Two Hearts Are Better Than None. Or Are They?

What we've got here is a failure to communicate...

I was initially pretty ambivalent about the changes required by the MPAA for the My Bloody Valentine remake teaser poster to get a passing grade (above on the left is the original version; to the right is the doctored U.S. one-sheet, which is either a brilliant inversion of Alfred Hitchock's chocolate-syrup-for-blood technique from Psycho, or just Lionsgate being lazy); I figured, hey, at least it's not another floating-heads job.

But the more I think about it, the more this incident bothers me. It's not that I'm expecting great things from the movie (if the 3-D aspect didn't temper my hopes, the involvement of Patrick Lussier -- who's sort of the Rick Rosenthal of the 21st-century -- certainly shoved a pick-ax in them) and feel it's been unfairly maligned (the MPAA applies its no-blood or low-blood policy to all posters it approves). It's the further implications of this case that are somewhat irritating.

The one assurance offered all along by those involved with the remake as a consolation to fans of the still-just-as-potent-as-ever-in-all-the-right-(and wrong)-ways original film has been the production team's dedication to making a brutally violent, gory film, maintaining the shameless Tales From the Crypty approach to the material that helps the '80s version endure so well. Had Lionsgate forged ahead with their campaign in the states (the original poster above still hangs in European cinemas), particularly in spite of the MPAA's decree, it might have sent a clear signal of intent and re-established the ballsy integrity the firm once had among genre fans (lost amid a swollen catalog of Saw sequels and shitty direct-to-video drops). Instead, one is forced to call into question all that we've heard about the film's splatter quotient and wonder if this is going to be another edited print dropped in theaters to grab some opening-weekend bank and then released later on an unrated DVD. Sure, there are worse fates to befall a movie, but it's a lot harder for me to keep my dismissive tendencies at bay and even give something a chance if I don't think the people responsible for its creation have put their... uhh, you know... into it.

Who's the fairest French horror auteur of all?

So pummeled into indifference was I by the Hills Have Eyes remake that I'd forgotten how much it excites me to see Alexandre Aja's name attached to something.

Not that the theatrical poster for his latest film, Mirrors, (which Shock broke last week) needed anyone's name on it to generate excitement. Stark and rich all at the same time, the only thing that could make this one-sheet more breathtaking would be the absence of names - cut the credits, drop the "From the director of..." heading, and alter the title treatment so just that one backwards 'R' is red to match the nicely highlighted rating, and this thing would be a masterpiece. Even without any clues regarding the film's plot (which, for the record, sounds equally rad -- check the brief details here), it swallows me whole and makes August 15 seem impossibly far away.

UPDATE: The film's red band trailer debuted today, and it takes a decidedly less subtle approach than the poster above. But if there's one filmmaker who's been consistently successful conveying brutal, relentless horror, it's Alexandre Aja Neal Marshall. But if there's a filmmaker who's been moderately successful at that approach, it's Alexandre Aja, so we'll keep the books open on this one until it spills for real on August 15.

A Tale of Two Layouts (and One Aging, Narcissistic Intercessor)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Some people call it a space cowboy, but I call it April.

We shouldn’t complain about three new theatrical genre releases in as many Fridays, but the last few weeks haven’t exactly delivered the most potent 1-2-3 punch. The Ruins got fooled on April 4; more kids turned out last week for the Prom, but hardly had a night to remember; a killer paints with body parts in this week’s Anamorph, but only on select screens.

Half-hearted horror is typical for this time of year, with studios emptying out their junk drawers to make room for more prints of Iron Man and Indiana Jones -- which makes it as good a time as any to stay in and freshen things up around here. All four frequent readers will notice a new layout, still evolving as I try to decide between functionality and form (and figure out a good place to hide some surprise Jon Mikl-Thor pictures -- found one!).

Much cooler stuff is coming soon, including an interview with the trinity of soul-stealing awesomeness that is Calabrese, and a tribute to sex in conversion vans. If the RSS feed’s a-rockin…

Par Three

As remakes go, Michael Haneke’s new take on his own 1997 film Funny Games is a horse of a different color. A very stark, white one, based on a lot of the film’s promo materials. As of this week, there are now three posters for the film in circulation, and two of them resemble Apple ads. Who knew Helvetica could be so scary?



The first piece is perfect, if your name is Criterion Collection and you’re selling special edition DVDs. Theatrically, though, I don’t think it works. I like the tear in Naomi Watts’ eye, but when I see this shot I can’t help but think it’s advertising a remake of Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time” video rather than a twisted psychological horror movie.



And while we're wang-chunging... did Duran Duran just take the stage? Or is it Hall & Oates? They can't be Milli Vanilli; they don't have the shoulder pads. Utterly awful design.



But the third bowl of porridge is just right. It looks more like a teaser poster as it is, but just slap the credits on the bottom and you’re done. The artwork does the movie’s job for it, really. Looking at this image, your mind starts to churn up all sorts of nasty uses for that golf club. Tut, tut. Good show, gents.

