19/05/2018 5:25pm

***This review contains spoilers***

In last year’s final episode of Netflix’s controversial hit show 13 Reasons Why (2017), protagonist Clay Jensen remarked to his guidance counsellor Mr Porter that; ‘It has to get better, the way we treat each other and look out for each other’. A powerful and moving line at the time, the words spoke volumes about our attitude as a society. About the changes we need to make and the people we needed to become. But the show ended and time passed, leaving people to forgot the message. So much so, that when the much-hyped second season was rolled out Friday by the streaming giant, it appears to have disappeared completely. Settling in to marathon the 13-episode arc, what became apparent almost straight away was that everyone connected to Hannah’s story, and the horrendous acts perpetrated by those at Liberty High, also seem to have forgotten these words. Instead, drinking, drugs, guns and court cases, are just he start of more horrendous things to come. So, what exactly happened to the getting better?

Well, that’s kind of the point when it comes to telling this story. Because delivering #JusticeforHannah and for the other girls who ‘begged to be raped’, or showing that when you do the right thing evil is defeated, isn’t that easy. Simple truths and effortless wins are, quite frankly, not the society we live in. In case you hadn’t noticed, ours is the one where women must fight to be heard and not victimised. Where students are taught to barricade themselves in classrooms and are unsafe in their own school. Where people die from drug overdoses and it’s no more than a regular, nightly headline. It’s an endless fight. And it’s incredibly refreshing to find a series like 13 Reasons Why (2017), which is unafraid to shy away from the truth, however unpleasant it may be. Frustrating, complex and upsetting, the show’s second season is more realistic than the last, and maybe that’s why it is so easy to hate it at first. I know I did. Because when does it change? When do things start getting better? When does the underdog finally get to win? Well, for me, I think it is when we realise, as Mrs Baker states in this season's finale, that: ‘There are always more reasons why we should fight, then why we shouldn’t.’

The story picks up months after Hannah’s death and the subsequent fall-out from her tapes, with the first half of the season focusing largely on the students testifying in court. Despite having their words twisted against them, plenty of the crew, including Courtney, Tyler and Ryan, reveal their side to the story and, at times, even boldly stick up for their former classmate. Others like Marcus and Bryce continue to lie to protect themselves and their shiny reputations and futures. Midway in the plot begins to shift though, as Zach takes the stand and reveals details about a tryst he had with Hannah the summer before her death. His truth paints her in a different light, and is the first big instance where Clay and we the audience understand that our ideals of people are not always who they are. It’s a confusing mess, not least because it messes with the timeline. But because the writers try so hard to remind us that Hannah’s tapes were not the full story, they end up changing what made the first season so impressive - unspooling our idea of Hannah in the same way the defendant’s lawyer twists the blame back on her in court. Hannah’s truth is as important as the others, but all we are left with is a tarnished reputation and a smothered voice. Even more, as Hannah’s story unwinds, so does Clay’s opinion of her. And when the boy who loved her can’t even believe her, how are we supposed too? 

What this season does deliver though is monsters and they are lurking in every corner. Wisely, it is left up to us to decide who they are. Because for all the obvious rapists and thugs, there’s plenty more people who let the situation get to the extremes it did. From the mother who knew her son did horrible things to the father who just doesn’t care. Or the coach who turns a blind eye and is more concerned with wins than the safety of students at the school. Every character has their flaws. And so too does the story, with an in-cohesive plot creating little flow, unlike the constant terror of season one. Additionally it is frustrating to watch characters make the same mistakes over and over again with little moral gain. What’s clear is that with no novel to work off, the writers seem lost in a cacophony of themes rather than actions. And like Skye making pasta with Clay’s dad - sometimes the pieces just fail to stick. Season two just isn’t as good as the original, in almost every way possible. Mostly, because it’s hard to justify its existence. And a bit because Hannah is still in every breath of the series. But that’s the point – we don’t want to look deeper, as hard as it is to do. 

