Reader Recommendation: Ringu

“The only thing worse than American remakes is American remakes of  Japanese films. This one started it all- The Asian Invasion, and it is one of 3! movies I consider to be genuinely scary. It doesn't move all over the place like the remake. It's a tightly bound story that works on every level.”--Eric

Quick Plot: A giggly pair of Japanese girls (no, there aren't many other kinds) hang out home alone doing as all teenagers do on a Friday night: watching Mets games and telling ghost stories. The urban legend du jour involves a mysterious video tape circulating around the rumor mill, killing anyone who watches it one week after the play button is pushed and a static filled warning sent via phone. One of the girls, Imako, turns pale with the admission that she's seen said tape and then...

All is forgotten for token giggle time.

If only all ghost stories could end as such.

After Imako's mysterious death, we're introduced to the girl's aunt Reiko, a single mom journalist quick to hop on the investigation even if said act means she spends less time with her incredibly independent 7-year old son. Along the way, she discovers a grainy VHS tape that can only be evil incarnate or an ambitious goth film student's project. After viewing the bizarre short, Reiko's phone rings, an ominous sign in any horror universe.
 

Naturally, Reiko decides to share the death-bringing video tape with the one person who can maybe help her and, I suppose more importantly, might warrant a death-bringing video: her ex-husband, played by Hiroyuki Sanada (so great in Danny Boyle's Sunshine). Together, they embark on a mini road and boat trip that's made all the more urgent when their son sneaks a peak at the irresponsibly unmarked tape.

The investigation leads to a 40 year mystery involving a scientist, a seer, and a dead child with token waist-length black hair, all the while with a calendar clock ticking.

 

Like most Westerners, I saw Gore Verbinski's 2002 remake at the height of its popularity on, whaddya know, a VHS rental. It's hard to recall my overall impression from that film, since so many J-Horrors have since found their slow burning ways inside my television. At the same time, it's almost impossible to view Ringu with fresh eyes since the meat of the story was copied to a tee. 

Not as blatantly horror filmish as Verbinski’s adaptation, Ringu unwinds more like a ghostly mystery. I honestly can’t speak to the scares of the film, since all were anticipated from my familiarity with The Ring. While that’s something of a shame, I wouldn’t necessarily liken it to the ending of Fight Club being spoiled by a high school classmate back in 1999 (one day, I shall kill him). 

 

High Points

Having our leads be a divorced couple lends so much more interesting background to Ringu than found in so many of these beautiful-strangers-forced-to-work-together-and-develop-unconsumated-sexual-chemistry horror films. We sense the history between these two people, but it’s never distracting to the major plot at hand. It works rather perfectly

 

Though we’ve seen countless similar tricks both before and after the birth of Ringu, it’s hard to deny the content of that video is unnerving

Low Points

Much like my recent realization of my disconnect with giallo, I think my biggest beef with Ringu is the nature of its setup. Like The Eyes of Laura Mars, Ringu presents a mystery that it seems to want its audience to solve, and yet...there’s simply no way to do so

 

Lessons Learned

First graders can be incredibly self-sufficient if your method of parenting is to occasionally look their way

 

Japanese elementary school style includes extremely short shorts

Grilled cheezus woman, if you are in possession of a videotape that will kill anyone that watches it, don’t leave the thing laying around for your restless son to pop in when he can’t fall asleep. Don’t they teach this stuff in Lamaze class?

Rent/Bury/Buy

Ringu could almost be compared to Night of the Living Dead or Halloween for the simple reason of birthing a new movement in genre cinema. I’m sure there are better (and earlier) J-horror films out there (Kairo/Pulse remains my personal favorite), but Ringu is an important piece of modern culture. That being said, it didn’t really do much for me as someone who pretty much knew what was coming. It’s a skillfully made film, one not without its creepiness (and a surprising ending--different from the remake--that works quite well) but I just never felt the dread I was hoping for, something that gave me real nightmares with Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Pulse. Rent it, to be sure, since the ride itself is well-done and eerie. And of course, remember to then pass it on to a friend if you expect to....well, I kid. As long as you watch it. Before the week is over. Please?

Sex! Now that I have you attention, please please please Help a Baby Eater Out

Most of you horror blog readers are probably well acquainted with the wit and wonders of Mattsuzaka, the gatekeeper to one of the web's most enjoyable hangouts, Chuck Norris Ate My Baby (.blogspot.com). From Freddy's Friday Night Guest Party to some of the most memorable podcast voicemail in podistory, this strapping young fellow simply makes the Internet (and world) a better place to be.


