Director Report Card: Wes Craven (1991)

13. The People Under the Stairs

By 1991, Wes Craven was well on his way to becoming a brand name. In a few years, he would be slapping his name on unrelated, kind of crappy low-budget flicks. Even though “Shocker” underperformed, the director still had a solid reputation. Perhaps this combination of prestige and desire to prove himself is why “The People Under the Stairs,” a real gem, emerged when it did.

The film sets up its premise very quickly. The protagonist, nicknamed Fool and directly compared during the opening credits to the Tarot archetype of the same name, lives in the L.A. ghetto with his sick mother and pregnant sister. On the day his family is evicted from their crack house apartment, an equally archetypal treasure hunt presents itself. The landlords who own the slums supposedly have a cache of rare, valuable gold coins hidden somewhere in their sprawling home. Once he breaks in, Fool discovers neither the home nor the landlords are what they appear to be, discovering a twisted, frightening world inside.

While Wes’ films frequently feature social commentary of some sort, “The People Under the Stairs” shows the director moving into overt political commentary. The villains of the film are slumlords, draining the local populace of all their resources, growing richer and fatter while their tenants starve to death. Mommy and Daddy are introduced eating the flesh of an animal. As the story progresses, we discover them to be cannibals, the rich literally eating the poor. While there are no supernatural elements in the film, the villains might as well be vampires, sucking the life blood from the less fortunate around them.

The movie blatantly invites comparison to real life politics. Mommy at one point says, on the steps of her huge home, “It’s as if we are the prisoner and the criminals roam free,” the kind of Republic rhetoric still in use today. The villains don’t just exploit the poor, they also imprison them in the house’s basement. Righteous retribution comes at the end, with the put-upon clawing out from the walls and floorboards, attacking the rich. The final image of the film is the villain’s home exploding, raining money over the ghetto, a moment of pure wish fulfillment. On top of this, Daddy bears a frequently commented on resemblance to Ronald Reagan and TV coverage of Desert Storm shows up at one point.

Beyond the social commentary in the film, “The People Under the Stairs” shows the director’s continued interest in the concept of family. Mommy, Daddy, and their abducted children play like the Nuclear Family from Hell. Mommy cooks the food, even if that means chopping up intruders. Meanwhile, Daddy defends the home, blasting people away with a shotgun. The daughter lives in terror, constantly abused for not living up to her psychotic parents’ standards. Like in “Deadly Friend,” the movie deals frankly with the kind of child abuse that frequently hides under clean, suburban homes. At one point, when cops investigate their house, Mommy and Daddy slip on a mask of civility and normality easily, hiding their twisted true nature.

Mommy and Daddy are another one of Wes’ memorable creations. The two live in their own world. The way they act, somewhere between 1950s idealism, twisted backwoods abuse, simultaneous asexual and sexually deviant, is unnerving. The two appear to be genuinely deranged individuals. Wendy Robie as Mommy is frankly terrifying, screaming and brandishing a huge butcher knife. Has there ever been a more convincing “crazy bitch” performance on screen? Poor Alice, the adopted daughter, is held down, screamed at, and forced to slide around in blood, all deeply upsetting moments.

As Daddy, Everett McGill similarly goes over-the-top, his big, glowering face being used well. One of the film’s most memorable images is the towering McGill running around in a full-body S&M leather gimp suit. As the man of the household, Daddy is the sexually aggressive one. Scenes of him holding Alice down, sniffing a boy’s shorts, or feeling himself up are oddly funny but hint at disturbing, off-screen events. McGill and Robie also played a couple on “Twin Peaks,” which makes sense. Craven and David Lynch both subvert the traditional family unit to surreal, disturbing effect. Oh, and did I mention the characters are brother and sister too?

There are other Craven trademarks present here. “The People Under the Stairs” shows the improvised booby trap making a strong comeback. The villains’ home, where most of the action is set, is perhaps the biggest Wes Craven Booby Trap ever devised. We see doors on trip-wires pulling themselves shut, stairs that turn into slides, electrified door knobs, giant spikes on a trigger, and coins stuck into a melting candle. “Scream” wasn’t the first time the director subverted horror clichés as here, when faced with a spooky basement, a character says “I ain’t stupid!” and turns to leave. And maybe it’s just because I like “Deadly Friend” so much but another young girl looking longingly, silently out a window seems to recall that film.

