And the Blood Falls Like Rain

God help me, I do love these things.

And every time I think I'm finished, every time I think I've accumulated the most complete and accurate compendium of every possible slumming A to D-lister imaginable, a dozen more of them crop up unexpectedly, like bodies hidden behind closet doors.

So I hope you're not tired of them, because I'm certainly not! And I'm happy to be doing my first entry in this long-running series on a format that isn't Tumblr because that's just torture for this kind of thing.

TEN MORE CELEBRITIES YOU DIDN'T KNOW WERE IN SLASHER MOVIES

Jack Black

Famous for: High Fidelity, School of Rock, Tropic Thunder, Kung Fu Panda

Skeleton in the Closet: I Still Know What You Did Last Summer (1998)

The most astonishing thing about this role (a Caribbean stoner) is that it is possibly the most annoying character he has ever played. You'd think he'd have saved that for a more high profile film. At least his death is cathartic.

Brittany Snow 

Famous for: Pitch Perfect, John Tucker Must Die, Guiding Light

Skeleton in the Closet: Prom Night (2008)

I hold an obscene amount of love for the delightfully off-kilter Prom Night franchise. This is the American reboot of the original 1980 Canadian film starring Jamie Lee Curtis (similar only nominally), and Snow stars as our resident final girl, which is alright with me. Despite its PG-13 blandness, Prom Night is still high up on my list of lovable remakes.

To be fair, the genre of slasher reboots is a desolate wasteland with nary an oasis, so that's not saying much.

Carrie Fisher 

Famous for: The Man with One Red Shoe, The Time Guardian

Skeleton in the Closet: Sorority Row (2009)

Sorority Row is another surprisingly OK reboot, this time of 1983's The House on Sorority Row. Fisher plays the Conveniently Absent for 70% of the Film House Mother.

Bonus: She also plays Magical Exposition Secretary in Scream 3.

David Boreanaz 

Famous for: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Bones, my bedroom wall

Skeleton in the Closet: Valentine (2001)

D'awwwwww... Who's a good little alcoholic serial killer? You are! You are! Good boy...

I've mentioned this film before, because it also stars a pre-Valentine's Day Katherine Heigl. It's fun to imagine somebody switching the DVDs on Netflix by accident.

Linda Blair

Famous for: The Exorcist, your nightmares

Skeleton in the Closet: Hell Night (1981)

1981 was a good year to be a slasher movie and are those seriously her breasts? I feel wrong all over.

Henry Winkler

Famous for: Happy Days, Arrested Development

Skeleton in the Closet: Scream (1996)

Henry Winkler plays the batty Principal Himbry who threatens students with scissors and is all around a pretty cool guy. He also keeps spare suits in a wardrobe in his office, so you know he's on top of things. He might have made school superintendent if it weren't for that pesky Ghostface.

Portia de Rossi
Famous for: Arrested Development, Better Off Ted, marrying Ellen DeGeneres, flawlessness

Skeleton in the Closet: Scream 2 (1997)

EYEBROWS. EYEBROWS. EYEBROWS.

This is actually a common problem throughout de Rossi's career, but most of the time they're less... Well, let's just say this is the scariest scene in the movie.


Patrick Dempsey

Famous for: Grey's Anatomy, Made of Honor, Enchanted

Skeleton in the Closet: Scream 3 (2000)

Dempsey plays the movie-loving Detective Kincaid/potential-killer-but-not-really-because-the-actual-identity-of-the-killer-is-f*cking-weird-and-also-he-has-a-magical-21st-century-voice-box-machine-that-can-make-him-sound-like-Courteney-Cox.

Champion Dialogue:

Sidney: "What's your favorite scary movie?"
Kincaid: "My life."

Michelle Williams

Famous for: Dawson's Creek, My Week With Marilyn, Brokeback Mountain

Skeleton in the Closet: Halloween H20 (1998)

I had no idea who she was when I watched this, and next time I watch it I still won't care because JAMIE LEE CURTIS IS BACK. However, here she is.

Jennifer Aniston 

Famous for: Friends, Office Space, Horrible Bosses

Skeleton in the Closet: Leprechaun (1993)

Most of you probably knew this one, but I'm so proud that Rachel Green got her start in one of the most baffling horror franchises of the day.

