers will drive the point home
in the anthology film XX, which screened
at the 2017 Sundance Film Festival.
Jovanka
Vuckovic’s The Box is based on a Jack
Ketchum story rather than the previously adapted Richard Matheson tale, but the
vibes are not completely dissimilar. Thus far, Susan Jacobs has balanced
motherhood and her professional work quite well, but while on the train back to
the suburbs, she fails to adequately discourage her bratty son Danny from
looking in a stranger’s gift box. At the time, he has little reaction, but he
permanently loses his appetite thereafter. In addition, he seems to be able to
pass along the mysterious malady to other family members.
The Box has a terrific
look and feel that sort of brings to mind Todd Haynes’ Carol, but it is by far the better film. Vuckovic manages to give
it a fable-like vibe, yet also keep it concretely grounded in its sheltered
Westchester (or wherever) world. Natalie Brown is also quite compelling as the distressed
mother.
In
contrast, Annie Clark’s The Birthday
Party is played mostly for gory laughs, but they mostly land thanks to a
game cast. About an hour before her daughter’s meticulously planned birthday
party, Mary is alarmed to find her husband has dropped dead, so she goes to
extreme lengths to cover-up his death. It is a blackly comic
one-darned-thing-after-another yarn, but it features Sheila (A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night) Vand
as Carla, the intimidating and ridiculously glamorous housekeeper as a happy
bonus.
Roxanne
Benjamin’s Don’t Fall is easily the
most conventional of the assembled films in XX.
By day, a group of campers off-handedly discover some rock carvings, but by
night they realize they are not alone out there. Benjamin crafts some atmospheric
moments, but we have been here many times before.
Happily,
XX ends on a high note with Karyn
Kusama’s Her Only Living Son. Cora’s
son is about to turn eighteen and he is starting to exhibit behavioral problems—yet
none of the teachers or administrators at his school seem to alarmed by his sudden
aggression. Of course, we have our suspicions why that will be quickly
confirmed. Essentially, Kusama’s contribution is a clever riff on Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby, suggesting what might
have happened if the pregnant mother had ditched Ralph Bellamy for a real
doctor sooner. Kusama steadily cranks up the tension quite insidiously, while
Christina Kirk is really quite terrific as the ferociously protective Cora.
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