Mike Flanagan

 

"The Sentimentality of Mike Flanagan’s Netflix Horror Series" by Hanna Rogers, www.collider.com 27feb2022

https://www.google.com/amp/s/collider.com/mike-flanagans-netflix-series-horror-sentimentality/amp/

How Mike Flanagan uses heart to make horror stories work.

Mike Flanagan’s style of horror, though at times terrifying, is also imbued with emotionally involved relationships and poignant themes that create a sense of warmth and sentimentality in each of his Netflix series: The Haunting of Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor and Midnight Mass. Flanagan’s ability to pull off real human love and connection amidst the darkness that shrouds each of the shows’ story arcs is why the ill fates met by many of the characters feel so personally tragic. It's also why his work is so beloved.

It’d be impossible to fit in all the elements that make the series so affecting, but here is a look at some of the most memorable. Tissues please?

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE

In the 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, the characters are strangers who stay at Hill House to study the paranormal events. In Flanagan’s TV series, Hugh and Olivia Crain (Henry Thomas and Carla Gugino) are raising their five young children at Hill House, which automatically makes the premise more emotionally involved. Introducing children to the mix also creates an elevated sense of concern and investment from the audience, as we watch innocents experience unimaginable terror. However, as terrifying as the ghosts in Hill House are, the family looks out for each other because they truly care for one another — and that’s where the heart of Flanagan’s adaptation of The Haunting of Hill House lies.

In the very first sequence of the first episode, the Crain family’s caring dynamic is established. Hugh and young Steve (Paxton Singleton) check on Nellie (Violet McGraw) after hearing her cry from the bedroom. Once Nellie is calmed down and all the kids have been checked on, Hugh returns to bed with Olivia, who instinctively places her hand in his, and the dutiful parents have a chat about the kids before going back to sleep.

This moment — and others like it — help the audience understand the loss that the Crain siblings undergo when their mother dies and their happy childhood crumbles around them. The comparison of this warmth with the sinister events both at Hill House and beyond also compels the audience to feel more invested.

The fallout from the Crain siblings’ childhood trauma is laid bare in various ways, including Luke’s (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) addiction to heroin, Nel’s (Victoria Pedretti) sleep paralysis, and the group’s overall strained relationships with each other. The audience, having seen what the siblings were like as kids, can’t help but feel saddened by the lack of love between the adult Crains. To mend this, Flanagan brings the family together by closing the forces of Hill House in on them.

Nel’s death is the major event that forces the other siblings, and Hugh, to put their differences aside and confront the reality of Hill House’s malignity. Nel’s isolation from her siblings and grief for her husband cause her to easily succumb to the call of Hill House (and Olivia’s ghost). The comforting apparition of her departed family and husband when she steps inside keeps Nel blind to the real danger. Seeing Nel in such bliss, when we know what she’s about to experience, is emotionally disturbing and gut-wrenching in all the ways good horror should be. Nel’s murder is the most tragic scene in the series, and one of the best examples of Flanagan’s uncanny ability to pair unthinkable horror with warmth and sentimentality.

The pathos of the Crain family’s experiences at Hill House, mixed with their need to be there for each other, reaches a crossroads when Luke is dying in the Red Room, and Hugh (Timothy Hutton), Steve (Michiel Huisman), Shirley (Elizbeth Reaser), and Theo (Kate Siegel) must all return to Hill House to save him. Nel’s ghost explains that though the Red Room felt like a “heart” to each of them, it was actually the house’s “stomach,” slowly swallowing them up one by one.

In this shocking reveal, Flanagan once again demonstrates his expert interweaving of the beautiful with the horrific: the one thing that provided comfort to the Crain children was also the epicenter of their intended destruction. The use of Olivia as the house’s “agent” also adds a bittersweet element, especially when Hugh has to convince her ghost that their kids are safer alive outside of Hill House than dead inside it. Thankfully, Flanagan delivers a mostly happy ending, seeing Hugh reunite with Olivia (and Nel) once and for all, Luke getting clean, and Shirley, Steve and Theo finding peace in their lives.

