The Hills Have Eyes (2006)

Creative films in Hollywood are a dying breed. Remakes and films based on old television shows are increasingly becoming the norm over the last decade, while original films are often relegated to limited releases. Filmmakers have even resorted to remaking films from other countries (like Japan's Shall We Dance? or Korea's The Lake House) because they're running out of material here in America.

While no genre has been safe from the concept of remakes, the horror genre has been hit especially hard. Whether they be remakes of Asian ghost stories or of classics from the '70s and '80s, many are unwanted, many are uncalled for, few turn out to be good. While these remakes often draw the ire of the horror devoted (and enthusiasm from a younger generation who have yet to discover the originals), there is no stopping the horror remake juggernaut.

However, genre legend Wes Craven seemingly decided to take a cue from George Romero's 1990 remake of Night of the Living Dead and organize a remake of one of his own films, namely his 1977 sophomore film The Hills Have Eyes. If your movie's going to be remade, why not redo it yourself? Teaming with Hills Have Eyes producer Peter Locke, Craven recruited High Tension director Alexandre Aja and his writing partner Grégory Levasseur to adapt Craven's film for more modern audiences. And guess what? It's not a bad remake.

Our tale of terror opens in a lonely, isolated spot in the hills of the New Mexico desert. The area appears to be populated by one solitary gas station, so remote that the sign out front advertises that it's the only gas station for 200 miles. It's obvious that the station doesn't get many customers, so the station's lone attendant (Tom Bower) is surprised to see a truck hauling an old Airstream trailer pull up for some service.

As the attendant refills the truck, we are introduced to the all-American Carter family, who are making this pit stop while on a road trip to San Diego. Family patriarch Big Bob (Ted Levine) firmly believes the road through the desert is a shortcut despite all greater logic, much to the chagrin of his wife Ethel (Kathleen Quinlan), their bored teenage children Bobby (Dan Byrd) and Brenda (Emilie de Ravin), married daughter Lynn (Vinessa Shaw) and her dorky liberal husband Doug (Aaron Stanford), and Lynn and Doug's infant daughter Catherine (Maisie Camilleri Preziosi).

With the gas tank full and everyone ready to go, Big Bob is just about to drive off when the attendant stops him, telling him of a quick side road not on the map, about two miles from the station. The Carters are already lost, so if that road can take them to anything resembling civilization, why not? It's not like listening to a suspicious old codger in a horror movie ever got anyone into trouble, right? Right? So the Carters take that little side road, but end up running over a row of spikes conveniently placed across the middle of the road before crashing headlong into a rock.

Their cell phones don't work and Big Bob doubts their CB radio will get any kind of signal, so they're stranded. The Carters need help if they're going to get out of this predicament. But as night falls, they find not help, but violence, bloodshed, and carnage as they learn that they are at the mercy of a band of mutated, cannibalistic psychopaths that call the desert hills their home.

The original Hills Have Eyes is considered by many to be a landmark in '70s grindhouse horror, and this remake is faithful to its roots. The movie is an unrelenting venture into madness, a wonderful callback to when horror movies were meant to horrify. While admittedly the remake is much more polished than its source material (thus losing some of the original's "rough around the edges" charm), the movie still manages to improve upon the micro-budgeted, almost amateurish nature of the original. The grainy look of the original makes it look almost like a home movie (despite its cheap effects), while the remake's glossy sheen makes it seem as if it has something of a dreamlike quality, like it were floating along the boundaries between fantasy and reality.

I was really amazed with Alexandre Aja's work on High Tension, and he continued to impress me with The Hills Have Eyes. Aja is an extremely capable filmmaker, and I believe that with a few more movies under his belt, he could become the next big horror auteur. He utilizes relatively shaky cinema movements (wonderfully done by cinematographer Maxime Alexandre) and smooth yet fast-paced editing on order to pull the audience into the world the movie occupies. While the quick edits and fast camera movements would be annoying and distracting in other movies, they work to create an unnerving, unsettling atmosphere that the movie benefits from.

With the exception of a few changes, the exemplary screenplay penned by Aja and Grégory Levasseur maintains a high level of faithfulness to Craven's original film. The movie could have alienated devotees of the original by either staying too close or straying too far from the source, but for the most part, I think they succeeded. However, unlike the original movie, there is no attempt to really get to know the antagonists. There is somewhat of an attempt to paint Laura Ortiz's character Ruby as "the good one" (akin to Ruby's 1977 counterpart played by Janus Blythe), but since the antagonists are not given much development at all, it all ends up seeming unimportant in the end.

There also seems to be no real attempt to give the cannibals a family dynamic as seen in Craven's earlier version. In the 1977 film, the characters were an evil, inbred version of a normal family, with the father, the kids willing to please their parents, and the rebellious black sheep of the family. But 29 years later, the villains in the new Hills Have Eyes are merely monsters hideously mutated by years of radiation fallout, with a lust to kill any outsiders that dare stumble across their humble abode. While making the villains more akin to a maniacal family unit akin to Leatherface's brood from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre series could have been more frightening than what Aja and Levasseur gave us, the villains still manage to be quite frightening and intimidating.

The score composed by Tom Hajdu and Andy Milburn (credited as "tomandandy") is not so much music as it is a horror story told through sound. Their score is absolutely perfect for the movie, and without becoming overbearing, it goes against the grain of the overproduced, nonchalant scores many horror movies have nowadays. The movie also boasts incredible special effects (supervised by Gregory Nicotero and Howard Berger from KNB EFX Group), along with a cast whose abilities far exceed those of the original's cast. Each of the protagonists are believable and non-offensive (and I must say that I really liked Ted Levine), but unfortunately, the cannibals don't really stand out because they aren't given any time to individually shine.

However, I must say that Desmond Askew's short performance as "Big Brain" (a wheelchair-bound freak with a frighteningly oversized cranium) is too creepy for words. His hoarse, wheezing voice alone is unsettling, but when combined with his appearance, Askew's one scene becomes one of the movie's most memorable set pieces. And I must ask: am I the only one that couldn't believe that the Ted Levine from The Hills Have Eyes is the same guy that played Buffalo Bill in The Silence of the Lambs? If it weren't for the name and voice, I'd believe you if you said they were two different people.