“Shocker” and “Deadly Friend” both struggled with tonal inconsistence. “The People Under the Stairs” also jumps back and forth between intense horror and wacky comedy. A vicious Rottweiler figures in to many of the film’s scenes. While an early attack generates some tension, the dog is a bit too cute to be truly fearsome. The dog careening down a slide is too silly. Silly moments, like exaggerated dog punches, dick punches, or kids hitting adults with slingshots makes this seem like a “kids on an adventure” flick, like “The Goonies” or “The Monster Squad.” It’s not, really. Silly moments like that should contrast badly with moments of explicit horror. A little girl getting dumped into a boiling tub is probably the film’s most disturbing moment. Once the butchery starts, the film doesn’t pull back on the gore, showing a corpse chopped up in graphic detail. However, unlike the tonal shifts in the director’s previous films, these actually work in the film’s favor. “The People Under the Stairs” plays like a modern fairy tale, showing young kids stumbling into a dark netherworld, hunted by human monsters.

Horror fans should be satisfied. Atmosphere is frequently built with little. Slow, quiet pans around the living room or a creepy basement are good examples. Moments like this build tension. Tight corridors behind walls and into air vents make for claustrophobic thrills. This is the director’s first movie in a while not to feature a nightmare sequence but even then, some scenes have a strange, nightmarish tone to them. Flashlights shining through the wall or a hand pulling someone through an open door feel that way. The movie’s scariest moment involves Fool being attacked by the dog on one side of the wall while Daddy stabs through the wall with a bayonet on the other side. It builds well and ends well.

Wes Craven’s visual direction continues to evolve. The camera frequently slides around the house in evocative, interesting ways. A bayonet sliding out of the wall, in extreme close-up, blood dripping off it, is a great image. A shot of a long hallway, a pair of legs sticking out around the corner, is another interesting image. A pile of dead flies is an inventive, neat moment. The film shows the director in a very creative mood.

Brandon Adams is great as Fool. The character is very likable, crafty and inventive. You root for him to survive and succeed. As you’d expect, the character transitions from Fool to Hero before the film’s end, marching back into danger to save the damsel in distress. It feels natural, not forced. A.J. Langer as Alice does well too. When she finally rebels against her “parents,” it’s a deeply cathartic moment. Adams has some hilarious facial expressions too. Ving Rhames, still early in his career, plays a very typical Ving Rhames part. He’s hilarious, throwing out absurd, ribald dialogue throughout. Sean Whalen and Bill Cobbs have notable supporting roles as well.

This is another movie Wes has talked up remaking. On one hand, I don’t see the point. “The People Under the Stairs” is a hidden gem, a surprisingly likable picture. Aside from some cheesy early nineties fashion, the movie has aged astonishingly well. But then again, a remake might be worthwhile. The social commentary behind the film is just as viable and relevant now as it was then. The film is rightfully considered a minor classic among horror fans and one of the highlights in Wes’ post-“Elm Street,” pre-“Scream” era. [Grade: B+]

Bangers n' Mash 22: Nerd Vomit IV: The Final Vomit

Some times reaching that "two episodes a month" is tricky, especially when real life intervenes. But somehow I managed, popping out the promised fourth (and this year's final) Nerd Vomit episode. The episode was suppose to be based around "Pacific Rim" but we actually spent way more time discussing Comic-Con and the announcements made there. If that doesn't clue you in, this Nerd Vomit is especially nerdy. (And vomit-y.) In addition to the usual ceaseless chatter about superhero movies, we also talk about toys.

Anyway, real episode next time, yada yada. Back to work on the director report cards.

Director Report Card: Wes Craven (1989)

12. Shocker

Remember when I said that “A Nightmare on Elm Street” loomed over the rest of Wes Craven’s career? I wasn’t kidding. Everyone of his proceeding films featured elements of that classic. “Shocker” took it to a new level, a blatant attempt to recreate Freddy’s success and spawn a similarly lucrative franchise. In a further attempt to mark the movie as the next big horror picture, Wes’ name was even stamped over the title, John Carpenter-style. But the movie underperformed. Horace Pinker didn’t become the next house-hold name in horror. Why did “Shocker” fail when “Elm Street” was such an influential hit?

