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Bubba Ho-Tep (2003)
Bruce Campbell gives a memorable performance as the aging king of rock ’n roll, Elvis, spending his remaining years wasting away in a Texas nursing home. He and a black man (Ossie Davis), who thinks hes JFK, battle a mummy thats feeding on the souls of the nursing home. Its a fabulous premise, pure and simple. The trouble is, Bubba Ho-Tep works well in great bits and pieces but doesn’t have the hold of a feature film. This feels more acquainted to a short film or a TV sketch. There are parts where I was laughing hysterically (Davis has my favorite line: ”They took my brain! Im thinking with sand up there!”), and then there are other moments toward the end where I was catching myself nodding off. Writer/director Don Coscarelli has a cool visual palette of light and shadow, reminiscent of Guillermo del Toro (Blade 2). He also has a wicked sense of humor. The best moments of Bubba Ho-Tep are the back-story involving how the real Elvis swapped places to live a normal life. Campbell is wonderful, and the movie is alive in spurts, but it cant shake the illusion of feeling stretched.
Nate’s Grade: B-
Cabin Fever (2003)
Throw out all your foolhardy preconceived notions of what you believe to be mans greatest endeavor. Fire, the wheel, antiseptics, flight? Toss them all in a big garbage can, because Cabin Fever is the greatest single thing human beings have ever and will ever create. I hear a select few countering, What about the Renaissance? Oh yeah, did the Renaissance have gratuitous nudity? Wait, scratch that. Did the Renaissance have indulgent nude scenes involving the former Yellow Power Ranger? I think not. Did your fancy-smantzy Renaissance have dogs ripping people apart, backwater yokels who perform kung fu and hobos being set on fire? Thats what I thought. Now who looks like the fool? If I had to live in a Cabin Fever-less world, I would hope it would collapse upon itself, because humanity shouldn’t have to continue without this movie.
Cabin Fever is a delirious new horror film tweaking all the clichés and expectations of horror. Five friends who have just graduated from college rent a secluded cabin for a weekend. Then their numbers start dwindling through horrific killings. The brutal murderer? A flesh eating bacteria infecting their numbers, ravaging inside them and making flesh fall off like loose cheese on a pizza.
Once the group discovers that one of their friends has become infected they without hesitation quarantine her in a shed. They make failed attempts at getting outside assistance but are pushed back into the hot zone. Their fears and distrust manifest, and what was intended to be a sexual romp in he woods (we all know how that goes in horror flicks) has turned into a microcosm of Lord of the Flies meets Evil Dead II, with a dash of Night of the Living Dead.
What elevates Cabin Fever from similar brainless exercises in mutilating sexually active teens is its self-awareness and constant humor. It plays upon horror staples, particularly the notion of a nation of creepy backwoods folk waiting to take advantage of lost teens. Cabin Fever proudly wears its horror influences on its sleeve. The film is also relentlessly hilarious in its tongue-in-cheek self-awareness. I was laughing all the way through. The film even ends in an inter-racial ho-down with banjos!
The film isn’t so much scary, though it does have a few shares of scares. The film also isn’t as gory as youd believe, but when it shows the gory goods Cabin Fever swings for the fences. Interesting enough, someone on the Cabin Fever crew actually suffered an attack by flesh-eating bacteria in their life and claims the gruesome makeup to be 100 percent authentic.
Writer/director Eli Roth’s Cabin Fever is a scream. He has an amazing sense of visuals and creates a vivid picture of doom. He displays a sickly entertaining sense of humor, much like Sam Raimi and Peter Jackson did before they went Hollywood. The photography is great, the disgusting makeup is skin-crawling (perhaps a more appropriate term than intended) and the performances are dead-on camp. Each of the characters fits into a horror archetype from innocent girl next-door (who gets infected first), sexy brunette vamp, loudmouth drunkard and nice guy who lacks confidence (Rider Strong of Boy Meets World).
Now some will take umbrage to the fact I’m giving a goo-filled horror flick such a high rating. Cabin Fever is the most fun I’ve had at the movies in some time, and is perfect for getting a group of your friends together to experience. I couldn’t ask for more breezy entertainment from a movie. You know what else your fancy Renaissance didn’t have? People swallowing their harmonicas. I’m pretty sure they didn’t have that. Take that harmonica-less Michelangelo, you hack!
Nate’s Grade: A
Freddy vs. Jason (2003)
Usually cross-over flicks seem like the last stop in a flagging franchises journey before the wheels fall off. When it comes to slasher flicks, the nature of the genre is the exact opposite of more traditional horror flicks. Instead of rooting for their survival we cant wait for their evisceration. Freddy and Jason are tycoons of bloody teen tyranny; this is their business, and apparently, ladies and gentlemen, business is good.
