6/4/15: All Good Children Fear the Woods

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Alice Englert, Allen Leech, backwoods folk, British films, British horror, cinema, couples on vacation, Daniel Pemberton, David Katznelson, endless roads, film reviews, films, horror, horror movies, Iain De Caestecker, In Fear, isolation, Jeremy Lovering, lost in the woods, masked killers, Movies, psychopaths, Roly Porter, secluded hotel, set in Ireland, UK films, writer-director

While some might disagree, I firmly believe that there’s one, universal fear: being lost in an unfamiliar place. Not everyone is terrified of spiders, dogs, heights, the dark or rutabagas but I’d be more than willing to wager that it’s impossible to find a person who isn’t afraid of being lost somewhere. Sure, you’ll always have the adventurous folks who say that getting lost in a new place is half the fun but I’m pretty sure there are qualifiers: said folks might enjoy being lost in a bustling, vibrant, overseas food market but how would they feel about suddenly finding themselves wandering some anonymous country road, alone, in the middle of night with nothing but a matchbook for illumination?

Getting lost in this big world of ours used to be a much easier task: anyone who remembers the acute joy of unfolding the equivalent of thirteen miles of intricately folded paper in order to find their current location “on the fly” knows this all too well. With the introduction of smart phones and GPS, however, the world has become notably smaller and it’s become decidedly more difficult to become truly lost. After all: how often do we actually come upon a location that doesn’t show up on the all-seeing eye of the Global Positioning System? According to writer-director Jeremy Lovering’s In Fear (2013), it does happen. The results, as you might guess, aren’t pretty.

Tom (Iain De Caestecker) and Lucy (Alice Englert) are a young couple who’ve been dating for a couple of weeks and decide to meet a bunch of friends at a big music festival in Ireland. In order to celebrate their fledgling relationship, Tom (without Lucy’s knowledge) has booked them a stay at an isolated inn that happens to be on the way, all the better to get a little “alone time” before they meet up with the rest of the crew.

After some unpleasant run-ins with the locals that we hear about (but don’t see), Tom and Lucy find themselves driving down a seemingly endless country road, following what seems to be an absurd amounts of signs that purport to lead the way to their inn, the Kilairney House Hotel. On the way, they pass a sinister-looking, decrepit house with a prominent “Do Not Enter” sign affixed to the front gate. Lucy also begins to get the creeping suspicion that someone (or something?) is watching them from the shadows, as the day quickly transitions into the even shadowier evening.

As the couple continues to drive in circles, their relationship begins to fray at the edges. Things really get interesting, however, when the couple accidentally plows into a mysterious stranger who just appears in the center of the road. The bloodied Max (Allen Leech) claims that he was attacked by a group of local hunters, folks who he has some sort of undisclosed beef with. Finagling a ride from Tom and Lucy, Max seems like a harmless enough, if rather odd, fellow. As the couple will discover, however, you can’t always judge a book by its cover. What are Max’s real intentions? Does he have anything to do with their current predicament or is it just coincidence that they happened upon him? Who is watching the group from the woods? What happened with the locals in the pub? Is there a logical explanation for what’s happening or have the couple managed to slip through the cracks of our comfortable, well-lit existence into something decidedly more shadowy and evil? Will they ever make it to the inn? If so, what will they find there?

At first glance, In Fear seems to be yet the latest in a long line of “backwoods brutality” pictures, those delightful little gems that feature citified folks heading into rural areas (usually in foreign countries), running afoul of the (usually) debauched locals and being pursued/tortured/eaten/etc. In a nice change of pace, however, Lovering doesn’t make this notion the main course, even though he keeps it simmering on the back burner for much of the film’s relatively short running time. Instead, In Fear ends up being something decidedly more eerie, supernatural and difficult to describe, with the closest parallel that I can handily recall being something like the highly under-rated Dead End (2003), where Ray Wise and Lin Shaye found themselves trapped on an endlessly repeating stretch of country road.

In fact, one of the film’s greatest strengths is its steadfast refusal to over-explain anything or hold the audience’s hand. While some viewers might be turned off by the strange, open-ended nature of the film, that aspect actually elevated the proceedings, as far as I’m concerned. Lovering doles out little details, here and there, but we’re never quite sure what’s going on or why: at one point, Max tells Tom and Lucy that they must have provoked “them” but we have absolutely no idea who he means…the locals? The mysterious hunters who’ve strung strange pelts across the road? The woods, itself? Ghosts? Sasquatch? We never find out and the film is all the stronger for it.