What you might not know about Matt is that his fiancee is kickass. Kidney kickass. A few years back, his lady donated one of her own to help keep him the roundhouse kicking master we all know and adore. If that's not love, then WALL-E isn't adorable.

And WALL-E is eff you cee kaying adorable.


Now, here's where you--and you, you, and you--show your awesomeness. Matt & Liz are entered in a fancy dancy contest wherein they can win a dream wedding. All they need is a whole bunch of votes from YOU (and you, you, and you) to get to one last round of engaged couple throwdowns, where judges will ultimately select the recepients. Considering their so-romantic-it-makes-me-cry-slash-vomit love story, I believe their odds are good.


Here's how to help:


1. Go to HERE and register (it's free and you can uncheck any pesky box that dares to send you email).
2. Log in EVERY DAY for the next TWO WEEKS and vote here, picking (unless you want my wrath) Matt & Liz
3. Do this tomorrow.
4. Do this the next day.
5. See #2.
6. Rinse.
7. Wash.
8. Repeat.

I finally met Mr. Zaka this weekend at HorrorHound (photos hopefully on their way) and I can't tell you enough: this man is superb. He and his gal have been through a lot and if there's one couple that deserves to ride down the aisle on a winged unicorn wearing Swarovski crystals, it's them.

Gone HorrorHoundin'

Should my plane crash, there's pumpkin ice cream in my freezer.

Don't let it go to waste.

Saw 7: The Better Not Be Final Chapter

I’ve gone on record more than once regarding my gooey affection for the Saw series. Sure, the story is more tangled than Natasha Lyonne’s hair, the gore grosser than Natasha Lyonne’s bathroom floor, and the acting often patcher than Natasha Lyonne in a mesh t-shirt, but darnit, these movies are fun. Blackened humor fun covered in guts, but fun nevertheless. Best of all, the films actually take place in their own genuine universe, a place rich in rusty bolts, sinners, old timesy tricycles, and characters that actually return 6 entries later.

Basically, if you ever want to pick a fight with me, insult Saw. Unless you’re limiting said attack to Part V, I will bury you.

It was a sunny Sunday morning when I decided an extra hour of Daylight Savings given sleep warranted a 10AM viewing of Saw 3D. Having seen all but Part 1 in the theater I knew I owed it to myself (and the producers) to pony up $10 and don those plastic glasses for what could potentially be “The Final Chapter” (cause that was so true for Jason).

To give some basis for my Saw stance, below is my summation on each film:

I. A pleasant surprise, despite its collection of terrible performances from somewhat to very respected actors (Elwes, Glover). Notable for, at the time, feeling incredibly fresh and refreshingly nihilistic.

II. Probably my favorite of the series, a tighter film that successfully amped up the gore and game. Lots of great deaths, two neat twists, and one Wahlberg.

III. Though a lot of fans cite this as the best, I enjoy it far less than most of the other movies. Two unlikable protagonists, an ending that takes away too many interesting characters too quickly, pig guts, shouting, general ugliness. Not my favorite.

IV. For some reason, I seem to be the only cheerleader for this entry, one that  (in my opinion) boasts the only sympathetic lead. Plus, Donnie Wahlberg’s head gets smashed and the Mandylor gets revealed for all his Costasness.

V. Shit. For so many reasons, shit. Does nothing but give Jill Tuck a box. The Fatal 5 feels like the first draft of Part II and worst of all, the lone survivor (Lions Gate slave Julie Benz) seems like a Jigsaw cohort, is never confirmed, then never seen again. Boo.

VI. The most pleasant prize of the bunch, a clever (if ham-fisted) attempt to say something about healthcare, with some of the best traps and biggest surprises. Read my full review here

So. Knowing that part VI director Kevin Greutert was returning (against his will, since his fingers were pried off the Paranormal Activity sequel by contractual obligations), I was pumped. What follows will reek of SPOILERS, but to those who may stop reading here, know that if you enjoyed any of the other Saws, you will probably love this one.

Quick Plot: Um. Quick?

I swear this gets harder with every sequel.

Okay, breaking it down:

1.Bobby is a self-help celebrity superstar who cashed in on surviving a Jigsaw trap. Problem is, he never actually went through a trap which naturally means he’ll be the next subject in Jigsaw’s friends-and-family game. Think of his thread as the timeframe device, complete with a ticking digital countdown clock that apparently the apprentices bought wholesale.

