The act of translating literary works into effective and faithful films is always difficult. The work of beloved macabre groundbreaker H.P. Lovecraft is certainly no exception. Certainly, Stuart Gordon's Re-Animator is well-loved, and tries hard to capture, if nothing else, the pure insanity so prevalent in Lovecraft's oeuvre, but when it comes down to it, there just haven't been any truly faithful film adaptations of Lovecraft's work. Enter the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society and director Andrew Leman, whose ambitious and highly interesting mini-masterpiece The Call of C'thulhu finally gives true Lovecraft addicts something to fawn over. Heck, I suspect that Lovecraft himself would ostensibly have approved of this flick.
Closely following the text of Lovecraft's (arguably) most famous story "The Call of C'thulhu", this film version recounts the tale of a young researcher who stumbles upon evidence of an ancient civilization, a beast of untold nature and gargantuan proportions, and the cult of ne'er-do-wells that worship that beast. Slowly and deliberately, the story unfolds, revealing tidbits of information and hinting at things that are, appropriately enough to Lovecraft's imagination, best left buried. What makes The Call of C'thulhu so special is the style that Leman employed to tell the tale. The film is "silent" and filmed in luscious black and white. All dialog comes in the form of actors mouthing the words followed by title cards that summarize what has just been said. All of this is set to a wonderfully rich (if a bit synth-heavy) score that combines many symphonic styles. With all of these uncommon storytelling elements in place, the film is a bit difficult to settle into, but when you do, you're instantly hooked.
Topping all of this off are some wonderful performances, period costuming, a completely bitchin' (but wisely little-used) stop-motion C'thulhu, and some absolutely startling set design that at once perfectly captures the fractured landscape of our protagonist's mind and evokes the angular nightmare-scapes of German expressionist filmmaking at its best (i.e. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, et al).
The Call of C'thulhu is a damned fine film, and its artful presentation works incredibly well. Who knew that the most faithful Lovecraft adaptation would end up being a silent film? On second thought, it seems entirely appropriate. Seek this out at all costs!
The act of translating literary works into effective and faithful films is always difficult. The work of beloved macabre groundbreaker H.P. Lovecraft is certainly no exception. Certainly, Stuart Gordon's Re-Animator is well-loved, and tries hard to capture, if nothing else, the pure insanity so prevalent in Lovecraft's oeuvre, but when it comes down to it, there just haven't been any truly faithful film adaptations of Lovecraft's work. Enter the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society and director Andrew Leman, whose ambitious and highly interesting mini-masterpiece The Call of C'thulhu finally gives true Lovecraft addicts something to fawn over. Heck, I suspect that Lovecraft himself would ostensibly have approved of this flick.
