Unseen Terror 2018: Day 1

I won't lie to the few of you who do read this. I had lost a lot of energy and interest for maintaining this blog, as I felt it was (and still is) easier to post and keep track of my reviews through other social media outlets such as Letterboxd (find me on there as Woodshatter1985) and even Instagram. The process of writing full-length thoughts that occasionally devolved into ramblings and excuses to pad out the breakdown of movies seemed less problematic through those sites. My love for cinema will likely never die, but this blog very well could.


And yet....

....you can bet your ass that while a majority of my "big" movie reviews will still end up on Letterboxd, this yearly marathon, wherein I watch at least thirty-one different horror-related motion pictures for the first time, ain't going anywhere. This began in 2011 as a passion project, and it will continue to exist so long as I don't lose the ability to hear or see. Besides, what else am I going to do with all of these recent purchases? Let them collect dust? Sell them to sketchy individuals on sites like Craigslist? Let's jump right in, shall we?

The Carters are your average American family partaking in your average American vacation. While on the road to Los Angeles, they stop near the Nevada desert for gas. The owner of the store, an elderly gentleman named Fred, urges them to not stray from their path and stick to the main road. Not fully heeding his advice, they swerve and crash after nearly running over a rabbit. Bob, the father of the Carters, decides to walk on foot back to Fred's for assistance while the other members are left to care for the damaged vehicle. It doesn't take long for this group to realize that something is very amiss, as strange and mortifying incidents begin to occur, including the disappearance and mutilation of one of the family pets. It's a distinct possibility that out in the wide, blazing desert, they aren't as alone as they may think they are.



It has been uttered many times since the untimely and tragic demise of Wes Craven that the man helped to reinvent the horror genre on at least three separate occasions. The most notable features in his catalog are The Last House on the Left, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and Scream. Lost among those juggernauts, however, are some real underrated and equally noteworthy gems. I've previously reviewed flicks like The Serpent and the Rainbow for Unseen Terror, and I'll even champion some of his later works like Red Eye. While compiling this year's list, it suddenly occurred to me that I had somehow never seen his 1977 effort The Hills Have Eyes, which is held in very high regard by the horror community. So, with Arrow Video having recently re-released it on Blu-ray (more on that below), let's dive right into this story about cannibals out in the middle of the desert.


The first thing you notice about this late 70s flick is that it looks very, very dirty. Throughout its brisk running time, The Hills Have Eyes just looks scuzzy, which gives it a very uncomfortable vibe. It feels as though the people behind the camera and in the director's chair were intent on making you feel like you could potentially be watching an underground tape of innocents preparing to be attacked and eaten in the future. In a way that I'm certain wasn't coincidental, it resembles some other pictures from around the same time period such as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the like. It's an ugly view of what some still perceive to be a beautiful world in the eyes of mom and pop. This is pure grindhouse and midnight movie madness, and I can imagine that this would have made for an excellent late night feature at your local cineplex back in the day.


Outside of the strange aura, Craven's effort sports a very fine cast of performers in front of the camera. Fan favorite Dee Wallace (Cujo, E.T., Critters) is instantly recognizable and even newcomers like myself shouldn't have much difficulty identifying the rather creepy Michael Berryman, whose career was kickstarted thanks to an appearance in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and his portrayal here of a lunatic cannibal who is intent on just trying to help his other family members survive, no matter what kind of despicable acts he may have to commit alongside of them. As good as he is, his brethren are equally as sinister. Cannibal dad Jupiter (James Whitworth) and Berryman's brother Mars (Lance Gordon) lead many of these horrible acts, including a crucifixion and a late night assault on a trailer, in what had to be one of the most intense sequences I've seen in any Craven-directed movie. Accompanying most of the terrifying moments is a rather good score from Don Peake, whose pieces could be isolated and played outside of your complex to scare away nearly anyone. Hills is forty years old, and yet something like this could easily rival anything put out in theaters these days. There is one ray of light in the hills folks though, as youngest sibling Ruby (Janus Blythe) is constantly abused because even she can see that what constantly happens around her is wrong. The cruelty and just flat-out "meanness" of these crimes and acts can be a major turnoff for those who are just looking for their horror movies to be dumb and fun, but all one has to do is look at the plot synopsis to realize that this isn't going to be a walk in the park.