Word Count: 669

Beat It, Essay: Back to the Beginning

It occured to me that I have a stash of spectacularly written film essays from my second semester at CSULB and, in an attempt to keep new material going while I'm working on some longer-running topics (as well as during my periodic brief movie watching hiatuses), I could release my essays in case anybody happens to be interested in how I'm doing in school (Hi, mom).

This essay is why I'm here. I included it as part of my application into the film program at CSULB in the "critical essay" portion. It incorporates elements from my original review of Les Misérables, but focuses on more specific (and academic) qualities of the film and omits some of my... non-professional sentences.

Notable omissions: The phrase "You guys, Les Misérables is friggin’ incredible." Also pictures.

I would like to take this moment to state once and for all that my references cited at the end of this work are complete and utter horsesh!t. I made them up. Sorry, mom.

The December 25th release of Les Misérables made for a not so merry Christmas. Popcorn and tears covered theater floors in equal proportions. Les Mis is a film which paints its emotions in broad strokes and isn’t afraid to demand that you feel exactly what it wants you to feel. It is over-the-top, bombastic, and occasionally full of itself. However, while those qualities might kill a normal movie, the normal rules do not apply to this larger than life musical; they only serve to enhance the spectacle that provides the lifeblood of its narrative.

While there are certainly no parts of the plot that can be considered subtle by any definition of the term (The film can’t be blamed for this; the stage musical it is based on as well as the 1862 Victor Hugo protest novel that provides the source material both seek to pummel rather than suggest [Hugo].), the filmmakers deftly scale back the grandiosity, bringing the film a more organic and accessible onscreen quality. The three most important things utilized in maintaining the balance between the spectacle and the humanity of Les Misérables were the technique of recording the vocals live in camera, the cinematography, and the color scheme.

Singing live in camera is something that has never been attempted on such a scale before and it overwhelmingly, undeniably, works. Almost the entirety of the musical is sung-through (there are some 20-odd brief lines of dialogue here and there), and thus the vocal performances are the one factor that holds the most weight in the success of the movie as a whole. This method allows the actors much more freedom to emote and act through song, much more than if they were lip-syncing to a track that had been pre-recorded in a studio, a process which produces some absolutely stellar performances. Anne Hathaway’s I Dreamed a Dream is undeniably the absolute best performance of that song that has ever been sung.

Occasionally vocal polish was traded for emotive quality, but it is a worthy price to pay. Russell Crowe was clearly laboring to sing the notes properly and Eddie Redmayne sounded like Kermit the Frog more often than not, but the former’s portrayal of the upright Inspector Javert humanized a character whose staunch, one-note devotion to the law can sometimes, in the hands of a lesser performer, be utterly inaccessible [Behr]. Likewise, the latter’s performance of Empty Chairs at Empty Tables perfectly reflected the anguish of the entire film and provided the tonal turning point between the battle at the barricades and Valjean’s ascent to the afterlife.

As the actors threw themselves full-tilt into their performances, they achieved an incomparable level of audience immediacy. Such an intense close-up experience of human tragedy enhanced the grand emotive measures of the film, underscored greatly by the cinematography. Director Tom Hooper was limited in a sense by the decision to use live performances, because, to capture the entirety of a song or a line, the performer had to be in the shot the whole time, and cutting between shots was a near impossibility.

To counteract this limitation, he compensated with handheld camera shots and extreme close-ups, both of which did their part in bringing the spectacle of Les Mis to the level of the cinema audience. The handheld shots allowed the performers free reign over their movements and their improvisations led the camera’s movements, rather than the other way around. The close-up shots worked in tandem with the handheld, keeping us in tight focus on the human face of tragedy [Mercado], instead of soaring with the songs and taking us farther away. This works for the same reason that Anne Hathaway’s I Dreamed a Dream was so superb. Instead of being merely a beautiful moment in a musical, it feels like an authentic moment in a real person’s struggles.

The need to scale down can be reflected in the enormity of the film’s themes, represented in the tagline: “Fight. Dream. Hope. Love.” However big, these themes are still central to the narrative and are heavily reflected in the color scheme. The overall design of the film is drab and grey, reflecting the poverty and struggles of daily life in 19^th century France. The only times bright colors are used are when the central themes are present, because they all exemplify a way to escape from the grey world of reality.

