Disney's Damaging Ideals: An Illustration

I stumbled across a very interesting article lately, in which a New Zealand-based illustrator re-imagines five Disney princesses in the context of some of the gender stereotypes and negative messages found in Disney movies. This kind of thing is not new, but what interested me more was one of the comments found at the bottom of the article, which said:

"we must keep in mind this is not anti disney. this is anti-fairy tales, on which the disney movies, etc are all based. so does this mean fairytales are now bad? are we overthinking this whole thing or is this really damaging to kids' self esteem, etc?"

I will have to disagree with the commenter and say that this article is very much anti-Disney, or at least, very anti-Disney portrayal of the original fairy tales. I will also have to disagree with the fact that the illustrator/writer seems to be "overthinking the whole thing." This is also a comment I get a lot when I criticize Disney movies for their happy-go-lucky portrayal of boy-meets-girl, boy-saves-girl, boy-and-girl-live-happily-ever-after. That, or "You're such a feminist," which annoys me to no end. Not because I'm not a feminist, but one is not a feminist simply because she engages in the act of critical thinking. This is not feminism, but rather, education - something that defies gender roles.

One of the reasons why this comment bothers me so much is that the commenter obviously does not know much about the history regarding the fairy tales on which many Disney movies are based. As a kid, you tend to just go with the mainstream stuff and not bother to research historical influences behind the bigger story, but as an adult, you have a whole library - literal and otherwise - at your disposal. There's no reason not to do some research before blurting out blanket statements, especially if you're trying to argue a point.

The "fairy tales" that the commenter brings up, many of them stories taken from the Grimm Brothers, were often very different from their on-screen Disney interpretations. I won't get into all the nitty-gritty stuff (although I find it all rather fascinating), but suffice to say, these stories were often much darker and more nuanced than their Disney counterparts. This article touches on some of these major differences. One of the more revealing points:

"Many American children have grown up completely unaware that the concept of a prince saving a princess is a distinctly Disney idea. The classic fairy tales often involve feminine strength and an urging of women to be able to outsmart her predators. If a girl is not able to outsmart her attacker, she is simply killed. This is evidenced quite well in Perrault's Little Red Riding Hood and the Brothers Grimm tale of Little Red Cap. A comparison of the two stories will bring to light the idea that if a young girl is smart enough, she can outwit any predator - even a hungry wolf. The girl in Little Red Cap is able to do just that, and escapes with her life. Contrarily, the heroine of Little Red Riding Hood is not quite clever enough, and she is "gobbled up" (Perrault 13)."

The original point that the commenter tries to make, "This [article] is anti-fairy-tales..." is therefore factually incorrect. The illustrator is not attacking the original fairy tales at all. The article very much focuses specifically on Disney's portrayal of those fairy tales, and how such portrayals limit the perspectives that viewers - particularly young viewers, which are Disney's target audience - receive upon watching them.

I know plenty of people, friends included, who believe I'm taking the whole Disney-is-misogynistic stream-of-thought way too seriously, and personally, they couldn't care less about gender roles or cheesy endings so long as the songs are good and they are entertained. Which is perfectly fine with me. I understand that everyone has different tastes, and mine tend to be a little extreme. The difference is, all of these people are adults who are old enough to at least be aware that there are different interpretations out there. They can choose to like and enjoy Disney movies in spite of these interpretations, and that's perfectly within their prerogative.

Kids, on the other hand, don't have this choice - most of them can't make the distinction between Disney interpretations of the fairy tales and other interpretations, simply because they have not been alive long enough to realize that such a distinction exists. They don't realize that the typical 'Disney fairytale' is not the only story out there; it wasn't even the prevailing story out there at one point in time. As a result, I believe many kids who grow upwatching Disney movies (and I'll have to give Disney marketing a lot of credit; this category includes most kids) grow up believing in the validity and relevance of these stories to their modern day lives. Which, when taking into account the incredibly limited gender roles and black-and-white storylines present in the films, particularly the famous Disney Princesses films, can be problematic.

I'm imagining a little girl who has just finished watching Aladdin sadly asking her mom, "Mom, why aren't I pretty like Jasmine? How come no boy likes me?" Or, another little girl, after watching Sleeping Beauty, wondering, "Mom, how do I find my Prince Charming?" Or even perhaps a conflicted little boy wondering why he isn't macho and well-built like all those princes that his female classmates admire. And this is just surface-level stuff. Believe me, there are a lot more emotionally unsettling questions I could ask. Kids have strong imaginations and they usually aren't afraid to say what they're thinking. 