2. Jill has gone to the rat squad of the FBI (yes, I watch too much Law & Order: SVU) to finger Detective Hoffman as Jigsaw’s current working apprentice. Agent Gibson ( a hilariously southern Chad Donella) takes the case.

3.Hoffman, now scarred and still so jacked he can’t bend, orchestrates a few new side games targeting Neo-Nazis, Jill, and Gibson. It’s funny, because Costas Mandylor remains an increasingly hilarious presence. I just can’t believe this is an actual person.

What can one even say about the 7th Saw film? That it’s just as gory, perplexing, funny, and ridiculously as enjoyable as IV & VI? Take, for example, the simply amazing cameo by Scream Queens Season 1 champ Tanedra, who returns with one arm to scream at a Jigsaw Survivors Support Group (yes, that this group exists in itself is fabulous):

“The only good thing that came out of my experience is getting handicapped parking at the goddamned mall!”

Why was I the only one in my admittedly uncrowded theater laughing at that?

Other points of giddiness:

-The fact that FBI agents continue to enter the lairs of supergenius serial killers without calling backup

-The fact that none of the many agents killed last year by Hoffman thought to leave a post-it saying “Hoffman might be killer. Confronting him now. If I die, see other post-it” 

-The new lead FBI Agent and everything he did, including addressing Jill solely as “Crazy” and checking the tiny corner of a bathroom crime scene to see if Hoffman had been hiding there for the last seven hours

-Tobin Bell, in his signature flashback cameo, wearing a backwards baseball cap and dungarees. A BACKWARDS BASEBALL CAP!!!

-For whatever reason (I say that a lot with the Saw movies) there’s a Changeling-esqe wheelchair just hanging out in the lair and a random kill takes place in a garden gnome factory

Like every entry before it, Saw 3D has received its share of criticism. I can’t imagine why. Yes, it reuses a subplot we’ve seen in every film since part 3, but it also introduces new traps and expands the Saw universe in pretty neat ways. The idea that past survivors continue to exist in Saw’s chronology offers some good potential for future films (because we can all agree “The Final Chapter” is just something to say for theaters not showing it in 3D, right?) and also hits on one of the more interesting aspects of the Jigsaw’s nature. Ever since Amanda first uttered, through reverse bear trap scars, “He...helped...me,” there’s always been that curiosity of if and how his macabre lessons actually play out. Here, we get to see a few more.

Yup, Doct-ar Gord-on! (as I can only say in my best Michael Emerson shout) is back, sporting a few extra pounds, a mild limp, and the same lovably awful American accent we first heard seven (!!!) years ago. That in itself is a mild treat to Saw devotees.

What else can we ask for? A screaming and useless chick getting burned to death? Check. A smarmy self-help phony pulling out his molars and inserting hooks into his nipples? Done. It’s understandable that such things won’t make everybody happy. Just don’t insult the people that it does.

High Points

The film’s biggest group trap includes a speeding tire, arm ripoff, and skinhead superglued to his car. It’s lovely. Similarly, one trap involving a blinded character navigating an unfinished floor (while wearing a ready-to-activate noose) is surprisingly tense

Low Points

While the 3D seemed more relevant than something like Piranha or The Final Destination, it still didn’t quite meet my expectations. C’mon, Saw. You’re the granddaddy of Rube Goldbergian kill-traps for this generation. Couldn’t you find something else to throw at us than piles of intestines?

Lessons Learned

When being chased by a bloodthirsty sadist, hiding in an exposed little nook between book shelves with no weaponry isn’t really the best way to save your life

Carinal rule of horror continues: any female with a T-starting name will demonstrate slut tendencies. And die a fairly painful death (in this case, in front of hundreds of morning shoppers)

Matters of the FBI are best kept between agents. There’s absolutely no need to call more than two reinforcements in at any point, even if you happen to be tracking a serial killer with a larger body count than Jason Voorhees

It’s incredibly easy to tamper with FBI evidence, especially when it involves one of the biggest cases in criminal history

See/Skip/Sneak-In

Unless you’re packing your own glasses, you can’t really sneak in now can you? Good, because if you love the Saw franchise, you might as well drop a few bucks down and enjoy another round of ridiculous gutty fun. Have a few drinks first, gather up your friends, and settle in for some master lessons in smarm from the hopefully always employed Costas Mandylor.

The man deserves to sell his own wine. Or something that puts his face on a label. It's like a Guess Who character come to life!

Film Club Funhouse!

When Final Girl Stacie Ponder announced The Funhouse as this month’s Film Club choice, I smiled wider than the laughing fat lady who so eloquently frames the movie itself.

