I Spit On Your Day of the Remake

I will not begin this post on 2010’s I Spit On Your Grave with yet another disclaimer for how I wish uppity genre fans would drop the ‘all remakes suck!’ mantra with the same fervor I feel for wanting studios to stop remaking movies. It’s a conundrum. We deal with it. There are highs and lows, but we as film lovers should always maintain open minds.

But in case this is misunderstood, I do indeed wish a plague on you, It’s Alive 2009.

Moving on...

Quick Plot: Jennifer HIll is a ridiculously successful-for-her-can’t-rent-a-car-yet age novelist heading to a rented home in the boonies to work on her next book, jog, and drink case after case of red wine. Minus the jogging, it actually sounds like a dream vacation to my ears but folks don’t normally spit on the graves of happy holidayers.

During a routine fill-up at the local gas station where the only people in town hang out, Jennifer meets a few ragged townies with poor hygiene and pickup lines but an impressive ability to make the city girl feel really uncomfortable. Later, Jennifer encounters the town town idiot/plumber named Matthew whose skills under the toilet earn him a kiss and the testosterone-heavy party plans of his pals.

For the most part thus far, I Spit On Your Grave is closely following the trajectory laid down 32 years earlier, although the men are cast as would-be rapists almost immediately in contrast to the original, which first made them almost flirty. Moving on, Steven Monroe’s new film treats the abuse of Jennifer in a very different manner. Like the original, the quartet of grimy fellas show up with one thing on their collective mind, but where Meir Zarchi followed one rape with another--each a symbol of the competitive men topping one another with their violence--Monroe’s instead focuses on how the guys humiliate the richer and more successful Jennifer. We certainly understand the original’s ringleader as a man frustrated with and intimidated by Jennifer’s position for both economical and gender reasons, and unfortunately, some of that is missed here. What the men put our victim through is truly wrong, but their motives seem far less complicated (though in fairness, only the original’s Johnny seemed to have any real depth).

But look at us, examining the timely undertones of grindhouse when there are bear traps, acid baths, and men getting their eyes pecked out by crows to talk about! Consider the pretension raped out of this review.

Because really, I Spit On Your Grave is not a serious film. It starts out that way, with glossy-grainy Last House on the Left-like style carving out a tragedy and trying with solemn earnestness to make us care. Once Jennifer falls into a brown groggy lake, I Spit On Your Grave suddenly transforms into an over-the-top-torture porn pop tart bursting with gigglesome Jigsaw-like murder traps only a lifelong member of the Girl Scouts could even dream of rigging. 

I know it sounds awful. Or awesome. It’s sort of both.

See, after the rape, I Spit On Your Grave is, in an odd way, not really Jennifer’s story. We don’t see her recover or plot her revenge as Monroe instead focuses on the guilty parties slowly realizing she survived. It definitely hurts the film, as any of Jennifer’s possible depth is quashed once she becomes a near-silent, almost J-horror-esque ghostess who can’t be foiled. It’s pretty ridiculous, as are the kills. Seriously, I’m talking sticking-a-shotgun-in-our-anus ridiculous. Which...hey, sometimes has its place.

High Points

Not to say that the actual rape was, you know, good or anything, but the leadup to Jennifer’s humiliation is actually quite effective in being as mean as the original without any sugar coating

Low Points

Sarah Butler isn’t necessarily bad as Jennifer, but it’s really impossible to buy her as a successful independent novelist when she should still be getting carded to buy cigarettes.

Lessons Learned

Good whiskey is a treat generally reserved for baptisms, weddings, and funerals

Like soon-to-be rape victims, overweight rural fourth wheels may experience the unfortunate act of having lots of things stuffed inside their mouths (including, but not limited to, guns, video tapes, and rats)

A cell phone’s place is never in the bathroom. Really people, you’re in a horror movie set in the 21st century. Don’t give the Laws of Getting Rid of Phones any leeway

Rent/Bury/Buy

A lot of film folk have trashed I Spit On Your Grave as Just Another Awful Remake. I am not one of them. It’s a flawed film, a disjointed slight mess that doesn’t quite know what it wants to be. At the same time, it approaches the material with an interesting balance of faithfulness and experimentation, keeping the storyline so close to its predecessor but trying new things with how it all unfolds. Those who despise gruesome Saw-ish violence should probably stay away, but the curious might get something out of the film. It’s not actually good, but as a ‘fan’ of the original, I found the remake to be worth a tepid watch. 

