For today’s public domain horror film, I present to you 1959’s Attack of the Giant Leeches. This 60-minute film is a classic Drive-in film. While it has its slow spots, it also features an iconic performance from Yvette Vickers, who is like one of my favorites of the strong, confident, unapologetically sexy women who dominated the old B-movies. (Plus, she was only 5’3 and it’s not easy being brave when you’re having to look up at everyone. Trust me, I know.) Sadly, she passed away under truly sad circumstances last year but instead of going into that, I’d rather just remember the classic performance that she gives in this film.
I have to admit that I’m kinda freaked out by the scenes of people floating underwater in this film. And leeches … agck! Don’t even get me started on leeches. Especially giant leeches…
My father was working in a precinct in Manhattan, and on occasion, my family would have to drive into the city to either get his check or help him file / retrieve something there. Whenever we went to Manhattan, we always saw something grand, like the “Ghost Building” which was shimmered in white light (this was actually Rockefeller Center, but my little sister, brother and I never knew). We once even saw the ’89 Batmobile tear through the city on it’s way to deliver the video release of Tim Burton’s Batman to the Tower Records uptown.
At a stop light, right by the Flatiron Building, I happened to glance around at some of the construction scaffolds. They always put movie posters on there, and I’d squint to see what was coming out soon. That’s when it caught my eye, a pink poster that looked like someone was swimming underwater. We got a little closer as my dad had to make a turn and I was then able to make it out.
“Oh no.”, I muttered, scrunching down in my seat. “They redid it.” All my childhood fears came flooding up in a wave of memories.
I once saw Larry Hagman’s Beware! The Blob (alternately known as Son of Blob) when I was really little. The idea that a gooey mass could squeeze under doors and through window cracks and anywhere there was a space freaked me out. This wasn’t Michael Meyers looking for his sister, or Jason Vorhees guarding Crystal Lake. There was no reasoning my little mind could use to feel better about it. Add to the fact it was only bothered by the cold, it made every summer a secret “look over the shoulder” one. When I attended my first bowling match for fun in college, I’ll admit I hesitated to step out into the bowling alley, if only for a second.
I never saw the movie in the theatre. I got so caught up in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and everyone talked about Die Hard so much that The Blob became something of a blip to the school kids (from what I remember), but it remembered. I read the poster, and kept tabs on the writer’s names – Frank Darabont and Chuck Russell, who both went on to interesting projects over the years.
Okay, enough about my history with The Blob, let’s dig into the film, which is quite possibly one of the best remakes I’ve ever seen. It hits all of the notes of the original while setting down the groundwork for new directions when some fresh ideas. It’s not perfect, but it’s damn good.
The Blob is a re-telling of the classic 1958 film with Steve McQueen, only this time, Chuck Russell (The Mask) and Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, The Mist) brought Kevin Dillon and Shawnee Smith aboard. It’s the story of a small town that receives a strange visitor from outer space in the form of a gelatenous mass inside of a meteor. When an old man gets a little too curious with a yard stick, it jumps out on and onto his hand. Needless to say, if you ever see anything fall from the sky, please, don’t go running to check it out. It never really ends well. At least, I’ve never heard of it doing so.
Anyway, like the original, the old man is found by the Gallant Hero (Donovan Leitch) and Heroine (Smith), who put him in their car and head to the local hospital. This results in the death of the old man, but also a twist in that the Gallant Hero is also killed / absorbed by the Blob. Shawnee’s character tries to save him, but to no avail. She’s should consider herself lucky that she made it through okay. While I didn’t see this in the theatre, I always wondered what effect that might have had on the audience. I mean, here you had the would be hero of the story and he’s taken out of the picture in the first act. That had to be amazing, I think.
As with the original, the Blob makes its way to the main part of town by way of the sewer, heading into the local movie theatre. Before getting there, there’s a interesting scene where Meg and Flagg (Dillon) – the bad boy turned reluctant hero – run into the Blob in a diner and hide in a nearby refrigerator. Rather than go with the classic “solidify it all in one piece”, Darabont and Russell decided to make the Blob’s freezing effect more like pieces of quartz. I thought this made things all the more scary – how could one really tell that all of it was ever collected while it was frozen?
