362 - The Strangers review

If "Psycho" were released today, it would be under the pretense of being based on a true story. Its source material was inspired by the grisly exploits of (the unfortunately real) Ed Gein, but there was no Bates Motel, no shower murders, and no motherly corpses.

So when "The Strangers" opened with a statistic about violent crime and an assurance that we were watching a true story, I was skeptical. After the movie, I went home and began browsing for the "true story" I was promised. Apparently, writer-director Bryan Bertino based the screenplay around two things: 1. The Manson killings. 2. A creepy but non-fatal childhood incident. Hmm. Sort of like saying that "Forrest Gump" is based on a true story because there are mentally handicapped people who have run very fast.

Though it might be a cynical marketing ploy (as opposed to an offbeat joke like in "Fargo") to call the story true, "The Strangers" is a lean, effective horror-thriller for those interested in the genre. It's one of those flicks where the protagonists are stalked by seemingly omnipotent villains intent only on terrorizing them and drawing blood. The knifing-bags are Kristen (Liv Tyler) and James (Scott Speedman), a couple on the outs staying in a country home for the night. When James goes out to buy cigarettes, ominous sounds start taunting Kristen, banging on the doors and windows. Soon after, she spots the culprits, three masked creeps who move with the speed and quietness normally only associated with Navy SEALS, ninjas, and Batman.

Things go from bad to worse when the villains begin slinking through the house, destroying the phones and writing threatening messages on the windows. These moments are scary but often rely on much-ridiculed horror film logic; are we really supposed to believe Kristen and James won't try harder to escape, or that a curious passerby would just walk into the house without announcing his presence? Yes, we are if we want the film to continue.

Bertino does manage to translate universal fears into some powerful imagery. One particularly chilling scene has Kristen watch as the invaders casually stroll around the home, manipulating furniture and household objects as if intoxicated by their total hold on the lives of their victims. The attackers offer no explicit motives nor obtain any apparent gain other than the ecstasy they derive from terrorizing others.

This is where I searched for a sort of deeper meaning than what was readily discernable; is the film commenting on the manner in which unspeakable, seemingly random and faceless violence can shatter our existence without warning? Perhaps some claptrap about peculiar post-modern cruelty?

No, I don't think so. What we're left with at the close is the bloody aftermath of a horrific evening. Perhaps it was fun for the antagonists as well as the audience, but it ultimately means nothing more than that. We ultimately learn so little about each of the characters that their arcs could be described on the back of the movie ticket, and the plot could be thoroughly summarized in two short paragraphs. I can acknowledge that this serves people looking for exactly what it provides, but what about everyone else?

So if you're no stranger to this sort of film, you should enjoy it. If not, then you might not want to get acquainted.

2.5 out of 5

361

- Coming soon: reviews of "The Strangers" and "Sex and the City."

Some recent scores:

Bride of Frankenstein (1935) - 5
Frankenstein (1931) - 4.5
Lethal Weapon 3 (1992) - 3
The Naked Prey (1966) - 4
Near Dark (1987) - 4.5

- Can I see even one glowing review of Obama that doesn't focus exclusively on his skills as a speechmaker?

- Conversely, if McCain is going to compete he'll need to ramp up his speechin' abilities.

- It's amusing to me to see Democrats turning on the Clintons like this, seeing as the presidential couple hasn't changed one iota since bursting onto the scene 16 years ago. Ah, the fickle nature of American "democracy."

360

Video to accompany the below post:

359 - Ghost World article

Note: This isn't actually a review, but my attempt at a sort of critical essay. I've never done this before, so if it is pathetic or choppy, please forgive me.



Terry Zwigoff’s “Ghost World” is one of the most morally challenging films I’ve ever seen. It’s funny and brilliant, populated with impeccable performances and memorable moments, but it’s also mean-spirited and vicious. Or is it? The construction makes it hard to tell, which might be the point, but doesn’t make my job any easier.

Thora Birch plays Enid, the film’s acerbic protagonist. Fresh out of high school, Enid spends her free time (i.e. her entire life) slumming about town with her friend Becky (Scarlett Johansson). Willing and proud social misfits, they heap scorn on virtually everything and everyone that stumbles into their shallow lives. Though Enid could do this forever, Becky has started demonstrating a desire to move on with her life, much to the concern of her more sedentary chum.

The film really kicks off when the pair plays a vicious prank on Seymour (Steve Buscemi), a hapless, desperately lonely record collector. Becky instantly disregards him as a pathetic curiosity, but Endid begins hanging around him day and night. They forge a strong connection that each misunderstands. Enid sees Seymour as a sort of anti-rebel, a professional misanthropist like her who marches to the beat of his own drum. Seymour comes to view her as the cure to his isolation, a pretty pill that can reignite the will to live. Where else can this lead but ruin?

Whether or not the movie actually is cruel might come down to just who represents the film’s soul: Enid or Seymour. Enid seems like Zwigoff’s mouthpiece, but Seymour appears to be his self-portrait. Enid herself lacks malice, but also absent is concern for the experiences and feelings of others. Her relationships with others, be they Seymour, Becky, her boss during her one-day job at the movie theater, or her goofy art teacher (Illeana Douglas), are all marked by Enid’s complete lack of obligation. Not once in the film does Enid do anything kind for anyone else; the instances where she does demonstrate concern are either for the placation of her own ego (her attempts to get Seymour a date are like watching an overzealous parent push their child into sports) or to address a mess she created (her visiting Seymour in the hospital).

As a viewer, how does one overcome these obstacles? Enid is so well-written and perfectly acted that it’s near-impossible to disregard her outright, but what to make of a person with an attitude that dictates dodging the slightest inconvenience or responsibility to others? We can sense that Zwigoff isn’t asserting that her behavior deserves reward, but just how highly does he think of this borderline sociopathic twit? How much does he expect us to like Enid, to reconcile her wit and uniqueness with her terrible flakiness?

That these issues are so difficult might be indicative of Zwigoff’s skill. His later films (2003’s “Bad Santa” and 2006’s “Art School Confidential”) reflect a deep enough distrust and contempt for humanity that we know the worldview in this film was not a fluke. Though the film admires the texture of Enid’s quirky venom, I’d ultimately posit that it recognizes the substance for the results. Though some argue Enid and Seymour’s relationship was for the better, I suggest it was for the worse. While Enid gets to walk away, Seymour must carry the unbearable sting of rebuked happiness. And what can be a lot worse than that?