White of the Eye (1987)

When discussing the career of Donald Cammell, its inevitable that the term “wasted talent” or “potential” are brought into the conversation. This is both understandable and a bit unfair as well. To a certain extent, its understandable as Cammell only managed to direct four feature films and one short during a cinematic career that spanned from 1968 until his suicide in 1996. On the other hand, despite the fact that his filmograpy only boasts four titles, those four are truly unique and individual films bearing the signature of a distinct personality. Cammell’s directorial career began on shaky ground following the editing issues faced by Cammell and Nicolas Roeg’s co-directorial debut, the controversial Mick Jagger led head trip Performance (1970) and seven years would pass before Cammell would sit in the director’s chair again with Demon Seed (1977), one of the most underrated sci-fi films of the 70’s, and yet another decade would pass before another feature from Cammell would surface. The reasons behind Cammell’s erratic career are many, and its no secret how stubborn Cammell was, with a staunch no compromise policy which hindered many potential film projects, yet when left to his creative devices such an attitude became warranted. Case in point, 1987’s White of the Eye, Cammell’s penultimate feature and quite possibly his greatest achievement, a flawlessly cast 80’s horror masterpiece ripe with Native American mythology and giallo-esque murder set pieces.

In and around the small town community of Globe, Arizona, a series of brutal murders have been taking place with rich housewives being targeted by a maniac leaving elaborately staged crime scenes resembling ancient Apache rituals. After matching a set of tires found at one of the crime scenes, detective Charles Mendoza (Art Evans) becomes especially interested in Paul White (David Keith), a local family man and an installer of high-end audio equipment to a wealthy clientele. Joan (Cathy Moriarty), Paul’s loving wife of ten years doesn’t believe in the slightest that Paul has anything to do with the murders, however she has been suspicious of an infidelity and while dealing with one marital issue is confronted with a side of her husband she never thought imaginable.

Marketed as a serial killer film, very little of White of the Eye resembles any other film to fall under the serial killer umbrella. Although the murder investigation does play a major role in the film, White of the Eye is no police procedural, with Cammell using the concept of the serial killer as a springboard to bounce other ideas off of. The majority of the film centers around the relationship between Paul and Joan, cutting back and forth between the present as past (with the flashbacks bleached out in post giving them a highly contrasted look, an innovative technical move), establishing the evolution of their marriage with Joan’s former lover Mike also playing a huge role. Cammell makes exceptional use of the time spent with Paul and Joan, setting them up as the perfect couple, very much in love and great parents to a young daughter, however much like Hitchcock did with Shadow of a Doubt (1943) and Lynch with Blue Velvet (1986), the shattering of the perfect façade has ten times the impact once subsequent events begin to unfold and the film takes a turn for the psychotic, although in truth the film was off-center from the start with Cammell’s quirkiness giving the film a very peculiar sense of humor which oddly doesn’t at all clash with its moments of brutality. The cast of side characters are equally eccentric and although brilliant throughout the entire film, its during the films final third where Keith puts on a clinic, becoming thoroughly unhinged.

The film was co-written by Cammell and his wife China who also has a small role in the film. According to actor Alan Rosenberg who plays Joan’s former boyfriend Mike, the Cammell’s employed very curious casting techniques. Rosenberg recalls while auditioning actresses to the play the part of a murder victim who succumbs to drowning, the Cammell’s would actually repeatedly dunk the actresses heads in and out a bathtub. Its not the only case of China’s curious casting methods. In their essential book Donald Cammell: A Life on the Wild Side, biographers Rebecca and Sam Umland write that during the casting of what would ultimately become Cammell’s final film, Wild Side (1995), in order to be sure whomever was cast would be comfortable playing a lesbian, China would proceed to French kiss all the potential players. It wasn’t a very popular process. White of the Eye is also important in that it’s the only one of Cammell’s features that was more or less released with Cammell’s original vision completely intact, with no producer interference or editing woes unlike Performance, Demon Seed and Wild Side. Although it essentially disappeared as soon as it was released, the film is thankfully readily available and if any film is worthy of a bigger following, its White of the Eye. An absolute must watch for anyone interested in Cammell and for horror fans looking for something very different.

