Saturday, January 23, 2010

Mumble in the Karl Jungle


As much as I hate adding “core” to any verb or adjective in order to describe an art movement, director Andrew Bujalski’s self-coined mumblecore is aptly fitting. Considering I finished the movie less than thirty minutes ago, along with having no other mumbling core tastes on my palate, I can’t decide whether it’s a refreshing and creative technique, or a pompous grasp for recognition. Either way, Funny Ha Ha contains some if not the most realistic dialogue I have ever heard. Unlike most screenplays, this movie throws aside the cardinal cinematic rule of excluding “I don’t knows”, “I means”, “You knows”, and “likes.” Characters will literally mumble, searching for words as they try to express something meaningful when the situation is painstakingly cumbersome.

For instance, in a great scene between leading actress Marnie, after she discovers her best friend Alex has gotten married days after her feelings towards him are revealed, the two talk outside of her apartment. Considering most of the dialogue overlaps, I did my best to type it out:

Marnie: I should probably get back to bed

Alex: Don’t do that, I mean

Marnie: I mean…

(Pause)

Marnie: What’s…

Alex: Well, I don’t know, everything’s just complicated

(Pause)

Marnie: I’m sure it is

Alex: Surprisingly

Marnie: Yeah

Alex: Yeah

Marnie: I mean, I mean, anything like that is complicated


While in any reader’s eye this dialogue would be aimless and redundant, the scene captures the essence of confused emotions minus the Hollywood sugarcoating. Without a doubt, this movie will reveal how fake “real” dialogue is; it overlaps, improvisation is abundant, and pauses arise at apparently spontaneous though perfectly positioned moments.

Funny Ha Ha does not play as a movie but rather as a documentary film. Yet the interactions between the characters are so realistic that there’s no other direction to point rather than Bujalski's brilliant writing and exceptional preparation.

Unfortunately, I think that while this movie is good, its only because nothing like it has been produced before (as of late). Like a perfect equation, the combination of low-production quality, terrible sound and sub-par acting compliment the naturalist dialogue and force it out of its immediate pomposity and into a snapshot of sensible romantic frustration.

Nonetheless, the use of non-actors in exceptionally prepared roles provides endless moments of youthful love and friendship that any viewer can relate to. This movie shows that real life rarely contains glorious moments of endearing and well-planned speeches. Often the “I don’t knows”, “I means” and pauses say just enough.

NOTE: In the behind the scenes documentary of David Mamet’s Homicide, Joe Montegna says that people often come up to him and rave about how “real” Mamet’s dialogue is, when actually its extremely structured and full of rhythm. If you want to understand how fake “good” dialogue is (i.e. Tarantino, P.T. Anderson, Woody Allen), watch this movie and tell me you don't want to try it.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Scary Movie Month Ranking 2009

SMM09' has concluded, and it was the best year yet!

4/4 Slashes

  1. Trick ‘r Treat
  2. Altered States
  3. Black Sabbath

3.5/4

  1. Dead Alive
  2. Black Sunday
  3. The Burning

3/4

  1. The Changeling
  2. Amityville Horror
  3. Time of the Wolf
  4. Repulsion
  5. It’s Alive
  6. Let’s Scare Jessica to Death
  7. The Crazies
  8. Intruder

2.5/4

  1. Eyes Without a Face
  2. The Tenant

1/4

  1. Night of the Demons
  2. Tombs of the Blind Dead

.5/4

  1. Wizard of Gore
  2. I Spit on Your Grave
  3. Masters of Horror: Cigarette Burns

AVERAGE RATING for 2009 – 3/4


Friday, October 30, 2009

The Burning: NOT Your Run of the Mill Sister, Sister Slashhh(er film)

Coincidentally, The Burning was released one day short of what would be the one-year anniversary of Friday the 13th. At first, it seems like a nearly complete rip off the Jason franchise; a masked killer attacking a children’s camp. Yet while Friday the 13th’s story involves a mother avenging the death of her child who was neglected by the counselors’ sexual escapades, The Burning contains a story more along the lines of Scream/Urban Legend/I Know What You Did Last Summer. The custodian of the camp, who supposedly is an abusive alcoholic custodian, is accidentally set on fire during a prank gone wrong and after five years of recovery, returns to the camp for revenge.

