Kelly WandThe Hills Have Eyes
October 24th 2006 06:41
Back in the dark old days, there used to be this all night movie house on Charing Cross Road. You wouldn’t have wanted to go there at night, though. It was a place where London’s homeless could find refuge, sleep, burp, fuck and fart. Even without the farts, the smell could get pretty intense. It was kind of like a truck full of four day old pig trotters.
Perverts trawled the aisles but it was easy to scare off the meat beaters if you had coloured hair, unhygienic home piercings and clothes that clattered with chain and assorted bits of metal. They wore thick rimmed glasses and worked in insurance. They thought they were looking for danger until they got a sense of what danger meant.
If you had gone to see a band and missed your last train home, this was a rock you could crash yourself into. If you had snorted your way through a sugar bag’s worth of amphetamine sulphate, this too could be the place for you. Video was, after all, still a whole revolution in home entertainment away.
It was on such a visit that I first saw a Tobe Hooper double bill of “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and “Eaten Alive”. The surroundings and the chemicals probably enhanced the effect but this was raw fear at its most primal. Whilst age may have slightly wearied the rubber alligator charm of the latter, the former still packs a punch that no number of lame sequels, tired remakes or hack copies can deflect.
Few films came close to this. Even the name was scary. It told you what it was going to do on the box and the contents were as read. Halloween was probably scarier because John Carpenter had a better handle on suspense, a stunning score and Jamie Lee Curtis. Genuinely liking the person who is being chased by the man with a tool kit tends to elevate the fright level. Casting your horror opus with the kind of people you hated at school tends to divide your sympathies somewhat.
But Halloween was a ride so full of cinematic technique. If you are marvelling at the steadicam work then you know it’s a movie. Texas Chainsaw Massacre may have some very surreal editing tricks towards its climax but the noise of the chainsaw makes you cringe regardless. Structurally, Massacre throws all its hardcore gore into the first forty minutes and then lets you wince at the tender sore it has left upon your psyche. Interestingly, if you watch the last section of the movie alone it almost plays as comedy. Watch it all the way through, however, and the ending has a shocking intensity.
Nothing really came close – except maybe another Charing Cross Road perennial; The Hills Have Eyes.
Watching the film in the first time in some twenty five odd years, I was amazed at how much of its power it had retained. The all-American family goes camping in the desert only to be torn apart both literally and figuratively by a feral family of mutants. It was a simple tale told economically and, as it was born of far less politically correct times, it appeared sequel proof.
Well, with a whole bunch of directors scavenging their back catalogues to produce teen friendly sequels, it couldn’t have been long before Wes Craven imagined there might be gold as well as eyes in them there hills. If my expectations had been any lower I’d have to dig them up before reporting them to you. In this bland Multiplex daze we find ourselves living through, the screen is as sanitised as the constantly monitored blue lighted toilets.
As grotesque as this may sound, I miss the days of having to carefully check your seat before sitting down. I miss the stygian delights of a world where cinema seemed dangerous and unwholesome. Now computer generated image makes every thing look like a fucking cartoon. I’m a guy who loves cartoons but I don’t want my horror movies looking like one. I want some grunge and I want some grunt. I don’t want any highly professional but mind numbingly tedious remakes made for and by snot nosed nerds.
A remake of “The Hills Have Eyes”? Thanks but no thanks.
Or maybe not. Who did you say you were getting into direct this? Alexandre Aja? Dude who made High Tension? All right. You have at least piqued my interest.
High Tension is easily the best horror film of recent years. If you are wondering why you haven’t heard of it, well… it’s in French, had no Australian cinema release and its eventual arrival on DVD could be charitably described as unheralded. Distribution by MRA Entertainment does not tend to achieve the deepest of market penetrations either.
Marie and Alexia go off to study for their exams out in the countryside. Alexia’s parents own a farmhouse that is an idyllic retreat from the malaise of modern life; a middle class ideal of a perfect world. Unfortunately, the rural tranquillity is shattered by the arrival of a nameless, mute psychopath who acts with out recourse to reason or conscience. The first eighty minutes of its eighty seven minute run time are the most shockingly suspenseful cinematic moments I have experienced since the glory days of the late nineteen seventies.
There are some who might disagree but the final turn of the screw is probably unnecessary. I can’t tell you much more without giving the game away but, for me, the killer’s identity turned out to be an illogical disappointment rather than the ultimate shock it was intended to be. If that’s true, where did the guy’s truck come from?
This one small qualm aside, Alexandre Aja has joined the ranks of must see directors for me. Let us see what he can bring to the game.
Well, he remains fairly true to the original script with minimal alterations to accommodate changes in technology. The all-American family aren’t as squeaky clean as their predecessors. There is more explanation to the mutants (as well as all too understandable motivation) but whether this is a good thing is down to taste. Quite often, the less you know about your monsters the better. The bastards lose their bite when you stick them on the psychiatrist’s couch.
There is some excellent make-up and some wonderfully subtle CGI. (You won’t hear me say that too often.) The mutants have an added ferocity that only wire work can help create. Aside from that, all the nuts and bolts are in place and all the canaries that need eating are in their cages.
The only real addition is an added “Straw Dogs” style transformation for the liberal son in law. They probably would have gotten away with it if they hadn’t signed it. I mean, picking up the broken glasses? Where does homage end and rip off begin?
