A Simple Good Film

You know what doesn't suck? 

Obviously.

You know what else doesn't suck? Things That Don't Suck, a fine film and book blog run by Bryce Wilson. This week, the mighty Bryce is putting together Raimifest, a cabin in the woods style party in blogathon form. Head on over for seven full days of grooviness, but first, here's my simple contribution:

A Simple Plan might be the saddest film I’ve seen in a long time.

I was not expecting as such. I knew it was Sam Raimi. I knew it was well-respected as a  tight story told with great winter atmosphere. I knew it starred my future husband Bill Paxton (when he’s old and wrinkly and blind I think I can successfully marry him without him even knowing it, and yes, I’ve thought this through thoroughly) and that Billy Bob Thorton was on the box cover. Once the credits rolled, I realized I’d get to hear a Danny Elfman score in a non-Tim Burton movie (and much like the Helena Bonham Carter Quandry, I figured that would probably produce better results) and have the excitement to look forward to a Gary Cole appearance.

I didn’t think this movie would break my heart.

Quick Plot: A New Year’s trip to their mother’s grave proves life-changing for Hank (the always dreamy Bill Paxton) and Jacob (Billy Bob Thornton), two very different brothers who, along with Jacob’s town drunk pal Lou, discover a crashed plane and a mysterious bag filled with 4.4 million dollars in unmarked hundred dollar bills. After much tense discussion, the trio decides to split the cash once news of the crash comes and goes.

Much like that brilliant episode of The Simpsons, the men learn over the course of the film that dividing anything three ways--be it a Radioactive Man Edition 1 or fortune--is a surefire path towards disaster. The effects are a little more lasting here.

The story of A Simple Plan is written by Scott Smith, the same smartly horrific mind behind The Ruins. In a lot of ways, it’s none too complex but what Smith and Raimi do so well is create the perfect characters who would end up in a progressively more doomed situation with every decision they make post-money tease. Hank is presented as the brains of the three, the college grad with a lovely and expecting wife (Bridget Fonda), a real job, and the sense to plot their success. Sure, we can guess by the very nature of the film that it’s Hank who will have the biggest fall, but to watch his morals die with every choice he makes is absolutely fascinating, particularly when coupled with the subtle Lady Macbeth-ness of a partner who just wants what she could potentially have.

On the other side is Jacob, played by a then-lesser known Thornton as a walking tragedy. He’s a sad, seemingly not smart man with little ambition or hope for, well, anything in life. There are probably some great lessons in screenwriting somewhere in the film in how Hank and Jacob are portrayed. Without too much specific expository conversations, we get the full family portrait of these men as brothers, a lifetime of latent resentment on Jacob‘s part in response to Hank’s seemingly foreign superiority. Even those who simply despise Thorton and his fear of antique furniture will probably soften during his big revelatory scene, a truly uncomfortable car talk where he recounts the truth behind his only real romance. 

So yes, the characterization inside A Simple Plan is top notch. Pair that with a tight story that snowballs into horrors and you have a fairly incredible slice of winter horror.

High Points

From the very first scene, we get the precise dynamics of Hank, Jacob, and Lou, something that always feels believable and provides an instant understanding for us of who these men are and how they fit together

No spoilers here, but the final shots and ultimate finale are quite brilliant in a sort of ironic twisty way you often get in great short stories

Low Points
Um...

Lessons Learned

In addition to producing vitamins and soreness, breastfeeding might provide you with a brand new sense of Shakespearean villainy

Always ask to see a badge

Rent/Bury/Buy

Because I’m someone that gets easily confused, I often mixed up A Simple Plan with the Coen Brothers’ Blood Simple. I’m simple like that, perhaps. At the same time, having now SEEN both films, I feel unconsciously smart because aside from a titular word, both have a similar style that could easily work on a tense double bill. A Simple Plan is, I’ve decided, a great film not just for its tense narrative, but for what it does with ‘real’ people caught up a mess of their own making. Sure, it’s a story told timeless times before, but Raimi and Smith truly do make something great out of it by focusing on how a basic thing like wanting a few million dollars could tear apart not only your life and freedom, but very sense of what kind of person you are capable of being. It may be one of the best tragedies I’ve seen in some time.