In these instances, there is of course room for parents to give carefully thought-out, politically correct answers: "Honey, it doesn't matter what you look like, it's what's on the inside that counts" or "Love will happen when you least expect it, dear. Don't you worry." I'm sure parents can and do respond to such inquiries in loving and thoughtful ways, probably more so than the few sugary responses I dreamed up. (Unless of course the parents are also those who never questioned the distinction in the first place - little girls and boys who grew up believing that they, too, would always find their happily-ever-after, if they fit the right formula.)

But the truth is, when it comes down to it, these ARE the messages that society is giving to little girls and little boys - in particular, these are the very messages that Disney is passing on with their incredibly limited versions of the original fairy tales. You will be loved only if you are beautiful, young, and kind. If you are beautiful, young, and kind, an equally handsome, young, and kind man will sweep you off your feet and save you in a moment of great turmoil. You will live happily ever after. And usually all of this will only happen if you are white (or a person of color in love with a white person). 

On the other hand, if you are fat, ugly, not heterosexual, or deviate from the gender/social/ethnic norm in a significant way, you are relegated to the role of the villain. You will be cruel to animals and wear their skins as coats. You will be defeated by the good guy and be forever confined to a lonely life of misery. If you are an ugly girl who has a more beautiful girl for a sister, you will forever be banished to life as a spinster living in squalor. Spinsters are evil and unwanted and a girl's worst nightmare!

Obviously these are slight exaggerations, but the echo of truth is there. Kids are highly impressionable creatures, and Disney movies, even today, when they are not at their prime, have a lot of influence. How many of us still remember the movies we watched as kids? I'm confident in saying that there are many of us out there, and many more to come. Entertainment plays a large role in American society; movies in particular will forever occupy a special place of nostalgia during childhood and adolescence. Our beliefs and perspectives are formed by what we experience around us on a regular basis; the stories that are shared with us by adults are stories that we in turn give our kids, and so on. Disney's legacy is limitless - and yet, I don't see this as a positive thing. If anything, it's the very opposite.

There is nothing wrong with liking Disney movies and encouraging others to watch them. But, it is problematic to assume that doing so, without any additional discussion or questioning of the themes, will not result in mainstream thinking that mirrors the messages found in the movies. Obviously Disney is not the only culprit in perpetuating limiting gender roles and black-and-white ideas (look at a lot of TV these days), but it also can't be denied that they play a large role in how many young people come to see the world. Sure, Disney may not be trying to get some big political message across with their films (maybe I'm giving them too much credit in that arena); but the fact of the matter is, because of their high visibility and popularity, they have that potential. With great power comes great responsibility, right? Parents often get hung up (and rightfully so) on the fact that there is an incredible amount of violence and sex in movies these days - both which are seen as damaging influences on developing minds. What about damaging ideas? Aren't they just as, if not more, dangerous? Who will regulate those?

Rurouni Kenshin Live-Action Movie

I was lucky enough this month to see an English-subbed version of the recent live-action adaptation of Rurouni Kenshin, alternatively known as Samurai X in the U.S. It's based on one of the most popular anime series ever made and is very highly anticipated by anime geeks, and fans of Japanese cinema, all over the world (I use the term "geeks" endearingly, of course).

Going into the movie the first time, in which I watched the whole thing in Japanese with no subtitles, I had little idea of what Kenshin is about. The anime was definitely popular when I was in high school and a lot of my friends were obsessed with it, so I knew the basic premise but that was it. I'm not sure why I never watched it, except that maybe I was preoccupied with some other anime at the time, like Naruto or Bleach. Anyway, all I knew about the story was that Kenshin was a former assassin-turned-wanderer ("Rurouni" means "wanderer" in Japanese, but I didn't know that going into the movie either), and that the trailer for the film had looked really good. As my co-worker put it, I was pretty much going into the movie blind.

You might wonder how I could understand the movie without subtitles. Well, other than the major plot points and some bits and pieces of dialogue here and there, I really didn't. Since the film is set in 1878, some of the dialogue, particularly Kenshin's, uses very old, traditional, and uber-polite Japanese so I understood even less than I might have. However, the movie did a great job of telling the story visually, so I got the gist of what was going on, even if I didn't get the verbal quips that had the audience chuckling from time to time.