So, where does this leave us? After a few minutes, I was able to shake off my reservations and enjoy this as a film in its own right. Well, as loathed as I am to admit it, this remake is pretty good. I just don’t want to say it too loud because I don’t want to encourage the buggers.
Perverts trawled the aisles but it was easy to scare off the meat beaters if you had coloured hair, unhygienic home piercings and clothes that clattered with chain and assorted bits of metal. They wore thick rimmed glasses and worked in insurance. They thought they were looking for danger until they got a sense of what danger meant.
If you had gone to see a band and missed your last train home, this was a rock you could crash yourself into. If you had snorted your way through a sugar bag’s worth of amphetamine sulphate, this too could be the place for you. Video was, after all, still a whole revolution in home entertainment away.
It was on such a visit that I first saw a Tobe Hooper double bill of “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and “Eaten Alive”. The surroundings and the chemicals probably enhanced the effect but this was raw fear at its most primal. Whilst age may have slightly wearied the rubber alligator charm of the latter, the former still packs a punch that no number of lame sequels, tired remakes or hack copies can deflect.
Few films came close to this. Even the name was scary. It told you what it was going to do on the box and the contents were as read. Halloween was probably scarier because John Carpenter had a better handle on suspense, a stunning score and Jamie Lee Curtis. Genuinely liking the person who is being chased by the man with a tool kit tends to elevate the fright level. Casting your horror opus with the kind of people you hated at school tends to divide your sympathies somewhat.
But Halloween was a ride so full of cinematic technique. If you are marvelling at the steadicam work then you know it’s a movie. Texas Chainsaw Massacre may have some very surreal editing tricks towards its climax but the noise of the chainsaw makes you cringe regardless. Structurally, Massacre throws all its hardcore gore into the first forty minutes and then lets you wince at the tender sore it has left upon your psyche. Interestingly, if you watch the last section of the movie alone it almost plays as comedy. Watch it all the way through, however, and the ending has a shocking intensity.
Nothing really came close – except maybe another Charing Cross Road perennial; The Hills Have Eyes.
Watching the film in the first time in some twenty five odd years, I was amazed at how much of its power it had retained. The all-American family goes camping in the desert only to be torn apart both literally and figuratively by a feral family of mutants. It was a simple tale told economically and, as it was born of far less politically correct times, it appeared sequel proof.
Well, with a whole bunch of directors scavenging their back catalogues to produce teen friendly sequels, it couldn’t have been long before Wes Craven imagined there might be gold as well as eyes in them there hills. If my expectations had been any lower I’d have to dig them up before reporting them to you. In this bland Multiplex daze we find ourselves living through, the screen is as sanitised as the constantly monitored blue lighted toilets.
As grotesque as this may sound, I miss the days of having to carefully check your seat before sitting down. I miss the stygian delights of a world where cinema seemed dangerous and unwholesome. Now computer generated image makes every thing look like a fucking cartoon. I’m a guy who loves cartoons but I don’t want my horror movies looking like one. I want some grunge and I want some grunt. I don’t want any highly professional but mind numbingly tedious remakes made for and by snot nosed nerds.
A remake of “The Hills Have Eyes”? Thanks but no thanks.
Or maybe not. Who did you say you were getting into direct this? Alexandre Aja? Dude who made High Tension? All right. You have at least piqued my interest.
High Tension is easily the best horror film of recent years. If you are wondering why you haven’t heard of it, well… it’s in French, had no Australian cinema release and its eventual arrival on DVD could be charitably described as unheralded. Distribution by MRA Entertainment does not tend to achieve the deepest of market penetrations either.
Marie and Alexia go off to study for their exams out in the countryside. Alexia’s parents own a farmhouse that is an idyllic retreat from the malaise of modern life; a middle class ideal of a perfect world. Unfortunately, the rural tranquillity is shattered by the arrival of a nameless, mute psychopath who acts with out recourse to reason or conscience. The first eighty minutes of its eighty seven minute run time are the most shockingly suspenseful cinematic moments I have experienced since the glory days of the late nineteen seventies.
There are some who might disagree but the final turn of the screw is probably unnecessary. I can’t tell you much more without giving the game away but, for me, the killer’s identity turned out to be an illogical disappointment rather than the ultimate shock it was intended to be. If that’s true, where did the guy’s truck come from?
This one small qualm aside, Alexandre Aja has joined the ranks of must see directors for me. Let us see what he can bring to the game.
Well, he remains fairly true to the original script with minimal alterations to accommodate changes in technology. The all-American family aren’t as squeaky clean as their predecessors. There is more explanation to the mutants (as well as all too understandable motivation) but whether this is a good thing is down to taste. Quite often, the less you know about your monsters the better. The bastards lose their bite when you stick them on the psychiatrist’s couch.
There is some excellent make-up and some wonderfully subtle CGI. (You won’t hear me say that too often.) The mutants have an added ferocity that only wire work can help create. Aside from that, all the nuts and bolts are in place and all the canaries that need eating are in their cages.
The only real addition is an added “Straw Dogs” style transformation for the liberal son in law. They probably would have gotten away with it if they hadn’t signed it. I mean, picking up the broken glasses? Where does homage end and rip off begin?
So, where does this leave us? After a few minutes, I was able to shake off my reservations and enjoy this as a film in its own right. Well, as loathed as I am to admit it, this remake is pretty good. I just don’t want to say it too loud because I don’t want to encourage the buggers.
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