Head this way for more Raiminess!

I say chilly, you say FROZEN

There are a few things in life I've vowed to simply never do, both for personal morality and plain intelligence. They include, but are not limited to the following:

-Go to a tanning salon

-Eat dog (I had the opportunity; I passed)

-Attempt skiing

Believe it or not, despite my hobbit-esque physique, I'm actually somewhat athletic, especially if the sport is softball or badminton (I'm serious). That being said, I'm also, without question, the clumsiest woman born in the 1980s. I know, EVERYBODY says that, but anyone who has actually had the pleasure of walking down the street with me only to at some point wonder where I went (i.e., the ground) knows this is true. For further proof, I submit my following experience:


-In the fourth grade, I plummeted off the balance beam and encumbered a giant apple-sized bump on my forehead, much to the amusement by fellow classmates

-I tripped up the stairs on a school trip to the Constitutional Hall in Philadelphia, comforting my embarrassment with the thought that maybe the same thing happened to Thomas Jefferson

-I've slipped on a banana peel. It wasn't funny. Okay, it probably was for others but shut up.
 
 


-I once stepped on a pitchfork lurking in the grass and had it me in the hat (thank goodness for aforementioned softball tendencies)

For these reasons plus 28 years of more, I shall never ski.

But that really has very little to do with Adam Green's 2010 winter-set film, Frozen, now doesn't it? I just wanted to be honest about where I was coming from as a person.

Quick Plot: Three college kids head to the mountains for a day of skiing and snowboarding. Dan and Lynch have been pals since the first grade, but Dan's girlfriend Parker is new to the group and, as we learn to Lynch's distaste, skiing in general. After a day of montage-y fun on the bunny hills, the trio decides to take one last trek down the real mountains at night. 

Oh kids, haven't you read the synopsis of this film?

Due to a series of believable misunderstandings surrounding closing time, the ski lift stops right as our leads have reached the middle of the ride. Alone. And cold.

Oh, and it's Sunday night, meaning nobody is due back to the lodge for another five days. Suddenly midterms ain't looking too shabby, are they coeds?

I won't go into any more synopsizing of Frozen for fear of spoilers, although in truth, there aren't too many huge surprises. This isn't necessarily a criticism; if anything, Frozen unfolds in believable style, as our not-overly-bright but still likable heroes have to work with what anyone in that situation would: freezing cold, darkness, internal disputes, heights, and of course, lack of a cell phone (c'mon skeptical viewer: you know that any participation in a horror movie negates your power to ever make a call while in a dangerous situation). Much like The Ruins, Frozen is more about how these individuals handle an awful and deadly situation than what necessarily happens to them. Call it survivalist horror, if you will. It doesn't quite pack the joy of killer klowns or demonic possessions, but when done correctly, that's a-ok.

High Points

Hell yes you will earn points with this audience member by citing the Sarlacc Pit as the worst possible death ever

Credit certainly goes to Kevin Zegers, Emma Bell, and Shawn Ashmore for holding our attention and sympathies, something aided immensely by Green's funny and realistic dialogue

Low Points

As great as the idea behind Frozen is, there's something about it that never quite amplifies past a certain point. By the last act, we're more curious than concerned as to what the fate of the characters will be. I'm not sure if this is a matter of story, character, or, quite possibly, my own personal taste

Lessons Learned

Always give a friend a spare key, particularly if you have a dog

You can never wear too many layers

Though awful and impossible, mastering pull-ups in gym class is an incredibly useful life skill that should not be avoided in your elementary days

Rent/Bury/Buy

Frozen is a great idea for a horror film, and Adam Green (Hatchet) executes it with skill. Though the film never quite ascends past its setup to give us anything truly terrifying, it's an easy recommend and like most of Green's films, a loaded DVD to own. I had a tense and fun time watching it, but personally, I can't really see revisiting it with the same relish as something like Hatchet. It's a different type of film with a lower rewatchability factor (for me). But hey, it's still something good, original, and supportive of my stance on death sports as dumb, so high fives all around.

Let the Sunshine In. Then Die.