Visually, this movie is a masterpiece. Everything from the period costumes to the scenery, and even small details like Kenshin's hairstyle and sword, all fit together incredibly well. Kenshin does a great job of using light, and a lack of it, to differentiate between present scenes and flashbacks. You really get a sense of Kenshin's two selves based on images alone. If anything, people should watch the movie for a healthy dose of cinematography, done by a studio that knows how to best utilize the actors and scenery, rather than rely solely on special effects or camera movement, to evoke mood and emotion. (Fortunately, the adaptation was not made by Hollywood, which, let's face it, tends to blow adaptations of pretty much anything, though it is backed by Warner Bros.)  

It also doesn't hurt that the main characters are very attractive-looking people and well-suited for their roles, especially the actor who plays Kenshin, Takeru Sato (who also happens to be from Saitama, the area where I am currently living!). Traditional garb may not work well on everyone, but you'd never guess that from looking at Kenshin or the heroine, Kaoru.

In terms of acting, everyone plays their parts well. The villains are fairly one-dimensional, but that doesn't bother me too much since they tried to cover a lot of ground in a little over two hours. It's the main cast, however, that gives the film its grip. This was made all the more obvious during the first viewing when I couldn't understand a lot of what people were saying. Acting well is about so much more than merely delivering the dialogue, since voice inflection, facial expressions, and general body language all contribute to the character's look and feel as well.

I was particularly impressed with Takeru Sato because in both the series and the movie, Kenshin has to be both a ruthless assassin as well as a gentle and soft-spoken wanderer. The movie highlights both his past and his present in almost equal proportions, so it was important for the actor to get both sides of the character right. 

Needless to say, Sato does an amazingly believable job, from simple scenes to crucial ones. The one near the end where Kenshin momentarily resorts back to his "battosai" (assassin) persona is one of the most riveting scenes in the entire film. The expression on his face and the change in his voice - it's like seeing a completely different person, and all in the span of a few seconds. I find it really hard to believe that Sato is only 23 years old, because he embodies someone so much more mature and well-spoken on screen. (Not that 23-year-olds can't be mature or well-spoken, but Kenshin is supposed to be in his mid-30s at least, and I never would have guessed that Sato was under 30.)

My absolute favorite part of Kenshin, however, has to be the fight scenes. They 're probably the scenes that hardcore fans of the series most look forward to, especially since Kenshin is supposed to be the best assassin in Japan with unmatched sword skills. He can cut down a person with a sword like nobody's business and moves with an agility that seems un-human. 

The cool thing about the fight scenes in Kenshin is that there don't seem to be any special effects at play, other than the minimal use of wires on some of the actors. But even that is done in a way that has the action staying within realistic realms, without becoming too overwrought or cheesy. Not only is Sato a good actor (can you tell I like this guy?), but he moves like an athlete on screen. I'm pretty sure everyone in the audience was captivated by his agility and grace during those fight scenes.

Besides beautiful choreography, what truly brings the fight scenes to life is the awesome music. You can hear some of it in the trailer, and the soundtrack in the film fits the movie like a glove. It's just prominent enough to give each scene that extra boost, but unlike in DKR or in some other action movies, the music doesn't overtake the actors or remove the viewer from what's happening. I also loved that it sounds modern and traditional at the same time, which isn't what I was expecting going into a period film. And the song that plays during the credits is really captivating as well, so much so that I didn't even mind sitting through it to the very end (a Japanese custom in theaters).

Overall, I'm glad I got to see the movie twice, once in Japanese and once with English subtitles. It's one of those movies that you immediately want to watch again after the credits start rolling, and from what I've read and heard from other people, it's a pretty faithful adaptation of the beloved series. Kenshin combines multiple story-lines to make a captivating adaptation fit for fans and newbies alike. It's certainly strong enough to stand on its own as one of the best movies of the year. 

Highly recommended. It's too bad there isn't a release date for the U.S. yet.

Tip: If you currently live in Japan, you can watch Rurouni Kenshin with English subtitles at Toho Cinemas in Roppongi! 

Audition leaves a horrific taste in mouth, but predictably so

Warning: Contains spoilers and gory details

As a fan of the Asian extreme genre, I was surprised that I didn't enjoy Takashi Miike's groundbreaking horror film Audition, his first and most famous of films, as much as I expected to.

With that said, my not liking the film doesn't have much to do with its failure to live up to the genre's expectations - its ability to shock and disgust audiences was not lost on me, and the infamously climatic scene near the end was enough to render me speechless for at least a couple minutes (and momentarily queasy for another ten).

