Worth a Binge

Few things make me happier than seeing the juggernaut that is a small studio horror film actually be good. There's something so refreshing about a company like Platinum Dunes (that same name that induces shudders of the Friday the 13th remake) produce something that's as original as it is effective. 

Although perhaps the title leaves something to be desired.

Quick Plot: The year is 2022, and America is enjoying a prosperous economy where only 1% of the population is unemployed. Though we don't quite know the details of how this new utopia came to be, we do learn that it's managed to be maintained by the annual Purge, a 12-hour evening wherein all acts of violence and vandalism are perfectly legal. Such an opportunity provides the otherwise well-behaved civilians with the vital release of all those pesky pent-up emotions, be they hatred for the lazy homeless or anger at your girlfriend's dad not accepting of your relationship.

This is the start of the problem for the Sandins, a wealthy white family living in the largest house on an uppity block. Dad James (Ethan Hawke) is an ace salesman peddling high-tech security systems that protect fellow 1%ers during the titular purge, while mom Mary (Lena Lannist--er, Headey) uncomfortably avoids geek son Charlie's questions about, you know, if it's REALLY okay to kill people one night a year. Rounding out the family is slutty daughter Zoey, a school uniform-clad teen who would rather be necking with her boyfriend.

Despite being happily perched atop the economic pyramid, the Sandins generally sit back during The Purge. While Dad is happy to benefit from its financial demands, Mom is clearly not aligned with its politics, even if she doesn't have to think too hard about it. The kids have grown up in a world where this is commonplace, lending the entire event a promising sense of moral questionability.

Upon this Purge, as you might guess based on the fact that the movie is called The Purge and categorized in the horror section, something goes wrong. Zoey's bad news boyfriend sneaks into the fortified mansion to get some dangerous alone time with disapproving dad, leaving Charlie manning the secure gates when a black homeless man is spotted outside, begging for help from the certain death he's about to receive from a band of Purgers. Understandably, the good-hearted Charlie lets the stranger inside, giving way to a hellish night filled with wealthy mask-clad murderers, overly helpful neighbors, and a whole lot of arguments involving duty vs. survival.

Written and directed by James DeMonaco, The Purge made quite a mainstream splash in its theatrical run. The horror community, it seemed, had come to a general consensus that I was aware of going in: this was a brilliant premise that didn't quite deliver.

Yes and no.

The setup for The Purge IS brilliant. Like a more apocalyptic take on Shirley Jackson's The Lottery, The Purge presents a positively fascinating, rich starting point for all sorts of horror to unfold. Imagine a utopian society that maintained its order for a simple price, that price being a mere 12 hours every year where all laws were suspended, where violence was encouraged, and no crime--be it rape or murder--was considered wrong. 

Though class isn't supposed to come into play, the very fact that the wealthy can afford to barricade themselves into modern fortresses while the less fortunate are subject to easy break-ins gives way to economic politics. There's a quick line that tells us that government officials of a certain rank are not to be harmed during The Purge, and surely, there's more of a story there. There's probably a whole novel that could be written about how the homeless community deals with the event, not to mention the mysterious history of what brought American society to this point in the first place.

My point is that The Purge is a great idea that deserves A LOT of further exploration and thankfully, its box office success seems to have guaranteed that. Perhaps a lot of early reviewers were disappointed with the film narrowing its focus to one family, but now knowing that we'll get more Purges, I'm happy to say that such a decision on DeMonaco's part was the right one.

The Sandins are not a perfectly drawn family. Daughter Zoey takes a while to tolerate, and even the grand Cersei Lannister can only do so much in hinting at the further depth of a token wife character. But in a fairly quick introduction to Dad's career and Charlie's thoughtfulness, we know enough about these people to care about how the events of this one evening will affect them as individuals and a unit. Perhaps the villains are a tad too Funny Games-lite, but their basic motivation--being 'haves' who feel entitled to hurt the 'have nots'--is clear and believable. Sure, a line like "Things like this are not supposed to happen in our neighborhood" is a little too on the nose, but I'll take overdone subtext to mindless bloodshed any day (think Saw VI to Captivity, for example).