All of my praising aside, there are some very minor things to nitpick about The Hills Have Eyes. Outside of the villains, who are very charismatic and immediately memorable, I didn't find any of the main cast to be anything special. Dee Wallace is good as always, but there were often times where I felt as though some of their acting was a bit stifled. Mercifully, their numbers are thinned out after the second act, so that complaint became nearly null and void. It also does take quite a bit for things to start getting really interesting, so some of the more impatient horror fans could end up staring at their phones more than they should (*cue angrily shaking fist at damn kids these days*). And despite the fact that the final twenty minutes do emphasize that this is ultimately a battle of family v. family and that perhaps we ourselves are more monstrous than we initially thought (there is undoubtedly some hidden messages in here about the treatment of those "different" from us), the ending is kind of a wet fart. Yet after viewing the alternate one on the Blu-ray, I suppose that it is slightly more fitting.


I'm rather glad that I started off this year's marathon with The Hills Have Eyes. It's a demented little experience that's chocked full of creepy moments, memorable antagonists, and it sports one of the best middle segments that I've seen in a Craven movie to date. If you have the cash to spare, make sure to nab the previously-mentioned Blu-Ray from Arrow Video. This thing is CRAMMED with special features, including retrospective pieces, three commentary tracks, outtakes, and a great 4K restoration which gives the viewer what must have felt like the most authentic theatrical experience possible. There's also a wonderful foldout, double-sided poster and a thirty-four page booklet which discusses various aspects of the release, including its impact on the genre and how they were able to work on the transfer for this home video release. It should make a bloody great addition to your collection.



Speaking of bloody, this is also equally the best and worst advertisement for owning a German Shepherd. On one hand, they can be panicky. On the other, they can prove to be more efficient killers than anything that walks on two legs. Neat.



Tomorrow, we're venturing far away from the desert and down to the bottom of the sea! Will I find hidden treasures? Or should what lurks in the "Deep" put me out of my misery as soon as humanly possible?

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 8

A serial killer is on the loose in Los Angeles, having amassed a large body count in a surprisingly short amount of time. One detective, Lt. Don Parker, is close to discovering the individual's identity, while his foster son Jonathan has reported having strange visions and dreams which could reveal his face and whereabouts as well. When they appear to be getting closer, the killer begins to target, and even slay their loved ones. Eventually, the slasher, whose identity is revealed to be that of a deranged television repairman named Horace Pinker, is captured and sentenced to die in the electric chair. On the night of his execution, something seems to go awry. Yes, the madman doesn't go as quietly and quickly as he should, but what is more shocking is that while his physical body may cease to be, there is a possibility that he has survived and returned from beyond the grave using rather unconventional methods.



Let's not mince words here: Wes Craven, the dearly-departed and sorely missed legendary filmmaker who changed the horror game on more than a few occasions, will go down as arguably one of the top five (if not top three) directors in the genre. Hell, even some of his weaker efforts, though trashed by critics upon release, are still watchable and arguably undeserving of the thrashings that they received during their opening weekends (it can only be called an act of some greater deity that Cursed is still somewhat cohesive considering the hell that it went through). While determining which of his projects I could add to this year's marathon, I was admittedly having quite the difficult time. Then I noticed something rather unusual: I had never sat down to watch Shocker, the final film of his to be released during the 1980s. The likely result would be that either this little ditty would catch me by surprise the same way that his prior film did, or I would find it too boring for my taste like Deadly Blessing was.


