THE LARRY FESSENDEN COLLECTION is a Revelation

by Liam O’Donnell

On the Glass Eye Pix website, Larry Fessenden has a variety of bios which you are invited to use. They run various lengths, and represent different points in his career. The 100 word Bio is as follows:

“Larry Fessenden is an actor and producer and the director of the art-horror movies NO TELLING, HABIT, WENDIGO and THE LAST WINTER, as well as he TV films SKIN AND BONES and BENEATH. He has produced dozens of movies including THE HOUSE OF THE DEVIL, STAKE LAND, WENDY AND LUCY and THE COMEDY and acted in TV and Film including LOUIE, THE STRAIN, BROKEN FLOWERS and THE BRAVE ONE. Fessenden has operated the production shingle Glass Eye Pix since 1985 with the mission of supporting individual voices in the arts. “

Clearly this bio seeks to inform you of aspects of his career: his directing, his producing, his acting and his work as founder and head of Glass Eye Pix. To put it mildly, Fessenden has been a force in independent genre cinema for more than 30 years. Glass Eye Pix, which began filming performance art as much as movies, has become one of the major players in independent genre cinema. Prior to getting this set to review I felt like I was familiar with the creative juggernaut that is Fessenden, and yet I was unfamiliar with his directing work. How can that be? Even if you have never heard of the four films featured in this set, the most casual fan of independent genre cinema must know about the work from his company: Glass Eye Pix. The House of the Devil, The Comedian, Stakeland, The Inn Keepers, Late Phases and I Sell The Dead are not universally loved films, but they are commonly discussed ones. Their impact on the face of independent cinema is significant. Glass Eye Pix has made a claim as part of the future, not only of horror, but of genre cinema in general. Fessenden has also made a number of memorable appearances across the spectrum of film and television. His work as a director most clearly represents his artistic output and his ability to meld classic horror tropes with personal story telling. This four film set collects not only Fessenden’s four features, but also a variety of short films, archival footage, behind the scenes, interviews, and music videos. It is, in essence, a primer for the work and mind of Fessenden. Alhough not every aspect of the set is as compelling as the whole, The Larry Fessenden collection is a testament to the imagination and vision of one of the most important voices in genre cinema today. Fessenden has somehow found a space that combines narrative, message, and genre into a potent and compelling mixture.

No Telling (The Frankenstein Complex)

The first film of the set, 1991’s No Telling sets the tone of Fessenden’s career, setting a relationship tale shot through with ecological concerns deep within the mythological frame of a classic Frankenstein riff. No Telling tells the story of a young urban couple spending a summer in the country. Lillian is an artist who has followed her husband Geoffrey to a small farm so he can continue his experiments. As the isolation works on the fissures in their marriage, Geoffrey’s work goes further and further afield of ethical, and Lillian is drawn towards Alex, a local environmentalist and activist. The film manages to juggle so many themes and ideas while never feeling scattered or ill conceived. Lillian is a complex character, brought to life with much skill by Miriam Healy-Louie. Her struggle is not just with the behavior and work of her husband, but against the expectations that she must conform to one side or the other. In this way, No Telling somehow manages to be a message film which never preaches. It paints an unapologetic picture of animal testing without demanding we see its mad scientist as without value. Yes, Alex’s work is easier to understand, but both he and Geoffrey are motivated by ego as well as by deeply altruistic impulses and a desire to win. Geoffrey, played by Stephen Ramsey, is in many ways a prick, but he is also convincingly sincere in his motivations, just as his ambition is sickening. It is a difficult character, and at times it feels more nuanced than Ramsey is capable of, but it never tanks the film.