First off, compared to the handful of notorious Slasher films – Halloween I and II, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and Scream - I think Friday the 13th is pretty terrible. The dialogue and acting is torture to the senses and the theme of irresponsible teenage hormonal overdrive is obnoxiously explicit.

In fact, in the behind the scenes documentary of The Burning, I learned that Tom Savinni considers all of the subsequent Friday the 13th’s after the 1981 version to not be “real” additions since Jason was legitimately killed within the first few minutes of the original film. I agree in some ways, but considering the grasp of the series and what it became - with a remake that ignores the drowning of young Jason altogether - I’d say the first movie of the series doesn’t belong to the rest. There are ELEVEN movies that contain Jason, ten of which contain the infamous mask. So while I’d like to agree with Tom Savinni, I feel he has it backwards. When a remake is better than the original – as the ’09 release was – it proves how comparably bad the original was.

And where Friday the 13th got it wrong, The Burning got it right. First off, the cast is superb, featuring the sickly scrawny Fisher Stevens and hilarious Jason Alexander. These two individuals are part of a five-person group with such a great and realistic dynamic that when the first one of them is murdered, it almost drew a tear. Likewise, the group of girls also have a phenomenal relationship. Unlike Friday the 13th, The Burning doesn’t revolve around the horniness of teenagers in the woods, but rather the friendships between the campers (and their complimentary horniness in the woods). Like most horror films, it has a great amount of exposition that hooks the viewer into empathizing with the characters rather than immediately killing them off.

I’d even say that other than Scream, The Burning best captures teenage personalities, romance and sex better than any other slasher movie. In fact, even if there was no vengeful killer looking in the woods, I think this would have made a great coming of age/summer of love story.

Also, contrary to most Slasher film conventions, approximately half of the group survives in the end. For instance, after the canoes have gone missing, both girls and boys board a homemade raft, and they equally get butchered for doing so. There is no reason some of the people board the raft and others don’t, it is not about who is tough or scared or courageous; it is meaningless. And just when the film seems directed toward establishing a message through revering Aflred (a nerdy kid who is constantly made fun of) as he is about to apparently destroy the killer, the lead counselor, Todd, steps in and lends assistance.

This is not a film about a virgin female who will be the sole survivor in the end. If anything, it is completely absurdist; there is no psychological subtext regarding feminist values or sexual repression, there is no formula as to why some survive and others do not.

The only message to be analyzed is the choice of using a summer camp; a location of vast popularity during early 80s horror. But, this is another blog that I’ll probably never write. Or at least until Scary Movie Month '10.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Stupid and Pretentious

I’ve seen Joy Ride at least a dozen times since it first came out in 2001, however, I don’t recall this vacuous bit of trivia added to imdb last time I checked. Considering imdb trivia is usually added by members, I can't stop wondering kind of person would add this ridiculously subjective observation..

“During the course of the movie, watch the LED signal strength indicator lights on the brothers' CB radio. The first four indicator lights change colors in nearly every scene, including bright green, dark green, yellow, red, and crimson. This is obviously intentional and not a series of continuity errors.”

First off, this is completely untrue as the photos show...

1. First Contact with Rusty Nail (~11:00)








2. The Hotel (~17:00)







3. “You should really get that fixed…Your taillight.” (~32:00)







4. Apologize as Car is Crushed (~45:00)








5. Look…in…the…trunk…Lewis (~1:00:00)







6. Corn Scene (~1:15:00)








Yeah, um...I don't see the first four colors changing from anything but yellow.