Along with the simple, compact script and structure, In Fear also benefits from a trio of exceptionally capable performances: when your film only features three actors, they better all be able to hold their own and Lovering’s cast acquit themselves quite nicely. De Caestecker (excellent in the recent Filth (2013)) and Englert (star of the recent Beautiful Creatures (2013)) make a good couple and have genuine chemistry together, which is something that you see all too infrequently in indie horror films like this. In most cases, you’re left wondering why people this miserable would ever want to spend time together: here, we buy their new relationship from the get-go, which makes the eventual collapse more impactful. More importantly, Tom and Lucy are both sympathetic characters (barring the odd moment where Tom sneaks up on Lucy and scares her for no reason, whatsoever), which makes what happens to them more powerful.

The third point of the triangle, Allen Leech, is probably the most high-profile, especially following his excellent turn in last year’s Oscar-nominated The Imitation Game (2014) and his recurring role on the hugely popular Downton Abbey. It’s also important to remember, however, that Leech was equally fantastic as John Cusack’s creepy assistant in the stellar Grand Piano (2014) and it’s this particular well that he dips into for In Fear. Leech’s Max is a highly enigmatic character, swinging wildly from absolute insanity to cheerful “laddish” behavior, often within the same scene. We never do really find out who Max is or what he wants but, as with the rest of the film’s open-ended nature, this feels less like an omission and more like a very conscious choice. Regardless of where he ends up fitting in the overall scheme of things, Leech’s Max is a really great, endlessly creepy character and another unforgettable performance from one of the 2000’s most interesting actors.

Ultimately, In Fear is the very definition of a sleeper: the film defies all expectations and, in its own way, is one of the more successful horror films I’ve seen recently. Rather than holding it back, the film’s small-scale and modest scope allow it a focus missing in many similar indie films: unlike other low-budget genre filmmakers who swing for the stars and miss miserably, Lovering and company focus on telling a small story in a tight, focused manner and succeed quite handily. When the film is creepy, it really burrows under your skin and takes up residence: just the hazy lighting quality of the dusk scenes, alone, is enough to light up the reptilian fear parts of the brain. With David Katznelson’s evocative cinematography and Daniel Pemberton and Roly Porter’s constantly ominous score, In Fear is a quality piece of work, from start to finish.

If getting lost in the middle of nowhere is one of your big fears, In Fear might just give you a case of the old cold sweats. Even if you’re one of those weekend warriors who relishes getting lost in the great outdoors, however, I’m willing to wager that you’ll still find something to unsettle you. At the very least, can’t we all agree that picking up mysterious, bloody strangers, in the middle of a deserted country road, at night, is just not a good idea?

4/26/15: Man’s the Only Animal That Foreshadows

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Aaron Staton, actor-director, camping, Christopher Denham, cinema, Cody Saintgnue, dysfunctional marriage, feuding brothers, fight for survival, fighting back, film reviews, films, Home Movie, hunting humans, hunting trip, isolation, lost in the woods, masked killers, Michael Chacon, Movies, Nick Saso, Pablo Schreiber, Preservation, PTSD, survival of the fittest, survival-horror, thrillers, Wrenn Schmidt, writer-director

You know that guy at the party who says something “clever” and then spends the rest of the evening elbowing you in the ribs, saying “You get it? You get it?” until you want to throw him off the nearest roof? Well, Christopher Denhams’ Preservation (2014) is an awful lot like that guy: the film spends the first 20 minutes hammering its main theme into the ground (“Man is the only animal that kills for fun” isn’t just the film’s tagline: it’s practically its mantra) only to have the rest of the film follow in such a predictable manner as to induce feelings of deja vu. On one hand, though, you really have to hand it to Preservation: it promises one thing and then delivers it. Over and over and over again, rinse, wash, repeat.

Our trio of protagonists are Wit (Wrenn Schmidt), her husband, Mike (Aaron Staton) and Mike’s gruff brother, Sean (Pablo Schreiber, perhaps best known as Orange is the New Black’s odious “Pornstache”). The group have headed deep into the woods so that the estranged brothers can relive one of their long-treasured childhood hunting trips, dragging Wit along even though she’s a vegetarian who’s uncomfortable, to say the least, with killing animals. “I don’t think I can kill,” Wit tells Sean, to which he knowingly replies, “You’d be surprised what you can do when it’s fight or flight.” Remember all that hammering-home I mentioned earlier? Get used to it, buckaroos, cuz it ain’t going anywhere.

Faster than Sean can say “Just because you can’t see ’em doesn’t mean they’re not there” and that old chestnut “Man’s the only animal that kills for fun,” our heroes seem to wander into an exceptionally strange situation. Waking from the previous evening’s festivities, the group realizes two things right off the bat: all of their possessions, including their packs, supplies and tents, have been taken while they slept and they each have a large, black “X” drawn on their foreheads. There’s a little bit of finger-pointing and blame-gaming thrown back and forth between Mike and Sean before we get to the revelation that should, presumably, surprise no one: the group is being actively hunted by a group of masked, heavily armed psychos.

