The House of the Devil — Every now and then a movie comes along that makes you yearn for a drive-in theater revival, and The House of the Devil is one of them. Ti West’s exercise in slow-burn horror wouldn’t look out of place on a double bill with the likes of The Omen or Burnt Offerings, and that’s entirely intentional. Not so much an homage to the horror flicks of the ’70s and ’80s (with all the wink-wink kitschiness that implies) as a meticulous recreation of same, House is more concerned with stretching nail-biting suspense to the breaking point than finding new ways of making heads explode. (Although, rest assured, at least one head does explode real good.)
Judging from the retro hairstyles and pre-MTV fashions (not to mention a cassette Walkman the size of a Gideon Bible), the setting is the early 1980s, an era also evoked by the film’s grainy stock and ominous synth-rock score. Jocelin Donahue is Samantha, a down-on-her-luck college student hoping to rent an apartment from a kindly landlady (one-time scream queen Dee Wallace). After answering a babysitting ad placed by a creepy couple (Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov, natch), Samantha spends the bulk of the movie prowling around their desolate mansion while we wait for something terrible to happen to her. Indie darling Greta Gerwig (Hannah Takes the Stairs) is the best friend who suspects Samantha’s new employers are up to something more sinister than a night out on the town.
The tension is deliciously unbearable at times, as West milks maximum dread from seemingly innocuous events like a pizza delivery or Samantha’s impromptu dance-romp through the house set to the Fixx’s “One Thing Leads to Another.” Unfortunately, instead of rewarding our patience with a truly mind-roasting finale, West concocts a hasty climactic bloodbath unworthy of the agonizing build-up. It’s too bad, because for much of its running time, House of the Devil is the best 1982 movie of the year.
This Is It — Here’s a night of the living dead to send chills up your spine: angel of death Kenny Ortega (what, you think it’s a coincidence he also worked with John Hughes and Patrick Swayze?) directs this documentary comprised of rehearsal footage from Michael Jackson’s planned farewell tour.
The Boondock Saints II: All Saint’s Day — Whatever happened to “You’ll never eat lunch in this town again?” Despite burning every bridge in Hollywood (at least, if the documentary Overnight is to be believed), Troy Duffy returns with a sequel to his barely-released crime movie Boondock Saints, which has enjoyed a long, inexplicable afterlife on DVD.
Gentlemen Broncos — Napoleon Dynamite director Jared Hess is back with another self-consciously quirky tale of a dazed-geek outsider in a polyester world. This time it’s home-schooled teen Benjamin Purvis (Michael Angarano), whose idolatry of science-fiction writer Ronald Chevalier (Jemaine Clement) sours over a plagiarism controversy.
Sigh. ANOTHER reviewer that seems completely baffled by the success of “Boondock Saints” on DVD. Honestly, how hard is it to grasp? The original was a LOT of fun (three words: falling toilet scene), included an OUTRAGEOUS performance by Willem Dafoe, and gave us the standard vigilante story with some new, and welcome, twists. Nobody has ever claimed that Boondock Saints was Oscar-winning cinema, but considering the lackluster - or outright awful - state of movies these days, can’t we just acknowledge that “I had a lot of fun” is high praise for most flicks these days?
DelcoShady commented on
Oct 30 09 at
5:50 pm
