The Shining (1980)

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” – the seemingly harmless saying takes a sinister overture as we witness Jack Torrance’s (Jack Nicholson) gradual descent into madness when he becomes the winter caretaker of the snow blocked Overlook Hotel and moves in with his family into the isolated building built ominously on an Indian burial ground. The “dull boy” becomes a homicidal axe-wielding man on a murderous rampage, out to kill his wife and son. Danny (Danny Lloyd), has ESP and has a terrifying premonition about the hotel but his fears are ignored by his obstinate father who happens to be a struggling author, apparently in need of solitude. The name of the movie draws from the special telepathic bond that Danny shares with the African-American chef Dick Hallorann (Scatman Crothers).shining4
Through a complex web of incipient lunacy, spectral murders and
supernatural visions, in the heart of The Shining lies the breakdown of a fragmented, estranged, nuclear family- scarred by an incompatible couple (the husband being an alcoholic) and an abused child who suffers severe mental trauma and resorts to imaginary friends.shining2
It is about isolation and a failure to realize one’s dreams, about a lack of communication and most of all, a terrifying, spine-chilling thirst for violence that stems out of an absolute apathy for those who you latently blame for your failure- in this case, Jack Torrance’s family. With remarkable visual panache, Stanley Kubrick brings to life the brilliant novel by Stephen King.
The most remarkable moment of the film is when the waves and waves of red wash all over the corridor with the mutilated bodies of the twin girls as a terrified Danny frantically rides away on his tricycle, desperately scribbling “REDRUM” on the mirror on his mother’s room.

Note: I have a fascination for buildings. Especially in association to human psychology. The stiffling, cramped, deeply depressing apartments (like in Polanski’s The Tenant) to gloomy, obviously fiendish hotels (as in Psycho) to the sprawling Overlook Hotel presented in this particular film. Cut off from the rest of civilized society, we find cabin fever setting in and the company of near and dear ones becoming insufferable.overlook overlook2
Also, note the tremendously scarring split-second scene depicting a man in a bear costume in a compromising position with another man 🙂shining5Here’s the trailer to the film:

“These days, relationships with neighbors can be… quite complicated”: The Tenant (1976)


Tonight I decided to pay a visit to Trelkovsky, an introverted young man who has just moved in to a rather unfriendly apartment on a typically busy street in Paris. It could be any other room in any other building, but it just so happens that the occupant prior to Trelkovsky, an Egyptologist named Simone Choule, had attempted to commit suicide by jumping out through the window.

Polish Poster

Like his earlier work- Repulsion, Polanski’s 1976 film, The Tenant, is a study of the intense paranoia and psychic alienation of a foreigner living in a cold and hostile environment. But where the French Catherine Deneuve’s madness involved a latent fear and awe of exotic sexuality, which culminated in the irrational murder of her landlord; the young Polish man of The Tenant, played by Polanski himself, is an almost pathetically comic figure whose descent into madness involves an extremely curious transformation into a woman. Trelkovsky’s symptoms are more understandable, and the final outburst of violence at the end of the movie is terrifying simply because victim is Trelkovsky himself- the acute isolation that he feels, reaches us in his final plea to the world that surrounds him.
Part of the film’s intrigue is its apparent hesitation between the surrealist and the horror approach to madness. Throughout the first half of the film we identify closely with Trelkovsky’s difficulties finding an apartment, adjusting to his rude neighbors and to the suicide of the former tenant, that it does indeed seem possible that some uncanny force has conspired to bring about the reincarnation of the former tenant – who was after all, an Egyptologist – in the person of Trelkovsky. In other words, the film at first appears to inscribe itself within the tradition of the horror genre, but it soon reveals the source of its uncanny occurrences to be located within the unconscious of its protagonist. The more we encounter the demonic forces which want to transform Trelkovsky into the former tenant, the more we become aware that these forces are the outward symptoms of repressed desires. The Tenant presents a reduced, urbanized version of the classic haunted house-the haunted apartment.


It is interesting to note that we know nothing of the actual reasons for Simone’s death, just as we know nothing of Simone herself. The important point, however, is that Trelkovsky fabricates a plot on the part of the other tenants that accounts not only for her death but for his own as well. In order to free himself from the burden of his guilt (his latent wish for Simone to die quickly and vacate tye room for him) Trelkovsky projects it onto the other tenants, the very people who seem to be judging him. In this manner, he re-enacts the crime, this time to become its victim. The figure of Trelkosky is a grotesque mixture of voyeur and exhibitionist, of a sadist and a masochist, of criminal and victim. His visual pleasure will now consist in simultaneously submitting to and watching the spectacle of his own torture.This double role becomes even more obvious in the subsequent events of the episode described above in which Trelkovsky watches his severed head bouncing in the courtyard.


In the final shot of the film we see Trelkovsky in the hospital, a perfect imitation of Simone. But there is a powerful irony in the fact that all he has ever known of Simone has been the outer shell of these bandages. His transformation into Simone ends in the tragedy that he conceived for her. The Tenant‘s exploration of madness ends up questioning the nature of the subject, leaving us in doubt as to the original “cause” of madness, or even if there ever is a fully plausible cause, but at the same time revealing in great detail the psychic processes which govern this madness. An aesthetically brilliant film. Definitely one of my favourites by Polanski.



Here’s the link to the trailer:

A Water Grave



Well, we have all faced despair. The gnawing sensation that creeps all through the body till it reaches a focal point and intensifies gradually into one throbbing sensation of pure, unadulterated terror. A calm sense of foreboding, giving way to a kind of physical distress that cannot be ignored.

I used to get recurring nightmares of drowning. Not the Titanic sort of romanticized drowning. It felt infinitely more horrifying. A cold, wet, tangible sort of dread that would plague my sleep and weigh me down. I feel scared of water. That something life-giving can be so palpably lethal. All consuming, like fire, only more deceiving.

So I made this sketch of Rapahel. A man who is going to drown. Raphael felt fear. Because he was aware of his certain fate. Of a water grave. But hope tends to fuel survival instincts.

Few things are as tragic as a drowning man.

The Feast of Voudon



The sky glowed iridescent. Streaks of brilliant purple and dull red.

As the thunder growled at an ominously low decibel, the lightning came through in bursts, melting the twilight shades into a puddle. Flecks of ash flew in the air with a bizarre finality. Almost with a sense of purpose.The shadows loomed large. Expectant. Anticipating.

The foot-falls quick and heavy, they made their way. Murmurs and soft chanting as the congregation approached the altar. The smell of sweat and iron in the air ablaze with torches. Silent human eyes reflecting desire. This was no time for patience or forgiveness. The flames glowed scarlet and gold. The lithe bodies swayed, as they formed a circle. Round and round they went. Hand in hand. The chants growing louder.

Neverville shall not sleep tonight. After a long and uninterrupted stretch of rest, it is awake. And tonight, it’s time to celebrate. 

(part of my sketch series.)

Lost in the Woods

lost in the woods

The woodland sounds grew louder as the skies got darker. It was late evening, and the fading daylight died among the trees.

Emily was scared. But she had to be brave for her little brother.

Suddenly, the forest seemed illuminated by a million little lights.
Pairs and pairs of glowing eyes, drawing closer to the two little children.

The trees were coming to life and there was nowhere to run.

(Another sketch I had made.)