Unseen Terror 2020: Day 6

For better or for worse, we have this bad boy here to thank for the onslaught of unnecessary remakes and retreads that seemed to plague cinemas for nearly two decades. I briefly recall seeing the trailer for 2003's remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and not being fully aware that this was a reboot rather than a sequel. Of course, now that I've sat through five of these films (of which a couple can arguably be called remakes/reimaginings of the original itself), I feel like perhaps an update would be a right proper move to make. No disrespect to the prior three entries in this franchise, but this series desperately needed to get back to its more terrifying roots. Thankfully it succeeds....kind of.

The plot revolves around a group of friends who pick up a hitchhiker while on their way to a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert. The stranger is seemingly traumatized and quietly murmuring to herself about "everyone being dead," but before they can get any further information about what this means, she pulls a gun from between her legs (like you do) and commits suicide. After pulling over to call the authorities, things start to get worse and worse for the youngsters as they find themselves being harassed and stalked by a plethora of psychotic individuals. Surprisingly, this reboot manages to wrangle up a few familiar faces from the original flick: cinematographer Daniel Pearl, narrator John Larroquette, and even Tobe Hooper & Kim Henkel (though the latter two co-produce this time around). Pearl in particular was a very nice addition: 2003's Chainsaw looks grimy and ugly considering that it still has Hollywood (specifically Michael Bay) deeply involved with it. The film's color palette is dreary and even from the get-go we never really feel as though there is ANY hope in this hellish landscape that we've entered. It's probably the best "aura" that we've seen emitted from a TCM movie since the first film. I do wish that they had stuck to minimal usage of music though: this new entry is a little too "loud" if you get my drift. Sound-wise it's oftentimes too reliant on jump scares, which while entertaining from time to time, don't really instill genuine fear in a lot of people.

In terms of the cast, 2003's Texas Chainsaw Massacre is perfectly adequate. Jessica Biel makes for a good final girl and gets some truly badass moments to shine during the film's final twenty minutes. Full Metal Jacket's R. Lee Ermey makes for a truly great psychopathic sheriff who feels arguably more threatening than the most famous figure in this franchise. Speaking of that, even if I may think that the guy is a complete fucking knob, Andrew Bryniarski makes Leatherface feel threatening for the first time in quite a while. He's imposing and intimidating without seeming too superhuman, even if he's missing some of the more quirky traits that made the villain so interesting to fans. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the cast, because I feel as though this is one of the film's biggest flaws: there isn't a distinctive feature amongst them other than maybe some very small physical traits (that and Biel being a legitimately recognizable face). Yes the original film's cast was nothing super flashy, but there was at least something unique about them. In this picture, they all come across as extremely unlikable, and moments of padding out the film were likely done to help the audience care for them, but I don't think it works very well. Heck even Leatherface's "family" feel like they've been ripped from the big book of redneck stereotypes.

I was expecting to come out of 2003's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre with very mixed emotions, and it turns out that such a thing came to be a reality. It's not a terrible movie by any stretch of the imagination (and from I'm told, I'll come to appreciate it more with what other films come afterwards), but like most modern remakes/retellings, it just doesn't seem to serve any purpose or warrant a reason for existing other than the belief that a lot of younger audiences won't watch "old" horror movies anymore. Funnily enough, this picture could now be considered "nostalgic" for the generation just underneath my own, and I've met an abundance of genre fans who used films like this as a stepping stone for them to dive further into this oh-so wonderful world that we call horror cinema. So despite my mixed feelings, I do acknowledge and respect its importance to horror, whether some other folks may want to or not.

Oh if only this flick was sentient though: it'd owe us an apology for the wave for crappy remakes like The Fog, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, and the like.

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 15

Four young boys save a mentally handicapped child from humiliation and harm by shooing his bullies away. Immediately afterwards, they befriend the mistreated soul, nicknamed "Duddits," and through other circumstances, manage to acquire telepathic powers for themselves. Many years go by, and save for Duddits, the childhood chums have gathered together at a remote cabin for an annual hunting trip and excuses to catch up with one another. One evening, they take in a random, seemingly ill stranger named Rick, who says he was lost in the woods before they found him. After two members of the group venture out for help, the others stick around to watch over the new visitor, but soon realize that something is amiss with the environment around them. Worse yet, our foreign houseguest seems to be harboring something far more sinister than an upset, bloated stomach.