The Fight at the barricades is marked by the vivid reds and blues of the French uniforms and the flags of the rebels as well as the deep, oaky earth tones of the barricade. Fantine’s Dream is represented by her pink outfit – contrasting with the washed out blue of the other factory workers – and her daughter Cosette’s Dream is reflected in the vivid hues of the doll shop at which she wistfully gazes across the avenue. The most color in the entire film – glowing oranges and yellows, elegant silvers and golds - can be found in churches, the strongholds of Hope. The Love that fuels the second half of the movie is likewise heavily featured in the purple and silver buds in the garden where Cosette and Marius meet in secret, as well as the deep emerald of forlorn Éponine’s dress.

Les Misérables is an ensemble musical and no single part could function without the others. The tableau provided by the vocals, the camera work, and the color scheme functions in the same way. Each part is essential and it all works together to create a spectacular, yet singularly human narrative.

Works Cited

Behr, Edward. The Complete Book of Les Misérables. Little Brown & Co, 1990.

Hugo, Victor. Les Misérables. A. Lacroix, Verboeckhoven & Cie., 1862.

Mercado, Gustavo. The Filmmaker's Eye: Learning (and Breaking) the Rules of Cinematic Composition. Focal Press, 2010.
Word Count: 1147

The First to Rise Shall Be the First to Die

Year: 2013
Director: Adam Wingard
Cast: Sharni Vinson, Nicholas Tucci, AJ Bowen
Run Time: 1 hour 36 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

First, some bragging: This film is due to come out in wide release on August 23rd, but luckily I have a Sergio who got us tickets to see it at the LA Film Festival at LA Live. It was an incredible experience. Also, we saw Sugar Ray Leonard there, which I'm told is a big deal. 

You may recall this post in which I lamented the apparent lack of creativity in the horror field today, citing You're Next as another example of by-the-numbers post-Strangers home invasion thrillers. And for the first fifteen minutes or so, that's exactly what it was, although with more of a slasher tinge than most.

The opening scene features an age old slasher standby - the Opening Scene Couple. There wasn't much to say about it except the girl one had boobs hanging out of her shirt and actually gave a surprisingly nuanced performance for a throwaway character with no lines. This scene plays out exactly as we expect it to, and the scares are telegraphed long ahead of time.

That's all well and fine, if not particularly inspired, and it is with somewhat diminished expectations that we join our hosts for the evening, Paul (Rob Moran) and Aubrey Davison (Barbara Crampton), a couple who are celebrating their 35th anniversary tomorrow in their vacation home in Middle of Nowhere, USA. Moran and Crampton are easily the two weakest links in this ensemble cast and their stilted dialogue exchanges remind one of every poorly made shocker from the last 20 years, which is perhaps the point but I'm not willing to give the filmmakers too much credit on that one. I give them far too much credit later for it to really matter in the long run, anyway.

Their children arrive one by one (significant others in tow) to celebrate and, although the next paragraph is somewhat of an exposition dump, the film achieves it in such a way that we can actually keep track of their names and the basic relationships between each character without too much trouble. This is filmmaking at its simplest, but something a lot of horror directors never seem to manage to do well with such big casts.

First to arrive are middle brother Crispin (AJ Bowen) and his Australian girlfriend/former student, Erin (Sharni Vinson). Then comes the eldest son, Drake (Joe Swanberg) and his wife Kelly (Sarah Myers - no, that stage name is not lost on me). Drake seems to enjoy tormenting Crispin, amusing the others, but Crispin is having none of it. Then all at once their daughter Aimee (Amy Seimetz) arrives, toting her hipster filmmaker boyfriend Tariq (Ti West - an actual hipster filmmaker who gamely embraces self parody), little brother Felix (Nicholas Tucci), and his edgy alternative (read: annoying) girlfriend, Zee (Wendy Glenn). With the pieces in place, the game can begin. And so it does, when during a tension-filled dinner party, the diners are attacked by a masked crossbow archer through the dining room windows. 

He'll huff and he'll puff and he'll penetrate your brain cavity.

And here is where the film begins in earnest. The filmmakers have already proved they can choreograph a decent jump scare, but that's worth nothing nowadays. That's all modern horror has left. But with this scene begins the first of many in which the driving, heart-pounding fear actually comes from the situation instead of the things that go boo in front of the camera. Tension! In a horror film! What is this, the 70's?

And then the glory. After the filmmakers draw back their gums and reveal their fangs, the bombshell drops. This movie is a horror comedy. A good one, at that! The balance of funny and scary is a notoriously razor thin edge, and to date only a handful of movies have successfully achieved it (Evil Dead II, we're looking at you). You're Next honestly is one of the most flawless attempts at the genre. Think a less overtly meta Scream. 