From this point, the film hits all the standard “survival-horror” tropes, culminating with the realization that Wit must become everything that she abhors in order to survive: she’s going to have to get her hands dirty and fight to kill. Who are the mysterious assailants? Why are they pursuing Wit, Mike and Sean? Will Wit be able to make a final, desperate stand or will the silent, isolated woods become her ultimate resting place? When the game is self-preservation…there are no rules.

Despite having a more than capable cast, Preservation ends up being more than a little shallow, silly and, to be honest, rather obnoxious. The script is fairly awful, full of ridiculously on-the-nose dialogue and contrived sequences: there’s no point where any of the actors feel genuine, mostly because it’s difficult to take anything they say seriously. Schreiber, in particular, is saddled with some of the clunkiest lines I’ve come across in an indie horror film in some time: anytime he talks, it feels like he’s ticking points off a script breakdown. Schmidt and Staton have zero chemistry which tends to reduce the stakes on many of their scenes together: it was rather difficult to believe that these two even knew each other, much less genuinely loved each other.

Even stripped to its core survival-horror elements, Preservation falls well short of the mark. The majority of the action/violence occurs off-camera (sorry, gorehounds) and the handful of action scenes are poorly blocked, rarely amounting to more than a flurry of chaos and motion. While the film does build up a reasonable amount of tension, at times, it never really amounts to much, probably because everything is so familiar: if you think you know how any particular scene will progress, chances are you’re right. While horror films have a long history of predictability (just think back to the veritable oceans of anonymous slasher flicks that flooded video store shelves in the ’80s), Preservation does absolutely nothing whatsoever to mess with the formula. Even the film’s big “twist” reveal is so hackneyed and clichéd that careful (or even non-comatose) viewers should be able to figure it out after the very first appearance of the villains: needless to say, it’s difficult to be shocked, surprised or amazed by anything when we always seem to be five steps ahead of the film, itself.

To be honest, I was actually surprised by how slight and silly Preservation was for one very simple reason: writer-director Denham’s previous film, Home Movie (2008), is one of the most disturbing, well-made and haunting indie horror films I’ve ever seen. His found-footage portrait of parents coming to terms with their two unbelievably evil children is one brick to the face after another, culminating in the kind of harrowing finale that can, literally, haunt dreams. Home Movie completely blew me away when I saw it years ago and I’ve been eagerly awaiting a follow-up ever since: suffice to say that Preservation couldn’t have disappointed me more if it had actually been made with just that express purpose.

Despite this disappointment, however, I haven’t quite given up on Denham (goes to show just how impressed I was by his debut). While Preservation’s script is dreadful, Home Movie’s was quite good: ditto on the scenario end of things. As such, I’m deathly curious to see which direction his third film (whenever it appears) will take. Here’s to hoping that the next wait will bear much more delectable fruit than this most recent excursion. When your film has a problem making a life-or-death Port-a-Potty battle between Pornstache and a masked assailant interesting, well…it might just be time to pave over this preservation and put up a parking lot.

1/2/15 (Part Two): Do Not Provoke the Bigfeet

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1st person POV, Altered, Bigfoot, Blair Witch Project, cabins, Chris Osborn, cinema, creature feature, Denise Williamson, Dora Madison Burge, Eduardo Sanchez, Exists, film reviews, films, found-footage, hand-held camera, horror, horror movies, isolation, Jaime Nash, Jeff Schwan, John Rutland, lost in the woods, Lovely Molly, Movies, Roger Edwards, Samuel Davis, Sasquatch, Seventh Moon, siege, The Blair Witch Project, vengeance, Willow Creek

While it was certainly odd to see six or seven doppelgänger films released in 2014, I actually found the mini-trend towards Bigfoot films to be even weirder. After all, I can understand the current fascination with thinking that there’s a cooler, more successful version of yourself running around the world: it’s only natural that we’d begin to reap the fruits that we planted in the Social Media Age. What’s behind the boom in Bigfoot/Sasquatch films, though? Current facial hair trends? Our desire to return to the wilderness and live simpler lives? The notion that as the world continues to shrink (that darn social media thing, again), we’re gradually running out of isolated pockets of the unknown to poke and prod, leading us to go over old ground with a finer tooth comb?

Here’s where it gets even stranger, however: of the three Bigfoot films that were released in 2014 (Willow Creek, Skookum: The Hunt for Bigfoot and Exists), two of them actually share a connection, however tenuous. You see, Bobcat Goldthwait’s Willow Creek plays like a Sasquatch-oriented re-do of The Blair Witch Project (1999), albeit one that seems to have the goal of fixing Blair Witch’s many problems (unlikable characters, lack of action, iffy script). Exists, by contrast, is the newest film by Eduardo Sanchez, one of the two filmmakers responsible for The Blair Witch Project and our current obsession with found-footage films. Exists is also a found-footage film (for the most part), which means that we got two, separate found-footage Bigfoot films that both appeared to (obliquely) reference Blair Witch…holy alternate universe, Batman!

