Prime Time: The Club (1994)

The Club isn't a particularly terrifying, or original, horror film. It's a slick teen movie that peppers the runtime with moments attempting to show interesting character dilemmas and moments showing a grinning villain wisecracking as he dances around those who are in peril. Easy enough to forget, it somehow still has enough charm to make me want to save it from complete obscurity.

It's prom night. One couple (Kyle and Laura) are at a stage in their relationship when it looks like the best thing for them to do is go their separate ways. One couple (Amy and Evan) seem happy enough with one another, but there's a lecherous, and potentially dangerous, counsellor (Mr. Carver) to deal with. And one young man (Darren) is miserable enough to be considering suicide. The clocks stop at midnight, leaving these six characters alone and trying to figure out just what is going on, with a young man named John Rotman on hand to further mess with their minds.

Although director Brenton Spencer has a large body of TV work in his filmography, The Club is a rare non-TV feature for him, and the same goes for writer Robert C. Cooper (billed here without the middle initial). Perhaps that explains why this sometimes has a made-for-TV feel, but I can see it being potentially problematic when it came to raising the money for a horror film that wasn't part of a franchise heading downhill at this point. There are still genre gems to be found from this time but they're few and far between, with mainstream American horror feeling quite stagnant in the '90s, before the shot in the arm that came from Scream and the second shot that came from the success of The Blair Witch Project at the end of the decade.

The cast are a mixed bag. Rino Romano and Andrea Roth are a bit too bland as Evan and Amy, whereas Zack Ward and Kelli Taylor do better with their more troubled characters. Matthew Ferguson is okay in the role of Darren, although he's pretty much sidelined for most of the movie, with the exception of his one main scene, and the ever-enjoyable Kim Coates is as . . . enjoyable as ever in the role of Mr. Carver. J. H. Wyman (billed as Joel Wyner) is surprisingly good fun in the role of Rotman, although he only really comes into his own during the third act, when the script really lets him cut loose and become amusingly impish in almost every scene.

Although it takes a bit of time to get going, perhaps a bit too long for this kind of easy entertainment, The Club picks up enough after the opening third to at least keep viewers entertained until it's time for a few decent set-pieces. That's when you get some good practical effects and some fun confrontations that serve as practice runs for the real battles of wills to come during the grand finale.

Unlikely to make any top lists (unless it's something entitled "fairly enjoyable horror movies you may not have seen and could live without but just give them 90 minutes of your life anyway"), The Club is a decent little time-waster for the undemanding. It's no classic, and relatively bloodless, but it does exactly what it sets out to do.

6/10

You can watch the movie here.
Americans can watch it here.

MUBI and me, and Pablo Larrain.

Many of the movies that I view nowadays come from MUBI, a streaming service I considered carefully before signing up to me. Other services seemed like easy choices. Netflix had loads of movies, and their original shows were building up into a strong portfolio. Amazon Prime had some decent stuff on there, although if you have waded through the worst selections then you will see that they seem to allow people to upload ANYTHING in order to push quantity over quality, and also had the added advantage of free prime delivery options on many physical items (and I do love my physical media). And Shudder was advertised as Netflix for horror fans. Sold.

But MUBI was at a similar price point to some other streaming services, while only ever having 30 curated movies on there at any one time. I wasn't impressed by the idea, although I found myself browsing their current selection more and more often, and I found myself consistently impressed by a) what was on offer and b) what they had that I had previously never heard of. So I took the plunge, and I can easily say that I haven't ever had to regret that decision.

In fact, I probably use MUBI more than any of the other streaming services I have. Part of that is down to the selection of movies, but a larger part of it is due to the completist in me (one day I want to have all 30 movies watched, and be waiting to see what will be offered up next). I thoroughly recommend it to cinema lovers. Not only does it remove the element of procrastination that can come with browsing the other services, it also consistently throws up some absolute gems.

Two examples that come immediately to mind are Symbol (2009) and Scabbard Samurai (2010), two films directed by Hitoshi Matsumoto, someone I was already unwittingly familiar with, having also enjoyed the bizarre R100 (2013). All three of these films are HIGHLY recommended.

