Another Dose of Compliance

 

In this (deadly doll's) house, we celebrate the work of Kyle Gallner. 

Pay your respects and hop in.

Quick Plot: At 21 years old, Randy Bradley hasn't done much with his life. He quietly toils away at a dour burger joint where nobody even knows his first name. His pride gets a minor boost with the tease of a managerial promotion, but the moment he uses it to stand up to a jerk of a coworker, it all tumbles down. 

Being humiliated is one thing. Randy is used to it. Benson is not. 

Played by the always great Kyle Gallner, Benson is the kind of guy you don't notice. Older than the teenagers around him but seemingly even less ambitious, his presence barely registers until it explodes into a shooting spree, sparing only the terrified Randy Bradley.

Written by Jack Stanley and directed by Carter Smith, The Passenger is a fascinating film that toys with genre conventions in ways that constantly make the viewer wonder exactly what they're supposed to be feeling. Is Benson a mere homicidal sociopath or Randy's guardian angel? 

It's a more complicated question than you could possibly imagine. Randy, played beautifully by Johnny Berchtold, has his reasons for living in a whisper, but Benson is right in some regards: he does deserve to give himself more. But Randy is also a good enough person to see past Benson's Tyler Durden-y philosophizing for its own inconsistency.

Having recently rewatched The Ruins, I can now enthusiastically throw myself on the Carter Smith train. The Passenger is a completely different film in terms of story and tone, but when you put them together, you can see so many of Smith's unique strengths as a genre director, particularly in how he's able to draw such real but deeply layered characters without much exposition or background. He seems to have a genuine human touch with his work, and that goes a long way when exploring something horrific.

High Points

For such a lean film, there's quite a lot going on in terms of what's driving our characters, but with the setup The Passenger has, it's still fascinating that the primary story at the heart of the film is how Randy Bradley has spent the bulk of his life in the smallest way possible because of such an understandable guilt over having hurt someone. It's not the kind of emotion that would normally get this kind of treatment

Low Points

I don't know that I have any real complaints about The Passenger, so why not use this space to ask a question that always makes me mad: why isn't Kyle Gallner a bigger star? 

Lessons Learned

It takes a lot of energy to hate a seven year old

Fast food has far more character than a food court

Even the smallest public elementary school needs better security training for office staff

Rent/Bury/Buy

The Passenger is not a fun watch, but it's a beautifully done challenge of a film that explores some very human issues. Don't go in lightly, but do go in.

The Defense Rests

You know what horror fans love more than good horror films? Bashing stuff.

Perhaps it stems from our general lack of self-esteem or, conversely, our immaculate perfection that simply can’t be pleased. Whatever the reason, few modern examples of the genre have the power to wow or by general consensus, mildly entertain the masses of Best Buy bonus point carrying, convention attending, blog reading movie fans.

It comes as no surprise that Platinum Dunes “remake” of Wes Craven’s A Nightmare On Elm Street has landed on such fiery bouts of angry criticism. Despite the presence of well-respected Jackie Earle Haley  and a no-nonsense R-rating, few ticketbuyers expected to be pleased, and most most likely entered the crowded theaters with greasy bags of chips on their shoulders. Having despised the uninspired mess that was 2009’s Friday the 13th (a film I expected to work due to its rather overrated source material), I personally had low expectations for Samuel Bayer’s film and yet, to the surprise of myself and shock of just about everyone I know, I enjoyed it.

Yes, I’m one of those five people and in building a safe fort for the positive few, I’ve decided to toss out a few defenses of the most pointed attacks hurled its way. Granted, I also took up a similar undertaking with Terminator Salvation and have since come to admit that McG’s work is rather dreadful, but for the sake of spring and cock-eyed optimism, here goes.

Stiff Acting

Sure, moany Rooney Mara isn’t the most likable final girl of recent memory, but can anyone really mount an actual defense of Heather “Smells Something Icky At All Times-Face” Lagenkamp? Aside from nostalgic effect in identifying with her untamed hair woes, the original Nancy wasn’t that interesting. Or well-acted. Similar words can be used for--suck in those tight cheekbones--Johnny Depp, who really brings nothing to Glen that isn’t in his glorious mane. Kyle Gallner, on the other hand, had an earnest, believably baggy-eyed presence as nice guy Not-Glen. I doubt he’ll ascend to commandeer the Black Pearl anytime soon, but hey. I liked him.