When it comes right down to it, both the original Hills Have Eyes and its remake assert that humans are animals by nature, but it's all a matter of how that animalistic side is embraced. Yeah, the antagonists are violent, deformed, lunatic cannibals, but once pushed to the edge, the protagonists are as equally insane and quick to resort to violence in dire circumstances. And like its predecessor, Aja's interpretation of The Hills Have Eyes is nothing short of unsettling and borderline disturbing, and it's sporting a both a vicious mean streak and a pitch black heart. So in short, those of you with weak constitutions or an aversion to depravity in horror cinema, you might want to skip it. However, it is not only a remake that actually manages to improve upon its source material, but a well-crafted piece of nihilistic horror art, I give the 2006 version of The Hills Have Eyes four stars and a seal of approval.

Final Rating: ****

The Hills Have Eyes (1977)

The horror genre has always been about breaking the boundaries of both the imagination and good taste. If a horror movie hasn't frightened you or pushed you out of your "comfort zone," then it hasn't done what it's supposed to. Very few horror filmmakers nowadays are willing to truly horrify audiences, while many are willing to work within the constraints of a PG-13 rating in order to make more money at the box office.

With less offensive horror seemingly becoming more and more prevalent, many horror fans are yearning for a full-fledged return to the gritty, rough-around-the-edges horror movies from the '70s that have become today's influential cult classics. One such film was The Hills Have Eyes, the sophomore film of genre legend Wes Craven. His follow-up to Craven's equally abrasive debut movie The Last House on the Left, The Hills Have Eyes has amassed a large cult following and has become an influential part of the genre since it was unleashed upon the world three decades ago. Though I do wonder this: has The Hills Have Eyes been deserving of the kindness time has bestowed upon it?

The movie opens in a lonely, rural spot in the mountains of the southwest United States. The area appears to be populated by one standalone gas station, which itself looks mere moments away from crumbling. The station's sole employee, Fred (John Steadman), is ready to remove himself from the barren wasteland and join civilization, but has trouble when a young girl named Ruby (Janus Blythe) shows up at his doorstep, offering to trade stolen whiskey and radios for food. When he mentions he's preparing to leave, she implores him to take her with him. He laughs her off, but before their conversation can continue, they are interrupted by a car pulling up outside.

It is here that we are introduced to the Carters, a family passing through the area on their way to California. Family patriarch and retired police officer Big Bob (Russ Grieve) asks Fred for directions, but he recommends that they stay on the main road and not take any shortcuts. But since nobody ever thinks to listen to the harmless old coot's good advice in movies like this, the Carters immediately take the first "shortcut" they find. They also seem to have paid no mind to Fred mentioning that the Air Force uses a particular stretch of the desert as a testing range, because a number of fighter jets pass over their car as soon as they turn down the narrow road. In all the confusion, the car swerves off the road and ends up breaking an axle, leaving them stranded in the middle of nowhere.

They need help if they're going to get out of this predicament, so Bob decides to walk back to Fred's gas station while his son-in-law Doug (Martin Speer) goes in the other direction to find someone. This leaves Bob's wife Ethel (Virginia Vincent), their son Bobby (Robert Houston), their daughters Lynne (Dee Wallace-Stone) and Brenda (Susan Lanier), and Lynne and Doug's baby daughter Katherine (Brenda Marinoff) high and dry in the desert as the sun sets. Their only means of protection are their pet German shepherds that they've brought along, but a pair of dogs won't protect them from what the monsters that call the desert mountains home.

And once nightfall arrives, the monsters in the mountains strike, as one by one the stranded family is raped, murdered, and mutilated by Ruby's psychotic father Papa Jupiter (James Whitworth) and her equally insane brothers Mars (Lance Gordon), Pluto (Michael Berryman), and Mercury (Peter Locke, credited as "Arthur King") until the survivors strike back to exact bloody vengeance.

Loosely inspired by the Scottish folk tales of Alexander "Sawney" Bean and his clan of cave-dwelling cannibals, The Hills Have Eyes is widely considered to be a masterpiece of exploitative '70s horror. There is no arguing its influence regarding the genre, but much of the time, the movie seems cheaply done. The Hills Have Eyes was filmed for 230,000 dollars, and even when adjusted for inflation, the movie's budget would be right at 760,000 bucks today. Although it may prove that you too can make a legendary horror movie for less than a million dollars, The Hills Have Eyes is hindered by its meager budget.

While I don't think Wes Craven really hit his groove until he made A Nightmare on Elm Street seven years later, he definitely shows a talent that made him one of the most respected names in horror. Admittedly, some shots look like they would have been better suited for cheap made-for-TV movies, but Craven and cinematographer Eric Saarinen make the most of it and I admire their efforts.

I must mention while I'm here that there are some instances where the screen goes almost completely black. I don't know if that was intentional or just a case of poor lighting, but the movie benefits from it. There is a particular scene in which the Doug character charges out into the desert after their first encounter with the cannibals in the middle of the night. The camera slowly tracks out, and all that can be seen is Doug surrounded by pitch black darkness. Regardless of intention, the moment really works as a metaphor for the isolation, loneliness, and confusion that I'm sure the character had to be feeling.

Unfortunately, Craven's script isn't half as good as his direction. Frankly, I thought the script sucked. The Carters are self-centered, annoying, and so downright stupid that if anything bad happens, they had it coming. They split up every time they get the opportunity, and absolutely fail to communicate on any level even when their very survival is on the line. Hell, Bobby doesn't bother to tell anyone that there's some kind of sick killer in the desert until right before the sick killer and all his buddies pounce on them. And even when Bobby does tell someone, he interrupts Doug and Lynne during a rather intimate moment so he can tell them. Did he even think that maybe he should have said something 20 minutes earlier so they could have prepared?