One has to feel just a little sorry for Candy Clarke’s character. You run into a phone booth to make a phone call, only to have slime run down the sides. To top it off, you try to make a phone call for the local sheriff (played by Darabont favorite Jeffrey DeMunn from all of his films and The Walking Dead), and as if it answered for her, the Blob puts his decaying face right on the phone booth window. Another twist thrown in the remake is the death of a child. Usually in horror movies, kids are usually spared. Usually. Not so here, and it just adds to the horror of things. No one’s safe unless you’re walking around with some liquid nitrogen, and it’s not like that’s in great supply.
Eventually, we come to find – thanks to a lot of men in white suits and Crossroads Joe Seneca – that the Blob was actually man made, and it’s the scientists fault it came back the way it did. What I found interesting about that was the idea that they felt they had to burn it. Didn’t anyone think of bringing something cold? I mean, they’re scientists. Someone in the group had to have that idea at some point. Anyway, this all ends with a huge battle in the middle of a busy street and the townsfolk hiding in the municipal hall. Meg and Flagg do find a way to get everything fixed, but (as with many horror movies), we’re left with the promise of another sequel.
Overall, I loved The Blob. There’s very little I can find wrong with it, given that the source material was never really Oscar worthy to begin with. This was just a sit down for the adult in me, grab your popcorn and enjoy the film.
The kid in me prefers to watch this in a very cold room, just in case.
Hi! Good morning and Happy October the 26th! For today’s plunge into the world of public domain horror films, I’d like to present you with a true classic. From 1960, it’s the original Little Shop of Horrors!
When I was 19 years old, I was in a community theater production of the musical Little Shop of Horrors. Though I think I would have made the perfect Audrey, everybody always snickered whenever I sang so I ended up as a part of “the ensemble.” Being in the ensemble basically meant that I spent a lot of time dancing and showing off lots of cleavage. And you know what? The girl who did play Audrey was screechy, off-key, and annoying and after every show, all the old people in the audience always came back stage and ignored her and went straight over to me. So there.
Anyway, during rehearsals, our director thought it would be so funny if we all watched the original film. Now, I’m sorry to say, much like just about everyone else in the cast, this was my first exposure to the original and I even had to be told that the masochistic dentist patient was being played by Jack Nicholson. However, I’m also very proud to say that — out of that entire cast — I’m the only one who understood that the zero-budget film I was watching was actually better than the big spectacle we were attempting to perform on stage. Certainly, I understood the film better than that screechy little thing that was playing Audrey.
The first Little Shop of Horrors certainly isn’t scary and there’s nobody singing about somewhere that’s green (I always tear up when I hear that song, by the way). However, it is a very, very funny film with the just the right amount of a dark streak to make it perfect Halloween viewing.
So, if you have 72 minutes to kill, check out the original and the best Little Shop of Horrors…
Hi there and Happy October 25th! For today’s treat from the ranks of horror films that have fallen into the public domain, I present to you one of the most important films in horror history. Though it wasn’t appreciated when it was first released back in 1964, The Last Man On Earth was not only the 1st Italian horror film but George Romero has also acknowledged it as an influence on his own Night of the Living Dead.
It’s easy to be a little bit dismissive of The Last Man On Earth. After all, the low-budget is obvious in every scene, the dubbing is off even by the standards of Italian horror, and just the name “Vincent Price” in the credits leads one to suspect that this will be another campy, B-movie. Perhaps that’s why I’m always surprised to rediscover that, taking all things into consideration, this is actually a pretty effective film. Price does have a few over-the-top moments but, for the most part, he gives one of his better performances here and the black-and-white images have an isolated, desolate starkness to them that go a long way towards making this film’s apocalypse a convincing one. The mass cremation scene always leaves me feeling rather uneasy.
