Friday, April 1, 2011

Gimme Morb

Aloha kiddies. As you may or may not know, Morb was featured in March's Hot Press magazine. For those of you who didn't get to read the article by the lovely Maeve Heslin, who came up with such wonderful words to describe Morb's parade of slop, for your perusal I enclose -



'A mysterious new underground event has emerged in Dublin, whereby a small, select group of people are brought to an undisclosed location and shown an extremely violent horror movie. Sound like fun? Read on - 'We are so jaded, what could possibly affect us? Morb attempts to provide the answer.' So says Peter Dunne, the creator of the newest and most unsettling (that's a compliment)project in the city. But what inspired this committed film fan to take the next step and start showcasing obscure and violent horror late at night?

'Last year I saw a documentary about the birth of the Midnight Movie in the '70s,' Dunne explains. 'Cinema owners began to show really over the top, subversive and shocking films, like El Topo and Pink Flamingos. I was so jealous of those audiences, of that feeling of watching something new, underground, and a bit illicit. Morb was my attempt to provide that, mainly for myself, but also for an audience.'



Since November last year, Dunne has held three Morb screenings, opting first to show Pascal Laugier's 2008 bloodbath Martyrs (not, I repeat, NOT for the faint hearted). Then Inside (Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo, 2007), and finally Braindead, a 1992 New Zealand zombie horror directed by Peter Jackson (yep - he of the hobbits). Though all are extremely violent, Dunne maintains that Morb is not merely about screening a film - it's a far bigger experience than that. I have to agree. For the first Morb outing, a small group - your humble reporter included - were sent a cryptic e-mail, asking us to meet in a city centre pub, one cold November eve. From there we were led (phones switched off) to an empty art studio. In the dark, Dunne led us up a winding staircase to a sterile white room, and instructed us to sit. A brief introduction followed, and then - the film began. An exploration of human endurance, Martyrs features extreme acts of torture; its female protagonist is the victim of a sadistic group intrigued by the concept of martyrdom and the afterlife.



And although that night's Morb was certainly not limited to the graphic images we were shown, I still maintain I am permanently scarred after witnessing that nice French lady being skinned alive. I have to ask - why did Martyrs and Inside appeal to Dunne? Is he trying to relay any particular message? About misogyny perhaps?

'Not necessarily',he responds. 'I knew the films contained violence against women, but they weren't selected because of that. It would be very easy to label these films as misogynistic, but I don't believe they are. Horror films have traditionally sided with the female - the 'final girl' and so on. These films are upfront in their violence, there's nothing underlying.What I find really shocking are romantic comedies like The Ugly Truth or Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which are aimed at a female audience, yet in my opinion, seem to hate women. The fact that their misogyny slips under the radar and is considered acceptable, worries me more.'



He might have a point there: the next Kate Hudson rom-com probably won't see her beaten to a pulp and/or de-skinned, but - chances are - she'll play a 'quirky', career-obsessed loon who just can't find Mr. Right. Graphic violence aside though, there are other factors at play which work to make Morb so unique. dunne utilises the space of the city, incorporating dark streets and alleyways into an experience which aims to unsettle and isolate. How important is Dublin to Morb?


'Very!', he asserts. 'Dublin is perfect, because although it's a relatively small city, and people find it very comfortable and familiar, there's such a variety of little spaces off the beaten track. Dark lanes, empty buildings - just one turn can take you somewhere totally alien. Everyone who has attended a screening says the location has made just as much of an impact at the film'.



Alienation is key then. Freud claimed it's in our human nature to try and familiarise the unfamiliar, the 'uncanny'. Morb's venues are very much at odds with the conventional cinematic experience. No comfy loungers, no popcorn - instead, a hushed, tense, almost uncomfortable atmosphere prevailed in this downright clinical location. Why does Dunne want to take people out of their familiar comfort zones?'Nowadays, we've seen it all', he says. 'In order to get that shock factor,I had to fiddle around with the way the film is experienced. People meet in a pre-arranged location, they have no clue where they'll be led, they don't know about the film they'll be shown. There's that initial rush of excitement, but talking to audiences later, a slow feeling of dread always creeps in. They realise they're totally powerless against what they're about to experience. By the time the film begins, they've built themselves into such a state of nervous tension, almost anything will be frightening.'