The atmosphere of No Telling is the real triumph, and perhaps the earliest evidence that Fessenden had the seeds of a great career in him. Though the script of the film doesn’t focus on the more horrific aspects of the story, the camera work creates a feeling of tension and dread. Though critics at the time attacked the camera work, accusing it of aping from low budget horror, I think Fessenden was well aware of the ways in which his camera created a sense of space and tension. There is particularly a movie cam, reminiscent of Raimi’s work in the Evil Dead films, which is used not as a character, as Raimi does, but rather used to create a feeling of the power of nature. Nature, in this way, works as part of the narrative more than in the gruesome effects work in the Geoffrey’s lab. This is not to downplay the dramatic finale, which is more creepy than horrifying, but still works as an effective climax. No Telling is not just about the horror of science, though clearly Fessenden wants to tell us something about that. There is also the horror between people, as they struggle to know and be known. Lillian and Alex and Geoffrey and the ways they relate to each other and the community work as a microcosmic representation of the larger struggle and gulfs between people that affect the socio-political angle of No Telling. Fessenden shows here how his vision points beyond genre tropes, to a more humanistic story, but at the same time is unwilling to dismiss those horror elements. Rather, in keeping them, Fessenden questions in advance our assumptions both about the limitations of those horror conventions as well as about stories of romance and human striving. That is to say, the horror in these relationships and ambitions should be obvious, and Fessenden needs do very little work to make them shine through.

Habit

It’s autumn in New York. Sam has broken up with his girlfriend and his father has recently died. World-weary and sloppy drunk, he finds temporary solace in the arms of Anna, a mysterious vampire who draws him away from his friends and into a web of addiction and madness.

Habit is the one film in this collection which is not related to eco-terror in any way. Obviously, ecology and the massive global threat, which we all seem to be ignoring, is an important issue to Fessenden as it comes up so often in his work, yet Habit seems to be the most autobiographical of these films. Fessenden himself dealt with issues of addiction, so perhaps it makes sense that Habit‘s take on addiction, co-dependence, and the classic vampire tale should feel so viscerally personal. Either way, Habit is a powerful film which, much like No Telling walks a line between genre and dramatic filmmaking without ever fully swaying one way or the other. Perhaps that is an unfair description, as Habit refuses to merely suggest that Anna could be a vampire, or is some form of vampire, but eventually plays entirely into the traditional imagery of the vampire on film. This decision, I feel, simply further balances a film which could use the vampiric purely as a metaphor for things, and instead seems to leave the question open as to what is real precisely because it plays so hard into the vampire imagery.

While Habit is in many ways dreamlike, often walking us with Sam through a strange environment in which we are unsure what is real and what is not, it is also gritty in a way Fessenden’s other films are not. Fessenden casts New York and the young, bohemian environment as exactly the sort of transient and ephemeral conditions a vampire would need to move through. Fessenden plays Sam himself, giving him an edge which is harsh but also endearing. Sam is a hard drinking, hard smoking New Yorker, a not so young young man, still unsure as to where he fits and who he belongs to. He is a part of a community, but he is unmoored, lacking in any roots. Fessenden, in both his performance and directing casts the kind of stark NYC picture which I have come to love. The basement clubs, the late night parties, the cheap apartments world of New York seems a million years away at this point. Yet, it is, to my taste, the perfect backdrop for this manner of haunting story. The rest of the cast is adequate save one shining star, Meredith Snalder as Anna. Snalder was also in the original student film Fessender produced, and in both versions she lends a sense of gravitas and sensuality to a role that could easily fall into cliché. Anna is meant to be esoteric, endearing, sexy, and a bit creepy, all while suggesting she may or very well may not be the living dead. Snalder manages to add depth to the character without over complicating it. Even towards the end, when it seems as if Anna as full Nosferatu has been revealed, she manages admirably well.

Though Habit is a vampire tale, Sam, in a sense the victim of the Anna’s vampiric wiles, provides the momentum of the movie: his obsession, his falling apart, his trying to piece together his life while dealing with his parasitic relationship with Anna. Sam is a mess before Anna starts to take space in his life, and he is confused about who he is and what is real. Habit is an intensely raw and sexual film, but this is played less for eroticism than it is for intimacy. Habit feels like a story told in a whisper between friends, sharing not just the polished surface but the difficult to admit details. It not only has grit in the sense of something without guile, but also in the sense of something unfiltered. It is a kind of confession, and this makes it enchanting. Though there are some disturbing moments which build toward a dreadful ending, Habit waits until the final act to reveal those full genre elements, including full vampire teeth and a struggle to the death. For some, this ending of the film may feel too “on the nose” as previously the film had primarily suggested or hinted at genre aspects rather than fully enact them. I don’t agree though. Perhaps it is my cynical nature, but a film which gestures towards something as classic as the vampire but never fully revels in that world feels to me to be suggesting that this is not what it seems. In other words, though this may seem counterintuitive, by jumping full form into the vampire world at the end of the film Habit manages to maintain a balance for me which would otherwise cause me to lean the other way. If Sam is unsure, and the audience is unsure, then I am inclined to suspect it is in his head. Yet this ending, while it may seem to confirm his worst fears, simply expands the surrealistic edge of the film for me. Habit, despite being a bit dated and suffering from some wooden acting, succeeds at what could be a difficult story to tell. It is respectful and honors a genre while bending all of its tropes, and in doing so tells a compelling and haunting story.

