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Is There Any Such Thing As A Really Good Scare? Three Recent Horror Movies The Mummy, The Haunting, The Blair Witch Project
The Mummy
In the other "real" world that I lived in, good and evil were fairly abstract concepts that had to do with whether or not you cheated on your taxes or robbed banks. Hitler had been evil. People on the news were evil. Mother Theresa was good. The rest of us humans were just a murky mix of the two. You rarely ever saw one or the other in sharp relief. Suddenly it was that mix within myself that bothered me. Though I didn't want anything to do with Imhotep's pure embrace of evil he stared at me as if he had some serious claim on my soul. Unsettling for my childhood mind? Sure! Bad for me? I think not. Such thoughts were like waking up from a long period of sleep realizing I was late for a very important appointment. I count them among the most important of my spiritual journey. But it had been a long time since a modern film had sent any serious chills up my spine. Oh, there have been a few -- but mainly in the suspense genre and hardly any that approached the subject of supernatural horror. Instead, the usual modern "horror" film was and looked low budget, offered a curious mix of violence, gore and hoary cliché and, more often than not, enough sex to keep me away altogether. I knew that this new version of The Mummy was going to be big budgeted; over $100,000,000 in fact. And my first glance at the trailers left me intrigued. Armies of menacing undead mummies, living sandstorms, lavish costumes and sets all wrapped up in an Indiana Jones -type adventure. But would they give us the chills as well as the thrills? By the time we actually got into a preview screening my hopes were running high. The opening sequence blew my mind. It was atmospheric and skillfully borrowed the best from the Universal and Hammer mummy films. Ancient Egypt lay spread in all it's splendor; soaring stone palaces, darkly lit corridors all richly decorated with every bit of authenticity the ample budget could provide. Clearly, this movie's money was going to find it's way onscreen. All that remained was for the director to remain faithful to or reinterpret the original story. Typically, directors make some effort to update. How they do this often goes a long way towards revealing whether they understand the material. Sad to say, in this case the changes made in The Mummy's storyline do not make the story stronger. In the original, Court High Priest Imhotep is deeply in love with Princess Anck-es-en-Amon. She takes ill and dies driving him mad with grief. Beyond all reason he steals the scroll of Thoth which contains incantations which will raise her from death. Caught in his blasphemy he is sentenced to be buried alive. The scroll is buried with him. He awakes when the scroll is read centuries later and begins searching for the reincarnation of his beloved. After discovering her he kills, and destroys all who try to stop him from claiming her. This deeply tragic story is moral in every sense, for it calls into question the very nature of Imhotep's love for his beloved Anck-es-en-Amon. Because his love is entirely rooted in himself, Imhotep commits the ultimate blasphemy to reclaim it. When he is justly punished he goes to his grave unrepentant only to reawaken centuries later completely eaten up with selfish desire. That lust ultimately proves his undoing. In the 1999 version, High Priest Imhotep (Arnold Vosloo) is carrying on an affair with the Pharaoh's mistress, Anck-Su-Namun (Patricia Velazquez). Upon discovery, they connive together to kill Pharaoh and -- after being caught in the act -- they make a drastic decision. She will kill herself in the hope that her lover will have the opportunity to resurrect her later. He is buried alive only to be resurrected centuries later when Rick O'Connell (Brendan Frasier) helps lead a fierce battle at the now hidden ruins of Hamunaptra. O'Connell comes to the attention of two archeologists, one being the beautiful Evelyn Carnarvon (Rachel Weisz) and is hired to lead their expedition to the hidden city. Simultaneously, a rival team of archeologists (you know -- the bad archeologists) set out for Hamunaptra. And before you know it, everyone is up to their ears in flesh-eating scarab beetles, the resurrected and decidedly-evil dead, and the rescue of captured beautiful maidens. So much for high tragedy. In other words, Universal's newer version isn't a classic tragic love story -- but it is a rousing, often funny, occasionally spooky adventure story that owes a lot -- maybe too much -- to the Indiana Jones sagas. Don't get me wrong. There are