I swore up & down (as opposed to sideways) that I wouldn't see the "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" remake; but after leaving work and dining "Cajun" aka Ass-Torture of the Porcelain Gods, I gave in to it's curious allure from a fave bargain theater.
I eased into my seat expecting to hold this film in the utmost contempt and you know what?...I didn't hate it.
That's not to say I thought all too highly of it, but it wasn't nearly the Fulci eyeball gag that I thought is was going to be.
Several things kept me from giving this film my absolute respect and admiration, and only about half of them were it's own fault.
1. I don't get scared at horror films. I've been watching them since I was three years old, I'm used to every worn to the bone trick (jump scares, fake outs, gore) and I've written several short stories ( strictly non-professional) dealing w/ the macabre. At the moment it makes absolutely no sense for me to expect to be scared by anything in this genre (see my "Japan & Carnal Violence" post for what does f*ck w/ me to a point).
2. It's a remake of a classic film that managed to capture lightning in a bottle, there is only 1 chance out a 100, that you'll do that twice. Whether this new film should be faulted for that is purely subjective.
3. The 70's were obviously a great time for exploitation/horror films as well as "respectable" Hollywood product. After the morality code fell apart, filmmakers of all inclinations came out of the woodwork w/ something to say...even if they didn't know it.
New ideas & bigger balls, a concept that has IMHO yet to be grasped by any mainstream filmmaker (horror wise) in the new millenium.
4. An extension/amalgamation of the previous three. TCM 2003, was produced by Michael Bay (shit-weasel on roids) and directed by Marcus Nispel, a former music video director (insert highly stylized camera shot here). That doesn't mean the film looked like some glossy confection w/ superhuman abs, fake tits, and hot pants (it only looked that way half the time), but it does mean that a LOT of the "you could be there" documentary feel of the original is lost.
I wouldn't mind that if this new film had something more to offer, other than fleshed out character motivation and gore (which the lack of, made the original so real and effective).
I am however judging this film on the Cronenberg/Carpenter principal; the law that states that you have to take well known, tired concepts ( creature/man metamorphasis & alien threat) and turn them on their their head making them twice as effective and contempary genre masterpieces in a way their predecessors couldn't have imagined.
As I sat there trying to feel this film out, I was distracted by two things: The little red naked demon perched atop my shoulder whispering in my ear "Do NOT enjoy this piece of shit!", and my libido...spouting off a down right dirty Lenny Bruce like inner monolgue about the Kama Sutra and Jessica Biel.
Overall it's a g...g...g...go...good horror yarn (damn that was hard to get out) that I would've enjoyed more if not for the existence of the original, and more than a passing familiarity with the conventions of the genre.
Ermey oozed tasty bits of nastiness out of every pore and was the best part of the film, and If your a kid not familiar w/ old school horror, you could do worse than this film (like the paint drying excitement and Mary Poppins perversity of "Wrong Turn").
I eased into my seat expecting to hold this film in the utmost contempt and you know what?...I didn't hate it.
That's not to say I thought all too highly of it, but it wasn't nearly the Fulci eyeball gag that I thought is was going to be.
Several things kept me from giving this film my absolute respect and admiration, and only about half of them were it's own fault.
1. I don't get scared at horror films. I've been watching them since I was three years old, I'm used to every worn to the bone trick (jump scares, fake outs, gore) and I've written several short stories ( strictly non-professional) dealing w/ the macabre. At the moment it makes absolutely no sense for me to expect to be scared by anything in this genre (see my "Japan & Carnal Violence" post for what does f*ck w/ me to a point).
2. It's a remake of a classic film that managed to capture lightning in a bottle, there is only 1 chance out a 100, that you'll do that twice. Whether this new film should be faulted for that is purely subjective.
3. The 70's were obviously a great time for exploitation/horror films as well as "respectable" Hollywood product. After the morality code fell apart, filmmakers of all inclinations came out of the woodwork w/ something to say...even if they didn't know it.
New ideas & bigger balls, a concept that has IMHO yet to be grasped by any mainstream filmmaker (horror wise) in the new millenium.
4. An extension/amalgamation of the previous three. TCM 2003, was produced by Michael Bay (shit-weasel on roids) and directed by Marcus Nispel, a former music video director (insert highly stylized camera shot here). That doesn't mean the film looked like some glossy confection w/ superhuman abs, fake tits, and hot pants (it only looked that way half the time), but it does mean that a LOT of the "you could be there" documentary feel of the original is lost.
I wouldn't mind that if this new film had something more to offer, other than fleshed out character motivation and gore (which the lack of, made the original so real and effective).
I am however judging this film on the Cronenberg/Carpenter principal; the law that states that you have to take well known, tired concepts ( creature/man metamorphasis & alien threat) and turn them on their their head making them twice as effective and contempary genre masterpieces in a way their predecessors couldn't have imagined.
As I sat there trying to feel this film out, I was distracted by two things: The little red naked demon perched atop my shoulder whispering in my ear "Do NOT enjoy this piece of shit!", and my libido...spouting off a down right dirty Lenny Bruce like inner monolgue about the Kama Sutra and Jessica Biel.
Overall it's a g...g...g...go...good horror yarn (damn that was hard to get out) that I would've enjoyed more if not for the existence of the original, and more than a passing familiarity with the conventions of the genre.
Ermey oozed tasty bits of nastiness out of every pore and was the best part of the film, and If your a kid not familiar w/ old school horror, you could do worse than this film (like the paint drying excitement and Mary Poppins perversity of "Wrong Turn").