The film is based on Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend and no, it’s nowhere as good as the book. However, it’s a lot better than the Will Smith version.
If you have 87 minutes to kill, please enjoy The Last Man On The Earth.
I know what you’re going to say before you say it.
“Okay, Lisa,” you sigh, “I hate to tell you this butLive and Let Dieis not a horror film. Live and Let Die is a James Bond film. In fact, it’s the first one to feature Roger Moore in the role of Bond. It’s the one where Yaphet Kotto is the guy who’s both a Harlem drug dealer and a world leader and he’s planning on importing all this heroin from Haiti or somewhere and Bond runs off with his Tarot card reader who is played by Jane Seymour, who has mismatched eyes, just like you!”
“Thank you,” I say in my shy little way as my cheeks flush red and my mismatched eyes glance downward.
“However,” you continue, “it’s hardly a horror film. Live and Let Die is just the James Bond film where they go to Louisiana and end up chasing each other in boats and then Clifton James shows up as this redneck sheriff and its just kinda embarrassing.”
“May I speak now?” I ask as I narrow my multi-colored eyes at you, “Now, to be honest, I’ve only recently started to really watch all of the old school James Bond films from the 60s and the 70s but Live and Let Die is actually one of my favorites, even with Clifton James as Sheriff J.W. Pepper. I mean, the film’s actually a lot of fun, Yaphet Kotto made a great villain, and even if Roger Moore wasn’t quite as sexy and dangerous as Sean Connery was, at least he wasn’t all stiff and humorless like Daniel Craig. In fact, I think it could be argued that Live and Let Die was the first — and maybe only — truly Grindhouse James Bond film. I just find it interesting how the whole film is basically a hybrid of all of the big exploitation genres of 1973. The scenes in Harlem and really the film’s entire plot is pretty much ripped off from blaxploitation while the voodoo scenes all have this kind of campy, Hammer feel to them. Even the scenes in Louisiana are an homage to the southern car chase movies that were apparently big at the drive-ins back then.”
“That’s all good and well, Lisa, but how does that make Live and Let Die a horror film? And don’t say it’s because Felix Leiter is played by David Hedison, the star of the original Fly because–”
“Hold on,” I say, “this is the point where we show the trailer.”
“Okay, Lisa Marie,” you say, “now that you’ve indulged in your bizarre trailer fetish, explain just how exactly this is a horror film and don’t try doing that thing you always do where you link it to some weird-ass thing that happened to you like ten years ago.”
My nostrils flare as I begin, “Ten years ago, me and my family were taking a vacation in voodoo country…”
“Lisa Marie, did you not read the previous paragraph?”
“Oh, sorry.” I pause in order to get my thoughts straight in my head. “Well, first off, let’s start with the opening credits. Now, I’ll be honest here and admit that I’ve always kinda wanted to be one of those girls that are always dancing around naked during the opening credits of all the old school James Bond films–”
“That’s a shock.”
“–so I always end up paying attention to those opening credits. I mean, that’s my time to fantasize about being in a James Bond film. And I have to say, the opening credits of Live and Let Die — Agck! Seriously, everyone always spends so much time talking about how great the theme song is that they kinda miss just how freaky and nightmarish those opening credits are. I mean, seriously, when you’re at home alone and you’re watching this in a dark room, these opening credits are genuinely unsettling. Here, check them out.”
“Okay,” you say, “I can see how the credits might freak you out but that’s just like 2 minutes of a two hour film–”
“Oh my God, I’m so not even done yet!” I snap, “This film isn’t about James Bond fighting drug dealers. All of that stuff with Yaphet Kotto and the heroin and all that — it’s all just an excuse to get to what the film is truly about: James Bond vs. Baron Samedi, the man who can not die! As played by Geoffrey Holder, Baron Samedi’s only in a few scenes but he dominates the entire film. I mean, it’s actually kinda funny because every time Baron Samedi shows up, someone dies but the film comes to life.”