High Points

As mentioned by pretty much anyone who mentioned The Purge, it really does start with a rich and potent concept

Low Points

For having such a brisk running pace, The Purge does waste some of its time early on with repetition in stalking through the dark house

Lessons Learned

Toy Story-esque robot baby-head creations can be useful in a home invasion, but equipping one with a two-way radio should definitely be included in the next prototype

I understand that in the midst of a blackout and home invasion, it’s tough to maintain order, but by the third “let’s split up and find the kids” interim, take a moment to put a bell on your spacey daughter already

Next year, rather than investing your Purge stock in security systems, consider investigating the creepy mask numbers instead

Rent/Bury/Buy

As you can see, I was extremely pleased with The Purge and am genuinely looking forward to seeing how the sequel pans out. There’s still plenty of potential in the material, and with DeMonaco still in the writer/director’s chair, such an idea is promising. 

Dream Warriors In Combat

The older I get, the clearer it becomes that I am a proud member of numerous minorities, mainly, those that defend movies generally panned by the evil majorities. But believe it or not, I’m not here today to talk about the Saw franchise. Instead, I fight the good battle with a man I respect intensely, yet differ with on a little remake known as A Nightmare On Elm Street.

Many of you know Cortez the Killer (of what is still unclear) from his spectacular blog, Planet of Terror. It gets a recommend of the highest Doll’s House caliber, Barbie pricing with Cabbage Patch Kid lovability. And yet, he despised Platinum Dune‘s April release with the kind of venom I reserve for something so offensive as the It’s Alive remake. 

Like the overly wordy writers we are, Cortez and I decided to engage in bloggal warfare, which consists of some classy and respectful dueling that brings up such biting issues as Samuel Bayer’s visual style, Rooney Mara’s art skills, the scare-ability of the vertically challenged, and Major League Baseball. Spoilers abound, as was necessary for the integrity of film criticism. I give you in full our debate. 

Cortez: OK....Round 1: FIGHT!

I'm pretty open to remakes. At first I'd grown tired but then realized that it’s going to happen regardless of how I feel. There is a natural fan base there and people are suckers for familiarity. So now that every time one comes along, I don't immediately spring to my soapbox. I try to take the film for what it is, see what it does to expound upon the original while at the same time, being its own beast. I've been surprised over the last couple of years with remakes like Last House on The Left and The Crazies. Films that are just as good if not far more superior to the original.

From the onset, the new A Nightmare on Elm St. lacks any sort of heart or genuine building of tension. Whereas the original paid mind to this all important element in horror, the new ANOES eschews all of that in favor of one too many repetitive jump scares. After about the second one, everything became utterly predictable all the way up until the completely boring and lackluster finale between Freddy, Nancy, and Joy Division emo boy.

Anyway...

Ka-Pow!

Emily the Emily:

Are there too many jump scares? Sure, but in fairness, there are less ‘gotcha!’ moments than scenes that ended with a random character firing a gun with perfect aim at a bad guy just in time to save a hero in The Crazies!

Perhaps that was a low blow, but maybe it’s also my intro of saying the Nightmare remake is not a great film. And you know what? Neither was its source material.

Johnny Depp has since gone on to easily be one of the most interesting actors of his generation, but as Glenn, he’s just sort of...there. We remember him for an awesome death and dreadful sense of fashion. Kyle Gallner’s Quentin feels, plain and simple, like a nice guy in high school, a boy with a crush on the weird quiet girl with really poor art skills. I wasn’t sold on Rooney Mara--she was just a tad too whiny for my taste--but overall, I'd say she's equal in sympathy to Heather Lagenkamp, with bad hair that's flat as opposed to frizzy.

In regards to your comment that this film has no scare-base, I disagree. Yes, the original worked by drilling into our fear of vulnerable dreams, but this one did something different: it gave Freddy a sadistic master plan. They mystery of how he fit into these kids lives--and if he actually fit in (ew, molesting pun!) the way their parents thought--is what drives this version. As a pedophile, Freddy Krueger is a genuine monster, a wormy criminal with both a grudge and horrifying sexual appetite. The thought that Nancy will spend an extended time in his nightmare playground-via-coma is a terrifying possibility that feels genuinely wrong and scary.

