A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987)

As far as the horror genre goes, you would be hard pressed to find a director who has had a larger impact on the medium than that of Wes Craven. It’s hard for any director to remain relevant over a 40-year career, especially one that has long been associated with horror, a type of film looked down on by a vast majority of the movie-going public and critics alike, who cite it as a grotesque carnival of horrors, exploitation of the worst possible kind that highlights the worst aspects humanity has to offer. Of course, this is a short-sighted and often ignorant claim, as the best in the horror cannon serve up great amounts of satire while rooting into our subconscious, tapping into our most primal of fears. Since he unleashed The Last House on the Left way back in 1972, Craven has proven himself not only to be a unique voice in film but also a talent capable of reinventing himself and the entire landscape of the macabre. His directorial debut ushered in an angry, assaultive, and realistic style of horror that would become commonplace in the ’70s, a decade reeling from Vietnam and its fallout, the implications of the Watergate scandal, a flagging economy, and the hangover of the demonstration culture of the ’60s. The seminal film would help pave the way for Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) and John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978), each of which would have a mammoth impact on future directors of the medium as well.

By the time the ’80s rolled around, Craven was looking for a new way to scare audiences, to keep them up late at night, long after the projector stopped flickering; to invade their dreams, turning them into nightmares. Thus, Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) was born, a low-budget film from an independent named New Line looking to break into the big time. Gone was the brutal, dingy look of his freshman offering, replacing it with a surreal tone, the filmmaker even going so far as to draft a mission statement emphasizing the horror needed to not just be “about fighting the monster, but about the framework of reality itself.” Thus, he built the blurring of reality and dreams into the fabric of his story, much like Roman Polanski’s Repulsion did in 1965, or, more recently, Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan in 2010. The device that made the original Nightmare so chilling is used less effectively in the third offering of the franchise, Dream Warriors, but due mainly to Craven’s return (missing entirely from the second) to screenwriting duties, the film lives up to its billing as the best and most popular of the Elm Street sequels.

Directed by Chuck Russell (Eraser), the sequel picks up 6 years after the events of the first film. As it opens, we are introduced to Kristen Parker (Patricia Arquette, in her film debut), a caffeine-infused teen who seems to be tired of run-ins with Kruger, as he limits her capability for a good night’s sleep. Soon she finds herself committed to Westin Hills, a psychiatric hospital, after her mother finds her in the midst of an apparent suicide attempt, of which Freddy is responsible. There, she makes nice with the other teen patients, all victims of the same malady, recurring dreams of torment and despair, spiked with a heavy dose of Kruger attacks, all of which are misinterpreted as mental illness. The group is being treated by a skeptical Dr. Neil Gordon (Craig Wasson, professional actor and Bill Maher body double) and a new staff research scientist, Nancy Thompson (Heather Langenkamp*) who also happens to be the only teen survivor of the first installment in the series and who immediately recognizes the situation for what it is. Throughout the course of Kristen’s therapy, Nancy finds out she has the uncommon power of pulling others into her dreams, a trait they can use to combine their talents in an effort to take down Freddy once and for all.

While it isn’t a perfect sequel, Dream Warriors contains several clever scenes and the effects are cool, even though some are too obvious to be taken seriously. One of the best dreams has Kristen being tormented by a giant penis-like snake complete with Freddy head that tries its hardest to swallow her whole. It’s a scarier sequence than most as it uses the weirdness of one’s own subconscious more vividly than the other sequences of the movie (which often rely on exploiting the one key characteristic that the secondary characters are saddled with against them), as the encounter makes more sense on a deeper, psychological level, mining a teenage girl’s fears related to male anatomy and the act of sex. This isn’t to say that all the other killings aren’t always unimaginative. One of the patients, an artist and sculptor named Phil, gets eliminated when Freddy, using his tendons like a puppeteer uses marionette strings, guides him to the top of the hospital, then cuts him loose, causing Phil to fall several stories to his death. The sequence is creepy fun and fairly intense, keeping Freddy in the realm of an out-and-out scary villain.

The film falters a bit when it begins to lay the groundwork for where the series and Robert Englund’s performance would go over the remainder of the decade. From here on out the cheeky mix of elaborate set pieces, visual gags, and one liners would help to distance the audience from the onscreen carnage, and by extension, Freddy gets less and less interesting. Both of these issues would be rectified when Craven took back the reinsand director’s chair for New Nightmare, giving Freddy his second wind,,, by infusing the film with a statement on how he saw the state of horror in the early ’90s, creating a wonderfully entertaining meta-slasher. Another main reason for the decline of the character can be traced to Dream Warriors: when they decide to explain Freddy’s origin (he’s the son of 100 maniacs, a biological impossibility unless I missed something in middle school). Horror movie 101 clearly states that the monster or killer is a scarier entity when the audience knows less. Why? Because the more they know, the more they can relate and having his mother raped a ridiculous amount of times certainly brings about pity from the viewer. I mean, come on, that would obviously suck, all but eliminating the chance for a normal upbringing.

A shift in the focus of the character to make the crowd laugh instead of cower in fear also starts to occur in Russell’s film. The sometimes dopey wordplay and relentless catch-phrases that would come to dog the series start here, paving the way for the commercialization of horror by making the killer easy to like. By the time the rock album Freddy’s Greatest Hits was released in 1987, featuring the song “Do the Freddy,” complete with guest vocals from Englund, the character had officially jumped the shark in terms of making one’s blood run cold. In his defense, Craven never wished to have his movie turned into a long-running horror series and his ending in the third effort stresses this, but the film’s success made that impossible. His original vision of “the ultimate bad father”,, his named derived from Last House on the Left’s rapist Krug, had become commercialized, converting him into the Jay Leno of the boogey man, serial killer circuit, and, in my opinion, making Dream Warriors the last hoorah for the horror icon until Craven’s return to the director’s chair.

-David

*Langenkamp’s performance here is egregiously bad, making her consternation in her Entertainment Weekly profile piece from several years ago about how her career went nowhere outside of the Nightmare series laughable. Her acting is impossibly wooden, and at times, one can seemingly see her actively trying to remember lines. The rest of the cast is solid for the most part and features several actors and actresses that would become big names in the coming decade. In fact, this might be the best overall cast in the history of the series. Plus John Saxton comes back, which is bad-ass.

A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985)

With the success of 1984’s A Nightmare on Elm Street (a success that rescued New Line Cinema from the edge of bankruptcy, and was the company’s first commercial success), it was inevitable that a sequel was going to be produced, even though Wes Craven voiced his opposition to the idea. New Line handed direction to Jack Sholder, and writing duties to David Chaskin, due to Wes Craven’s unwillingness to work on the film. The resulting sequel, which narrowly avoided having someone else cast as the infamous Freddy Krueger*, grossed nearly twice as much as its predecessor, further cementing the Nightmare franchise as a bankable commodity.