Off the bat, you will notice that a large portion of Shocker's plot and overall demeanor is ripped straight from a very notable horror movie that also had Craven's name attached to it. Around this time period, the father of Freddy Krueger was not shy about speaking his mind when it came to the treatment of the Nightmare series (viewing the excellent Never Sleep Again documentary sheds more light on that). Despite writing and producing the third installment in that franchise, the signs were there that future sequels were going to become decidedly more comical, while toning down the genuine terror and uneasy feelings that came about from the initial film. It's understandable to feel that way, but while sitting through Shocker, it almost feels as though he was simultaneously making fun of New Line Cinema's practices while also succumbing to the problems that he was vocal about disliking. Because of it, Shocker's tone is all over the place. The jokes that litter most of its running time feel like leftovers from first drafts of fan-made Nightmare scripts, and the first third feels like it was aiming to be a genuinely chilling thriller with how much seriousness future X-Files standout Mitch Pileggi puts into his performance as Horace Pinker. I'd be very curious to hear about Wes Craven's writing process behind creating the script for this one.


Cast-wise everybody is actually fairly decent (keep your eye out for a Heather Langenkamp cameo), if not flat-out good considering the weird circumstances and picture that they are involved in. Peter Berg, who would go on to direct motion pictures such as Patriots Day and Hancock, makes for a sympathetic and lively protagonist, even if he is a near-carbon copy of Nancy Thompson from ANOES but with an added pair of testicles. He's a jock with a heart of gold and determination that never wanes during the entirety of Shocker, even if his sanity may begin to. I've already briefly touched on Pileggi's portrayal as our psychotic antagonist, so there isn't a great deal more than I can add to this. When he wants to be scary, the man can pull it off better than I expected him to. But when he has to go into slapstick mode, which comprises a large portion of the third act, he just isn't given the strongest of material to work with and lacks the same tongue-in-cheek charm that someone like Robert Englund naturally possesses. He's also a bit of an underwhelming murderer when it comes down to it, as his body count is significantly higher and more impressive when he was a living, breathing human being. Pinker does get a chance to partake in some amusing bits though, including taking control of a little girl and attempting to run Berg's character down with a construction vehicle. There is also an extremely silly addition to the plot of Shocker that begins before the second act kicks in and the overuse of heavy metal songs scattered throughout (Megadeth covering "No More Mr. Nice Guy" is a standout), and depending on your tolerance for absurd twists and technical aspects in horror films, you may find yourself laughing far more than you should. I for one felt as if I were channeling the great Rich Evans during certain scenes.


At the end of the day, Shocker is pretty stupid. But thankfully, it's a better shade of stupid, such as when you sit down to watch pictures like The Room or Pocket Ninjas with a group of friends and bring the finest of beverages with you (be they alcoholic or non). This 1989 flick is absolutely NOT the worst thing that Wes has his name attached to, but I personally wouldn't strongly recommend that you rush out and grab a copy unless you know what you are getting into or want to see the (possibly?) uncredited inspiration for the first segment of "Treehouse of Horror IX." If you would like to take that chance, however, Shout! Factory has released a Blu-ray of the movie for a surprisingly cheap amount of money, and there have been petitions online demanding that an unrated cut be released to the general public at some point during our lifetimes.



And at this point, it's probably got a better chance for an uncensored cut to hit the stores than The Devils does.

Tomorrow, we say hello to Brad Dourif again, but this time, his problems lie in the hands of something less human and more mechanical...

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 26 & Day 27

Well, we're getting down to the nitty gritty of this year's Unseen Terror, and I won't mince words when I say that I am a tad bit drained (both mentally and physically). Still, no rest for the wicked right? Speaking of that, let us venture into the familiar realm of the sadly-departed Wes Craven, shall we?