Cortez:

Keeeeeeeeawwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!

The overabundance of jump scares lead me to believe that a) the director had no faith in his ability to create genuine tension and atmosphere and that b) the studio perpetuated the constant lack of faith in keeping the attention of the modern day movie goer, AKA  the ADD, need action all the time, movie going masses. I thought it was both insulting and presumptuous. Doesn't anyone know how to make an atmospherically driven film anymore? Furthermore, the dream sequences were completely bland. Say what you want about the craptastic sequels, the ANOES franchise had some of the most fun and imaginative. Bayer was a music video director before and it clearly shows. I thought I was watching a Nine Inch Nails video half the time.

I agree with you to some extent regarding the thin characterizations of the original. But you could tell from the interactions that they were all friends. The opening scene where Glen pranks his mom using the tape recorder seemed like a natural thing to do. How many times growing up did you have sleep overs and do silly things as a kid? NONE of the kids in the remake felt like they were friends despite the fact that they all grew up together. Kyle's character was even more paper thin, incapable of expressing even the most basic human of emotions. Did you at any time feel like ANY of those kids were genuinely scared or terrified? I felt like they just walked around in a haze, a brooding, self-loathing haze. And I joked about this earlier but its true. A sensitive and nice guy does not a Joy Division t-shirt make. I felt like the director walked into a Hot Topic or listened to a Fall Out Boy record and said, 'I know what I'll do. I'll make the kid put on a Joy Division t-shirt and that will make him the quiet, awkward type. Nancy will listen to her iPod in her room, make the most retarded paintings ever, and that will signal that she's an outcast and social misfit.' Completely insulting.  And how do these kids NOT remember what happened to them when they were younger? I could accept the idea of repressed memories but not at one point during the film is it even mentioned.

In concept, the idea of Freddy having a sick sadistic plan and being outed as a child molester was supposed to have this shocking effect. But for me, the original's straddling of this concept (it never came out and said flat out that he was one) left a whole lot to the imagination. You could accept it at face value as him being a killer or to those that would want to sickly imagine something more, the child molester aspect was certainly not a stretch. I felt like this film pounded and drove the idea home, constantly. Again, insulting and completely assuming that as a movie goer you won't 'get it' so let's really drive the idea home with a prolonged flashback sequence and a prolonged dialogue on the subject. OK, GET ON WITH IT. I get it. This trend of humanizing the monster in recent remakes only serves to dumb down the character, detracting from the genuine fear created by the simple fact that 'it' exists.

And good god the makeup was terrible. Freddy looked like a fried hamster.

Emily:

Overabundance of jump scares? Eh, a few at the start to put a teenage ticketbuyers on edge. As a hardened horror fanatic, I’m rather immune to that particular gimmick, but I can appreciate that there is indeed an audience for it. 

In regards to the dream sequences, you’re right: the sequels were imaginative. The original? Not so much. Boiler room. School. Boiler room. Backyard. House. Freddy didn’t really get creative until Part 3, after his flirtation with Part 2’s gym teacher and dunk in the pool party. Wes Craven, though a director of great ideas, is hardly a visual master, and there’s not much in Part 1 to argue otherwise.

The relationships in the remake weren’t defined the same as the original, and hey...it’s not the original. I liked that Not Glen had a clear crush on the quiet weird girl, although I would’ve liked Nancy to have a stronger friendship with Not Tina. On one hand, the plot kind of demanded that these kids NOT be too close, as otherwise, they may have already discovered their prior relationship. Forced characterization, yes, and these are also the most forgetful 5-year olds ever, but it didn’t bother me quite as much. I cared about the Not Glen/Nancy relationship and was genuinely charmed by their flirting while trying to simply stay awake and alive. 