The town of Berryville, California is terrified by a brutal serial killer, targeting whole families. College football star Jonathan Parker, after having a psychic dream about the killer and loosing his foster family to the murderer, leads the police, and his police chief foster dad, to Horace Pinker, television repair man and satanic serial killer. Before getting caught, Pinker murders Jonathan’s girlfriend as well. Once in jail, awaiting execution, Pinker apparently sells his soul to the devil, transforming himself into an entity made of electricity, able to possess human beings and live inside electronic devices. Realizing a familial connection to the killer, and aided by the ghost of his dead girlfriend, Jonathan attempts to track down Pinker and end his evil forever. Any of that sound familiar?

One presumes that, if “Shocker” was designed to compete with Freddy, it was intended to be a serious horror film. The first act seems to support this. An early nightmare sequence, of Jonathan walking home to find his family murdered, is almost eerie. Blood smeared on white walls, linoleum floors, or pooling out from under doors is a reoccurring image. A scene of the cops exploring Pinker’s repair shop, unaware that he’s watching them from behind a trap door, actually builds some suspense. Mitch Pileggi plays Pinker as effectively mean-spirit and the gut-stabbings and throat-slashings are well executed. The girlfriend’s murder is the movie’s most brutal moment, veering uncomfortably close to sexual assault. All of this is good, gruesome stuff. The rooftop chase where the villain is finally caught, featuring dramatic leaps between buildings and rough fist fighting, makes “Shocker” seem like a strong pulp thriller.

Once imprisoned, Pinker summons magical, talking lips from a television which grants his wish by saying “You got it, baby,” Audrey II-style. This is the first sign that “Shocker” is not what it appears to be. Pinker becomes a possessing spirit, slinging one liners while biting people’s fingers off and snapping necks. A chase through a day-lit park might have been thrilling. Our hero running between trees, bullets whizzing by, comes close to creating tension. But then Pinker possesses a little girl. Who then climbs into a front end loader, shouting profanity. The score blares on melodramatically but there’s no way this was meant to be taken seriously.

In the last act, the movie’s goofy streak goes into overdrive. A recliner grows eyes and attempts to strangle Jonathan. The killer delivers a real groaner about his “volts-wagon.” Hero and villain jump into a television, battling across different channels. Horace impersonates a fighter jet and a mushroom cloud. The Beaver, Frankenstein, Alice Cooper, John Tesh, and a white trash family telling terrible jokes make appearances. All of this is deeply campy and intentionally silly.  The tonal whiplash of “Deadly Friend” was probably unintentional but Wes wrote “Shocker.” What’s his excuse this time? Was the nuttiness of the ending supposes to contrast with the dark aspects of the beginning? Was Wes attempting to combine the tones of “Evil Dead” 1 and 2 into a single picture? Either way, it just leaves the viewer scratching their heads.

The cast is another problem. Peter Berg, future director of big budget action flicks like “Hancock” and “Battleship,” is never quite convincing as Jonathan. He sometimes goes over-the-top when acting traumatized or frightened. His facial expressions are frequently semi-comical. He’s most likable in the early scenes, playing an easily distracted football player. Berg is a palooka and Cami Cooper, as his girlfriend, is muted. The love between the two is supposed to be so deep that she returns from the grave to protect him. There’s a bit of chemistry between the actors but both performers' pure lack of talent makes them unable to sell the connection. It doesn’t help that the movie has Cooper shooting rays of light out of her chest in one scene.

Mitch Pileggi, whom Wes Craven had previously worked with on the hard-to-find TV movie “Night Visions,” is clearly meant to be the star of the show. Pileggi is adapt at gruff and mean-spirited turns. He too has trouble with the film’s tone. He berates Berg with a monologue that pushes between camp and truly sinister. Pileggi isn’t Robert Englund and can’t make bad one-liners and cheesy antics a guilty pleasure. Michael Murphy, as Jonathan’s police chef dad, probably does the best. I especially like the moment right after he pushes Pinker’s spirit out of his body.

The only smooth thing about the film is Craven’s direction. Craven has never been a particularly visual filmmaker but he brings his A-game here. He employs slow pans and long takes throughout. The electric chair is introduced in a very dynamic fashion, the camera circling around the room. I like a long shot of Jonathan walking through a house filled with white sheets. Pinker and Jonathan are visually connected when we see his reflection in the glass behind Pinker. There’s a rather atmospheric shot of fog rolling over a lake, surrounded by deep blue night. Craven even throws a reverse-dolly shot and an “Opera”-style look through a door’s peephole.