But sequels, especially those taken from the hands of their original creators, have a tendency to be unable to live up to expectations; even more so if the preceding film was especially well-received. Does A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2 break this trend?

This time around, Freddy Krueger is seeking to return to the realm of the living, by taking over the body of Jesse Walsh (Mark Patton), who has just moved into a familiar house in Springwood. Jesse has a hard time adjusting, between the heckling he receives from the school bully Grady (Robert Rusler), awkwardly attempting to foster a budding romance with his friend Lisa (Kim Meyers), and having his dreams tormented by Freddy, he begins to slowly lose his mind. After he has a “dream” in which he is taken from an S&M bar by his gym teacher to the school’s gymnasium and said teacher is killed by Freddy, he discovers that the murder actually has happened, and it is apparent that Freddy is gaining control of his body. With the help of Lisa and an old diary he finds in his house, he attempts to fight back against the ever-looming threat of losing himself.

Though A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2 has several memorable scenes mostly owing to special effects that were impressive at the time (some examples include an exploding parakeet, Jesse’s tongue extending and gaining a life of it’s own, Freddy tearing his way out of Jesse’s body in one sequence, an eye in the back of Jesse’s throat, a pool party gone horribly wrong when Freddy arrives and begins causing havoc, and human-faced dogs guarding a gateway), it fails to deliver the same kind of impact that the original had. By making Freddy a run-of-the-mill slasher through taking over Jesse, the unique “dream-killing” aspect is taken away. All that is left is Freddy’s dark sense of humor, which, at this point in the franchise, is still underplayed, especially since Freddy is given a meager 13 minutes of screen time. And, although I didn’t notice it the first time I watched the film, writer David Chaskin says he deliberately wrote in homoerotic undertones throughout the film, which, as far as I can tell, serve no apparent purpose aside from being laughably bizarre and somewhat out of place with the tone of the rest of the film. Perhaps one of the worst parts of the film is that the ending is somewhat trite and unremarkable, and simply feels underwhelming given what precedes it.

As for the acting, Mark Patton handles the role of Jesse in a sort of shrill, hammy-in-a-bad-way manner that is more irritating than something to empathize with, and unfortunately the rest of the cast either doesn’t impress or simply gives a passable performance, save a humorous display by Clu Gulager as Jesse’s father and of course Robert Englund continuing in the role that he’s still the most famous for.

Despite its commercial success, A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2 is really the point at which the franchise stumbles and is trying to find its legs. It hits its stride in the following film A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: The Dream Warriors (1987) and its somewhat formulaic sequels that establish Freddy’s personality and his unique methods of teenager disposal as the series’ real draw. Simply put, this is a rather weak offering for a Nightmare on Elm Street film that suffers for its attempt to go in new directions, which, though admirable in spirit, ultimately misses the point.

-Adam

*Initially, New Line refused to give Robert Englund the pay raise he requested to return as Freddy Krueger, but after the extra cast to play the role failed to meet expectations, producer Robert Shaye agreed to Englund’s requests.

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)

For many years slasher films have become a huge staple in the horror film industry.  Some people site their invention as early as 1932 with the film Thirteen Women, while others look towards the 1960 classic Peeping Tom, but it wasn’t until the late 70’s and early 80’s that the genre really started to evolve, and take off.  While many classics lurk in the bowers of what some call a misogynistic or exploitative category, there are three names that often rise above any other; Vorhees, Meyers, and Krueger.

In 1984 Wes Craven terrorized audiences the world over with the beginning of what was to be a long, successful series he titled A Nightmare on Elm Street.  The graphic special effects and nonadherence to the formulaic plot standards of the sub-genre were unlike anything audiences had ever seen.  Initially performing on a limited theatrical release, the film skyrocketed to success and gave way to seven sequels, a 2003 crossover that sees Krueger alongside Camp Crystal Lake madman Jason Vorhees, a 2010 reboot with director Samuel Bayer at the helm, as well as a whole galaxy of comic books, video games, novelizations, and television appearances.  Hardly a man, woman or child would draw a blank upon the mention of Fred Krueger.

Heather Langenkamp, a Hollywood unknown at the time, starred as Nancy Thompson, a high school teenager in the throes of sleep deprivation.  Nancy and her friends (which included Amanda Wyss, Nick Corri, and a young Johnny Depp), begin to realize a frightening similarity in their dreams.  Each one is repeatedly haunted at night by a horribly burned man, with knives on his fingers, dressed in the dingiest Christmas sweater anyone has ever seen.  After several stylized deaths befall sleeping teenagers, startling revelations begin to surface about a child murderer who brought the hammer of vengeance down from the parents of Elm Street.  These concerned citizens decided to give the finger to our judicial system, and instead burned the man alive as punishment for his transgressions.  Nancy seems to be the only one hell-bent on stopping these mysterious murders, she takes it upon herself to put an end to Krueger by going “Home Alone” on his ass.

Robert Englund takes on the Freddy Krueger persona, a role which launched him into fame, and horror film history.  As opposed to most of the tight lipped psychos that were taking over the genre en masse, in films like Terror Train, Prom Night, Friday the 13^th, and Halloween, Englund brought to the screen a murderer who had so many witty/vulgar quips under his hat, that audiences didn’t know whether to laugh or recoil in fear.  While later installments began to focus more on Krueger as a kind of psycho-comedian, the initial introduction or the character terrified audiences to a degree that the majority of Krueger’s peers at the time could not.

Craven found inspiration for his newest foray into the genre in a story he pulled from a newspaper article in the LA Times.  The article told the story of Cambodian refugees who had fled to the United States.  They began to experience horrifying nightmares, causing a refusal to sleep, and soon after several of the men died in their sleep.  Scientists began to refer to the strange occurrences as Asian Death Syndrome, for which they could provide no explanation as to the cause of death.  Coupling these events with elements of his own childhood, Craven produced a script that he shopped around to several different studios, before arriving at the then independent New Line Studios, who decided to release the film even though they were on the verge of bankruptcy at the time.  The box office success of A Nightmare on Elm Street single handedly saved New Line Cinema, and did so with flying colors.  The film is excellent and is executed almost flawlessly, even down to its tagline, “If Nancy doesn’t wake up screaming, she won’t wake up at all…”  Starting out on a very limited release of only 165 theaters nationwide, the film soon rocketed into popularity mostly through limited advertising and word-of-mouth.

A Nightmare on Elm Street relies on many great elements to present a truly shocking story.  Craven brilliantly attacked what at the time seemed to be the most innocent of places…the suburbs.  Grotesque murders, supplemented by the dark secret of the parents of Elm Street, give the audience an uneasy sense that despite the innocent exterior of the modern American suburb, something sinister can always lie beneath.  Viewers are left with a feeling that the fictional town of Springwood, Ohio, could just as well be their own corner of the world, and their own parents could be hiding a secret just as dark.  The film also incorporates the age old horror theme of the loss of innocence.  On this element Nightmare does very little to take the industry further, but due to the stylized way this theme is presented, it is little to no bother that most of us have seen this subtext played out for years.