People give Kyle Gallner a hard time, probably in part due to his puffed out resemblance to Robert Pattinson. Is he Captain Sparrow in the making? Most likely not, but I cared about his character and felt that he was simply a nice kid. I don’t think the Joy Division t-shirt was forced to establish character--as a modern music special needs student, I actually don’t know who they are, but I assume they’re delightful and full of cheer--but more just a simple touch to make him look modern. What did Depp’s Glen have going on? He listened to his walkman and got eaten by a bed. Most importantly, he never seemed frightened in the least (strange, since at times, he’s only wearing a half a shirt and should thusly be more vulnerable). While I did have problems with Rooney Mara’s Nancy, I definitely bought Gallner’s fear.

The back story, to me, was what made this film work. I understand that a lot of filmgoers hate the fleshed-out villain trend of recent years, but to me, it’s one more way of expanding the series canon. Also, it’s nothing new! (See Parts 3-5 on the “Son of a 100 maniacs” thread or the flashback daddy angle in Part 6.) I consider it something akin to fan fiction, where viewers aren’t required to accept a new story as fact that defines the rest of the films. It’s simply an alternate look at an enigmatic character.

And fried hamster-face, eh? I saw more of what happens to pizza if it’s accidentally been nuked for over two minutes.

Cortez: Don't get me wrong, a well timed and executed jump scare still has a tendency to soil my knickers. I just felt like this film relied TOO heavily on the carnival haunted house schtick.

I'll give you the relative uninventiveness in the set pieces in the original. And I actually did like the alternating dream/real-world scene in the pharmacy with the new one.  But overall, the scenes felt way too polished and extremely well lit, like everything was happening out in the open. Nothing felt like it lead up to anything, no driving atmosphere. The pacing in the series, or any good horror film for that matter, is methodical and deliberate. It’s like the filmmakers had no idea how to make a suspenseful film. And as you say, there were times that they never seemed frightened in the least and that’s ultimately what really killed it for me, slim characterizations notwithstanding.

I'm going to have to agree to disagree with you on the characters. I simply don't think there was enough there to make anyone care about any of these brooding, supposedly social outsider kids. They were monotonally challenged and so one dimensional.

I understand the backstory thing. Some people love it I just don't particularly care for it. As stated, the more you humanize the monster (and the film practically beats the child rapist angle over your head like we can't figure it out for ourselves), the more you detract from the mystique and genuine fear that it invokes. And it didn't help that Jackie Earle is incredibly short and stood shoulder to shoulder with Gallner. For chrissakes, couldn't someone have sprung from some stripper heels or something to make him taller?

Emily: I'll concede that Nancy doesn't necessarily seem frightened, and I think that was misdirection in trying to just make her seem really tired. It doesn't work. I stand behind Gallner, however; his sad puppy eyes do register fear and distrust far more than half-shirt Johnny Depp's did.

Onto more pressing and controversial matters...

As a woman who stretches on her toes every day to be 5'2, I take offense at the suggestion that short people can't be scary. Quite frankly, all the times I've ever met someone that made me uncomfortable (whether at work, school, or on the subway) he has usually stood under 5'7. You, good sir, have revealed your true nature as a smug heightist. Robert Carlyle will kick you in the groin and bite your ankles with ferocity you can't imagine. Be afraid. The man has Scottish leprechaun rabies. 

Cortez: I myself am vertically challenged and about 4 inches away from being considered midget material. But when's the last time a pint sized terror ruled the screen? The Leprechaun? The siamese twin claymation creation from Basket Case? The mutant spawn in the It's Alive series?

The problem is that the NOES series set a precedent. Before it devolved into camp, Freddy was menacing and yes, his stature had a lot to do with it. Not saying that he was as ominous as Shaq or Tyler Mane, but he did have a presence. Every time I saw Jackie Earle I just felt like he needed a good shove to topple over or kick to the shin to seriously incapacitate him. Any film remake has big shoes to fill, why handicap it from the get-go? Give him some goddamn platform shoes or something for christ's sake.

Overall, this film was uninspired, listless and devoid of any true tension or drama. If this little slice of 'fun' helps you get you through another terrible Mets season, then by all means, knock yourself out. Oh snap! ;)

Any closing arguments?

Emily: "But when's the last time a pint sized terror ruled the screen?"