Despite the surface similarities, however, there are actually quite a few differences between Willow Creek and Exists (I never screened Skookum, so that may very well slot in here, as well). Of the two films, Willow Creek is much closer to the original Blair Witch Project in tone and intent, whereas Sanchez’s Bigfoot opus is more of an action-horror/siege film: in many ways, Exists is another in the long, storied tradition of “something chasing our heroes through the woods” films, rather than a “traditional” found-footage horror film. Both films have their merits, although I’ll admit to leaning a little heavier on Willow Creek than Exists, which often seems too reminiscent of other films (including Blair Witch). Nonetheless, Exists has plenty to offer fans of Bigfoot-themed horror flicks and manages to whip up a pretty decent sense of atmosphere and tension.

The film begins with us firmly in found-footage cliché land, as we get hand-held footage of our intrepid heroes goofing around on the picturesque drive to their backwoods cabin location. We have brothers Matt (Samuel Davis) and Brian (Chris Osborn), couple Todd (Roger Edwards) and Liz (Denise Williamson) and fifth-wheel Dora (Dora Madison Burge), all out for a nice, fun weekend at the cabin owned (and mysteriously abandoned) by Matt and Brian’s Uncle Bob (Jeff Schwan). The group has snuck out to the cabin, without Uncle Bob’s knowledge, so no one has any idea where they are. If you just said “Sounds like a bad idea,” go ahead and give yourself that gold star, buckaroo.

While driving at night, the group appear to hit something with their SUV: after the most cursory of cursory looks, they take off, convinced that they’ve just “wounded” some friendly, little woodland creature. Turns out this was another bad idea, since something large, angry and extremely violent is now after their group. When the friends hole up in Bob’s abandoned cabin, they quickly find themselves under siege from what appears to be an angry mob of…well, of some kind of furry, bipedal creatures that are, essentially, the exact opposite of the Henderson’s ol’ buddy, Harry. When the group are forced to split up in order to get help, they only end up making themselves easier targets. As Uncle Bob races to the cabin for a desperate rescue mission, the others will learn the terrible price of their thoughtless actions. Can they find forgiveness and salvation in the deep, dark woods or will they end up as just more mysterious footnotes in the murky history of the creature known as Bigfoot?

For my money, Eduardo Sanchez was always the most talented of the Sanchez/Myrick combo. In the time since The Blair Witch Project revolutionized the indie horror film, Sanchez has been responsible for a small handful of really exceptional films: Altered (2006), Seventh Moon (2008), Lovely Molly (2011) and a segment in V/H/S 2 (2013). Lovely Molly, in particular, is an amazing gut-punch of a film and easily one of the best of the past decade. Myrick, by contrast, released the disappointing Believers (2007), Solstice (2008) and The Objective (2008) in the same time-period, none of which approached the quality of Sanchez’s output.

In this case, then, we have the more gifted of the two Blair Witch filmmakers returning to the found-footage sub-genre that he helped popularize: my anticipation for this was pretty high, especially considering how much I respect Lovely Molly. If nothing about Exists manages to hit the heady heights of Lovely Molly, however, it probably has something to do with this being a slightly less personal project: Sanchez directs from a script by Jaime Nash rather than writing the film himself, as he’s done in the past. The characters are much flimsier than his previous films, for one thing, nearly reduced to the level of stock characters (Todd and Brian, in particular, are more stereotypes than actual real people). Again, this only really becomes an issue when compared to Sanchez’s previous full-length, the astounding Lovely Molly: the drop in quality might not be as notable were it not for this rather unfortunate progression.

One of Exists greatest strengths, in the long run, ends up being its more action-oriented take on found-footage films. The usual complaint with these type of films (a complaint that goes right back to Blair Witch) is that nothing actually happens until the final five minutes: everything else is just atmospheric build-up to that brief pay-off. One can’t make that complaint here, since things start happening almost immediately and the film is chock-full of memorable setpieces: the assault on the cabin, the incredible attack on the stranded RV, the Go-Pro-filmed forest bike chase that directly recalls the “A Ride in the Park” segment of V/H/S 2, the effective (if slightly hokey) ending. Exists is able to build and release tension at regular intervals, making it much closer to a “traditional” horror film than the usual “delayed gratification” of found-footage.

