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[Butcher Block] Chaos Reigns with Visceral Pain in ‘Antichrist’

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Butcher Block is a weekly series celebrating horror’s most extreme films and the minds behind them. Dedicated to graphic gore and splatter, each week will explore the dark, the disturbed, and the depraved in horror, and the blood and guts involved. For the films that use special effects of gore as an art form, and the fans that revel in the carnage, this series is for you.

Lars von Trier films tend to be polarizing. They’re confrontational, controversial, and challenging on an emotional and psychological level, topped off with von Trier’s artful and languid pace. They also tend to be von Trier working through his feelings, either with humor or chaos, or both. Such is the case with Antichrist, a film that kicks off what’s been dubbed the Depression Trilogy (followed by Melancholia and Nymphomaniac). Written while hospitalized for a depressive episode, Antichrist was influenced by von Trier’s anxieties and despair. It shows. An unrelenting nightmare of grief and mourning, this film is an uncomfortable watch that crescendos in shocking violence.

The film opens with a monochrome prologue that sees She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) and He (Willem Dafoe) deep in the throes of passion, so much so that they’re completely oblivious that their young son has freed himself from his crib and toddled his way over and out the window to his death. The grief consumes She to the point of hospitalization and a slew of prescription drugs. He happens to be a psychotherapist and decides to take his wife’s care on himself. He convinces her to flush her prescriptions down the toilet and come away with him to an isolated cabin in the woods to confront her fears. What could go wrong? His ego proves damning as her fears seem to be interwoven with the eternal struggle between man and woman.

Throughout the film, He learns more and more about She’s previous thesis studies in Eden; specifically, historical violence against women throughout the centuries, including witch hunts. But her interpretation of the research leads her to believe that woman is evil. He may have intended for the excursion to heal her, but instead, it lets loose her psychosis and anxieties. It culminates in her finally snapping, accusing him of wanting to leave her. Spoilers for those who haven’t yet seen the movie: She attacks, smashing his groin with a large grindstone and then sexually assaulting him while he’s unconscious from the pain. She then drills a hole in his leg to bind a grinding wheel to it. Because she perceives herself as evil, she takes a pair of scissors to her genitals in an unflinching act of self-mutilation.

For these key moments of violence, enter special makeup effects artists Morten Jacobsen (The House That Jack Built, The Square) and Thomas Foldberg (When Animals Dream), both regular collaborators of von Trier’s. They cast a silicone leg for Dafoe, soft and squishy like flesh with a bone through it. It’s effectively hyper-realistic, and it had to be- remember the part about von Trier’s film being confrontational? He zooms in on the acts of violence and uses long-takes. Meaning that he gets up close and personal with the gore. That also means that von Trier doesn’t shy away from showing She’s self-mutilation in intimate detail.

When Jacobsen and Foldberg read the script, they thought this moment would be a cutaway or quick shot and were surprised to learn von Trier wanted to show it in implicit detail. They crafted a silicone cast of Gainsbourg’s body double, from navel to mid-thigh. Multiple interchangeable vagina parts were created, and the silicone cast had a hollow tube through the core so they could pump blood through it during that crucial scissor snip.

Antichrist is a grueling experience. It has developed a reputation for its confrontational depiction of mutilation and sexual violence, but it’s done with purpose. Not that it makes the film any less of a bleak journey. There are a lot of layers to dissect, themes of nature and religion, and a depiction of mourning and depression that can feel oppressive. That it was conceived as a horror film pushes it even further into divisive territory. All of which to say, Antichrist is designed to be an uncomfortable watch and succeeds in that goal on every level.

Chaos reigns.

Horror journalist, RT Top Critic, and Critics Choice Association member. Co-Host of the Bloody Disgusting Podcast. Has appeared on PBS series' Monstrum, served on the SXSW Midnighter shorts jury, and moderated horror panels for WonderCon and SeriesFest.

Editorials

‘Arachnid’ – Revisiting the 2001 Spider Horror Movie Featuring Massive Practical Effects

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arachnid

A new breed of creature-features was unleashed in the 1990s and continued well into the next decade. Shaking off the ecological messaging of the past, these monsters existed for the sake of pure mayhem. Just to name a few: Tremors, The Relic, Anaconda, Godzilla, Deep Rising and Lake Placid all showcased this trend of irreverent creature chaos. Reptiles and other scaly beasts proved to be a popular source of inspiration for these films, but for that extra crawly experience, bugs were the best and quickest route. Spiders, in particular, led some of the worst infestations on screen in the early 2000s. And on the underbelly of this creeping new wave — specifically the direct-to-video sector — hangs an overlooked offering of spider horror: Arachnid.