And thus is the beauty of the film. It relentlessly juggles being terrifying, hilarious, a home invasion thriller, and a wicked slasher film, never dropping a ball. It's obvious the filmmakers loved the horror films of their childhood and wanted to make one of their own. This home invasion thriller owes just as much to Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street as to The Strangers and the multitude of visual nods and subtle references are smoothly integrated into the film, not detracting one bit from the unique story it is trying to tell. A movie made with that kind of love and attention is a treasure to watch no matter how good it is. Luckily, this one is pretty darn good.

This picture contains many things I like. Those cabinets are incredible.

As things go from bad to worse, Erin quickly proves herself a game challenger. She will stop at nothing to protect this family, whose members are too busy squabbling and crying to be much help. After watching so many horror films where the dumb girl goes to investigate that strange noise, draped in her bedsheet, it is so refreshing to see a girl who actually follows the advice we shout at the screen. Because of this, we can forgive her of her few horror movie mistakes. She's only human.

And there's the zinger. Although some of the minor characters can be pretty one dimensional, the core cast is a totally relatable, believable group, thanks either to the writing, the performances, or both. The movie can (and frequently does) descend into a wildly fun horror romp, but it rarely forgets that its characters are actual human beings.

I'm tiptoing around the plot, because I really don't want to ruin anybody's experience with this film, but I will add that the later sequences are alarmingly well staged, the editing keeps us grounded in the reality of the location, and the cast and crew are clearly having a lot of fun.

While this film might never join the widely beloved horror pantheon of Freddy, Michael, and Jason, it is certain to be a fixture on Top 10 Horror Lists of 2013 (mine as well), and maybe even of the decade.

UPDATE: Looking through my notes, I realize I forgot something. Shaky cam is a thing, but it goes away as the movie progresses. I like to imagine it's because the movie starts off shaky, but then finds its footing and kicks butt.

UPDATE #2: According to IMDb and everyone else, Crispin's name is spelled "Crispian," but I reject that on the grounds that it's stupid.

TL;DR: Hilariously bloody and bloody hilarious, You're Next walks the tightrope between horror and comedy with ease.
Rating: 10/10
Should I spend money on this? This movie has been bouncing around in Lionsgate's back drawer since 2011 and it deserves as much love as you can afford. I know I'm going to see it again once it comes into wide release.
Word Count: 1183

Life After Ke$ha

This is how I spent my night last night. Going in, Cassidy and I were buzzing with excitement over Ke$ha and general warmth toward Pitbull as an acceptable presence we'd have to sit through to observe the Queen.

Cassidy: "I tried to tease my hair this morning, but I got too excited and had to sit down."

I almost decided not to say anything because I'm not really a concert reviewer but then again I'm not an actual movie reviewer, so I decided to go for it. And the night was too unforgettable (for better and for worse) not to say something.

Ke$ha

After the briefest of brief opening acts (a dance crew that morphed into an awful techno band with dancing halfway through but only lasted about 8 minutes), the screens darkened, Ke$ha's voice came on the speakers, and we were abruptly thrust into a psychedelic wonderland of animals and warriors.

We honestly had no idea Ke$ha wasn't the final act of the night (or maybe we were hoping) so we were taken mightily by surprise and hadn't had sufficient time to emotionally prepare ourselves. I don't ever do this, but there were tears in my eyes. Ke$ha is an icon of fun, love, and bravery. She's not afraid to be a pop musician. She embraces it wholeheartedly and uses it to spread her message of love, acceptance, and tolerance.

"Can't we all just fucking love each other?"

I wouldn't dare censor Ke$ha, though I do censor myself. 

The show was an hour long cavalcade of drums, guitars, costume changes, inflatable whales, giant legs sticking up from the stage, a pink hippo, eyeballs, and jungle gyms.

She sang an unreleased song (Machine Gun Love) and commanded us to record it on our phones. She told us a story about getting naked at a queer bar. She used a tap dance production number to introduce Blah Blah Blah. She wore a chastity belt and used a buzz saw on her crotch, shooting sparks across the stage.

Yes, Ke$ha is a pop princess, but she's also a rock 'n roll queen. Her songs were recreated on electric guitar (Blow was nearly unrecognizable and hardcore), she ditched the autotune (out of necessity, one would suppose, but she can handle herself), and even grabbed a guitar sometimes herself. There were dance breaks, Ke$ha drum solos, and dirtified lyrics (Blow - "Tonight, we're taking names / cuz we don't fuck around." Gold Trans Am - "Get in my.... vagina").

