Review: Paranormal Activity 2

Last year, mainstream cinema was seized by an unseen force in the guise of things that go bump in the night. Horror fans love nothing more than a good, chilling flick to get the adrenaline flowing and keep us up at night, right? And when a film bleeds into public knowledge it's nothing short of gratifying. Add to that the fact that Paranormal Activity can surely be described as a phenomenon. It cost about seventeen cents to make and grossed about fifty go-zillion (numbers are estimates for entertainment purposes only. Not to be used in conjunction with any other ointment or...damn. I mixed up my disclaimers). You get the idea. It made an assload of green. I saw it twice. And while I've heard many complaints about the characters' interactions since then, that was one of my favorite parts. I saw Micah and Katie as a real couple. I believed that. That made it real.

Well, then we hear a sequel is coming. I was torn as I'm sure many of you were. On one hand, it would be really fun to go through that spooktacular ride again. On the other, we all know how the Hollywood machine works. Could I really stand to have what I enjoyed about the original chewed up and regurgitated back to me. Blecch. Even chocolate only tastes good the first time going down. Seeing the trailers really only caused more discomfort for me. The dragging bit? Yeah we saw that. But then maybe this demon is just a one trick pony. But you know me. I love a good scare and a creepy haunting story is one of the best ways to do it. But how? How can you do that again without seeming redundant? They figured it out for the most part.

This film surrounds a family who is seemingly well to do. They have a nice big home, an automatic pool cleaner (Poolba, maybe?), and some overall nice stuff. When an apparent break-in causes the family concern, they have it wired with cameras covering just about every inch. Well, that's pretty darned convenient, huh? Now we don't have to worry about how we see the stuff and we don't have to explain why someone has a camera stuck to their face all the time. I can dig it. But they still have the camcorder on way more than any normal family would. I mean it's not 1989 anymore. We're over that, aren't we? And unless these folks are just dying to make it on America's Funniest Videos before it gets canceled, I don't see how it works all the time. But that's a minor flaw.
What I really love here, as with the first one, are the familial interactions. I believe these folks are related. The dad, in particular, is just as annoying as any father I've ever known. I always enjoy when actors focus on the little things that make us human. The devil is in the details after all. And as we watch the family (including father, mother, teenager, baby boy and dog) go about their daily lives, it's like I know them. I'd also like to mention that I am impressed with Allie quite a bit. To be so young she conveys pure fright with ease. I feel perfectly comfortable saying that all the performances are impeccable. Good show.

But is it scary? Sure, if that sort of thing scares you. I was jolted a time or two but it didn't keep me up last night. Perhaps I was used to that. We did see several things we've seen before. They were presented differently but the effect is the same. As for action, though, if the first one was called "What the hell?" then this one might be "HOLY CRAP." There are still stretches of nothing which I don't mind (more realism, please. Thank you). But when the joint gets hopping, stuff is all over the place. That includes several of my fellow audience members. That's always fun. I also distinctly felt a temperature drop as the action revved. I wondered briefly if that was planned because I wasn't the only one who noticed. If so, I applaud them for that as well.

Nothing wrong with Castle-izing a picture. More film makers should go that route. Maybe horror fans would get their butts in the seats more often. If you were a fan of the first then you should enjoy this outing just as much, maybe more. Sadly, though, if you were not into the original then I don't think this one will convert you.

Review: Nightmares in Red, White and Blue: The Evolution of the American Horror Film

The only thing I enjoy more than a good horror movie is a good documentary about horror movies. As a kid, I remember seeing a television series entitled Stephen King's World of Horror that featured interviews with the likes of John carpenter and Clive Barker, as well as King himself, all waxing rhapsodic about the nature of horror filmmaking and horror itself, and my love affair with talking about horror was born. Since then, it seems like horror docs come out with surprising frequency, some specific to subgenres like the entertaining Going to Pieces: The Rise and Fall of the Slasher Film, while others approach the subject more expansively. Nightmares in Red, White Blue: The Evolution of the American Horror Film is an example of the latter, tracing the course of the American horror movie in broad terms.