As I have done on more than a couple of occasions this year, let me regale you with a story from my younger days. During my senior year at Montgomery Blair High School, we were given a rather unique, though fun-sounding assignment to complete within a week's time: pick up a novel of your choosing, read it, and then view its big/small screen adaptation in order to make comparisons between the two sources. The best aspect came from being told that save for pornographic material, there would be nothing in the way of restrictions. Being the gigantic nerd and weirdo that I am, opting to choose a work from author Stephen King seemed like a surefire way to ensure a decent grade. However, I soon hit a snag when I realized that the theatrical release for the horror icon's (then) most recent effort Dreamcatcher was set to premiere two days after the deadline of said project. Thankfully, our teacher granted me an exception so that I may properly view the picture without any interference or risk of failure. That, and she was just a very nice person in general.


So, if I did in fact, make my way to the cinema to see Dreamcatcher before, why am I writing about it this time around? Well, there are multiple reasons. The first is that I have virtually no memory of the book, film, or anything in between related to it. The second, though clichéd as it may sound, is due to recent discussions on a number of (social) media outlets and sources, including the excellent How Did This Get Made? podcast, about how atrocious the flick actually is. The idea is that it's one of Stephen King's most ridiculous, messy, awful, and just plain silly handlings to date. After seeing it again for the first time in thirteen years, I came to one simple conclusion in regards to those collective opinions.


They are one hundred and ten percent correct.


To call Dreamcatcher a catastrophe is rather harsh, but calling it anything other than a small train wreck would be wholly immoral. On paper, there is absolutely no chance in hell that it should turn out the way that it does. Your four leads are comprised of Thomas Jane (Boogie Nights, The Punisher), Jason Lee (Chasing Amy, My Name is Earl), Damian Lewis (Homeland, Band of Brothers), and Timothy Olyphant (Deadwood, Justified). Other supporting characters are portrayed by Tom Sizemore (Natural Born Killers, Saving Private Ryan) and MORGAN GODDAMN FREEMAN. Add to that the screenwriters of esteemed releases like The Empire Strikes Back and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and any human being with capable brain power or respectable taste should tell you that Dreamcatcher is too big to fail. Shockingly, and quite surprisingly, none of this seems to matter and is ultimately irrelevant. There is negative chemistry between any and all of our protagonists, with Lee in particular seeming like he just wants to get off the set as quickly as he possibly can and our beloved Shawshank Redemption veteran turning in a wacky performance that is worthy of winning a Razzie or three. When the audience considers what they're working with, be it dialogue, themes, or characters seemingly plagiarized from the creator's own previous compositions (take a shot for every similarity to It and Stand by Me, or for when Freeman's eyebrows seemingly grow larger), the aforementioned factor of bewilderment is more miniscule than we initially thought.


Though pointed out above, I do want to acknowledge the tremendous talent of Mr. William Goldman and Mr. Lawrence Kasdan. Their filmographies, be it as screenplay authors or directors (the latter is in the chair this time around), are truly the stuff of legend. So much so, that I believe Dreamcatcher's story was just too difficult to make into anything but a goofy picture. There are only so many ways that any number of folks can rewrite or reimagine an important plot point that revolves around giant, teethed leeches who crawl out of your posterior in order to attack nearby prey and threats (and are preceded by many instances of flatulence and belching from the host), or a man whose alien parasite sounds like an amusingly stupid impersonation of a British countryman after he has inhabited the body it has chosen (think of when one purposely imitates their boss at a drunken Halloween gathering). Considering that King was recovering from a nasty car accident which almost sent him into retirement, it would not have shocked me to hear of him watching 1986's cult classic Night of the Creeps while he was hopped up on OxyContin. One of the film's more memorable moments involves a creature being confined to a toilet while Lee sits atop in an attempt to prevent its escape. The Maine author said that he wished for this scene to do for bathrooms what Psycho did for showers, which while fine in theory, is immediately shot down when you hear Freeman's character officially refer to them as "Shit Weasels" later on. As someone who unashamedly loves another movie involving rectal-based monsters, I can say that when you bring up the colon as a significant element to take note of, then your serious factor goes into an irrecoverable nosedive.