However, making the Carters such an awful family may have been Craven's intent from the start. Papa Jupiter's clan may not be the greatest family out there, but at least they're more of a family than the Carters. They're continually in communication with one another, they're far more modest, and they truly do seem like they care about one another. They might be crazy baby-eating psychopaths, but at least they're not egotistical morons like the Carters. As one reviewer put it, The Hills Have Eyes is "like The Grapes of Wrath, but with dog evisceration." And I think he pretty much hit the nail on the head with that.

Perhaps the worst thing about the entire movie is the acting. If the Carters are actually supposed to be likeable, the actors playing them do not help matters at all. With the exception of Dee Wallace-Stone, every member of the Carter family fail to show much acting talent at all. However, with the exception of Janus Blythe, the cannibals are all wonderful. They're equally frightening yet fun, with James Whitworth and Michael Berryman as the standout performers. Also frightening yet fun is the score composed by Don Peake. Reminiscent of the music from the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Peake's music is a bizarre, surreal experience that suits the movie well.

While The Hills Have Eyes may be a torchbearer for the ultra-violent grindhouse horror of the '70s, it's just not very good. I didn't feel that it lived up to the reputation it has amassed over the years, and because of that, I was left feeling somewhat disappointed. I went in expecting something, and the movie delivered something else. But to be fair, The Hills Have Eyes does have a message hidden beneath its rough, crude exterior. That message is that even the most civilized or "normal" denizens of society can snap if pushed too far. Perhaps beyond those breaking points, we may be crazier than what has caused that.

Unfortunately, I cannot justify giving The Hills Have Eyes anything higher than two and a half stars. The movie is worth watching if you are interested in Craven's work before he was known for A Nightmare on Elm Street and Scream, or if you're into this style of movie, but I don't know if I'd recommend it to anyone outside of those people. Though as always, your mileage may vary.

Final Rating: **½

Hostel (2005)

Horror movies are a wacky breed. How many other movie genres can offer a wide range of sub-genres? There's zombies, cannibal rednecks, masked serial murderers, and all forms of the supernatural. However, there has been a recent trend heading towards darker, more misanthropic horror stories. With flicks like Rob Zombie's House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil's Rejects, Alexandre Aja's High Tension and The Hills Have Eyes, Greg McLean's Wolf Creek, and the Saw franchise, horror has slowly been returning to the mid-'70s style of visceral, violent, blood-and-guts terror.

And one of the most evident of these films is Eli Roth's Hostel. A fan of notorious Japanese director Takashi Miike, Roth uses his sophomore project to craft a loving ode to Miike's style of filmmaking, an unrepentantly violent look into a world that I hope and pray does not truly exist. But is the movie actually worth seeking out?

Our story follows two Americans, Paxton (Jay Hernandez) and Josh (Derek Richardson), as they backpack through Europe with their Icelandic friend Oli (Eythor Gudjonsson). After an evening of entertainment at various Amsterdam hotspots (e.g. a hash bar, a discotheque, a brothel), they return to their hostel to discover that it's past curfew and they've been locked out. They end up causing a commotion when they try to get back in, but before they can face the wrath of some hostile locals, another local calls them up to his apartment. They dash up the fire escape and into his window, where the local introduces himself as Alex (Lubomir Bukovy).

The trio strikes up a discussion with Alex about hooking up with as many women as possible while on their tour of Europe, and Alex tells them of a hostel outside of the Slovakian capital of Bratislava that is home to beautiful women that will have sex with any foreigner for little money. Alex looks more like a sewer rat than he does a man, but hey, he's offering nubile young women who are so uninterested in human interaction that the only thing they care about is engaging in lots and lots of freaky, nasty, unbridled eastern European carnality. Why not listen to the guy?

Naturally, they catch the next train to Slovakia. Once they arrive, the three backpackers check into the hostel Alex spoke of, finding that their semi-private room is already populated by a pair of Russian beauties, Natalya (Barbara Nedeljáková) and Svetlana (Jana Kaderábková). The five roommates hit it off quickly, hitting the town that evening at the local nightclub. But as the three male travelers enjoy all the sex, drugs, and rock and roll that they can handle, it soon becomes apparent that foul things are afoot in Slovakia. One by one, they discover the horrifying truth: that their hostel is merely a front for a group that allows rich tourists to sadistically torture and murder kidnapped innocents for a fee. They have entered a veritable Hell on Earth, where they will be maimed, tortured, mutilated, and discover their worst nightmares come to life.

Hostel could have been really, really good. It has respectable direction, wonderful music, inoffensive performances from its cast, and blood by the gallons. Unfortunately, the movie is bogged down by its lackluster script. The movie was billed as "inspired by true events," but that may be a bit of a stretch. Writer/director Eli Roth says he got the idea for Hostel when he was shown a Thai website that advertised a "murder vacation," where interested parties could pay 10,000 dollars to torture and kill innocent victims. He admittedly didn't know if it was real or a joke, but he was intrigued enough to write the movie.

It was written, produced, edited, and released in just short of a year, with the script apparently being finalized in right around a month (give or take a few weeks). I think that's really apparent, because it seems as if Roth didn't take his time when writing. It seems to me that he had so many ideas he wanted to include, that he forgot to give us anything meaningful. It's nothing that you couldn't see by renting either Faces of Death, Wolf Creek, one of the Saw movies, or something directed by Takashi Miike.

I think it's fitting that Takashi Miike has a cameo in Hostel, because Roth cites Miike's wonderful Audition as one of his major influences for the movie. While there is no middle-aged Japanese man looking for a new wife in Hostel, nor does it carry the same type of vibe as Audition, both movies involve characters falling deeper and deeper into a world they eventually regret ever getting involved with. (Though to that aspect, Hostel also bears a striking similarity to the far superior Wolf Creek.)