With interviews from Darren Lynn Bousman (Saw II), John Carpenter (The Thing, Halloween), George Romero (Papa Bear), and many others, the film takes a chronological approach to its subject matter, beginning with the earliest movie ghouls to grace the sepia-toned screen. As the silent era gave way to talkies, Nightmares spends some quality time with the Universal monsters that have become synonymous with classic horror -Frankenstein's monster, the wolf man, Dracula - and it's always fun to hear modern filmmakers discuss their love affair with the first films that frightened them.

As the documentary gives way to the post-World War 2 era, some of the more entertaining moments come in the discussion of the giant bug movies that cropped up in response to our national fear that the Big One could drop at any moment, that we had released the radioactive genie from the bottle and there was no putting him back in. It is here that the film first begins its discussion of how our national psyche is directly responsible for the horror films we make popular, and the anxiety of the 1950s and '60s is little different from that of the 1980s, when the Cold War escalation produced films like The Day After or Threads.

As the film moves forward into modern times, by which I mean the 1970s and forward, Nightmares continues the evaluation of the relationship between societal change and the horror films of the time. A mention of David Cronenberg's Shivers as a response to the sexual revolution is all too brief, but the point is well made that we are given to worry as things evolve culturally, and those worries must have an outlet. One of the more interesting points made in the film occurs early on, as horror filmmakers discuss how nice the average horror auteur is, often more soft-spoken and friendly than the material they produce would suggest. This may be, the film proposes, because such filmmakers take their anxieties and worries and put them on the screen, rather than allow themselves to internalize them, letting them grow and fester like a cancer.

The benefit of documentaries like this one is that they bring a seriousness to the oft-maligned genre, discussing them in a manner beyond the usual fan discussions. A defense of The Silence of the Lambs as a true horror film, despite the producers categorizing it as a thriller, is welcome, and for anyone who has had that discussion, Nightmares provides a fairly succinct argument for horror here. More importantly, the documentary is recent, so it manages to address the current wave of remakes and adaptations of foreign horror, which must now be part of our discussion of the genre.

The only real downside to this doc is that it doesn't do a whole lot different. if you've seen Carpenter and Romero discussing horror before, you get some of the same stuff here (an exception being Carpenter's discussion of a line he wrote for Starman that is a wonderful moment of honesty), so Nightmares doesn't pack a lot of surprises for a devourer of horror like myself. On the other hand, if you aren't so devout and want to explore the subject of the American horror film, Nightmares in Red, White and Blue is a great primer for exploring the films of our past, while providing some much needed contextual analysis for them. If you are new to the genre, or have never turned back the cinematic clock to see where horror films began, this is a fine documentary and worthy of your time. For the well-initiated, it's still entertaining, if disappointingly familiar.

Review: Saw 3-D

Okay, gang, let's put a bow on this Saw thing. Because of the nature of these films, there are some spoilers ahead for those who haven't seen the past few sequels, but these things must be revealed to talk about the most recent chapter. If, for some reason, you want to see this one, but haven't seen Saw 5 & 6, you might want to skip to the last paragraph and save yourself some information. On the other hand, why would you watch those awful movies? Screw it, don't worry about watching 'em. Here's what's going on in the Jigsaw-verse.

As we know, former Agent Hoffman (Costas Mandylor) has been the Jigsaw killer for a while, now. When last we left him, the real Jigsaw's wife, Jill (Betsy Russell), had found him out and placed him in a trap. Something about how he was handling Jigsaw's legacy. Whatever. We find that Hoffman hasn't been done in by the trap left for him, however, and, instead, is planning his vengeance on both Jill and a former colleague named Gibson (Chad Donella). Gibson is keeping Jill safe using his pull as a detective while investigating the latest in Jigsaw's traps, which has left a slew of bodies at a local junkyard. Oh, and there was the deal you see in the ads where there's a bunch of people watching some people in a booth with an elaborate saw trap. That has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the movie. In fact, I don't believe it was mentioned again. Sorry, trying to inject narrative logic. Forgot which series of films I was talking about.