Now, even if this were true, what is the point of submitting this bit of trivia? After all, even if this person was correct, is there ANY visual theme, image or motif that is NOT intentional? We can look at the close-up of the CB radio as being no different than a close-up of a face; emphasizing the importance in both detail and attention. Like the mask motif in slasher films, the CB Radio is acting as a mask but through taking on a different form. For instance, while we see the white mask of Michael Meyers who's the killer, we hear/see the CB radio of Rusty Nail who's also the killer.

And if a director is going to use one of the most significant and important aesthetic film techniques – the close up – would there EVER be a case where a noticeable visual change is not intentional? I’m not talking about obscure ultra low-budget movies where the amateur production values can lead to strong continuity errors. I’m discussing professionally directed and produced films. Whoever made this comment might as well go through the work of all great film auteurs, stating that their choice toward changing visuals is definitely "intentional.” But maybe not, because as the photos demonstrate he was completely wrong in the first place.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Philmosophical Revolution






Scary Movie Month 2009 has officially begun and is off to a great start. I just finished Midnight Movie, a film I wouldn't have watched if not for finding it for $1 at a garage sale while visiting my Aunt’s cottage in rural Indiana. It’s a low-budget winner of the 2008 Chicago Horror Film Festival, which starts out pretty great and then, come the third act, falls into shit.

The movie got me thinking about this Digital Revolution we’re in. George Lucas declared it would change the face cinema; the Blockbuster Bubble would break, and on account of easier and cheaper productions, viewers would begin to demand more independent, and therefore personal films.

Well, this day has come and passed, and it’s when I think of American Movie that I finally understand why. I cannot imagine having to deal with film and analog editing systems while making my first short film. Having to deal with high development costs, lighting, delayed dailies and analog editing systems seem like few of the many obstacles that would filter my passion and drive towards achieving my final product. In the end, after all of incredibly laborious work, I believe I’d always ask myself, “Was it worth it for this?” Thinking about my first short film, although I knew quite a bit on how to organize scenes and let the story flow, it was only when I was done with the project that I realized how terrible I was at writing, condensing story and visualizing the editing. I know that my next film will be better, but I also realize the inevitable consequence of hating it upon completion. After all, if a person isn’t hating their project when its done, I imagine they probably aren’t learning too much as a filmmaker.

However, its only through making more films that a person can get better, and the idea of having to go through such a horrendously laborious process back in the day of analog systems and film is enough to make me conclude that the end result would rarely be worth the labor, and that the high costs and large doubts of the next project would quickly force me into throwing in the towel. Mark Borchardt spends thousands of dollars on Coven and although I haven’t seen it, I’ve been told it's pretty bad. How could anyone continually spend extravagant amounts of money only to be disappointed in the end? It's when I think about this that I realize the pioneers of the independent FILM movement of the 70s, 80s and 90s are the true cinematic heroes; whether they made it or not, they gambled far more than any of us ever will.

This brings me to the conclusion that just because more people can make movies doesn’t mean that there will more great movies. Look at the Number One slots at the box office, easily reserved for the most high tech or visually pleasing texts (though Zombieland’s current position is impressive). All the digital revolution did was make it easier to enact highly stylized modes of storytelling. Remember the steady cam shot in Goodfellas being the be all, end of all of steady cam shots? Not anymore, since Children of Men took this method the very extreme of perfection. The same goes for special effects; nowadays, there are absolutely no limits to the imagination. Its as if we’ve reached a point of trying to replace substance with style.

Strange enough, this is in direct accordance with our present culture. In this age of instant gratification, when no one can save a dime and everyone wants everything immediately, the world of entertainment maintains the same principles. Think of youtube; commonly if a video is longer than two or three minutes people will avoid watching it. In terms of children’s books, there are now super-short stories less than ten pages long. Reality shows allow us to avoid the bore of day to day life and witness the interesting portions.

All the digital revolution achieved was catering to the arenas in which its quickness and durability would benefit audiences. Thus, reality shows, youtube, and porn have all adopted the technologies successfully while George Lucas’s prediction of a new generation of independent filmmakers has failed.