Ripped-Off Scenes

Remakes are a damed if you do, damned if you don’t montage of can’t win choices, and none embody that more than Nightmare’s take on recreating/reimagining some of the original’s iconic moments. While some fell flat--Nancy’s bathtub flirtation with a rusty glove felt obligatory and abrupt--others worked surprisingly well. Chris (aka Not-Tina)’s bed death was quite effective at jolting the audience around the room. Nods to the original were there--football jersey, ceiling drag--but rather than try to merely deliver a CGI makeover, Bayer hurled the poor young woman against the walls like a pitbull shaking a puppy, putting the shock in the toss rather than blood. It was the perfect marriage of homage and reimagining.

Dreams

Yes, most of Freddy 2.0’s nightmares were confined to an unimaginative boiler room and backyard, but you know what? So were Craven’s. Zsa Zsa Gabor and Dick Cavett didn’t enter the picture-in-picture until Dream Warriors, and Debbie’s Kafkaesque metamorphosis didn’t get going until Part 4. The Nightmare series remains memorable for its surreal playground, but those rusty gates didn’t open with Wes Craven’s original. Bayer didn’t really innovate the nightmare landscape, but he created a definite hell and more importantly, honed the rules of sleep to make the audience fully aware of just how dangerous--and unavoidable--a quick snooze can be.

Did I love this film? No, and shaky effects and dialog was primarily to blame. Still, in the time of Bijou Philips clutching an oversized bundle of CGI muss in It’s Alive! or the uninspired rehash-minus-suspense in The Hitcher. I’ll take a reboot that actually tries to, you know, reboot a dead franchise by infusing some form of new life, new story, or new hook to keep things fresh.

So let’s have Part 2! Providing, of course, that we keep the homosexual metaphors and homicidal gym supplies. 

Welcome to Reboots, Bitch

There are three reasons why the Nightmare On Elm Street franchise has always been superior to Friday the 13th.

1. Freddy Krueger was morally monstrous, a mean-spirited killer (and by most estimations, child molester) who targeted kids and teens simply because they were tempting and vulnerable, not, as Jason did, due to their sexual promiscuity or employment with summer camps. This was a cruel and sadistic man who took pleasure in exploiting the fears of nice enough kids who, for the most part, would rather be doing productive things (like playing Dungeons & Dragons or pumping iron) to having unchaperoned sex parties or playing strip poker.

1. With exceptions, the teens-in-peril of the series had some sort of defining characteristic that may not necessarily have made them three-dimensional Oscar contenders, but always gave the audience some kind of soft spot to stake their sympathies inside. The titular Dream Warriors of fan favorite Part 3 are stereotypes (junkie, wheelchair kid, puppet master...everybody knew a puppet master in high school, yes?), but they’re affectionately drawn stereotypes that mostly inhabit their characters with gusto that pays off...just not always in their favor. Knowing Taryn is a recovering heroin addict makes watching her get impaled by Freddy’s needle fingers all the more horrifying and sad.

1. Jack Bauer be damned, everyone must sleep. It’s inevitable. At the same time, you have no control over what films will play on the nightly screenings that are your dreams. The very idea that the one you hate more than anything will be on constant loop is terrifying (Sex and the City: The Movie? Noooooo! Then again, it could be worse...)

Now. I bring these points up in preparation for what I assume will be an instant defense of why...

hold your breath...

I liked this remake

(ducks)

Quick disclaimer: I didn’t looooove this movie or want to instantly cuddle with it, a la The Fly ’86 or Dawn of the Dead ’04 (although to be fair, the latter is more of a wham-bam-thank-you-til-next-time tangle in the sheets than serious affair). But hey. I had a good time. A few SPOILER-y reasons why:

1. Freddy is an asshole

A twisted and sexual deviant who plays with his victims’ pain until the very last second (sometimes 6 minutes after it’s over, at least for poor TV John Connor). Now as much as I love Jackie Earle Haley, I’ll concede that it wasn’t his performance that sold me on Freddy 2.0 (and trust me: it also wasn’t in any way the makeup design, which resembled a roasted marshmallow burnt over a penis). What I liked about this villain was--and I’m a little shocked by this--his backstory as a perverted and deliberate sadist. The development of who Krueger was in his lifetime and how that damaged these kids--plus the convenient explanation of why he was hidden and what buried memories brought him back--worked for me, even if it had a touch of Law & Order: SVU sprinkled in the mix.

