Dan and Derek Morrow seem to be on the right track with their stop motion animated shorts. With a larger budget, their ambitious and touching narratives could become wonderful films for all ages. “Comet” was adorable, and “Token Hearts” really has potential to be widened in to a great Christmas oriented fantasy film.
With “Tusk,” director Kevin Smith completely rips off Stephen King and Tom Six, mixing together “Human Centipede” and “Misery” in to one really awful concoction that I was barely able to make it through. Serving as a simultaneous ad for his crappy podcast, this time rather than James Caan as a respected writer, Justin Long is an amoral moronic podcaster whose own celebrity status has transformed him in to a fame obsessed pseudo-Howard Stern. Much like Kevin Smith. I can only laugh at Smith’s self-congratulatory inference that today’s podcaster is the modern storyteller like the writer. But hey, at least he got to squeeze in obligatory cameos from his and Johnny Depp’s daughter.
You could pretty much rebrand the 2014 “The Town That Dreaded Sundown” as “Scream 5” and not many people would know the difference. Except that no film in the “Scream” series has ever been this bold or subversive before. “The Town…” 2014 is a film about the influence of films that disturbs, polarizes, and effects greatly. There’s rarely any satire and zero tongue in cheek, just a mad man viciously murdering people to the tune of a very effective crime thriller/slasher film from 1976. I’d be hard pressed to call this a remake or a reboot, as it’s more a sequel than anything.
Ben Falcone and Melissa McCarthy’s “Tammy” is yet another comedy vehicle this year tailored as a vanity film for a specific comic presence that fails on every conceivable level. The movie most of all fails Melissa McCarthy who is much better than this pile of unfunny junk. “Tammy” is specifically tailored for her, and yet she and husband Falcone can never decide what tone they want to run with, they never land even the slightest one-liner, and every effort to make titular Tammy likable is wasted. I’m not even sure what is wrong with Tammy and why she’s comedic. Is she mentally disabled? Is she just naive? Is she the product of coddling and spoiling who just never matured? Is she just a perpetual loser? Are we supposed to laugh at her? Why is watching a human being in constant misery supposed to be funny?
If there’s one film I’d suggest to blossoming horror fans that need a primer course for the genre, I’d suggest “Terror in the Aisles.” It’s not a horror movie, so much as a compilation of some of the most interesting thrillers and horror movies from the seventies and eighties, and it touches on the idea of horror’s role in our everyday lives. Why do people love to be scared? What keeps us coming back to horror movies? Why do so many people frighten by horror cinema when there are valid threats in reality? One of the more interesting ideas behind “Terror In the Aisles” is the exploration of movie going as a communal experience.
Once upon a time we could sit in a large dark room with a bunch of strangers and soak in a horrific experience together. We’d laugh, flinch, scream, and feel some sense of camaraderie, in the end. That’s become something of an antiquated habit with the advent of home entertainment. I won’t be seeing “Terror in the DVD Player” any time soon. The gorgeous Nancy Allen and Donald Pleasance host what is a pretty well put together montage that examines fear and how we use it as a means of excitement and exhilaration, even when we’re sitting in the comfort of a movie theater. Allen and Pleasance’s hosting is fantastic as they indulge the audience with charismatic introductions of key moments in some great horror films.
They’re fitted to topics like sex, natural terrors, the occult, and despicable villains. One of the reasons why the documentary is still so resonant is because there are moments during the compilation where we’re given a glimpse at movie goers watching and reacting to horror movies. Scripted as they may be, director Andrew J. Kuehn captures the thrill of the movie theater and losing yourself in frights accurately, and they result in some fun and funny slices of life. I’m still a bit taken aback that there are no clips to “Dawn of the Dead” or “The Exorcist.” You figure two films with such impact on the horror medium, including the latter title would be the centerpiece of the documentary.
Despite that glaring omission, there are still a myriad iconic moments from great films like “Scanners,” “Strangers on a Train,” and “Carrie.” Kuehn’s documentary is a thrilling and excellent celebration of horror and the movie theater community, and is a must see to this day.
Forty years later and there’s still nothing like “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” Not a single film no matter how brutal has managed to be as unsettling and nerve rattling as Tobe Hooper’s masterpiece. It’s astonishing how Hooper’s master work hasn’t aged a day and still retains much of its raw guerilla filmmaking aura. The man and the cast suffered to make his horror thriller about maniacs in the South, and it shows through every single film cell.
“The Texas Chain Saw Massacre” is a horror film I not only respect, but revere, if only because it bears such a realism to it that feels as if Tobe Hooper let loose a bunch of lunatics on an unwitting cast of actors. Much in the realm of Ruggero Deodato’s “Cannibal Holocaust,” there’s the sense that Hooper clings very closely to reality, and covers every single aspect of this vicious environment. You can sense the thick stifling heat, the horrific confusion and chaos, and Leatherface. Leatherface is still the wild insane rabid dog let off of his collar, free to roam as he pleases. Gunnar Hansen as Leatherface is still a terrible force of nature who spares no one, and inflicts immense punishment on the flower children.
It’s interesting to see how Tobe Hooper doesn’t just provide a flawless masterwork of horror, but also manages to depict a very rotten and disgusting environment by sight alone. Every aspect of “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre” feels very aged and filled with years of decay, and Hooper is a master at creating so much out of very little. Hooper’s horror film is still an iconic artifact in grade A horror filmmaking, as well as building an entire narrative around chaos and pure anxiety. From Sally’s forced attendance at the family dinner, to her insane cackling in the final scene of the film as she bathes in blood, director Tobe Hooper’s film takes on a pulse all its own that’s yet to be duplicated or rivaled to this day.
The 40th Anniversary Edition comes with four audio commentaries. There are about six hours worth of commentaries, with director Hooper sitting down with the surviving cast and crew of the film. There’s an audio commentary with Director/Writer/Producer Tobe Hooper, Actor Gunnar Hansen, and Cinematrographer Daniel Pearl, there’s a second commentary with Production Designer Robert Burns and cast members Marilyn Burns, Allen Danziger, and Paul A. Partain. There’s an audio commentary with Tobe Hooper, and finally a commentary with Cinematographer Daniel Pearl, Editor J. Larry Carroll, and Sound Recordist Ted Nicolaou.
I’d be very hesitant to call “Turtle Power” the definitive history of the Ninja Turtles franchise since it’s only ninety minutes, covers only the nineties portion of the series history, and feels like a glorified DVD extra, but all in all it’s still a worthwhile documentary. Director Randall Lobb composes an entertaining history of the series teeming with excellent nostalgia that chronicles the origins of TMNT from their introduction as an independent comic book, to their inevitable domination of the world in the eighties and nineties. “Turtle Power” definitely has some interesting tidbits and trivia about the franchise and the series in general, while the producers are slick to feature some of the 2014 TMNT posters in a few timeline graphics.