Though while Audition gives the appearance of a romance movie in its early going, Hostel initially comes across as a badly written teen sex comedy, and its very hard to actually identify with any of the three leads. They only really exist to get high, drunk, and laid. I understand that sort of character is somewhat of a cliché nowadays, especially in an era of movies like American Pie and Van Wilder. But what made the characters from those movies so endearing is that the have their own personality, charm, and charisma. Though there is some attempt to give Hostel's characters some dimension, it ultimately falls flat.

Though to be fair, the script wouldn't have been all that bad if the few bizarre leaps in logic had been excised, and the entire first act of the movie hadn't been spent making the three leads look like stupid, stoned, sex-crazed losers. On second thought, perhaps the characters being so unlikable is Roth's intention. The three leads are self-serving, narcissistic frat boys that do not connect on any level with any of the women they hook up with; to them, the women are just stories, or life experiences. We don't have any reason to feel bad for them (or we might outright dislike them), so when they are finally maimed, tortured, and finally killed, we may be cheering for the brutality. And how awful are we, for cheering on the cruelty? Ultra-violent movies like this are confusing, because any sort of entertainment or enjoyment derived from them could paint the viewer as being nearly as depraved as the movie's villains. That's something to think about.

As with Cabin Fever, Roth shows a lot of promise as a director, and I think that he could in time become a prime time player within the horror genre. The movie has quite a few brilliant pieces of filmmaking, believe it or not. There are gorgeous camera movements (thanks to cinematographer Milan Chadima), and the subtle changes in lighting and atmosphere before arriving in the torture chamber are excellent. When we first arrive, the hostel and its surrounding area are bright, cheery, and comfortable. But as we move along and the torture chamber begins to claim its victims, the hostel becomes drab and dreary, and the chirping birds outside are replaced by crows.

There is also some wonderful editing in the movie too. For example, there is a scene in which one character hides in what has been termed "the butcher shop." The butcher (played by Josef Bradna) is hacking up body parts to better dispose of them, and with every slow, agonizing chop of his meat cleaver, we cut to a stack of disembodied limbs, to the looking for an escape, to the lifeless face of one of the survivor's deceased compatriots. It was a very good choice in editing, as it makes the scene a very harrowing one. But thanks to Hostel, I think I've started to grow numb to nudity in films. The first half of the movie has so much nudity that I could have sworn it was a porno film. After a while, I just wanted to throw up my hands and say, "Okay, I think I've finally seen all the naked women I'll ever need to see in life." Thanks a lot, Roth, you jerk.

Moving on, there are also the viciously realistic makeup effects orchestrated by Greg Nicotero and Howard Berger from KNB EFX Group. As I've said in many of my reviews, I've been a fan of KNB for a long time, and they didn't let me down with Hostel. From the severed limbs to the especially disturbing eye scene (you'll know it when you see it), the movie is a tour de force in cinematic nastiness. There's also the astounding musical score composed by Nathan Barr. The orchestral music alternates between haunting and ferocious, and successfully added to the intended atmosphere. And let's not forget the film's cast. Practically everyone in the cast is either an anonymous nobody, or actors that only people in eastern Europe would know. And in all honesty, I think most of them will remain unknown in America.

However, I must acknowledge that there were a few performances that I really liked. Eythor Gudjonsson isn't around much past the first act of the movie, but I thought he was hilarious and I hope that more American productions will cast him. Jay Hernandez is really good, and both Barbara Nedeljáková and Jana Kaderábková are a lot better than I thought they would be. I also liked Jan Vlasák as an incredibly creepy Dutch businessman and Rick Hoffman as an ultra-intense client of the hunting club, but anybody could have played the other roles.

Hostel is like three different short movies put together to make one. The first act is a sex comedy with tales of ribaldry and women with loose morals, the second act is the horrific torture movie, and the third act is a chase/revenge movie. With a better script, the movie could have been something of a modern cult success, but unfortunately, its full potential was not realized. I should say, however, that the movie's mere concept is scary enough. The execution may have left something to be desired, but I really did think that the idea of people paying money to torture and murder someone else is terrifying. But when you boil it down, there doesn't really seem to be much of a point to Hostel, mainly because there is so little emotion outside of complete misanthropy. It's a modern-day geek show, just one step higher than the guy that bites the heads off chickens at the circus.

Hostel has the appearance of a softcore porno movie that turns into a disgusting snuff film halfway through, like a Faces of Death video with better production value. It serves no purpose other than to see how much senseless gore a theatrically released horror movie could get away with and still earn an R-rating, then making a killing on the home video market with an unrated DVD. But because there actually are some parts I liked, I'll give it a "thumbs in the middle" with two and a half stars. I didn't hate it, but it didn't give me much of a reason to recommend it to anyone but people who love torture horror.

Final Rating: **½

Wolf Creek (2005)

Some of the most popular and intense horror films of the last several years have come from outside of the United States. Movies such as Alexandre Aja's French slasher High Tension, Danny Boyle's British zombie movie 28 Days Later, the Ginger Snaps trilogy from Canada, and the work of Asian filmmakers like Takashi Miike, Hideo Nakata, and Takashi Shimizu have all established that horror's strongest presence in this century perhaps lies beyond America's borders. With horror movies from the United Kingdom (e.g. 28 Days Later, Dog Soldiers, Shaun of the Dead) finding moderate success upon their importation to America, it was only a matter of time before horror movies from other English-speaking countries invaded the U.S. box offices.

One such film was Wolf Creek, an import from Australia that combined two recent trends in American entries in the genre: movies culling inspiration from supposedly true stories, and movies such as The Devil's Rejects, which hearken back to the gritty and extreme horror films of a bygone era of filmmaking. But does Wolf Creek succeed in being scary, or is it an import that should have stayed home?

Our tale of terror begins in the small coastal town of Broome in western Australia, circa 1999. It is here that we are quickly introduced to a pair of British tourists, Liz Hunter (Cassandra Magrath) and Kristy Earl (Kestie Morassi), and their Aussie friend and tour guide Ben Mitchell (Nathan Phillips). The trio have set out on a road trip through the lonely and isolated outback to visit the enormous Wolf Creek meteorite crater. They arrive and ponder the origins of the crater, but upon returning to where they parked, they discover that both their watches and their car have mysteriously stopped working. The three stranded travelers are forced to call it a night and camp out in the car, but late that evening, they're stumbled upon by — of all things — a man driving a tow truck.