Universal clearly intended “Shocker” to be a big hit. The heavy metal soundtrack is given special attention, with superstar producer Desmond Child getting a special credit. Sometimes, the music provides some much needed energy, during a chase scene, or goes perfectly with the images on-screen, like the aforementioned electric chair introduction. Other times, it’s distracting like during a conversation between father and son. Heavy metal super-group Dudes of Wrath provide the title song while Megadeth contributes a tagline lending cover of Alice Cooper’s “No More Mr. Nice Guy.” How much you like any of this is a matter of taste, I suppose. The traditional score isn’t bad, though the heavy synth is sometimes distracting.

Here's a t-shirt.

All the focus on televised violence and TV-on-TV makes you wonder if Craven is slipping some social commentary in here. The ending features a whole town without television, stepping out to watch the stars. If this was the goal, there’s not much to go on. The movie has no clear opinion on the issue. “Shocker” could have been a decent, nasty thriller but decided to be a wacky comedy instead. Maybe that much discussed, still unmade remake would be better balanced. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Wes Craven (1988)

11. The Serpent and the Rainbow

There has been something of a critical reevaluation of “The Serpent and the Rainbow” in the last decade. Upon original release, the film was only a modest box office success and was critically divisive. For years, nobody talked about the movie. Until recently, when it started cropping up on lists like “Underrated Horror Classics” or “Scariest Movie Moments.” In his book, “A Year at the Movies,” Kevin Murphy says the film is one of three to ever actually scare him. This was an odd discovery for me since, for the longest time, I considered “The Serpent and the Rainbow” to be that mediocre Wes Craven movie that, for some reason, got played incessantly on cable.

The film finds Bill Pullman’s Dennis Alan, an ethnobotanist, hired by a pharmaceutical corporation to hunt down the infamous powder used to create zombies. While in Haiti, he finds love with a beautiful doctor and crosses the local corrupt government. The deeper he goes in uncovering the secrets of the zombie powder, the deeper he is drawn into the terrifying world of voodoo black magic. The story is loosely based off the non-fiction book by Wade Davis and directly adapts the semi-urban legend of infamous zombie Clairvius Narcisse. In real life, Mr. Davis has pointed out that he was never zombified and never fought an evil Houngan with his jaguar spirit totem. 

It’s apparent that this is another job Wes Craven got because of “A Nightmare on Elm Street.” You can’t say the producers didn’t get what they paid for. The numerous nightmare and hallucination sequences are by far the best moments in “The Serpent and the Rainbow.” The movie shows it’s strength for this early on when Bill Pullman is pulled into a black pit in the ground by a collection of grasping hands. There’s another creepy moment involving a walking corpse dressed in a white gown, slowly moving towards the protagonist. For me, the stand-out sequence starts slowly, with a strange burning boat floating on the water. This leads to a moment of claustrophobic horror, the room behind him shrinking into a coffin that slowly fills with blood. It’s a surreal, frightening moment and one that the film never tops. The fantastic sound design and frequently excellent score helps the movie along during these scenes.

The nightmares aren’t the only taste of Craven we get here. Perhaps the movie’s most affecting bit recalls Wes’ earliest, brutal day: An intense torture session, twenty years before “Hostel.” Pullman is strapped to a chair in the nude, his interrogators pacing around him. The camera focuses on the actor’s face as the villain behind him prepare the tools. Though the testicular trauma is kept off-screen, the film does a great job of building discomfort. When the nail is finally hammered in… Yeah, the guys in the audience are going to squirm.

Scenes that do work are sometimes immediately undermined. The opening hallucination fades into a cheesy looking green screen effect. Jump scares are only truly used once or twice. One, which ends with Pullman rolling into an open grave, actually isn’t bad. I still think they squander atmosphere. A bizarre dance sequence works well until the end when a grown man is tossed across the room in an unconvincing manner. The sight of a crucified pig is startling but the way that attack is settled is less so. A decomposed hand reaching out of a bowl of soup is creepy. A grown woman biting down on glass, swinging a serving knife around, and talking in a man’s voice isn’t. Undoubtedly the film’s centerpiece was meant to be the scene where we see a man buried from the buried’s perspective. Though decent, it never creates the intensity of earlier nightmare sequences. Worse, the moment is resolved with a clumsy plot device, an earlier character being revealed as nothing more then a lazy deus ex machina.

The movie moves into overt horror imagery at the end. There’s cool stuff here, like a zombie tearing his own head off and throwing it, or a man dangling upside down over a staircase. However, other elements come off as silly, like a chair creaking around or rubbery, long arms reaching out of doors. The finale sees the film becoming an action movie. Our formerly meek hero is suddenly throwing the bad guy into shelves, yelling swear words, and punching him in the face. It’s truly out of place and feels like the result of studio interference or test audience disapproval.