The special effects are especially well done, considering the minimal budget the crew was working on.  Working with a modest filming budget of only 1.8 million dollars, the filmmakers gave audiences a show that seemed to be lacking from many of the slasher films of that time.  Any fan of the genre loves seeing Jason or Michael with a machete or butcher’s knife, respectively, but no one at the time expected to see a geyser of blood skyrocket through a hole in the bed, with no killer in sight.  Other highlights include a half-naked teenager being drug up the wall and onto the ceiling above her helpless boyfriend and being torn to shreds, the film’s heroine unwittingly having the infamous Freddy glove rising up between her legs while she’s sleeping in the bath tub, or Langenkamp attempting to walk up a set of stairs that begin to suck her in.

Not only does Craven strive to bring audiences some of the best gore, and in your face horror of the time, he also builds some good suspense.  There is, of course, plenty of the age old horror cliché of teenagers walking around in empty houses, which most of us have grown so accustomed to that we feel the need to get up and go to the fridge during these moments, but Nightmare adds a little something extra.  Most memorable being the small children jump roping and singing the song that would become a staple for the franchise, “One, two, Freddy’s coming for you.  Three, four, better lock your door.  Five, six, grab your crucifix.  Seven, eight, gonna stay up late.  Nine, ten, never sleep again.”  Nothing quite captures a sense of dread quite like children, and of course it’s only an added bonus if they are singing.  Admittedly this is a device that is grossly overused by today’s standards, but at the time Nightmare was made, not every horror film maker was as subject to as much conformity as we see today.

While the good name of A Nightmare on Elm Street may have been slightly tarnished over the years by a slew of sequels, cartoons, and daytime television appearances by Fred Krueger himself, the original will always hold a special place in the hearts of all horror fans, and regardless of what some overly critical people might say, it’s a good movie.  One of Craven’s true masterpieces, and the madman associated with it, will continue to live on as a cornerstone of pop culture, not just for horror fans, but everyone.  So stop complaining, and embrace it…bitch.

-Matt

Matt Oakley is a journalist and investigator of the unexplained.  He has written articles for the Politomatic & Culture of Spirits Blogs, as well as Intrepid Magazine, and made appearances on several radio programs.  Oakley currently writes, and is a radio personality for www.gralienreport.com and its sister radio show and podcast The Gralien Report.

Frankenweenie (2012)

I’ll admit than when I saw the trailer for Frankenweenie, I was cautiously enthusiastic. When it comes to upcoming films (and videogames… any media, I guess) I try not to get too hyped about them, because that makes the bitter sting of disappointment that much greater when things don’t pan out. In this editor’s opinion, Tim Burton hasn’t made a great film since Big Fish (2003). Now, put down the pitchforks, I said great, several are still good films, just not great. Perhaps coming from another director my expectations wouldn’t be as high, but I’ve always been a fan of Burton, especially his earlier works, such as Beetlejuice (1988), Batman (1989), Edward Scissorhands (1990), and though he didn’t direct it, the very much Burton film The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993). His newer offerings, such as Alice in Wonderland (2010), Corpse Bride (2005), and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005) have all had amazing visual style, but are simply lacking enough of the typical Burton charm to elevate them from being decent films to being amazing. Corpse Bride was especially disappointing to me in this regard, because I’m such a fan of stop-motion, and Corpse Bride looked amazing, but the story / writing was simply lacking any memorable impact.

But enough about disappointments, Frankenweenie is a return to form for Tim Burton. From the opening shots of a suburban sprawl (heavily echoing that of Edward Scissorhands) to the character designs that immediately bring to mind his other stop-motion works, this is a film that feels like something the director would have made at the early stages of his career. Perhaps that’s because it is, in a way, because it’s based on a live-action short Burton did in 1984 by the same name (a short that was supposed to be released alongside the Pinocchio (1940) re-release, but was pulled by Disney because it disturbed children at test screenings).

The plot is fairly straightforward; Victor (Charlie Tahan) is an introverted boy who likes to make movies, his only real friend is his dog, Sparky. Victor’s suburban town of New Holland is populated by a suitably bizarre cast of characters, from a girl whose cat (named Mr. Whiskers) apparently leaves prophecies in the litter box, to the new science teacher, Mr. Rzykruski (Martin Landau). Unfortunately for Victor, Sparky is hit by a car, and Victor’s solution to his grief is to bring him back in tried-and-true Frankenstein (1931) fashion. He is, of course, successful, but must hide his resurrected friend from his friends and parents (voiced by Catherine O’Hara and Martin Short). This all goes awry when his secret is discovered by his classmate, Edgar ‘E’ Gore (Atticus Shaffer), who demands to know how he’s managed to cheat death, and Victor concedes, with the stipulation that no one can know. Naturally, with the big science fair around the corner, Edgar can’t resist telling other students, which leads to a chaotic, horror-film-inspired third act.

This might be the best part of the film, which has nods to Gamera (1994) and Gremlins (1984) amongst others. In fact, the entire film is chock full of horror references; the storyline itself loosely follows that of Frankenstein, the parents are watching a Dracula film (voiced by Christopher Lee) in one scene, the poodle next door ends up looking like the Monster’s Bride from Bride of Frankenstein (1931), a model in one of Victor’s films looks almost exactly like Rodan from the 1956 film of the same name… I could go on, but you get the idea. It’s clear that Frankenweenie is Tim Burton’s homage to the films that inspired him in his youth, and perhaps Frankenweenie is his pseudo-biography in stop-motion form.

Frankenweenie’s only major flaw is perhaps its pacing, the time period between Sparky’s resurrection and the action-packed third act feels too slow for the events that precede and follow it, despite the fact that it contains more or less vital plot points. Despite this, the film is still a very enjoyable watch, and has plenty of humor to go along with its somewhat dark subject matter. As a matter of fact, I could easily see very young children being scared of this film, and it’s almost surprising that they got away with a PG rating, though in comparison to many films from the 80’s and 90’s a PG rating isn’t that far out of the question, political correctness be damned.

In summation, Frankenweenie does have problems here and there, but all the different parts are stitched together in such a way as to make the first Tim Burton film in a long time that really feels like it belongs to the director, as opposed to something that seems like he was talked into at a studio board meeting. If you long for Burton’s glory days, Frankenweenie just might fit the bill.