What struck me most about the film, however, was not the full-fledged violence in all its glory (as only Miike could bring to the screen) but the curious in-balance that occurred between the first half of the movie, in which our two main characters are introduced and carefully drawn out, and the latter half of the movie, which collapsed all characterization that had previously been built up in favor of slasher-film techniques.

The gratuitous torture scenes, while effective in making the audience squirm (so much in fact, that its exhibition at the Rotterdam Film Festival had a record number of walk-outs, including one viewer who fainted and needed immediate medical attention), were more showy than substantial and ended up defining the film rather than supplementing it. If I wanted pure violence, I would have watched a slasher flick instead.

My main problem with purely slasher flicks is that they have one purpose and one purpose only: to put it crudely, they proceed to visually rape the mind over the span of ninety or so minutes. Some people might get a kick out of that, and I'm not one to judge people's eccentricities, god forbid, but that's not what I'm looking for when I watch movies - not even the scary ones. Slasher flicks don't require strong characters or an effective plot-line because the whole point of the genre is to highlight a series of visually commanding (and usually disgusting) images for the viewer's benefit. It's pure Hollywood tradition - the bigger the guns (i.e. the more gruesome images you can muster), the more effective your film will be, skill and subtlety not included. Slasher flicks don't require a great screen-writer. Hell, they don't even need a good director. All they really need is a lot of realistic special effects, innovative torture devices designed specifically for scenes, and (I presume) a lot of blood and screaming actors. Needless to say, the modern cinema spectacle is not my cup of tea.

Is Audition a slasher flick? No. At least, it didn't start off as one. The plot follows the widower Aoyoma, a slightly dim-witted but decent man, who finds unmarried life too lonely for his tastes and is persuaded to hold an "audition" to find a new woman to marry. During the audition, a young, shy woman with a tender voice and poignant story (she loves ballet, but can no longer dance to an injury) immediately catches his eye and they begin a relationship that seems promising at first but of course (as the viewer knows from the get-go), turns into the stuff of nightmares - concluding with the famous torture scene, where she *SPOILER* proceeds to amputate his leg with a piano wire, among other equally grisly stuff. (And yes, they show everything.)

A lot of critics have called this a twisted feminist critique of what happens to bad men in a world where women are repeatedly mistreated and objectified, but I see some gaping problems with this assertion. The first is that I'm thoroughly sick of this genre. The whole dilemma featuring sweet little girls who secretly harbor a desire to hurt men and will stop at nothing to get their revenge has never appealed to me. In movies like that, I usually end up feeling more disgusted by the girl's behavior than that of the man. This is not because I'm anti-feminist (although the term is way too loaded for me to get into in this post) or because I necessarily disagree with the fact that in many ways, we still live in a patriarchal society where men hold most of the power.

Political convictions aside, I have just never found the female protagonist in those sorts of film likable, or even believable. Period. They're usually so self-righteous, so up-in-your-face about what they're setting out to "fix," that anything they do becomes downright annoying rather than enlightening. Case in point: Ellen Page's character in Hard Candy, a film with a similar direction as Audition. A fourteen-year-old girl sets out to punish a pedophile/pervert. Why? Because she can. Because she possesses the innocent charm of a smart but ultimately misguided girl. Honestly, she was just a prick who talked too much. By the time the film was half over, I wanted to see her under the razor rather than Patrick Wilson.

The whole power reversal regarding gender dynamics is an intriguing topic to filmmakers, I'm sure (A man torturing a woman? Boring. But a woman torturing a man - oh wow, it's never been done before AND it's a social taboo, so how can anyone resist?), but it doesn't automatically translate to a good movie - just like extreme violence doesn't necessarily make a good Asian extreme flick (although it does seem hard to find one without the other).

I actually liked the character of Aoyoma. I liked the relationship he had with his son, and to me his loneliness seemed so prominent, his intrigue with Asami (aka crazy psycho girl) so genuine that I wanted to cut him some slack. The audition wasn't even his idea. Okay, so maybe he should have had the balls to actually find his own girls to date, but I mean, the guy was cut off from the social world for a good amount of time before he decided to suddenly jump back in; does he really deserve to lose a foot for his (somewhat honest and a little stupid) mistake?