Bill Pullman, who I shouldn’t have to remind you is not the same person as Bill Paxton, is fine. Pullman is at his best when haggling for zombie powder, screaming in terror, or questioning the legitimacy of events. The problems with his character comes solely from the script. A heavy-handed voice over frequently puts too fine a point on the film’s themes. The voice over is used to awkwardly link scenes together. From time to time, Pullman has to deliver flat exposition about what voodoo is and the creation of the zombie powder. Early on, the jaguar is introduced as his power animal. His reaction to the animal represents his character’s developing arc. All of this is overly obvious.

The supporting cast is filled with recognizable character actors. Paul Winfield, typically, brings a great deal of substance to his small role. Cathy Tyson as the love interest delivers at least one great moment when criticizing Pullman’s character. Sadly, their romance is nothing but perfunctory. There’s no romantic sparks between the two. You never feel an attraction, even when they are entwine in a steamy love scene. The romance is even more problematic when it becomes Pullman’s primary reason to return to Haiti in the second act. Zakes Mokae and Brent Jennings are the true stand-outs in the cast. Mokae plays the extremely ominous villain. He’s sadistic in a matter-of-fact fashion and takes great joy in his evil acts. Mokae’s performance is glowering and he packs every line with sinister intent. Jennings, meanwhile, is the closest thing the picture has to comic relief. His character has integrity despite being a con man. Jennings jumps between jovial and stern nicely. A small scene on a plane right before lift-off showcases Jennings’ charm the best. Michael Gough shows up for a near cameo, bringing all the charm you expect from the veteran actor.

At this point in his career, Wes Craven had developed into a fully commercial filmmaker. “The Serpent and the Rainbow” is the first film where it appears he actually had a decent budget. He shows this off with long helicopter shots of the lovely Amazon rain forest. Haiti’s colorful culture is used as well, such as a great shot of a crowd marching up the streets, each person holding a candle. Over all, there’s none of the roughness that characterized Craven’s earliest films.

“The Serpent and the Rainbow” is neither the undiscovered horror classic nor the forgotten mediocrity either side of the critical divide thinks. The whole film never quite comes together even if several sequences stand out. The script is sadly routine and some of the filmmaker’s most interesting tendencies are repressed by the commitment to Hollywood formula. Still, when it works, it does delivers the scares. I'm not surprised fans look to those moments, glancing over the less effective bits. [Grade: B-]

Bangers n' Mash 21: A Nightmare on Our Street

If you've been wondering where the hell I've been the last few days, I've been working on this thing:



Yes, another episode of the much neglected, unpopular YouTube podcast-hybrid thingy. Mr. Mash and I recorded this episode about two weeks ago. It's taken this long to get out for a few reasons. First off, the source audio was over two and a half hours long and, as previously established, I've got to edit every single tiny little thing so we don't sound like complete morons. Secondly, I've actually been busy with, I know this next part will shock, real life! A shocker, for certain!

So anyway, that's why I haven't been working on the Wes Craven Report Card. I'll get back on track with that soon. And this is sort of related, isn't it? "A Nightmare on Elm Street" episode is actually the first request we've ever gotten. We had planned on doing one eventually anyway but the request made me decide to get to that topic sooner. I belatantly recycle my notes from the review I wrote here, so some of the rambling here might sound familiar to readers.

Anyway, we'll crap out another Nerd Vomit episode real quick so we can make our "two episodes a month" quota I arbitrarily enforce on myself. The next two won't take as long. Probably.

Director Report Card: Wes Craven (1986)

10. Deadly Friend

I have an inordinate amount of affection for “Deadly Friend.” It’s not a great movie. It might not even be a good movie. And yet I find myself returning to it more then any other film in Wes Craven’s career. Unlike other not-good movies that I love anyway, the exact reason why I keep returning to Paul, Sam, and B.B. alludes me. Each viewing is like a puzzle, examining the flawed single pieces and trying to figure out why they come together to form such an appealing whole.

Based on the honestly not-bad young adult novel “Friend” by Diane Henstell, “Deadly Friend” follows young Paul Conway and his mother moving to a new town in Pennsylvania. Paul is a young genius and has built a fully functional robot best friend named B.B. Though he’s close to B.B., Paul has a hard time forming bonds with people. That is until he meets Sam, the lovely girl next door. Unfortunately, events align to rob Paul of the two people he loves most in his life, causing the young scientist to take things into his own hands and reveal himself as a modern Dr. Frankenstein.