Wendigo

On a snow-covered road in the woods of upstate New York, Manhattanites George and Kim, and their eight-year-old son Miles, drive to the country house where they’ll spend a much-needed weekend vacation. Suddenly, their car hits a deer, leading the shaken family to a terrifying encounter with the leader of a posse of local hunters that had been pursuing the animal. Miles witnesses the angry hunter’s “mercy killing” of the wounded stag though his parents do their best to protect him. As they settle into the farmhouse, the quiet and isolation begin to erode their sense of well-being, with the psychotic hunter seemingly at the root of it all. His menacing presence starts to consume the family. The adults cling tentatively to rationality for the sake of their child while Miles invokes the ferocious spirit of the Wendigo, a Native American myth made manifest in the young boy’s imagination.

In the special features for Wendigo Larry Fessenden talks about his early exposure to the Wendigo myth, and his desire ever since to tell the story in some form. In a sense, all four of his feature length films presented here relate to the Wendigo myth, if Habit does so indirectly. That is the Wendigo is a spirit of nature, of hunger, of insatiable greed and desire, and in a sense of vengeance. Unfortunately, of these four films, Wendigo is the least successful. This is due in no small part to a situation perhaps outside of Fessenden’s control. Wendigo is structured like a classic creature feature, and yet reduces the Wendigo spirit to a question of real or unreal, like Habit. However, unlike Habit, whose indeterminate nature simply lays the ground for higher tension and deeper wonder, Wendigo largely fails as its Wendigo fails. Watching the disc’s features, it is clear that Wendigo suffers from special effects issues. The effects, as originally conceived, simply did not work, and Fessenden had to go back over a year later for reshoots. The Wendigo as presented in the film appears mostly as a figment of Miles’ (played admirably by young Erik Per Sullivan) imagination. Granted, not entirely, as there are a few moments of agency, but largely things just happen in the film.

As the Wendigo in Wendigo fades more into the background as a haunting at the edges of the film, we are presented more with a character study, and, despite some talented performances, the movie doesn’t quite gel. Wendigo is not entirely a failure mind you. Patricia Clarkson and Jake Weber, as Miles’ parents, are still compelling. The story, though, without a stronger presence from the creature, is just comparably insubstantial and leaves much to be desired. There is not much to Wendigo, the characters are interesting but not endearing, and so their fates do not pull me in. Even Miles, the focus of the film, is not fleshed out enough to carry the film. Wendigo, while interesting, lacks some of the character of the other films in this box set. Its politics are also muddled, as Fessenden focuses on the clash between the locals and the invading city dwellers. As is often the case with Fessenden, perhaps he wishes to eschew the hero/ villain dichotomy. Yet, instead of getting two complicated sides of a clear cut issue, we are given two sets of people who are largely grating, with no clear issue between them. In fact, the environmental aspects which might give some dread to the presence of the Wendigo spirit are obscured by clear class differences. Are we meant to identify with these urban invaders or with their slack jawed local counterparts? More importantly to the tension of the film, why would the Wendigo choose sides, or does it?

I am getting harsh on this film because I found myself so enamored with the rest of this set. Yet, Wendigo is not a boring film, which is perhaps the greatest sin a genre film can commit. It just lacks in tension, as well as in deeper themes. Fessenden, in No Telling, marries the character drama and the genre film so wonderfully that I want the same from Wendigo. Yet in Wendigo, the characters occupy so little space that one can feel the vacuum left by the lack of compelling creature effects. Wendigo is perhaps frustrating because of its wasted potential given the opportunity to tell an unique story both mythologically and as a monster movie. However, for those curious to understand Fessenden as a creator, it is still a must see.