In the end, despite some interesting ideas such as one's own mind acting as a private library, Dreamcatcher is far too idiotic for anyone to consider it frightening or suspenseful, yet is played too seriously to be properly, unintentionally hilarious. In fact, had this been retooled or marketed as a proper horror-comedy, there is a chance that the experience as whole would have been far more enjoyable, and its legacy left even an ounce stronger than it is. Instead, what you're left with is a giant, smelly turd made up of unoriginality whose source of inspiration is even disowned by the author himself. And if that's coming from the guy who directed Maximum Overdrive, then you know that he means what he says. As a fair warning, I should inform you that the movie is available for streaming via Amazon Prime, and can purchased as either a singular DVD or Blu-Ray from nearly every retail establishment out there (don't be shocked if this is also floating around somewhere at your local supermarket in the side-cap areas). Even better, it is also packaged together with other releases from the early 2000s that also rightfully washed out into the sewer, so you can torture yourself for an entire day if that is your thing.



To the film's credit though, it is still far more coherent and viewable than The Langoliers.



Then again, so is watching snails fuck.




Tomorrow, we dive right in and tackle our yearly anthology pick! And as luck would have it, this choice has far more in common with not just this month's celebratory holiday, but many more to follow...

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 19

Serving as a psychiatrist in a mental hospital, Dr. Miranda Grey has been perplexed by her one of her patient's erratic and psychotic fits, screaming that she has been raped several times while confined behind the walls. Miranda tries her best to not let it bother her, as the comfort of her husband Douglas always seems to help with keeping her grounded. While driving home during a rather stormy evening, the good doctor nearly hits a girl standing in the middle of the road. She offers to call the police or emergency rescue for this stranger, but the woman grabs Dr. Grey and yells wildly, causing her to suddenly and seemingly pass out. After regaining consciousness, Miranda discovers that she is sitting inside of a cell at her own place of employment, having been accused of murdering her own beloved partner.

I should thank my stars and garters that actress Halle Berry doesn't partake in social media. Why you may ask? Because I feel that before I dive into my review for 2003's Gothika, I should discuss her filmography prior to this flick's release. Throughout most of her tenure, the future Ororo Munroe had what could be considered a questionable resume at best, with critical opinions seemingly all over the map. Then, she starred in 1998's political comedy Bulworth, which reminded audiences that she can act rather well when the script is solid and she is surrounded by equally strong performers. For the next four and a half years, Berry followed that up with several big hits such as Swordfish, a big screen iteration of Marvel's X-Men, James Bond entry Die Another Day, and even won herself an Academy Award for the powerful Monster's Ball. After a nice turn in X2: X-Men United, something catastrophic happened. That particular event was 2004's dreadful Catwoman, which will go down as a comic book adaptation that is so atrocious, it will make you want to revisit that OTHER dud from this year and remind yourself that

Soon, the string of hit or miss pictures came tumbling in once more with X-Men: The Last Stand, Robots, and Perfect Stranger being notable, if not unimpressive standouts. If you ask me though, I think that we can trace the real beginning of this stream of strange choices to Mathieu Kassovitz's supernatural horror film Gothika, which still stands as the top grossing picture to be affiliated with production company Dark Castle Entertainment. Don't recognize that name? Well, they were formed by Hollywood notables Robert Zemeckis (Back To The Future, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Forrest Gump), Joel Silver (Predator, Die Hard), and Gilbert Adler (Bordello Of Blood, Demon Knight) as a tribute to 50s and 60s horror icon William Castle. Originally, the plans were going to revolve around remaking the director's most influential works, but the trio only got away with accomplishing this three times (House Of Max, Thir13en Ghosts, House On Haunted Hill) before settling into picking up original concepts instead. Ideas like the preachy mess known as The Reaping. And I'm sorry that I had to bring up those aforementioned movies when you were probably still drinking so that you could ignore their existence.

With all of that being said, I'm going to come to Berry's defense here. Most of what makes Gothika such an insufferable bore has nothing to do with its lead actress. She does her best to act surprised and scared when she's initially thrown into the asylum (which seems to resemble a prison more than a mental institution), though she could learn to scream a tad less. It borders dangerously close to Laura Regan-levels of annoyance, but at least I didn't find myself wanting to fall asleep like I did with They. Heck, even her main supporting cast like Penelope Cruz (Vanilla Sky) and Robert Downey Jr. (Iron Man, Tropic Thunder), for what importance they may possibly serve, are at least attempting to act with straight faces. No, what kills Gothika is that its script is utter, cliched crap, filled with way too many instances of scenes that feature exchanges of dialogue lifted from straight-to-video flicks. Perhaps that isn't too shocking when you see that screenwriter Sebastian Gutierrez's other works include Rise: Blood Hunter, She Creature, and the notorious Snakes On A Plane. If you have anything resembling a functioning brain, your first pondering hunch that relates to a plot point is most likely going to end up being true. I lost count with how many times I saw something coming from a mile away, including its main twist and final sequence. Speaking of that, the most terrifying aspect of Gothika comes from having to listen to Limp Bizkit's cover of The Who's "Behind Blue Eyes" that plays over the end credits. Thank god rap-rock and nu metal are mostly dead. Well, unless you're stuck in the hardcore punk scene, where it seems to have made an ironic comeback.