“In fact,” I continue, now pretty much talking to myself, “when Baron Samedi first appears in the film, he’s killing this poor, terrified man by holding a poisonous snake up to the man’s face and oh my God, that scene freaked me out when I first saw it! In fact, it’s the only scene from a James Bond film that’s ever given me a nightmare. Even Eva Green drowning in Casino Royale didn’t freak me out as much as that snake scene did and you know I’m a lot more scared of drowning than I am of snakes. Which is odd since I live in Texas and there’s a lot more snakes around here than large bodies of water…”
“Slow down and breathe, Lisa Marie,” you say, “you’re getting off topic.”
“Right, sorry. Anyway, it’s a scary scene precisely because Baron Samedi seems to be enjoying killing the man so much. Then again, it could also be the fact that Baron Samedi had the most evil laugh ever. Seriously, listen to it in the scene below.”
As you watch the scene, I continue to speak, my words tumbling one after another out of my mouth, “But the scariest Baron Samedi scene isn’t even on YouTube. Seriously, YouTube sucks. I hate YouTube. I mean, you can find a thousand videos of silly people doing that Wii workout game in their underwear but you can’t find the freakiest Baron Samedi scene ever. Seriously, forget about Occupying Wall Street. Let’s occupy freaking YouTube and demand–”
“Focus, Lisa.”
“Sorry. Anyway, the freakiest scene in Live and Let Die and I would dare say the freakiest scene of the entire James Bond series, comes towards the end of the film. Baron Samedi pops up out of this grave and James Bond like shoots him and blows off half his forehead, right? And Baron Samedi just stand there perfectly still and emotionless. Then, his eyes slowly roll upward and stare up at where his forehead used to be. So, Bond shoots him like three more times and Baron Samedi just collapses like a rag doll. And then, suddenly, Baron Samedi — forehead intact — pops out of another grave and does that evil laugh of his! Oh. My. God! It is so freaky! I was watching it and I was just like…AGCK!
“And that,” I conclude, “is why Live and Let Die is a horror film.”
However, now that I’m finished, you don’t reply. I look up and I see that you’re gone.
When I first read Arleigh’s idea that we devote October to reviewing horror films, I knew immediately that there was no way I could let the month pass without saying a few words about one of the true classics of the horror genre, the 1973 best picture nominee The Exorcist.
Based on an equally scary novel by William Peter Blatty and directed by William Friedkin, The Exorcist is one of those films that has become so iconic that even people who have never seen it know what the movie is about. Chris McNeil (Ellen Burstyn) is an agnostic actress who is shooting a film about student protestors on a college campus. Her 12 year-old daughter, Regan (played by the future Grindhouse queen Linda Blair), spends her time playing with a Ouija Board and talking to her friend “Capt. Howdy.” Unfortunately, Capt. Howdy is actually a Sumerian demon who proceeds to posses Regan. Soon, Regan is levitating, cursing, and masturbating with a crucifix. After trying (and failing with) all the conventional methods of treatment, Chris desperately turns to the God she doesn’t believe in and tries to convince a troubled priest (Jason Miller) to perform an exorcism on Regan. Unfortunately, this priest has begun to question his faith and he fears that he might not be strong enough to “cure” Regan. An elderly priest (Max Von Sydow) is called in to help with the exorcism and, faster than you can say, “The power of Christ compels you,” the two priests are locked in mortal combat for Regan’s soul.