Day 26 was kicked off by what I would refer to as one of the director's "transitional" projects. Released four years after breakout hit The Hills Have Eyes, but only three years prior to our first interaction with a particular claw-adjourned psycho, 1981's Deadly Blessing is an odd little picture. The plot concerns a widow who is still mourning the loss of her husband, as he was killed under mysterious circumstances via a tractor pinning and crushing him against a wall (happens all the time). At his funeral, she notices the members of his old religious community mourning him from afar. When the woman's friends arrive to check up on her, a series of strange events begin to occur, and they start to wonder if these previously-seen individuals have diabolical plans for the lot of them.


Though it's the furthest thing from a completely original concept, the initial storyline for Deadly Blessing had me intrigued. After all, there is far more to fear when it comes to the influence of organized religion than with any boogeyman or unnatural creature. There's always a good opportunity to craft a movie with a sense of dread, intrigue, and atmosphere. Hell, the masterful gentleman was even smart enough to bring back Eyes character actor Michael Berryman in a small role, and the distinguishable-looking Ernest Borgnine as a memorable, bearded leader of the not-quite-Amish folks who frequently view the widow as an "Incubus." Finally, there's a young Sharon Stone (Basic Instinct, Casino), who at the rather young age of twenty-three, willingly allowed a real spider to be dropped into her open mouth. Hey, it can only go uphill for you from there hon.


So, with all of that working in the film's favor, does it amount to a good experience? Unfortunately, I would have to say that it does not. The ideas of exploring the evils of cults and digging deep within a secluded society of those who adhere to a strict set of rules is fine. As mentioned above, given the time period when this came out, it feels as though Craven was just sort of trying to go for a different approach to horror after being (unfairly) dismissed as a director who dealt exclusively in nasty motion pictures that appealed to only the most sadistic of viewers. But my goodness, does Deadly Blessing drag. A lot. Playing out more like a darker mystery or suspense flick rather than a traditional scary one, it feels disappointingly restrained, mostly uneventful, and quite tame (save for the rather insane final twenty-something minutes).


Deadly Blessing just never really feels like it lives up to its own potential. As blasphemous as this may sound, I think that if the decision were made to remake this, I would be the furthest thing from upset. All of the little flaws scattered throughout and the frequently sluggish pace can be easily fixed if it is put into the hands of competent filmmakers (someone like an Adam Wingard or Ti West could probably knock this out of the park). Still, if you are a Craven collector, and haven't let my negative words discourage your interest, there is a Blu-Ray available from reputable distributor Scream! Factory, and it is available to watch on the Amazon Prime streaming service.



And when you consider that this looks no different from a made-for-TV presentation, I don't see any way that the picture quality or restroration on an actual disc format doesn't look infinitely better in comparison.




Hmm, sounds like I could use a picker-upper though, right? Let's take a gander and see what's out there....

...............................................................nah.

To absolutely no one's surprise, I am cheating again (cue Eddie Guerrero jokes) for Day 27's entry. I have watched Wes Craven's return to the essential positions of the franchise he helped spawn (a feat that even he never suspected would, or should have happened) on more than a few occasions. Bluntly and brilliantly-titled Wes Craven's New Nightmare, the movie was a much needed return to form for not just the distinguished writer/director himself, but for the iconic Freddy Krueger as well. Despite my enjoyment of the various sequels that preceded this, there was no arguing that the Nightmare on Elm Street series had degenerated into a bit too much camp and not enough genuine intensity or horror. And yet, considering that the sixth sequel to the 1984 classic has more than a few of its original cast members returning, it is a non-canonical movie.


In an attempt to breathe some new life into the (then) rotting corpse of the maligned slasher genre, studio head Bob Shaye contacted Craven, asking that he return to the big man's chair and somehow find a way to bring Freddy Krueger back to life. Yes, fictional serial killers have escaped death multiple times throughout the years, but film distributors New Line Cinema had said themselves that there would be no continuation in this franchise after a fitting, titular conclusion was released to theaters in 1991. Unsurprisingly, Wes was not interested in concocting some absurd premise behind the dream master's resurrection. Instead, a very ballsy idea was put from pen to screen: we were going to bear witness to what folks would classify as a "meta" picture. True, this type of practice was not completely uncommon (1985's Return of the Living Dead also toyed with the possibilities), but given that previous outings had included sequences wherein victims were transformed into pizza toppings or shoved headfirst into a television, this could be harder to pull off than one would think.