The Sophomore Slum

The trailer for the Butcher Bros.' remake of April Fool's Day hit the net today, and it's predictably awful, the film looking like what might happen if the characters from Sweet Valley High took a wrong turn at the mall and accidentally stumbled into an R.L. Stine novel.

I realize we haven't seen the final film, and of course I'm a little biased, being a big fan of the original (some call the ending a cheat -- to which I say, "the movie is called April Fool's Day, Holmes!"), but I think it's simply irrefutable that this movie looks like manure. All integrity or artistic value aside, at the very least a contemporary horror movie should feel more intense than one made 20 years ago, right? Not so here, if this trailer is to be trusted.

I don't want to keep harping on the remakes...oh hell, let's harp on them! The most disturbing trend in horror today may not be the predominance of remakes, but the waste of good talent that's going into producing them. The Butcher Brothers were responsible for, arguably, the most original and engaging vampire movie of the decade (the '07 After Dark Horrorfest standout The Hamiltons). The forecast called for great stuff in their second outing, but instead they're treading in lame teen territory not even Kevin Williamson would touch.

And they're not the first horror ingénues to squander their clout on a remake copout. In Haute Tension, Alexandre Asa blended up a near-perfect concoction of emotional intensity and graphic initiative, then followed it up by taking a crap in Wes Craven’s toilet. Might as well call out James Wong and that other guy who did the Final Destination movies, too. They practically own real estate in Mediocre Remakeville after the Crispin Glover Willard redo and the... thing they call Black Christmas.

Who’s next for sophomore shame? Douglas Buck may be in line with his take on De Palma’s Sisters, and the Weinsteins have all but doomed the careers of Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury (the team behind the French sensation À l'intérieur (Inside)) by hiring them to remake Hellraiser.

And while no one’s attached to the Friday the 13th and Nightmare projects festering on Michael Bay’s production slate, the directorial want list is no doubt topped with popular freshmen on the fright scene. After all, why make the grueling climb to new creative heights when you can just sink your career to the bottom of Crystal Lake?

A Tale of Two Sisters

I don't know about you, but when I picture upscale urban life in the '70s, certain things come immediately to mind. Muted colors, perpetual cold, dead trees...and vaguely incestuous relationships.

That in mind, the poster for Douglas Buck's Sisters remake hits a conceptual home run, tagging all of the bases and even throwing in a cool, sparse font as a Crackerjack prize. Scratch off the words and you've got a haunting work of digitally doctored photography suitable for framing. I'm not even sure if Buck's version is a period piece or set in the present day, but regardless, it's an aesthetic leap from the original film's one-sheet, and arguably more in line with the story's subversive tone.

Pop appeal noted and aside, there's very little that's subversive about this tabloid screamer. I'd give it credit for the cracked-in-half title treatment hinting at the fractured familial dynamics explored in the movie, but this being a De Palma flick, it was probably just cribbed from Psycho.

The Bust Hits the Big Time

Last week’s issue of Variety (dated July 30 – August 5) spotlights several articles on the declining profits and shifting focus of Hollywood horror movies. One writer places the blame on a glut of indistinguishable films (namely the so-called “torture porn” subgenre, a term that’s starting to sound to me like modern horror’s version of the “all your base are belong to us” phenomenon), while another cites fickle audiences.

Both are partially accurate, but in making their diagnoses, neither article acknowledges or even hints at the greatest threat to Hollywood horror’s health: a pervasive chain of really, really shitty movies and the continued negligence of the studio executives who continue to make them.

“It’s an old story that if a movie works, people will show up,” says the iconic producer Joel Silver. “If it’s scary and it’s fun, you’ll have an audience.” This is an interesting statement coming from a guy whose horror label Dark Castle has yet to issue a film that excelled in either category.

“Audiences change their taste every six months,” asserts Daniel Alter, producer of the upcoming slasher satire/comic adaptation Hack/Slash. “People want to see something new.”

Do they? I do. But if Hollywood knows that audiences want something new, why does the upcoming horror slate detailed in this same series of articles consist almost exclusively of more remakes (Prom Night, Piranha, Last House on the Left, The Tingler, Terror Train, The Stepfather, The Evil Dead, The Birds), more unnecessary Americanizations of Asian films (The Eye, The Echo, Tale of Two Sisters), more Stephen King adaptations (Cell, The Mist), more Friday the 13th, Halloween, and Hellraiser crap, more classic monster revamps (The Wolf Man, The Creature From the Black Lagoon, the Mummy), more video game horror (Castlevania), and more fucking Saw sequels?

Fortunately, another article in this issue addresses the migration of the big studios’ genre labels (Rogue Pictures, Fox Atomic, etc.) away from horror and onto greener pastiches; because, really, why waste time trying to be innovative in horror when you can just recycle the same teen comedy or B-action picture concepts, right?