2. Tired, so tired

Laugh at Not Johnny Depp’s Googl--er, Gigablasting of “sleep deprivation” all you want (I did), but also concede that the foreshadowing, albeit clunky and typical, actually paid off. Past films in the Nightmare series often featured dreaded microsleeps, but the remake does a surprisingly decent job of planting the knowledge--both of dozing off and, far more frightening, slipping into an actual coma--to create a more specific danger zone for the kids.

3. Imagining, Re

I’m sure many an ‘80s kid is twirling his or her scrunchie in anger over the fact that Not Johnny Depp didn’t have a date with Death Bed: The Bed That Regurgitates or how Nancy’s perfect chestnut locks never drew a gray streak. Amazingly enough, these are rarely the same .0003% of the population who celebrated Gus Van Sant’s Psycho. A Nightmare On Elm Street wasn’t the best reinterpretation of subject matter that I’ve seen, but I appreciated how it handled some of its winks and nods to Wes Craven’s original. Chris (aka Not Tina)’s bed death was mean in a different way from the slice ‘n dice horror of the original, but why not? If I wanted to see the same shot-for-shot tear-her-up murder, I’d put on my DVD. I appreciated the references, as opposed to craving redo-s.

I’m not going to dip Samuel Bayer’s A Nightmare On Elm Street in dark chocolate and savor each bite with milk. This was by no means a great film or even in the top tier of remakes, but I enjoyed a lot about this movie. Sure, the characters had little spark, the murders lacked ingenuity, and CGI was abused worse than Stephen Hawking, but there was also some new storytelling to be found in a series that had been in rather stale hibernation for some time. 

Isn’t that what a ‘reboot’ is supposed to do?

Onto more important matters:

Can we please talk about the positively bizarre trailer for Beastly, projected future entry in the Deadly Doll House’s Horrible Non-Horror! Although it might be horror. Or rom-com. Or high school dramedy. Or superhero saga. Or revenge tale. 

I. Don't. Know.

Maybe Neil Patrick Harris, who actually suppresses a vomit in the preview, can better explain. Perhaps we can trust whichever Olsen twin it is playing a hobo sorceress to point us in the right direction. Either way, this is bound to be one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life, and I met two Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz.

Death of a Cheerleader

 
It’s a rare Oscar winner that would follow and Academy awarded screenplay with a blood-soaked horror movie set in high school, but the prom queen of 2008’s Sundance did just that with Jennifer’s Body. Written by Juno scribe Diablo Cody and directed by Girlfight’s Karyn Kasuma, this bouncy pseudo horror has a refreshingly high dose of estrogen behind its production. 


That doesn't make it a particularly good (certainly not well directed) film, but despite the late-nite cable title, retro 80s poster art dying to make messy backseat love to a VHS (above, and I actually really dig it), and the abundance of near-nude Megan Fox skin, it's important to note that Jennifer's Body does try a few new things in marrying snappy high school humor with  a throwback horror style. 

Quick Plot: Despite their differences, mousey Needy (Amanda Seyfried) and hot cadet squad captain Jennifer (Megan Fox) remain lifelong BFFs, as proven by their matching heart necklaces. While Needy would prefer a quiet night in with her pet ferret or sweet boyfriend (you know he’s a catch because he went to Super Target to buy the spiral textured condoms so “it feels good for girls”), she agrees to accompany Jennifer to the local bar to see the hot new band from “the city” (which, from Long Island to the Alaska, is like, so the way suburban kids describe the nearest metropolis). Jennifer flirts her way into the sights of the lead singer (a hilarious Adam Brody) who in turn consults his drummer about the possible sexual history/non-history of the underage goupie-to-be. Offended, Needy dishonestly defends her friend’s honor before a fatal fire destroys the bar and makes extra crispy meat of most of its inhabitants. A shocked Jennifer ends up in the back of the band’s van, only to later show up in Needy’s kitchen with an appetite for Boston Market and an erupting blackened bloody wound in her chest. 