THE HAUNTING OF BLY MANOR

Flanagan’s The Haunting of Bly Manor, based on the 1898 novella The Turning of the Screw by Henry James, still finds much of its tenderness rooted in the ideas of love, family and being there for one another. However, unlike Hill House, most of the characters are not blood-related, and choose to protect and love one another simply for who each of them are: a buoyant au pair (Pedretti), a disgruntled (but lovable) gardener (Amelia Eve), a “punny” cook (Rahul Kohli), a caring housekeeper (T’Nia Miller), and two very mature children.

The charm of Bly’s residents and employees is immediately illustrated by the hospitality that Dani, the au pair, is greeted with upon her arrival. Flora (Amelie Bae Smith), Hannah the housekeeper, and Owen the cook are all very warm and welcoming. And yet, even in these seemingly pleasant sequences, there are scattered oddities that raise questions in both Dani’s and the audience’s minds: Flora and Miles (Benjamin Evan Ainsworth) have moments of out-of-character rudeness, shadows and figures lurk in the corners, and Dani hears strange noises at night. In other words, the homey environment of Bly Manor is muddled by an unexplainable sense of foreboding.

And though these strange events continue to occur throughout the series, the characters are also able to find plenty of time for moments of togetherness and connection. The kitchen is an especially warm place, where Owen concocts delicious meals for the others, and they sit down to enjoy them together. In an especially poignant scene in Episode 4, which occurs shortly after Owen’s mother’s funeral, and displays Flanagan’s affinity for existentially heartfelt writing, Flora provides comfort to Owen about his grief with a wisdom far beyond her years.

The care Flora shows Owen in that scene is only one of many meaningful encounters between the characters of Bly Manor. There are also deep romances amongst the employees, namely between Owen and Hannah, and Dani and Jamie (the gardener). Though Hannah repeatedly waves off Owen’s flirtations, it’s pretty clear that she likes him too. When it’s later discovered that Hannah was killed by Peter (Jackson-Cohen), Owen’s heartbreaking devastation reveals just how much he loved her, and his lovability as a character renders this scene similarly painful for the audience.

However, Dani and Jamie’s romance is given the opportunity to flourish, as their love lasts years beyond the events at Bly Manor. We see them build a home and a life together, with an eagerness to keep going even as the lady of the lake’s hold on Dani grows in strength. When eventually Dani must give in to the lady’s pull, and Jamie finds her body at the bottom of the lake, the bliss of their years together is crushed in one fell swoop. Flanagan shows us beautiful examples of romantic love, but, in keeping with his heart-wrenching tendencies, ends them quickly to keep them sacred.

Flanagan’s use of the older version of Jamie (Gugino) as narrator deepens the cut of Dani and Jamie’s painful end, especially when we see that she is still waiting for Dani to miraculously return to her. What’s more, older Flora’s (Christie Burke) inability to realize that the story Jamie tells is her story too, makes Dani’s sacrifice, Hannah’s death, Rebecca’s bravery and all the good moments at Bly Manor seem meaningless — another successful attempt by Flanagan to twist the emotional knife of the series. Though Bly Manor doesn’t deliver the caliber of scares of Hill House, it maintains the heart.

MIDNIGHT MASS

Midnight Mass, inspired by Mike Flanagan’s personal experiences surrounding religion,sees the isolated community of Crockett Island witness miraculous phenomena, which unearths a mutual devotion between them and the “new” charismatic priest, Father Paul (Hamish Linklater). The skeptics on the island boldly challenge the rest of the devoutly religious residents, even to their own detriment. The show’s refreshing commentary on death, along with the characters’ bravery and efforts at redemption, mark the series as another of Flanagan’s thoughtful yet horrifying masterpieces.

In the first episode, Riley (Zach Gilford) is introduced, like many of Flanagan’s characters, as a tragic figure: he’s just returned home after spending years in jail for killing someone while driving drunk, and struggles with flashbacks of the woman’s face. But Riley’s regular attendance at Father Paul’s AA sessions shows that he has a true desire to be better. The trust that Riley puts in Father Paul at their sessions reveals how disarming the priest’s audience can be, even to those who are skeptical of religion. During the sessions, we also learn a lot about Riley and Father Paul’s opinions on life and death, which brings us closer to their characters.

Riley’s endeavor to be a better person is tested after Father Paul reveals to him the truth about the vampire creature and its intentions for the people of Crockett Island. As a last-ditch effort to help Erin (Siegel) fully understand the danger she and the entire town are in, Riley sacrifices himself. The two’s love and time together throughout the show, especially their conversations surrounding what happens after death, are some of the most moving scenes in the series. Riley’s bravery sanctifies those intimate moments, and reaffirms Flanagan’s ability to unexpectedly crush the audience.