The problem is that while a thousand people might be able to get their project completed, there are still only a handful of people who can actually tell stories. Just as literature could not rely upon laptops and the Internet in order to discover new voices, we cannot foolishly believe that better technologies necessitate better stories.

Whether spending thousands of dollars and countless years on a project, or minimal money and days on a project, it all comes down to the story, and if it’s terrible from its inception, it will be terrible upon completion. While Mark Borchardt had enough determination and drive for thirty moviemakers, his movie simply could not deliver through its inadequate and contrived story. Midnight Movie and other low-budget movies should be an inspiration to us all. If this terrible horror film can get financed, then maybe, in order to achieve develop a voice, we should all forget HOW we’re going to shoot our stories and focus on WHAT we’re going to be shooting.



The film revolution will never come from technology, but from an era in which our studies expand beyond the walls of film school. In the last hundred years film has undergone an immense change, from suggestive sex to oral sex, from no blood to fetishized violence. I have full faith that if people watch enough films they will see and absorb the proper way to make a film; there is no need to teach the 180 rule, parallel editing or the three-act structure when these rules could be learned through an individuals passion for watching films. What is needed is a change to the story itself, a way in which to deepen what has thus far been told countless times before. STORIES have only changed due to the modern technologies which have allowed STYLE to change. It's through the meticulous visual austerity of Kubrick, Scrosese, Hitchcock, Cuaron and numerous other directors, along with watered down censorship, that stories are reaching the peak of HOW they can be told. What is needed now is a focus upon WHAT is being told; thorough examinations of philosophical, scientific and psychological ideas in order to provide expert commentary on new and revolutionary stories. Instead of film aficionados pretentiously calling out stolen shots, they will begin calling out stolen ideas, themes and characters. If scholars are going to seriously analyze film in terms of feminist, sociological, psychological and philosophical ideas, then filmmakers should approach and include these topics with an equal degree of seriousness.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Less Starbucks in Seattle

Alienation in a digital age, questions of morality and suicide, and in depth examinations of fate and compatibility; Sleepless in Seattle is a film vastly ahead of its time and quite possibly one of the greatest films of the 1990s.

Looking back ten years ago, it was easy to understand the literal message of You’ve Got Mail. Could fate pierce itself into the fabric of cyberspace? If you can’t remember the story, Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks meet in a mysterious chatroom, begin emailing each other, his corporation kills her small business and then they fall in love. Although the structure is immensely contrived and uninspired, it's reliance on the internet is an interesting plot point.

Rewind five years to Sleepless in Seattle, a film far predating the days of AOL and spam filled mailboxes. Although not immediately apparent, it is clear that this movie also would have failed if not for its reliance upon the Internet. As will be discussed shortly, Annie (Meg Ryan) depends on the Internet in order to tread deeper into enacting her fantasy of Sam Baldwin (Tom Hanks). Even further, the film takes two different ages of technology – radio and the Internet – to comment on our cultures growing reliance upon this technology. It is only through the naïve mind of a child, Jonah, who upon listening to the radio, understands the benefits of technology (via radio psychologist Dr. Martha Fieldstone) and pushes his father into portraying the benefits of our digital age.

However, it is when we discover Annie listening to the radio that we gain our first glimpse into the world Annie and Sam inhabit. Annie and Walter (Bill Pulmann) drive separately. Although one can assume that this is commenting on a post-feminist age, where a justifiable tension has been created between men and women; a refusal on Annie's part to be the expected passenger than driver. I will not elaborate on this possibility, but regardless of the interpretation, these two individuals are separated not just physically, but emotionally. We continually ask why this couple thinks their relationship should be solidified in marriage. Whatever the reason, Annie's estrangement from Walter forces her to drive and find comfort in the radio rather than her fiance.