The Last Winter

In one of the most pristine landscapes in the world, a team working to exploit Alaskan oil resources is tormented by an unseen evil. After one crew member is found dead, a disorientation slowly claims the sanity of the other members of the team as each of them succumbs to an unknown fear.

The Last Winter seems to be the largest budget, most “Hollywood” production Fessenden has yet been a part of. That is not to say the film is some sort of slick blockbuster, but it definitely has more production value and star power than his previous efforts. It has a bit of that polished studio feel, even if the scope of the movie is still rather modest, and the film is undeniably injected with Fessenden’s character and vision. The Last Winter is the most clearly eco-terror of the four films in the box set, focusing as it does on the invasion of the oil industry into new and scary territories. Unfortunately, the actual danger of the melting of the polar ice caps and the horrors of climate change are a bit more visceral, for me, than the creatures which rise up in this Fessenden thriller. Still, even without a more present and persistent dread, The Last Winter is kinetic and engaging, and points an entertaining finger at an issue we must all grapple with and soon.

The cast all do outstanding work. The tension between Ron Perlman and James Le Gros was effective and compelling. Connie Britton and and Zach Gilford both worked well and added some depth to their characters, and while Kevin Corrigan was a bit of a caricature it worked for the film. The story is familiar: the struggle between those who represent a system or institution which fears change, and those who see that without some kind of change things are going to go horribly wrong. To that extent, and with the initial disappearances and deaths, the film works well. Perlman for my money is a lot of the reason for that. The sad old man, clinging to this last chance at greatness, a kind of sympathetic and also pathetic villain, is perhaps a bit of typecast for Perlman, but he always plays it beautifully. The idea of the creature in the film, a spirit or an hallucination or a sickness, but SOMETHING released from ice which is melting after thousands of years, well it works for me. Honestly, just thinking about it gives me some anxiety.

So it is with disappointment that I yet again point out a situation where the creature itself doesn’t work. The accidents, the crows, and the overriding presence of danger all work. The idea that folks would go crazy and turn on each other, or destroy themselves, or the creeping madness of the barren wasteland, or a vengeful ghost: in theory and mostly in practice this all works. However, there is a climactic scene where we see a spirit attack, a spirit which looks like a more cartoonish Wendigo, and this moment does not work. Luckily, the creature in this form, the vengeful ancient spirit now released from the ice, is not essential. The film shoulders on despite it, and the ending is viscerally effective. It seems though that Fessenden has, in this film, another problem where at least one element of the story relies on effects that simply do not work out for him. While this effectively deflates some of the tension, it did not ruin the film at all. I want, in a real way, to prefer The Last Winter to this film. The Last Winter, despite being less entertaining, feels like it has more heart and more of Fessenden on the screen than this film. I also, naturally, prefer that sort of DIY aesthetic to this mid-level horror that The Last Winter represents. However, The Last Winter is just a more skillfully crafted film. Its energy carries through, even if the film does not quite nail its message. We don’t need vengeful spirits to rise up for climate change to kill us: soon we will all be drowning or starving thanks to the oil industry and many others

SPECIAL FEATURES

This is perhaps the most difficult aspect of the box set to review, because there are HOURS of special features here for you to sink your teeth into. In fact, one could make a compelling argument that the special features on these discs are FAR more instructive in understanding the work and aesthetic of Fessenden than the features themselves. There are short films, including the original Habit, there are music videos, and behind the scenes and featurettes. Some of these are hugely instructive, I found the footage for both No Telling and Wendigo helpful for understanding those films and appreciating how they got made. The footage for The Last Winter is longer than the film itself, and was a SLOG to get through. To be fair, I did not do any of the commentaries, and this makes this review incomplete. There were so many things to watch that I simply could not do them all. I also never care too much about commentaries, though I have been told I must give them another try.

The Larry Fessenden collection stands as a testament to the mind and creativity of Fessenden almost as much as the amazing releases from Glass Eye Pix do. If you already enjoy Fessenden’s work, are interested in his company, or even just appreciate where indy horror has gone over the last 25 years, this is worth checking out. It was educational, entertaining, and a lot of fun.