Introducing himself as Mick Taylor (John Jarratt), the trucker is charming in a Crocodile Dundee kind of way, but something about him is unsettling. But no matter, the travelers need their car fixed, and Mick offers to tow them back to his encampment so he can patch it up for them in the morning. After a ride that feels like it lasts for hours, they finally arrive at Mick's camp, an intimidating combination of an abandoned mine and a junkyard. Mick is ever the host as they settle in, offering food, water, and a place to stay for the night. After having a fun evening around the campfire, everyone decides to turn in for the night and get some shut-eye. But things take a turn for the worse the following morning, when the three tourists all discover that their road trip has led them into a world of cruelty and sadism, and that Mick is far from the helpful, amiable man they believed him to be.

The American marketing campaign for Wolf Creek is reminiscent of the one for Michael Bay's remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in 2003. It is purportedly based on true events, yet both are fictional stories that spin true crimes into their narrative. While The Texas Chainsaw Massacre uses facts about Wisconsin cannibal Ed Gein for its story, Wolf Creek draws inspiration from various Australian murder cases, primarily the brutal "backpacker murders" committed by Ivan Milat between 1989 and 1992, the "Snowtown murders" committed between 1992 and 1999, and the disappearance of British tourist Peter Falconio.

Instead of following one particular incident, elements of them all are blended together to craft the story we are presented with. And what a story it is, too. Wolf Creek is relentlessly brutal, and sensitive viewers may just want to skip it. The movie utilizes an intensity that only makes the horrors depicted onscreen that much more terrifying, so even moments that may be tame seem as vicious as the worst.

I wouldn't go as far as to call the three protagonists memorable, but I didn't think they were awful. They have an enjoyable chemistry together, which the movie needed to make their friendship believable. Nathan Phillips is fun, but he disappears without a trace for nearly forty minutes in the third act. Until his reappearance for the final ten minutes, he's pretty much a non-factor for the entire thing. But when he's around, I thought he was very entertaining. I enjoyed Cassandra Magrath's charismatic, likable performance, and if Wolf Creek had gone the traditional route and made her the Final Girl that finally ends the killer's wrath at the end of the movie, I think she would have been up to task.

However, my favorite member of the ill-fated threesome was Kestie Morassi. I found her performance as a victim of both physical and psychological torture to be disturbingly believable, and she was so sympathetic that it made her final moments in the film even more heart-wrenching. But perhaps the hook of the whole movie is John Jarratt as our antagonist. When we meet him initially, he is very likable and has a winning personality, but he transforms into a sleazy, disgusting rapist and torturer. Jarratt is convincing as both, and although I'm sure he's a nice guy in real life, I don't think I'd want to be stuck with him on a lonely stretch of highway in the middle of nowhere. Especially if he had a Bowie knife and a sniper rifle.

Where the movie truly succeeds is Greg McLean's direction and writing, and Will Gibson's astounding cinematography. The shots of the horizon and various wildlife are nothing short of gorgeous, and it creates a surreal balance between the beauty of Australian nature and the hellish events depicted. Filmed on high-definition video, the movie has something of a gritty sheen that works to draw us in deeper to Mick's nasty, evil world.

The script, meanwhile, seemingly revels in misanthropy and misogyny. Even before things start going crazy, we're introduced to the idea that maybe people in the outback don't care much for women. In particular is a scene early in the movie where a biker (played by Andy McPhee) uncouthly tries to convince Ben to pimp out his two female companions. We also learn that Mick has no qualms with using his female victims as sex slaves, as evidenced by a bit of dialogue detailing the fate of a decaying corpse in a dark corner of the shack in which he has trapped Kristy.

And I believe it should be noted that outside of a party that opens the movie and the previously mentioned scene with the biker gang, nothing much happens for the first 35 minutes or so. While some may complain that the movie takes forever to get going, that wait actually works in the movie's favor, because it gives us a chance to get to know our three protagonists. That, combined with the documentary-style feeling, makes Wolf Creek just as similar to The Blair Witch Project as it is to movies like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Wrong Turn. The characters are not exactly three-dimensional, but after spending so much time with them, we feel like we know them and can sympathize with them, and it is that bond that makes their eventual fate all the more grueling to watch.

And then there's the character of Mick, who is an oddity. His role as something of a hunter could be seen as a nod to Richard Connell's classic short story The Most Dangerous Game. However, he is also strikingly similar to Rob Zombie's trio of killers from The Devil's Rejects. Mick is sadistic, brutal, and wholly unsympathetic, but he's such a captivating character that we can't help but like him a little. But unlike Zombie's characters, there is no catharsis for Mick. There is no grand sendoff set to a Lynyrd Skynyrd song. Mick merely disappears into the sunset, as if he were but one of a million urban legends and campfire ghost stories lost to the sands of time. His murders serve no larger purpose, and there is no real goal. He merely kills as if he were exterminating vermin, as if he were removing an annoying gopher that's been digging up his garden. There's no attempt to psychoanalyze him or explain why he kills, either; we just have to accept that things are the way they are for no reason and roll with it.

All this is enhanced by McLean's masterful direction. Many times during the movie, we know something bad is going to happen, but we have no idea when or how vicious it will be. That's suspense, folks, and Wolf Creek has it in spades. Take, for example, a scene in which a good Samaritan sits a thermos on the roof of his car while he fetches a blanket for a character. We hear a faint, nearly inaudible bang in the distance, and seconds later, we discover a bullet hole in the side of the thermos. What happens after that will send you ducking for cover. McLean also utilizes the vast emptiness of the outback to enhance the movie's feeling of loneliness and isolation, and it is assisted by the tense, moody musical score composed by François Tétaz. The music hit all the right notes (no pun intended), and helped to make the movie even more frightening.