Daylight Savings is a cruel calendar trick and a reason to distrust farmers, but we can be thankful for  one thing: sunshine. Bright, warm, orange hued illumination a whole 60 minutes ahead of schedule.

As I walked home this week and actually saw things, I started thinking about the effectiveness of daylight and its underuse in horror. Sure, there’s some primal fear and easy camera tricks to harvest in midnight cinema, but today, let’s take a look at films not afraid to let the sunshine in.

In rough chronological order:

1. The Wicker Man

Some of the earlier eeriness occurs in that sexy witching hour, when snails cuddle and Britt Ekland’s body double booty shakes, but Robin Hardy’s 1974 classic enigma truly comes to pagan life in its last terrifying act set during a beautiful fall early afternoon (well it starts in the morning, but those choral parades take forever). With the bright glare sometimes forcing you to look away, the film bypasses any of the tricks of night vision, letting all the weirdness of bunny masks, pancake makeup, and group singing hang out in full view. When (SPOILER ALERT) Sergeant Howie screams his final hymn from a blazing, goats a’fire filled sacrificial structure, the glory of the natural sun shines straight through to the audience.

2. I Spit On Your Grave

Brutal gang rape is horrifying any time of day, but this 1978 shocker is made all the worse by its fully lit cruelty. Filmmaker Meir Zarchi doesn't shy away from showing you the horrors experienced by lead Camille Keaton, filming her pale body with a matter-of-fact detachment that simply lets the crime speak for itself.

3. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Spanning dusk to dawn, Tobe Hooper’s classic set the bar for all-out backwoods psychohorror. The introduction of Leatherface--silent, husky, and full of gutty grime--is shocking not just because of his untamed violence, but also due to the sudden appearance of such a grotesque human in full light. It’s fitting then that TCM ends on such a memorable, sun-lit shot as our chainsaw-wielding madman swings his roaring sword across a slowly waking Texas morning landscape.

4. Jaws

Quint’s account of the USS Indianapolis may be told in haunting shadow, but his lower half gets crunched on what may otherwise be a perfect July beach morning. 

5. The Brood

Generally, kindergarten days begin with the Pledge of Allegiance and one kid vomiting in the morning circle, but leave it to David Cronenberg to capture a different sort of start to alphabet games and adding practice. This 1979 chiller features many fine sequences, but it’s the schoolteacher slaughter that truly horrifies anybody with a pulse. A sunny winter morning turns exceedingly bloody as two evil gnomish creatures bludgeon Ms. Mayer with kiddie tools...right in front of a classroom full of 6 year olds. Time for milk and cookies yet?

6. Friday the 13th

A good deal of this series benefits from those summer days, fitting when the entire concept is based on camping. Since we already know what Jason Voohres looks like by Part III, there’s really no more point in hiding his face in the nighttime shadows (something the misguided remake didn’t seem to understand). All this sunny machete action began in its ‘80s glory with the initial film, where several counselors met their end before they got the chance to put on their pajamas. More notably, the 1980 hallmark of dead teenager movies ends with one of the best jump scares in horror history, when final girl Alice survives into the early morning, only to get a terrifying wake-up call with a dozen and counting sequel potential.

7. The Burning

Yes, George Costanza himself--with hair--handing out condoms to camp counselors intent on seducing underage high schoolers is reason enough see this not-so-good 1981 slasher, but the real highlight is a raft massacre of a dozen kid campers via sharp, rusty garden shears. A great scene of gruesome cruelty and refreshingly timed for all to see.

8. Day of the Dead

Not the best Romero installment by any means (or at least, mine), but it’s hard to argue with those opening five minutes, where scabby, rotting zombies shuffle through an abandoned Florida street on what could otherwise be a fine day for a jog.

9. The Devil’s Rejects

The perfect flip side to the rave-colored black-lit House of 1000 Corpses (look close enough and I’m sure you’ll find some velvety neon posters of wizards hanging on Dr. Satan's walls), Rob Zombie’s matured throwback followup is dripping with the sweaty grime from a hot southern sun. From the daytime hotel massacre and truck scramble to the slow-motion Freebird finale, The Devil’s Rejects makes you feel the heat, one stabbed banjoist at a time.