The story for New Nightmare begins with Heather Langenkamp, the star of the original 1984 picture, having graphic, horrific nightmares that deal with mishaps on the set of a new Elm Street flick. Even stranger is the constant harassment that she has been receiving from a fan through the mail and over the phone, who constantly spouts quotes from the series' antagonist (which the actress had dealt with in real life). It also seems to reflect onto her own son Dylan (Pet Sematary's Miko Hughes), as he has been dealing with issues of his own that are related to sleepwalking and traumatizing episodes. Initially dismissing these as just freak occurrences, Heather is soon approached by film studio New Line Cinema, who ask that she reprise her role as Nancy Thompson in a sequel. Reluctantly, she agrees to take the part, but only after discovering that her husband Chase has been working on the project in secret. One evening, Dylan is caught viewing the first film on television, and as Heather awakens him from his night terror, Chase is contacted to immediately return to the house, but falls asleep at the wheel and perishes rather brutally (with his body in the morgue sporting multiple slashes across the chest). Following his funeral, a queer set of events begins to unwind, which sees the truth about Freddy Krueger's entire reason for existing coming to light.


There is certainly more than a few instances of cleverness found throughout New Nightmare's aforementioned synopsis, whether they're in the homages to several iconic scenes from its cinematic forefather, or even just in the way that Craven and crew manage to take a few tiny shots at how absurd the dumbing down of the franchise has become, which includes seeing children in the audience of a talk show where Robert Englund is supposed to appear (in complete costume no less!). Most of the creator's vision is fully realized here, and he smartly brings Krueger back to his origins as a nearly-inescapable evil with malicious intentions and no time to joke around. Freddy also receives an upgrade in the costume and makeup department: he appears to be much closer in appearance to a proper burn victim, with more sinister-looking eyes, a trenchcoat, and a reconstructed glove that is more skeletal and grossly organic in design. Purportedly, this is what was conceived during the first film's pre-production stages, but for whatever reason, it never came to be until now.


At this point, it should be the furthest thing from a shock to hear that the cast of characters in an Elm Street film are pretty fabulous. Tracy Middendorf, who would ironically pop up again down the line in MTV's Scream television series, plays Julie the babysitter. Limited as her screen time may be, the young lady has tons of spunk and personality, and had this iteration in the franchise not existed, I think that writing some variation of her as a potential lead or love interest to another protagonist would have been great to see. We also see the reappearance of series veterans like John Saxon, Lin Shaye, and (naturally) Robert Englund, who I'm certain was fairly excited to be playing a far more serious version of the villain that fourteen-year-olds constantly ask him about at horror conventions. Then again, he's never half-assed it in any of the subsequent follow-ups. But, the highest praise has to be reserved for the wonderful Heather Langenkamp, who is out in full force here. Channeling unbridled rage, frustration, and passion that no doubt came from a myriad of incidents related to/following her initial casting from back in the day, she turns in what I personally consider to be her finest performance to date as an actress. She has grown as a person in so many ways (as has every single soul from film #1) and it reflects here. Miko Hughes plays a good toddler in terror as well, and even if I can be down on kid actors from time to time, I've always felt extremely sympathetic every time that he is being terrorized here. I mean, who wouldn't scream if a horribly deformed man tried to unhinge his jaw like a snake and swallow you whole?