Near immediately, Annie becomes absorbed into the story of Sam Baldwin. And, as indicated by Annie’s pit stop at the diner and the following day at the office, there was a ridiculously large audience for the radio program. This would mean that countless individuals were alone on Christmas, and rather than watching televison, they listened to the radio. How else, or why else would there be such a large audience?

This seems to be subtlety commenting on the alienation that people are feeling in this culture. Yet it gets stranger. Even if there were a host of lonely people on Christmas, why would they be listening to the radio and not watching television? I find this the most interesting point. My only conclusion is that like the Internet, the radio contains absolutely no face to go along with the voice or information being heard (or read in the Internet’s case). Returning to You’ve Got Mail; the reason the movie worked is precisely because they didn’t know what the other looked like. I refer to this plainly as an incomplete sense experience. That is, the radio only provides a voice, and the Internet only provides the written word. The radio has difficulty in formulating meticulous and carefully constructed words, but the Internet contains no voice to go along with those written words. And amidst a culture that has grown to value beauty and money over intellect and knowledge, it seems this is the most pure from constructing a significant relationship.

In fact, this motif of the incomplete sense experience is reflected throughout the film. Jonah calling Sam at the restaurant with minimal purpose, Annie talking to Becky about Sam who sounds disinterested, Annie seeing Sam without saying a word, Jonah’s friend using acronyms in order to express herself (strange how this absurd form of communication is common in this day of texting and instant messaging) and, specifically, Annie’s use of the internet.

As Annie becomes more obsessed with “the voice” to the point of fantasy, she visits her brother who is a professor at John Hopkins. He is of the rational mind, believing that there is no fate or metaphysical attraction between two individuals, to the point of complete ambivalence in regards to his wife. He got married because he had to get married, facing the alternative of his wife leaving him. How strong can love be if someone is willing to leave the other if marriage is not an option? Or, how strong can it be if that person doesn’t feel any connection to his wife as Annie’s brother seems to subtlety indicate? It is clear that whatever connection being sought after by Annie, and has been acquired by Sam, this man does not have it.

Likewise, Becky’s failed relationship with Rick paints another portrait of failed connections. Although we never get the entire story, we discover that she cheated on her husband with the tree man. Yet, she qualifies it by specifically stating she did not fall in love with the tree man. This then indicates not just escaping a failed marriage for a more passionate individual, but a complete disconnection with all forms of partners.

The most obvious example of this lies in the relationship between Annie and Walter. It’s not just that they do not have a connection, but I found myself wondering what they liked in the other person at all. It seems a relationship of necessity rather than desire. Necessity in that - like the statistics that a person is more likely to be killed by a terrorist than married after forty - Annie and Walter need each other to prevent such an occurrence.

Finally, considering that Sam and his wife were the only individuals with a true connection, it seems that her death was a metaphor for the times. The age of genuine connections, in a culture that values beauty and money, is dead. This can also be proved in the first scene when Annie's mother talks to her about the "magic" of relationships. Annie has no idea what it was. Thus, the "magic" once existed, but is now dead.

All of these factors add up to commenting on the fact that there is a fundamental problem in the way people - as alienated individuals - disingenuously connect with their partners. Returning to the incomplete sense experience, the radio is a metaphor for these relationships. People have an understanding of the ideal love, reflected through the radio via “the voice” as the way love ought to be. This is also explicated through the inclusion of the film An Affair to Remember. Both when Annie and Becky watch it, along with Jonah's friend, it is commented that the type of love expressed by Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr is not possible anymore. In other words, people strive for the ideal of love, failing to connect with other individuals as a result; they want what is defined by others, not themselves. All in all, it seems that love has been commodified. Dr. Marsha Fieldstone, the host of the radio program that sets this film in motion, clearly wants ratings and therefore exploits Sam’s problems for her own personal benefit. Or put differently, she exploits the genuine love he experienced.