Puffball (2007)

Depressing as it is, it should come as no surprise that certain visionary filmmakers have been forced to take extended absences in-between projects given various cultural changes which in turn lead to changes in the film industry. Nicolas Roeg is one such visionary filmmaker who’s experienced this side effect of his chosen profession first hand. While speaking to The Guardian in 2008, Roeg spoke openly about this challenge, singling out marketing departments in particular, stating “Hopefully to people that love film the climate is receptive to the work I do, but there is a sense of control from people within the industry that I have to constantly grapple with. Marketing is such a key issue; in fact the marketing department is often involved in the approval of scripts now. They really don't know how to market the films I make…” Following Two Deaths (1995), Roeg took a 12 year sabbatical from theatrical features although he managed to stay busy working on various projects for television including “Hotel Paradise”, a 1995 episode of the anthology series Erotic Tales, the experimental short film The Sound of Claudia Schiffer (2000) as well as two feature-length made-for-TV films, Full Body Massage (1995) and Samson and Delilah (1996). Finally, in 2007 Roeg made a long overdue return to both theaters and the horror genre with Puffball, an extraordinary work that, unsurprisingly, was misunderstood by many from the get-go.

Liffey (Kelly Reilly), a young architect arrives in a small north Ireland village along with her boyfriend Richard to renovate an old cottage. Not long after arriving, Liffey discovers, much to her shock, that she is pregnant. As it turns out, Liffey’s closest neighbor Mabs (Miranda Richardson) has been trying unsuccessfully to have another child. Upon hearing of Liffey’s pregnancy, the superstitious Mabs along with her sister Carol and witchcraft practicing mother Molly (Rita Tushingham) begin to believe that Liffey has stolen the baby Mabs has been trying so desperately to have, leading Molly to place a hex on Liffey and her unborn child.

Occasionally subtitled “The Devil’s Eyeball” on some releases, Puffball is an unusual, deeply unsettling film that, much like other Roeg films such as Don’t Look Now (1973), Eureka (1983) and Cold Heaven (1991) questions where mere superstition ends and the supernatural begins. Ripe with Pagan mysticism, witchcraft and several references to the Norse god Odin, otherworldly forces are plentiful throughout Puffball which Roeg plays around with masterfully, particularly as it relates to the psychological aspects of the film. Funnily enough, one of Roeg’s favorite subjects regarding the supernatural, telepathy and psychic ability, is mysteriously missing from this witches brew, however the bad magic utilized in the film certainly has a mental component to it. Roeg even manages to squeeze in some slight hints of reincarnation as well. Right from the opening credits Roeg establishes a mood of uneasiness which permeates the entire film thanks in no small part to the northern Irish locations. Naturally gorgeous, the area also possesses an undeniable mystic quality making it equally ominous as it is beautiful and Roeg wasting none of its potential. Roeg also sustains a sense of dread throughout through various technical techniques, namely sound design which at times is almost Lynchian with its disquieting drones, taking any seemingly “normal” scenario and making it oddly threatening. Some interesting editing and use of slow motion also make an already off-center and eerie feeling film downright terrifying in parts and the frightening presence of Rita Tushingham as the witchy Molly takes the film into nightmarish territory at times.

The film was based on the novel of the same name by Fay Weldon with a script penned by son Dan. Of course, it wasn’t an easy project to get off the ground. Even getting the script to Roeg proved to be a challenge. In the same Guardian piece mentioned above, Roeg recounted the slightly humorous story of never actually getting the script that was sent to him by Weldon, stating "I'd been sent the script by Dan Weldon (Fay's son) but for some reason or other I never actually received it. About six months went by and then Dan phoned to ask whether the project was something that interested me and of course I had to tell him that I never got it.” Roeg also stated the film  encountered a number of other road blocks along the way as well, funding issues especially, eventually becoming a three-way co-production between the UK, Ireland and Canada. To use Roeg’s description, the film was critically “mauled” upon release and frustratingly has yet to actually see a home video release in North America. Its true, Puffball epitomizes the term “acquired taste” and will not appeal to those content with being spoon-fed Hollywood horror reliant on nothing but cheap jump scares. For adventurous viewers however, Puffball is a singular type of horror that only Roeg and a select few other artists are capable of conjuring up.