10. Dawn of the Dead

Zach Snyder's surprisingly spry reimagining of zombies gone shopping smartly avoids the better-in-the-dark style of so many other modern films by opening and closing with two beautifully spring-like sunny days...that just happen to include Olympian trained sprinting undead. Before Johnny Cash's Man Comes Around or Ving Rhames' cool rears its shiny bald head, Dawn of the Dead starts so innocently in a bland, postcard worthy suburb of middle America before waking up the next day to neighborhood shootouts and helicopter crashes. It's fitting that the film ends at its titular time of day as our survivors make their way to a new--probably very short--life sailing a yacht on what would otherwise be an expensive mini vacation.

11. All the Boys Love Mandy Lane

Sure, the bulk of this still unjustly unreleased slasher takes place overnight on a blood-soaked ranch, but its grand finale gets the hot desert morning treatment, making its stunning twist all the more jarring. See it to believe it...when it actually gets legally put into theaters.

12. The Strangers

While the majority of this unofficial Ils remake occurs in the quiet midnight hours, the real horror is saved for sunrise. To avoid spoiling a fairly recent film, I’ll tread softer than the barely audible whispering of star Liv Tyler and simply say that in this surprisingly vicious minimalist slasher, the terror doesn’t end just because it’s time for waffles.

13. 28 Weeks Later

Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later offered a few effective AM shots, but it’s Juan Carlos Fresnadillo’s underrated sequel that takes full advantage of the rare British sun with one of the most terrifying opening sequences of recent years. There’s a reason you have to seal yourself indoors in the event of an infected cannibal rampage, and all it takes is one open eyehole to let the chaos destroy any safety you’ve built with fellow survivors. Watching a horde of infected chase after Robert Carlyle, operatic classical music playing maniacally in the background, is enough to make you turn out the lights.

14. The Ruins

Most vacationing college students traveling to Central America want nothing more than to surround themselves with hot people and work on their tans, but that gets taken a little too far in this 2008 adaptation of Scott Smith’s novel. Five fresh-faced young folks find themselves trapped on a mysterious Mayan structure, battling the threat of homicidal vines and--cue the sound cue--each other. While the film’s screaming plants lurk inside darkened caves, most of the more disturbing action occurs under the dry, scorching sun to ill-prepared twentysomethings running low on water and high on tequila. Nearly everything is fully visible, and all of it horrific in a way rarely seen in your typical pretty-people-in-trouble flicks of the 21st century.

15. Carriers

Highly contagious disease is ravaging its way through America--and presumably, the world--but you’d never know it if you just glanced out your window. The gorgeous weather offers an intriguing contrast to the increasingly tense atmosphere of this 2009 thriller as humans die off and plague erodes the line between morality and survival. There’s something disturbing, and yet perfectly fine about nature’s continuance in the face of human obliteration, and Carriers captures it with sunshine to spare.

and a few Honorable Mentions via some fine folks on Twitter

Cabin Fever

The Crazies

Drag Me to Hell

Let the Right One In

Martyrs

Picnic At Hanging Rock

Rosemary’s Baby

plus & Recommendations I Haven’t Seen:

And Soon the Darkness

The Children

Curtains

Dead Snow

D'oh! So That's Why I'm Dead

Devoted horror fans put up with a lot. Bad acting and clunky dialogue are often standard, while roving misogyny and special effects made during arts ‘n’ crafts class are not uncommon. Worse of all, we find ourselves constantly defending a genre littered with characters that make Jessica Simpson look like a Rhodes Scholar.

Sadly even good horror films are not immune. Let’s look at a few examples where seemingly smart characters doom themselves with stupid decisions. 

Mapping The Blair Witch Project

From the plain-faced actors to the music-less sounds of autumn, The Blair Witch Project achieved a sense of realism so true, gullible fans formed vigilant search missions to save the ill-fated (and fictional) filmmaker trio. For all its clever plotting and subtle scenes, however, there is one glaring plot flaw that could make even the most loyal fan say, “At least Book of Shadows didn’t do that.

"I kicked the map into the river!"proclaims the giggling, near hysteric Mike. It’s certainly understandable that being lost in the woods and low on food would play with our characters’ heads here and there, but could it also transform a once smart man into a total idiot? Granted, the map would probably have served no other purpose than becoming a sharp paper airplane to jab into Heather’s eye, but still: making a character that careless cuts our sympathies by a granola bar portion.

