10/17/14 (Part Two): The Scarecrow That Wasn’t

Tags

31 Days of Halloween, abandoned plantation, Alex Turner, American Civil War, cinema, cornfields, curses, Dead Birds, extreme violence, favorite films, feature-film debut, film reviews, films, Henry Thomas, horror, horror film, horror films, horror movies, horror westerns, Isaiah Washington, Mark Boone Junior, Michael Shannon, Movies, Muse Watson, Nicki Aycox, North vs South, Patrick Fugit, racism, scarecrows, set in 1860s, Simon Barrett, slavery, Steve Yedlin, stolen gold, The Burrowers, voodoo curses

In the world of horror films, hyphenates and hybrids are king: horror-comedies, sci-fi horror, teen slasher flicks (as opposed to geriatric slasher flicks, one assumes), rom-zom-coms, found-footage films, military-based horror films…if two disparate styles/genres/things can be forcibly jammed together, the horror industry has probably already done it. Of all of these various amalgams, however, one of the most under-represented, but endlessly entertaining, variations must certainly be the horror-Western.

While horror-Westerns appeared to have a bit of a renaissance in the ’50s and ’60s (albeit one composed entirely of questionable fare like Billy the Kid vs Dracula (1966) and The Beast of Hollow Mountain (1956)), you can count the number of “modern-day” horror-Westerns on a remarkably small number of fingers. Among exceptional films like The Burrowers (2008) and Ravenous (1999), there are also odious entries like the obnoxious Wesley Snipes-starring turkey Gallowwalkers (2012) and The Quick and the Undead (2006): while a Western setting can be glorious fodder for a horror film, it can also lead to any number of tired, stupid “zombie gunslinger” clichés, lazy ideas that are easily as tedious as cheap, cash-in found-footage films or dime-a-dozen zombie flicks.

Of the modern-day horror-Westerns that “get it right,” Alex Turner’s Dead Birds (2004) is easily one of the highlights, ranking right there with the aforementioned Ravenous and The Burrowers as some of my favorite modern horror films. There’s a quiet elegance to Dead Birds that’s almost hypnotizing, a notion of stepping off the beaten path and into a world that’s just slightly askew from ours. Thanks to an excellent script by genre mainstay Simon Barrett and some truly gorgeous cinematography courtesy of frequent Rian Johnson collaborator Steve Yedlin, Dead Birds is a subtle chiller that looks great and is smarter than the average bear. The resulting film is a slow-burner that still manages to incorporate jump scares (albeit fewer than the typical modern horror film) to good effect, while offering up an ending that should give audiences something to mull over for days to come.

The film begins in Alabama, in 1863, at the tail-end of the American Civil War. A group of gunmen – William (Henry Thomas), Sam (Patrick Fugit), Joseph (Mark Boone Junior), Clyde (Michael Shannon), Todd (Isaiah Washington) and Annabelle (Nicki Aycox) – have just made off with a large shipment of gold after a brazen, bloody bank robbery. After making it out of the town, the group decides to bunker down at an old homestead, the Hollister place. When they finally make it to the place, it ends up being a sprawling, abandoned plantation, the main house decrepit and unbelievably creepy at the end of a massive cornfield. Trudging through the wall of corn, the group makes two equally unsettling discoveries: a scarecrow that’s probably a human body stuck up on a pole and a bizarre, small, hairless creature, vaguely humanoid in shape, that Sam handily kills with a bullet to the head. As foreboding moments go, it doesn’t get much more foreboding than that.

Once the group makes it to the farmhouse, the usual tendencies to fight and form sub-groups take over: Clyde and Joseph hate that they’re getting paid as much as Todd, who’s black, and scheme to keep all the gold for themselves; William and Annabelle continue the courtship that appears to have begun in a military field hospital and Sam seems to be getting more fidgety and paranoid by the minute. When the group begins to see strange apparitions throughout the house, demonic things that look like children with hollow, empty eyes, they come to the realization that they might have stepped smack-dab into quite a bit of trouble. As the group try to make sense of what’s going, they’ll gradually come to learn the full story of the plantation’s former owner and the terrible steps he went through to get back his lost love. If they’re lucky, the group will make it out with their hides, if not their minds, intact. If not, however, they’ll find themselves as just another part of the plantation’s terrible past, trapped in the cornfield until the end of time.

There’s an awful lot working in Dead Birds’ favor (great cast, good effects, fantastically creepy setting, authentic period detail) but the feather in the cap definitely ends up being Simon Barrett’s exceptionally sharp, intelligent script. Rather than traffic in tired horror movie clichés (other than the nearly ubiquitous “scary-faced” people, of course), the film comes up with a fresh, nicely realized mythology of its own, one that manages to incorporate voodoo curses, demons and no small amount of irony. In a genre where story often feels like something you trip over on your way to the next gore shot, Dead Birds is definitely a breath of fresh air.

