Saturday, 28 April 2012
11. Cabin in the Woods
Days behind review schedule: Two weeks. To be fair, though, that’s actually not bad compared with my usual record.
Alternate Title: “The Evil Whed(on)”. Out of practice, natch.
The Gist: Shoggoths and Old Ones and ghouls, oh my! Joss Whedon’s return to the horror stable finally sees the light of day.
Currently listening to: "Hawaiian War Chant" by Spike Jones and his Orchestra… Probably best not to ask. :S
The Experience: Now that I've gotten a considerable amount of my backlog of reviews out of the way in Spitting Out the Demons, and since I have some new films to review for the first time in the better part of a month, I've decided to post a review of a film that actually came out relatively recently. Yes, it’s true! The dawning of the age of Aquarius has come again! Raggedy Adams has something to write about for a change!
Joking aside, this is actually the ideal time to talk about the next film, as it’s been out long enough for the initial buzz to take its effect, for better or worse, and the overall opinion of it has been mostly positive but for a few niggles which I’ll get to in a moment. I should warn those who haven’t seen it, though, that I’m going to reveal some pretty integral plot-points so I'm just gonna slap this review with a big old BEWARE!! SPOILERS AHEAD!! STEER CLEAR IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THIS FILM!!
… Okay, let’s get on with it.
Cabin in the Woods reteams Buffy alumni Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard (writer of Cloverfield) and returns to what is essentially their bread and butter: post-modern tweaks of the horror genre. The plot is pretty much your standard horror fare, up to a point at least: a group of college kids (including a pre-Asgard Chris Hemsworth and Fran Kranz as living proof that Joss Whedon smokes way too much weed) drive to the woods for spring break. There’s a cabin there. They go down to the basement, mess with the wrong magical MacGuffin and things, as they say, go bump in the night.
The thing that differentiates this from the usual Evil Dead knock-offs is that in this movie, the mechanism behind the evil lurking in the woods is not an all-powerful demon or some backwoods pig rapists, but a pair of schlubby middle-aged technicians (played excellently by Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford) in an underground facility, carefully orchestrating the ritualistic sacrifice of the teenagers, (releasing monsters into the enclosed woods, covertly dosing the prey with chemicals to make them more likely to act recklessly,) in accordance with a formula that is at once the backbone of the horror genre and also a critique of the homogenizing effect it has on cinema and audiences. This is a film about ideas, specifically ideas about what we find more frightening: the monster in the cupboard, or the possibility of people controlling them. In most horror films this fact would be a closely guarded secret played out as a big reveal or twist right at the end of the film, but in Cabin it’s clear pretty much from the first twenty minutes that this is how it’s going down, and the “puppeteer” device is used as both the mechanism and the justification of the plot’s progression; as Jenkins’ character nonchalantly notes, they rig the game as much as they have to, but if the kids don’t transgress, they can’t be punished.
As is expected by now, the film comes thick with Whedon’s signature dialogue - albeit nowhere near as idiosyncratic as in Firefly/Serenity - and casual but subtle subversions of the very genre conventions the film relies upon: the “jock” is a sociology major, the “dumb” blonde’s sudden libido increase and IQ drop is being manipulated through chemical additives to her hair dye, and the “stoner” is the first one to realise something is not quite right. And let’s not forget the monsters. All of them. Yeah, you thought you were just going to get one lame-ass villain from the guy who created Buffy and Angel? FUCK NO!! This movie has a veritable smorgasbord of monsters. Just not all at the same time, mark you, but fear not, horror fans: after several teases, when it counts, you get plenty of variety AND bang for your buck. Literally; there’s gore and tits and witty banter galore. This is the movie Joss Whedon should have gotten made ten years ago (even if you excuse the fact it was on the shelf for three of those years due to original studio MGM going through a messy bankruptcy).
One of the few major criticisms I've heard regarding Cabin in the Woods is that it’s either “not scary enough” or “not scary at all”, which frankly baffles me, because I happened to find Ghostbusters II and Thomas the Tank Engine terrifying as a child; evidently what one person thinks is scary is all relative and therefore not a sure-fire basis for a critical approach to film-going True, many of the scares are of the jump-variety, but that’s par for the course at this point; most people’s beef with the film is that the tension is frequently sabotaged by the constant cutting away to the orchestration behind the scenes. My counter-argument to this would be “Well, that’s clearly the point! We've seen this movie’s arc dozens, maybe HUNDREDS of times! How can something this overused hold any kind of tension for you?” Kim Newman, who may as well be Official Historian of All That Is Scary, said in his review that the film evokes H.P. Lovecraft and Clive Barker’s work without achieving their sense of existential dread, which I suppose is sort of a valid point, but my lame counter to that would be that the snarky, pastiche-driven nature of the film and of Whedon’s signature dialogue supersedes the level of heavy gloom inherent in either of those two writers’ oeuvre, but that alone shouldn't be held as a criticism of the film. After all, some of the best horror films are comedies in disguise. Personally, my line on the subject of “scary” is this: anyone who has extolled the virtues of Saw or The Human Centipede, but has not seen Videodrome or American Werewolf in London, has no concept of true horror cinema.
