Andrei Iskanov. An enthusiast from Khabarovsk, a homemade director, and a fan of the genre. At the dawn of his cinematic youth, Andrey not only watched movies on video, but also shot his own. The first was ' Nails', a total surrealist hell about the complex relationship of a single killer with his own nervous system. After a while, Andrey shoots again, and again it is a full meter. About the same actors. As usual, original authors flash the faces of friends and acquaintances, but not the essence.
A new vampire horror movie. Only unusual, these blood drinkers feed on fear, and not only. Iskanov developed his own breed of undead using his vision of the artist. The most interesting thing is how Iskanov filmed his vampire brainchild. I'll call it disgusting. Handheld vhs camera, coupled with digital soapbox, and special effects from the early 90s. And this must be taken into account when starting to eat the manifestations from the somatic flesh of the plot. You need to immediately prepare yourself for the fact that the camera work is disgusting, in the spirit of the music videos of the group ' Cannibal corpse', Iskanov by the way from informals, mad Cecil B, Khabarovsk spill. But, letting go of moments of professional insolvency, I note that the atmosphere of a nightmare at Andrew came out not a pancake. Some scenes came out extremely disgusting, in terms of horror, not quality. Discourse TVmaster about the nature of the nightmare in which we live. Dreams of weeping fields, with creatures in trees - a vivid example of shooting on pure enthusiasm, from branches and foot food. Turn off the logic option, if it is, it died of lack of oxygen, and is clear only to Andrew. Some indistinct hangouts of Gothic youth, vulgar intercourse with the dead, a familiar actor from the past film, and deliberately degraded image quality, probably designed to emphasize the general gloom.
Vampires interpreted by Iskanov have two hypostases, habitual, and metaphysical, yes, with parallel universes, in which the evil of the Iskanov lives, also played. For more than two hours of timekeeping in front of the viewer, turn around and the drama of the relationship of the main character. Gothic nightclub hangouts and strange acts of necrophilia. And surreal vampire feasts. Silence will be replaced by dialogue about evil. Good in this film, the role did not get, on the fact that in human nature it simply does not exist. Oh, those metaphors of sincere creators. I once had a dream in which I wandered through dark flights of stairs. The film is similar to one of these dreams: dark, torn, crumpled structure. It turned out a fierce vinaigrette of fantasies and intentions, and a vivid example of how you can make a movie without giving a damn about everyone. For some reason, the film is fascinating. The principle, ' so bad that interesting' works. If Andrey had twenty times more funds, the film could be safely put in a row with Aranofsky, but Andrei Iskanov maestro of the Khabarovsk Territory, therefore, from the essence of realism depressing can not escape, and it is worth watching only if you are a sophisticated junk movie lover, and if not, run away, because the variety of cinematic art-house.
It's very, very, very difficult to observe mentally ill delusions for two hours. It is very unbearable to ponder whether there is a plot at all, what is happening in general and in particular, what is the logic of the sequence of events - and so on. Andrey Iskanov does not care about quite acceptable questions. He lives his wild illusions, feeds on their every burp, breathes in their nightmarish stench, absolutely not boasting to be normal. No, there is no place for normality here, there is one continuous nightmare, bursting into the viewer’s field of view without explanation and raping him with an LSD video.
To withstand the load of dirt, cruelty, abomination, hallucinations and absolutely wild computer graphics can not everyone. Iskanov’s shooting style is a separate song. It is impossible to watch concentratedly: sometimes what happens on the screen makes you, if you do not shudder, then certainly leave your thoughts anywhere - just to get away from here. You think it's atmospheric? Yes, of course! Only the atmosphere here is so horrifying that watching the “masterpiece” is comparable to a serious illness: what is there, what is here – an ongoing torment, harmful to perception, and besides not so reliable as it seems to the director himself. You can use your cheap effects as much as you want - they will never deliver pleasure.
I'm elementary scared. It is terrible to penetrate into the head and creativity of self-taught people like Iskanov. What can you find? The above-mentioned nonsense and nothing more. Delusions, multiplied to incredible proportions, presented as unprecedented creativity, but in fact is a dump of cinematic waste. What the previous "Nails" that now "Visions of horror" - all the same. Garbage of the deepest subconscious and all layers of imagination.
So, in one phrase, without knowing it, fully characterized this product (the language will not turn it into a movie to call) one of his characters – the telephone master. The plot revolves around some mentally deprived guy (known as “the guy with glasses”), who constantly sees yellow dreams about all sorts of nonsense. Subsequently, it turns out that somehow this is related to vampires (yes, all the same boring topic about vampires), and here throughout the entire timekeeping, the hero will sit in his room and try to understand what he now does with such information, because now strange uncles begin to hunt for him.
Art House is an art house. This word is quite fashionable, and now everyone has the opportunity to shoot an art house movie - for this it is not necessary to even have the rudiments of at least some talent (even director's), because even the most sick "creator" will find fans. Well, about like comrade Andrei Iskanov. His perverted things, which someone proudly calls “films” are crafts that are loved by many for allegedly “fear”, “the depth of some thought there”, “exciting plots”, etc.