-Adam

The Monster Squad (1987)

Nostalgia has gotten out of control in the past couple of years, particularly when it relates to pop culture born in the ’80s and, to a lesser extent, the early portion of the ’90s. The worst part of it all is that I know it’s my generation’s fault*, so I would like to offer up an apology to society on behalf of all of us. What us twenty and thirty somethings need to take pause and remember is that just because we as children voraciously consumed a television show like Full House or a movie like Megaforce or because we got a Howard the Duck toy in our happy meals** on the weekly family jaunt to McDonalds doesn’t mean these entertainments are worthy of the “underrated” tag or the heaps of praise lavished on them online. Before you freak out, let me put my money where my mouth is by offering up a personal example.

As a child, I fucking loved He-Man. I had all the action figures my parents would allow in our modest home, and at one point, they even went on an odyssey to find Merman, who, for some reason, was the hardest action figure to find in the history of action figures. I had Castle Greyskull. I had assorted vehicles and Battle Cat and Panthor. The show and character are now 100% responsible for my unwavering loyalty to Dolph Lundgren. There is no way around it, facts are facts, I was pretty much obsessed with the show, watching it on a daily basis. But holy hell does that show suck now, a fact that was cruelly learned when I got a boxset containing the first season of the show a couple of years back. I got through around 7 episodes—which was a feat of nostalgic strength, I assure you—before I had to throw in the towel, realizing that the animation was elementary (if I had to see He-Man deep squat and toss a boulder at bad guys one more time, my mind may have snapped) and the stories rudimentary in the worst possible way.

Even worse is when I allow myself to be tricked into watching a film that a friend holds dear due to viewing it in his or her formative years, that for some reason (being grounded, the tape was always rented, rock slides, etc.), I missed as I was growing up. This never works out for either party. My reaction to the film falls into the range of ambivalence to outright violent dismissal 99% of the time, leading to awkward conversations once they pose the inevitable “Did you watch {insert film title here}?, Isn’t it awesome?”, questions that I then have to answer honestly because I’m that type of guy, unwilling to lie about not liking an arbitrary piece of pop culture. This happened to me when I caught The Wizard a couple of years back at the behest of several friends, all of whom have above-board taste in film, by the way. While the Fred Savage opus isn’t the worst offense ever put to celluloid, it’s rather bad, essentially a 90 minute ad for the original Nintendo Entertainment System and Super Mario 3, quite possibly the most hyped video game ever up until that point in time. I was bored to tears but at least my friends recognized my response to be rational, some even admitting that they hadn’t seen it in a long time, and with hindsight being 20/20, they may even feel the same way if they were to screen it now. For these reasons, I put off watching Monster Squad for a long time, a decision I have come to regret as it truly is an effort worthy of the cult status it attained after it bombed so spectacularly upon its release. Fred Dekker’s film is a blend of genre types, including action-adventure, horror, and comedy, making it a solid title that also makes viewers that grew up in the era responsible for Reganomics appropriately nostalgic.

The story follows a young lad by the name of Sean (Andre Gower) who, along with his friends, have formed a club based around their shared love of old-school horror films and their respective icons, Dracula, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Frankenstein’s Monster to name a few. They take science fiction and horror seriously; their rooms are decorated to the nines with vintage movie posters (Vampire Circus!) and action figures of the characters they hold dear. To enter their exclusive coalition, one must pass a pop quiz featuring a smattering of questions designed to make sure the potential member has the same burning passions they possess. The group is rounded out by Patrick, Sean’s best bud; the unfortunately nicknamed Fat Kid, otherwise known by his equally unfortunate Christian name, Horace; and Rudy, the cool-as-shit middle school kid that seems to have timed traveled back with Marty via his DeLorean, given his choice in wardrobe, bike style, and the fact that he likes to hang out at diners that carry with them a sensibility found in the ’50s, offering their customers malts via a park and order from your car service. Noticing the warning signs throughout their sleepy town, the grade-school fright fans come to discover that their favorite baddies have arrived in town, looking to take over the world by obtaining an amulet that would give Dracula the ultimate power he craves, and make the decision to take matters in their own hands, recognizing that this is the battle they have been unwittingly training for their entire lives.

The Monster Squad represents a solid entry in one of my favorite genres, The Team-Up Film***. The crux of this story concept is fairly simple: it brings together a disparate group of people with a common cause, goal, or enemy together, and sees if they can overcome their differences to use their exclusive talents to overcome the odds. Other examples of the Team-Up Film include this year’s The Avengers, Ocean’s 11, and The Seven Samurai. This little cinematic gem fits squarely within the Kids Team-Up subgenre, featuring classics like The Goonies and The Sandlot or in the underrated, forgotten (by most) film, BMX Bandits. These genre efforts tend to at least be interesting, and when you have a script writer that is on a roll, as Shane Black (Lethal Weapon) was at the time, and a director who brings an obvious love for old school horror to the table, you get a pretty damn fine kids flick, filled with bad-ass one-liners and moments that allow each member to get their place in the sun.

While its true that the film is more than a bit silly, propelled by several insane coincidences, Black’s script has a definite sense of fun and action, never taking itself too seriously, which helps to balance the menace of the monsters with the enthusiasm of the children. In a refreshing subtle fashion, his work also takes the B plot sincerely, one that doesn’t pop up frequently in movies of this nature, the marital woes of Sean’s parents, helping to make The Monster Squad unique. One of the biggest things going for Dekker’s film is the fact that movies like this don’t get made anymore. Child actors smoke, the fat kid goes by Fat Kid, the words homo and faggot are thrown around liberally, and Patrick’s older sister’s (an early high school student, at best) virginity is consistently called into question. I’m not one to use this type of language or to discriminate against others due to weight or sexual orientation, but it is refreshing in how un-PC it is while managing to become an accurate representation of how it was to grow up in the time of Hypercolor shirts and Jams, ultimately imbuing the film with a sense of reality that help to counteract aspects that date the film. In the clip below, both Fat Kid and Rudy (wicked entrance) are introduced along with the bully of the picture–played by the go to prepubescent/teen asshole of the ‘80s, Jason Hervey–giving everyone a good taste of the tone employed in the next hour and a half.

It’s a crime that both The Monster Squad and Night of the Creeps failed at the box office, as Dekker was a unique directorial voice, something we need more of in cinema, and specifically in the horror genre. Between these two efforts and his script work on another, mostly forgotten genre offering in House, I think it was obvious that he was one of the more talented horror auteurs at that time, deftly blending horror and comedy troupes together for maximum effect. He would only go on to direct one other film, bottoming out with 1993’s odious Robocop 3. Hopefully, he can take solace in the fact that both have gone on to find generous followings, an audience who appreciates his talents, and film lovers who are on his wavelength. More importantly, he managed to get this film buff to move past his rants and raves to deeply enjoy a film that transcends the trappings of nostalgia.

-David

*And VH1 for those horrendous I-Love-Whatever –Decade-Is-In-Vogue-This-Week show staring D-list celebrities making truly God-awful jokes about New Coke and Dana Plato.