In 2000, Brian Yuzna and Julio Fernández launched the Spanish production company Fantastic Factory. The Filmax banner’s objective was to create modestly budgeted genre films for international distribution. And while they achieved their goal — a total of nine English-language films were produced and shipped all across the globe — Fantastic Factory ultimately closed up shop after only five years. Arachnid, directed by Jack Sholder (Alone in the Dark, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, The Hidden) and based on a script by Mark Sevi, was the second project from the short-lived genre house. Yuzna was drawn to the concept largely because of its universal appeal; a monster was marketable in any region, regardless of cultural preferences or restrictions. There was also the fact that spiders give everyone a case of the heebie-jeebies.

By having extraterrestrial forces be the cause of the spiders’ mutism and immensity as well as other urgent problems within the story, Arachnid incidentally pays respect to Hollywood’s golden age of schlock filmmaking. The opening sequence indeed shows a stealth plane’s pilot (Jesús Cabrero) trailing a UFO and its translucent passenger to an island in the South Pacific, but the alien business is kept to a minimum going forward. There is no time to process this seismic revelation of life beyond Earth before moving on to the film’s central plot. 

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Pictured: Alex Reid, Chris Potter and Neus Asensi’s characters get trapped in the spider’s web in Arachnid.

Several months since the E.T. was last sighted — and after being snuffed out by one of its own accidental creations — a medical team from Guam heads to Celebes (better known as Sulawesi nowadays), in search of whatever is behind a new illness. The doctors (played by José Sancho and Neus Asensi) already suspected a spider bite, although they failed to consider the biter could be the size of a tank. With The Descent’s Alex Reid as the snarky pilot of this doomed expedition, one who has ulterior motives for accepting the job, the film’s core characters go off in search of a spider and, hopefully, a cure.

The title makes it seem as if there is only the one arachnid in the story, but once Chris Potter and Reid’s characters plus their team step foot on the island, they encounter other altered arthropods. Yuzna felt Sevi’s script needed more creatures along the way, especially before the spider showed up in full view. The bug horror commences as one gunsman succumbs to a burrowing breed of crab-sized ticks, and random characters fend off a horrific centipede with reptilian qualities. These are just the appetizers before the greatest arachnid of them all arrives. The late Ravil Isyanov, here playing a zealous but sympathetic arachnologist, becomes a human Lunchable for the spider’s eggs. And one of the doctors gets a face full of corrosive spider spew. So, there is no shortage of grisly predation in the film, with a few bits of the monsters’ handiwork possessing a haunting quality to them.

Shot quickly and cheaply, Arachnid is fast-food horror. It’s convenient and designed for immediate consumption, and will likely not linger on the palate. Usually there is not a lot worth remembering with these slapdash genre productions, however, this is one case of spider horror where the extra effort made a difference. Apart from the egregious use of digital imagery in the outset, Jack Sholder’s film primarily employs practical effects. And these are not rubber spiders dangling from strings or being flung at the actors, either. Fantastic Factory aimed much higher by securing DDTSFX (Pan’s Labyrinth, Hellboy II: The Golden Army) and creature designer and makeup artist Steve Johnson (Species, Blade II).

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Pictured: One of the spider’s web-covered victims in Arachnid.

Arachnid, while far from flawless, somewhat redeems itself by having chosen practical effects and animatronics over CGI, which had become the new normal in these kinds of films. And this class of creature-feature was definitely not getting the sort of advanced VFX found in the likes of Eight Legged Freaks. Steve Johnson’s spider was not the easiest prop to work with, and it lacks the movement and versatility of a digital depiction. However, there is no beating that sense of weight and occupation of space that makes a tangible monster more intimidating. Viewers will have trouble recalling the human characters long after watching Arachnid, yet the humongous headliner remains the stuff of nightmares.

Over the years, the director has spoken critically of the film. He originally held off on agreeing to the offer to direct in hopes that another project, a Steven Seagal picture, would finally manifest. No such luck, and Sholder accepted Arachnid only on account of his needing the work. He said of the film: “I thought I could […] make it halfway decent, but I discovered there wasn’t a whole lot I could do.” Nevertheless, Sholder’s experience as a director of not exactly high-brow yet still rather entertaining horror is evident in what he has since called a “dud.” While there is no denying the reality and outcome of Arachnid, even the most mediocre films have their strokes of brilliance, small as they may be.

Arachnid

Pictured: The poster for Arachnid.

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