Skip to main content

I am you, and you are me, and we are here. I am the dreamer. You are the dream.

Communion
(1989)

(SPOILERS) Whitley Strieber’s Communion: A True Story was published in 1987, at which point the author (who would also pen Communion’s screenplay) had seen two of his novels adapted for the cinema (Wolfen and The Hunger), so he could hardly claim ignorance of the way Hollywood – or filmmaking generally – worked. So why then, did he entrust the translation of a highly personal work, an admission of/ confrontation with hidden demons/ experiences, to the auteur who unleashed Howling II and The Marsupials: Howling III upon an undeserving world? The answer seems to be that Strieber already knew director Philippe Mora, and the latter was genuinely interested in the authors’ uncanny encounters. Which is well and good and honourable, but the film entirely fails to deliver the stuff of cinematic legend. Except maybe in a negative sense.


Strieber professes dismay at the results, citing improvised scenes and additional themes, and Walken’s rendition of Whitley Strieber, protagonist (“If the shoe fits”, the actor responded when the author said his performance was unhinged). Certainly, Mora is frequently tone deaf (or visually impaired) in his choices, not just in depicting the phenomena themselves, but also the hugely inappropriate Eric Clapton guitar score, one that belongs in a swaggering neon ‘80s cop show (to give Clapton his due, his work on Edge of Darkness four years earlier is justly celebrated). 


Communion perished at the box office, taking in less than $2m. Worse, it was roundly ridiculed, even by critics usually enamoured of Christopher Walken’s particular brand of quirk (it’s fair to say that, whatever Strieber actually experienced, they should have been more fearful of Walken-Strieber than he of them). The novel itself was memorably mocked by the greatest of all The X-Files contributors, Darin Morgan, in his exemplary episode to end all episodes, Jose Chung’s ‘From Outer Space’ (compare the covers below).



The book received much attention at the time, reaching Number One on the non-fiction New York Times Best Seller list and selling two million copies (Transformation, the follow-up, from which the movie also takes material, was banished to the fiction charts, seemingly in response to the less than charitable reception of Strieber’s claims). It became something of a gatekeeper to the alien abduction phenomenon, an accessible way into such material if one didn’t wish to plough through Linda Moulton-Howe’s great swathes of cattle mutilations, even though Strieber himself was non-committal on whether these were actually extra-terrestrial encounters. Strieber would later take in the gamut of ongoing encounters stemming from childhood, crop circles, parallel universes and time travel in his attempts to makes sense of his drastically rearranged paradigm: in all, a pretty comprehensive medley of high strangeness.


With regard to the alien explanation, Strieber suggested as alternatives that they might rather be mental experiences, or might derive from an earthly source, while the director statedThe movie is agnostic” on the question of life on other planets. Which did nothing to allay the mirth and mischief-making that arose from certain elements; “Sure, there was stuff that turned out to be notorious, like the ‘anal probe’ and ‘little blue midgets’”. Of the latter “blue doctors”, Strieber observed they were quite accurate, although “more clearly depicted”. Nearly a decade later, South Park would begin its interminable run with Cartman getting an anal probe; seen or not, read or not, Communion has a permanent place in the cultural consciousness. It would be another four years before The X-Files touched down, and with it a presentation of the abduction phenomenon viewers could actually get behind.


Strieber: Was there an owl in here last night?

Although, curiously, David Lynch’s (and Mark Frost’s) Twin Peaks would explore the occult connections between UFOs and sinister, wooded environments just over a year after Mora. As such, it forms something of a natural next step between the two (although, X-Files’ over-arching scepticism is not so much all-inclusive as increasingly blighted by lacking any semblance of internal continuity). Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind had transmuted the unnerving aspects of UFOs into a cause for celebration. E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial compounded that.  Come the end of the ‘80s, and the phenomenon was paraded in much less benign clothing. 


Both Communion and Twin Peaks feature abductions from woods, unsettling goings-on in remote cabins, missing time, damn peculiar dancing and owls. The owls are not what they seem, and their eyes are oft-paralleled with the visage of the classic grey alien. One can only imagine how much more respectfully Communion would have been received had it been filtered through a Lynch-like vision, rather than Mora’s (although, given how dissatisfied Strieber was, it would no doubt also have found disfavour)


Anne Strieber: You were frightened by a Halloween mask.