It seems that Freddy Krueger (Robert Englund) is not having a grand ole time in hell. This horrifically scarred former boogeyman used to slaughter the residents of Elm Street in creative yet gruesome manners. The residents of Elm Street have been giving their kids potent pills to stop them from dreaming, thus shutting the door on Freddy. Now Freddy isn’t even remembered, and as he so eloquently remarks, “that’s a real bitch.” He’s not down for the count, though. He reawakens Jason (Ken Kerzinger), an indestructible behemoth with lucky hockey mask and machete, to terrorize the residents of Elm Street so the fear quotient peaks and Freddy can regain power. Jason gets a little carried away, notably at a student rave in a corn field, and Freddy doesnt like Jason having all the murderous fun. Thus establishes a showdown.
For the first fifteen minutes or so, it appears like Freddy vs. Jason (no under card like Michael Myers vs. Pumpkinhead) is a winking parody of the slasher films it made famous. In the opening minutes we already get our first dose of gratuitous nudity as a foolhardy coed skinny-dips in some familiar camp waters. She actually says, while swimming naked, in the year 2003, “Where are you? This isn’t funny anymore!”
Another example of self-awareness occurs after the first murder on Elm Street. Immediately after a gruesome murder the trio of girls runs out the house shrieking, “HELP!” at the top of their lungs (and for Kelly Rowland that could get high). A passing police car stops by. The girls frantically bang on the car window, still crying for help. The officer rolls down his window and says plainly, “You girls need some assistance?” Don’t even get me started on the sudden appearance of a goat.
Director Ronny Yu previously resurrected the Chucky franchise with 1998’s Bride of Chucky and works his magic yet again. Yu’s staging of mayhem is alert and, despite an overly enthusiastic score, some dread does build. Some of his camera angles are also very unique.
The female lead (Monica Keena) seems like the definition of the blonde of slasher films. She’s mysteriously always wearing white (shes a virgin!) outfits that get drenched with water. Hmmm, wonder what the reasoning with that is? All the disposable one-note characters that populate horror films are here. The very bland male (Jason Ritter) lead looks remarkably like a Matt LeBlanc Jr., which could explain the incredible amount of blandness he exhibits. Rowland, she of Destiny and her children, plays the sassy best friend to our virginal protagonist.
Actually, the character and actress that most grew on me was Gibb played by Katherine Isabelle. She previously starred in Ginger Snaps, a really good Canadian horror flick about teen girls and werewolves (you know how teen girls are). This made it so much more surprising when the movie put her in a sequence where it appeared date rape was going to save her life. That’s probably a movie first.
Of course with a movie title like Freddy vs. Jason ya gotta have some hearty versus action. And its during these moments when the Gloved One and the Solemn Goalie duke it out that the film is really cooking with gas. The battles between these two are brutal, but also brutally entertaining. When they get to their final showdown, limbs hacked off, blood spewing like caramel geysers, and these two weary fighters are still going at it, then you know youre getting your moneys worth.
Freddy vs. Jason has the smartest collection of teens I may have ever seen in a slasher flick. They even have a round table discussion summarizing the plot and connecting the dots rather easily. “Jason was killed by water and Freddy was killed by fire. Maybe we can use that.” They don’t. It’s never mentioned again. But just the fact that this group is dissecting their situation calls out for a gold star. Theres a lot of dropped storylines here, like the father who may or may not have killed under Freddy’s influence. He just kind of drops in and out whenever necessary. Theres even a stoner character that wears a knit cap, has long wavy blonde hair, and spews forth profanities. I call criminal negligence for aping Jason Mewes (he the Jay part of Kevin Smith’s Jay and Silent Bob).
Freddy vs. Jason is nothing more than throw-away, trashy fun, but it’s a good way to waste an afternoon. I cant recall any other movie I verbally said ”Hell yeah” aloud during. The scene prompting this utterance was when a secondary character tries impaling Jason with an American flag. Yes, an American flag. I think that may deserve a second ”Hell yeah” but I’m currently undecided. Fans of the slasher genre will love this film, and fans of somewhat self-referential old school horror will get a kick too. Ill say this; I wouldn’t mind seeing the rematch.