The beginning of Episode 6 sees Erin reeling from witnessing Riley’s death, unsure how to save the town. But it takes the events at Easter vigil to push her and the other benevolent characters — like Dr. Sarah Gunning (Annabeth Gish) and Sheriff Hassan (Kohli) — to fight against Bev (Samantha Sloyan), the creature, and the newly “saved” residents. The bravery that these characters, along with Riley’s parents (Kristin Lehman and Thomas), display in the final episode allows some solace in a sequence that is otherwise bloodcurdling (no pun intended). Once again, Flanagan aptly uses light to shine through the darkness.

Though the characters show bravery in fighting for their lives and those of the children, they also show it when facing certain death. Erin allows the creature to suck a fatal amount of her blood in order to wound and incapacitate him, Sheriff Hassan and his son (Rahul Aburri) pray in their last moments together, and Riley’s parents lead the other residents in song to calm themselves for what’s to come. Midnight Mass has more death scenes than Flanagan’s other Netflix series, but they serve to evoke an acceptance of one’s final moments, and in this case give the right characters the dignified last moments they deserve.

The plot point in the show that is the unwitting, driving force behind the whole story is Father Paul’s true identity, and his real reasons for bringing the creature to the island. When we learn that Father Paul is Monsignor Pruitt, and that he actually returned to get a second chance at a life with Dr. Sarah, his daughter, and her mother Mildred (Alex Essoe), it is hard to blame him for the wickedness he unleashed. Flanagan’s choice to give the supposed villain of the series such a relatable, human reason for his destruction (and leave small clues for the audience to put together), generates an engaging, heartfelt experience, and is largely why Midnight Mass lives up to expectations.

Human pilots for ICBM missiles

 Weird dream this morning. First, last night I was thinking if computer technology did not exists, even in the most primitive vacuum tubes of the 1940's and later, then the only way ICBM missiles could be launched to deliver nuclear warheads to the USSR is with human pilots, right? People trained to recognize the landscapes of the target cities so they can fly on their one-way missions, ending their lives and millions of others instantly at the press of a button once they're close enough.

This morning my dream took place in Phoenix AZ where I lived years ago. It was mostly memory, people from work gathered at a backyard bbq and just as in real life this one coworker was showing off her new PT Cruiser she just got. And in her favorite color, purple. But I noticed the siren bubble the federal government had permanently affixed to the roof. That was in case she got The Call. Yes, this happily married mother of three is trained to pilot an ICBM towards Moscow or a nearby city. If she ever got The Call on her pager with the destination she'll quickly drive with siren blaring toward a nearby missile silo with no time to say goodbye to any of her family on her one-way mission to end the lives of millions of people in Russia. I woke up thinking, Is this the right kind of person for the job? And how can they ever trust these pilots to not go rogue? Like, if one of them was a Trump supporter believing the election was stolen and decided Washington DC was a better target...

Man, this whole scenario is messed up!

Need Unions!

 

THIS is one of many reasons we NEED UNIONS!!! Holding elected officials accountable is the only way society can prosper. btw, obviously, by Unions I don't mean anything like Teamsters. With today's hindsight and technology we can do far, far better. Socialists that say Capitalism is bad; they have a few good points to make. I mean, look at the "flawed democracy" America's become! (or always was, really) We need capitalism but it needs to reined in and yolked under strict regulations that favor workers as much as it favors shareholders. Equally. Shareholding investors make things happen and regular people make things work. The ideal would be if they're one and the same. 

Have you seen TikToks where American workers abroad are shocked at the amazing benefits they recieve from employers in Europe? Strict regulations, unions... It's why Walmart failed in Germany.

Trump's TV show

 Regarding the new damning report about Trump's response to Covid19, blocking the CDC from informing the public for three months I posted this YouTube comment:

"For Trump, his presidency was just a reality show, with the US of A being nothing more than his TV audience. The pandemic was simply a plot complication that refused to go away."

It was the most important TV show in his life and he's going to do all he can to get it back in 2024. 