The occult connection also features in the Halloween celebrations. One might note – apropos of something or nothing – that Walken wears a miniature trunk on his nose prior to hallucinating a guest as a mantis alien; elephantine aliens are referenced in both the recent Corey Goode material and the Wachowskis’ Jupiter Ascending (the latter being another case of, if this is really purported disclosure material why are the disclosers hell-bent on depositing it in ropey fare no one wants to see… Oh). Then again, there’s a Mr Elephant Head in a spacesuit in Alien, until he turned out not to be three decades later. The Halloween/mantis is actually one of Communion’s rare strong moments, as is Walken witnessing a bus full of insects (“It’s an ambush!”). 


Walken, dancing about in a ridiculously pseud-ish hat, is a great compere for the goings-on, keeping things interesting even when all else fails, and making up somewhat for Mora’s deficit in self-awareness over the inherent absurdity. The picture is irretrievably damaged by its director’s inability to give it shape, and when it comes to Walken in a nappy, dry ice billowing around, accompanied by a bouncy castle alien, the battle for taking seriously the anal intruder and blue trolls (which although rudimentary, have a certain menace) is inevitably lost.


Recent conversation has focussed increasingly on alien abductions as the work of human interlopers (while not dismissing the alien component), although The X-Files got in there quite early on (Jose Chung’s, with its human dressed as an alien having a cigarette; cigarette odour also form part of Strieber’s observed abduction data), with the renewed X-Files posited by some as paving the way to disclosure. It’s interesting to look at Communion through such a lens, as little here would disagree with the human interpretation (although I’m unsure quite where the blue midgets fit). 


It’s very noticeable that the greys in Mora’s film appear mask-like (or inflatable…); when Walken removes one’s “visor”, a reptilian form lurks beneath (“Is there something under that, because I don’t believe that one?”) Strieber comments “It’s like um, a box, a Chinese box” and concludes of the Grey, “You’re not going to let me see you, are you?” The author has gone into some detail about his associations with, and distrust of, the CIA (“a satanic monstrosity”), and his childhood intelligence testing, so, whether consciously or not, he appears to have pieced together an interpretation of the puzzle; possibly he just completed it upside down.


Strieber: I think they gave you a gift. Better use it.

Ultimately, though, what may or may not be a nefariously manufactured experience (by persons taking Strieber away throughout his life, ensuring it becomes a generational thing), is given a positive spin in terms of personal transformation. Certainly, within the movie narrative, the protagonist’s writer’s block is untapped (“I’m going to write about this, us”) and in reality it has been a career windfall for the author (one might propose that “whoever it was” picked him for precisely this reason). 


The therapy scenes enable wife Anne (Lindsay Crouse) to affirm that the experience was at least partly shared, and, anchored by Frances Sternhagen’s sympathetic shrink, these at least have a degree of substance (generally, the picture is very well cast, with Andreas Katsulas also appearing as jittery friend Alex; Katsulas went on to play reptilian ambassador G’Kar in Babylon 5, a series its creator Jean Micheal Straczynski furnished with an alien race called the Striebs).


Strieber: I am you, and you are me, and we are here. I am the dreamer. You are the dream.

The biggest problem with Mora’s direction isn’t his circumspection regarding the materiality of Strieber’s encounters. Rather, it’s that his complete lack of flair with the experiential sequences unravels the is it/isn’t it real component. There’s a desperate shortage of imagination here, so, while as viewers we don’t necessarily buy into the temporal lobe epilepsy explanation, it’s his wife’s corroboration under hypnosis rather than unintentionally hilarious flashbacks that encourage us to think something quantitative may happened. 


Likewise, Katsulas recalling strange tales (“In the mountains there are many mines. Strange men were seen, little and tough. They were called Cobalts, the people of the lower depths”) is much more evocative than the “reveals”’. The flashbacks only detract from and mock the message, and its easy to see why Strieber would want to disassociate himself from the results.


