Showing posts with label Margot Kidder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Margot Kidder. Show all posts

Sunday, October 1, 2017

There's A Place On Ocean Avenue

Year: 1979
Director: Stuart Rosenberg
Cast: James Brolin, Margot Kidder, Rod Steiger 
Run Time: 1 hour 57 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

It’s October again, which means that Popcorn Culture’s stern turns once more toward a franchise that hasn’t yet been covered on the pages of this here blog. Those are getting harder and harder to come by, but this year I’ve made the phenomenally stupid decision to tackle my horror movie Mount Everest: the outrageously expansive haunted house franchise The Amityville Horror.

It’s incredibly difficult, almost impossible in fact, to decipher what even counts as an “official” Amityville Horror sequel and what it merely a cheap rip-off with Amityville in the title. You could describe essentially every Friday the 13th sequel that very same way, but the difficulty stems from the fact that this franchise is based on a true [sic] story and you can’t copyright the name of an actual real-life town. Nevertheless, it’s time to brush back the cobwebs and take a long DeLorean ride back to that distant era of 1979. We’re knocking on the door of the very first entry in this sprawling cinematic pile: Stuart Rosenberg’s The Amityville Horror.

Get out while you still can!

So. We’re in Amityville, as you’ve probably guessed. Enter the Lutz family: George (James Brolin), Kathy (Margot Kidder), and their three mostly interchangeable moppets. Their funds are tight, but they find a sweet deal on a lakeside house with creepy windows that resemble a pair of glaring eyes. As it turns out, the house was the site of a brutal murder a year prior, where a young man shot his entire family and then himself. The house also may or may not have been built on a Satanic ritual site or something. The film offers up many possible spooky explanations, but commits to none of them because at this point in time, they were at least pretending to be delivering the facts in this real life story.

Anyway, over the next month, paranormal happenings begin to slowly accumulate into what could only charitably be called a crescendo: spooky eyes appear outside the window, one of the girl children acquires a very opinionated imaginary friend named Jody, and Kathy’s visiting spiritual guardian Father Delaney (Rod Steiger) falls terribly ill after visiting the property. While Delany argues in favor of an exorcism with the obtuse Father Ryan (Murray Hamilton, who apparently made a career out of committing innocent suburbanites to bleak fates after playing the Mayor in Jaws), George Lutz’ sanity slowly begins to break apart, mirroring the murderous impulses of the previous owner.

And skipping all his barbershop appointments.

The Amityville Horror is a household name horror film, the second highest-grossing movie of the year (behind Kramer vs. Kramer, a number one smash that would never happen in today’s cinema climate). So it has to be great, right? Right?!

Truth be told, I have no idea why this film is so renowned, other than the fact that it’s based on an incredibly popular book/true-ish story. But against all odds, it was a zeitgeist tale that captured the public imagination the time. And yet the film is just unspeakably dull.

It has its share of spooky flourishes, but even at the time there wasn’t a single thing original about it, and the good bits are spaced punishingly far apart, considering how uninspired they tend to be (ironically, The Conjuring cribs a huge portion of its set design from this movie, and its sequel even steals an entire scare gag). The Haunting had already cemented in the tropes a good 16 years before, and two great movies reworking a lot of the same ideas would arrive a mere year later to prove just how incompetent Amityville was at its own game: The Shining and The Changeling.

All cliché and no plot makes George a dull boy.

It’s just so damn episodic. The film is shackled by its devotion to the “reality” of the case, refusing to allow itself to depict events in anything but the most rigorously detailed, diary-esque way. Day after day slides by with little consequence, setting up a boil so slow it’s almost imperceptible, barely reaching “lukewarm” before the credits roll.