Water Water Everywhere But Not a Drop To Drink

The Crazies is a perfectly passable horror movie.

But it’s not nearly as frightening as The Blind Side.

Sigh. I’ll get to what I’m declaring The Most Racist Movie To Ever Probably Win An Oscar in another day or so (it’s horrific, hence I’m reviewing it) but for now, here’s Breck Eisner’s decent, if uninspired spin on George Romero’s imperfect (yet perfectly loved by me) 1973 non-zombie zombie-esque film.

Quick Plot: In an idyllic Iowan town where the sun beams and stars twinkle, a high school baseball game is interrupted by the reformed Town Drunk stumbling into right field with a shotgun. Town Sheriff David Dutton (Timothy Olyphant, forever holder of a free movie pass following his way-better-than-it-had-to-be performance in A Perfect Getaway) saves the day by blowing his face off. This seems to upset School Principal, but David’s understanding (and expectant) wife/Town Doctor Judy (Silent Hill’s Radha Mitchell) and loyal Deputy Russell (The Ruins’ brokeback Joe Anderson) are there for support. Town Historian, Local Undertaker, and Mayor don’t comment, although Local Farming Family soon follows the opening disaster with another tragic fate.

Two things you’ve probably noticed from my review:

1. In terms of the cast, there’s a fair amount of modern horror cred (The Signal’s Justin Welborn and Friday the 13th: Part XII’s Danielle Panabraker round it out)
2. Just about every character is quite easily defined by Sesame Street's Who Are The People In Your Neighborhood style professions.

If you’ve seen George Romero’s flawed, but weirdly effective original, you know the basic hook. A biological weapon has been accidentally released on the sweet hamlet of Ogdan Nash--I mean, Ogden Marsh--and its major downside is that it drives the general population violently--and occasionally, giddily--bonkers. The government quickly swoops in to stabilize the situation, but anyone that’s ever seen a movie knows that a civil employee in a HAZMAT suit brings less good vibes than a Red Sox fan at Yankee Stadium.

Chaos quickly ensues as the townspeople are rounded up by menacing soldiers. Where the original soared in these messy moments of government order failing to hold up in rec centers and school gyms, 30+ years later, these scenes are standard to almost any contamination zombie flick. Eisner offers nothing new in that department, although a moment of suspense involving a pitchfork and a gurney is a decent thrill. 

Where The Crazies works best is, surprisingly, in a few more pointed and quiet moments of actual human emotion. Even hardened city folk such as yours truly can’t help but be charmed by some of Ogden Marsh’s sunshine, making the eerily empty streets lined with mom ‘n pop shops slightly poignant. At one point, Judy and David approach the perfect home where they were going to build a family, now having seen their neighbors tear each other to pieces in the school their child would have eventually attended. That in itself is horrific, as is the slow realization that one of the more likable characters is infected.

It’s strange that I would find those smaller beats so much more interesting than, say, night shots of Crazies climbing over government guarded fences. Perhaps it’s a testament to the solid cast and surprisingly strong script in contrast to the uninspired direction of Eisner, but the actual attacks are simply kind of trite. A car wash ambush is filled with tension, but like the characters, we can’t really see a thing going on and therefore have very little sense of what the danger actually is. 

I realize this review is taking a very negative turn, which is unfortunate because I liked this movie. It’s fine. Well-acted. Pretty landscape. Some neat violence. Appropriately downbeat when it needs to be. Adequate in every way, and even fairly respectful in nodding to the original while being a thing of its own. I just wish “its own” meant that, and not like every other slick remake made in the past ten years. I dare you to not think about some of the more visceral thrills of Alexander Aja’s Hills Have Eyes during much of The Crazies’ action sequences. I double dare you to be nearly as impressed.