I wouldn't recommend the films of Filipino filmmaker Lav Diaz, on the other hand, who not only makes art that just doesn't work for me, but doesn't seem to be satisfied unless his films are at least 5 hours long. I am not exaggerating. It is also thanks to MUBI that I have endured a number of Diaz films. I have enjoyed one or two, have found moments to admire in others, and have been bored to tears as a large chunk of my days off have been used up exploring his filmography. Such is the downside of being determined to never shy away from any movie, and I am sure that Diaz has his fans. I am just not one of them. If you are tempted though, feel free to try this one. It is only 250 minutes long.

Pablo Larrain. Now HIM I am a fan of. And he was another filmmaker that I was familiar with without remembering, having seen Jackie (2016) and been thoroughly impressed by that riveting performance from Natalie Portman. It turns out that Jackie shares a lot of the qualities that Larrain has shown throughout his film career, so far, while also being as different as it needs to be, in order to showcase the story of such an American icon and physical symbol of public tragedy.

Indeed, Jackie sometimes feels more in line with the rest of Larrain's filmography than his debut feature, Fuga (2006), which looks at lives affected by music, madness, and a large helping of melancholia. It's surprisingly enjoyable, although also a bit more ultimately inconsequential than I expected it to be.

Things take a step up with his next film, Tony Manero (2008). Alfredo Castro (who also co-wrote the film with Mateo Iribarren and director Pablo Larrain) is superb as a rather unpleasant man tying all of his hopes to his ability to emulate the character played by John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever (hence the title). Sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes shocking, always entertaining, this is well worth your time. It's both a character study and a little look at Chile in the '70s.

Following that, we have Post Mortem (2010). Featuring another great central performance from Castro, this may not be as good as some of Larrain's other works, but it's still an interesting and worthwhile viewing experience, using the story of a morgue employee and his love for a burlesque dancer to also look, once again, at Chile of the '70s, and the end of Salvador Allende's presidency.

In 2012, Larrain gained a boost worldwide with the generally positive reception, from what I can recall, to No (2012). Gael Garcia Bernal plays an advertising exec type who ends up putting his efforts into the "No" campaign on the run up to the vote on whether or not General Pinochet should stay in power for another eight years. The acting is great, with Larrain-regular Alfredo Castro also doing more good work, Larrain directs with his usual assurance, and there's also a more specific sense of time and place given in this instance (speaking as an outsider not fully aware of the modern changing political and cultural landscape in Chile).

Moving from the serious to the not-so-serious, The Club was released in 2015. Well, I refer to it as being less serious but the uncomfortable subject matter and more squirm-inducing scenes hide what turns out to be a rather beautiful and haunting mix of pitch-black comedy and intense drama. The script is sharp, and all of the performances match it. For me, this remains Larrain's best work so far, but that may be because it relies less on knowledge of Chile, and what it has gone through in recent years. Or maybe it just IS his best film so far.

Which brings us back to 2016, in which Larrain gave us both Neruda and the aforementioned Jackie. Both are portraits of individuals, both take very different approaches. Neruda has a decent script, the lead performances are very good, and the whole thing feels like a very brief look in on the life of the main character, as opposed to a detailed overview of all of his achievements. Jackie feels like a more complete, traditional, look at a figure, framed in a way that allows for the usual moments you would expect from that kind of character study as well as a few times in which viewers seem to see a lot more than usual. A glimpse behind the mask being worn to face public scrutiny.

Larrain was born in 1976, making hiim a year younger than me. A year younger, and a hell of a lot more talented, dammit. And I will keep watching whatever he makes. I encourage you all to do the same. You won't be disappointed.

Because of discoveries like this, and others, I would also recommend MUBI to those looking to explore more and more areas of world cinema (note - this is NOT an ad, I just wanted an excuse to celebrate Larrain, and to share my rediscovered love of world cinema).

Buy this complete set, and enjoy - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Pablo-Larra%C3%ADn-Collection-Made-Chile/dp/B073V9Y3VF/ref=sr_1_1?s=dvd&ie=UTF8&qid=1510909532&sr=1-1&keywords=pablo+larrain