In the end, however, Sam and Annie develop a complete sense experience, avoiding any fragmentation. They do not live through movies, social expectations or the radio, they seek real compatibility. They can hear, see, touch, feel and taste the other unlike the radio, phone or Internet. This is most clearly indicated when Sam sees Annie at the airport, he has no basis or reason for developing his instantaneous love for her, but his reaction clearly expresses such. Conversely, though not wrongfully, Annie is in love with Sam for his embodiment and ability to possess genuine love. In other words, these two individuals reflect an escape from the commoditization of love.

So, how did Sam and Annie reach this point? The answer lies in the Internet. Only when her obsession reached unbearable dimensions did Annie finally look into Sam’s life via the Internet. She then faxed a Private Investigator to take photographs. Likewise, the only reason Sam and Annie met at the Empire State Building was because Jonah’s friend booked him a flight through the Internet. Thus, it was through cyberspace that a genuine connection was created.

Now, what is the one arena of our culture the has relatively minimal regulation and corporate control? The Internet. It is a destination where free minds can express their ideas and problems without the filtering process of what will derive the highest profit margins and maintain the status quo. Becky, Rick, Annie’s Brother, Walter, all of these characters rely on being told what love is, rather than trying to discover this for themselves.

Fair wages, unionization and paid overtime have allowed us to escape the chains of factory labor, but we still remain the cogs of a massive corporate machine. Endless mergers, buyouts and acquisitions have minimized the ability for the simple man to start an independent business. Want to start a record store? Good luck competing with Best Buy. Want to start a coffee shop? Have fun trying to overcome the Starbucks located on every street corner. Bookstore? Sorry, but Barnes and Noble and Borders has the best selection and lowest prices.

Although free-market thinkers like to preach about the benefits of capitalism and its ability to let individuals freely choose their occupations, I think its extremely clear that more and more entrepreneurial enterprises are becoming increasingly difficult to startup and rightfully compete with the massive enterprises. Recently, CVS merged with online pharmacy Caremark. They will begin controlling approximately 30% of the pharmaceutical market. This means that if you choose the honorable profession of pharmacy, you have a 1 in 3 chance of working for this chain. Considering that this company along with Walgreens will probably offer the best pay and benefits, it doesn’t seem too likely that individuals will come out of school with much choice. But hey, as free-market thinkers say, you can freely choose your job. Just so long as it doesn’t interfere with the corporate models.

Thus, the Internet still allows radical and revolutionary ideas to take place. It is the only means of escape from the totalitarian corporate models that have continued to wipe out independent competition and entrepreneurial wherewithal. Annie and Sam embody and encapsulate this massive change.

Perhaps this is a good thing. Now, the person who loves to read will be forced to take his knowledge and create a book for the shelves of Borders. The person who wants to open a record shop will be forced to make his own music and have it displayed in the aisles of Best Buy. While we may have to accept that the independent specialty store is dying, the responsibility and motivation to create is now upon us. I have no doubt that once these corporations reach a certain level they will censor the works of many who criticize this model. In such an instance, only the internet can provide the proper outlet. Cyberspace is not just for alternative information, but for an alternative reality.

So what is the point of Sleepless in Seattle using radio and internet without television? Well, once upon a time there was no regulations on radio. Anybody, with the right equipment, could fill the airwaves with what they wanted others to hear. Yet, it didn't take long to regulate this mode of communication and have those with the money drown out those with little. Some say the internet stands the same risk of corporate control, but I remain hopeful that those who use it will prevent such a thing from ever happening.

NOTE: While Annie is on the phone with Becky in her hotel, the background shows what looks to be a Starbucks cup on the table; predating the plethora of this chain and yet predicting its soon-to-be function.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Halloween in August; Makes Sense


What the fuck did the white horse have to do with anything? All the audience receives is a definition from some obscure dream book (no author provided) followed by an instantaneous handheld cut to young Michael Meyers and his mother in a mental institution discussing his situation with a white toy horse situated on the table (yeah, it was pretty deep). Considering my hope and excitement for this movie was huge, I attempted to pardon this immediate and stupid inclusion toward explaining the history of Micheal Meyers. Unfortunately, moments after the first kill of the movie, Zombie returns to this asinine motif as Micheal observes his young self and mother standing next to a white stallion silhouetted in the distance. From that moment, it was clear that I was in for yet another let down by Mr. Zombie and his attempt to redefine the Halloween series.