And what of the fears from professionals and critics who claimed the show was ‘dangerous’ because of its on-screen depiction of violent and traumatic events, including sexual assault and suicide? Well, those people will likely be just as angry this time around, with issues from drug addiction to gun violence integral parts to the narrative. If anything this season, where no glorification of suicide takes place, could be considered more dangerous than the last. Because for every rape victim trying not to be silences, there is a voice telling them no matter what ‘proper’ or ‘legal’ recourse they seek, ultimately society will fail them. I mean, one teen who raped at least three women is given little more than a slap on the wrist and a probationary stint from the courts. While the school, which overlooked the needs of its students and failed to provide sufficient protocols, fired the one person who was ready to generate meaningful change. And what’s so scary is that this actually happens in society. And if the kids watching this think that is the future waiting for them, they may there's no hope left.

But if this season has proven anything to me, it is that despite its flaws, it is important to put what’s uncomfortable on screen. And if people want to call me irresponsible for thinking Hannah’s suicide scene in season one is not only important, but crucial to effecting change, then so be it. Because our society has become afraid of our flaws and imperfections and it is literally killing people. We put others down to prop ourselves up. We pretend we don’t see problems so we don’t have to deal with them. We think making mistakes makes us weak. No other show has been criticised as heavily for simply telling the truth. And that’s because the truth hurts. People do commit suicide. Others take guns and walk into schools. And some die alone, needles in their arms and choking on their own vomit. And if we don’t talk about it, how the hell are we supposed to change it? It is brave and bold to do the right thing, and sadly, most of the time no-one has your back. But this show tells us that there is always someone that does. And we will keep fighting until everyone will. We won’t be passive. We won’t accept that this is just the way it is. As one 14-year-old Australian girl, who was bullied and harassed at school and tragically took her own life this year once wrote: ‘Speak, even if your voice shakes’.
 
If this story has raised issues for you, or you feel like you require crisis information and resources, please visit 13reasonswhy.info for help. 

Rating: 4 Polaroids out of 5

07/04/17 9:10pm

It seems wrong to begin a review by calling a series about suicide addictive. But it’s hard to find a better word to fit Netflix’s new show 13 Reasons Why (2017). One of the most binge-worthy instalments released by the streaming service in recent years, the series follows the critically acclaimed book of the same name by Jay Asher, and it pulls no punches in dealing with its main topic. Perhaps that’s why it’s hard to look away. Because rarely do we see a show brave enough to look beyond the romanticised notion of death and instead underline the grief of those left behind. Rarely are we delivered a production so honest, open and unpretentious that we’re left wondering how dark it must become for some that they believe life is no longer an option. So, I use the word addictive, not because you’ll become enraptured by how the story is presented, or because you’ll keep watching just to see whether it might end differently. But because you’ll be left wondering whether the phrase ‘it was her choice,’ really means quite what you think it does. 

We begin with a community reeling in the wake of high-school student Hannah Baker’s death. One morning, Clay Jensen receives a mysterious box on his doorstep. Inside are 13 cassette tapes, detailing the reasons why his workmate, classmate and almost lover, chose to take her life. Delivered to each person who played a part in Hannah’s death, like a brutal chain mail letter, the tapes are designed not only to haunt those who hear them, but to ensure their secrets don’t die with her. From former friends and flames, to stalkers and rapists. The more Clay listens, the more he discovers the hurtful, unkind, and sometimes illegal actions his classmates have been involved in. The deeper he gets the more the others try to silence him, as Hannah’s truth starts to become his. But as he edges closer and closer to his own tape, and the final few weeks of her life, Clay comes to understand that every action has a consequence, and some things are just not destined to stay hidden. 

Despite its modern setting, there are echoes of the classic teen ‘coming of age’ stereotypes hidden behind every door and lurking in every corner. From the jocks and cheerleaders right down to the school dances and hot-or-not lists. Like it’s predecessor Stranger Things (2016), there is also a heavy influence on everything old-fashioned. Cassette players, poetry readings, paper journals, Joy Division posters and pedal-powered bikes are just a few of the ways the nostalgia play out. Even the soundtrack is brimming with references to the past, with music from The Chromatics, The Cure and The Call. So heavy is it on eighties, nineties and noughties nods, just a few episodes in you’ll be left wondering whether we’ll see someone stand outside Hannah’s house with a boom box, or catch the main characters meeting up in detention. And while an homage to both those moments does arise, it’s doesn’t happen in quite the way you’d expect. This is, after all, a show about suicide. 