All this is interspersed with Rod Steiger’s increasingly desperate attempts to save the family. These scenes are everything the Lutz material is not (the only quality they both share is that they’re terrible). Steiger’s scenes ditch the low-key atmosphere in favor of stilted melodrama and a bizarre crib from The Exorcist with no stakes whatsoever that appears to affect the plot not one whit. Steiger almost always ends up shouting at the top of his lungs, his eyes threatening to bulge out of their sockets. 

These scenes fit into the rest of the film like a square peg in a boring screenplay.

Unfortunately (because this must be the reason people still feel compelled to watch it), there is some good to be discovered here. Lalo Schifrin’s score has a haunting quality to its childlike chorus, the house exterior is an incredible feat of mundanely sinister design, and the opening murder scene is restrained and subtle in a way that actually heightens the tension.

And OK fine, there is one unequivocally terrific scene, in which a babysitter gets trapped in the little girl’s closet, forced to beat at the door until her knuckles are bloody. As for everything else, it’s just ephemeral. Nothing of major consequence happens for 70 minutes, nobody seems to be in any real danger even after that, and the story just peters out with an exhausted whimper.

The Amityville Horror is certainly not worthy of the haunted house pantheon it more or less presides over, though that box office pull proves that it was worthy of a dozen f**king sequels, at least in the eyes of Hollywood. I’m already fatigued by this marathon and it’s literally the first day… Wish me luck.

TL;DR: The Amityville Horror is a minted classic for no reason I can discern.
Rating: 5/10
Word Count: 1002
Reviews In This Series
The Amityville Horror (Rosenberg, 1979)
Amityville II: The Possession (Damiani, 1982)
Amityville 3-D (Fleischer, 1983)
Amityville 4: The Evil Escapes (Stern, 1989)
The Amityville Curse (Berry, 1990)
Amityville 1992: It's About Time (Randel, 1992)
Amityville: A New Generation (Murlowski, 1993)
Amityville Dollhouse (White, 1996)
The Amityville Horror (Douglas, 2005)
Amityville: The Awakening (Khalfoun, 2017)

Friday, December 25, 2015

Just Like The Ones I Used To Know

For our podcast episode about this very film, click here.

Merry Christmas! Once again, Santa Claus has snuck down our chimney to deposit a bloody good holiday shocker under the tree. I hope you left out cookies, because at Popcorn Culture, Santa gets a little axe-happy.

Year: 1974
Director: Bob Clark
Cast: Olivia Hussey, Keir Dullea, Margot Kidder
Run Time: 1 hour 38 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

1974, man. In a year nowhere close to the landmark dates of slasher history (roughly 1960 with Psycho, 1978 with Halloween, and 1980 with Friday the 13th), two enduring classics of the genre came into fruition. I, of course, have already spoken at length about the former, Tobe Hooper’s sweaty masterpiece The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. But our second proto-slasher is one that gets significantly less admiration but deserves perhaps even more: Bob Clark’s Canadian thriller Black Christmas.

Now, before you ask, yes that is the same Bob Clark who directed the seminal holiday classic A Christmas Story.

Isn’t film history fun?

In Black Christmas, the Phi Kappa Sigma sorority is beset by obscene phone calls from a menacing stranger, whom we the audience have just seen climbing the trellis into the attic via a nifty POV shot, four years before Halloween officiated the marriage between slashers and Steadicam. One of the sisters, Clare (Lynne Griffin) is shortly smothered with a plastic bag and dumped in the attic the day before the girls leave for Christmas vacation.

The remaining sisters are Barb (Margot Kidder), the lascivious drunk; Phyllis (Andrea Martin), whose perm is her most dominant character trait; and Jess (Olivia Hussey), who is pregnant and wants an abortion despite the objections of her angsty pianist Jim Henson-haired boyfriend Peter (Keir Dullea). As the girls and the police search for Clare (nobody thinks to look in the attic because the movie needs to reach feature length), the phone calls and murders continue, much to the chagrin of Lt. Ken Fuller (A Nightmare on Elm Street’s John Saxon, already well on his way to being typecast as a cop).