Apparently someone isn't familiar with a little greatest horror franchise of all time known as Child's Play. Moving on:

My only closing argument is to note that you know you've lost a debate when you have to resort to punching an already short woman below the belt (stretch before bending dear) with an insult about the modern tragedy that is the New York Mets. Look, I'm sorry if my major league baseball team happens to have once hit a foul ball into the stained glass window of a very vengeful gypsy that has since been placing a mischievous curse over their professional output. We deal with it with the same strength little whiny Nancy summons in order to get over being sexually abused and hunted by a ghostly short man.

Bam. Case closed.

Oy Vey

I would like, if I may, take you on a strange journey.

HOW STRANGE? you shout with your water pistols aimed.

Strange enough that back when George Bush was still in office, I watched the trailer for The Unborn in a crowded Friday night movie theater and said to my ticket buddy, “Am I crazy, or does that look kind of good?”

Ahhhh, the folly of youth! I knew then that what I was seeing in a 2 minute, heavily edited preview was by far the best moments this Platinum Dunes film had to offer. Still, I was mildly intrigued to the point that a year and library card swipe later, The Unborn somehow ended up in my DVD player. 


I suppose we've learned that sometimes, the library is not necessarily our friend.

Quick Plot: Meet Casey (Odette Yustman), a rich young college student who should really eat more. Such a chore is difficult, however, when upon cracking some cholesterol-loaded eggs, strange thorax-heavy potato bugs spring free. 

Couple this with an earlier dream involving a mask-wearing dog, buried bottled fetus, and blue-eyed child dressed in Holocaust duds and you’ve got a fragile woman in typical stalked-by-dybbuks mode.

Turns out, Casey was formerly a twin who unceremoniously strangled her brother in the womb with her umbilical cord. Badass, right? Not really, since all Yustman can do throughout the film is look sad and/or cute in underwear. You would think a character with a parents played by the utterly awesome James Remar and Carla Gugino would at least have some spark of personality, but that’s asking an awful lot from a movie too busy drenching itself in blue, musical cues carefully timed for jump scares (and thusly negating said jump scare), and lazily researched Jewish mythology.

See, Casey is being haunted/stalked by a dybbuk, an evil entity described in Hebrew lore as a wandering soul that attaches itself to humans. For Casey, this in an inherited problem akin to baldness, something grandmother and mother faced with varying results (Grandma kicked its ass in a concentration camp; Mama hung herself in failure).  The side effects are varied: yes, it seems to be driving those around her insane and homicidal (poor babysitting charge and sassy friend that hates old people) but it also means that Casey gets to sport snappy blue contacts and use an oversized bathroom at a busy club all by herself! When does that ever happen?!

The bathroom scene is important to note because it pretty much encompasses the limitations of The Unborn in 3 minutes. As Casey embraces a sparkling stainless steel toilet to vomit away (hmmmm...I wonder what THAT can mean), an icky mixture of brown fluid and insects starts to take over the ladies room. The lighting goes all strobe, the music gets intense, and poor pretty Casey screams. For a brief moment, it’s actually effective and then we realize--well before it happens--that the scene is bound to end with her bland boyfriend opening the door to the lights back on, floors cleaner than Joan Crawford’s tile, and Casey crunched in the corner wondering where all the CGI went. 

And that’s The Unborn in a nutshell, a film with some intriguing imagery and ambitious story ideas squished into a modern formula of J-horror makeovers with watered down American soda. I didn’t mention Gary Oldman, who enters late in the tale to exhaustively play a rabbi with a lot of free time on his hands. I should give a quick shout-out to Stringer Bell (yes I know his name is Idris Elba and no, I will still never refer to him, nor any actor formerly of The Wire, as anything but their Baltimore name) playing a kind, if irresponsible priest. I was happy to see C.S. Lee (Remar’s Dexter costar) as an optometrist. I like that the dybbuk’s name “Jumby” summoned all sorts of imagination in me picturing Pee-Wee’s pal Jambi trying to reborn in Yustman’s womb. That made me happy enough.

Yup. That’s about it.