However, that does bring us to the other issue some people have taken with the film: its self-awareness. My esteemed colleague, David “Balders” Baldwin, noted that Cabin not only isn't remotely scary, but also doesn't do anything that Scream didn't do 16 years ago. I have to say that I respectfully disagree; whilst Scream was one of the first films to apply the idea of post-modernist horror to cinema, it didn't really use any techniques other than self-reference to achieve this; thus, what you got was a lot of talky scenes of Neve Campbell or Jamie Kennedy or Skeet Ulrich expounding on the banality of formulaic horror movies… whilst playing those same genre tropes out almost without fail. Nowhere in Scream or its sequels does it attempt to subvert the genre on the scale that Cabin does, and its legacy is ultimately one of perpetuating the formula it originally set itself as being detached from. Cabin in the Woods evokes the formula of the horror genre without ever explicitly referring to it like it’s the Holy fucking Bible, so there are no Jamie Lee Curtis or Horror Movie Rules conversations; it’s just the backdrop of the world in which the characters live.
Also, I would further point out to Mr Baldwin that Tucker and Dale vs. Evil is also a post-modern horror comedy featuring a cabin in the woods but those facts doesn't make it inherently more original or fun than Cabin, and that Scream was itself a full 4 years after Whedon’s (admittedly heavily rewritten) Buffy the Vampire Slayer film came out in cinemas, so I'm prepared to argue that Scream’s creator Kevin Williamson is the imitator and not the originator, but that would be a stretch and a nitpick wrapped into one. The point is this is something fans of Joss Whedon have been rooting for a long time: a return to horror, and a return to the big screen. Whether you’re a horror fan or a Buffy fan or just a person who likes good movies, Cabin in the Woods is a juicy little movie with lots going on. Well done, Joss. You've earned it.
I drank the Kool-Aid. Nuff said.
Sunday, 15 April 2012
Part III – Schlock and Roll
To make up for my lack of columns recently, (mostly due to my college workload increasing by 500 per cent,) I've made the effort to give you a double dose of reviews, so for those eager to see what amounts to popcorn entertainment in my book, wade right in.
Darkman – It’s so very easy for people to hate on Sam Raimi based on the well intentioned but scatter-shot Spider-Man 3, but I for one think that he is still one of the few directors who really gets comic books, and that’s a very small list. My evidence – Darkman, the result of Raimi not being able to get the rights to make The Shadow, gives us Liam Neeson as a horrifically scarred scientist who uses artificial skin disguises to take vengeance on the yuppies and gangsters who mutilated him. Verdict: worth it for that one sentence alone.
Dylan Dog: Dead of Night – In more comic book related news, here’s a film starring Brandon Routh and Sam Huntington (Superman Returns), directed by Kevin Munro (the CG-animated TMNT film), and based on an Italian horror comic no-one has heard of but was previously adapted as Dellamorte Dellamore in the 90s with Rupert Everett as the lead. This go-around, Dylan Dog (Routh) is a paranormal investigator based out of a monster-filled
(no surprises there), trying to
juggle a murder case with a rising body count and help his buddy acclimatise to
being one of the newly undead. The surprising news: it doesn't suck! New Orleans
Super 8 – The more I think about this one, the less impressed I am by it, but I will allow that at the time I was swept along with it, which is basically what JJ Abrams does when at his best. The kid actors are all fun in that Goonies/Stand By Me way, especially Elle Fanning as a blatant wish fulfilment fantasy, and the adult cast (Kyle Chandler, Noah Emmerich) are all competent, but this is well-meaning but lightweight fluff at best, lazy riffing on the work of Steven Spielberg and the 70s age of film-making at worst.
The Devil’s Double – Nice to see director Lee Tamahori getting his teeth into something interesting that doesn't skimp on the prerequisite violence and gaudiness levels of his previous work. Dominic Cooper does double duty (not a lazy pun) in the performance of his career as both the bug-nuts son of Saddam Hussein, Uday, and the hapless soldier chosen to be his doppelgänger What follows is a descent into the world of someone pretending to be the son of one of the most hated men in contemporary history, dodging assassination attempts and trying to keep alive and sane long enough to escape the regime.
The Rum Diary – Returning to directing after more than a decade, Bruce Robinson (Withnail & I) and Johnny Depp bring us the long-gestating film adaptation of Hunter Thompson’s first novel. Paul Kemp (Depp), an alcoholic journalist, takes a job at a failing Puerto Rican newspaper and takes in the local colour, i.e. Amber Heard’s Chenault, her sleazy PR man boyfriend Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), and his colleagues Lotterman, Sala (Michael Rispoli channelling Benicio Del Toro’s Doctor Gonzo) and Moberg (Giovanni Ribisi channelling Richard E. Grant’s Withnail). Not the acid-warped genius of Fear and Loathing in
, but a
worthy effort all the same. Las Vegas
The Grey – This is the second Liam Neeson film to pop up in this column, which makes me think he’s determined to steal Chuck Norris’ status as the hardest bastard in popular culture. Not satisfied with beating up Nazis, mediaeval knights, Star Wars villains and Batman, he reteams with A-Team and Smokin’ Aces director Joe Carnahan for a movie in which he plays a security guard stranded by a plane crash in the Alaskan wilderness, trying to reach civilisation before he and the other survivors either freeze to death or get eaten by wolves. You’ll never guess how it ends… seriously.