Atmosphere-wise, Exists is a complete success: at times, the film is layered with so much tension and dread that it’s almost unbearable. Cinematographer John Rutland (who also shot Lovely Molly) perfectly captures the eerie, isolated woodland location and turns the abandoned cabin into one of the creepiest places of the year. The night scenes are also exceptionally well-shot, with plenty of good image definition, along with lots of that aforementioned tension. From a craft standpoint, Exists biggest failings can actually be traced directly back to its found-footage roots: at times, the film almost seems to replicate specific shots from Blair Witch (the night-vision scenes, in particular), which, ironically, gives it a more slavish air than Willow Creek: Sanchez seems to be ripping himself off, which is a decidedly odd move. There are also several points in the film where the 1st-person perspective is abandoned in favor of a more omniscient viewpoint, which gets kind of confusing: just who, exactly, is supposed to be filming those angles? A Bigfoot? It’s not a deal-breaker but it’s definitely noticeable and anything that takes the audience out of a film like this runs the very real risk of not getting them back.

All in all, I definitely liked Exists: the film was fast-paced, well-made and quite tense, even if it was never particularly unique. That being said, I also found this to be the weakest of Sanchez’s post-Blair Witch output, by a long shot: I would have figured this to be the direct follow-up to his debut, not his fifth full-length. There’s a lot to like here (the repeated images of uprooted trees are frankly awesome and that RV assault is one of the record books) although I can’t help but wish the characters were more fully realized and sympathetic (or, at the very least, interesting). Of the two Bigfoot films I saw in 2014, I was definitely more impressed by Goldthwait’s, even though it seemed to be the less “hard-charging” of the two, on paper. Perhaps it was Willow Creek’s great characters, its handful of genuinely hilarious scenes or that impressive final 30 minutes but it just ended up grabbing me harder than Exists. Despite that fact, however, I’m confident that there’s enough room in the woods for both of these shaggy beasts to happily co-exist: if you’re looking to scratch that Bigfoot itch, you could do a whole lot worse than Exists.

12/17/14: The Bobcat Bigfoot Project

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Alexie Gilmore, auteur theory, believers vs non-believers, Bigfoot, Blair Witch, Bobcat Goldthwait, Bryce Johnson, Bucky Sinister, cinema, cryptids, cryptozoology, eccentric people, Film auteurs, film reviews, films, found-footage, found-footage films, God Bless America, horror, horror films, isolated communities, isolation, Laura Montagna, legend vs reality, legends, lost in the woods, Movies, Patterson-Gimlin film, Peter Jason, Sasquatch, The Blair Witch Project, Tom Yamarone, Willow Creek, writer-director

While The Blair Witch Project (1999) may not have been the very first found-footage film (we can argue about it later), it was certainly the film that brought the sub-genre to the attention of the general public and helped get it into the pop culture zeitgeist. It was also the film that helped establish the “rules” that would make found-footage such a popular, if restrictive, way to tell a story: hand-held camera, first-person POV, a lack of obvious action with an emphasis on atmosphere and mood, a focus on verisimilitude that includes mundane conversations and long “dry” stretches, small cast, isolated setting, dropping the camera at the conclusion…these were all presents that The Blair Witch Project pretty much brought to the party. Something obviously must have worked, since the film would go on to be one of the highest-grossing independent films of all time and would help to usher in a new era of lower-profile, word-of-mouth film festival hits, such as the similar Paranormal Activity (2007).

Despite its success and influence, however, The Blair Witch Project isn’t without its problems, some of which are more critical than others. For one thing, the acting tends to be rather rough and the characters are extremely unlikable: we basically get stranded with a bunch of amateur actors in the woods as the yell at each other for upwards of an hour. There’s also a decided lack of actual “action” in the film: the majority of the movie consists of the three actors tromping around the woods, arguing about being lost, before we get the decidedly iconic finale featuring the creepy abandoned house. There is plenty of great atmosphere here, don’t get me wrong, but The Blair Witch Project is pretty much the epitome of a film that hasn’t aged well: after screening it again, recently, I actually found it to be fairly tedious and way too obvious. There’s still a great core idea here, an interesting mythos and a nicely isolated setting but I can’t help but feel there was a much better, more interesting film here struggling (and failing) to get out.

Bobcat Goldthwait’s Willow Creek (2014) is that film. While the movie seems to be a conscious attempt to replicate some of the exact same beats from The Blair Witch Project – small cast searching for a local legend in the woods, meeting exceptionally eccentric locals, getting lost in the woods and coming face-to-face with the exact thing that they’re looking for but don’t, in the end, really want to find – Goldthwait does something rather revolutionary: he gives us characters we can actually care about rather than obnoxious “types” who ultimately serve only as cannon fodder. With this one simple step (along with a small host of refinements, tweaks and improvements), Goldthwait fixes many of the inherent issues with The Blair Witch Project and gives us a glimpse into what the film could have been. Willow Creek is not a perfect film, by any stretch of the imagination, but it is rock-solid, one of the “purest” found-footage films I’ve ever seen and, despite the near complete lack of on-screen chaos, a genuinely scary film.