I guess it’s better than being typecast as a garbage man.

The things that make Black Christmas a classic are almost the exact opposite of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Where Hooper’s film was unpolished dynamite, Black Christmas is a tensely coiled, glistening piano wire. Where TCM was a visceral gut punch populated by cardboard archetypes, Black Christmas is a sophisticated slow boil filled with characters that aren’t exactly complex, but at least shaded and human. And while Chain Saw remains my favorite with is raw brutality, there is absolutely no doubt whatsoever that Black Christmas is a better made film by such a margin that it puts wide-ruled notebook paper to shame.

Actually focusing on story rather than torturing the audience, Black Christmas is a much more layered film. The tension it creates is built around characters, who are forging a path through a story that is still deviously simple but has quite a bit more drive than TCM’s nonentity. It’s the Range Rover to Hooper’s Prius. There are plenty of unique features of the plot, but two stand out above all else, the first being the film’s genuinely fun sense of humor. It’s not often that a slasher film elicits chuckles on purpose, but Black Christmas does so with aplomb, peppering the door murders with sweet holiday mayhem that makes the transitions between the two even more jarring. I hate to give jokes away, but let’s just say you’ll never look at your pet turtle the same way ever again.

The second key element of the script is that, piggybacking off the already extreme (for the time) nature of the horror material, Black Christmas seizes the opportunity to weave in a very controversial discussion about abortion and how it affected men and women in the 70’s. The film brings with it a stunningly solid sense of female reproductive rights while presenting a chilling parallel to the ironic viciousness of radical pro-Lifers in the unhinged Peter (who stalks around sulking, hair all in a tizzy).

Tell me this guy couldn’t star in a Davy Jones biopic.

But even more than the plot, the film is a masterfully crafted piece of cinema. The cinematography and editing are superb, but the truly striking feature of Black Christmas is its sound design. Eerie nondiegetic tunes and dissonant in-scene sounds overlap and interplay in an exquisitely composed aural tapestry. In my favorite moment, the sound of Peter angrily smashing his recital piano becomes the score for the next scene, providing a crackling current of unhinged fear. There are dozen of innovative, chilling moments like this suing everything from electric generators to repurposed Christmas carols as an integral part of this sonic puzzle.

Partially because of the soundscape, partially because it’s just overall a damn good film, Black Christmas still has the juice to tingle the spine. Though there is some semblance of backstory for the killer stuffed in the cracks, he remains unexplained. Plus, the more we see of his actions, the more we learn that he’s utterly unpredictable, which lends the film an extra frisson of tension because it’s truly impossible to predict what he’s going to do or say next. His kills are filmed with kinetic artistry, so despite their lack of gore (a typical complaint for films of this vintage) they still strike a nerve with their visceral impact and the unsettling juxtaposition of their sheer beauty, especially in a pivotal scene with a glass unicorn-cum-impaling device.

Black Christmas is a nasty, unrelenting film that actively fights the cheery festivity of its set design and soundtrack. The combination of Christmas and bloody murder would be made again and again to varying degrees of success, but never would there be a holiday horror flick so admirably crafted as Black Christmas. The yin to Texas Chain Saw’s loud, rusty yang, Black Christmas is a deranged masterpiece that make me proud I chose to live my life within the slasher genre. After all, there’s no place like home for the holidays.

Body Count: 7
  1. Clare is suffocated with a plastic bag.
  2. Mrs. Mac has a winch hook swung into her face.
  3. Janice is killed offscreen.
  4. Barb is stabbed with a unicorn figurine.
  5. Officer Jennings has his throat slit.
  6. Phyllis is killed offscreen.
  7. Peter is beaten to death with a poker. 
TL:DR: Black Christmas is a chilling, stunning holiday horror classic.
Rating: 9/10
Word Count: 1074
Reviews In This Series
Black Christmas (Clark, 1974)
Black Xmas (Morgan, 2006)