The ultimate test of any horror films is whether or not it’s still unsettling even after you already know what’s going to happen and when all the evil is going to come jumping out of the shadows. In short, the test is whether or not the film holds up to repeat viewings. This is a test that The Exorcist easily passes. I’ve seen this film enough times that I now know exactly when Linda Blair’s head is going to do that 360 degree turn and I now know exactly when to divert my eyes so I don’t have to see possessed Regan puking on the priests. (For all the terrible physical manifestations of Regan’s possessions, it’s always the vomiting that gets to me.) Most of the film’s “shock” sequences aren’t that scary any more because we’ve all seen far worse. However, watching this film remains, for me, a truly unsettling experience. This is due largely to director William Friedkin. Today’s aspiring filmmakers could learn a lot from Friedkin because, for all the attention the film’s grotesque effects received, Friedkin actually devotes more time to setting up the situation and establishing a palpable atmosphere of doom. This is a film full of grainy, almost gray images, the perfect visual suggestion of a world that has perhaps been abandoned by its God. It takes more than an hour before Ellen Burstyn meets Jason Miller and Max Von Sydow doesn’t show up until the final 30 minutes of the film. At first, it seems as if the movie itself is moving slowly but, by the end of it, you realize that what Friedkin has done is that he’s sucked us into the reality of his film. For all the special effects and metaphysical concerns, The Exorcist almost feels like a documentary. He’s also helped by a talented cast that makes the situation feel real, regardless of how extreme things may get. I’ve read that a lot of people decided they needed to be exorcised after seeing this film and I can understand why.
The Exorcist is a film that benefits from debate and it’s also one that is open to multiple interpretations. Quite a few critics have argued that the Exorcist is actually a very reactionary film in that Regan’s possession can be seen as a metaphor for adolescent rebellion and her exorcism is actually more about the establishment regaining control than any attempt to save her eternal soul. I actually think this interpretation is pretty much spot on correct though I also don’t think the filmmakers were intentionally trying to deliver that message. Instead, I think that the Exorcist — like all great films — is simply filled with the subtext of its time. While the filmmakers may have unintentionally created a document of then-contemporary fears, I think the film is even more interesting as an argument about the origin of sin and evil.
Ultimately, for a horror film to be truly timeless, it has to do more than just scare you. The supernatural and/or otherworldly forces have to serve as more than just a cinematic threat; they have to stand-in for our own universal fears and concerns. The Exorcist attempts to answer one of the most basic questions: why is there evil in the world and why do people sometimes behave in such terrible ways? For all of the film’s notoriety, the answers it provides are surprisingly simple. Evil is because of the devil and people behave the way they do because they’re not individually strong enough to resist the lure of sin. The only way to defeat the world’s demons is through sacrifice, suffering, and martyrdom. You don’t have to come from a Catholic background to “get” the Exorcist but it helps. (To be honest, it probably helps even more to be a “fallen” Catholic like me because wow, this movie really knows how to exploit all that lingering guilt.) Thanks to this film, it sometimes seems the only time that priests (and Catholicism in general) are portrayed positively in the movies is when they’re exorcising someone (which, contrary to popular belief, doesn’t really happen all that much). Fortunately, you don’t have to agree with the answers provided by the Exorcist in order to find both the questions and the film itself to be intriguing.
Hi! Do you know what today is? That’s right, it’s October 24th! That means only one more week to go until Halloween. And what better way to observe this important date than with an old, low-budget B-movie that’s fallen into the public domain?
I first discovered The Brain That Wouldn’t Die through the Drive-In Mob on twitter. It first came out in 1962 and it’s 82 minutes of medical malpractice, bitchy disembodied heads, and a scary monster hiding in a closet. Well, not really that scary. However, the monster does rip-off of one guy’s arm. Luckily, the guy has another arm obviously tucked away underneath his lab coat.
As a sidenote, this is a low-budget film and you can tell just by looking at it. However, I kinda think that the harsh lighting and the stark sets add a little something to the film, the key word being little.
Anyway, if you’ve got 82 minutes to kill and a strong tolerance for bossy heads, check out The Brain That Wouldn’t Die…
Last night, I watched the “Lifetime world premiere” of the 2008 horror film, The Alphabet Killer.
Why Was I Watching It?
Because I was, okay? Don’t judge me!