Nate’s Grade: B-
28 Days Later (2003)
Zombies have generally seemed one of the little brothers of the horror genre. Certainly not as complicated or Freudian as Frankenstein or Jekyll and Hyde, and no where near as seductive as vampires and werewolves. Zombies are stumbling, bumbling cement-shoe wearing monsters. Theyre usually conduits for some kind of social message, like George Romeros classic Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead. The scary part of zombies is the methodical eventuality they exhibit. They may be stupid, they may be slow, and they may be really stupid, but theyll keep coming. They’re dead and they got no where to be. And there’s the pull – that they will eventually get you. You’ll give in, something will happen, and they’ll seize upon that unfortunate misstep (I did an extensive paper on the symbolism of zombies in Romero’s films and the connections between religion and horror. I think I deleted it though, so this is the best analysis you’re gonna get). Now there’s director Danny Boyle’s indie horror flick, 28 Days Later, which gives the zombie genre a few good shocks to the system.
We open up with stark television clips of violence, genocide, and all around mayhem around the world. Its basically what the cable news stations are now, except in this case, the viewership of these broadcasts are monkeys. Yes, it seems that the British government is experimenting on the nature of rage by strapping monkeys onto slabs and forcing them, A Clockwork Orange style, to watch all kinds of icky video. Animal rights activists break into the facility and plan on freeing the primate prisoners. A lab assistant tries to deter the monkey theft. He says alarmingly that the animals are infected with rage (as are most drivers it seems), and that this infection is highly contagious. The animal rights activists scoff at his concern and open the cages to the primates. For their altruistic virtues the activists are instantly attacked, bitten, mauled (can one be mauled by monkeys? It just seems like bears and lions have a monopoly on this verb) and infected with this deadly rage disease. This is likely the worst PR set-back for the animal rights activists since PETA clubbed baby seals. Look it up.
Flash to the titular 28 days later. Jim (Cillian Murphy) comes to in a hospital bed, and like previous films, Boyle finds an outlet to shoehorn in some full-frontal male nudity. Its almost like a directors trademark. Jims a bike messenger and has been in a coma for about, oh, lets just say for the sake of it, 28 days. Jim wanders through the vacant hospital calling out for anyone. He hits the streets of London to find them startlingly empty, like some Twilight Zone episode. City kiosks are papered with numerous pictures for missing relatives or good-bye letters. A scattered newspaper says London has been evacuated. Jim meets two other survivors, Mark (Noah Huntley) and Selena (Naomie Harris). They wax chunky exposition to tell us what we already know: the virus got out, spread rapidly, is transmitted through the blood. Selena does have more unsettling news about the nature of the disease. It turns out that once infected a person has about 10-20 seconds of rational thought left before they fully turn into the rabid, crazed not-dead zombies. Jim demands to see his parents and the two agree to lead him to his home in the morning.
The next morning the surviving trio trek through the empty streets and residential areas. Jim enters his home calling out for his parents. He immediately has to cover his nose with his shirt sleeve. He walks into his parents bedroom to find both curled up next to each other long dead. On the nightstand are a bottle of wine and a slew of pills. His mother holds a picture of Jim as a child. On the back Jim reads: “We left you sleeping. Now we’ll be with you again.” At the bottom it says, ”Don’t wake up.” Jim is devastated.
They find refuge in the apartment building of a Frank (Brendan Gleeson) and his daughter Hannah (Megan Burns). The two have been surviving since the outbreak. Frank is delighted to find other survivors. He shares a radio message he picked up. The message, though slightly garbled, is from a military base a ways away. They say they have discovered the answer for infection and will provide shelter for any survivors. The foursome pack up their belongings in Franks car and head for the military base with a new sense of hope.
The cinematography of 28 Days Later is wonderful. It’s the best I’ve ever seen digital video. The choice of shooting on that medium also amplifies the horror and creates a more immediate sense of danger. The musical score could have been written by one of those popular Brit-rock bands. It’s propulsive, effectively building, and wonderfully sonic.
Harris is the star of the film, whether the makers know this or not. Shes one tough cookie but also reflects great moments of vulnerability as she opens up to the group and starts kindling some feelings for Jim. Gleeson is one of the best character actors out there, as evidence by a great turn in Scorsese’s Gangs of New York. Acting is never the strongest suit for horror flicks but 28 Days Later has some nice exceptions to this norm.
28 Days Later has a resonating sense of truth to it, if that can be said about apocalyptic cinema. When one character regrettably becomes infected they order their fellows to stand back, but before succumbing they say, Just know that I love you. This felt so genuine to me. Like if a comet was hurtling to decimate the planet within seconds, and your loved ones were around you, would you not act the same way? How does one compress all their feelings and appreciation and love in closing seconds? Something tells me its something like what is displayed in 28 Days Later.