High Points

Thought it doesn’t give us any context and therefore ultimately falls flat, the opening dream sequence is rather promising in its use of surreal imagery

Low Points

Yes, men and women of particular persuasions will find something to admire in Yustman’s model look, but the rest of us search fruitlessly for any iota of reason to actually care about what happens to her. It’s not so much the acting as it is the fact that the character has no defining characteristics to make her likable or existent

Lessons Learned

Stroke victims are surprisingly spry when possessed by Jewish demons

Windchimes chiming are a sign that a dubbuk is near. They're also a sign that it’s windy

While this has nothing to do with any plot point and ultimately has no consequence, I still think it’s a bad idea to go to sleep with your expensive Mac book at the foot of your bed

The best way to unite all faiths and end religious war is to hold an exorcism

Rent/Bury/Buy

Eh. As hard as I’m being on The Unborn, it was at least a mildly original entry into the “The U-” craze of horror earlier this year. There are some vaguely interesting visuals at work, but this is still a rather dull barely-there footprint in theatrical American horror. Catch it on cable or with a few good drinks. In the right altered state, I can see the sight of one of this era’s best actor wearing a yarmulke and blowing into a sparkly Vegas-style religious didgeridoo being a much better time.

Friday the 13th, the Twelfth

The Best Drinking Game For Staying Sober:


Directions: Buy a bootleg DVD of Platinum Dunes latest foray into raping your childhood and impregnating it with false memories that alter past films into pieces of art. Next, crack open the first type of beer you ever drank while watching a decent horror film. What, it’s only 9 in the morning, you say? Don’t worry. This is one game that will keep you singing the alphabet backwards with only a few mistakes. In other words, you will probably pass a sobriety test with flying colors.


Turn movie on. Ready? Here comes the hard part:


Take a sip whenever...


The lighting is bright enough to show you anything at night

You can see Jason in full view for longer than two seconds of screen time


A female blonde is fully clothed


You say to yourself, “this will be awesome!” (i.e., because there’s a rusty and ready wood chipper an inch from a character’s head) and it actually is


A character you like dies

A character you like lives


A character you like exists onscreen

There is the slightest acknowledgement that the setting is a summer camp


Anything about Jason’s sudden urge to kill after 29 years of laying low, installing flood lights, and practicing archery is explained

I don’t know about you, but I’m incredibly thirsty.


As I’ve said before, I wasn’t expecting a franchise that has previously churned out imitation I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter quality installments to be brilliant, but how hard was it to construct a mildly interesting, perhaps even slightly scary film? Too hard, okay. How about a cheeky horror romp that pays some form of homage to the eleven films that came before? No? Here’s an idea: just give me one death scene that I’ll remember two hours later. Fine. I’ll make it easy: release a remake of higher quality than the disgrace that was 2006’s The Hitcher. Seriously, EVEN THAT wasn’t possible?

Did I just say what I think I said? Did I call The Hitcher 2006 a better movie than something else made by human beings? With hands? And presumably at least a few brain cells? Remind me to pack an extra sweater on my way to hell.


I wouldn’t be so offended by the mediocrity of F13.12 if it hadn’t made $42 million and counting this weekend. Yay, horror fans actually paid for something! Well I hope we enjoyed it because we can probably now expect another 11 sequels over the next decade. Hey, there are two more 13ths in 2009 that land on Friday, so perhaps Michael Bay will go kidnap a few more CW refugees to get the right timing. It’s not like he needs to wait for a script or anything. Say what you will about the Saw series: I’ll take Tobin Bell’s hoarse whisper and the writers’ mild dedication towards providing plot and character intricacies over badly lit death scenes of obnoxiously bland catalogue models any day.

If you’ll excuse me, I need to go have a drink and formulate a plan to destroy Platinum Dunes before Jared Padalecki signs on to play Freddy Krueger and the script is rewritten so he doesn’t hunt in dreams, but just starts hanging out in the dressing room of Victoria’s Secret until his bloodless defeat by Paul Blart, Mall Cop. Crap. Did I just give Michael Bay a bad yet inexplicably lucrative pitch?