The next day, students and faculty mourn the town’s tragedy while Jennifer acts like a bitchy hot girl who craves the flesh of teenaged boys. And since she is cadet squad captain, she totally gets it. (Side note: once online for a roller coaster at Great Adventure, I overheard this pearly gem from a young blonde on a school trip: "I'm a cheerleader. That means I can do whatever the hell I want." Jennifer's Body comes extremely close to using this exact line).

Like a lot of current horror, Jennifer’s Body seemed to take some fan backlash when its very concept was announced. Diablo Cody’s style is pretty polarizing, and early trailers made the film look like 90 minutes of Fox teasing audiences with near nudity and sapphic innuendo. While the film is no masterpiece or milestone in the horror genre, it is an energetically enjoyable flick ripe for a Sunday afternoon viewing, sort of like a younger Drag Me To Hell with a little more Whedonesque puns tossed in. Amanda Seyfried proves that whether she’s slaying demons or singing to ABBA, she’s an incredibly likable and interesting onscreen presence (even if her “geek” look of flat hair and thick glasses is less believable than Rachael Lee Cook’s makeover in She’s All That). Megan Fox finds the right beats to prove herself more than capable of having fun with the kind of role she was born to play. Cody’s script is far less stylized than the every-line’s-a-pop-culture-quip of Juno, although a few dialogue duds land here and there. Still, the script is generally good fun without being forced.

But is it a good horror movie? Well, not in the scary sense, but that doesn’t mean Jennifer’s Body doesn’t fit its genre. This doesn’t come near the brilliance of something like Scream (which combined self-aware teenagedom with actual suspense in a way that’s hard to rival) but there’s a lot to enjoy, from the complex yet believable relationship between two mismatched best friends to the gleefully macabre humor around the world’s most satanically ambitious indie band since Black Roses. As far as actual fear factor goes, Jennifer’s Body is far more concerned with keeping its audience chuckling than inspiring nightmares, but those chuckles are sometimes quite nasty (and I mean that in the nicest way). It won't give you nightmares, but it will make you smile.

High Points

Neither gets much to do, but it’s still a treat to see Amy Sedaris and J.K. Simmons turning in shining little performances, plus an extra special cameo by one very genre friendly actor in the final scene

The actual sacrifice scene is filled with maniacally black humor 

Both Jennifer and Needy’s choice in promwear is gloriously horrendous. Whether this was an homage to the film’s 80s spirit or a comment on the misguided fashion sense of small town middle America, I like it

Low Points

Despite all the the cheer for the R-Rating, there’s nothing overwhelming or envelope pushing regarding the sex or violence

For all its buildup to the two climaxes, the finale(s) feel underwhelming and rushed. While we can laugh along with Jennifer and are certainly pulling for Seyfried's Needy, director Kasuma does not seem to have any control in building actual cinematic suspense

Lessons Learned

Small towns have bars; cool cities have clubs

Never chide a violent prison inmate for her dietary choices

Murderers of cheerleaders get a lot of fan mail


High school sex smells like Thai food

Bands that aspire to be Maroon 5 are never up to any good

See/Skip/Sneak In

I had a great time watching this movie, and only part of that came from the two 22 ounce glasses of pumpkin beer consumed one hour before showtime. That being said, there is definitely a segment of theatrical audiences--possibly a lot that are male--that will naturally have an aversion to mixing Mean Girls with demonic possession in a manner that tries a little too hard to wear its own cred in a too obvious (and acknowledged) placement of an Evil Dead t-shirt. This isn't the film anyone has been sacrificing puppies to see on the big screen, but it's a fun enough way to spend 90 minutes and a few months from now when it hits DVD, I can actually see some of the laughs landing more effectively. The fact that it seemed to bomb with theatrical audiences is something of a bummer; this isn't a new classic, but it's certainly more deserving of attention than something as trite and uninspired as Friday the 13th Part 12. 


Sigh. It always comes back to that for me, doesn't it.