“Deadly Friend” is a compromised picture. This was the first attempt by Wes to move away from the horror genre. Originally conceived as a more family friendly boy-and-his-robot story, released perhaps not coincidentally the same year as “Short Circuit” and probably inspired by “Gremlins,” the first cut tested soft. The studio demanded that this Wes Craven movie actually become a Wes Craven movie. The director shot and inserted a handful of gory sequences to transform the picture into a proper horror film. This schizophrenic birth is blatantly obvious in the final product. “Deadly Friend” shifts back and forth between cutesy kid antics and over-the-top horror gore set pieces.

The kids’ movie roots are still evident, most obviously in the character of B.B. The robot pushes suspension of disbelief too far. First off, we have to buy that Paul invented artificial intelligence in his garage. B.B. has a distinct personality, can learn, and is completely autonomous. B.B. speaks in his own language, an annoying collection of bleeps, grumbling, and repetitions of his own name. B.B.’s audio is provided by Charles Fleischer, better known as the voice of Roger Rabbit. So keep your ears open for a familiar sounding trill. The character’s design is overly cute, with his yellow chrome, glowing eyes, and smiling face. When the robot is called on to be dangerous or show rage, the cute design distracts. B.B. also has super-strength, which the film displays in the worse possible way, with a piano being stop-motion tossed across a room. All of these wacky robot shenanigans contrasts badly with the serious subject matter of child abuse.

It’s very clear where the harsher horror elements have been hastily inserted. There’s an opening jump scare, making this seem like a very different type of film and further attempting to establish adorable B.B. as a creditable threat. There are two nightmare sequences that were obviously inserted to cash in on “A Nightmare on Elm Street.” The first one begins with a disturbing suggestion of sexual abuse, which makes it careening into campy, over-the-top gore even more off-putting. The second has a nice build-up, panning from the outside of the house to the bottom of a bed. However, the eventual pay-off is silly and, once again, unrelated to the film’s actual themes. The first murder in the film builds all right and makes good use of a basement’s shadows. Sadly, an actor’s ridiculous death face ends the whole thing in laughter.

If the movie is remembered for anything, it’s for the infamous exploding head. It’s clearly the center piece of the film. The scene involves a slow build-up. The frightened old woman sees the resurrected Swanson in the neighboring window. It’s a potentially interesting moment that doesn’t quite work. Slowly, the movie piles on the atmosphere. We see close-ups on the lock coming undone. The open gate blows in the wind. A door creaks open. A basketball slowly bounces into frame. It’s the film's only moment of genuine suspense. A jump scare deflates a lot of that tension. But then again, the exploding head. The graphic gore doesn’t match the film’s overall tone. An exploded head and decapitated body twitching around, blood spurting everywhere, really doesn’t fit. The effects are obvious but awesome. The scene encapsulates all of the film’s problems but, taken on its own, is amazing.

Matthew Labyorteaux, looking much older then his fifteen year old character, is technically the lead actor. Labyorteaux occasionally underplays it. He doesn’t show much grief when loosing the love of his life nor is their any wonder when he realizes his plans to recreate life are successful. Sometimes, he goes in the opposite direction. Watching his beloved pet robot killed in front of him would surely be a traumatic experience. However, Labyorteaux cries of agony are deeply overdone. The general melodramatic presentation of the scene doesn’t help any. Even then, Labyorteaux does get a moment a two, especially in the film’s second act.

He has top billing but Kristy Swanson is the star. Swanson has a naturalistic charm that makes her a deeply convincing girl next door. She seems like a perfectly normal, adorable teenage girl. Her wide, expressive eyes is used fantastically, especially in the latter portion of the film where Swanson only has her face to act with. The two teen leads have strong chemistry together and it’s mostly Swanson’s doing. A moment when she comes to the house, nose bloodied, is great. Sam shrugs the abuse off and stands by her father, even if he is a bastard. Though it starts out appropriately awkward, their love is sincere and pure. Another fantastic, small moment is when Sam celebrates Thanksgiving with Paul and his Mom. The romance between the two teens is the heart and soul of the film. Maybe the sweetest moment in the movie comes after Sam’s resurrection, when she has realized what happened. The two teens sit across from one another, desperately wanting to hold each other but unable to. The movie attempts to capture romantic longing and teen angst throughout but only that moment is truly successful. Over all, far too much of the Sam and Paul’s budding relationship is glossed over.

