Child's Play (Tom Holland 1988) Having caught a few of the films from this series in passing, I expected the worst from the original. However, the film plays the crazy scenario as straight as it probably ever can be played, and the film indeed goes out of the way to play down any comical tones. The film is surprisingly effective, especially in its first half when poor Catharine Hicks is put through the wringer and not the young child actor. That said, I have no desire whatsoever to visit the sequels-- I think I'm finally learning my lesson!
the Craft (Andrew Fleming 1996) Fleming is responsible for one of the best films I've seen for this project (Bad Dreams) and one of the funniest satires in memory (Dick). So I was no doubt setting myself up for a letdown. But, boy, this is such a muddled and weirdly innocuous mess! Imagine all the satiric possibilities inherent in the idea of a teenage coven of witches and then dash them away for bad mid-90s horror blah-ness and safe targets, because that's all the Craft conjures. There's one original moment in the film that feels like an Andrew Fleming contribution and not just work-for-hire: The white trash mother of one of the girls inherits a small fortune and subsequently buys herself a jukebox which only plays Connie Francis records. Note how the most interesting part of the film involves neither witchcraft nor any of the main characters.
Cursed (Wes Craven 2005) Kevin Williamson and Wes Craven team up again, though God only knows why it had to be for this shockingly bad CGI werewolf fest. I will admit that the novelty of seeing Jesse Eisenberg in a horror movie got me through this (Guess I need to see Zombieland), but there's nothing else of value here, not even the wasted Craig Kilborn cameo. I watched the "unrated" DVD version, not the initially released PG-13 version, so I guess those wanting to see a bunch of extra CGI blood and beheadings would be wise to do the same.
Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (John Newland 1973) William Demarest in a painter's cap going up against Victorian-era gremlins is of course universal in its appeal, but as with Gargoyles, I think I had to be in the target viewing audience upon its original airing to really have any response above a shrug to the rest.
the Dorm That Dripped Blood AKA Death Dorm AKA Pranks AKA Zzzzz (Stephen Carpenter and Jeffrey Obrow 1982) Wanna hear something really scary? Somehow this shitty, often actually unwatchable movie has enough popular cachet to justify a Blu-ray release. AHHHHHHHHH!!!
Final Destination (James Wong 2000) One of the last post-Scream teen horror films to make waves, this slasher cleverly reduces the needs of the genre so far down down that it renders the ubiquity of a physical killer superfluous. Unfortunately the film doesn't take its high concept into any surprising arenas. Most of the famed elaborate deaths are caused by unseen external forces (who love their W elements), not merely compounded incidentals, which effectively dulls their novelty and impact. The film does fleetingly touch on a topic of interest in the varied reactions of the survivors to their savior, and there could have been a better movie made in these moments without the Grim Repo's handiwork. All complaints of this film, of course, seem less pressing and it's practically masterful in contrast to the immediate sequel!
Final Destination 2 (David R Ellis 2003) This is a lot closer to how sight-unseen I imagined the series: Loud and obnoxiously protracted death sequences occasionally punctuated with plot. This is a particularly uninspired sequel, breaking all known rules and setting up ludicrous and dull misdirections until it becomes clear that the filmmakers are merely fucking with the audience, and not in a way benefitting their film. This method works in their favor exactly once
SpoilerShow
When they set up a slew of uninteresting and bland teens as the new set of victims and then have a truck plow through most of them post-premonition
Final Destination 3 (James Wong 2006) I went into this series out of morbid curiosity and only got this far because I bought the first three Blu-rays and figured I might as well get my money's worth. So you'll forgive me if I'm a bit flabbergasted at how great Final Destination 3 is-- not just comparatively to its worthless brethren but as a horror movie in general. Also, being more or less self-contained (there are fleeting references to the events of the first film), it is not necessary to watch the first two to enjoy it. Here, finally, is a film that completely plays by the rules and is all the scarier for it. Every single accidental death in this film is unaided by the supernatural, the focus fully shifted to being a giddily creative collection of the ultimate Wrong Place, Wrong Time experiences ever, and for the first time the violence and danger packs a punch. It's stylish (the 'Scope screen is wisely utilized and filled), well-made and acted (Mary Elizabeth Winstead brings a somber weight to the film as the first character in one of these things to actually behave recognizably human), and despite being the darkest of the films, it has a cruel but effective sense of humor (a tricky balance, as the failures of the first two films show).
Another entry for the sublist of horror films with sequences that could double as effective self-contained shorts, the film opens with one of the finest action sequences I can recall, addressing the fleeting safety fears of roller coasters with terrifying specificity. It's a virtuoso sequence that left me physically trembling in its wake-- I'm not scared of amusement park rides any more than I am of flying or the highway, but the filmmakers convincingly employ computer and practical effects, sound design, and editing in the most epic derailment this side of the Greatest Story Ever Told, forming a pulse-pounding realization of a nightmare I never knew I had. How wonderful that the ability to be fully stimulated by a special effects light show still exists!