At its core, the only other word that best arises to describe 13 Reasons Why, would be heartbreaking. Heartbreaking for Hannah that she believes she is alone. Heartbreaking for her mother who winds up nothing more than the shell of a woman looking for answers. Heartbreaking for Clay that he will always carry the weight of what happened with him. And heartbreaking for us as an audience. Because although we the know the ending already, we are always left wondering whether it could have been changed. And that’s the point. Heartbreak heals, but it never goes away. The theme is something that is backed up on a more intricate level too, in the care and craftsmanship that has been taken with the cinematography. Hannah and Clay’s world has been painted in a series of melancholic, metallic and sombre hues. And it’s done deliberately. Because it’s like watching their feelings be blown to life. Seeing, somewhat tangibly at times, the sadness of a soul hanging in the air. It’s not without it’s romantic, comedic or happy scenes too. A series about suicide alone could easily get so dark it turns the viewer off. Life is not just a series of depressing moments. But sadly, sometimes the best ones of all are what can tip a person over the edge.

A lot of critics have raved that 13 Reasons Why is not for the feint-hearted. But to me, that is inaccurate. It’s simply not a show for someone who isn’t ready to know how their actions impact others. Because even the best among us have done something we regret. What really concerns me though about such reviews are the calls for people not to watch. Their main reason is that the show details Hannah’s death in intricate, graphic detail. As a journalist, I work by a code of ethics that claims care must be taken when reporting on suicide. It means that while it is okay to mention it as the type of death, it is not okay to mention how it was the person died. The strange thing is though, this always seems to be the point most people are curious about. And in this instance, I think it was an entirely valid choice. Because as a journalist you are always directed by what in the public’s best interest. Hannah’s story is. Compare it to accounts about Anorexic people who have overcome their problems, or tales from those that have lost loved ones in horrific circumstances. Both go into graphic detail, and both have the potential for copycats to arise. But most of the time they help more than they hurt. It’s simply a risk we judge when putting pen to paper. So, do I think it’s ‘right’ that the show portrayed Hannah’s violent and horrific final moments? Probably not. Because I don’t think it was right that it happened at all. And I damn well think it’s important her voice was heard.

To me, the greatest lesson to learn from 13 Reasons Why is that everyone has a different truth, and everyone’s truth demands to be heard.  That doesn’t make one better than the other. It simply makes us less lonely. And despite coming full circle, I like that there are so many stories left unresolved that a second season could be commissioned. Because people slip away in front of us all the time. Sometimes we see it happen, most of the time we don’t. And on rare occasions, we can all miss the calls for help. In Hannah’s case, it happened thirteen times. And in Hannah’s, there was no coming back. And although her story may be fictitious, deep down, the reason the show is so addictive is because we know it isn’t all that far from the truth. So, it is important to know that even if you’re friends, family, teachers, bosses, workmates, schoolmates, coaches or so on miss the signs, there are always people who will listen. Reach out to Lifeline on 13 11 14. Google a local suicide prevention website. Be there for a friend. Just listen. Before it’s too late. 

Rating: 5 Cassette Tapes out of 5

12/06/2016 12:23pm

Despite only directing seven films in the genre, James Wan is undeniably a modern master of horror. His talent comes in taking simplistic stereotypes like brides and clapping games and making them the stuff of nightmares. His latest flick, scary sequel The Conjuring 2 (2016) continues the trend, making sure you’ll never think of nuns or British pensioners in quite the same way. Taut, tense and downright terrifying, The Conjuring 2 doesn’t quite scare up the same suspense as its predecessor, but damn it if it doesn’t come close. 