**Don’t get overly excited, to my knowledge, this never happened.

***I may have just coined this phrase, as Google doesn’t really provide me with solid hits on the phrase “team up movies”. If so, I will begin charging $10 per use of this phrase to those who wish to use it.

V/H/S (2012)

I will move on to other sections of the horror genre, yet here I am with yet another anthology. This time I’m going a bit more current. Some of you may have heard some buzz about this one. It just hit a very select 15 theaters on Friday and its called V/H/S. It’s received some high praise from critics, which is very unusual for a “found footage” film. It has been available On-Demand since the beginning of September, so I decided to see what all the fuss was about. Needless to say I was skeptical, what with the recent market flood of horror films shot by any Joe Schmo with an HD camera. A quick glance at the Netflix streaming horror section will turn your stomach, in a bad way. This sub-genre of horror has blown up worldwide in the past 5 years. A big reason why is money. The budget of these kinds of films are microscopic when compared to a summer blockbuster. Take Paranormal Activity for example. That film had an estimated budget of $15,000, yet went on to gross nearly $200 MILLION worldwide. That’s an astronomical return on investment that any film studio will take to the bank. While this is an extreme case, even a modest hit in theaters is worth the studio’s effort to promote. Let me assure you that V/H/S is not just a part of the market flood. This film stands out from the other imitators and will actually scare you, or at least give you a good case of the heeby-jeebies.

We open on a group of guys riding around in a car. Just on patrol looking for innocent girls to run up to, grab, flip their shirts up for the camera and sell the tape. It’s some sort of black market deal they’ve been doing for a while. One of their friends says that they can make 20 times that in one night of work. All they have to do is find and steal one particular tape out of this house. Sounds easy, and really shady but they all go along with it anyway. During their search of the house they come across a body of an old man in a recliner in front of a wall of TVs and VCRs, the floor scattered with unmarked VHS tapes. The searching of the tapes makes up the rest of the film as we the viewers see the same thing the thieves are watching. The “editing” of this section of the film is unique since the entire time we are on the main story, we are essentially watching a VHS tape. Piecing together scenes from where people recorded over the tape’s prior video seems disjointed and sloppy, but I think it only adds to the found footage feel of the film. It’s too bad VHS is virtually an obsolete platform, otherwise you could have some fun making copies of this film to blank tapes and handing them out.

Each of the short films has a gimmick of some kind. Contrary to what I expected, not all of this is originally filmed on VHS but for the sake of the main plot, all of the video was transferred to VHS format. The first segment “Amateur Night”,which was filmed entirely with hidden camera glasses. “Second Honeymoon”, by up and coming horror director Ti West, as well as “Tuesday The 17th” were both shot in POV on standard HD hand held cameras. “The Strange Thing That Happened To Emily” is entirely Skype video chat. Finally “10/31/98” is filmed with a camera hidden inside a Halloween costume. With different directors on each of these segments, the film stays fresh. This is where an anthology format helps tremendously. Stretching these POV plots out to 90+ minutes can be a huge mistake, and taking any of these individual stories that far would have surely ruined them.

In “Amateur Night” three guys who get a pair of glasses with a hidden video camera in the bridge decide to have some fun and try to pick up some girls and film them having sex. This part has some real humor in it as these clowns get more and more drunk as the night goes on. When they end up in a hotel room with two girls, things get crazy when one of the girls turns out to be a bit aggressive. The glasses-cam is a pretty sweet idea, but if you got motion sickness during Cloverfield then prepare yourself.

I knew of Ti West, but I’ve never seen anything he’s done up until now. He’s probably best known for the 80’s throwback film House Of The Devil. In “Second Honeymoon” we follow a couple taking a trip through the southwest to the Grand Canyon. While staying at a hotel they are confronted by a mysterious young girl looking for a ride. The couple is a bit unnerved by this, but they go on with their vacation. Unknown to them, however, is that they are having a visitor in their hotel room every night. There’s some good tension here and the POV is very intimate and well done. Some of it reminds me of the POV sections of Kathryn Bigelow’s cruelly underrated film, Strange Days.

“Tuesday The 17th” seems the weak link in the chain for me. Horror cliches abound with 4 kids going up to a lake where some murders supposedly took place years ago. The interesting bit about this section is that the killer, for some unexplained reason, cannot be seen through a camera. This does leave a lot of room for some slight of hand special effects fun and this section works on a slasher film level. By far this is the goriest part of the film, and some people may need to turn away.

“The Strange Thing That Happened To Emily” takes Skype chat to another level. The entire short film is composed of different conversations around a young woman who’s med student boyfriend is out of town. She’s just moved into a new apartment and she thinks it’s haunted. This short has the most in common with films like Paranormal Activity, both in scare style and in content. There is a nice twist in this one and it turns out to be one of the better segments of the film after a really slow start.

“10/31/98” directed by the virtually known, yet commercially unknown directing collective known as Radio Silence, is far and away my favorite segment of the film. Four guys (the camera being hidden inside one guy’s bear costume) get an invite on Halloween to a haunted house party. So in full costume they show up at this well lit house, but nobody seems to be home. They go in and start checking the place out, running into your standard flickering lights and strange noises. It’s all fun and games until they run into something they weren’t supposed to see. The mad dash through the haunted house is a ton of fun to watch, cramming so many “what the fuck!” moments into the last five minutes.

V/H/S’s buzz is well earned. I can only imagine how fun this would be in a theater full of people, but it plays well at home with all the lights out as well. My girl, who was brave and watched this with me, was creeped out for days afterward. If you’re sick of the Paranormal Activity films (the fourth installment hits theaters in a week or so), then you could do a lot worse than V/H/S. I hope they expand the theatrical run to the major markets by Halloween, because I’d love to see this in theaters.

-Wes Kelly

Creepshow (1982)

Let me start by saying that Creepshow is one of my personal favorites, horror or otherwise. I’m sure there are faults to be found, but ever since my father introduced me to this movie I’ve had an unabashed love for Creepshow. I think the same can be said for my father and brother as well, and the three of us quote it fairly frequently (it seems that good movies are always highly quotable). Creepshow is set up as an anthology, with a brief psuedo-short that bookends the five short films that make up the film.

Personally, I enjoy anthology films (which seem to be overwhelmingly set in the horror genre, such as Tales from the Darkside (1990) Cat’s Eye (1985) and the more recent offering Trick r’ Treat (2007)), if only because short films are often straightforward in their setup and delivery, and don’t require as much to be a solid piece of filmmaking. That’s not to say that a short film is superior to a full-length feature or vice-versa; they’re different animals and what works for one will not necessarily work for the other. And with anthology films, if one particular segment is terrible, the next one might be great.