Given that I was originally going to type a mere sentence akin to "this movie is bad and you should feel bad," I think that I've talked about this motion picture more than any human being in this decade should have ever done. If you're a newcomer to this beloved genre, then there may be some slight, easy enjoyment to be had with Gothika. If you're relatively experienced or have actually partaken in viewing films released prior to the previous two decades, or if  you can't stomach awful editing and lighting that makes Aliens Vs Predator: Requiem seem like a 3D Disney movie, I see no reason for you to waste your time on this annoying, predictable dreck. At the time of this review, Halle Berry's first foray into horror is available to purchase on DVD and Blu-Ray, and can be rented for $2.99 on Amazon Prime and Youtube.

Tomorrow, it's shark time motherfuckers! Unfortunately, the time for Open Water has passed, but perhaps I can look even further into the past for a good time...

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 2

Three years have passed since the "Judas Breed," a newer scientifically-designed brand of insect created to combat rare diseases, grew to an immense size and began to hunt down humankind, their only true threat. While initially thought to have been completely eradicated in an underground explosion, entomologist Remi Panos, comrade to Judas Breed creator Susan Tyler, theorizes that some of these bugs may have survived after all. Worse yet, the strand may have begun to evolve and take on new characteristics, including the ability to physically resemble human beings.


No, that tagline listed on the home video is far from being accurate. At all. There are numerous ways to get rid of what essentially is a giant cockroach with sharpened legs and the ability to use them as weapons. Fire and guns do wonders.


Now that I've gotten that little bit of misleading garbage out of the way, I'm quite certain that Mimic 2: Hardshell (a subtitle that I'm convinced was only inserted to attract Netflix viewers since I can't seem to find it on many other releases of the film) is hardly the type of end result that Guillermo Del Toro, director of the previous installment, would have ever imagined would occur after his noted box office disappointment was released in 1998. If they chosen to subtitle it "Halfshell," and the movie had been about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles contracting rabies, then maybe the end result would have made for a better experience.


Alix Koromzy reprises her role as Remi Panos, the best friend to Mira Sorvino from the first film. It was nice to see a familiar face return, but to be honest, she was barely familiar to someone like myself. The lady is nearly unrecognizable, and it wasn't until the very end that I recalled her being in Mimic at all, especially since she only had about ten or fifteen minutes worth of screen time in Del Toro's picture. It's the equivalent of if Danny Cooksey's character from Terminator 2: Judgement Day was cast as the lead in a future sequel. By no means is she an unsympathetic character, but the problem with Remi taking center stage is that she is almost too weird for her own good. While complaining about being an "oddball magnet" earlier on, she proceeds to go on a date wherein she does absolutely nothing but talk about the reproductive cycle of assorted insects. Look, I'm the furthest thing from a casanova, but just because you're passionate about something out of the ordinary, doesn't mean you should bring it up during dinner conversation. There's a reason that I won't gush about Godzilla films to most women that I meet. Koromzy could have gushed more in scenes outside of this one though, since she seems to resemble and channel a zombified Cynthia Nixon whenever she has to act or read important lines.


She's joined by a kid who loves to do hoodrat stuff with his friends, and a horny ex-student who seems like he took all of his cues from the cast of The Outsiders, but forgot to add any interesting traits outside of those to help him stand out. They find themselves holed up inside of a school (which at one point contains an all-too-brief appearance from character actor Jon Polito), and the film turns into a copy of the previous installment, with the trio to survive until help arrives or the school if fumigated. Which itself was a ripoff of certain events from Alien & Aliens. This comparison isn't necessarily a bad thing, because hey, if you're going to steal from another franchise, it might as well be from a good one, but it doesn't establish an identity for itself (tell me that the final twenty minutes isn't similar to Ridley Scott's picture and I will argue with you for approximately sixty seconds).