It’s a good thing that the two leads are strong because the supporting cast is seriously thin. It’s not the cast’s fault but rather the script’s. Sam’s father is immediately, obviously evil. A scene of him glaring at an empty liquor bottle is especially heavy handed. Even after accidentally injuring his daughter, he shows no guilt or remorse. It doesn’t help that Richard Marcus seriously overplays it. Similarly, Anne Ramsey is nothing but cartoonish. She is obsessed with protecting her property and calling the cops on the teens, a complete cliché. Even Michael Sharrett as Paul’s other human friend is problematic. Sharrett does okay in the part but the subplot doesn’t add up to much. Sharrett is mostly in the movie to help out during the hospital heist sequence, a moment that is far too madcap considering what’s at stakes. That character’s arc is eventually handled in a sloppy, unsatisfying manner, the typical cliché of male friends coming to blows over a girl.

Aside from the moments of gory violence, Craven has difficulty creating decent suspense in “Deadly Friend.” A moment when Sam returns home to a seemingly empty house builds decently and plays off of Swanson’s natural vulnerability. Once again, it dissipates into a lame jump scare and broad characterization. There’s a long moment involving sleeping powder in a coffee mug. I’m not sure if that sequence is going for laughs or thrills. Only his visual presentation is strong, making good use of shadows, open space, and scene transition.

The tonal issue affecting “Deadly Friend” eventually causes the film to almost collapse in the last act. Like electricity and radiation in the past, it’s decided that microchips can do anything. Once Sam and B.B. are occupying the same body, Swanson starts to move in a stiff, robotic fashion. Her motionless facial features are fine, eerie even. However, the way she holds her arms and hands is really goofy. The premise becomes impossible to take seriously during the finale, when you have a small teenage girl leaping through windows, battering boys her own age, and lifting adult men over her head. To make matters worse, Sam eventually starts speaking with B.B.’s silly, computerized voice. The inept visual robs the scenes of any emotional impact they should have. Even the final, poetic image of Paul holding Sam’s lifeless body is ruined by the pointless, senseless pre-credits scare. It doesn’t make any sense, goes against the characters as we know them, and features a rather silly looking robot mask. Even Charles Bernstein’s score is conflicted, jumping back and forth from whimsical strings to throbbing synth.

I think what fascinates me about “Deadly Friend” is its potential. The story tackles teen romance, child abuse, family, loss, grief, and re-purposes classic horror concepts in a modern setting. The movie is a prime target for a remake, one that could better synthesize those themes into a more cohesive whole. It’s hard to say if Wes Craven’s originally intended version of “Deadly Friend” would be a better movie. The version we have is something of a spectacular mess, several beautiful elements shining through the tonal inconsistency. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Wes Craven (1985)

9. Chiller

Though he was just coming off the biggest hit of his career and the film that would make his name synonymous with horror films, Wes Craven still had bills to pay. Or perhaps the critical and social clout of “Nightmare” wouldn’t become visible for a while. Either way, while Freddy was slashing up the box office, Wes was toiling in the TV movie trenches again. “Chiller” manages to be almost as silly as “Stranger in Our House” or “Invitation to Hell” but somehow even less entertaining.

The title might make you think “Chiller” is going to be an ice-themed horror flick. Instead, it focuses on the evils of cryonics! Yes, the same science that preserved Walt Disney’s head and threatened to make Gary Busey immortal. A man kept in stasis in a cryonics lab is suddenly unfrosted when his holding pod malfunctions. The liver transplant that was unavailable ten years ago has presented itself, bringing the newly unthawed Miles Creighton back to life. At first, his elderly mother, teenage sister, and corporate partners are overjoyed by the news. However, Miles came back wrong. He is now a soulless sadist, reeking passive-aggressive wrath on his unprepared family and friends.

Before we discuss the film proper, check out the DVD for this thing. It’s one of the strangest menus I’ve ever seen, falling just short of Inspector Gadget explaining everything to you. An omniscient narrator points out the features and describes the plot. The disc is either very old, very cheap, or, most likely, both. The film presentation itself is almost unwatchable. The sound is so garbled and static choked that you can’t even hear the dialogue some times. The picture quality is comparing to a third generation VHS, tracking lines intact. The commercial breaks have been hastily, awkwardly edited out. In other words, you might as well be watching this thing on YouTube.