Respected film critic Roger Ebert noted in a rare zero-star review that Wolf Creek gleefully lept across some imaginary line in the sand that separates the decent from the indecent, the well-adjusted from the depraved. He wrote, "There is a role for violence in film, but what the hell is the purpose of this sadistic celebration of pain and cruelty?" While his argument is certainly valid, and I agree that it is hard to justify cinematic violence when there's no real reason for it, I think Ebert should lighten up. Wolf Creek did serve a purpose in the long run, and that was to horrify its audience. That's what horror movies are supposed to do. To believe otherwise is to misunderstand how they work.

The moviegoing public sometimes needs a film to show the evil that hides in the shadows of the human heart and soul, and Wolf Creek is a reminder that there really are sick people out there getting their jollies from torturing and killing innocent people. I don't know if I would go as far as to call the movie a social commentary in that sense, since that would be a wee bit pretentious on my part, but it is most certainly a terrifying experience. And because it is both terrifying and excellently made, I'll give Wolf Creek a solid four stars. Check it out, if you have the stomach.

Final Rating: ****

King Kong (2005)

Remakes are a common concept among Hollywood filmmakers. Why think up a new story when you can just take a well-known one and put a new spin on it? The thing is, only a select few lay claim to being equal to or better than its source material. Sure, there are remakes out there that are actually good, but many simply find themselves being halfhearted attempts to cash in on an established property. I'll admit that not every remake can be as entertaining as David Cronenberg's The Fly or John Carpenter's The Thing, but a lot of them are just plain disappointing.

But in an era of mediocre remakes, Academy Award-winning filmmaker Peter Jackson crafted a great one as the follow-up to his epic trilogy based on J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings novels. With his Lord of the Rings crew and a new cast of characters in tow, Jackson returned to his home country of New Zealand to craft a film born of the fond memories of his childhood, the remake of one of the most famous monster movies ever produced: King Kong. The second retelling of a story about a beauty and the beast whose heart she stole, Jackson has created a remake worthy of at least a portion of the respect Merian Cooper's original film is given. So let's get to the review, shall we?

We begin in New York City circa 1933. The city is in the grip of the Great Depression, and among the impoverished masses is Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts). A struggling vaudevillian actress who has grown accustomed to performing shows in front of more empty seats than people, Ann is heartbroken to discover that she's been forced out of her job after the lack of income forces her theater to permanently close its doors.

Desperate to find work, she stops local casting director Charles Weston (David Pittu) on the street and hits him up for a role in an upcoming production written by her favorite playwright, Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody). Weston says the role has already been cast, but sympathizing with her misfortune, he gives her the address of another job, suggesting that she only work there long enough to get whatever money she needs.

Shortly thereafter, we are introduced to Carl Denham (Jack Black), an entrepreneurial filmmaker whose penchant for "safari films" isn't exactly winning over his investors. They'd rather him make more profitable romantic movies, or at least include a few naked jungle girls. When Denham discovers his investors are planning to sell off his latest work as stock footage instead of funding his next movie, he and his assistant Preston (Colin Hanks) steal the footage and jump into the first taxi they can.

Once on their way, Denham tells Preston to assemble their crew so they can leave within the hour for their location shoot. But being the bearer of bad news that he is, Preston informs Denham that their leading lady has quit because Preston couldn't bring himself to lie to her about their filming location. And to really narrow things down, any replacement they get will have to be a size four because the wardrobe department has finished all the costumes. Denham rattles off a number of actresses, but all of them are unavailable. He hops out of the taxi and begins a search for a new lead actress, leaving Preston to make sure everything else is in order.

Ann and Denham's paths fortuitously cross paths at a burlesque house, where they both arrive at the same time. Yeah, Weston sent her to a strip club to find work. Real class act, that guy. Denham notices her, and realizing she's the woman he's looking for, he follows her as she dejectedly walks away. The starving Ann soon arrives at a fruit stand and gets herself into trouble when the stand's proprietor catches her stealing an apple, but Denham promptly steps in, holding up a coin to pay for it. He takes her to a café to talk to her, but promptly kills any trust she may have had in him by asking if she's a size four.

This, of course, is precisely the thing you shouldn't as a lady as soon as you meet her. Ann thinks he's looking for a good time and she just isn't that kind of girl. Denham reassures her that he means no harm, only wanting to offer her a role in his movie. As he explains the intended role to her, she shows enough interest to convince Denham that she'd be a perfectly sympathetic star. Unfortunately for him, Ann graciously turns him down, explaining that she's a comedian at heart. Starring in a dramatic picture is out of the question. But when Denham fleetingly mentions that Jack Driscoll is putting the finishing touches on the script, she just can't say no.

They arrive at the docks soon thereafter, where Denham introduces Ann to Preston and their ship's captain, Englehorn (Thomas Kretschmann). Preston pulls Denham aside and tells him that his investors have sent the police after him for stealing his footage from them, prompting Denham to send Ann on board while urging Captain Englehorn to set sail immediately despite the lack of proper paperwork. Denham rushes aboard to search for a place to hide, bumping into Jack in his cabin to review the script. And much to Denham's chagrin, Denham has only completed the first fifteen pages of the script. But Jack is in a hurry, as he has an appointment with his true love: the theater.

As Jack starts to leave, Denham surprises him by offering $2,000 as payment. After getting stalled with a few poorly written checks, Jack heads for the door, choosing to wait until Denham returns to accept his pay. But thanks to Denham's stalling, Jack misses his opportunity to get off the boat before it sets sail, leaving the dock mere moments before the police arrive. He even considers jumping overboard, but hesitates, leaving Denham to quip, "If you truly loved the theater, you would have jumped."

As the ship's voyage gets underway, the ship's first mate Hayes (Evan Parke) leads Jack to the cargo hold, since all of the actual cabins are spoken for. There are cages everywhere, and when ne'er-do-well cabin boy Jimmy (Jamie Bell) accidentally reveals Captain Englehorn's stash of chloroform, Jack learns that their captain is an expert in capturing exotic animals. He pays it no mind, however, and picks out a rather large cage that he'll call home while he finishes the script.