Boyle, as has been ingrained into me from the blurb-heavy ads, has indeed reinvented zombie horror. However, what you may not know is that zombie horror doesn’t exactly have many titles to it. I think I’ve already mentioned most of them. Boyles zombies aren’t dead, just infected human beings. They don’t move at that lumbering drag-your-feet speed of classic zombie lore, no these not-so-undead move with great velocity and ferocity, like rabid junkyard dogs. The new touches here and there provide some interesting dynamics to the genre.
Perhaps what is different than most zombie films is that the audience grows to like the characters and root for their survival. In most horror films the characters are either too stupid or sketchy that it allows the audience to wait in amusement for their eventual horrific deaths. Its simple: we want to see these people die because its titillating (Maybe I was wrong about all the zombie analysis I still had in my head).
Boyle does service a slight message in his zombie film when the group gets to the military base. Perhaps, he muses, our military and trusted leaders are no better than those rabidly wandering the streets. The idea of a thriller set against a biological pandemic also feels very timely and relevant. The film kind of drags in the middle during the stretch between London and the military base. And the end was a bit too much Die Hard for my taste, but is suitably climactic.
Boyle has crafted a creepy, smart, and engrossing piece of entertainment. I hope people dont confuse this film with that Sandra Bullock clunker, 28 Days. They may be spending the entire time wondering where shirtless Viggo is and when Bullock will start her endless pratfalls (You knew I was going to talk about that movie somewhere).
Nate’s Grade: B
Dreamcatcher (2003)
Stephen King movie adaptations are usually a mixed bag. For every Carrie there’s a Sleep Walkers or a Sometimes They Come Back. Let’s not even discuss how many straight-to-video Children of the Corn releases there are (the answer, of course, is far too many). So what can we expect from a novel that featured butt weasels?
Dreamcatcher centers on four friends and their annual hunting trip in the woods recounting an earlier time when they befriended a mentally retarded child who would later give each of them psychic gifts. At the same time it appears an alien invasion is nearby, the military are to quarantine the area, and the lost hunter has expelled a bloody serpentine-like creature from his bowels. What does it add up to? The craziest spring break ever man!
There are several moments in Dreamcatcher where you think to yourself, ”Well, it can’t possibly get more stupid,” and yet the movie routinely will find a way. It doesn’t know when to stop. Just when you think the bottom of the Stupid Hole has been hit, here comes an alien possession where the alien uses a freaking British accent (and actually says the word ”guvna,” proving to be the most dangerous interstellar chimney sweep). The only reason I knew what was going on was because I read the book over the summer.
The story is a mixture of different King staples: schmaltzy coming-of-age buddy stuff (It), alien invasions (Tommyknockers), gory monsters (take your pick). Dreamcatcher feels like a Stephen King greatest hits tape. The different narrative elements have great trouble gelling, as you can only segue from mentally challenged boy with mystical powers to crazy Morgan Freeman shootin’ up slimy aliens so often. The story does not work and has too many leftover bits it doesn’t know what to do with. Dreamcatcher is a proverbial square peg being jammed into a round hole.
The movie shows some promise in its opening, displaying the camaraderie of actors Thomas Jane, Jason Lee, Damien Lewis and Timothy Olyphant (a younger looking Bill Paxton if I ever saw one). The notion of the memory warehouse is a fun idea that is used for nice comic touches.
Director/co-writer Lawrence Kasdan has written some of the most exciting films of the past 25 years, and screenwriter William Goldman is an old hand at adapting King (having done the masterful Misery and the mawkish Hearts in Atlantis). So what in the world went so horrendously wrong? For starters, the book is a whopping 620 pages and would be more suited in the frame of mini-series. Condensed into a messy two-hour movie, Dreamcatcher is sloppy with its pacing and scope. The movie drags for an eternity and then makes a mad dash at a finish (I wont spoil its unbelievable awfulness but will say it veers SHARPLY from the novel).
The most interesting part of the novel, for me, was the second half that involved the alien (Mr. Gray) taking over the body of Jonesy (Lewis). What kept me reading was Mr. Gray finding a liking to human temptations like bacon and, later, murder. Seeing Mr. Gray become intoxicated with humanity and perplexed by it at the same time was interesting. Sadly, all you get in the movie is the British accent and some goofy faces as Lewis holds two conversations in one person.
