Film Review: THE COMPANY OF WOLVES (1984, Neil Jordan)

Stars: 3.6 of 5.
Running Time: 95 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Sarah Patterson (Cannon's SNOW WHITE), Angela Lansbury, David Warner (TWIN PEAKS Season 2, TIME AFTER TIME, TRON), Stephen Rea (STUCK, INTERVIEW WITH A VAMPIRE), Terence Stamp (THE LIMEY, THE HIT). Co-written by Angela Carter. Production design by Anton Furst.
Tag-line: "Where fairy stories meet horror stories!"
Best one-liner: "Never stray from the path, never eat a windfall apple and never trust a man whose eyebrows meet in the middle."

Neil Jordan's THE COMPANY OF WOLVES was designed as a 'Chinese Box' of a film, with flashbacks, fables, and folklore interwoven within a larger, dream/fantasy framework. The end result is kind of a meandering, avant-garde pseudo-narrative that never quite congeals, but I still liked it quite a bit. Cannon Films (who did not produce, but distributed stateside) marketed it as a horror/thriller, a label that is bound to disappoint. In fact, it's more like "Mario Bava's classy English brother does fairy tales on 'ludes"- which is a good thing. The film possesses a sumptuous, Gothic atmosphere, sort of Lewis Carroll by-way-of Edgar Allen Poe, and it owes much of its success to Anton Furst's (BATMAN, FULL METAL JACKET) production design. A grandfather clock sits in the midst of a fog-enshrouded forest, spinning its hands ceaselessly. Giant, hideous teddy bears and sinister dolls come to life, bounding about the underbrush with uncanny mobility:

Satan (Terence Stamp!), dressed to the nines, clutches a real-life pygmy skull and beckons to you from the comfort of his Rolls-Royce:

A long-lost husband (Stephen Rea) rips the fleshy mask from his face, revealing the sinewy, lupine monstrosity beneath. A pack of wolves- hypnotically photographed in slow motion- burst forth from a shorn oil painting, dashing down the furnished hallway to your bedroom...

Yes, this film certainly makes an impression. It's also injected with a dose of mythological protofeminism, channeled by Angela Carter, co-screenwriter and author of the texts on which the film is based. The cast is a talented ensemble: as our substitute Riding Hood, the actual pre-teen Sarah Patterson exhibits a maturity far beyond her years;

Angela Lansbury is exactly as ideal a fit as you'd imagine for 'Grandmother'; and the always-serviceable David Warner gives a stoic, weighty turn as 'Father.'

David Warner unloads the groceries.

In all, it's a solid phantasmagorical mood piece, but it will rankle those looking for a traditional narrative. Nearly four stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: HIGH SPIRITS (1988, Neil Jordan)

Stars: 2 of 5.
Running Time: 99 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Peter O' Toole, Steve Guttenberg, Jennifer Tilly, Peter Gallagher, Liam Neeson, Beverly D'Angelo, Darryl Hannah.
Tag-line: " He's an American. She's a ghost. Vacation romances are always a hassle."
Worst one-liner(s): "No respectable ghost would live in California!" OR "I'm dead. So this is what it feels like. Like a hangover." OR "You're a ghost, I'm an American. It would never work out." OR "I mean I know you like passive women, Jack, but she's dead!"
Only good line, courtesy of Peter O'Toole: "What is going on here? Eamon? Why are chunks of masonry floating about?"

Neil Jordan. Director of THE CRYING GAME and MONA LISA. Hell, let's stick INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE up there, too. This cast. Peter O'Toole, one of the finest actors of all time. Steve Guttenberg, one of the most infectiously fun American comedy actors of the 80's. Darryl Hannah with an Irish brogue that kinda flits in and out. Solid actors like Liam Neeson, Beverly D'Angelo, and Peter Gallagher in the small roles that most comedies don't even attempt to cast with quality. A creepy mansion comedy of manners in the vein of CLUE. All these things should add up to something that's at least watchable.

I wanted to like this movie. I wanted to like it SO MUCH. I love questionable cinema of the 1980's. I love the Gute. I love Irishmen. I AM an Irishman. I love Peter O'Toole. He's one of the greatest drunks of all time, and he's in a movie called "High Spirits!" This is the guy who once went for a drink in Paris and woke up in Corsica. The guy who went on a bender with Michael Caine, and when they awoke, Caine asked 'What time is it?' 'Never mind what time it is, what fucking day is it?!,' O'Toole replied, and sure enough it was two days later. Now, O'Toole is obviously wasted for real for the duration of this film, which is the only reason this earned two stars.


He's even drinking with Guttenberg in one scene. I should love this. But dammit, there's not enough O'Toole and Gute. There's somehow too much, AND not enough. Instead, we get smacked over the head with a parade of some of the worst forced laughs in film history. The film is trying SO HARD to wring a laugh from me here and there, and I am trying SO HARD to love it, and somehow ne'er the twain shall meet. That makes me sad, and it makes me exhausted. Worth a rent only if you fast-forward between all the O'Toole drinking scenes.

-Sean Gill