Though any respectable fan of the scarier side of cinema knows well enough by now, New Nightmare is a truly great entry in the Elm Street saga. It stands as a delicacy for longstanding fans, casual newcomers, and those who express interest in the sort of morose, bizarre obsessions with horror's influence on the general populace and the continuous need for milking a cash cow. Furthermore, it is one of the few self-reflective pictures in this subgenre that I firmly believes needs more projects akin to it. Unbeknownst to the audiences who ventured out to see it, New Nightmare would also serve as a prototype of sorts for another Craven-led ditty that would change the game (again). Currently, the film can be purchased in a wonderful Blu-Ray box set with the other entries in this franchise, and is available to stream on Netflix along with another underrated Craven flick in Scream 2.



Which leads me to close off today (and yesterday's) entries with an older tweet that comes courtesy of film critic Kim Newman: "Wes Craven reinvented horror at least four times - most directors don't even manage it once." Despite an occasional hiccup here and there, the man's filmography is the type of resume that most will strive to achieve, though I'll be damned it they can even come close.



Rest in power Wes. I love you and miss you.




Tomorrow, I'm in the mood for some rock and/or roll to go with my cinematic terror. Who's with me?!

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 21

Driving home after visiting her boyfriend, crew member Ellie Myers picks up her younger brother Jimmy from high school. While heading down a highway in Los Angeles, California, the two accidentally hit another car, and oddly enough, a large, unseen animal. They are shocked to discover that the passenger of the other vehicle is still alive, but before they can rescue the young woman, she is dragged out of her driver's seat by a creature that they only catch a glimpse of. In the ensuing chaos, Ellie and Jimmy are cut by the beast's claws, but the police and EMTs arrive too late to save the other motorist, who has been torn to shreds. Though the two relatives are spooked, everything still seems to be normal. However, when Ellie and Jimmy begin to act rather peculiar, the latter digs around and contemplates the fact that they may now bare the mark of a beast; one which transforms at the sight of a full moon and is driven to kill.



You know, Cursed isn't THAT bad of a movie.


Wait, before you scoff at me for being too soft, let me explain.


If you were to look for a more appropriately-titled flick for something such as this marathon that I do every year, one of your first and easiest picks would be the late Wes Craven's only foray into the werewolf genre. As for why this was his lone attempt at making a movie about lycanthropy? Well, that can be attributed to an unusually large amount of what can only be described as "frequent studio interference." Or, to quote another film distributed by the same company as Cursed, "Fucking Miramax." The original script for this picture, which was conceived back in the year 2000, had some similarities to the final results seen here, but with a lot of notable changes in the cast and backgrounds to their characters. For starters, there was no sibling angle, as there were three random strangers who were brought together as the result of a random werewolf attack, and a possible love triangle would build throughout its first and middle acts. No, several executives thought that this just wasn't marketable enough. How about just making Christina Ricci (The Addams Family) and Jesse Eisenberg (The Social Network) into orphans with no chemistry and erasing the third character altogether (who was originally supposed to be Skeet Ulrich of Scream fame)?


But it didn't stop there. For nearly two years, a substantial number of alterations were made to Cursed while it was still being recorded by Craven and his crew. Several cast members' parts and/or scenes were erased due to time restraints and scheduling conflicts. These included A Walk To Remember's Mandy Moore (who was replaced by R&B singer Mya), Heather Langenkamp (A Nightmare On Elm Street), Omar Epps (House), and a good handful of other recognizable actors and actresses. Hell, Christina Ricci's character works for former Late Late Show host Craig Kilborn, and by the time of Cursed's theatrical release, her "boss" no longer worked at CBS! Oh, and at least half of the script was rewritten, meaning that much of the film itself had to be re-shot, delaying its release until god knows when. So with all of that tomfoolery that took place behind the scenes, it almost seemed destined to fail, especially when it finally dropped during the first two months of the new year, which is what most would call "dump time" for motion pictures.


And yet, this guy has seen far worse flicks than Cursed, especially considering that I was nervous after hearing of all the critical shellacking that it has received over the years. I won't name a particular person in question, but one critic for a popular website went on to say something akin to "this is the worst werewolf movie ever." Excuse me, but we live in a world where there are EIGHT sequels to The Howling, An American Werewolf In Paris, and VAN FUCKING HELSING. I may have to respectfully disagree with you there. I wonder if he would still stand by that sentence after sitting through the Twilight series? Anyways, I'm getting off topic.