Premise-wise, Willow Creek is simplicity, itself: Jim (Bryce Johnson), a Bigfoot enthusiast, is determined to follow in the footsteps of the famous Patterson-Gimlin Bigfoot film from 1967 (you’ll know it the second you see it, trust me) and he’s dragged his non-believer girlfriend, Kelly (Alexie Gilmore), along for the ride. He’s decided to turn their “adventure” into a lo-fi documentary with him serving as eager “host” and Kelly running the camcorder (in other words, the perfect found-footage set-up).

The pair head to Willow Creek, California, the small, Bigfoot-obsessed town that lies on the outskirts of the heavily wooded area where Patterson and Gimlin first caught sight of the famously hairy woodland creature. Once there, they poke around town, interviewing the locals (believers and non, alike) and gathering information for their inevitable trek to Bluff Creek, the actual location of the famous sighting. Willow Creek happens to be home to more than its fair share of mysterious disappearances, it seems, although the scuttlebutt seems to be divided as to how much ol’ Bigfoot is responsible for and how much is the work of the extremely uncompromising wilderness surrounding them (bears and mountain lions are common occurrences, after all).

While most of the locals are friendly, they also bump into a couple rather sinister ones (gotta have balance!), which has the effect of giving Kelly second thoughts about their trip: she might not believe in Bigfoot but she sure as hell believes in Deliverance (1972). She’s even more wary once they head into the woods and run into former Forest Ranger Troy Andrews (Peter Jason), who tells them a rather disturbing story about “something” that tore his beloved dog to pieces: she’d rather not meet whatever was responsible but Jim has Sasquatch-fever and won’t take no for an answer. From this point on, the progression of events should be pretty familiar: they wander around a bit, find various eerie hints of strange doings and end up spending a rather terrifying night in their tent, all leading to an explosive, highly disturbing ending that’s the very definition of “you should have left well-enough alone.”

And that’s pretty much it: 80 minutes, from beginning to end, no tricks, no frills, nothing but the goods. As I said, nothing here should really be new to anyone who’s seen The Blair Witch Project but the key here is all in the execution and attention to character development. Unlike the antagonistic, obnoxious characters from Blair Witch, Jim and Kelly come across as realistic, interesting, dynamic and highly likable: they may not be completely three-dimensional but they’re a helluva lot more developed than the paper-thin characters in Blair Witch. Little things are the key here: the way in which we subtly learn how obsessive Jim is, via the way he constantly re-records footage to get the absolute best take, even though he’s going for “realism” above all else…the way that Kelly can express extreme disapproval with only a slightly furrowed eyebrow while still smiling and toeing the “party line”…the quietly stunning moment, towards the end, where Jim apologizes for getting them into their current predicament…these are all the kinds of “actorly” moments and beats that were completely missing from Blair Witch. You know…all those things we normally associate with a “good” film?

Willow Creek is also a genuinely funny film, at times: the scenes where Jim and Kelly goof around in town are great and another crucial way in which Goldthwait keeps building our empathy for the characters. The bit where they riff on the ridiculous mural of Bigfoot that covers the entire outside of one building is an absolute classic bit of comedy: paced like a good stand-up routine, the minutes-long segment had me laughing so loud that I found myself needing to rewind in order to miss additional lines…that, my friends, is the very definition of a funny scene. Despite the inherent humor of the town scenes, however, it never feels as if Goldthwait is playing his subjects as idiots: it’s quite obvious that the scenes where they interview the various towns-folk are real, which adds quite a bit to the film’s overall tone (although this was also something that The Blair Witch Project used to fairly good effect). Perhaps it helps that Goldthwait is, apparently, a Bigfoot enthusiast: he has no interest in poking fun of these people since he, himself, is also a believer.

If you only know Bobcat Goldthwait as the Tazmanian Devil-voiced freak-show from the Police Academy films, you’ve managed to handily miss out on one of the best, most daring modern-day filmmakers around: while I’ve always been a bit hot-and-cold on his debut, the transgressive clown comedy Shakes the Clown (1991), World’s Greatest Dad (2009) is an absolutely perfect stunner and easily one of the best films of its year, if not several years in either direction. The follow-up, God Bless America (2011), was a more obvious, if no less well-made film, and showed that former Cadet Zed had somehow developed into a badass writer-director while no one was looking. While Willow Creek is, technically, Bobcat’s first genre film, it’s no less expertly crafted than the rest of his oeuvre, proving that the guy can pretty much do anything he sets his mind to.