Actually, I was watching for 2 reasons:
1) Being the kinda morbid girly girl that I am, my love of a good Lifetime movie is almost equalled by my love for reading about unsolved murders. A little while ago, I was going through my copy of Michael Newton’s Encyclopedia of Unsolved Crimes and I happened to come across the Alphabet Murders. In the early 70s, three young girls were murdered in New York. Each of the girls’ first and last names started with the same letter and each body was found in a town that started with the same letter as the girls’ name. Now, this kinda freaked me out because, if I ever decided to use my mom’s maiden name, then my name would be (Lisa) Marie Marchi. That, of course, would make me a potential victim — especially when you consider that the town of McKinney, Texas is within driving distance. I mean, seriously. File that under things that make you go “Agck!”
2) When I first saw the commercials for the Alphabet Killer (which was advertised as being a “Lifetime world premiere!” even though the film wasn’t originally made for the Lifetime network), I immediately assumed that it had to be one of those terrible Ulli Lommel true crime films. And I was all like, “Really? Ulli Lommel is now a member of the Lifetime family? This, I have to see!” Well, turns out that he’s not and, quite frankly, thank goodness for that. This Alphabet Killer was directed by the director of Wrong Turn, Rob Schmidt.
What’s It About
There’s a serial killer on the loose and fortunately, Detective Eliza Dushku is on the case. Less fortunately, Detective Dushku is already dealing with adult onset schizophrenia…
What Worked
The idea of a schizophrenic detective trying to catch a serial killer is a pretty clever one and director Rob Schmidt did a fairly good job making the audience wonder how much of what we’re watching is a real and how much is just the product of the detective’s psychosis. Eliza Dushku, who kicks ass in general because she was Faith the Vampire Slayer, gives an excellent performance. I had a hard time, at first, believing she was a cop but I did believe her as a schizophrenic and yes, that is meant as a compliment.
As well, the entire cast did a pretty good job, particularly Cary Elwes and Timothy Hutton. Both of them brought some interesting layers of complexity to thinly written characters.
The scenes where the dead would literally confront Eliza Dushku were well done, even though I’ve seen the same scene in countless other horror films.
While I was watching the Alphabet Killer, I had the house to myself because my sister Erin had gone into Arlington for the Rangers game. When I was about halfway through the film (I was watching it off of my DVR), Dallas got hit with the storm of the century. Seriously. It started raining around one in the morning and at 1:10, the power went off. The TV (and the movie) flicked off with a sharp THRACK and the entire house was plunged into darkness. My bedroom was suddenly pitch black and I found myself feeling very vulnerable lying in bed in only my beloved Pirates t-shirt and panties. All I could hear was the sound of rain and hail pounding against the house while somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. After the first flash of lightning briefly illuminated my shadowy bedroom, I started to count. I had barely started to form the word, “Two…” when a deafening explosion of thunder caused not only the house to shake but me to have to catch my breath. Suddenly, I heard a wailing meow and another flash of lightning briefly revealed my cat Doc sitting in my doorway. Stumbling through the darkness, I managed to get Doc and carry him back to my bed with me. I sat there with him, fully knowing that even though I was trying to protect him, he probably thought he was protecting me. (Or, more likely seeing as how he’s a cat, claiming me as his territory.) Suddenly, a terrible thought entered my mind: “Did I remember to lock the front door? Or the back door?” Was I hearing the wind and rain pounding against my house or was I hearing the Alphabet Killer stumbling around downstairs? Finally, after half an hour of this, the lights finally came back on and I could breathe again. I slowly made my way downstairs (Doc, of course, stayed up in my room and went to sleep) and discovered that I had indeed locked all the doors before the storm. So yay me!
Now that I was fully freaked out, I went ahead and watched the rest of the Alphabet Killer. I’m not sure if it was the movie that kept my uneasy or if it was the storm. All I know is that it worked. (The rain, by the way, mysteriously ended as soon as the movie did.)
What Didn’t Work
This is another one of those films where the idea behind it is actually more clever than the way that the idea is actually executed. Once you get passed the idea that Dushku is schizophrenic, you realize that the film itself is actually pretty predictable. If you can identify the killer from the minute he first appears on screen, then you might not be that smart. Just saying.