The film trips over itself to top the opening as the survivors are yes, of course, picked off one by one by… well, as I said, nothing. The first two films were about fate and the hand of some divine power-- theistic films. Final Destination 3 says there's nothing guiding us to our destruction but our own actions and the actions of others. If we owe a debt to the world (in the abstract), sure it will collect… but then again, of course it will-- we all die. In a weird way, this entry for once plays completely fair, especially in how it takes the logic of the given scenario all the way down to its inevitably bitter end, and as a result the film proves most cruel of all. One of the best films I've seen for this project, and certainly the biggest pleasant surprise.
Going to Pieces: the Rise and Fall of the Slasher Film (N/A 2006) I'm in the middle of the source book now, but this documentary has only a passing resemblance to its namesake and is little more than a made for TV collection of talking heads all fawning over themselves. I was glad I put off watching this 'til after I'd gotten through the brunt of the films covered, because the doc spoils without warning the endings of Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Prom Night, April Fool's Day, Scream, Friday the 13th, Happy Birthday to Me, Graduation Day, and Terror Train (the last two I hadn't seen yet, though-- d'oh!), among others.
Hatchet (Adam Green 2007) / Hatchet II (Adam Green 2010) Outside of the novelty of seeing sitcom C-stringers like Joel Murray and Richard Riehle within a slasher film, the first Hatchet offers only amateurish and overly violent attempts at reclaiming the spirit of Friday the 13th's middle run, as though that were an advisable activity. However, the first film literally has no ending, so I felt compelled to seek out its sequel despite not much enjoying the original. This is one of those "teachable moments" I keep hearing about: Don't watch Hatchet II. Stop. Don't. No. No no no no no no. No.
Where to even begin? Well, despite picking up immediately where its precursor left off, the Final Girl is now played by a "scream queen" (quoting Wikipedia here) who bears a close resemblance to Fisher Stevens and has exactly one acting mode: whining. Oh, but if only she were the film's biggest problem! The first film was an ill-conceived but passable scrape at the folk tale slasher made popular in the 80s that nevertheless ground everything to a halt to display its disgusting special effects. Now those gross-out effects are all that's carried over. The sequel, ever eager to increase its body count, even features a slaughter montage early on, in which horrible things are depicted with the flippancy of alleged irony but none of the wit or humor required to make the gruesome events palatable. I've found in my viewings for this project that most of these films are fairly innocuous and say less about the audience than the economics of their production, but here's the rare and sad exception. I pray to God that I never meet face to face with anyone who thinks a "funny" or "super cool" filmic moment involves the following:
A blonde is participating in degrading sex in the middle of the swamp (in the middle of a manhunt, no less). She begs her partner to tell her he loves her. After his feeble attempts to avoid the issue (while still mounting her), he is decapitated. His headless body still gyrates into the woman as she moans with pleasure. Eventually she discovers her predicament, dismounts the corpse, and attempts to run away. This attempt is halted by the killer, who reaches under her skirt and viciously swings his hatchet up through her legs, penetrating her vagina with his weapon. He then hacks his hatchet so deep between her breasts that he has trouble removing the tool from within her shattered ribcage despite many attempts to set it free. This entire sequence is filmed with the same "serious" CSI-style color timing as the rest of the film and is no way presented with anything approaching lightness or comedy, only sad and gratuitous attention to its mean-spirited violence.
If this is indeed the film that saved the horror genre, as one of the cards that runs after the credits claims, at what cost?
the House on Sorority Row (Mark Rosman 1983) As I've said before, it only takes a film like this being a little bit better than its brethren to generate a fair amount of good will, and this is thankfully an effective variation of a familiar story that humanizes its victims, presents them within an increasingly manic plot device, and never lingers on the violence or pain inflicted. The climax features one of the all time great hidden villain reveals as well.
May (Lucky McKee 2002) --mfunk9786 Spotlight-- Fascinating and slickly-made character study of a deeply damaged young woman whose social awkwardness and anxieties have rendered her not just cracked but shattered-- and as the film's visual metaphor explains, you can't glue a thousand shards of glass back into a display case anymore than May can be helped. As the film barrels deeper and deeper into the psychosis of the titular character, it only bolsters the empathy of the viewer to this poor woman who was probably beyond help long before the rejections and alienations pushed her over the edge. Credit to Angela Bettis for her striking portrayal and McKee for his sure hand in letting the downslide unfold towards its inevitable yet weirdly sweet culmination. Great Spotlight, mfunk (and LQ, I presume), this is a film I would not have sought out on my own, and now it's making my list.