As a horror film, Turner’s movie hits all of its marks: the violence can be sudden and intense, the atmosphere is thick with tension and the scares are genuine and frequent. While the film doesn’t really traffic in setpieces, ala something like Suspiria (1977), there are still plenty of memorable scenes, such as the moment in the final third where we get a good look at the scarecrow and some really spooky bits involving the demonic children. Unlike more “cookie-cutter” films, we get to know and like (for the most part) the characters in Dead Birds, making their inevitable fates all that much more impactful.

In particular, Henry Thomas (yeah, Elliott from E.T. (1982)) is a great square-jawed protagonist, while genre vet Michael Shannon and Sons of Anarchy’s Mark Boone Junior make a great pair as the evil-leaning Clyde and Joseph. Most importantly, the ensemble works really well together, bringing a sense of cohesion to the production that’s likewise missing in more slap-dash films. None of these characters exist as mere cannon fodder, which makes the overall film that much more meaningful.

Despite positively adoring Alex Turner’s debut feature, I ended up being massively let-down by his follow-up, the Iraq-set Red Sands (2009), a sloppy affair which was full of great ideas and ramshackle execution. Here, Turner gets everything just perfect, turning out an absolute modern classic, in the process. Here’s to hoping that Turner has another Dead Birds up his sleeve for the future: films like this don’t come along every day but you can’t fault me for being greedy and wanting a few more.

7/12/14: Hack For More

Tags

Adam Green, BJ McDonnell, Caroline Williams, cinema, Danielle Harris, different director, extreme violence, film reviews, films, franchise, Friday the 13th, gory films, Gremlins, Hatchet, Hatchet 3, Hatchet II, Hatchet III, horror films, horror franchises, inspired by '80s films, Kane Hodder, Marybeth, Movies, Repeaters, series creator, Sid Haig, slasher films, swamps, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Victor Crowley, voodoo curses, Zach Galligan

Of all the modern horror movie franchises, from Saw to Paranormal Activity and back to Wrong Turn, Adam Green’s Hatchet series is easily the most ’80s-oriented of the bunch. When the original Hatchet (2006) was unleashed upon the world, it would’ve been hard not to draw parallels to that classic “slasher in the woods” franchise, Friday the 13th: Hatchet featured hulking Kane Hodder in the role of the villain, was top-loaded with just about as much ultra-gore as could be crammed into one film (whatever didn’t fit into the first was handily saved, like excess chicken stock, for the sequels), featured violent death by as many different, inventive sources as possible and stuck a group of people (or “cannon fodder,” if you prefer) into an isolated location (a New Orleans swamp versus a summer camp in the woods) so that they could be summarily wiped from the face of the earth.

After Hatchet was a surprise hit amongst genre fans, Green followed it up with an even more over-the-top sequel, Hatchet II (2010), which managed to ramp the carnage up several notches (how that was humanly possible, I’ll never know) while simultaneously toning down the more explicitly humorous elements. While the sequel wasn’t quite as dynamic as the original film, it was still an awful lot of fun (for very strong stomachs, obviously, but that pretty much goes without saying) and actually served as a direct continuation of the first film, picking up right where Hatchet ended and using many of the same actors (the ones who actually survived, at least). When the sequel became another fan favorite, the future seemed clear: Hatchet was well on its way to entering franchise territory.

This, of course, brings us to the third film in the series, the cleverly titled Hatchet III (2013). For the first time in the relatively short-lived franchise, creator Green steps away from the director’s chair, although he did write the script and “present” the film. Turning the bullhorn over to BJ McDonnell, Green finds himself at that most formative stage of a young franchise’s life: that pivotal moment where the series must shake off its original progenitor (F13 did it with Cunningham, NOES did it with Craven), sprout it own set of moldy, mutated wings and fly away for parts unknown. Does it work? Does Green’s Hatchet really have what it takes to stick around in the world of franchise horror and hang with the big boys? Or is this strictly going to be direct-to-video fodder like the Wrong Turn series?

Picking up immediately where the second film ended, with series heroine Marybeth (Danielle Harris) blasting franchise villain Victor Crowley’s (Kane Hodder) face into red pulp with a shotgun, we hit the ground running. As Marybeth rests in the foreground, Victor rises in the background, leading to a short chase, a rather jaw-dropping moment where Marybeth does something extremely rude to Victor’s face-hole, followed by the equally eyebrow raising bit where Victor falls backwards onto an enormous chainsaw (used for cutting down 1000 ft tall oaks, I would imagine), where he’s split asunder, vertically, showering Marybeth in more blood than could possibly be contained in five Victors, all while Gwar’s “Hail Genocide” blasts on the soundtrack. The scene ends with Marybeth stumbling into town, a shotgun in one hand, Victor’s bloody scalp in the other. Roll credits, strap on your seatbelt, folks.