Few movies come along that are as incredibly stupid as Dreamcatcher. I cant exactly recommend it for this quality. They are playing that Matrix cartoon after it (my theater showed it before the film started). It looks like a video game and features a woman doing flips and sword fighting in a thong, because, quite simply, that’s what women do in these things. It’s not really that good either.
Nate’s Grade: D
The Ring (2002)
So have you heard the one about the videotape where you die seven days after you watch it? No it isn’t a new late fee ploy by Blockbuster. It’s the great premise for the entertaining new horror movie The Ring. After you watch this eerie video your phone rings. A raspy voice on the other end tells you that you have seven days, then, one week later to the minute, you die. How cool is that?
Seattle reporter Rachel Keller (Naomi Watts) learns of this urban legend at the funeral of her teenage niece, who died suddenly and mysteriously. Through research she observes that her niece’s three friends all died at the same hour on the same day, though through different circumstances. She recovers pictures of the four of them at a campsite, where they had watched the video, except their faces are blurred in pictures taken after they had watched the tape.
The Ring has its shares of creepy scares but midway in it makes an unexpected turn. Rachel, being the good journalist she is, goes to the camp and pops in the dreaded videotape. She watches it and makes us watch it too! Afterwards, working against the death clock here, she tries piecing together clues left on in the tape’s grisly and stark images to solve the mystery of who is behind it. It’s at this moment that The Ring turns into an extended beyond-the-grave episode of Law & Order.
As with most mysteries, the intrigue and questions are more interesting than the eventual answers. As Rachel’s investigation picks up steam we start to lose interest. Of course it wouldn’t be a supernatural thriller these days without a Sixth Sense-like twerpy kid. This one features Rachel’s son (who looks like the lost Culkin child) who has premonitions of death.
Watts, who wowed critics with her breakout role as the good girl/bad girl in Mullholland Drive, is luminescent as a leading lady. Watts can deliver parts passion, fright, curiosity and concern without blinking an eyelash. She is an exciting actress to see develop.
The Ring is directed with a vibrant sense of foreboding by Gore Verbinski (The Mexican). He delivers some definite cover-your-eyes moments but also creates a wonderful atmosphere of fear throughout with illuminating visuals. There is an absence of gore and any real violence, just an emphasis on intense atmosphere like what the classic horror films would achieve.
The scares that The Ring can conjure are genuine and the film has a nightmarish undertone to it. This Hollywood remake of the Japanese cult classic can stand on its own legs with confidence, even with an overextended ending that you may require initiating another person to explain to you. So, anyone want to watch a killer movie?
Nate’s Grade: B
Halloween: Resurrection (2002)
So, what could be timelier than releasing a Halloween slasher film around
July? The plot (i.e. flimsy device to set up killing horny teenagers by) is something that you might actually see on MTVs Fear show. Busta Rhymes is the head of an online entertainment company and has proposed a contest where the lucky few get to spend a night in the creakily and poorly lit house of serial killer Michael Myers. Their prize seems to be nothing more than the notoriety of being seen live on the net. College student Sara Moyer (Bianca Kajlich) is one of the lucky winners along with her stars-in-her-eyes gal pal and culinary obsessed friend (Save the Last Dance’s Sean Patrick Thomas). Some other people get picked including the requisite smart girl and weird guy. And then there’s the horn dog played by the insufferable Thomas Ian Nicholas of American Pie fame. For some randomly selected process its kind of odd that three people who are all good friends got picked. Eh, oh well.
Anyway, the kids go exploring through the decrepit remains of the house with cameras strapped to their heads. Why the house wasn’t knocked down after the first baker’s dozen of murders is anyones guess. The kids try and look for any clues to explain the psychological nature of Mr. Hack-N-Slash. Michael Myers eventually makes a homecoming complete with his favorite set of cutlery and goes to town. People go missing and eventually the participants, with Busta at the wheel, figure out that this whole thing ain’t make believe.
Now this movie could have been a lot worse, although the scene where Myers kills a cameraman with a tripod leg is dearly pushing it. Jamie Lee Curtis even shows up for about five minuets in the beginning before having an early confrontation with Myers. Let’s just say that Curtis seemed to want out bad, and realistically who can blame her?
I realize there are certain leaps of logic when even entering into the darkened theater to take in a slasher flick, but Halloween: Resurrection doesn’t just defy logic, it slaps you across the face with it like a cold fish. Myers is no super human entity, to the contrary, and should actually be pushing 50. But man, can he still jump out of walls needlessly like the Kool-Aid man. And can he still dangle from poles with one arm like a champ. Talk about upper body strength.