Love. Her.

And almost love The Funhouse, Tobe Hooper’s 1981 slasher is a perennial Doll’s House watch, one I grew up with via the USA Network and a well watched VHS tape. Though it never ascended to Killer Klowns-levels of adoration territory, this was something of a classic (by my definition) and one that I was excited to watch from a reviewing point of view.

Quick Plot: Two naughty teen couples (including one halved by Elizabeth “The Cop From The John Larroquette Show” Berridge as goodish girl Amy) decide to spend the night in a traveling carnival’s funhouse. Really, who can blame them? Between the dancing skeleton, horrifying animatronics, giant eyeball and comfy Alice In Wonderland-like grass, who wouldn’t want to lose their virginity inside?

Unfortunately, there’s the unpleasant business of catching the funhouse barker’s son breaking the neck of the sexy (to some) old fortune teller, played with great trashiness by an Academy Award nominee who in my heart, will always be Meryl Streep’s mom in She-Devil.

Have I told you lately that I love She-Devil?

Before you can pass the douche on the left hand side, the quartet is being hunted by the mutant murderer and his abusive pops, played with the same hatable Irish American charm actor Kevin Conway brought so devilishly to his role on Oz.

Rewatching The Funhouse for the first time in a few years, I was struck by a few happy factors I’d somehow never noticed. Primarily, as a horror film, it’s kind of awesome.

Now, I’m not calling The Funhouse a wrongly underrated masterpiece, but it is something of a dusty diamond in the rough of sleazy cinema. Hooper takes his time establishing the carnival as a seedy, potentially evil setting rich with cooky old crazies (at least three by my count) and mutated cows. 

At the same time, Larry Block’s script never quite ascends past typical. We know pretty quickly who will make it to the morning, even though Hooper does manage to squeeze some intense tension from a few key chases. Likewise, we get a mini-subplot involving Amy’s little brother and his Halloween-like hobbies, but where does it really go other than a brief scene of irony? And another fabulous scene with his and Amy’s grouchier than Oscar wet towels of parents, which in fairness, is super.

So as for story, The Funhouse could certainly use a stylish haircut. Something unexpected and new, like The Rachel highlighted with snakes. We don’t get that, but that doesn’t necessarily take away from the eerie atmosphere or lingering ickiness of a messy psuedo-rape scene. The film succeeds in making you tense and upset. I just wish it did a tad more.

High Points

We’re all agreed that the opening credits are about as perfect as anything in this world could possibly get, yes?

Tobe Hooper gets his share of sometimes deserved criticism, but jiminy jippers is this a well directed and shot film (extra kudos to cinematographer Andrew Laszio, he of Newsies, Southern Comfort, and everybody’s life-changing classic, Ghost Dad). You can pull out quite a bunch of stand-alone scenes that show just how effective his style is, including a few minutes following Amy’s rascally little brother that are done in complete, utter, and rather terrifying silence

An imposing score can sometimes kill a not too deep horror film, but John Beal’s music--a catchy blend of ominous circusness--amplifies the tension to pretty fabulous levels

Low Points

I know this was the early ‘80s, a time when strong women were confined to jobs that required shoulder pads, but did final girl Amy have to be such a helpless coward who could only stand and cry while her date’s being stabbed in front of her eyes?

Lessons Learned

You risk the ire of blonds when you preach...especially in bathrooms

Things most college aged girls of the 1980s didn’t like seeing with their sweethearts: preserved displays of mutated fetuses, nudie shows, and murder

Yet another reason not to smoke (you know, dropping a lighter upon the monster you’ve just seen kill a woman with his bare hands)

If you play your cards right on a first date, you can lose your virginity. If you play them wrong, you can be dry humped by a mutant

Rent/Bury/Buy

Though not without its problems, The Funhouse deserves a viewing from every genre fan. What it lacks in story innovation it more than makes up for with incredible mood, from the titular carnival ride to the effective stalk ‘n slash sequences underneath its floors. Sadly the DVD offers nothing but subtitles, making it not the best investment of your cash. At the same time, this is a film that you can go back to quite often. The brisk pacing and circus-like atmosphere makes it inherently rewatchable, at least if you have a soft spot for scantily clad middle aged fortune tellers and dark rides.

So rent the movie if you dare, but first, head over to Final Girl to check out all the other kool kids and their reviews. If you’re lucky, they just might wiggle and dance. 

That’s right, they wiggle AND they dance.

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.