Based on the true tale of the Enfield Poltergeist, the film follows the Hodgson family, made up of mum Peggy, daughters Margaret and Janet, and boys Johnny and Billy. Life is not easy for the British bunch, with no money for biscuits and young Billy picked on at school for his stutter. Things get a whole lot worse though when Janet finds herself teleporting around the house and hosting the deep voice of a 70 year old man named Bill Wilkins. Nearing the end of their tether, the family take their story public in the hope that someone will hear their plight and help. With their own personal problems, which become more evident as the film progresses, supernaturalists Ed and Lorraine Warren are reluctant to get involved when called in by the Catholic Church. However, reason gives way to heart, and they take up the cause to decipher whether it is one of the worst cases they’ve ever faced or one of the biggest wind-ups in paranormal history. 

It’s a smartly scripted piece, bringing us full circle from the first film and again playing on the terrors that lurk out of sight rather than those we see. What’s even smarter this time round though is the strong focus on the children and in particular Janet, who are the only ones who witness the disturbances at the start before adults are gradually introduced to the terrors, thereby making us constantly question the validity of the ‘ghost’ story and the truth or trickery behind it. Sequels too often fall into the trap of trying to emulate their former films scene-by-scene that they forget to bring anything new to the plate. But what makes The Conjuring 2 succeed, is its inclusion of the opposing voice – the critics, non-believers and sceptics. Balanced films are so few and far between nowadays that it is a pure and simple joy when one finally surfaces. So much so that it is easy to forgive its weaker parts.

The film certainly has them though, notably in the rather long time it takes to really get rolling, with the Hodgson’s and the Warren’s not even meeting until after the first half of the film. When they do, it is still stand-offish, as any true bond between the families seems fractured until the inevitable denouement. What is also surprising is the fact Wan leaned on the same scare a number of times. Creepy turns around corners are indeed chilling for viewers to watch, but eventually what was once thrilling turns somewhat tedious. The other downside is the extreme variance in the ghosts and ghouls. Where the nun is perhaps one of the creepiest characters ever put to screen, the crooked man comes across as a laughable and cartoonic CGI caricature. 

Wan proves his mettle though with some simply stunning shots, including a creative scene involving the unsettling nun, an establishing shot where we are guided around all the individual rooms of the Hodgson home to witness the inhabitants within, and another involving an eerie and evocative interview made with backs turned. He tests our sanity time and time again, building up anticipation, only to let it come crashing down around you. One of his best sequences has to be the moment Ed sings an impromptu Elvis concert, as you wait thoroughly prepared for the family night to turn south and instead are simply given the utter delight of Patrick Wilson’s voice. A good horror director knows when to scare you, a great one knows when not to, and the best understands the area in between. Horror aficionados and enthusiasts will certainly be pleased, with Wan creating a clear homage to the best of the best. Where Hitchcock mastered suspense at the turn of the 20th century and Craven turned schlock and slasher into something memorable in the seventies, Wan will be remembered for his stylish and sophisticated presence in the genre for many years to come. 

Young actress Madison Wolfe proves her status as a rising star, with a controlled and compelling performance, donning an incredible British accent that will make you do a double take to believe she really is a bonafide American. Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson are also electric, cranking up the notch without succumbing to cliché, their chemistry eliciting genuine emotion from their audience by the film’s resolution. The only downside to this is the depth of their storyline sometimes stunts the films progression, as you become too rooted in their world and not in the connection they have with the family. They are, after all, at their best when they are answering their calling from God, and between the stories dual arc and the focus on questioning the validity of the girls account, we don’t see them unite enough. 

One of the biggest problems fans might raise with the film though is its quick dismissal of iconic and well-documented Amityville case. The movie opens with the Warrens investigating the event, before strongly suggesting it was none other than a hoax. However, that is the beauty of The Conjuring 2, in taking something so cinematically infamous and turning it on its head, juxtaposing it with the film’s final climactic reveal and reminding audiences’ horror is so much more than blood, guts and gore. It is a sequel that does its predecessor proud, respecting the tone and style already established, yet remaining unique enough it to stand on its own feet. How lucky we are to have two such films now in this world…

​Rating: 4 Crucifixes out of 5