There’s a scene toward the beginning of the film in the basement of the mental hospital Jamie Lee resides in. Two guards retreat down there and one of them stops to purchase a vending machine goodie while the other goes ahead only to meet his doom. The lone guard now timidly searches around the nearby laundry machines and discovers his colleagues head inside the tumbling machine. If you look closely, and do some marginal thinking, youll find out that in order to achieve this spook Mr. Myers actually had to put money into the laundry machine. Talk about your commitment to fear.
This whole bloody ordeal is streamed live across the Internet with something like 50 camera choices. Now the Internet, if no one told you, is not exactly a small thing. Wouldn’t someONE someWHERE be watching one of the camera angles where they DO happen to see the killings and phone someone? Maybe everyone in the world just has a dial-up modem. You must realize that this bare-bones cheesy reality show concept was likely from everyone making a movie as they went along.
Let’s face it folks, the thrill of this whole thing is gone. Somewhere along the way, I’m guessing 1983, the whole concept just got stagnant and poorly executed. But now with the rise (or resurrection if you will) of the slasher genre in our post-irony world we get things like Jason in Space! And Michael Myers in an episode of MTVs Fear! The draw is supposed to be the tightly wound suspense but, and maybe it’s just me, where is the suspense when you could care less about the cheese-heads that are supposed to be the heroes and you KNOW what’s going to happen to them?
Busta Rhymes, the thespian, is going to need more time to hone his craft. LL Cool J took up the rapper-come-Halloween-victim role in the last film, 1998’s Halloween: H20 (which flagrantly did not take place underwater at all). To compare the acting prowess of the two rappers is like questioning the cooking ability of the Star Trek starship captains. It’s just very inconsequential and should never be asked rightfully. Tyra Banks is in this movie for some reason even though her scenes account for about a weekend of work. Everyone else in the cast is forgettable, even the cute Uma Thurman-looking redhead who has the most head-scratching nude scene in an underground crypt.
Halloween: Resurrection is sloppy, dumb and above all things not scary. It seems Michael Myers is the ultimate boogey man – he’s survived seven straight duds.
Nate’s Grade: C-
Mulholland Drive (2001)
Mulholland Dr. has had a long and winding path to get to the state it is presented today. In the beginning it was 120 minutes of a pilot for ABC, though it was skimmed to 90 for the insertion of commercials. But ABC just didn’t seem to get it and declined to pick up David Lynch’s bizarre pilot. Contacted by the French producers of Lynch’s last film, The Straight Story, it was then financed to be a feature film. Lynch went about regathering his cast and filming an additional twenty minutes of material to be added to the 120-minute pilot. And now Mulholland Dr. has gone on to win the Best Director award at Cannes and Best Picture by the New York Film Critics Association.
Laura Harring plays a woman who survives a car crash one night. It appears just before a speeding car full of reckless teens collided into her limo she was intended to be bumped off. She stumbles across the dark streets of Hollywood and finds shelter in an empty apartment where she rests. Betty Elms (Naomi Watts) is a young girl that just got off the bus to sunny California with aspirations of being a big time movie star. She enters her aunt’s apartment to find a nude woman (Harring) in the shower. She tells Betty her name is Rita after glancing at a hanging poster of Rita Hayworth. Rita is suffering from amnesia and has no idea who she is, or for that fact, why her purse is full of thousands of dollars. Betty eagerly wants to help Rita discover who she is and they set off trying to unravel this mystery.
Across town, young hotshot director Adam Kesher (Justin Theroux) is getting ready to go into production for his new film. He angers his mob producers by refusing to cast their chosen girl for his movie. After some harassment, threats, and a visit by an eyebrow-less cowboy assassin (God bless you David Lynch), he relents.
In the meanwhile, people are tracking the streets looking for Rita. Betty and Rita do some detective work and begin amassing clues to her true identify. As they plunge further into their investigation the two also plunge into the roles of lovers. Rita discovers a mysterious blue box and key in her possession. After a night out with Betty she decides to open it, and just when she does and the audience thinks it has a hold on the film, the camera zooms into the abyss of the box and our whole world is turned upside down.
David Lynch has made a meditation on dreams, for that is at the heart of Mulholland Dr. His direction is swift and careful and his writing is just as precise. The noir archetypes are doing battle with noir expectations. The lesbian love scenes could have been handled to look like late night Cinemax fluff, but instead Lynch’s finesse pays off in creating some truly erotic moments. Despite the population of espresso despising mobsters, wheelchair bound dwarfs, and role-reversal lesbians, the audience knows that it is in hands that they can trust. It’s Lynch back to his glorious incomprehensible roots.
