A Chronicle of Corpses

People who hate this seem to be disappointed that it fails as a graphic horror film, despite its serial-slaying storyline. People who like it take it for what it is: An art film in the most slow, minimalist, rigorously formal, non-naturalistic mode, closer to "Last Year at Marienbad," "Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant," et al. than any regular genre flick. I'm not saying films of this nature, which apply a very abstract technique to narrative cinema, can't be dull as dishwater or inexcusably pretentious when they fail. But for me, "Corpses" really does cast a hypnotic spell, its disconnections from period accuracy and melodramatic norm enigmatic rather than just arbitrary and annoying. Though I can understand why some folk would think it has exactly those last qualities. This movie is like an Andy Milligan bloodbath directed by Terence Davies--which is a wonderful combination by my taste, but naturally would be off-putting or simply incomprehensible to others. Regardless: Amidst several very stiff (yet nonetheless effective) amateur performances, soap opera veteran Marj Dusay is amazing in her long, stock-still late monologue about the family's sinful past. I can't believe this was made by a 22-year-old director; it's got the astringency of 70-year-old Dreyer or Bresson. Not to say it's an achievement equal with theirs--but I am very fond of it.