Now that Halloween season is winding down, I thought I’d continue the “comprehensive” list of horror movies I’ve watched in the last couple of months. This includes a few that I’ve seen since the list I posted last week.
I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get around to watching Dead Alive. There’s no way to describe the blood and slime and hilarity and nausea in a way that would do this movie any justice. I watched it with a friend the other night and we cringed and laughed our asses off the whole way through. The only other movies I’ve seen that come close in terms of sheer, watching-with-mouth-hanging-open insanity are Hausu and Santa Sangre. Whenever I think about Peter Jackson’s early films, like this or Meet the Feebles, I’m constantly amazed that this is the director they decided to entrust the Lord of the Rings trilogy with. Maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising, though. Dead Alive is a lovingly made film, with impeccable attention to detail. If you haven’t seen it, stop whatever you’re doing now and watch the bloody thing. I’ll wait.
I discussed this one briefly in my last post about suburban horror. It’s not a frightening movie, rather a very silly one in some ways, but being a child of the 80s, I enjoyed the weird goofiness of the whole kid-focused, creepy, horror/fantasy thing, reminiscent of old favorites like Poltergeist, The Goonies, Gremlins, and the Monster Squad. Plus, it has baby Stephen Dorff in it (who has always looked like a surly old man, apparently)! And I really loved the best friend, the dorky know-it-all friend who “acts out” by wearing a leather jacket and listening to Satanic metal.
Return to Horror High
This was a fun horror comedy about a film crew that’s making a movie in an abandoned high school where a massacre took place a few years earlier. Return to Horror High features Lori Lethin, who also starred in Bloody Birthday (a film I covered in Part 1), as well as a young George Clooney in his very first role! The plotline gets a little convoluted, but it’s nice to see an early example of a horror film that skewers the genre conventions by having a movie-within-a-movie – long before Scream 3.
This is a pretty decent slasher film from 1981 (the year I was born) that catches a lot of actors early in their careers (Jason Alexander, Holly Hunter, Fisher Stevens). There’s not too much suspense, since the killer and his motives are revealed from the get-go, but it’s a well-made movie with lots of gore and some neat twists on the summer camp slasher subgenre. A scene near the beginning pretty much rips off Dario Argento – a prostitute gets stabbed in the heart, falls backwards through a shattering window.
Worth checking out if you’re bored:
Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers
Speaking of summer camp slashers! The sequel to Sleepaway Camp is insanely watchable, if not entirely thrilling. Felissa Rose from the original is replaced here by Pamela Springsteen (Bruce’s sister) as the affable and perky camp counselor Angela, who murders campers when they get out of line. This movie has one of the funniest “meta” scenes I’ve seen in recent memory, when Angela searches the cabin, testing out each item for its effectiveness as a murder weapon. It’s a nice twist on the serial killer who always has every possible implement of death at his/her fingertips.
This movie is worth watching for the gimmick (filmed in one long “take,” or at least made to appear so) and for the unsettling mood created in the first three quarters. The criticism I’ve read almost unanimously pans the ending, and I agree – it’s a terrible, terrible ending that I had figured out before I ever even saw the movie. But it’s still a fascinating mess to watch at times. Elizabeth Olsen is wonderful, too.
So, I don’t know how this movie ever got made, or how they talked Luis Guzman into appearing, but bless their batshit crazy hearts. The Caller had me in the palm of its hand for at least the first forty-five minutes; a young woman leaves her abusive husband and moves into a grimy apartment with a possessed telephone. She keeps getting creepy phone calls from an unhinged and manipulative woman from the freaking past. The movie kind of unravels toward the end, getting more and more sadistic and nonsensical (seriously, DO NOT attempt to think too hard about this movie). But I’d like to commend the set designers for creating that apartment, at once depressing, quirky, cozy, and shabby.
Sorority House Massacre
Nowhere near as good as Slumber Party Massacre (no connection, really, beyond being made in the 80s and having the word “massacre” in the title), but it has its own cheesy charms. Lots of boobs. And a bunch-of-girls-trying-on-clothes musical montage.