some wonderfully spooky moments, although they come too few and far between for my taste. The flesh-eating scarabs (there's a perfectly awful comeuppance scene at the end of the film involving these hordes), and Imhotep's vengeance on the men who opened his tomb. I even thought that Rick O'Connell's fight with Imhotep's undead mummified army recalled some of the best moments of Ray Harryhausen's stop-motion animation for the Jason and The Argonauts and Sinbad films. The players acquit themselves fine -- with the exception of Arnold Vosloo who is no Karloff and given little opportunity to do anything but be a clotheshorse for the SE team. Brendan Frasier quips and flexes in fine action hero fashion, Evelyn swoons in all the right places, Jonathan, her slightly tipsy irresponsible brother played by John Hannah makes for fine comic relief and Kevin J. O'Connor makes for a very smarmy, weasel named Beni who guides the bad archeologists through Hamunaptra. Special mention should also be made of Jonathan Hyde (Titanic, and Jumanji) whose presence almost always helps elevate a film. I should also probably mention that they stack the extras like firewood in this movie. There's lots of gunplay and more than a few pretty gruesome B-Horror movie type deaths. Apparently the producers think this will give people the heebee-jeebees. They worked for me in a Hammer films sort of way. I had a really good time at this movie. I laughed I cried. It was much better than Cats. I want to see it again and again. But I was also letdown. Sometimes I like to go to the movies for more than just a good time. And it's especially disappointing to see Hollywood bury yet another of the great romantic myths alive, suffocated in the wrappings of special effects. Somebody's going to pay for this one in the afterlife. Dave Canfield
The Haunting
In addition to the above, make sure your sets look absolutely killer. In
fact, your location, "Hill House", should look like the biggest baddest,
haunted house in the history of the movies. But -- and this is where you
really drive the viewer crazy -- fill your haunted house full of cool
statuary and menacing wall carvings, but only bring to life the ones that are
most boring and least likely to scare anybody. This way your special effects
will still be expensive without actually adding to the sum-total of
heebie-jeebies.
Finally, when remaking a classic ghost story, be sure to change the ending.
Balance all that death and creepy stuff with a happy ending. In fact,
give your version a happy ending that evokes not a shudder-inducing
boney-fingered hooded sculpture on a moldy, crumbling tombstone, but rather a
Precious Moments figurine.
You may have gathered I was somewhat disappointed in this remake of one of my
most favorite scary movies. Call me old-fashioned, but I happen to adhere to
the traditional family value that a scary movie should be scary. I
experienced the heebie-jeebies three times at my screening of The
Haunting. The first was before the film, when the gentleman in front of
me invited the gentlemen in back of me to what sounded like it was going to
be a very kinky party. The second was when the woman next to me (a complete
stranger) cuddled up as the movie started ("Ooh sorry, giggle-tee-hee, I got
scared!"). Lastly, upon exiting the theater, the person I'd gone to the
movie with thought for a moment -- yikes! -- he'd lost his brand new hat.
Boy, that was scary. The point here is, Mr. Special Effects Breakneck Pace
Action Movie Director Jan DeBont needs to stick to movies where the scary
thing is what we see -- like tornados -- not movies where the heebie-jeebies
come mainly from what we don't see. The only scary thing about the The
Haunting is that a director, given enough money to start a small war, was
unable to generate the slightest bit of frisson.
D. C.
The Blair Witch Project
Based on a very simple idea, Blair Witch tells the story of three
young would-be documentarians who decide to investigate a local Maryland
legend involving a witch, a series of child dissapearances and a number of
ghostly visitations. It opens with a frame that reads as follows:
From that moment on, the viewer is left in the hands of the three actors --
documentarian Heather Donahue, and crewmen Joshua Leonard and Michael
Williams. It was a big gamble for Sanchez and Myrick to let their actors do
the filming and sound. None of them had more than two days training with the
equipment. The result is bumpy enough to induce occasional nausea but of
course the beauty is that you never see anything except what their Hi-8
camcorder and 16mm camera's reveal. Their footage follows them through five
terrifying days that lead up to their dissapearance.