It is during one of Jack's brainstorming sessions with Denham that their fearless leader finally divulges that the ship's true destination is not Singapore, but a mythical uncharted territory named Skull Island. The little snoop that he is, Jimmy hears the whole conversation and relays the news to Hayes. So he's a thief (as evidenced by a scene in which he got caught stealing Jack's fancy fountain pen), a snoop, and a snitch. I'm surprised the other sailors haven't thrown him overboard yet. Hayes confronts Denham about it, recounting a tale of a drifter who had been found out to sea. He told an ominous story of a island with a massive wall, but before he could divulge any more information, he killed himself.

As the ship's voyage progresses, as does the filming of Denham's movie. As production moves forward, Jack finds himself less than impressed with the performance of egotistical star Bruce Baxter (Kyle Chandler), who often improvises instead of sticking to the script like asked. However, Jack is vocal in his satisfaction with Ann's performance, and before long, the pair are head over heels for one another. The guy even writes a play for her to star in. Alas, their romantic bliss is cut short when Captain Englehorn alters course after discovering that there's a warrant out for Denham's arrest. Unfortunately, the ship gets caught in an impenetrable fog bank and eventually crashes into a gigantic rock wall off the coast of ― where else ― Skull Island. The ship is stranded, and as the ship's crew tries to remedy this unenviable situation, Denham takes his film crew onto shore.

As they arrive, they quickly learn that "Skull Island" is an appropriate name, because not only is the shore full of rocks that resemble skulls, but a number of very real human skulls line the path that the landing party follows. Denham's party soon lands in a village bordered by an enormous wall, the one alluded to earlier. The village is seemingly deserted, populated only buy skeletons that appear as if they were part of ritual sacrifices. Denham discovers that the town is very much inhabited, but the natives that call Skull Island home aren't exactly thrilled about having visitors. An unlucky member of the landing party finds himself the recipient of a spear through the back as the natives attack, killing more members of the crew while showing a very disturbing interest in Ann.

Captain Englehorn and his sailors finally show up with guns and chase the villagers off, and both the sailors and film crew return to the boat and get ready to leave. But upon nightfall, a native slips on board and kidnaps Ann, who is dragged back to the island and prepared as the newest sacrifice to the creatures that live on the other side of the wall. Tied up and alone, the frightened Ann is even more terrified to discover just what she has been sacrificed to: a 25-foot-tall gorilla named Kong (Andy Serkis, via motion capture technology).

However, the native that kidnapped Ann made the mistake of leaving a necklace behind for Jack to find. He informs the sailors, who immediately drop what they're doing and start a rescue mission. Ann's rescuers arrive at the wall just as the giant ape snatches up his quarry and disappears back into the jungle of which he is king. Jack and a number of armed crewmen venture behind the wall after Ann and Kong, while Denham, Baxter, and some of the film crew tag along with the intention of continuing his movie's production.

Once past the wall, Captain Englehorn gives them twenty-four hours to return before he and the ship leaves for home with or without them. Unfortunately for them, the island's jungle isn't exactly the happiest place on Earth. Thanks to Denham's inherent desire to finish his movie no matter what, he and Baxter accidentally anger a herd of brontosauruses into stampeding. And just their luck, a number of hungry velociraptors get in on the fun too. Once they get to safety (after a few members of the group have been trampled or eaten), they stop to regroup, with Baxter's cowardly ways coming to the surface as he suggests they turn around and assume Ann didn't survive. Driscoll calls him on being a chicken, and takes the rest of the crew to continue the search.

Meanwhile, Ann has survived, and has been brought to Kong's home high atop a cliff overlooking the ocean. Ann pulls out some of her vaudeville act in an attempt to keep him from killing her, which actually does work in amusing him. Kong humorously gets in on the act by knocking her down over and over, but when she yells at him and tells him to stop, Kong throws a temper tantrum and leaves. And smartly, she takes the opportunity to escape. While she runs for her freedom, the rescue party runs into Kong while trying to cross a fallen tree that bridges a crevasse. Not too happy after the argument with Ann, Kong dumps the tree and everyone on it into the ravine. The fall kills most of the crewmen, and the survivors find themselves at the mercy of giant man-eating bugs and maggots.

With only Jack, Denham, and Jimmy left, Baxter and Captain Englehorn come to their rescue. Jack continues his determined search for Ann while the rest of the crew return to the ship, with Denham (whose camera and film were destroyed in the fall down the ravine) deciding that if he can't have his movie, he's going to capture Kong.

While all this is going on, Ann runs afoul of a trio of angry Tyrannosaurus Rexes, but Kong returns in the nick of time. He manages to fight off and kill all three T-Rexes, then puts Ann on his shoulder and walks back to his cliff, where they watch a lovely sunset and she falls asleep in his gigantic paw. It is up on the cliff where Jack finds them, and he and Ann make a break for it while Kong defends himself from a mob of overgrown bats. Kong catches up to them as they run through the jungle, where the remaining crewmen are waiting to spring a trap for Kong. The trap only serves to slow Kong down, and at the last minute, Denham knocks him out by smashing a bottle of chloroform across Kong's forehead. Standing above the unconscious primate, he announces his plans to make Kong a Broadway attraction as "the eighth wonder of the world."

Months later in New York City, Ann has become an anonymous chorus line dancer after refusing large sums of money to assist with Denham's exploitation of Kong, while the lovelorn Jack watches a production of the play he wrote for her. Unable to watch the play without Ann in the lead role, Jack leaves and rushes to another theater, where Denham has succeeded in putting the shackled Kong on display in front of a large audience. The show also features an elaborate stage show featuring actors playing the natives and Bruce Baxter taking all of Jack's glory as "the man who hunted down the mighty Kong." The grand finale of the show features a fake Ann presented before Kong, which, when combined with the annoying popping of the media's camera flashbulbs, only serves to piss the big guy off.