I'm sure that Miramax heads Bob and Harvey Weinstein wanted to present Cursed as the lycanthrope equivalent to writer Kevin Williamson's previously successful series of screenplays that ended up becoming the Scream saga. Unfortunately, the script provided for the final cut lacks the clever meta jokes and wicked sense of humor that was found in those pictures, and whether every single one of these was Williamson's choice or not, the primary odor you smell belongs to him. Noticeably, it falls into the tropes and cliches that riddled his previous projects, including an updated version of his "Barrymore kill" and red herring scenarios that are direct ripoffs of the aforementioned series of films. On the plus side, co-star Eisenberg and some of the supporting cast like Judy Greer (who will always be cast as either a mom or a bitch) do produce a small measure of chuckles here and there. Christina Ricci is written to resemble a mostly straight-laced protagonist, but unlike her slumbering on-screen boyfriend Joshua Jackson (Dawson's Creek), she can actually feign being interested in this experience. So cast-wise, everything turns out slightly better than expected. But behind the camera? Well, that's a different story. Most of Cursed's problems and downfalls come from the realm of post-production, and considering that I watched only the theatrical cut, thereby missing out on so much of its intended blood and gore, oh boy is it bad. There is extremely bad editing that is prominent within the first ten minutes of its running time (though I'm willing to bet that it was due to Miramax's demand to make a PG-13 product out of a very graphic R-rated one), shaky camera techniques that prevent the audience from seeing anything fascinating that comes about from the antagonist's kills, and some of the absolute worst CGI that you'll see from the previous decade. Considering how high the bar had been set by masters of makeup such as Rob Bottin (The Howling) and Rick Baker (An American Werewolf In London), you would think that trying to equal or possibly usurp them would make for a fun challenge. You would be dead wrong. It's a cheap route that produces absolutely no genuine scares from beginning to end, though I suppose that getting to see a cheap-looking computer-generated monster give policemen the middle finger is some sort of compensation.


For all of the hell that Cursed went through during and after production, it's a god damn miracle that it turns out to be fairly watchable. Of course, it's still a deeply flawed movie with problems and continuity goofs that are painfully obvious to anyone with a keen eye, but I still don't think that it makes for a bad time (and most certainly not one that's offensive either). If you've got nothing important to do, or just need an excuse to watch every single movie involving these mythical beasts, it's available to watch on Netflix Instant Streaming and Amazon Prime. You can also buy it (though I wouldn't recommend that) on DVD or Blu-Ray for roughly the same cost as a Flaming Amy's burrito.



And besides, if you come back to me saying that you'd rather watch something like They or Pinocchio's Revenge over this...

Tomorrow, we dive right into what I'd arguably call one of the rougher years for cinematic releases in the territory of horror, and my choice of what to watch should be verifiable proof of it...

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 18

After receiving a sudden phone call, Julia Lund, a grad student working in the field of psychology, meets with an old acquaintance named Billy at an all-night diner. Once she has arrived, the two reminisce about night terrors that occurred frequently in their youth, and Billy confesses to an intense fear of darkness. Speculating that these panics are actually of supernatural origin, the troubled and frightened man commits suicide in front of Julia once the restaurant's lights begin to flicker. Though at first she is horrified, the young woman begins to realize that maybe her forgotten friend had the right to be afraid, and that perhaps what haunted them during yesteryears is coming back for her.