Creepshow excels because all of the segments have their own charm (not to mention an excellent cast); this is largely because the whole affair is an homage to the classic horror comics produced by William H. Gaines’ EC Comics, namely The Haunt of Fear, The Vault of Horror, and the well-known Tales from the Crypt. Better still, Creepshow is a collaborative effort between horror-legends George A. Romero and Stephen King, both of whom created the film because of the influence of EC Comics had on them. Most of the segments have some sort of moral lesson, just as the comics they were inspired by did, and if you’ve familiar with HBO Tales from the Crypt TV show, you have a fairly good idea of the kind of stories each segment tells. To further reinforce the comic book inspiration, each segment starts and ends with an illustrated “comic book” image that transition into and out of the actual live action.

The first full segment, titled “Father’s Day,” is about an aging, wealthy, overbearing father (Jon Lormer) who drove his daughter (Viveca Lindfors) to murder him on Father’s Day with an ashtray* after he had her lover killed. This segment takes place 7 years after the fact, as the entire family, knowing that they owe their current wealth to “Aunt Bedilia” has a “celebration” every Father’s Day to mark the occasion. Hank Blaine (Ed Harris), has recently married into the family, and he and the rest of the family will soon find out how very badly Aunt Bedilia’s father wanted his Father’s Day cake.

“The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill” segments stars Stephen King as a country bumpkin who discovers a meteorite in his backyard. Said meteorite happens to cause a bizarre plant growth that begins to cover literally everything. This segment is largely humorous, with several “dream sequences” where King’s character imagines the outcomes of his actions in a suitably ridiculous fashion. King gives a somewhat over-the-top performance here, and while still entertaining, this is probably the weakest segment.

“Something to Tide You Over” stars late, great Leslie Nielson, in an atypical role as a jealous husband who decides to get revenge on his wife and her lover (Ted Danson) by burying them up to their necks in sand on an isolated beach, telling them that when the tide inevitably comes in, they can make it if “you can hold your breath.” In typical EC fashion, revenge is exacted, and death proves no deterrent to those seeking it. It’s great to see Nielson in a non-comedic role, and he really shows his acting chops as a villain. Perhaps one of the better factoids about this segment is that the haunting, carnivalesque music that backs the segment is, in fact, “Camptown Races” played extremely slow and off-key.

“The Crate,” which is my personal favorite segment, stars Hal Holbrook as Henry, who is married to the insufferable Wilma “Billie” Northrup (Adrienne Barbeau). His only joy seems to be playing chess with his fellow professor Dexter (Fritz Weaver). When a janitor at the university calls Dexter in to examine an ancient crate he found under the stairs, neither of them could imagine that it contained something alive and hungry, leaving Henry to decide what to do with its contents. Adrienne Barbeau pulls off obnoxious in a way that would drive anyone out of their mind, and this entire segment is one of the scarier of the bunch, with some great scenes that stick with you.

“They’re Creeping Up on You” centers around Upson Pratt (E.G. Marshall, perhaps best known for his role in 12 Angry Men), a wealthy businessman who lives in a pristine, almost-sterile apartment in Manhattan. Almost sterile, except for the roaches that he can’t stand and can’t seem to get rid of. Through his angry phone calls and mutterings to himself it becomes obvious that Mr. Pratt feels that most of humanity is like the roaches he so loathes. On this particular night, however, Mr. Pratt’s concerns that the roaches, like his subordinates, are creeping up on him are not entirely unfounded.

These five segments are encompassed by a brief story entailing a angry father (Tom Atkins) who has just thrown away his son’s (Joe Hill, Stephen King’s son) horror comic, which is, of course, an issue of Creepshow**, which the boy is rather upset about. Keep an eye out for special effects guru and horror legend Tom Savini (who also did the special effects for the film) as a garbage man in this sequence.

Upon re-watching it for the umpteenth time for this review, I found myself grinning as soon as the familiar intro music started up; Creepshow carefully walks the tightrope of a film that deals with horrible things happening to people (some that rightly deserve it) and being a film that is extremely fun to watch and oftentimes funny, even if what is happening would never be humorous in real life (nevermind supernatural). Often overlooked by horror buffs now, Creepshow deserves credit for not only being an example of an anthology movie done right, but for its spot-on homage to the EC Comics that inspired it. Any fan of the HBO Tales from the Crypt should give Creepshow a watch, and if you’ve already seen Creepshow, give its less-than-perfect sequel Creepshow 2 (1987) a look as well. It’s the most fun you’ll ever have being scared.

-Adam

* As a bit of trivia, this ashtray appears in every segment of the film, including the bookends.

** The comic used in the film was drawn and inked by none other than EC Comics artist Jack Kamen, who agreed to do it after another EC Comics artist, “Ghastly” Graham Ingels declined.

Dead of Night (1945)

Anthology films usually disappoint. This offering comes mostly from England circa 1945. Dead Of Night, from what I can tell, is the first horror film anthology. Short films were not usually innovative at this point in cinema history, but tying them all together through a main, revisited storyline was. In an era dominated by creature features involving vampires, werewolves and other supernatural monsters, Dead Of Night stands out as a cinematic achievement in storytelling. It plays more like a series of really creepy campfire stories than a standard three act plot.

The main story begins with architect Walter Craig (Mervyn Johns) visiting an old house on business when he realizes that everyone in the house has been a part of a reoccurring nightmare for him. Trying to rid his worries that his dream has come to life, the occupants of the house begin telling their own stories of coincidence and odd occurrences. A race car driver who has a near death experience receives a premonition of impending death. A young girl playing games at a Christmas party in a old mansion has a run-in with an unknown child. A woman gets her husband an antique mirror that lets him see a bit more than his reflection. Two golfing friends vying for the affections of a woman end their quarrel with haunting results. A ventriloquist reaches his breaking point when he suspects another man of trying to undermine his act. Four directors (Alberto Cavalcante, Charles Crichton, Basil Dearden & Robert Hamer) handle these 5 stories and the linking narrative in an amazing collaborative effort that I’ve not seen equaled in a horror film.

While taken on their own, these stories are not terribly impressive. The stories and ideas are well conceived and the acting is very good, though the obvious standout is the ventriloquist story directed by Alberto Cavalcante. I’ve never heard of Cavalcante (who is billed by last name only) before this, but his work will be well remembered here. Michael Redgrave gives a great, though all too brief performance as Max Frere a ventriloquist who appears to be losing control of his dummy, Hugo.

While this is easily the creepiest part of the film, the crowning achievement of Dead Of Night is the linking narrative story. The final sequence when Craig’s nightmare begins to take form, which connects the entire film, is so masterfully put together that I had to go back and watch it again, which I rarely do right after a film ends. Every element of all six stories are tied up in the ending, which is so incredibly satisfying to watch. As I said before, most anthology films disappoint. The problem lies primarily in linking the stories together in a coherent narrative. If this is done poorly or isn’t done at all, then any weak section of the film can ruin it for the viewer leaving us feeling let down. Dead Of Night has some sections that are weaker than others, but it doesn’t even matter when the storytelling is of this caliber. You may have never heard of this British gem, but if you love horror films it should be on your must see list.