Needless to say, The Alphabet Killer has next to nothing to do with the actual case. Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal because that’s the grindhouse way, right? But in this case, the truth is so interesting that it’s a shame that it was pretty much just shoved over to the side. If there isn’t one already, somebody needs to do one of those hour-long, basic cable documentaries about the Alphabet murders. And Bill Kurtis needs to host it.
“OMG! Just Like Me!” Moments
Honestly, if I was tracking a serial killer, I’d probably do it in much the same way as Eliza Dushku does in this film. By that, I mean I’d probably be way too obsessive for my own good and I’d eventually end up strapped to a table somewhere. Seriously, I just don’t think I’m meant to hunt serial killers.
Lessons Learned
It’s good to be a Bowman and sometimes, storms can actually be scary.
Kevin Smith’s 2011 film was a major departure for him. It wasn’t the usual comedy (his last one being the very awful buddy-cop comedy, Cop Out) but instead his first foray into one of film’s earliest film genre: the horror film. Say what you want or feel about Kevin Smith (and there’s a huge range of people who either love the man or hate him like the second coming of the Antichrist) but when he decides to make a film he puts everything of himself on display and he wears his emotions on his sleeves when it comes to his films. It’s this aspect of Smith’s personality which has gained him such a loyal following, but has also earned him the scorn and, for some, hate of film bloggers who now constitute the bulk of film criticism in the digital age. This first horror film for Kevin Smith would be called Red State and it would be a film that would continue to expand the gulf between those who hate him and those who support him. Lost in this playground-like tiff was whether the film would be a return to form for Smith or just a continuation of some very bad films in the last half-decade.
Red State could almost be called a coming-of-age story since the film begins with three high school boys joining together to travel to a neighboring town where they hope to engage in some sexual extracurricular activities. It’s also in this very town that we learn very early on in the film that the Five Points Church calls home. This church and it’s congregation has one Pastor Abin Cooper (Michael Parks) as it’s leader with it’s membership either related by blood to Cooper or by way of marriage. In this picture would arrive an ATF task force led by Special Agent Keenan (John Goodman) to investigate the illegal doings of Cooper and his flock. It’s between these two groups that the three teenage boys would find themselves in a horrific situation with their lives in the balance.
Let’s just say that this film had much potential in it’s plot and how it’s initially set-up. The character of Pastor Abin Cooper and his flock was definitely patterned after the Westboro Baptist Church led by Fred Phelps who’re infamous for picketing funerals of soldiers and for being outright homophobic in their teachings and ideology. The ATF group with Keenan in command looks to be set-up to represent the Federal government and it’s police agencies run amok in their attempt to fight terrorism since Sept. 11, 2001. Then Smith drops in three horny teenage boys in the mix and it sure must’ve read like a surefire story with horror and action.
What we get instead was a film which didn’t seem to know how to proceed with the initial set-up. The film began and played out like something similar to Hostel and films of a similar vein. Unsuspecting teens lured by sex to be made an example of by a group of people extreme in their passions and ideas. If the film had continued with just those two groups as the core of the film’s story then it could’ve made for a decent survival horror film, but the addition of the ATF task force and how they impacted the dynamics between the congregation and the teens unbalanced everything. Now what was suppose to be a horror film turned into an action-drama.
The performances by the cast was also inconsistent. This could be due to the weakness of the screenplay which tried too hard to push Cooper and his people as batshit crazy through overly long sermons. Sermons by Abin Cooper that was delivered by Michael Parks in convincing fashion at times and then mumbled incoherently at others. The three teens were also a problem in that they weren’t sympathetic by any means. Even knowing what awaited them didn’t lessen the fact that these three teens were obnoxious and vulgar to the point that we didn’t care if Cooper and his people tortured and killed them.
One would expect that the addition of John Goodman as the ATF special agent and Kevin Pollak as his assistant would at least bring some serious acting chops to the proceedings, but their characters were so thinly-written and their dialogue so forced that one couldn’t believe them as real characters. It’s a shame that the film’s overall screenplay couldn’t provide the necessary foundation for a cast that had a very good veteran ensemble which included Melissa Leo, James Parks and Stephen Root.
