When A Stranger Calls (1979)

Urban legends have been around for quite some time. These modern versions of the tall tale often take shape as campfire tales, Internet chain mail, and stories heard from "a friend of a friend." Many of the more popular urban legends are the tales of terror: stories about hauntings, gruesome murders, deceased pets. One such urban legend served as the basis for the 1979 horror film When A Stranger Calls. Inspired by one of many urban legends centering around a terrorized babysitter, When A Stranger Calls has become a popular entry into the realm of '70s horror movies thanks to the minor influence it has had on the genre since then. Though it isn't quite as notable as other movies from the decade, I wonder if it should have more attention than it gets.

Jill Johnson (Carol Kane) is an ordinary high school student, hired by Dr. Alexander Mandrakis (Carmen Argenziano) and his wife (Rutanya Alda) to babysit their two children while they enjoy a night out on the town. The children are already tucked in for the night, so Jill naturally assumes it'll be a slow night of homework and chatting with friends on the telephone. But this is a horror movie; things don't always work out that way. During the night, Jill begins to get repeated phone calls that initially begin with the caller hanging up as soon as she says hello. The calls become more and more frequent, and Jill finally decides to call the police for some assistance. The officer that answers her, Sgt. Sacker (William Boyett), merely tells Jill that if she could find a loud whistle and blow it into the receiver next time he calls, he'll probably stop.

The calls continue, as the anonymous caller begins asking Jill if she has checked the children. She calls the police again, and Sgt. Sacker tells her that they'll trace the next call from the station as long as Jill keeps him on the phone for at least sixty seconds. And call back does the anonymous voice, and Jill tries her hand at striking up a conversation. This in turn creates the classic bit of dialogue:

Jill: "What do you want?"
The caller: "Your blood... all over me."

He hangs up as soon as she announces she called the police, and Sgt. Sacker immediately calls to inform Jill that the calls are not coming from an outside line... they're coming from inside the house. The caller opens the door at the top of the steps, just as Jill bolts for the front door and discovers the police on the front porch.

Fast forward seven years into the future. The caller, identified as a British merchant seaman named Curt Duncan (Tony Beckley), has been committed to a mental institution following that fateful night. It turns out that he mutilated both children with his bare hands, and called from the house's second phone line with the intention of killing Jill as soon as she checked on the children. Maybe it's a good thing she decided to hang out in the living room all night. But seven years have passed, and Duncan has escaped from the institution. Arresting officer John Clifford (Charles Dunning) has gotten out of the force and into the private investigation business, and Dr. Mandrakis hires him to track Duncan down and maybe kill him if he feels up to it.

From here, we cut to some cheap San Francisco pool hall named Torchy's. I didn't really have to say the name of the place, because it's a minor, unimportant detail. But come on, the place is named Torchy's. Either that's the coolest name for a bar ever, or the lamest. I'm not sure yet. Anyway, Duncan strolls into the place and starts flirting with a gruff barfly named Tracy Fuller (Colleen Dewhurst). She isn't exactly too taken by his advances, but he keeps on pressing anyway. He's nothing if not dedicated to what he does. But that dedication also manages to annoy one of the other patrons, who more or less defends Tracy's honor by beating Duncan bloody and throwing him out into the street.

Duncan ends up following Tracy to her apartment and lets himself in, and tries pulling the "woe is me" card. But she ain't having it, and she boots him out the door. That's what she should have done to begin with. Unless she has no problem with random weirdoes just waltzing into her apartment uninvited and making themselves at home. Anyway, he tries to get back into the house a little more forcefully, but gives that up when he doesn't get very far. I guess he's not as dedicated to his craft as I initially believed.