-Wes Kelly

Cannibal Holocaust (1980)

For more than a decade audiences have been inundated with so-called found footage films that either tread water for a while, or drown horribly in shark-infested waters. The Blair Witch Project, Paranormal Activity, Quarantine/REC, Chernobyl Diaries, and Grave Encounters, as well as the upcoming V/H/S are just a few of these movies that keep theater goers firmly planted in their seats with one thought in their heads, “This one just has to be better than the last one I saw.” It’s easy to see why any studio would back these films; while some do bring plenty to the table, most are shelled out on shoestring budgets that more times than not turn over millions in profit to the studio that was willing to produce them. But before the latest fad of true stories and found footage, and before these guaranteed moneymakers began to numb our minds, one film stood alone, and it is still shocking to audiences all over the world to this day.

The film is Cannibal Holocaust, a venture by Italian director Ruggero Deodato, a project that has been banned in more than fifty countries on charges of obscenity, and even led to Deodato himself being arrested. Filmed in 1979, but not released until 1980, many regard Cannibal Holocaust as the quintessential Grindhouse movie, as well as the peak of the cannibal movie craze of the 1970s. As much of a one trick pony the cannibal genre was at this time, Deodato brilliantly brought something to the table that audiences had never seen, and that was the innovation of the “found footage” aspect. For the first time in film history, audiences were told that they would be the first to see the horrific footage that was discovered by researchers and has now been deemed fit to see by the general public. In this way, Cannibal Holocaust broke a barrier that would not come into serious play until almost twenty years later with the arrival of The Blair Witch Project.

Filmed within the Amazon rainforest, the plot revolves around four missing U.S. documentarians who go to shoot a film about native cannibalistic tribes deep within the Amazon Basin. The film opens with protagonist Harold Monroe, an NYU anthropologist played by Robert Kerman, volunteering to lead a rescue expedition to extract the lost team. The rescue mission, with the help of a captured native being used as a sort of unwilling pseudo-guide, comes across the tribe of the Yacumo. Initially being met with hostility, the team learns that their colleagues had caused serious problems on their way through, months earlier.

The next day, the rescue team sets out to locate the two largest indigenous tribes, the Yanomamo, and the Shamatari. After coming across a battle between the warring tribes, the team assists a small group of the Yanomamo in their escape. Upon their being brought back to the village by the surviving warriors, the team discovers the bones of the missing American crew placed atop a shrine. Monroe is then forced into a barter situation with the tribe for the last remaining reels of film, which are only given to him after he participates in a cannibalistic ritual.

After his return to America, Monroe begins to review the horrifying footage that was shot by the initial film crew, discovering their deterioration of humanity all in order to capture the most exciting documentary possible. The unedited footage shows the murder of villagers, the rape of a young village girl, and the mutilation of countless animals. After all of these terrible events, Monroe eventually comes face-to-face with a harrowing explanation into the film crew’s demise.

The movie does exactly what it set out to do, which is to disturb audiences everywhere, and in doing so exacted political, social, and media backlash. After a mere ten days of the film’s opening, the reels were confiscated by Italian police, and the director found himself in jail. After the overwhelmingly positive reaction by audiences, it appears that several theater-goers filed complaints with the courts regarding the film. Deodato was detained due to suspicion that he had actually murdered actors and tribal people in order to accomplish the effects shown in the film. One scene in particular that was flagged shows a native who, after being brutally raped, is vertically impaled on wooden pole, the top of which is shown to be jutting straight out of her mouth. The director had also included in the contracts with all of the film’s stars that they were not allowed to appear in any film or television endeavors until a year after the films initial release. During court proceedings, Deodato was required to retract this clause within the actors’ contracts and allow them to appear on television as proof that they had not been slaughtered. Another part of the trail forced the director to divulge how exactly the vertical impalement special effect was achieved (which consisted of the actress sitting on a bicycle seat fixed to the pole, and hold a long piece of wood the same size in her mouth while looking straight up).

Another issue that is repeatedly brought up are the instances of animal cruelty depicted in the film, of which there are several to choose. As opposed to attempting animatronics or other means of special effects to depict the killing of animals, the filmmakers opted to actual mutilate several creatures on camera. Those included are a tortoise, a muskrat, and a baby monkey, all of which are disturbing sequences that most will not be able to stomach. These scenes are largely unwarranted and simply used to provide even more shock value than the viewer has already been subjected.

Many people also have an issue with the explicitly violent sequences, both sexual and otherwise. In an interview with a colleague who had also seen the film, it was stated that “frankly, the level of hedonism and sexual depravity the film features isn’t so much shocking or tantalizing, as it is instead rather cheap, disgusting, or in the majority of cases, just pathetic.” Many critics at the time the film was released came to the same conclusion and that because of these issues; the bad definitely outweighs the good, and there is hardly a redeeming factor to Deodato’s self-proclaimed masterpiece.

The music is an outstanding factor to the film. Composer Riz Ortolani, whose music has been featured in such films as Inglorious Basterds, and the Kill Bill series, brings a score to the table that should not work with the images flashing before you on the screen, but somehow molds and ties itself in seamlessly with the film and also works very well on its own. Having come across a rare copy of the soundtrack myself, I was compelled to pick it up and listen in confusion and enjoyment. The soundtrack is made up of a wide collection of different styles, and for someone who has not seen or heard of the film, it would definitely throw them way off the mark, from pieces that are reminiscent of 70s and early 80s pop and rock music, to soothing strings and synthesizer orchestrations, to pieces that seem like they came out of some cheesy late 70s porno. Some critics have even asserted that the only good thing in the film is its astonishing score.

But the really amazing factor to Cannibal Holocaust lies in its deep subtext. Many see the film as a comparison between modern Western civilization and the tribal cultures depicted in the film. The illustration is present that even though we in the Western world would deem ourselves more civilized or advanced than the indigenous people depicted in the film, that it no way makes us immune to the same sinister urges or actions that we feel could be separating the two cultures. The characters in the found footage sequences operate on a level of amorality that most would not think is possible. This aspect leaves the viewer not with a feeling that those are necessarily bad people but that it is possible for almost anyone to become the monster depicted onscreen in the right circumstances.