"The first time I was ever at the Hollywood Bowl, I was a little kid sitting in a guitar case as my mom played onstage. The second time, I was with a guy named Harold and we snuck in to see the Rolling Stones. The third time, I had eaten too many mushrooms and was kicked out because I took off my pants. I'm so excited to be here tonight, I have so many weird and wonderful memories here."

Ke$ha is the dance commander + she commands you to dance.

I want to rate this show a perfect 10 like the good little fanboy I am, but two things are holding me back. One, Pitbull unfairly ate her set time (more on that later), and the performance felt truncated. I'd rather see her on her own headlining tour, though it was an honor to see her at all.

Two, there was a palpable tension between Ke$ha and her touring partner. She did not mention Pitbull's name a single time in her set and he only mentioned her offhandedly as an opening act. They never once appeared onstage together. Her obvious distaste at being paired with him (whoever made that decision is hopefully working at a Dairy Queen now) and the impassivity of the Pitbull fans in the audience led to a devil-may-care attitude that actually worked within her show, but there was something decidedly uncomfortable about the whole thing.

8/10

Pitbull

I really don't know what to do about this one. Before Pitbull came on, I told Cassidy. "Let's be nice. The Pitbull fans were buzzkills who took the fun out of our show, let's at least be courteous and not do the same to them." Plus, I even like a lot of his songs, although I've never considered him a good writer. I enjoy his raps for their absurdity and view them kind of like my beloved 80's slasher movies. Not good in any way, but they try so hard to please you that you like them anyway.

We survived about half an hour into his 80 minute set before sitting down in indignation. A Top 40 enthusiast might note how Pitbull is what amounts to the featured rapper on most of the songs he performs, even the ones on his own albums. Oh, he'd do his rap part alright. It was there. But he played full recordings of the other artists singing the rest of the song. And he didn't sing along. He didn't freestyle underneath. He just stood there and pelvic thrusted. And when he wanted to mix it up, he'd swivel his hips.

And then he started playing songs that weren't even his. And again. He wasn't covering them. He wasn't freestyling. He wasn't adding anything to the songs, he was just playing recordings to fill the 80 minutes he stole from Ke$ha. While pelvic thrusting.

A brief list of songs Pitbull requisitioned as part of his act:

Feel So Close, Calvin Harris

Hello, Martin Solveig ft. Dragonette

Sweet Child O' Mine, Guns N' Roses

We No Speak Americano, Yolanda Be Cool & DCUP

Barba Streisand, Duck Sauce

(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (to Party!), Beastie Boys

Crazy Train, Ozzy Osbourne

I Gotta Feeling, Black Eyed Peas

Loca People, Ska Noel

Eye of the Tiger, Survivor

I Love It, Icona Pop

I swear there was a period of ten minutes where he didn't even rap at all. A solid 25% of the show was this BS right here.

Good job, Pitbull. You got people to pay $80 for this. Now take off those freaking sunglasses.

I know Cassidy and I swore not to be buzzkills, but it was beyond boring and we had parked in the stacked parking so we were held captive until the end of the show with nothing to do but sit back and think about how terrible his lyrics really are. They're survivable on the radio, but when you're tied down, ears open Clockwork Orange style, they're pretty unbearable. I don't trust my night in the hands of somebody who thinks that Tonka trucks and Holiday Inns make for compelling songwriting.

I mean, I'm not exactly defending some of Ke$ha's lyrics, but her songs are at heart a knife edge satire. Pitbull believes 100% in what he's saying. 

"I'm a genius / I mean brilliance" - Feel This Moment

At two separate points, he just stood there shouting out a list of countries. In between songs, he'd spout his incoherent pseudo philosophy about turning negatives into positives (obviously something he'd thought up long ago and found it so brilliant he just kept going with it) and at one point told us:

"Forget about all the negative sh!t of 2013 and move on to the positive of 2014!"

In June. I think he mixed up his script with the New Year's Eve show.

You wanna know the worst part? His fans lost their freaking minds. They went CRAZY.

Now, I don't think it's fair to judge people on the music they like. I don't hate, dislike, or even mildly judge anybody for being a Pitbull fan. I'm not one myself, but I can see the appeal. And clearly I'm in the minority for thinking his show was insipid pabulum. I'll just have to accept that his popularity is one more entry on a list of inexplicable things that I may never understand about the world.