Shortly thereafter, Detective Clifford is out hitting the streets in search of Duncan. He follows a trail of clues to Torchy's, where he learns that his quarry was there harassing a patron the night before. He gets the patron's name and heads over to Tracy's apartment to speak to her. And let's say that ol' Clifford isn't the most polite person there is. The guy practically kicks her door down trying to get inside and speak with her. Then he has the nerve to act surprised when she doesn't believe he's a real detective. He somehow manages to talk her into letting him inside, and he tells her the story of the two Mandrakis kids. Clifford also suggests that she contact him if she runs into him again. If it were me, I would suggest that she purchase a firearm and shoot him on sight. But I didn't write the movie, so what do I know.

Later in the evening, Tracy returns to her apartment after a few drinks at Torchy's, only to discover that Duncan has broken into her apartment. He restrains her and tries explaining that he only wants to be her friend, but she manages to let out a scream, which prompts Clifford – who had been keeping tabs on her from a distance – to bust in and break things up. Duncan makes it out the back door and into an alley, managing to get several blocks away before Clifford can even get outside. Maybe if Duncan was running to the closest McDonald's, Clifford would have got him. Not to imply the guy is fat or anything, but I'm just saying.

Sometime later that night, Duncan acquires a bed at a homeless shelter. And I don't think he's doing too well, because he starts having flashbacks to killing the children and calling Jill, which prompts him to start having a nervous breakdown. I think it was a nervous breakdown; he just started sobbing hysterically while totally naked in the shelter's communal bathroom. Either way, I think any doubts regarding his insanity have been erased with this scene. But in any event, Clifford manages to get a few clues from some wino and tracks Duncan to the shelter. But like last time, Duncan manages to slip out through the shelter's back halls and elude Clifford once again.

So now that that's out of the way, let's find out what's been going on elsewhere. The seven years that have passed have seen Jill Johnson become Jill Lockhart, a mother of two children (Richard Bail and Sara Damman) whose husband Stephen (Steven Anderson) is a yuppie dork with a goofy haircut that makes him look like Weird Al Yankovic. Though to be honest, making that comparison is insulting to Weird Al. Stephen comes home from work late one afternoon and proclaims that he got a big promotion, and to celebrate, they leave the kids with a babysitter while they go enjoy a fancy dinner. While they're enjoying themselves and having a good time, the maître d' informs Jill that she has a phone call at the front desk. She puts the receiver to her ear, at which point she hears a voice from her past: "Have you checked the children?" Duncan has somehow found Jill once again, and the movie comes full circle as Clifford must stop Duncan before he can claim his intended victim from seven years prior.

I asked at the beginning of the review if When A Stranger Calls should get more attention than it does. And to be perfectly honest, I do not know. The middle hour is both tedious and useless, because it doesn't really lead anywhere. The movie would have been better served following Jill for the entire movie, because the storyline that we're taken down changes the movie from a straight horror film into something resembling a poorly done crime drama.

Really, if you watch the first twenty minutes and final twenty minutes, and skipped that plodding, go-nowhere second act, then you'd have seen a movie that wasn't too bad at all. And I point the finger of blame squarely at the screenplay penned by Steve Feke and Fred Walton. To be succinct, their script is ten pounds of crap in a five-pound bag. It probably doesn't help that Feke's résumé also includes such cinematic stinkburgers like Poltergeist III and Mac and Me.

The characters are so flat and one-dimensional, it's almost insulting. It's as if they were placeholders for characters. Clifford is an abrasive, obnoxious jerk despite being the hero, Duncan is more pathetic than psychotic, and the character of Tracy is thoroughly unnecessary. The only character that's remotely likable is Jill, and that's only because we're not given enough time to hate her like the others.

Even then, Jill comes across as being stupid and irresponsible. She continues to gets threatening calls, but she did almost nothing. Sure, it was smart of her to call the cops, but outside of that, she spent every last minute answering these calls. Why not call someone's parents – whether it be hers or the Mandrakises – right out of the gate? Why not call a friend and ask them to come over and keep her company? Why not even do her job and check the freaking children?

While doing that would make the most sense, the whole movie would have been ruined. She has to sit on the couch and continually answer these threatening telephone calls because if she does check the children, Duncan kills her and either he moves to another babysitter like a typical slasher movie, or the movie grinds to a screeching halt. As convenient as her not doing that may be for the story, it doesn't prevent the segment from becoming illogical and unrealistic.