And what do those cameras reveal? A startling, frail, humanity set apart from
the usual glamour we afford to actors. You can tell that much of Blair
Witch is improvised and though -- dramatically speaking -- some of the
moments we're offered are less satisfying than others, there's still the
feeling that we've been offered something true.
To begin with, Sanchez and Myrick had next to no actual contact with any of
the actors during the shooting. Instead, the actors were merely given
instructions to film everything they did and be at appointed places at
appointed times. Meanwhile, Sanchez and Myrick would hike ahead leaving
behind the next days film, a rough idea of each scene with key lines, and
provisions -- which were reduced significantly as the shooting progressed.
Keeping the actors off balance gives us, the audience, the opportunity to
size up Heather, Josh and Mike as people -- not just as characters. We
actually know more than the actors do about what is eventually going to
happen.
As they journey to Burkittesville to interview locals about the Blair Witch
legend, there are moments of uninetentional humor. One woman, holding her
toddler, begins to recount the legend, scaring her child. She calms her by
reassuring that the story isn't true and then mouths a quiet aside to the
camera that it is. This little vignette is especially interesting when
compared to the interview of Mary Brown, the crazy old woman on the edge of
town. Brown's story of having seen the Blair Witch should be easy for us, and
interviewer Heather, to discount.
But a glance at what happens a few moments later reveals something of the
tale's power, even on actors who are more or less free to play with the
details. Having left their car, the trio sets out to do some filming at a
location central to the legend. In spite of a well-marked map and a compass,
they soon become lost (a fact which Heather stubbornly denies). An arguement
ensues, and it's after this initial friction within the group that Josh asks
Heather whether "...believes any of this stuff" (and by implication the
testimony of their interviewees). Heather replies, "I don't know, yet."
It's a telling moment for us, the audience, because we know better than to
believe what we're seeing up on the screen. Blair Witch is after all
just a movie, Heather, Josh and Mike simply actors. But we're tempted to
believe anyway.
This theme is explored further during the film in a number of scenes where
the actors who film almost everything they do and say begin to grow
increasingly hostile towards one another about the presence of the camera
using phrases like "Don't point that thing at me!" and " Not right now
please" to convey their discomfort at being seen as they really are. At one
point, Joshua actually grabs Heather's camera and shoves it into her
distraught face, saying, "I see why you like this video camera so much. It's
not quite reality. It's a filtered reality. You can pretend things aren't
quite like the way they are."
Clearly, the audience would like to do that as well. But The Blair Witch
Project, taken on it's own terms, provides little of the conventional
"It's only a movie" relief viewers are used to retreating into. As Heather
angrily glares into the camera, Josh finishes his tormenting by telling her
"I just want to make movies, Heather. Isn't that what we're here to do? Make
Movies?" In an age where people and products can seem indistinguishable
Josh's statement is a challenge to everyone who merely see the arts as a drug
to satisfy their entertainment jones.
The groundwork laid by the telling and retelling of the various Blair Witch
legends prepares the unaware actors and the audience not only for the
frightening events that follow, but for the idea that lostness -- not simple
suburban pleasures and amemnities -- may be humankind's actual natural
environment. Even if Heather, Josh and Mike get back to their respective
lives after their adventure, they'll still never be the same again -- not
unless they went into mental retreat, settling back into the comfortable
illusions afforded by their TV's, VCR's and stereos. Over and over again one
of the characters confronts Heather with the question, "Are you absolutely
positively sure you know where your going?!" It is the question of a
generation that, for all it's self-determination, is basically lost.
As Blair Witch progresses, we discover that Heather, Josh and Michael
are being stalked by something in the woods making their hellish situation
almost unbearable. If they don't know where they are how can they get away?