Agreed - such was the atmosphere that first night, an episode of Care Bears would probably have had us all cowering behind our chairs. So what does the future hold for Morb?



'I'm going to just keep doing what I'm doing!' Dunne confirms. 'It will always remain underground, there's a limit of 45 people, it won't ever become bigger, or that sense of secrecy and 'specialness' will disappear. I set up Morb because of a deep love of cinema, and sitting in the front and turning in my seat just as an especially 'out-there' moment occurs, to look at the faces of the audience members, is total magic. This is a dream'.


PUTRID DUNNE

Morb 3



'A Technicolour Kiwi Nightmare, I'm too afraid to emigrate now... thanks Morb.'

The best jokes are the sickest jokes. Pretend to disapprove all you want when the 'unfortunate' baby is dressed in a clown suit or something really inventive happens with Pinocchio's expanding nose but there is nothing better than knowing you really shouldn't be laughing at something but just can't help it. The thrill mixed in with the shock. The release of a tension breaking joke at a funeral.





Well, it wasn't Morb's funeral, it was its' third little picnic with bloodstained blankets and something rotten in the tupperware. As per, the select few were blindly led to a secret location (in this case, the lovely La Catedral Studios off Thomas St), frogmarched up the towering staircase and led through the corridors to the dark cavernous attic space lit only by the flickering, projected square of light.


'Having been to the first, highly unsettling but well worth it Morb, I was expecting more of the same. I was wrong! It was a completely different experience this time around. To begin with the attendees had doubled, which leads me to the conclusion that word is spreading. Secondly the venue was more comfortable and had a totally different ambiance. Finally the film it-self, whilst still horror, was a totally different sub-genre of horror, a kind of zom-com as Peter called it, was shows just how broad and varied the horror genre is.
What surprised me the most as I mentioned above was just how many people had turned up. There is obviously a gap in the market for this kind of event and I for one am glad to say I am a part of it. When you come home from morb, you feel as if you've achieved something along with having had a social outing (minus the falling home drunk at all hours). It really is the perfect mid-week escapism, albeit escapism into a world of blood, gore and creepy but hilarious zombie babies!!!! Long live the zombabies.'



One thing Morb is not is a one-trick pony. Yes, this pony may be pus filled, it may be short a leg and only have the strength to carry a half stuffed puke stained teddybear but it doesn't repeat itself. How to top the last witnessed atrocity? Must each film be successively more vicious and disturbing that eventually it must culminate in the actual death of an attendee to satisfy the now warped regulars?

I hope so!

I digress. Yes, people got their violence, their gore, their over the top disturbing sights but they got to do something else as well - laugh. When something is so extreme, when slime, gore, brains and vats and vats of blood flood the screen to such a scale, it actually becomes charming. Well to me anyway.

'Morb is revolting. In my favourite way.
It lends itself to the suspense and mystery of the horrific by being characteristically secretive as an entire experience.
It seduces my own attraction with the terrifying and unknown by tempting me with a lack of information. It plays with my curiosity. It's playing with me. And I like it. Being mindfucked has never been so appealing, especially within a group setting of fellow mindfuckers. I BELONG!'

Ok then, not just me.



'I've always had an unhealthy interest in lawnmower genocide. Seeing Braindead at Morb has given me the confidence to live the dream. I've bought a flymo now and there's no going back.'

All this talk of lawnmowers and zombabies, have you guessed what the film is yet? Maybe, the quote above actually naming the film, does that help?
Yes, Braindead, a wonderfully slimy addition to the Morb family. A constant stream of invention and constant streams of lumpier stuff too.


'LOVED the venue. I felt like puking for the first half and gauging my eyes out for the second. I'm off out the garage to check the lawnmower is working.'



Watching such lighthearted gorefests like Braindead fulfills different objectives, we get our gore and violence kick in a lighthearted manner which helps to desensitise us a teeny bit for the next Morb.
Or does it?

'What a treat to be able to step into a night of secrecy and suspense, escape from the mid-week mundane and revel in the excitement of Morb. I also can't stop talking about it, and am making people jealous.'

All in all, another enjoyable stroll in the fog but this time around The Ripper gave you a little tickle before he slit your throat. People had good laugh and also looked forward to Morb's return to it's dark roots.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared anyone for Morb 4.

Including me.


PUTRID DUNNE