The film’s script is rife with clichés and hokey elements. The film’s themes are theological, focusing on the purpose of the soul. This proves out of the reach of a crappy TV horror film from 1985. Cliché Watch: Man meddles in God’s domain and is punished for it. While Miles’ mother remains utterly clueless to his evilness up until the very end of the film, in what would almost be a decent portrayal of denial if it wasn’t so awkward, his pet Rottweiler is immediately aware. Naturally, the dog has to die first. A torn photograph is given overly melodramatic focus. The villain hits on trashy floozies before turning his sexist wrath on a female co-worker. A large portion of the film’s plot revolves around charity contributions!

Aside from being goofy and dumb, “Chiller’s” screenplay is also badly paced and awkwardly constructed. The film doesn’t have a proper protagonist, jumping back and forth between Miles, his mom and Paul Sorvino’s Reverend Penny. The audience never got to see Miles before his transformation, removing any meaning from his perverse new behavior. The first act is protracted, stretching on for a half an hour before the Chiller finally wakes up and makes it back to his home. Numerous other scenes drag on forever, like a scene of Sorvino and his wife talking about the soul in a church. The biggest issue with the film is that it’s so obvious to the audience that Miles is evil but everyone around him refuses to see it until it’s much too late. The mother, in particular, is deeply clueless.

“Chiller” utterly fails as a horror film. The opening scene stretches an attempted scare out for a long time, which involves a shambling aluminum foil man, before concluding with a lame fake-out. A scene largely shot form a dog’s perspective, as he stalks a hallway, might have worked had it been the killer’s perspective we were seeing. As it is, it’s a long scene with an unimpressive pay-off. One of the most ridiculous moments in the film is the stairway sequence. It’s dramatically shot but also utterly ridiculous. “Chiller” features one of the most passive aggressive killers in horror history, as Miles kills a man by forcing him to walk up the stairs. Why doesn’t the old man just stop? Beyond that, we’ve got a park stalking scene that builds to nothing. A car is used as a lethal weapon but in a laughable manner. A stunt man clamoring behind the vehicle as it drags him proves a comical sight. The finale in a meat locker could have, once again, been suspenseful if the filmmaker wasn’t so obviously bored with the material.

Only two or three horror sequences work in any way. The film somehow wrangled the great Stan Winston into doing the effects. This is only evident in one scene when the Chiller first wakes up, a bunch of bladders fluttering under his skin, an odd moment of body horror. It’s cool, even if it’s obvious and goes on too long. Miles sexually menacing his female co-worker honestly recalls “Last House on the Left,” even if the actress’ broad performance sinks any of the tension. The only moment that is truly creepy is the villain’s attempt seduction of his little sister. Besides the squick-y premise, the scene mostly works because Jill Schoelen is especially good at appearing vulnerable. Even then, the leopard print décor of the room adds some unintentional humor.

Speaking of the cast… Paul Sorvino is mostly grave and muted as the Reverend. He’s one of the few reasonable characters in the film, noticing something is wrong with Miles early on. He alternates between bored and committed to whatever dialogue he’s given. Schoelen’s role is very similar to her later part in “The Stepfather,” as another daughter that notices the new male in the house is villainous when others don’t. Michael Beck as the Chiller has a moment or two of devilish glee, his face bathed in blue lights, but is mostly horribly bland and muted. Beatrice Straight is, by far, the worse, delivering each line wide-mouthed and dumb founded.

“Chiller” eventually pays off on its title’s promise, Miles eventually becoming a blue-faced murderous ghoul, however briefly. A potentially poetic image of a mother cradling her dead son is ruined for the sake of a lame jump-scare. The film’s theme of religious conviction comes back for the hilariously melodramatic penultimate scene. “Chiller” then ends on one of the most unpromising sequel hooks I’ve ever seen, suggesting there’s an entire locker full of soulless murder machines just waiting to break out. Man, somebody’s gonna’ get sued over that.

And thus concludes the Wes Craven TV Movie Trilogy of Crap. Unlike the other two films in the trilogy, which were terrible but at least unintentionally hilarious, “Chiller” is mostly just a bore. The pacing is strained, the performances broad, and the scares non-existent. The droning electronic score might be one of the worse I’ve ever heard in a horror film, though the sound quality of the disk doesn’t help. You have my permission to skip this one. [Grade: D-]