My point is, why build up Aoyoma's character just to tear him down? If Miike wanted a film where the woman demands retribution for the terrible treatment she has been subject to, why direct it at someone who doesn't even deserve it? Maybe the violent scenes would have been more effective if I didn't actually care about the victim but to me, they just seemed irrational and conflicted with the overall integrity of the film.

The line that killed it for me was when Asami, dressed in her half-nurse, half-butcher style outfit and ready to commence her amputation wire tactics, says with malice, "All you men are the same. You tell girls you love them, but you only want sex." Um, no. Sorry girl, but that doesn't fly. You're the one who took off all your clothes and climbed into bed when he wanted to go out and see the park or something. What exactly does that prove? Obviously Asami is a very disturbed character, with a very dark past involving some very bad men, but I thought her character was too neatly cliched - ironically, her being so extreme and unreasonable made it impossible for her to step out of that immediate archetype of formerly-innocent-girl-turned-evil. Maybe I wasn't supposed to feel sympathy for her, but I don't think I was supposed to hate her either. She didn't creep me out; she just pissed me off. Is that what feminism is? Women who hate men so much that they become inhuman? For a distinctly "feminist" film, the protagonist seems to be giving women everywhere a bad name.

All in all, Audition was not a very innovative film. The violence was shocking and horrifying, sure, but it wasn't satisfying. The climax is the only reason to watch the film (if only because Miike dares to go places that even violent masters like Peckinpah and Woo avoid), but there's not much else that makes it stand out.

For a film by Miike that's just as grisly but features character dynamics that aren't predictable or stifling, watch Ichi the Killer instead.

Relish Foreign Films: Let The Right One In Film Review

Originally published as a Westwind blog entry


My favorite film of 2008. Totally should have been nominated for an Oscar. The Academy sucks.

Recently I had the opportunity to see Let The Right One In, the Swedish vampire film that recently won a bunch of awards at several film festivals, including the Rotten Tomatoes Consensus Award (when I last checked, it had only ten reviews but all of them were positive, giving it 100% on rottentomatoes.com) and Best Narrative Feature at the Tribeca Film Festival.

I didn't know much about it going in - I didn't even bother to watch the trailer, partially because I feel like a lot of trailers these days give a misleading impression of the actual movie, probably for marketing reasons more than anything else - but I must say, Let The Right One In is one of the best horror movies I've seen in a long time. Watching it reminded me of how much I love foreign films, and not just because they contain wonderful subtitles that keep you better on par with the basic plotline.

I like foreign films because they tend to deviate from the typical blockbuster clichés that Hollywood loves to spoon-feed us. Even though many (okay, most) of the horror scenes were rather campy and purposely outrageous, their flawless execution made them entertaining to watch on-screen. I don't know, maybe I have a thing for vampire movies, but my usual dislike for slasher flicks (or gratuitous violence for no real purpose other than to shock the audience) was momentarily suspended when I watched certain scenes last night. Although in hindsight the movie itself was by no means a slasher film and thinking back on it, most of the serious violence occurred off-screen anyway.

The cinematography and casting were both really well done and I loved the actress who played Eli, a 12-year old vampire. There was just something truly alien about her that drew the audience in- maybe it was in the way her eyes would change colors depending on the lighting in the scene (sometimes they looked completely black, other times a murky blue) or how she looked so young but sounded and smiled like someone who's seen the ways of the world. Whatever it was, this actress pulled off the role tremendously well. Her sophistication in the movie made me wonder how old the actual actress is, so I tried googling her afterwards but nothing really came up (a downside of watching non-mainstream movies).

The romance in the film was a good offset to the dark undertone as well - not too overboard but still a good backdrop for the story that unfolds. I remember one reviewer

on rottentomatoes.com comparing it to Twilight (you can read it here), the international bestseller also involving vampire-human romance that’s coincidentally going to hit theaters soon, and I was somewhat irritated because when I think of Twilight, I automatically think one-dimensional.

Stephanie Meyer doesn't ever really show Edward gnawing on a human's neck or describe what his face looks like right after he's had a meal (not very pleasant, unless you enjoy the sight of blood). In Let the Right One In, vampires are savages, serious predators who aren't afraid to hunt and destroy in order to survive (and when they bite you, it hurts), and the filmmakers don't shy away from showing it – all of it. At the same time, the savage nature of the typical vampire is also heavily nuanced, as in one minute I was thinking, "Man, that Eli girl is downright VICIOUS!" (Does the fact that I say this somewhat with a sense of glee make me a bad person?) and another minute: "Oh, poor little vampire girl...She desperately needs a hug."