Red State really failed in the very thing that was suppose to make this film the beginning of a shift in Kevin Smith’s career. It failed as a horror film in the most general sense. There was never any true feeling of horror to be had throughout the film. Even the first death of an unnamed homosexual kidnapped by the congregation to be used as an example during one of Cooper’s sermons failed to elicit any form of horror. This was a film which had much potential for some horrific sequences but it never explored it. The film doesn’t even work as a thriller which would be the closest this film ever got to be. Even the ending of the film which tried to inject a semblance of the supernatural didn’t even work as it turned out to be a major bait-and-switch that didn’t come off as creative once it was explained.
Does the film justify some of the venom hurled at it from Kevin Smith’s detractors?
I would say no in that the film wasn’t the worst thing he has made by a long shot. It did have some moments that hinted at something special could’ve been made if someone else was involved or if the film had more time to be worked on. I do believe that if Red State was made by anyone else other than Kevin Smith it would be considered average to good. But having such a polarizing figure as it’s creator and marketer might have blinded some in actually watching this film with an open-mind.
Does this mean Red State was actually a good film?
I would say no with the reasoning I’ve mentioned above. But I will say that the film wasn’t dull or boring. As unnecessary as the ATF task force to the story as a whole their arrival and the subsequent reaction of the congregation to them made for some exciting few minutes. Even Michael Park’s performance was quite good despite some of his line deliveries coming off as incoherent mumblings.
If Red State was to be Kevin Smith’s attempt to try and move away from his history of making comedies then it was a failed one. While it was a failure I wouldn’t mind him going back to the genre to hone his skills in doing more horror. If Uwe Boll could continue making even worst materials then surely Smith could be given another chance to make another and fix the very things which he did wrong with Red State with another horror film project. One thing for sure he would not be lacking in actors wanting to work with him.
Apparently, the Rapture was scheduled for yesterday and I missed it. Now, I suppose there are a lot of reasons as to why I might have been left behind but quite frankly, I blame my first boyfriend. Seriously, thanks for condemning me to three and a half years of tribulation, jerk! Anyway, as long as we’re all stuck together, why not enjoy six more of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation trailers? Since it’s still October, I’m continuing my horror theme with this entry. Plus, considering what the future holds for us, we should probably start getting used to a little horror…
Agck! I just recently saw this movie and that little raft scene totally freaked me out! I would never get on a raft to begin with because it worries me that I might end up with some raftmate who keeps going, “Row! Row! Row!” On another note, what’s up with those people who are always like, “Go! Go! Go!” in action scenes? I’m just like, “Okay, fascist much?” I mean, if you want to be all Mad Men-like, go watch AMC.
Three quick notes: 1) Watch carefully and you’ll see George Clooney pop up for about five seconds in this trailer, 2) if you don’t want people like getting killed at your school, don’t name it Horror, and 3) I made my sister watch this trailer and she assures me that a literal skeleton would never be allowed to become a cheerleader.
I assume this is where you go if you survive Horror High. Usually I try to be kinda coy and funny about these things but this time I’m just going to flat-out say it: Based on this, this film appears to truly suck. But I can’t resist a trailer that features melodramatic narration….
Okay, this movie also looks terrible but check out the so-bad-its-going-t0-make-you-kill-someone musical score. Again, I’d just like to point out that if this high school had simply been named after a dead president, a lot of needless death could have been avoided. But no, they had to go with Slaughter High.
As if I needed further proof to make my case, check out this trailer for Hell High. I own this movie on DVD and I have to admit that I bought it solely because of the name.
After those last few trailers, you may be ready for a trailer of a film that’s actually kinda sorta good. So, here’s one for David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, which is one of the weirdest films I’ve ever seen, what with all that “new flesh” talk and James Woods’ body doing weird things…agck!