I can't find any other pictures that don't look exactly like this one.

While Ke$ha reminded me of driving on the highway with the top down, Pitbull reminded me of sitting in the corner at prom.

Ke$ha sang about sexual liberation and freedom to be yourself. Pitbull wants you to take you to a hotel room and crack open your treasure chest.

Ke$ha wants us to love each other. Pitbull wants us to love him.

Ke$ha: I love it here in LA. I've lived here a lot of my life, I have a lot of memories here and I love the people. Thank you so much for coming and supporting me.

Pitbull: Los Angeles, you are my target market!

OK, a break from the invective. There were enjoyable parts of the show. Unfortunately, they were the parts where Pitbull wasn't actually doing much. See, the Los Angeles show was a special night, and sometimes Pitbull turned off the recordings and brought out a special guest.

Marc Anthony came to sing his hit collaboration with Pitbull.

Jennifer Lopez performed and yes, she has abs of steel.

Enrique Iglesias sang "I Like It."

Chris Brown was also there, but I'm not gonna comment on that.

The final song of the night, "Give Me Everything," was a avalanche of stagecraft, with smoke pouring from every direction, confetti cannons, a laser show, and a full firework pyrotechnic display. You couldn't even see Pitbull through the haze. It was my favorite part of the night.

"Thank you to my band and my guests, without them there's no Pitbull."

There's hardly a Pitbull as it is.

Cassidy (à la Gretchen Wieners): "Ke$ha is just as pretty as Pitbull. Ke$ha is just as smart as Pitbull. We should totally just stab Pitbull!"

2/10

Also, somebody wearing glitter was assaulted in the parking lot on the way out. I'm just saying that would never happen at a Ke$ha concert.
Word Count: 1656

Who Could Write on a Day Like This?

It's hard to focus today, because in less than 12 hours I will be at the Hollywood Bowl with the Angel Cassidy trying not to faint so I can watch Ke$ha perform in all her glittery fabulousness. Also some rapper will be there.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

So in honor of the day (I'm prone to inventing holidays. Life's a party.), I leave you with this.

The 5 Best Unreleased Ke$ha Songs

1. Best Friend's Boyfriend

I never said these songs were good, per se. But this is one of my favorite songs to shout along to in the car. It's just so full of the young energy and trashy fun that made Ke$ha a star. Also I love those two synth blasts in the middle of the chorus.

2. Goodbye

Ke$ha can sing! Ke$ha can sing country! Although she has definitely less need to prove her talents at both vocal work and songwriting now that we have access to her sophomore album, Warrior, this song is Ke$ha in tip top artistic (and moody) shape.

3. Bad Dream

This is one of those songs that didn't get cut because it was bad, but merely because it didn't fit in with the image they were going for. Most of Ke$ha's out of character songs ended up going to other artists (including Britney Spears' Till the World Ends), but unfortunately this one wasn't picked up.

4. Feels Like Rain

Proving once and for all that Ke$ha can Natasha Bedingfield better than NB herself. *mike drop*

5. Boy Like You

Again, this one isn't actually super good, but it's just so Ke$ha. This one was actually later recorded by Austrian pop artist Charlee, but was never released in the US.

BONUS: True Love, Katy Perry feat. Ke$ha

Katy Perry and Ke$ha are actually friends, and Ke$ha is featured in her video for I Kissed a Girl. Whoever decided to pull this glitzy confection of collaboration should be fired. Until the problem is rectified, we have to survive on this underproduced but still fab version.
Word Count: 349

Penultimate Destination

Year: 2009
Director: David R. Ellis
Cast: Bobby Campo, Nick Zano, Krista Allen
Run Time: 1 hour 22 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

As part of a continuing sibling bonding series with my super cool sister, late last night we watched the fourth entry in what is easily the most high concept and low class slasher franchise there is.

This is a film that is so hard up for audience that it has to pretend that it's something else. "The" Final Destination. I've said it before and I'll say it again: your franchise has really gone down the tubes when you stop numbering them.

In this case however, the title (accidentally) conveys additional meaning about the nature of the film. This film is so poorly made and so divorced from the rest of the series that it acts as somewhat of a palate cleanser preparing one for the rigors of Final Destination 5 (the only FD movie to receive a fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes).

Director David R. Ellis returns to helm his second entry in the series (after Final Destination 2, which was actually quite good), and whatever creative spark he once had has obviously long been stamped out. The director's workmanlike attitude behind the camera betrays his years of experience as a stuntman.