And yet, for all that Communion fails to do the abduction phenomenon justice, and, in retrospect, almost seems to be fishing for a mocking response thanks to the rudimentary nature of its director’s visualisations, it remains an interesting picture. Its open-mindedness makes it more of a conversation piece than more literal fare (say, Fire in the Sky). And, it’s got Chris Walken. Getting an anal probe (“How dare you!”). And dancing. There’s a point, with such ingredients, that a certain demented magnificence takes hold.



Comments

  1. Cobalt is an element or color. Clearly you must mean Kobolds as that is what the 'Alex' character says in the film. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobold

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Darth, I wasn't sure how his reference was spelled (although, I am aware what cobalt is): illuminating link.

      Delete
  2. No worries, common typo. Incidentally, I think it is such a common typo that it has led to not many people in the west knowing a lot about the kobolds Alex speaks of in the film.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
My willingness to give writer Daniel Waters some slack on the grounds of early glories sometimes pays off (Sex and Death 101) and sometimes, as with this messy and indistinct Young Adult adaptation, it doesn’t. If Vampire Academy plods along as a less than innovative smart-mouthed Buffy rip-off that might be because, if you added vampires to Heathers, you would probably get something not so far from the world of Joss Whedon. Unfortunately inspiration is a low ebb throughout, not helped any by tepid direction from Daniel’s sometimes-reliable brother Mark and a couple of hopelessly plankish leads who do their best to dampen down any wit that occasionally attempts to surface.

I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

You’re never the same man twice.

The Man Who Haunted Himself (1970)
(SPOILERS) Roger Moore playing dual roles? It sounds like an unintentionally amusing prospect for audiences accustomed to the actor’s “Raise an eyebrow” method of acting. Consequently, this post-Saint pre-Bond role (in which he does offer some notable eyebrow acting) is more of a curiosity for the quality of Sir Rog’s performance than the out-there premise that can’t quite sustain the picture’s running time. It is telling that the same story was adapted for an episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents 15 years earlier, since the uncanny idea at its core feels like a much better fit for a trim 50 minute anthology series.

Basil Dearden directs, and co-adapted the screenplay from Anthony Armstrong’s novel The Strange Case of Mr Pelham. Dearden started out with Ealing, helming several Will Hay pictures and a segment of Dead of Night (one might imagine a shortened version of this tale ending up there, or in any of the portmanteau horrors that arrived in the year…

Romulan ale should be illegal.

Star Trek: Nemesis (2002)
(SPOILERS) Out of the ST:NG movies, Star Trek: Nemesis seems to provoke the most outrage among fans, the reasons mostly appearing to boil down to continuity and character work. In the case of the former, while I can appreciate the beef, I’m not enough of an aficionado to get too worked up. In the case of the latter, well, the less of the strained inter-relationships between this bunch that make it to the screen, the better (director Stuart Baird reportedly cut more than fifty minutes from the picture, most of it relating to underscoring the crew, leading to a quip by Stewart that while an Actor’s Cut would include the excised footage, a Director’s one would probably be even shorter). Even being largely unswayed by such concerns, though, Nemesis isn’t very good. It wants to hit the same kind of dramatic high notes as The Wrath of Khan (naturally, it’s always bloody Khan) but repeatedly drifts into an out-of-tune dirge.

‘Cos I’m the gringo who always delivers.

American Made (2017)
(SPOILERS) This is definitely more the sort of thing Tom Cruise should be doing, a movie that relies both on his boyish™ charm and at least has pretensions of ever so slightly pushing the envelope of standard multiplex fare, rather than desperately attaching himself to an impersonal franchise (The Mummy) or flailingly attempting to kick start one (Jack Reacher: Never Go Back); remember when Cruise wouldn’t even go near sequels (for about 20 years, The Color of Money aside, and then only the one series)? American Made is still victim to the tendency of his movies to feel superstar-fitted rather than remaining as punchy as they might be on paper (Made’s never quite as satirically sharp as it wants to be), but it at least doesn’t lead its audience by the nose.

Rejoice! The broken are the more evolved. Rejoice.