Ultimately, however, a big question remains: Is Willow Creek just a style exercise, an attempt to improve on The Blair Witch Project while giving Goldthwait a chance to play around with Bigfoot mythology? While I think that’s definitely one of the factors behind the film, I certainly don’t think it’s the main one…or even the most important one, to be honest. More than anything, Willow Creek seems like an attempt by Goldthwait to weld the type of fully developed characters from his dramas/black-comedies onto a standard-issue found-footage template (short of the rather astonishing 20-odd minute single-take shot that he uses in the tent, there’s not a whole lot of particularly “innovative” filmmaking here, per se). It’s a film where so many of the truly important details happen in the margins: the chilling foreshadowing of the missing poster scene…the marriage proposal…Jim and Kelly’s arguments about moving to Los Angeles…the little asides and quips that crop up in the documentary parts…these are all genuinely human, dramatic moments and they help make the film seem much more fleshed-out and well-rounded than it might have been (and certainly much more than The Blair Witch Project, at any rate).

Is Willow Creek a good film? To be honest, it’s actually a very good film, even if it does manage to get tripped up by many of the same issues that helped fell Blair Witch: the overly shaky camera; bad sight lines; occasional dry stretches; the lack of any conventional “action” on-screen, save for the finale. Crucially, however, none of these issues are critical hits, which can’t necessarily be said for Blair Witch. While Willow Creek doesn’t necessarily reinvent the wheel, it manages to improve on its spiritual forebear in pretty much every way possible. When we actually care about the characters, their ultimate fates become that much more impactful: suffice to say, I found myself thinking about that finale quite a bit after the end credits rolled. As a huge fan of Goldthwait’s work ever since World’s Greatest Dad, there’s nothing about Willow Creek that really surprised me, for one very important reason: I already knew the guy was gonna knock it out of the park as soon as I saw his name attached. While Willow Creek may not be the best horror film of the year (there’s plenty of competition), it certainly deserves a place on the finalists’ list. Here’s to hoping ol’ Bobcat doesn’t lose his jones for the scary stuff anytime soon: with a calling card like Willow Creek, the sky, literally, is the limit.

6/28/14 (Part One): Root For the Witch

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cinema, co-directors, co-writers, creepy buildings, Daniel Myrick, Eduardo Sanchez, feature-film debut, film reviews, films, found-footage, Heather Donahue, horror films, independent films, Joshua Leonard, lost in the woods, low-budget films, Michael Williams, Movies, murdered children, The Blair Witch Project, witches, writer-director

Back in 1999, I was among the groups of moviegoers that flocked to see The Blair Witch Project (1999) in theaters, turning the micro-budget found-footage film into not only a surprise hit but something of a cultural milestone. At the time, found footage films weren’t as common-place as they are now, so Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez’s modest little film about a film crew lost in some very haunted woods seemed not only fresh but revolutionary. At the time, I remember being genuinely freaked out by the film, which probably had a lot to do with seeing it in a packed theater: I’ll never forget how quiet the theater would get or how shocked everyone looked by the end. The Blair Witch Project was a triumph in “less is more” filmmaking and seemed to signal a sea-change in the world of indie horror films, a change which has come to roost in the form of the endless found footage films which currently glut the market.

Over the years, I’ve returned to the film periodically, although I’ve never really taken the time to look at The Blair Witch Project critically. If anything, I’ve always judged the movie on a purely visceral level, while mentally glossing over any of the film’s shortcomings. As I’ve often found, however, films that I loved in my youth don’t always hold up down the road. Case in point: Kevin Smith’s Clerks (1994). At the time of its release, I absolutely adored Smith’s vulgar little confection, finding it to be not only one of the best-scripted films I’d seen (until I got to Pulp Fiction (1994), I would imagine) but also ingeniously crafted. Nowadays, however, I can’t stand Clerks: the film is juvenile, stupid, vulgar for the sake of vulgarity and vapid as all hell. Time and perspective has taught me something very important: films that appeal to 17-year-olds don’t always have resonance for 30-year-olds. Since coming to that realization, I’ve avoided Clerks (and most Smith films, to be honest) like the plague. Once it came time to rewatch another old favorite, would I end up with the same outcome? Would The Blair Witch Project end up getting “sent to the corn,” just like Clerks?

As far as a film goes, The Blair Witch Project is simplicity, itself. Three independent filmmakers, Heather Donahue, Josh Leonard and Mike Williams (named for the actors who portray them in a pretty nifty example of blurring that reality/fiction line), are making a documentary about the Blair Witch, a figure who’s said to haunt a secluded wooded area and is (supposedly) responsible for the death or disappearance of quite a few folks over the years. To this end, the film crew interviews the residents of the small town of Burkittsville, who help fill in some of the legend’s details, along with adding additional stories about other local killers and assorted oddness. The creepiest of these extra stories details a serial killer who targeted children, taking them in pairs to a creepy house in the woods where he would kill them, one by one, in the basement. After getting as much local color as they can stand, the trio ends into the woods, intent on recording some of the eerie happenings. In no time at all, however, the group is hopelessly lost and at each others’ throats. As more and more weird things happen to them (strange sounds at night, weird piles of rocks everywhere, creepy totems hanging from trees), the group gradually realize that something is stalking them in the woods. When one of their group goes missing, the other two must now deal with the very real fear that they will never leave the woods alive. Is it the Blair Witch or does something even more insidiously evil stalk the woods outside Burkittsville? Since all we’re left with is the missing trio’s found footage, recovered a year later, it’s pretty safe to assume that whatever happened, it wasn’t a picnic.