Kong breaks free from his restraints and begins demolishing the theater. But when he recognizes Jack as the man that stole away his beloved, Kong follows Jack into Times Square and runs amok in his frantic search to reclaim Ann. Jack decides to lead him to her, commandeering a taxicab and tearing through the streets of Manhattan with Kong hot on his heels. He finally catches up with Jack, but before he can squash his human foe into a greasy spot on the pavement, Kong sees Ann and calms down. He scoops her up and takes her to Central Park, where they have a brief moment of happiness sliding around on a frozen pond.

Their fun is short-lived, however, as the military breaks it up with gunfire. With Ann in hand, Kong bounces around across the skyscrapers of Manhattan, escaping to the Empire State Building at sunrise. But once again, their happiness is cut short by six Navy biplanes firing at Kong. The story comes to a head in a recreation of one of Hollywood's most legendary scenes, as Kong makes one last stand atop the Empire State Building against the planes that seek to bring him down.

Clocking in at around three hours and seven minutes, King Kong is twice the length of the original film. This is the biggest problem with the movie; it just runs far too long. Even the end credits run long, contributing nearly ten minutes of the movie's total running time. Most directors remove or shorten scenes from their movies to tighten the pacing or keep it at a respectable running time, but it seems as if director Peter Jackson kept nearly everything he shot. There's a deleted scene or two out there (one of which turned up in TV commercials for the movie), but for the most part, I don't really think very much was lost in the editing room. Maybe Jackson forgot that most people would get a little restless if stuck in a theater for three hours. Maybe he didn't want a very big "deleted scenes" feature on the DVD release. I don't know.

A movie this long isn't so bad on home video, because you can hit the pause button and take a potty break, get a snack, or whatever, then come back and pick up where you left off. But in a theater, you're going to be looking at your watch after about two and a half hours, wondering if and when this thing going to end. While I don't have a problem with long movies per se, King Kong has a few moments that are exciting and entertaining at first, but become tedious after a while because they just keep going and going and going like it was the Energizer Bunny.

However, despite the movie being far too long for its own good, Jackson's direction is very good. For a guy that got his start directing gory low-budget horror movies, Jackson certainly knows how to make an epic. In association with the cinematography of Andrew Lesnie, King Kong is a visual tour de force. Jackson utilizes creative camera angles, such as the point-of-view shots from the biplanes, to put the audience right there in the action. However, Jackson overuses slow-motion setups until they become annoying. You might be able to get away with it a few times, but there's a certain point where a line gets crossed. And when Jackson decided to draw out Denham spelling the word "skull," he gleefully hopped right over that line.

The movie's "realism" also came under fire in various reviews around the time of its initial release, but there is a certain suspension of disbelief that should quell some of their complaints. However, I do wonder about one thing. How would Kong be able to jostle poor tiny Ann around as he does without hurting her? As much as she gets thrown around, I'm surprised she didn't end up with a broken neck (or a major case of whiplash, at the very least). But then again, the movie is about a 30-foot gorilla that fights dinosaurs in the South Pacific before fighting planes atop a skyscraper in New York City. So I guess I shouldn't let a crazy little thing like the laws of physics get in the way of having a good time.

The script, penned by Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Philippa Boyens, isn't all that bad. It's a far improvement over the original script from 1933. The characters are much more well-rounded, and it succeeds at telling a better story. Though it uses the 1933 classic as its blueprint, King Kong also draws inspiration from the 1976 remake by developing a delicate, two-way relationship between Kong and the film's female lead. Fay Wray's Ann Darrow was merely a frightened object of Kong's lust, while Naomi Watts's Ann Darrow views Kong as her protector. It seemed to me that if Kong were human, Ann would pick him over Jack any day.

The Ann/Kong relationship is developed through numerous scenes, each marvelous in their own way. From Ann performing a humorous dance routine for Kong and watching a sunset atop a cliff, to their playfully tender moment in Central Park and the sweet sunrise atop the Empire State Building, I found the onscreen chemistry between Naomi Watts and her computer-animated simian friend more likeable and enjoyable than many human couples in romantic movies.

It is not only a testament to Naomi Watts's ability as an actress, as she had to share the screen with someone she couldn't see, but it is a testament to Andy Serkis's ability to convey emotions with simple movements. He doesn't so much play Kong as he does provide the body language for the effects team, but Serkis gives Kong a humanity not seen in the original movie, and it set up the necessary connection that needed to be made between the screen and the viewer. Because if Kong was just another monkey, it wouldn't have been as engaging.

With the exception of the Kong/Ann relationship, perhaps the movie's strongest point is the cast. Of the three lead characters, Naomi Watts is the best of them. Not only is the role very physical and requiring Watts to interact with a cast member who isn't there, but she must also travel a diverse emotional range. From fear to acceptance to caring, Watts hits the nail right on the head with her absolutely wonderful performance.

Adrien Brody does what he can, but the role isn't really a lot. He doesn't get to contribute much, outside of falling in love with Ann, running around the island, getting into a car chase, and riding in an Empire State Building elevator. He's not exactly bad, but Brody isn't given all that much to work with. And in the most unusual instance of casting against type I've seen in a while, Jack Black is quite effective as Carl Denham. I've seen the role described as a cross between Cecil B. DeMille and P.T. Barnum, and I think it's a very fitting description. Black primarily plays the role straight, but there are traces of his comedic personality that shine through on occasion.

While King Kong isn't exactly the best movie of 2005, it's definitely very good. Although it runs far too long and runs the risk of being boring, it proves that in spite of the disappointing remake of Godzilla, movies about old-school gigantic monsters can be good. I doubt Jackson's retelling of the story will overtake the 1933 version in the minds and hearts of moviegoers, but it definitely shows that there are times when remakes can honor the legacy of its unsurpassable source material. It's an entertaining movie if you can forgive the three-hour running time, so fans of movie monsters will find a fun movie to watch..

Final Rating: ****