2002 was a fantastic year for fans of the more macabre side of cinema. Game changers like 28 Days Later, May, Ju-On, and The Ring shocked and creeped out audiences and critics alike. If you wanted pure popcorn entertainment, you also had projects like Eight Legged Freaks, Blade II, Cabin Fever, Dog Soldiers, Bubba Ho-Tep, and a truly extraordinary experience known as Shark Attack III to choose from. It was, to be as eloquent as I can, fucking fabulous. A tiny portion of these were spearheaded by filmmakers who had never received the praise that they were long overdue from mainstream audiences, and some were managed by newcomers who would go on to be given the title of "future genius." One of the former was named Robert Harmon, who helmed a little flick in the latter half of the 1980s called The Hitcher (which would suffer the remake treatment twenty years later), and would go on to direct nine films starring Tom Selleck as fictional police chief Jesse Stone. He was also lucky enough to have horror icon Wes Craven (R.I.P.) serve as an executive producer on his first new foray into terror in fifteen years: the ominously-titled They.


But does any of this matter? Well, I sure hope that it would have. Given that there is some royalty of sorts behind They, it's shocking to see that the end results are an ungodly dull, boring movie that just oozes missed potential. For starters, within the span of three years, there were several theatrical entries that dealt with similar subject matter, including Darkness Falls and Boogeyman. Mind you, those aren't particularly great either, but I'd be willing to bet that if I went back and re-watched what I remembered about those turds, I'd come out saying that at least their leads were able to feign interest in being on the set during production and the time for action. I haven't seen the television series based on Philip K. Dick's Minority Report, so I can't make a legitimate comparison between actress Laura Regan's role on that program and this one. That being said, she just looks and acts so disinterested throughout a good eighty percent of They, and the bizarro charisma being expelled from the Mia Farrow lookalike (if the Rosemary's Baby star had the physique of a twelve year old boy) makes for the closest to cinematic boredom that I've felt all year long. Christ, if you can't even make your screams sound genuine and not irksome, then why should I want to root for you as a "final girl?"


Anyways, I don't want to give the impression that all of They's faults lie with our lead heroine. Most of its problems come from a plodding pace and rushed third act. I've stated before that I have no problems with movies that are typically classified as "slow burns," but I'm willing to wait if the ultimate payoff is grandiose or at least memorable. I suppose that Harmon did that job well if your intention by the end was to utter the phrase "I somehow give less of a shit than I did before." Perhaps the biggest ball that was dropped came in the realm of the story to They itself. Had screenwriter Brendan Wood gotten his way, They was actually going to turn out as a completely different entity altogether. Wood's screenplay revolved around the same cast of characters dealing with unknown forces, though this time it was seeped in mechanical lore, with mankind being secretly controlled and assimilated by these beings for whenever their own bodies began to deteriorate. If you're scoffing at the entirety of that idea, that's fine. Still, the fact that Wood's name was kept on as a featured writer is astonishing, as they ditched his initial concept and it purportedly hired TEN WRITERS to rework it into whatever this thing is. Now this poor guy is stuck with most of the blame, and that just seems wholly unfair.


They was far more difficult to finish than it should have been. Its story has all the ability in the world to warrant a good discussion among purveyors of underrated motion pictures that were spat out during the start of the new millennium, but it drops the ball at nearly every opportunity that it has. People often deride and ridicule the restrictions of PG-13 horror movies, but we've seen that they can be done well when they're pushing the limits of the MPAA's rating system (Drag Me To Hell) or have a strong, unique story that unfolds rather well over time (The Sixth Sense). Had They been handled by Wes Craven himself a decade or so prior to this release date, I think it could have turned out to be rather creepy. Instead, we get a picture that I doubt anybody outside of the geekiest of geeks will remember a mere month after they've seen it, and will most likely find itself packaged together with other underwhelming titles on a dirt-cheap DVD collection that you can buy in bulk at your local Walmart (usually under the guise of "*insert number* films to terrify/spook/rattle you"). If you hate your wallet, They is available to purchase on DVD and Blu-Ray. If all that you hate is your free time, one can eyeball They for no extra charge on Amazon Prime and Netflix Instant Streaming.




Tomorrow, I attempt to sit through a supernatural production that has ties to one of the scariest human beings of the 1990s: Fred Durst.

*shudders*