High Points

A quietly eerie cameo from Lynn Lowry provides a knowing, but not annoying wink to fans of the original

Part of the messiness of Romero’s original comes from the lack of focus in storyline, as it volleys between the civilian heroes and the government trying in vain to solve the problem. One of the remake’s best decisions is to view all the action from David and Judy’s point of view. All we know about the Trixie virus is filtered through the bits of intel from randomly stopped soldiers, keeping the audience as in the dark as our desperate characters

Low Points

While Eisner proves his competence behind the camera, all of the close combat action sequences are either terribly staged or dreadfully edited. The first major fight between David and a buzz-saw wielding Crazy is intense, but there’s no sense of where the two men fighting hand-to-hand are in relation to each other, something not helped by speed-of-light cuts. Similarly, a moment where Judy hides in a closet with corpses lacks any suspense since we have no idea how the closet is laid out. When a very tall and assumedly strong Crazy opens the door to look for life, we see a shot of him, rather than his point of view. It’s a ridiculous moment when even we don’t know where he should be looking.

One shoot-the-guy-just-before-he-kills-a-protagonist scene is a relief. Three is pushing it.

Lessons Learned

Iowa weather is a mystery. You can wear a winter coat on a sunny afternoon only to take a dip in a swimming pool ten minutes later

Town Sheriff never pays for coffee

“Wait here” are two of the stupidest words you can say to a loved one when martial law is in effect and psychotic super strong humanoids are on the hunt

It takes a really long time to strangle a man to death (although, as A Perfect Getaway proved, Lord Olyphant is really hard to kill)

See/Skip/Sneak In

As theatrical horror remakes in 2010 go, The Crazies is perfectly adequate, much along the same lines as another remake of an imperfect, but important 1970s film Last House On the Left. Those sensitive to jump scares may have a great time, while others who prefer the strange madness of the original (like the uber creepy scene where Day of the Dead’s Dr. Frankenstein puts the moves on his own daughter) will find the film lacking in anything memorable. To endorse R-rated horror, give it your matinee money. Otherwise, slip in after something better or wait for the sure to be “unrated” DVD (meaning, as is standard for the ‘00s editions, filled with four extra minutes of exposition and eleven seconds of additional CGI blood). 

Just Keep Telling Yourself: It's Only a Remake! It's Only a Remake!

First, a disclaimer: any true horror fan needs to support original and fresh concepts made with heart and energy. Pay for Orphan. Sneak into Sorority Row.

On the other hand...

Anybody whose chief complaint about 2009‘s Last House On the Left is that it’s a sub par remake of a classic film must first acknowledge that Wes Craven’s primal 1972 film was in fact its own remake of Igmar Bergman’s The Virgin Spring. 

And next...

That being said, the problem with today’s remakes tends to be the question of purpose. Why take something like The Omen--a fairly mediocre, if occasionally chilling relic--and re-film nearly every scene (my theory is actually that this one was the first, and probably only film to be made simply to land on the best release date, 6/6/06)? On the other hand, why call something like the Prom Night remake Prom Night if it has nothing to do with the original? When it comes to remakes in the 21st century, we’ve had our ups (Dawn of the Dead, My Bloody Valentine 3D) and downs (The Hitcher, Friday the 13th Part XII) and despite my own tiredness of hearing the word, it’s nearly impossible to review Last House on the Left ’09 without acknowledging its source.

Wes Craven’s film was revolutionary and shocking, but that does not necessarily equal ‘good.’ The film is deeply hurt by a few amateur performances and, at the director’s own admission, a comedic subplot featuring bumbling cops that was simply the wrong choice. At the same time, it has a vicious energy about it and true ruthlessness that has survived over 30 years for a reason. 

Quick Plot: The Collingwoods, a pleasant, upper middle class couple quietly getting over the death of their oldest son, head to their summer lake house with their teen daughter, a pretty Olympian swimmer-in-the-making named Mari, who quickly ditches her lame folks to hang out with the ditzy convenience store clerk, Paige. The girls meet a shy young man who offers them some grade A pot in his seedy motel room. They realize the wrongness of recreational drugs and bake oatmeal cookies instead, then distribute a batch to the poor neighborhood children and celebrate with ice cold apple cider and a good natured round of Parchese.