One of the initial charms of Myrick and Sanchez’s film is how much it’s able to do with so little. Aside from the various “locals” that the crew interviews, the entire film consists of the three actors trooping around the woods with a hand-held camera. Since the dialogue was largely improvised, there’s a great opportunity for blurring the lines and making everything seem truly authentic. The film was made for around $60K but ended up raking in over a million dollars on opening weekend: it made almost 30 million during its run, making the film one of the biggest independent films of all time. In many ways, this was the greatest shot in the arm that low-budget, indie filmmakers could possibly get: get some friends and a camera, become a star. The film has obviously been extremely influential, as seen by the high volume of similar found footage films that are everywhere these days. In face, one of the other modern horror hits, Paranormal Activity (2007), is also a found footage film and ended up repeating many of The Blair Witch Projects victories at the box office. By all accounts, Myrick and Sanchez’s film should hold up as well as Carpenter’s legendary Halloween (1978), another “little indie film that could.” It could, of course, if the film was actually any good but, unfortunately, it really isn’t.

Upon closer inspection, the film just doesn’t hold up. The backstory about the witch is still great and there’s undeniable power in some of the “lost in the woods” moments. The climax is still creepy, even if it makes less sense to me now than it did when I was younger and who wouldn’t find some of the nighttime scenes scary? The major problem ends up being twofold: the actors, especially Donahue, are all completely obnoxious and absolutely nothing happens until the final few minutes. The first flaw ends up being the killing blow since, for all intents and purposes, we’re stuck with three very unpleasant people bickering about being lost in the woods. Since the dialogue is largely improvised, we’re also stuck with a disarming amount of “No, I didn’t”/”Yes, you did” back-and-forth which gets tedious almost immediately. By the midpoint in the film, despite already knowing its resolution, I was actively rooting for the witch to appear and put these jackasses out of their misery. To be honest, I’m not quite sure how “younger me” ever sat through this drivel, since I actively hated all three characters/actors within a remarkably short amount of time. Similar to being stuck with feuding relatives on a long car ride, The Blair Witch Project’s “characters” end up being the most terrifying thing about the film.

The second issue, the lack of action, ends up being only slightly less significant, at least to me, personally. I’m a big fan of slower-paced, more subtle horror films, so the glacial pace didn’t really bother me. My main issue with this came when I reflected back on the film after finishing it and realized that I had just spent 90 minutes watching three people stumble around the woods. The bits involving the totems and rock piles are cool but too few and far between: when you’re asking a mysterious pile of rocks to do all of your horror heavy-lifting, we might have a problem, Houston. The end still holds up, for the most part, but it’s way too little, too late to get there: whereas I found the chaotic conclusion to be utterly nail-biting as a 20-year-old, my main takeaway 15 years later is how poorly blocked it is, making it exceedingly difficult to actually figure out what’s going on. It still has impact, mind you, but not nearly as much.

At the end of the day, I’ll always respect what The Blair Witch Project did but it’s impossible for me to really enjoy the film, itself. As an influence on countless found footage films that followed, the importance of the film can’t be overstated, especially since I tend to really enjoy found footage films.  While Daniel Myrick hasn’t had much of worth since that point (his Believers (2007) is decent but not amazing), Eduardo Sanchez has been quite a bit more successful, at least as far as I’m concerned. Sanchez’s Altered (2006) is a cracking-good tale about rednecks, alien abduction and revenge, while his Lovely Molly (2011) is one of the most painful, unpleasant and amazing horror films I’ve ever seen. As it stands, then, The Blair Witch Project was more of a petri dish than a neo-classic: it fostered not only the found footage subgenre but also a generation of indie filmmakers who would see the film festival circuit as there best bet at getting recognized.

I’m pretty sure that my latest trip to Burkittsville will be my last (at least until I decide to do a Blair Witch/Book of Shadows (2000) marathon sometime in 2030, that is). While there are still moments that really grab me in the film, just as there are moments that still grab me in Clerks (to be honest, the only thing I can stand in Clerks is the soundtrack, which I still love to this day), my overall experience rewatching the film was massively disappointing. Sometimes, it would seem, you really can’t go back.