Needless to say, I think all things worth watching should have nuances of gray in what seems to be a black and white situation. I refuse to see things purely in black and white for the same reasons why I dislike the blockbuster genre (as a general rule - though there are certain blockbuster movies I enjoy) : 1) It's predictable, which often leads to boredom, and 2) It's not realistic. Now by realistic I don't mean realistic in the sense that it could happen in real life as we know it today – this would totally rule out any sci-fi or fantasy potential, which are two genres I've grown to really like. But realistic as in: Can I see it happening in an alternate universe where all things are possible and yet, somehow life still makes sense at the end? It's a paradox, I know, and I'm not so sure I understand it myself. But it's like that one Nietzsche quote:

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."

Now replace "love" with "movies" and that's what I mean when I use the word "realistic." Not every detail in a film has to make sense in the long run (although the ones that do are usually good films), but when too many of the details don’t make sense, or are just plain absurb, the sheer lack of coherency, as well as lack of believability (in the same loose sense that I've been using these rather concrete terms), makes the story annoying rather than endearing.

Now this is not to say that I don't enjoy a little absurdity every now and then, because I do (I really liked The Science of Sleep, for example, and half of that movie went right over my head. The style of Requiem for a Dream was also appealing for the same reason. And don't get me started about The Dreamers). I just don't like walking away from a movie feeling like the filmmaker made it just because he could, that he made the movie because he's a filmmaker and that's what filmmakers do. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. If you're going to do something, make some effort to do it well.

To some extent, I believe in Oscar Wilde's philosophy, or the notion that “all art is useless,” sheerly for the sake of being art, but still, that art should mean something to you at the end of the day. It should mean something to its audience. There's nothing worse than taking the time to experience something, whether it be a movie, a book, or a song, and feeling completely indifferent about it afterwards. I'd much rather hate a movie than feel indifferent about it. I would rather think, "This movie sucks because of this or that" rather than, "I could have spent the last two hours doing something else and it wouldn't have made any difference at all." Now that's sad.

Speaking of which, that's sort of how I felt when I read the last Twilight book, Breaking Dawn. I read it because it was out there (and yes, my curiosity does often get the better of me), not because it offered anything particularly innovative or worthwhile. The writing started off terrible. The story became terrible. And the characters all became mere caricatures of themselves - i.e. without nuances.

So please, don't compare Let The Right One In to Twilight, of all things. For me, it gave off a more Interview with a Vampire vibe than anything else.

Perfume: A chillingly satisfying aroma

Awesome movie. Amazing book.

Originally written in October 2007

As everyone has probably already guessed, Halloween is just around the corner (possibly wearing a translucent white mask, wielding a sharp axe in its hand). While the holiday means different things for different people, there are some traditions that have fought their way through time and remain fun, as well as classic, forms of celebration for people of all ages.

One such tradition is of course the universal ritual that is scary movies. Admit it; we all like to be scared from time to time, even if what scares us sometimes keeps us up at night. But if it’s Halloween we’re probably all going to be up anyway. And one of the great things about living in the dorms is that you’re never alone.

Popular Halloween movies in this day and age are often slasher flicks that leave queasy feelings in one’s stomach or an unwanted image lingering in the darkness. But sometimes we come across that equally notable psychological thriller that plays with our minds as well as our senses, teasing out the vulnerable parts with a quick sleight of hand and a sickening smile. We’ve all seen movies like The Exorcist, Psycho, and Saw, blockbuster chillers that do much more than just make us scream.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, a 2006 thriller based on the international bestseller by Patrick Suskind, is not your average Halloween movie. The villain is not particularly bloodthirsty nor is he on a relentless rampant for revenge. Quite the contrary - at times he appears to exhibit the kind of indifference towards humankind that trademarks cinematic villains such as Hannibal and Jigsaw. And that’s exactly what makes him so dangerous.

A killer without a conscience, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille will stop at nothing to get what he wants, even if it means reducing the lives of dozens of beautiful girls to nothing more than heads of shorn hair and naked bodies tossed aside like pretty little rag dolls. Curious? I don’t blame you. The title itself has intriguing implications; since when has a serial killer killed using the power of scent?

Part mystery and part sadist, Perfume is a subtle but lingering film set in 18^th century Paris that has the potential to engage your senses (particularly the sense of smell) through a chilling and somewhat preposterous (but in a fun way) plot about desire and those who have too much of it.