Movie Review: Drag Me to Hell

With Drag Me to Hell, director Sam Raimi (Spider-Man) returns to the humor-laced horror subgenre he mined so successfully in his Evil Dead trilogy. Inventive in its staging and photography (credit in part goes to frequent Lynch collaborator, Peter Deming), the movie is clever. But, for better or worse, some of the cheeky humor seems quaint in today's post-"torture porn" era. And though I felt like I was sometimes the only spectator in on the joke, it didn't make me feel smarter as much as it made me feel older and out of step. Christine Brown (Alison Lohman) is a loan officer, recently transplanted to the West coast, and insecure about her past as a small-town, overweight farm girl. You get the sense that she'll do anything to repress her origins. She has a boyfriend, Clay (Justin Long), who comes from money; she dismisses her cravings for ice cream by pretending she's lactose intolerant; and she's even willing to help her bank evict frail, old Mrs. Ganush (Lorna Raver) from her house to get the promotion she desperately pursues. But Mrs. Ganush, a powerful gypsy witch, places a curse on her. For three days, Christine will be tormented by a goat-demon, the Lamia, before she is ultimately dragged into hell, for all eternity. Raimi and cinematographer Deming collaborated before, on Evil Dead II and Darkman. Like those movies, there's a gag-inflected aesthetic to most of the staging and shot designs. And the jokes are successful. When Christine retreats into her bedroom, as the spirit of the Lamia creeps up the steps, there is a cut to a p.o.v. shot of the locked door from her vantage point in the room. As the long shadow of the Lamia stretches into the room slowly through the crack of light underneath the door, one can't help but chuckle at the poster hanging next to the entrance - of a cat dangling by its paws -captioned, "Hang on, baby." But the humor has an innocent, juvenile nature to it, that seems immature in today's era of horror commingled with gore and sexuality. When Mrs. Ganush attacks Christine in a tool shed, the speedy cuts of the old lady sticking her arm elbow deep into Christine's mouth are more Bugs Bunny than phallic. Evocative of Ash's fight against his demon-possessed hand in Evil Dead II, the camera rapidly gives us the Rube Goldberg-like geography depicting the placement of a hanging anvil, as Christine quickly cuts the rope with an ice skate she finds in the shed, squashing the old gypsy like Wile E. Coyote. Yeah, I get Raimi's brand of comic scares. I've been a casual fan of his for most of his career. But even though Drag Me to Hell's clever frights are a lot more ingenious than much of what you see in horror today, and the film has a phenomenal finale, I was left somewhat sad. For once, I feel like a good filmmaker has pulled out all the stops to impress me, but I've simply outgrown his sensibility. Drag Me to Hell opens in theaters nationwide this Friday.

Movie Review: The Ruins - Young Cast and Director Freshen Up Peculiar Chiller

by Tony Dayoub

The Ruins opened this past Friday in theatres. The screenplay by Scott Smith is based on his own bestselling horror novel. In the story, a group of friends vacationing in Mexico venture out to a remote Mayan ruin to try to fit in some culture in between their otherwise alcohol-soaked escapades. There's a reason the ancient temple they find is not on any maps, they soon find out. It is a place of foreboding and death, one that not even the surrounding flora and fauna get near... except for a creeping vine covering the structure. Smith's screenplay is not as impressive as his earlier one for Sam Raimi's A Simple Plan. But The Ruins is enlivened by an excellent young cast and director.

A horror movie is most effective when you come to identify with the intended victims in it. In the current crop of such movies, it is difficult to relate to the largely anonymous cast of novice actors. This film casts extremely talented actors that draw you in. Not unlike Brian De Palma's Carrie, I believe in years to come this movie will be revisited by those curious to see the cast of young actors, who will no doubt be in demand in the future. That film had such up-and-comers as John Travolta, Sissy Spacek, and Amy Irving. This film stars Shawn Ashmore (the X-Men films), Jena Malone (Donnie Darko), Laura Ramsey (She's the Man) and Jonathan Tucker (Texas Chainsaw Massacre), all relative unknowns. Tucker (so effective in the neo-noir The Deep End) is capable of letting his teary eyes speak volumes of fear while he tries to keep the group focused on escaping their plight. Ashmore buries his preppie good-looks behind frizzy hair and full beard to get us to connect with his regular-joe. Malone's frown belies her determination in surviving their predicament.

Special praise goes to Ramsey. I'm rarely caught off guard when seeing an actor. I usually recognize them from somewhere. Ramsey, though relatively new, has done some noteworthy films. But she is extremely sympathetic in a role that could have easily been, for various reasons, the most annoying in the film. I see big things for her pretty soon. All the young actors give distinct voices to characters that could have been ciphers, making the movie even more chilling.

Director Carter Smith conjures up some genuine shocks by leaning on traditional elements of fear rather than gory violence. It looks especially challenging considering much of the film takes place in bright daylight. But by concentrating on sound effects, judicious - instead of generous -use of blood, and the dynamic cinematography of Darius Khondji (Se7en), Smith is able to muster up some horrific moments. Even more impressive is his assuredness given that this is the former fashion photographer's first feature-length film (check out his disturbing, gay-themed, horror short Bugcrush).

Encourage filmmakers to turn away from the current trend of torture-porn cinema, and go see this small old-fashioned chiller instead.

Movie Review: Rambo - Full Circle

by Tony Dayoub

Though Sylvester Stallone left the ending open enough to allow for even more sequels, this deserves to be the last Rambo film. The movie's final scene ends the series on a graceful note, a subtle reference to the first scene in First Blood. And even though the violence and gore is the most brutal that this series has ever seen, it is evident Stallone is commenting on both the political and artistic baggage which has often weighed down the character.

The film picks up 20 years after Rambo III. Rambo is still living in Thailand, though he is no longer living in a monastery nor stick-fighting to support himself. He has now retreated further into Thailand's jungles where he runs a small crew that sells snakes to a local snake-fighting showman. Thought he couldn't verbalize the demons haunting him before? He is even less prone to talk now. Which is why when a group of missionaries call on him to ferry them up to Burma, rife with the destruction of a genocidal civil war, he wastes little time in his monosyllabic refusal to take them up there. But when one of the missionaries, Sarah, connects to him on an emotional level, he gives in. He journeys up the river, evoking images of Apocalypse Now, for this is Rambo's heart of darkness we are voyaging into. Ten days after he has dropped his passengers off, Sarah, and her fellow missionaries have disappeared, possibly being held captive by the Burmese army. Guess who must rescue them?