Actually, indeed – art-house cinema is not for everyone – I know this perfectly well, but let’s not forget that the declared genre of “horrors”, and, therefore, I think, this creation can fall into the hands of horror amateurs – like me, for example. I expected to feel fear when watching, but I ended up feeling only disgust. Everything that happens on the screen resembles some inept staging by several friends (and minors) a la “let’s shoot a movie on a cell phone!”. Kinzo shows us some people who: broadcast in very quiet voices, as if out of f***; engage in necrophilia and think that it is cool; portray encephalopaths; paint faces; beat some women; do some nonsense, which, in general, no one needs. At the same time, the creators tried to: constantly show the same shots a number of times, stretching the already tight timekeeping; the camera shook incredibly strongly, for which they turned it over at a variety of angles, once again confirming that the operator (and with it the other creators) were not only sick on the head, but also on the rest of the body; instead of real rain, it was drawn on the computer (there, in fact, almost everything was drawn - ineptally and funny); the "actors" of the bay confirmed that the operator (and with him) then they thought that they created a masterpiece).
The events of this product are not frightening and not shocking, only once again tell the viewer that using drugs is obviously not so fun. Since there are not so many dialogues in kinz – and even then, they do not contain any sensible information – you can safely turn on a quick speed, only to find out how the brilliant director was able to end this ugliness. I was bored, except for one episode (albeit very, very long) about necrophilia. Since this only causes me a gag reflex, I was quite upset and outraged, which was aggravated even more when the very corpse over which the abuse was committed flashed in the frame. Despite the fact that the rest of the film is made on "two with a minus", the dead lady herself really looked like a dead woman. After that, the disgust reached its critical point, I was forced to stop watching, which I was able to continue only after a while.
In general, it is rather boring. In the frame, there are always some people walking, it is not clear why the plot is necessary (a fat man is a priest; an uncle in a black hat; a guy with glasses; a girl with a painted face ... etc.). Cut the constantly repeated frames - so the kinzo fit in twenty minutes. In addition, the dreams that the main character dreamed do not seem such nightmares, to be honest - they are just yellow, and blurred some, and their connection with vampires is also not entirely clear. And in general, what was more important in this product - dreams or vampirism - remains a silly mystery. The soundtrack (and my teeth melt when I start to pronounce this word regarding this craft) is a set of some sounds that irritate the ear much more than the picture, but somehow quite suitable for this art-house creation - if it's bad, then bad everything.
Well, in general - not terrible, but long. Seriously, two hours! Is it worth it? I once came across psychedelic things like this one on YouTube, which suggests that everyone can create stupidity, so Mr. Iskanov is far from as talented as he wants to appear.
I was disappointed. Art house movies can definitely be interesting, but “Visions...” is not the case at all.
1 in 10
This is not a movie, this is just a rare abomination.
The brainchild of Andrei Iskanov, ambitious, but at the same time imbecile, after his birth in 2006, brazenly wanders around the Internet in the lists of “most shocking films”.
And it is not surprising, because the plot of this picture tells the story of a hero suffering from vivid nightmares, mercilessly throwing him into the unknown yellow world, where a maniac in a clay mask tries to do justice or, for example, in the wilds of his own entrance with a terrifying look of an old woman who allows to use her phone.
Not only demonic dreams make our hero suffer, but also the recently discovered fact that vampires do exist.
All this is filmed by the ever-moving (not one) camera, circling and dangling over the main character, like an annoying fly. In addition, during the installation, a lot of irritating color correction was used: blue, showing us the Kremlin, purple pink, reflecting the intoxicating lifestyle of the club, this impossible yellow, often used in dreams. Plastic special effects make it feel like you’re not watching a movie, you’re in some old video game with terrible graphics. But oddly enough, everything that was listed above really creates an atmosphere of unbearable depression and a state of nightmares from which it is impossible to get out.
The plot of "Visions of Horrors" is very good. The idea carries a semantic load, and, despite the narcotic result of the footage, the picture turned out to be interesting, but painfully long. Two hours and twenty-eight minutes — that’s how long this movie goes. Quickly tired of the monotony of the picture on the screen, and after forty minutes to watch the hunt only because interesting end.
The end of the story is really not bad.
There are impressive scenes in this film. For example, a dream about a murder on the field caused me great admiration, and everything that was there was just perfectly woven and served to the viewer. But the fact that in newspaper clippings and opening credits used English, I do not understand.
Summing up, I want to say that the film itself deserves to exist, but to call it something incredible and phenomenal. There was no shock.
The promising successor to the percussion Iskan Nails turned out to be a work much more amorphous, uneven and completely devoid of the subtle metaphorical and sharpness inherent in Nails, which seems to have failed him as a result. On the field of semi-conscious experimental shiza, the film plays quite confidently, the original author's style is pleasantly recognizable, the maximum will still be squeezed out of the microbudget, thanks to which there are quite enough interesting things on the screen (although the sound does not attract such attention), but in the absence of at least some orderliness or structure of the proposed material, Visions eventually predictably break into an editing chaos-kaleidoscope, as creative as well as almost unseeable.
Quite atmospheric and calm entanglement all at the same minimum of text and specific “otherworldly” images, soon completely drowned free “earthly” art abstraction, sometimes deliberately rough, sharp and provocative, but not the most interesting for observation. A long and for the most part stupid club-drug cut with a frankly disembodied stroboscopic effect already by the middle begins to make the film extremely tedious and drawn-out spectacle, which in fact designs for the viewer the same suffering specified in the title of the film. It becomes completely impossible to trace the plot at a certain stage, as a result of which it remains to focus on a set of individual creasan scenes that are somehow twisted together, bringing them under a common denominator is no easier than dissecting Mulholland Drive without lynch clues.
In this regard, it is most appropriate to consider Visions not as a movie as such, but as a kind of original and self-sufficient museum exhibit from the dungeons of the acid underground, for which the conveniently chosen niche of dreams / myths / hallucinations automatically dictates and justifies the need for the notorious triumph of form over content.