The Beyond Stupidity

It’s easy to watch a zombie film these days with a sense of superiority. After experiencing hundreds encounters with shamblers, sprinters, talkers, and every other varietal, most discerning fans know the only way to survive a meeting with an undead warrior is to shoot him or her in the head. Of course, in 1981, this wasn’t quite universal knowledge and thus, David Warbek’s heroic doctor in Lucio Fulci’s surreal classic is somewhat excused for firing a few stray rounds. For an untrained marksman, the head is not always the most obvious target.

Of course, all that should change when, after shooting a bunch of rotting corpses to no effect in the stomach, a head shot finally takes one down. Most people--especially those with enough intelligence to pass medical school--would probably reason that repeating said shot could defeat the approaching monsters. This guy? Not so much. Then again, he does load his rifle by dropping bullets down the barrel, so maybe he just knows something we don’t.

Taking Advantage of The Ruins

Stranded on an abandoned temple, surrounded by gun-wielding natives, and running out of food and water, the five pretty young people of 2008’s surprisingly good little horror film have little hope for survival. Well, they do have one weapon but despite the fair amount of intelligence present in these young college educated characters, no one thinks to take advantage of the one piece of leverage they have against their human antagonists: the villainous plants. 

When Jenna Malone breaks down, she hurls a loose piece of greenery straight at her captors. It brushes a young boy and before you can say poison ivy, another local soldier instantly shoots the unlucky fellow. Logic would follow that tossing a few more flowers in their direction could buy a little time by inciting a shootout, perhaps providing enough chaos for a frantic escape. I guess our party girls and boys slept through Logic and Survival Skills 101 freshman year.

That Darned Pet Sematary

Mary Lamber’s 1989 adaptation of Stephen King’s novel has produced its share of nightmares (in mine, Gage and Chucky would teamed up against me as the world’s scariest duo with a combined height under four feet) but in order to truly  be frightened, the audience is forced to endure not one but three character decisions that defy basic logic.

The kindly retired Hermann Munster/author of wonderful children’s books Fred Gwynne plays a weathered old man who knows his home town well. Upon the death of the new neighbors’ beloved kitty, Gwynne’s Jud encourages Mr. Creed to bury it in the local pet graveyard, knowing full well that what goes into the ground will come up...different. And never good.

Not surprisingly, the feline Church returns with an extremely unreasonable dose of cattitude. You’d think the young father had learned his lesson, but then true tragedy strikes, killing his young son. Naturally, the best idea seems to be a post-mortem move back into the old neighborhood. This not-so-bright decision can certainly be excused when taking into account the grief of losing a child, so I’ll cut the grieving father some slack. However, upon being widowed (whaddya know, by the very monster he helped to create), Mr. Creed returns again to the clearly cursed pet cemetery to bury his late wife. Because surely three times is the charm.

Really? Sure, your daughter is conveniently stashed away at Grandma’s, but if you think this move is going to inspire a second honeymoon, prepare for some serious disappointment.

Dumbness in Dawn of the Dead ’04

I spent several years working in the pet care industry and have owned dogs and cats my whole life. I know how deeply love can run with the canine species. 

I’m also not an idiot.

According to Zack Snyder and James Gunn’s revision of the zombie rules, freshly spry corpses run faster than Ricky Henderson in his prime. They’re also pickier eaters than the average supermodel, preferring an Atkins friendly menu of human meat with no cheats allowed on puppy ribs. Hence, when border collie Chips is dispatched to bring a few sandwiches to the sharpshooting Andy, he doesn’t need protection. 

Tell that to the whiny redhead who puts several lives in danger attempting to rescue the completely safe dog.

So am I being too hard on these intellectually inferior (and massively unlucky) characters, or should they all invest in a few good books? And which other casts would you nominate for Darwin Awards and certain death?

Flower Power

As modern hippies join hands and hold organic bake sales to benefit Earth Day, we horror fans find our own ways of honoring this third planet from the sun most of us call home. Personally, I can't think of a better method than to comb through cinema history for a few films high on environmentally inspired dangers. I don't know about you, but that sounds far more fun than making a compost pile or, you know, trying to save a world that seems so hellbent on killing us.