Or not. See, much like the original, the motel room in question happens to be under the name of Krug, a ragtag family of psychopathic killers on the run. The characters are identical to Craven’s, with Deadwood’s Garret Dillahunt playing the raging patriarch, Riki Lindhome as his needy girlfriend Aaron Paul as the lecherous uncle, and, in the one twist, a much more innocent Spencer Treat Clark as the morally minded teenager. The girls are kidnapped. One is brutally raped. The other stabbed. As an aggressive storm begins to strike, the Krugs seek shelter in the nearest home which...drumroll sounding...happens to belong to none other than the worrisome Collingwoods.

In many ways, LHOtL ’09 does what a good remake is supposed to do: honor the source material while integrating something new. The changes here (SPOILER ALERT) help to make the second half a decidedly different film from Craven’s bleak original. As her parents tuck the Krugs into the guest house, the battered and bleeding Mari makes her way home. Like the past two films the parents quickly realize what has happened and who caused it but now, there is a certain immediacy in killing the Krugs. Father John (the always solid, and possibly fountain of youth drinking Tony Goldwyn) and mother Emma (a very good Monica Potter, an actress I’ve never really given any weight to before) fight more to protect their daughter than for vengeance and here, many devotees of the past two films may be annoyed. 

The Virgin Spring is a film about brutal instincts beating the rules of modern faith. Craven’s Last House focuses on revenge at its most primal. In some ways, this latest version has more emotion and far less complexity. The Collingwoods have to take down the Krugs, not for blind rage, but because otherwise, how can they boat Mari to safety? As viewers, we’re certainly invested; we like Mari, who seems smart and sweet enough to deserve survival. At the same time, the moral implications so rich in the first two films can’t really come to play here...until the final scene, which will leave everyone who watches this movie with sweet dreams of hot pockets.

Argh, the final shot. This is one of those instances where I curse modern movie trailers. Like most horror filmgoers, I’d seen the extended preview several times in the theater. Between the haunting cover of Sweet Child of Mine and the shot of Dillahunt’s head jammed inside the microwave, it certainly piqued my interest enough to want to see Last House, but it also revealed one of the most shocking moments in this version. The biggest problem was that, while I was completely involved in this film, the image of Krug’s nuking was in the back of my (thankfully non-nuked) head the entire time. When it finally came, it almost felt like a concession to viewers craving something truly outrageous. As much as I enjoy the ridiculous image of a man’s head exploding in a household appliance, I honestly can’t tell you whether I approved of the jarring mood switch here because I never really had the chance to see it fresh.

High Points

Most of the specific changes made from the ’72 film make the actions and characters much more believable; the clearer location, the lingering ghost of the late Collingwood son, Mari’s swimming prowess, and a few more that never really make you think--as with many horror films--that what is happening is overly silly

The biggest flaw with Craven’s original is the low quality of acting. While non of the cast is making Oscar bids, Goldwyn and Potter sell their characters, Sara Paxton’s Mari is smart and likable, and the entire Krug clan is trashily fearsome

Low Points

Time and time again, we hear the same beef with modern horror films: they’re too ‘glossy’ and clean. Last House is beautifully shot--which is more than fine--but there is some sort of sheen cast over the entire film that makes it feel a tad too neat for the brutal subject matter

Lessons Learned

Broken microwaves possess powers most of us have only dreamed of. As someone who works for an appliance company, I’m suddenly wondering if this is a new direction in marketing

The Village People aren’t the only beneficiaries of the YMCA

Always let your dishes soak

If a murderous madman wants to pee, keep the man happy and let him pee

Spinoff Pitch

Mortal Microwave: The Microwave That Blows People’s Heads Up (to be written by Patton Oswalt and directed by George Barry) 

Rent/Bury/Buy

This is definitely worthy of a view, if only so you can draw your own judgment on whether it was necessary or respectful a film. Like its predecessors, Last House is not an easy film to sit through and contains some pretty icky moments of rape. The DVD includes a quickie “behind the scenes” (which is essentially a glorified trailer) and a few wisely deleted delete scenes, so it’s not quite a buy. Give it a chance and let me know your thoughts. As I said earlier, it lacks the moral ambiguity and hazy depth of past takes, but you know what? For 90 minutes, it gives you a suspenseful and well-filmed ride. It’s not my personal apex of what a remake should be, but it’s enjoyable enough for what it is and entertains on a certain, if tamer, level.