Watts is the true breakthrough of Lynch’s casting and she will surely be seen in more films. Watts has to play many facets of possibly the same character, from starry-eyed perky Nancy Drew to a forceful and embittered lesbian lover.
One scene stands out as a perfect example of the talent Watts possesses. Betty has just been shuffled off to an audition for a film and rehearsing with Rita all morning. She’s introduced to her leathery co-star and the directors await her to play out the audition scene of two kids and their forbidden love. As soon as the scene begins Betty vanishes and is totally inhabited by the spirit of her character. She speaks her lines in a breathy, yet whisper-like, voice running over with sensuality but also elements of power. In this moment the characters know, as the audience does, that Betty and Naomi Watts are born movie stars.
It’s not too difficult for a viewer to figure out what portions of the film are from the pilot and what were shot afterwards. I truly doubt if ABC’s standards and practices allows for lesbian sex. The pilot parts seem to have more sheen to them and simpler camera moves, nothing too fancy. The additional footage seems completely opposite and to great effect. Mulholland Dr. has many plot threads that go nowhere or are never touched upon again, most likely parts that were going to be reincorporated with the series.
The truly weirdest part of Mulholland Drive is that the film seems to be working best when it actually is still the pilot. The story is intriguing and one that earns its suspense, mystery, and humor that oozes from this noir heavy dreamscape. The additional twenty minutes of story could be successfully argued one of two ways. It could be said it’s there just to confound an audience and self-indulgent to the good story it abandons. It could also be argued that the ending is meticulously thought out and accentuates the 120 minutes before it with more thought and understanding.
Mulholland Dr. is a tale that would have made an intriguing ongoing television series complete with ripe characters and drama. However, as a movie it still exceeds in entertainment but seems more promising in a different venue.
Nate’s Grade: B
Reviewed 20 years later as part of the “Reviews Re-View: 2001” article.
Jeepers Creepers (2001)
Victor Salva’s last picture was the overwrought Powder and now he follows it up with something the complete opposite of intellectual meditation –teen horror. With the Screams of the world drenching scares in irony and hipness it’s good to see an old fashioned horror flick that might actually generate real scares.
Jeepers Creepers starts off slow but methodical, with a slight nod to the old horror of the 70s where the mood was slowly and maturely built layer by layer. See brother and sister are traveling back home from their colleges together and have taken the long route across the nation’s empty plains and small towns. Their relationship is entertaining and, to a point, refreshing in how accurate they seem as siblings with their playful bickering. Upon their journey they almost get run off the road by a mad trucker driving what must have been the second car for the Munsters. After a moment to catch their breaths they begin once more driving. Further down the road they see the same truck parked at an abandoned church with a dark figure tossing something down a pipe – something awfully close to resembling a body. Some curious investigation reveals an entire church basement full of hundreds of mutilated corpses.
The two panic and run off to seek the authorities but now this figure, whatever it is, is on their trail. Of course the police just roll their eyes to their incoherent ramblings. Of course they gets hacked for their lack of faith. And of course there will be a babbling woman with some kind of psychic powers that tries to help the kids stop the monster. It pretty much gets textbook form here on out.
Jeepers Creepers is one-third a very interesting and genuinely scary movie, and then two thirds crap. It’s such a shame too because of the incredible promise the first 20 minutes showed. After that point the movie descends into the standard Boogeyman-chasing-teenagers flick. The “monster” of Creepers would have best been not shown than actually revealed. The film is spooky when all you see is a dark figure, but when the creature finally gets its close-up it’s nothing more than a patchwork Freddy Krueger with Spalding Grey’s hair.
Francis Ford Coppala produced this film so he must have saw something in it. But he likely only saw the first twenty minutes. Jeepers Creepers is for the most part a fun movie but it can’t help being a large disappointment. This is because the film could have been something so much greater than what it is, and even shows it in flashes but then takes the easy well-tread road instead.
Nate’s Grade: C+
Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2 (2000)
Let’s openly admit it from the start … there’s no way the people behind this could win. The Blair Witch Project was a phenomenon in indie cinema that likely will never be seen again. The movie certainly didn’t need a sequel, and probably couldn’t be easily hatched with its cracker-jack ending anyway. We, as a nation, are not only expecting any Blair Witch sequels to fail; hell, we’re demanding it. This is the state my mind I waded in as I started to see Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2.