Mystical 3rd Eye

 Of all the various depictions of our third eye talked about in in various Buddhist, Hindu and other far eastern religions, I never, ever once came across one that was googily. 

Here, a screenshot from the trailer "Everything, Everywhere All At Once"

25°F overnight; Easter ok?

My cat, the mother of our children Dude Snowbie & Ladybug slipped outside last July, never to be seen again. If she's still alive I hope she's okay, sheltered in someone's hope. 

I still worry. I'll always worry because I'll always love her.

Be safe East. And be well.

Article "Midnight Mass"

 Midnight Mass Perfectly Captures The True Spirit of Religion

With Midnight Mass, Mike Flanagan explores a whole range of poignant topics but also underscores a deeper lesson regarding religion and human nature.

BY JOHN ATKINSON PUBLISHED OCT 04, 2021 on www.screenrant.com

Warning: This post contains spoilers for Midnight Mass.

Netflix's Midnight Mass delves into a whole range of poignant themes and even perfectly depicts a universal truth at the heart of religion. Following fellow Netflix horror series The Haunting of Hill House and its follow-up, The Haunting of Bly Manor, Midnight Mass comes from writer/director Mike Flanagan. Set on the fictional Crockett Island, the series explores a different genre of terror as its residents fall prey to a vampire-like monster mistaken for an angel and a renewed religious fervor. Both are unleashed upon the island by Father Paul Hill/Monsignor Pruitt (Hamish Linklater) and contribute to a tense and bloody conclusion.

Along the way, Midnight Mass touches on a host of important topics, including addiction, grief, remorse, redemption, and even the meaning of life.

Principally, Mike Flanagan's passion project tackles the nature of religion and faith. He does so from a whole variety of different angles, from reborn atheist Riley Flynn (Zach Gilford) and zealous Catholic Bev Keane (Samantha Sloyan) to Muslim father and son Sheriff Hassan (Rahul Kohli) and Ali (Rahul Abburi). In the process, Mike Flanagan (who cameos as a priest) offers oft-overlooked wisdom that captures the true essence of spiritual belief and how it manifests.

The wisdom comes as Riley reckons with his alcoholism and attends his first AA meeting with Father Paul. During this, the charismatic priest imparts that alcohol in itself is neither good nor bad. Instead, it's only when in the hands of an individual does the needle shift one way or another. Though the particular point is never directly stated, Midnight Mass nonetheless emphasizes that it remains equally true of religion. After all, regardless of which faith is practiced, it, too, is an abstract construct. Religion is only ever as good (or bad) as the individual that takes it to heart, be it in Midnight Mass book-titled episodes or in real life.

Religion didn't make Sheriff Hassan, Erin Greene (Kate Siegel), Midred Gunning (Alex Essoe), and others into the good people and sacrificial heroes that they ultimately are. Their faith only reinforces their already innate sense of compassion and kindness, rather than fuelling it. They don't need the lessons of The Bible or The Quran to teach them how to be, they simply confirm that the way they lived their lives was one of nobility and dignity. And their faith gives them the strength to maintain that course in the face of hostility and much worse. As Ed Flynn (Henry Thomas) says when most of Midnight Mass's cast of characters are turned into vampires, it doesn't change who you are at your core. Once again, the same goes for religion.

That is most emphasized by the opposite example embodied by the aforementioned Bev Keane. Whether it's poisoning a harmless dog or her generally racist and close-minded attitudes, it's increasingly evident that she's not a good person. While she may be too delusional to see it, it's equally clear that, for her, religion is just a convenient mask for those failings. Worse still, the words of The Bible exist merely to be twisted, so as to allow her a way to justify her increasingly heinous actions. The same can be said for several other residents of Midnight Mass' Crockett Island, whose blind following of Pruitt and then Bev belies their own weaknesses and moral failings, rather than serves as an indictment of religion itself.

Another pivotal scene that captures a frequently missed essence of religion is the PTA meeting. As much as Bev refuses to see the point, Sheriff Hassan respectfully highlights the hypocrisy of religious division. Through that character and the kind of research - most gloss over with Muslim representation - Mike Flanagan points out that, oftentimes, different religions are two sides of the same coin. Though the practices and some of the scriptures may differ, the core meanings aren't necessarily so. For better or worse, Midnight Mass shows that faith and religion are but mirrors, and what manifests is based on the person, not texts.