I had a notion, which was confirmed by an interview I forced myself to ingest, that Zombie hoped to create a “realistic” portrayal of Michael Meyers. Michael would no longer be part of the supernatural, but rather a deranged psychopath; dealing with problems of the psyche as manifested through the youthful, overly cliché, slaughtering of animals. Moreover was Zombie’s choice of camerawork - a handheld documentary feel. While both of these approaches were original in theory, Zombie failed by combining realistic elements with highly HIGHLY stylized visuals, all while attempting to recreate a cinematic legacy spanning over twenty-five years. Additionally are the horrendous changes Zombie implemented: Dr. Loomis has now become despicable, Laurie Strode is completely weak and offensively pitiful, Michael does not kill for pleasure, but rather to acquire another white horse fantasy, and the list goes on. While this might have worked for those unfamiliar with the series (though I doubt it), Zombie particularly failed by expecting Halloween fans to abandon the old, horrific storyline in favor of a new, realistic one. Like a child being asked to welcome a new father after the recent death of his own, no one can replace the diabolical Meyer’s legacy by getting rid of the most gripping aspect of the series.



Why is Michael the way he is? Fine, Michael killed animals as a child, had issues with a white horse (seriously, what the hell doe this have to do with anything), and was subsequently incarcerated into a mental institution. But this still does not explain why he is the way he is. In fact, it provides absolutely no further information than Carpenter’s version. It's as if I'm driving from Central Illinois to Chicago and instead of going straight North, I head west into Iowa, up into Wisconsin and then down into the city. Either way, I'm going to same place. And Zombie's rendition, while trying to be different, arrives at the exact same conclusions as the original except with lengthy and needless explication.

Zombie’s painfully boring psychological labyrinth does no more to explain Michael’s evil than the original movie. We may know more regarding Michael’s youth, but it begs the question as to why then is the YOUNG Michael so diabolical. A lot of kids have broken homes growing up or issues with their mothers, and very few become serial killers. What is Zombie trying to say? That Michael is deranged because of his childhood? If so, why did Michael develop murderous tendencies at such a youthful age? The only explanation is that he is evil, and all examinations of the past and psyche are completely superfluous toward explaining this evil.

Are we really to expect anybody to reach a different conclusion than the original Dr. Loomis? In his brief, but powerful words, “I met him, fifteen years ago. I was told there was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong. I met this six-year-old child, with this blank, pale, emotionless face and, the blackest eyes... the devil’s eyes. I spent eight years trying to reach him, and then another seven trying to keep him locked up because I realized what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply...evil.” In no more than two minutes of screen time, Loomis provides all of the explanation the audience needs. He is evil, plain and simple. All Zombie did was take us on a needless thrill ride which did nothing more than to destroy the series.

The best movies are the ones with the most efficiently compressed stories. If something can be explained in one minute why take five? Specifically, the best scenes in cinema necessitate every single second. Think of the work of Tarantino. I just saw Inglorious Basterds and although the movie was 2:36 every single scene is ingeniously necessary and perfectly compressed so that the audience becomes completely absorbed into the story and time breaks down. Rob Zombie wasted HOURS in two movies for what has already been perfectly explained in two minutes from the original. Is anyone really going to walk away defending Michael Meyers as a “sick” individual rather a diabolical character? Is anyone going to change their interpretation of this legendary figure? Has his position with Freddy, Jason or Leatherface changed because he has ridiculous hallucinations? No. And for that reason, Zombie has failed in his approach with a movie no different than Jason X. But hey, even the Friday the 13th remake was pretty damn good.