Burkitsville Maryland has become quite a hotspot for tourism because of the success of The Blair Witch Project. Local residents sell items such as rocks and stick figures to jabbering tourists, some of whom have come overseas. This is where our tour guide Jeff (Jeff Donovon) enters. He leads our band of characters into a tour of the Maryland woods. Each of his campers has their own reason for going. There’s the engaged couple with Guy (Stephen Baker turner) as the skeptic and realist, and Girl (Tristine Skyler) as the supernatural believer. Then there’s Wicca gal (Erica Leerhson) who’s out to disprove the bad reputation of the Blair Witch. Finally, there’s pseudo-psychic Goth girl (Kim Director) who really has no purpose except to wear pancake makeup and whine about how she’s unfairly treated by society for dressing in black.
This motley crew of slacker backpackers spends a night in the woods and turns it into something that you would see advertised during a commercial for Howard Stern. The alcohol mixes with the drugs and the next morning no one can remember a thing. Their surveillance equipment is destroyed and Guy’s lengthy paper is littering the ground like snow (it must have been over a 1000 pages for the amount that continuously falls). Accusations fly, and after a brief stay in a hospital occupied with ghostly images of dead children, the group decides to take refuge in Jeff’s secluded residence. It just so happens that it’s an empty warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Perfect setting for scary things to jumps out at people, and they do. The remainder of the movie is spooky shenanigans happening in this big bad haunted house until the mandatory muddled ending.
Book of Shadows (some studio exec must have tacked it on because it sounded “cool” since it has nothing to do with anything) takes off promisingly enough. The first ten minutes show the effect the first film had on the community and the fans with a mock-documentary fashion. Then it’s over quickly and we get a glossy film, a 20 million dollar budget and Marilyn Manson scraping his larynx or killing an owl on the soundtrack. Can you say “corporate fast buck”? I know I did. The sequel to the soggy backpack adventure of indie fame bears little resemblance to its predecessor. The only common line between the two is an assortment of unknown actors starring, which isn’t necessarily a good practice for every movie
None of the characters in Book of Shadows are truly interesting at all. Surprisingly enough though, they have an intelligent conversation about the blame of media and how it can affect others’ will. This, as should be guessed, is the high point of the film. It makes little difference that the most intelligent conversation in the film occurs when everyone is wasted and high by camp light.
The first movie was by no stretch a lesson in horror but it was innovative and relied on a practice of creating horror in your mind, which I can at least admire. Blair Witch 2 has no scares in it whatsoever. It has gore, blood, and things that are thought of as scary: bats, darkness, mean dogs, dead children, insane asylum kooks etc. Problem is none of these things work. They’re all textbook but they never work in execution.
Blair Witch 2 was directed by documentary filmmaker Joe Berlinger. He co-created the truly excellent and gripping Paradise Lost films over the hysteria and blame that convicted Gothic teens in Arkansas of murder. It’s easy to see some similar themes in Blair Witch 2, which include a Goth crying out against the way she’s seen and treated and a Wicca crying out against the way she’s seen and treated. They’re carryovers from his earlier works. But Berlinger’s first step up to fictional direction is really a step down. He’s so good at storytelling and underscoring tension and drama in his documentaries, so what went wrong? I think it was probably studio interference (look at the title), but Berlinger may just not be up to snuff for fictional film. Which is fine because he’s one of the best documentary filmmakers alive next to Errol Morris, Michael Moore, and Barbara Koppel. Berlinger will bounce back but he may not want to make a fictional film again.
The way the story is told is in different layers cut together from different times. It’s interesting enough and sets up some mild foreshadowing but by the end, when it makes it clear who will survive and who won’t, it becomes annoying. The ending crawls along and presents two possible scenarios (spoilers): one; it invalidates everything before and shows the nature of humans with hysteria and their own capabilities for evil (better ending), and two; some supernatural force interfered and did bad stuff (boo!). Reluctantly I think most people will go with ending number two. The understanding of the ending is too fundamental toward the enjoyment of this film. This further muddles the whole film and the reason for even watching it.
The flick initially took me by surprise but then left me muddled in confusion that has yet to cease. Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2 is a conundrum of a film. It’s really not very entertaining or innovative. In fact, it’s really not that great at all. It will be interesting to see how people receive this film with years of distance. I think it could be kindle an interesting film class discussion on the pressures of following up a phenomenon. Studio execs certainly had their say and certainly wanted Blair Witch bucks, but the public is older and wiser, and repackaging the same old tricks will not work the same. Owls, dead children, and shadows of friggin’ stick figures will not scare an audience without a story. Of course, after Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2 bombed so succinctly, the ones left horrified were the studio executives. The public had the last laugh.
Nate’s Grade: C-




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