Terrifying Trees!

While there has yet to be an official Arbor Day entry into the slasher school of holiday-themed horror, trees do get their due, and I’m not just talking about Elm Street (ba dom bump! I'll stop now). William Friedken's abysmal 1990 The Guardian bests The Hand That Rocks the Cradle for presenting the wealthy suburbs’ most viscous nanny (and adds the whole “druid cult that believes in sacrificing babies to oaks” twist that’s much worse than it sounds). Of course, The Evil Dead gives us an infamous lady-raping tree, but the film that truly alleviates my guilt over wasting paper goes back 70 years to the Yellow Brick Road. Whether Oz exists south of the Equator or somewhere deep inside Dorothy’s uppers/downers-filled head, it does boast a forest that could kick the hobbits out of Middle Earth. If my woods ever insulted me with the fervor of a bad standup comic or hurled apples my way with more speed than Johann Santana, I’d say screw double-sided copies and bring on urban sprawl.

Eat Your Vegetables (Before They Kill You)

When I was 8 years old, I started my first great unfinished screenplay titled, quite simply,  “Don’t Eat.” The poster art (done in pre-sharpener equipped Crayola) featured a giant hot dog menacingly squeezing a ketchup bottle’s contents into a dying diner’s mouth as flames spouted out his eyes. I’m still waiting for Harvey Weinstein’s call, but in the meantime, any film about killer food will keep me entertained. Because it’s ridiculous. Obviously, Attack of the Killer Tomatoes is worth its infamy, but for a poetically veggie viewing, I’d hit up Children of the Corn 2: The Final (despite 5 more and counting sequels) Sacrifice. The 1992 installment tosses in an explanation of how chemically rotting corn mold was responsible for driving Isaac & Co. into Bad Seed levels of bloodthirstiness. And here I thought those cobs just had too many carbs.

Villainous Vinery

Invasion of the Body Snatchers has its spores and Creepshow has a fuzzy green Stephen King, but it seems like most ferocious fauna is a tad too alien-based for a day that celebrates this planet. Perhaps one of the most underrated horror films of recent years is The Ruins, a glossy but nasty little chiller that features frisky plant life as creatively sadistic as it is au naturale. Based on Scott B. Smith’s fantastically frightening novel of the same name, The Ruins makes a poison ivy rash look pleasant. Hell, it makes jumping naked into an overgrown garden of three-leaved bushes look more comforting than falling gently into a basket of fluffy towels regularly leapt into by Snuggles, the fabric softener bear.

Emoting in the Wind (which is totally not Happening)

If the world is indeed populated by nerdy, whiny voiced Mark Walberg’s who constantly worry about What’s Happening to The Bees!, then I’m all for deadly wind swooping in to destroy the human population in grisly and thoroughly painful ways. While I admire M. Night Shayamalan’s um, intent to highlight environmental issues, I--along, I’m sure, with most of the non-comatose public who lost 89 minutes to this bewildering bad mess--found his latest disaster to be worthy of extinction. Still, the idea of Mother Nature taking matters into her own hands ain’t bad. 

Now let’s never speak of this movie again.

Deadly Dionaea Muscipula

Let us stop to consider the irony of the venus fly trap. It’s a plant. It’s also a carnivore. In a way, that makes perfect sense (you can never accuse it of cannibalism) but holy shit. A plant eats meat. It’s nearly as confusing as goblins turning humans into greenery for cuisine while promoting vigilant vegetarianism (it's hard to go more than a week without mentioning Troll 2 in some form or another). 

Naturally, venus fly traps make ideal villains. Little Shop of Horrors amps it up by fitting its name to cast its a man-eating flower as a creature FROM outer space, but for a more earth-bound example, look to the animated framing story of Creepshow 2. It even teaches a few lessons about the wrongness of bullying and the importance of teaching youths about gardening. 

So dear readers, how did YOU celebrate your homeland this past week? Non-dairy pizza parties decorated with crepe-shaped hemp paper or learning a lesson about organic recycling with Cliff Clavin in Motel Hell?