The other storyline has to do with a guy named Bobby (Sean Patrick Flanery) who has written a book detailing his recovery and lessons learned following his escape from one of Jigsaw's traps. Trouble is, he was never actually in one of Jigsaw's traps. I think you can guess where that's headed. Yep, he and his wife and PR team are caught in another game designed by Hoffman, one would assume. He never really interacts with Bobby. Whatever. He has to save his friends and get to his wife in an hour, or she dies. I like when these movies give you a clear idea of when they're going to end. Keeps hope alive.

Also back in the picture is Dr. Gordon (Cary Elwes), the original victim of Jigsaw's machinations. He shows up at a support group Bobby is leading to offer a sarcastic clap and then disappears. But this is a Saw movie, and we know there's going to be a twist. Surely, Elwes wasn't brought back for two minutes of screen time, was he? It's the cinematic equivalent of seeing Martin Sheen guest star on Murder, She Wrote, only he's in one scene and disappears while Jessica searches for the killer. It can't turn out to be Martin Sheen, can it?

This is director Kevin Gruetert's sophomore effort in the series, on the heels of the abysmal Saw VI, and the fourth go-round for writers Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan, who followed up the fun Feast with two bad sequels and are attached to the Piranha sequel coming next year. They are very, very bad writers. There are so many pointless diversions and question marks left by their stories, it's amazing that no one ever stopped to ask if this should all make sense. Whatever, this is the last one. So, the 3-D is almost besides the point, and only a couple of gags even justify the extra cost. Thankfully, the blue-green lighting that is a hallmark of this franchise is downplayed, so at least I didn't get a headache watching this one. The gore is fine, if unnecessary, and the whole thing is less a movie than a masturbatory exercise in silly plotting and showing a little viscera.

Ultimately, this isn't the worst of the series, and it does end it, basically. This has been touted as the final chapter, and they, by god, better not be dirty liars. If you've seen the other films, curiosity may lead you to this, and that's fine. But if you've never seen these films beyond the original, count yourself lucky and skip this mess. But, on a personal note, I did it. I saw them all. Down to the very last one. And it better be...

"They're Coming to Get You, America..."

You wake up, just like every morning, only something's different today. The news shows fires in the city, random attacks by angry mobs. Dismissively, you turn off the television, jump in the car and head for work. Only the roads are littered with abandoned vehicles, and strange, slouching figures shamble across the road. The slap of a hand at your window and you turn to find a face greeting you - a fleshless jaw and blood dripping from what used to be your neighbor's mouth. You, my friend, are smack dab in the midst of the zombie apocalypse.

More and more, zombies are lurching into our culture. They have pervaded mass media in a way that is unprecedented. This weekend alone, you can catch Dead Set on IFC, Shaun of the Dead on Comedy Central, The Walking Dead on AMC, and that's in between playing Dead Rising 2 or Red Dead Redemption: Undead Nightmare on your game consoles. Or, maybe you're a reader, and would rather read World War Z or the comics upon which The Walking Dead is based. You see what I'm getting at. No matter your preferred medium, you can find zombies there. But what accounts for this sudden uptick in the living dead?

Assuming that horror films do, in fact, reflect something about or national subconscious, why should we be obsessed with this walking cadaver? Sure, they've always been among us, in one form or another. At first, they were entranced slaves, like 1943's I Walked with a Zombie, but Papa Bear changed the game with the original man-munching ghouls in 1968 with Night of the Living Dead. As Romero himself has said, that was a film about revolution, depicting a societal uprising that America could not ignore. And you don't have to look far in that film to see ideas of youth consuming the older generation, or notions of racism inherent in society. Romero continued his commentary with Dawn... and Day of the Dead, but those were niche films, relegated to late night screenings and discovery on home video.

Today, the commentary remains, but it's not so difficult to find these ghouls. In fact, it's harder to avoid them. But these monsters still have something to say to us. The Walking Dead, for example, is less about the zombies than the human beings placed under incredible stress. It's a very human story of what we are capable of under the worst of conditions. Or, the victims of the rage virus from 28 Days Later... who may not be zombies by the strictest definition, but they certainly fit within the construct. With a new virus seemingly poised to become the next pandemic - SARS, swine flu, chicken flu, monkey pox (remember that one?) - our fears of disease find an easy metaphor here. Something that can kill us, spreading from person to person, and no way to reason with it.

