When movie fans discuss the most influential directors of all time, the name Clive Turner is usually at the top of the list. Like some sort of bizarre love child of Lynch and Tarantino, Turner exploded onto the scene with his masterpiece, Howling VII, and with that one film, defined post-modern primativism. In the limited space I have available, I will discuss my interpertation and views of Mr. Turner's awe-inspiring vision.
First, the character of the inspector. Just as Eastwood destroyed the myth of the remorseless gunfighter in Unforgiven, Turner destroys the myth of the police investigator. Turner's inspector isn't glamourous, he doesn't drive an expensive car, he doesn't solve crimes with only a few clues he carefully pieces together. Turner's inspector is so world-weary, so jaded, that he cannot even listen to a simple werewolf-on-the-loose story without taking a break to absorb all the information, because his mind is so haunted by his past cases, he simply cannot stop thinking about all the pain he has witnessed.
Turner even manages to reduce the werewolf, probably the most primative of monsters, into a simpler form. No CGI effects here, no elaborate camera tricks,. Just a very simplistic, very primative revealing of the monster hiding inside all of us.
One of the biggest complaints I have read about this film is Turner's use of "ordinary townpeople" rather that real "actors" in his film (this in a time when reality TV is considered the height of human achievement) This unique casting decision again shows Turner's devotion to post-modern primativism. No other director would dare to take a chance like this. "Real" actors could never have delivered the raw, primal emotions the performers in this movie demonstrate. I know I am not the only audience member to "Stand Up and Testify!" when Pappy (Turner's brilliant play on the authority-figure archtype) commands, nor am I the only one to recoil in horror at the sad, brutal reality of alcoholism and drug abuse as demonstrated in the song "Sit here and drink my good Christian beer."
The final point I would like to discuss is the line dancing, probably Turner's most powerful statement about our sad modern world. Notice how unhappy and robotic all the line dancers look. Turner is forcing us to confront our MTV controlled culture. No matter how unhappy or robotic we feel, we must follow and worship whatever MTV tells us is "cool." Don't like rap? Don't like boy-bands? Too bad, MTV says you must like it, and it is your duty as a good consumer to roboticly follow.
Howling VII, much like Rebel Without a Cause, Saturday Night Fever, and Pulp Fiction is a movie that defines a generation and causes us to re-examine the world we live in. Mr. Turner is trying to warn us: Stand up, testify, absorb the world around you, before you wake up one morning and discover there is dirt in YOUR chili.
First, the character of the inspector. Just as Eastwood destroyed the myth of the remorseless gunfighter in Unforgiven, Turner destroys the myth of the police investigator. Turner's inspector isn't glamourous, he doesn't drive an expensive car, he doesn't solve crimes with only a few clues he carefully pieces together. Turner's inspector is so world-weary, so jaded, that he cannot even listen to a simple werewolf-on-the-loose story without taking a break to absorb all the information, because his mind is so haunted by his past cases, he simply cannot stop thinking about all the pain he has witnessed.
Turner even manages to reduce the werewolf, probably the most primative of monsters, into a simpler form. No CGI effects here, no elaborate camera tricks,. Just a very simplistic, very primative revealing of the monster hiding inside all of us.
One of the biggest complaints I have read about this film is Turner's use of "ordinary townpeople" rather that real "actors" in his film (this in a time when reality TV is considered the height of human achievement) This unique casting decision again shows Turner's devotion to post-modern primativism. No other director would dare to take a chance like this. "Real" actors could never have delivered the raw, primal emotions the performers in this movie demonstrate. I know I am not the only audience member to "Stand Up and Testify!" when Pappy (Turner's brilliant play on the authority-figure archtype) commands, nor am I the only one to recoil in horror at the sad, brutal reality of alcoholism and drug abuse as demonstrated in the song "Sit here and drink my good Christian beer."
The final point I would like to discuss is the line dancing, probably Turner's most powerful statement about our sad modern world. Notice how unhappy and robotic all the line dancers look. Turner is forcing us to confront our MTV controlled culture. No matter how unhappy or robotic we feel, we must follow and worship whatever MTV tells us is "cool." Don't like rap? Don't like boy-bands? Too bad, MTV says you must like it, and it is your duty as a good consumer to roboticly follow.
Howling VII, much like Rebel Without a Cause, Saturday Night Fever, and Pulp Fiction is a movie that defines a generation and causes us to re-examine the world we live in. Mr. Turner is trying to warn us: Stand up, testify, absorb the world around you, before you wake up one morning and discover there is dirt in YOUR chili.