The rest of the movie doesn't feel much better. The dialogue sounds more like a spec script that the writers pumped full of cliches to frame the story thinking "we'll fill that in with actual human-sounding dialogue later" and then eventually having it slip their minds. The gore wouldn't feel out of place in a SyFy original movie, and the actors' characterizations are as inert as their inevitably lifeless corpses.

I doubt that I can find room in my heart to call this a "redeeming quality," but there's one part where the filmmakers didn't skimp. The Final Destination gets a lot of mileage out of being unashamedly devoted to showing naked flesh. Especially common is shirtless men, which is rather unusual for a slasher movie (which these films like to pretend they aren't but it's an inescapable part of their DNA).

There seems to be little regard paid to the actual demographics of the film (teen boys who want to see blood and guts and boobs and butts). Although there is a lengthy topless sex scene full of mammaries bouncing all over the place, the film would much rather lovingly stroke the sculpted abs of its male characters, even while they're in the process of getting their insides sucked out by a pool filter.

Side note: Watching this movie in 2010 is 100% responsible for my love of baseball shirts.

Just to drive the point in (and amuse myself), I'm going to scatter shirtless shots throughout the rest of this article to *ahem* exemplify how they are utilized in the film.

Fun Fact: This film was the first Final Destination film to actually be shot in the US (the rest were filmed in Canada). Perhaps this is why the rest of the film feels so overwhelmingly low budget. I've already mentioned the embarrassing gore effects, which are clearly some sort of Walmart brand CGI, but there's also the matter of casting.

Most FD films have some at least marginally famous actor hiding in the wings: An Ali Larter, a Seann William Scott, a Tony Todd. Heck, Devon Sawa was famous for like 45 seconds in the 90's. This movie features not a single person you've seen in any other film in your life, I guarantee it. In that way, it is reminiscent of some of the worst of the worst slasher movies of the 80's, full of nameless actors buried away by time. However, this is 2009. A brief moment of silence for the fizzling careers of these poor young men and women.

Oh no, it seems like I've forgotten to recap the plot at all. Let me rectify that: Race track. Moving on.

Mmmmm, race track.

I've been pretty harsh on this film, but there is some charm buried underneath the crust of bird droppings and dried blood. One scene in particular stands out that plays with our expectations based on years of watching these films. A woman in a beauty parlor is surrounded by a truly astounding array of broken machinery, slippery puddles, shoddy wiring, and the like. It seems like death is setting up an absurdly complex Rube Goldberg death trap, but after a few false alarms, the death is actually quite simple and abrupt. This isn't exactly groundbreaking, but it is the one time that the film feels playful and alive.

Another fun thing about the movie is that you can play the Heavyhanded Symbolism Game. I prefer the point-and-shout method, but it can be made into a drinking game if one is so inclined. Look for references to:

• The number 180 (the flight number from the original movie)
• McKinley (the high school/town from FD3)
• Clear Rivers (Ali Larter's character from the first two films)
• Lucky charms being instrumental in death
• Any reference to death, the devil, or fate (Destiny Towing, Salon Dante, race car 666, the coffee shop "Death by Caffeine.")

This is where the movie feels most at home in its franchise, as all these movies are chock full of foreshadowing and callbacks, kind of like an episode of Arrested Development except with less wit and more intestines.

Unfortunately, this film is so eager to hearken back to the old days that it forgets about the present. Side characters are lovingly given one character trait and no name (credits titles include "Mechanic," "Racist," "Racist's Wife," and, my personal favorite, "MILF."), and the film is egregiously short. In an already truncated 82 minute running time, a good six minutes of that are dedicated to the credits.

It's a surprise that a sequel ever got made for this heap of garbage, but if these are the dues we must pay to get a Final Destination film that 61% of critics actually liked, I will gladly pay them.

Body Count: 11 (The most of any film in the series, but it feels like much much less)
TL;DR: The film is cheap, tawdry, and goreless. It also lacks a sense of fun and acts more like a moving walkway by which you can access the next film in the franchise.
Rating: 4/10
Should I spend money on this DVD? There is a movie pack available of the first four FD films, which is totally worth it. But there is a special circle of Hell designated for individuals who bought this DVD standalone.
Word Count: 1101

Reviews In This Series

The Final Destination (Ellis, 2009)

Final Destination 5 (Quale, 2011)