Mystery of the Wax Museum (Michael Curtiz 1933) One of the breezier horror flicks of the early thirties, this is a light but enjoyable run-through of the familiar murderous wax museum proprietor story. Fay Wray gets higher billing but this is Glenda Farrell's movie and she has a ball doing her wisecracking newspaper woman thing.
Prom Night (Paul Lynch 1980) In a genre so defined by heritage, it's of some interest to finally see one of the slasher blueprints. I thought the film cleverly played on the expectations of Halloween in its escaped mental patient red herring, and there's some attempts made at characterization. Also, it's interesting to note that the first victim is actually the girl who doesn't give it up-- I guess the slasher Xeroxers conveniently overlooked that part when carboning the morality of the rest. That being said, the eventual reveal isn't nearly as dramatic as the film wishes and all the scenes of stalking and slaughter pale to the extended self-contained sequence of Jamie Lee Curtis and date disco dancing on the dance-floor. Imagine if the copycats had brought the tradition of a dance sequence into their ripoffs!
Scream (Wes Craven 1996) While perhaps not quite as clever or original as it thinks it is (this is not the first slasher to be self-referential or reflexive), Craven does breathe new life into his own bag of tricks thanks to Kevin Williamson's star-making script. Though it's directly responsible for the mid-90s wave of teen-centered horror films and thus ranks as one of the most important and influential films of the decade, it succumbs once too often to its own bag of sloppy tricks for me to completely co-sign its fevered fandom. I will say that never having actually seen Jamie Kennedy at work before, I'm convinced he's the man to play Jerry Lewis in whatever percolating biopic necessitates such ability.
Scream 2 (Wes Craven 1997) But whatever reservations I have about Scream are erased for the sequel, which immediately justifies watching the first just to pick up on the myriad of jokes this sequel makes at its expense. Frankly, this is everything I expected out of the first: It's clever, it's convoluted, it's often smart-- and even when it's dumb, it's dumb in a smart way. The references are fewer and smarter than those that weighed down the original (The single funniest moment in the film comes courtesy of a cameo-ing Joshua Jackson dropping the most esoteric answer ever to the query "Name a sequel better than the original"), mostly because Scream 2 is having too much fun tearing apart its predecessor. By the time the chain link of villainy is exposed, the movie keeps layering on complications and reveals until the film becomes a giddy Agatha Christie-esque cacophony of contrivance (a positive trait it shares with the fourth film in the series)-- and that's a compliment. I didn't really think a Wes Craven film would make my list, but here we are.
Scream 3 (Wes Craven 2000) At the end of Scream 2, I was pretty sure I'd seen everything a film like this could do with the concept and had no idea where a third film could possibly take the story. And neither did the filmmakers. This is the only entry in the franchise to not be written by Williamson, as Ehren Kruger, possibly the worst Hollywood screenwriter to still find work, was handed the reigns and boy does it show. Braindead and cheap-looking, this is a film with no reason for being, as the sequel offers a weirdly serious take on the material that kills what I assume are supposed to be the "funny" parts, rendering it all one big whatever.
Scre4m (Wes Craven 2011) If Scream 2 left me wondering what could possibly justify Scream 3, Scream 3 left me even more skeptical, especially coming over a decade after the previous installment. Much to my delight, the film does indeed have something of interest to say, and its target of horror movie remakes is inspired and timely. Also, though it's no easier to figure out whodunnit than any of the other films, the eventual reveal of the villain and their motivation is probably the most sensical of any of the films, despite being the most outlandish. Kevin Williamson gets himself and Craven back in the good graces after the debacle of Cursed with a script that made me laugh almost as much as the second. I see a lot of reviewers criticized the film for being "old fashioned," but isn't that the point?
the Serpent and the Rainbow (Wes Craven 1988) Oh man was this a bad idea. Craven is already too fond of nonsense imagery and superfluous dream sequences, so giving him the keys to a voodoo story was like letting Russ Meyer loose in a Hooters. The less said about the poor attempts at political commentary between all the soul-snatching et al, the better.
Teeth (Mitchell Lichtenstein 2008) A regrettable example of false feminism. Yes, the protagonist's body has "adapted" to ward off unwanted sexual advances (so long as those advances come vaginally), but the film still puts repeatedly puts her into positions of rape and violation, with the outcome always the same. By the end it's all one big Ha Ha Funny, as she smirks to the camera before allowing a dirty old man to violate her. The idea that all men are either deplorable over-exaggerations of negative masculine traits or "nice guys" who put on a front of understanding to mask their desire to rape a pretty girl is simplistic at best but not nearly as objectionable as the idea that the way for a woman to navigate this field is to be raped, repeatedly, and then castrate her assailant. This isn't reclaiming victimhood, it's exploiting it.