It bears mentioning, at this point, that Hatchet III is not for very sensitive sensibilities. This is, for lack of a better word, an ultra-gore epic, a film that not only revels in the depiction of inventive bloodshed on-screen but positively wallows in it. While the first two films in the franchise were gore-drenched, Hatchet III takes things into heretofore unheard of arenas: as someone who’s been watching these kinds of things for the better part of two decades, I was still surprised by some of the things I saw. Again, I only feel that it’s necessary to drive this home because I’d hate for a curious neophyte to think, “How bad could it get?,” assuming this was a more commercial type of horror confection: if the opening sounds stomach-churning, understand that it’s probably the least intense “kill” in the film and let your conscience (and your gut) be your guide.

Back in the “real world,” Marybeth stumbles into the local police station, setting off a bit of a panic (shotguns and bloody scalps have a tendency to do that, after all) and is promptly arrested and thrown into lockup by the tough-as-nails, foul-mouthed Sheriff Fowler (Zach Galligan). He sends his deputies out to investigate Marybeth’s claims of a huge swamp massacre, which they end up finding more than abundant evidence of (mostly numerous small pieces of former living folks). Back at the jail, Marybeth is being harassed by Sheriff Fowler’s ex-wife, the tenacious local reporter Amanda (Caroline Williams), who wants vindication for the entire town thinking her belief in Crowley is a load of zombie-shit. Seems that Amanda has been doing her research and knows a thing or two about Crowley that Marybeth doesn’t: namely, the hulking, unstoppable monster is also a “Repeater,” a cursed individual doomed to be reborn each night so as to continue its cursed killing streak again and again, ad infinitum. Uh oh. As the night creeps in, Sheriff Fowler and his deputies are going to learn one thing the hard way: you just can’t keep an enormous, undead, hatchet-wielding maniac down. It’s now up to Marybeth and Amanda to delve deep into Victor’s disturbed childhood, find the source of his “returning” and put an end to the curse once and for all.

As the third film in a growing franchise, Hatchet III occupies a rather interesting position: at this point, can the film ever stand on its own or it only valuable as a part of a greater whole? Personally, I feel that it’s possible to watch individual franchise entries in any horror series on their own, without the benefit of the “bigger picture,” as it were. That being said, however, Hatchet III is a true sequel, picking up, as it does, from the end of the previous film and actually manages to expand on the original mythos. As such, we’re actually left with a situation a little closer to Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings films (bear with me here), where the overall feel is of one, long film hacked into three separate pieces. It’s certainly possible to watch Hatchet III on its own but I think the experience is actually made richer by mainlining all three at the same time: talk about your bloody weekends, though!

As a film, Hatchet III is a bit closer in tone to the second film than the first: there’s less obvious humor and more of a reliance on jaw-dropping practical fx and ultra-violence. There are also quite a few appearances from genre vets, including the hilarious performance by Galligan (Gremlins (1984), Gremlins 2 (1990), Waxwork (1988)) as the ridiculously tough lawman, Williams (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (1986), The Stepfather II (1988)) as the pushy reporter and an amusing cameo from all-around badass Sid Haig as a cranky old descendent of Crowley’s. Galligan, in particular, is pretty great, even if he’s never once convincing: there’s something awfully funny about watching young Billy all grown up and test-driving cuss words like he just learned them the other day.

Despite a slightly “direct-to-video” aesthetic, Hatchet III actual looks pretty good, certainly no worse than the previous sequel, at least. The swamp setting is used to good effect, once again, and the stuff about Repeaters is a really intelligent way to “explain” that old slasher movie conceit about the “unkillable killer.” The film is stuffed to the gills with some genuinely tense moments, although the emphasis is always squarely on the completely over-the-top gore sequences. To this end, we see limbs ripped off, heads power-sanded into oblivion, people hacked into bits, et al: it really is like a “greatest hits” of slasher-movie pandemonium and fans of the subgenre should be in hog heaven here. More sensitive stomachs, however, should certainly bolt for the hills.

Ultimately, what can I say? I genuinely enjoyed the first two films in the franchise, finding them to be fairly clever, well-made and fun throwbacks to ’80s gore films, perfect for a booze-soaked party or a little rainy-day weekend marathon. Marybeth is a suitably great “final girl,” Crowley has a nicely sketched in backstory and the supporting acting is always decent, bordering on quite good. At first, I was a little worried that handing the reins to another director might result in a lesser product but I needn’t have feared: Adam Green seems like he’s got the franchise pretty well under control, at this point. Here’s to hoping that he keeps finding inventive new ways to continue the misadventures of everyone’s favorite bayou baddie. Victor goes to Manhattan? Victor in Space? I’m ready for it, Green: bring it on!