Split (2016)
(SPOILERS) M Night Shyamalan went from the toast of twist-based filmmaking to a one-trick pony to the object of abject ridicule in the space of only a couple of pictures: quite a feat. Along the way, I’ve managed to miss several of his pictures, including his last, The Visit, regarded as something of a re-locating of his footing in the low budget horror arena. Split continues that genre readjustment, another Blumhouse production, one that also manages to bridge the gap with the fare that made him famous. But it’s a thematically uneasy film, marrying shlock and serious subject matter in ways that don’t always quite gel.

Shyamalan has seized on a horror staple – nubile teenage girls in peril, prey to a psychotic antagonist – and, no doubt with the best intentions, attempted to warp it. But, in so doing, he has dragged in themes and threads from other, more meritable fare, with the consequence that, in the end, the conflicting positions rather subvert his attempts at subversion…

By Jove, the natives are restless tonight.

The Avengers 4.17: Small Game for Big Hunters
I wonder if Death at Bargain Prices’ camping scene, suggestive of an exotic clime but based in a department store, was an inspiration for Small Game For Big Hunters’ more protracted excursion to the African country of Kalaya… in Hertfordshire. Gerry O’Hara, in his second of two episodes for the show again delivers on the atmosphere, making the most of Philip Levene’s teleplay.

Two hundred thousand pounds, for this outstanding example of British pulchritude and learning.

The Avengers 4.18: The Girl From Auntie
I’ve mentioned that a few of these episodes have changed in my appreciation since I last watched the series, and The Girl from Auntie constitutes a very pronounced uptick. Indeed, I don’t know how I failed to rate highly the estimable Liz Fraser filling in for Diana Rigg – mostly absent, on holiday –for the proceedings (taking a not dissimilar amateur impostor-cum-sidekick role to Fenella Fielding in the earlier The Charmers). I could watch Fraser all day, and it’s only a shame this was her single appearance in the show.

Old Boggy walks on Lammas Eve.

Jeeves and Wooster 2.5: Kidnapped  (aka The Mysterious Stranger)
Kidnapped continues the saga of Chuffnell Hall. Having said of 2.4 that the best Wodehouse adaptations tend to stick closely to the text, this one is an exception that proves the rule, diverging significantly yet still scoring with its highly preposterous additions.

Jeeves: Tis old boggy. He be abroad tonight. He be heading for the railway station.
Gone are many of the imbroglios involving Stoker and Glossop (the estimable Roger Brierley), including the contesting of the former’s uncle’s will. Also gone, sadly, is the inebriated Brinkley throwing potatoes at Stoker, which surely would have been enormous fun. Instead, we concentrate on Bertie being locked aboard Stoker’s yacht in order to secure his marriage to Pauline (as per the novel), Chuffy tailing Pauline in disguise (so there’s a different/additional reason for Stoker to believe Bertie and she spent the night together, this time at a pub en route to Chufnell Hall) and …

Cally. Help us, Cally. Help Auron.

Blake's 7 3.7: Children of Auron

Roger Parkes goes a considerable way towards redeeming himself for the slop that was Voice from the Past with his second script for the series, and newcomer Andrew Morgan shows promise as a director that never really fulfilled itself in his work on Doctor Who (but was evident in Knights of God, the 1987 TV series featuring Gareth Thomas).

Never compare me to the mayor in Jaws! Never!

Ghostbusters (2016)
(SPOILERS) Paul Feig is a better director than Ivan Reitman, or at very least he’s savvy enough to gather technicians around him who make his films look good, but that hasn’t helped make his Ghostbusters remake (or reboot) a better movie than the original, and that’s even with the original not even being that great a movie in the first place.

Along which lines, I’d lay no claims to the 1984 movie being some kind of auteurist gem, but it does make some capital from the polarising forces of Aykroyd’s ultra-geekiness on the subject of spooks and Murray’s “I’m just here for the asides” irreverence. In contrast, Feig’s picture is all about treating the subject as he does any other genre, be it cop, or spy, or romcom. There’s no great affection, merely a reliably professional approach, one minded to ensure that a generous quota of gags (on-topic not required) can be pumped out via abundant improv sessions.

So there’s nothing terribly wrong with Ghostbusters, but aside from …