All in all, this is a phenomenal piece of work from the exploitation-horror subgenre of the 1970s; the only catch is that you need to have a strong stomach in order to make your way through it. After a viewing of the film with several friends, I have heard the film referred to as “an exercise in depravity,” and that “anyone who has a caring spirit would have serious ethical issues with this film.” For the majority of viewers, this would be a fair representation of what is put on the screen in front of you. It is very hard to move past the face value of the images on the screen and not read more into the subtext of what is going on, but if you are able to, the film is well worth it. It is not strictly the gore that warrants these cautions, but the utter realism and intense nature of its subject matter. Modern horror filmmakers rely, in a large part, on gore or scenes of over-the-top violence to shock the viewer, but this film does something entirely different. It shocks and scares you by showing the absolute deterioration that can occur within even the most moral and civilized people. One of man’s greatest fears is of the monster within himself, and this film unleashes it in full force.

-Matt

Matt Oakley is a journalist and investigator of the unexplained.  He has written articles for the Politomatic & Culture of Spirits Blogs, as well as Intrepid Magazine, and made appearances on several radio programs.  Oakley currently writes, and is a radio personality for www.gralienreport.com and its sister radio show and podcast The Gralien Report.

Cabin in the Woods (2012)

Unbelievably, we are already in the home stretch of 2012, a majority of films have already come out, and the whittling down process of making a year-end, best films list has begun. All things considered, it’s been a decent year at the movies, and with the slate of films still unreleased it could conceivably push up to, and hopefully past, the great standard. What has made this year unique—at least for me—is that the two best films of the year were released in the early part of it, the time that is primarily known as a dumping ground for films that studios don’t know how to handle (The Grey), or, for the most part, a cinematic abomination (One for the Money). As you might well have guessed, in my somewhat humble estimation, Cabin in the Woods is, indeed, one of these films I speak of, as it successfully presents itself as THE smart horror film of the year and also the most exhilarating ride I’ve gone on at the cinema all year. I held off in posting on it upon my first viewing for two reasons:

1. It’s a perfect movie to start off my series of posts on the horror/suspense genre and to kick off our celebration of the month of October and Halloween. Duh.
2. I rarely respond to a film in a 100% positive nature. Therefore, I needed to view it a couple of more times (3 watches and counting) before issuing a declarative statement like the following:

 AS OF NOW, CABIN IN THE WOODS IS THE BEST FILM OF THE YEAR.

There. I said it. Commence stone throwing now, if you wish.

What is even more unbelievable is that Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard’s meta horror/comedy took an eternity to see the light of day as MGM shelved the movie—despite a positive reception at a test screening—in the hopes of needlessly converting it into a movie sporting the THIRD DIMENSION, a move that the creative team rightly disagreed with. Then there was a pesky regime shakeup and the projects belonging to the old suits got shelved in favor for the projects of the new suits. Idiots. The end result was an excellent movie languishing in MGM’s basement until they finally saw fit to hand off the rights for distribution to Lionsgate. All we horror fans could do was wait; wait and hope that the word leaked onto the Internet about that mythical screening was true, that Goddard and Whedon had indeed crafted an intelligent horror flick, one that was superior to 99% of all the other recent genre offerings, and that they had somehow managed to enliven the horror film by introducing a few new creative twists to a type of photoplay that often gets weighed down by the inertia of a cookie-cutter thought process.

First and foremost, Cabin in the Woods is an insanely entertaining movie that enjoys playing with the audience’s collective memory of horror movie troupes, which essentially demands that you see it in a packed movie house (if you didn’t get the opportunity, cue the sad trombone noise in your head now), or, as your second-best option, with as many like-minded friends as possible, with a good sound system, some suds, and a rather large TV, the monolith of our times. Simply put, it is lively, it is thrilling, and it is intelligent. Sadly, its nigh impossible to talk about without giving away its twists, turns, and secrets, as the film starts to dole those out from the opening minutes, creating an elegant, slow drip of information, giving up its pleasures to the audience little by little.

The setup for Cabin couldn’t be more elementary. Five well-known college-kid types meet up, jump into a motorhome, and head off together for a weekend vacation in the remotely located structure that gives the film its namesake. Along for the ride are Dana, the sensitive one; her sexed-up friend Jules; her athletic, handsome boyfriend Curt (Chris Hemsworth); the equally handsome but somewhat scholarly Holden; and everyone’s favorite character, Marty, the stoner who may not be as stupid or burnt out as he appears. With their liquor and enormous bong in tow, the vacationers set out, survive an unsettling (aren’t they always?) encounter with a redneck local, and then begin to explore their destination and all its unsettling, unusual décor, like a sadistic painting that hides an ominous 2-way mirror. Unfettered by their findings, they decide to play a round of Truth or Dare, which ultimately leads them to a basement full of worrisome objects, one of which happens to be the diary of Patience Buckner, the first resident of the cabin, whose entire family was brutally murdered by her deranged, pioneer father. By reading the words contained in the dust-covered diary, the reanimated corpses of the Buckner clan spring forth from the ground in a rather disconcerting, blood-thirsty mood, once again proving that nothing good ever comes from reading a young girl’s innermost thoughts out loud to your friends on the sly.

This is story B. Story A, which is moving along at the same time as the one above, follows Steve (Richard Jenkins) and Richard (Bradley Whitford), two guys who appear to be starting in on a fairly innocuous workday at some sort of military base or defense command center. You know, short-sleeve dress shirts and name badges, boilerplate stuff like that. These two gentlemen are boring and mundane, just like the conversations they partake in while getting their morning coffee, and we have no idea how they connect to the young, carefree, and sexed-up college students in story B. And therein lies the fun of the piece.

What Whedon and Goddard have done with Cabin in the Woods is create a world in which all the illogical and archetypal behaviors and characters inherent in offerings from the horror genre are framed in a light that begins to make real-world sense. There is always a reason for how things play out, and it’s not just because these people are obtuse. For me, this is the greatest pleasure in a film full of them, how it takes great joy in running down the checklist of horror clichés, subverting each one, much like Scream did 16 years ago but with the wink-wink, nudge-nudge, elbow to the solar plexus nature of Craven and Williamson’s work surgically removed, instead opting for a tone that is less self-conscious. If this is all the film had on its mind to do, it would still be fun, but the hard left turn it takes in the third act helps the movie go from good to utterly fantastic and provides at least 3 moments that I still can’t believe I witnessed projected onto a movie screen.

Some have argued that the ending is rather nihilistic, which is true. While I can’t claim to be the most avid of Whedon followers, I do know enough about his work to say that the ending isn’t one that seems out of place, and I would argue that in the work of his I have viewed, he’s certainly laid the groundwork for an ending of this nature. Jenkins and Whitford are outstanding (and hilarious) as they embody characters that seem to be avatars for the creative duo. They know the audience wants heaping doses of carnage in their cinematic diet—even if they don’t—and they’re here to give it to them. The fact that their film does all this with a wicked sense of humor, remain endlessly inventive while paying homage to the films that inspired it, and succeeding in coming up with a shot that somehow managed to act as a summation of all the things that brought me fits of terror at night when I was a child, is a rather impressive feat indeed, one that makes me happy on a truly pure level.

-David