I feel like I haven't taken any time to discuss the Judas Breed bugs themselves though. They're certainly more bloodthirsty this time around, and they product a higher body count than GDT's previous film did. The special and visual effects behind some of the creatures do look admirable, at least when you consider that this went straight-to-DVD. It almost makes you forget that there's an abundance of that dreaded early-2000s CGI scattered throughout as well. Up close, they look fairly impressive, and you can see that there was some level of respect retained from the original. But then, the new plot twist takes effect, with the breed learning how to wear human faces (seriously) and the movie just kind of takes a sharp nosedive because of it. Mimic 2's conclusion also inspires way too many unintentional laughs, with the final prop and act committed to said prop make it look like something out of a Gwar show.


Without spoiling too many other plot elements, I can sum up Mimic 2 in one "Simpsons" quote: "Aww,  so that's what's wrong with the little fella: he misses casual sex." You do the thinking yourself there. Despite a few bright spots here and there, you can pretty much hit this one with a can of raid and stick with the first film, which while being far from perfect (shameless review link here), was infinitely more enjoyable and at least had the message of not trying to play god or misuse science.

Young adult Marvin, one of several survivors of the infamous disease that spread throughout Manhattan children in 1998, spends his day holed up in his room due to an intense sensitivity to chemicals in the environment. In order to help fight the threat of boredom, he takes numerous photos of his surrounding neighbors from his apartment window. Over the course of several days, Marvin and younger sister Rosy take heed of several disappearances around the surrounding area, including those of whom Marvin has photographed before. Through investigation, the siblings discover that the culprits may have a truly frightening connection to the young man's past.


From the opening scene of a child being brutally murdered by a cloaked, killer bug, I was under the assumption that Mimic 3: Sentinel was trying to go for more cheap thrills and be another generic nature-gone-amok motion picture. But then I glanced at the cast list, and saw far more familiar faces than I ever thought I would. My confidence that perhaps quality could be delivered from this second, and most likely unneeded sequel, had risen ever so slightly.


Mimic 3: Sentinel should truthfully be called Rear Window: Now With Bugs! It's far from an original concept, and is even more blatant with paying tribute to superior directors and pictures. But like I said above, if you're going to rip somebody off, you might as well take it from someone with talent. It does actually boast some Hitchcockian themes, including the idea of toying with the audience during pivotal segments, and choosing to build to a shock rather than rush things. But that's the last time you'll ever hear me bring up that legend's name in a review about a flick which features a man getting stabbed in the face who still manages to fire off a shotgun several seconds later, and yet does no damage despite landing a clear headshot himself.


The slower pacing of the third film is both its greatest asset and its biggest downfall. Writer and director J.T. Petty, who would go on to direct the pretty darn great The Burrowers (shameless review link number two here) has no doubt that he wants the audience to care, and root for, its heroes and protagonists. He accomplishes it better than I expected him to, but outside of Marvin and his sister Rosy (who you may identify from Broken Flowers), there are far too many expendable secondary ones who serve as nothing but food for the bugs. Even Amanda Plummer, playing Marvin's mother, and Lance Henriksen, playing a withdrawn and mysterious neighbor only nicknamed "The Garbageman," don't serve much of a point, as they're both in the movie for about ten to twelve minutes apiece. Because of this, the final act feels like an afterthought, speeding to a conclusion that felt like it was written on the day of shooting. Mimic 3: Sentinel also boasts a running time of seventy seven minutes, which is criminal for a movie such as this. Even the bugs themselves, which are hidden by terrible lighting (or lack thereof), don't get much screen time until the final act. How this film cost ten million dollars to make is flabbergasting to me, especially since the terrible CGI from Mimic 2 seems to have been carried over to this installment as well.


I would have been more than happy to give J.T. Petty's sequel a recommendation had the wrap-up not been so rushed (plus the film doesn't conclude as much as it just…stops), and the film had added a good twenty minutes or more to its running time. As it stands, Mimic 3: Sentinel is only decent enough to warrant an afternoon viewing out of sheer boredom and desperation to kill time.



Or if you have a secret desire to see Honey Pie from Pulp Fiction get stabbed by a giant bug and then set aflame.



Tomorrow, we're taking a break from the bugs and picking up some hot, new toys with Annabelle!