Of course, the events of September 11th, 2001 have created a national anxiety like no other in America. Papa Bear got in on the act with the underrated Land of the Dead, commenting on the willful denial that followed the attacks by creating the oasis of Fiddler's Green. Romero implied, with that film, we can ignore the tide of violence all we like, but, eventually, it must come home. Surprisingly, one of the more pointed social critiques has come from the add-on to the game Red Dead Redemption entitled Undead Nightmare. Local characters are quick to suggest that the spread of the disease raising the dead is due to the open border with Mexico and the flood of Mexicans into the border towns. If that isn't timely, I don't know what is.

Ultimately, the reason zombies have clawed their way out of their graves and into the mainstream is because of the malleable nature of their threat. They are the faceless masses, the natural disaster, they may be fear itself, creeping ever forward. Their origins can be disease, nature, or the act of an angry god. They can bring down our society, rip apart our families, force us to kill those we love. They can end it all, reduce the world we knew to a memory. And that is our national fear, isn't it? That we can be attacked without warning or apparent meaning? That our own internal divisions can reduce a once-great nation to chaos? That something we can't fight will come for us and destroy us? The zombie is that thing, and, in the hands of the right creator, so much more. As anxieties fade, so may the popularity of the zombie. But I'll wager that such a time is distant yet. Until that day comes, the zombie will remain, stalking us, scaring us... being us.

Review: The Walking Dead: "Days Gone By"

I was a fan of The Walking Dead as a comic. As soon as I heard a series featuring the zombie apocalypse was coming to television, I immediately sought out the source material and I devoured it like a ghoul on a horse. It's simply the best comic I've ever read, and deals with more emotional complexity than any film or television show I can recall. So, my hope that the show would be good - not great, but at least good - seemed justifiable. Then, Frank Darabont took the reins. I love his work, too. This seemed too good to be true. And then there were the clips from the show, the anticipation. And, last night, finally, I hit the lights, settled onto the couch and crossed my fingers.

Why was I worried? From the opening moment with our hero, Rick (Andrew Lincoln), stumbling across a little girl that just maybe survived the end of the world, and the inevitable realization that she's just another threat, I was hooked.

If you haven't seen it, yet, The Walking Dead begins with Rick waking, alone, in a hospital where he has been in a coma brought on by a gunshot wound. Like Day of the Triffids and 28 Days Later..., writer-director Frank Darabont uses this conceit to create some genuine moments of tension, especially in a tense stairwell scene. We learn, along with Rick, that the world has gone to hell in a handbasket, and the dead have risen to consume the living.

Being a premiere, one would expect a certain amount of set-up, and there is exposition to be given, but the talents of Darabont in weaving in important pieces of information without putting a neon sign over the heads of the characters makes even these necessary plot points something to behold. A moment when Rick wakes from his coma is sublime in its reveal of the passage of time, and Darabont populates the entire episode with moments of understatement, as when Rick mutters, "Need a moment" after killing his first zombie. The line is casual, the look on Rick's face, the weight of this new world settling onto his shoulders, is damn near heartbreaking.

Darabont is a master of finding the emotional beats in the story, and The Walking Dead is no different. But don't believe for a moment that the scares have been ignored. Or that the gore is downplayed. This is a zombie story, without question, which means you can expect head shots galore. The zombie effects by Greg Nicotero, who has taken the mantle of special effects guru from the generation before him (Rob Bottin, Tom Savini, etc.), are outstanding, despite some noticeably CGI blood effects.

It's easy to give in to hyperbole, and I will try to avoid it here. But this is an exception show, and one that horror fans are sure to embrace. The violence may turn off more mainstream viewers, but I certainly hope not. I'm all in on this show, now. I want to follow Rick and the band of survivors awaiting him outside Atlanta until the bitter end, and I hope that end is a very long way off. The writing here is crisp, the story human and emotional, and the scares effective. It's too early to rank it as one of the great horror series, but it's laying the groundwork for such a distinction. This is brave and bold stuff for commercial television. With only a six-episode run this season, my biggest letdown with this show, much like the comic it's based on, is that I want more. Now, I just have to find something to occupy myself until next Sunday night...