Paranormal Activity 4
I talked about this one briefly in my last entry, too. For me, this was the weakest entry in the series so far. Most people complain about how formulaic the Paranormal Activity movies are, but I thought this one’s weakness was in how far it strayed from what works. My roommate and I were freaked out by the earlier films because the slow burns were sooo slow. Entire nights would pass by without any incident, but in the new film, the directors just couldn’t resist putting some kind of jump scare in every sequence. This made it feel faster paced than its predecessors, but also too mechanical, with too much of a wink at the audience.
Next time — I’ll talk about the movies that didn’t work for me.
The Paranormal Activity franchise is like the Ikea furniture of film: they’re minimalist, functional, and completely disposable. Even when it’s not the greatest thing in the world, it works. My former roommate and I went to see the 4th installment last night at the Alamo Drafthouse. Back when we lived together, we watched the 2nd and 3rd in the series, and now that she’s visiting town for Halloween, we saw the latest for old time’s sake.
There’s a big difference between watching these movies at home and watching them in the theater. Watching at home, I was hyper-aware of the movie’s generic, domestic interiors because we were also surrounded by drab walls, cabinets, closet doors, the cookie-cutter accoutrements of modern living. My roommate and I huddled on the sofa, covering our faces with blankets when we knew something scary was going to happen.
Watching the movie in the theater was scarier in some ways; the big screen is more immersive, but when surrounded by other movie-goers, you also have your pride to consider. I will not jump, cry out, or cower, so I steel myself extra hard. On the other hand, in the theater I lost that sense of identification between my home and the home on the screen. Also, it’s hard to be too scared when you’re eating pizza. That’s just science, folks.
Architecture has always been an important component of horror movies and fear itself. I grew up in a very old house (pre-Civil War era), and as a girl who was often afraid of her own shadow, it was like living in a real-life horror movie sometimes. So many dark corners and hidden spaces: attics, chimneys, crawl spaces, hollow walls. It makes sense that the traditional haunted house is a very old one that creaks at night. The older a home is, the more likely that someone died there. It also makes sense that ghosts, demons and evil forces would attach themselves to older structures, that ancient beings would feel a kinship to homes with history.
So it’s interesting, then, that so much horror of the last few decades has been set in shiny, anonymous suburban homes. I have a weakness for movies that play with this juxtaposition of the old (evil forces) and the new (tract housing) even though I have never lived in the suburbs, myself. This is part of the reason why I liked Ringu and Ju-on so much; there wasn’t anything inherently creepy about the plain and modern-looking Japanese homes, but the setting threw the horrific images of the ghosts into sharp relief. (As a side note on effective juxtapositions, I also have mad respect for films that set their scariest sequences in broad daylight.) As I’ve mentioned before, Poltergeist was my favorite movie when I was a kid. Maybe it wasn’t the first house-built-on-an-Indian-burial-ground film, but I think it’s had a large influence on how horror films deal with the tension between modernity and antiquity.
I just watched The Gate, a 1987 movie about a couple of kids who discover a portal to hell when their favorite tree is cut down. It ticks off all the Poltergeist boxes: suburban home, underground evil, magic tree, creature under the bed, people trapped in the walls. I liked the movie a lot. People have complained about how cheesy-looking the demons are, and they are somewhat comical but the movie was still unnerving due to a weird dream-logic that pervades every scene.
Another movie that’s a blatant rip-off of Poltergeist is the 2010 movie Insidious, although it seems to be more loving and knowing homage than shameless forgery. The Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series also belongs on a list of suburban horror; Joss Whedon went to great lengths to contrast the sunny California neighborhoods and the typical American high school against the torments unleashed by the underground Hellmouth.
In suburban horror, we see the uncanny at work. The dilapidated old mansion is scary because of its otherness; we don’t necessarily recognize our lives or routines in its vaulted ceilings, hardwood floors, or vintage wallpaper. But when evil spirits invade our modern houses, the cozy and familiar places we call home suddenly become unfamiliar.
Home is where Hell is.