Adding to their frustration and fear is the discovery of a cleared area in
the forest decorated with piled rocks, strange symbols and stick figures made
out of bent twigs. Are these bizarre totems merely the work of locals
attempting to frighten the trio? Or have Heather, Josh and Mike somehow
fallen into a world made up of more than they can see, taste, touch, feel or
hear. Near the end of the film, Heather turns the camera on herself to record
a terrified confession that leads into the films horrific revelation about
the nature of the trio's plight and echoes an earlier line from the film
where one character responds to the question "Are you okay?" with "I'm hungry
and cold and hunted...and I just want to go home?!"
Almost the entire audience sat spellbound as the credits rolled during my
second screening of Blair Witch. And I can't help but think these
viewers were shaken in a way that does not often happen at the movies. Each
of us is stalked by, among other things, death. Going to the movies can be
just another way of hiding from that fact. The Blair Witch Project had
pretty well obliterated that hiding place and in these days of easy
transcendance that might be a good thing. It's hard to deny, that hunted down
feeling, that hunch that some great evil has a claim on our soul and it's
destiny. Maybe a little confession would suit us, here, in the woods, before
it's too late. D. C.
© 1999 Cornerstone Communications, Inc. All rights reserved. |
There aren't many real horror films made these days. In
fact Hollywood seems to have forgotten what a real horror film is supposed to
do. So when I heard that Universal Pictures was rethinking it's classic 1932
version of The Mummy with today's special effects I was wary as well
as elated. The 1932 original, starring Boris Karloff as the evil "Imhotep",
had terrified me when I caught it on late-night cable. Something about those
repeated close-ups of Karloff's long-dead, scale-encrusted eyes shot me
through with the knowledge of inescapable soul-damning evil. It was
as if some awful truth I'd always known -- but chosen to avoid -- was shoved
in my face way past midnight while the world around me slept. The original
The Mummy wasn't just some cheesy horror movie. It was a wakeup call
into the "real world" within Imhotep's eyes.
In the photo accompanying this review, we
see actor Liam Neeson is struck with abject terror -- he has just realized
that his new movie, The Haunting is an unneccesary withdrawel of funds
from his Schindler's List capital. Recipe for the wrong kind of
horror (i.e. "horrible") film: First decide to remake an established classic,
based on a great novel. Then hire a former cinamatographer to direct,
preferably someone who makes movies about exploding buses and tornadoes.
Next, make sure he has enough money so he can rely entirely on special
effects, lavish sets and crane shots, lots of crane shots. And hire a group
of five actors whose combined range of expression number well... five. Oh,
and there's one more thing. As you adapt the story, it's very important to
invert it. So where the original shows you nothing and leaves you
hanging breathlessly in suspense, the new version should show
everything so you keep your imagination from conjuring your own worst
fears -- which is, after all, the most special effect of a good horror film.
Lost in the woods -- a tired cliche,
perhaps -- referenced in so many fairytales, campfire stories, and urban
legends one would hardly think it a worthwhile basis for an entire film. But,
like most cliches, the image of being lost in the woods is too powerful for
us to shake off altogether. The forest is too symbolic of the dark,
unfathomable reality around and within us -- a confusing, murky vastness: at
best indifferent, at worst hostile. And the more certain we think we are of
our bearings, the more terrifying losing them becomes. Because, after all,
what does it mean to be lost if not to discover the central fact of our human
experience -- lostness -- is not geographical, but ontological. It's about
our fragile and fragmented sense of Self in relationship with a seemingly
monolithic not-Self, the Other. We're lost with or without the Other: the
Self often doesn't know who it is, even when it thinks it knows where it is.
Meanwhile, out there, in the woods, so to speak, is what might be perceived
as the Ultimate Other -- waiting to finally swallow us up. This is the very
frightening prospect upon which that The Blair Witch Project hangs its
frightwig.