Walton's direction, on the other hand, is not too bad. The first twenty minutes make for one of the more popular sequences in horror movie fandom, and the direction is a large part of it. The first twenty minutes are wonderful, as Walton sets a frighteningly eerie stage as Jill is all alone in this enormous house, yet trapped by a fear that becomes almost claustrophobic and confining. There are two moments in the movie where Walton's direction is particularly notable. One is a quite suspenseful bit where Jill hunts down the source of a bizarre cracking sound, only to discover that it's the refridgerator's ice machine. Ninety percent of the time, that would be used as a cheap scare, like a cat jumping out of a closet, but the way Walton sets it up makes it a very tense moment.

The second (and my personal favorite) portion of the segment occurs at the end, when we discover that Duncan is in the house. Jill makes a run for the front door, and just as she begins to unlock it, a door at the top of the steps opens. All we see is light from inside the room shining onto a far wall, a light which is soon filled by Duncan's shadow peering down the steps. My description does not do it justice, as this particular moment is fabulously frightening. But as the movie progresses, the direction – along with Donald Peterman's cinematography – becomes akin to just about any random cop show from the '70s before returning to a scarier horror-inclined style for the finale. However, the movie does boast an impressive, terrifying score by Dana Kaproff, though the music does get a little overbearing at times.

Lastly, the acting is give or take. Charles Dunning is supposed to be the hero, but he's just a mean, thoroughly unpleasant bully to everyone he meets. The guy treats everyone around him like dirt, and we're expected to root for him? The character isn't the least bit sympathetic, and Dunning's performance does it no favors. Besides, it doesn't help that the guy has two scenes where he chases the villain on foot, despite being a rather corpulent individual. Dunning looked like if he put any more effort into running, he'd keel over from a heart attack. I'll admit that I'm not exactly the paradigm of proper health and fitness, but couldn't they have casted a guy who was a little more in shape?

Tony Beckley's performance – the last of his career before his death due to cancer on April 19, 1980 – isn't as scary as perhaps it should have been. While I have no problems with him at all in the opening, he becomes more of a depressed, simpering wuss as the movie progresses. In only one scene after his big reveal does he actually come across as having a few screws loose, but it doesn't help anything because it's too late into the movie to really prove anything. However, I will say that he did the best with what he was given, since the script is mostly to blame for a lot of the flaws.

The best performance in the movie would have to belong to Carol Kane, mostly due to the process of elimination. Kane has garnered most of her fame from playing daffy characters like Simka Dahblitz-Gravas on Taxi and Miracle Max's wife in The Princess Bride, but her work here as the harried would-be murder victim is not bad. While the character of Jill is not exactly the brightest bulb in the lamp, Kane is believable as she moves from somewhat dismayed into terrified out of her mind.

If contained to itself, the first twenty minutes of the movie would have been up there with Halloween as one of the best movies of its ilk. The entire section of the movie is absolutely enthralling, some of the best horror filmmaking I've seen. Sure, there's the big gaping holes in its logic, but that isn't all that distracting. Want to know how good the opening act is? It directly inspired the first thirteen minutes of Wes Craven's love letter to horror films, Scream. Don't believe me? Watch both scenes side-by-side, and tell me if this doesn't seem a little familiar: A pretty blonde girl all alone, getting increasingly threatening phone calls from a deranged psychopath hiding somewhere in her house. The psychopath has already killed someone in the house, and is now after her. Yeah, it could just as easily be an homage to Black Christmas as well, but the similarities are there.

I know I've been singing the praises of that segment of the movie for the entire review, but really, it's probably the only really favorable thing I can say about the movie. The movie would have perhaps worked best if the opening had been included in a movie similar to Trilogy of Terror or Creepshow, but as it stands now, it's merely a great ingredient in a mediocre stew. But as always, your mileage may vary.

Final Rating: **½

The Descent (2005)

Horror films are designed to push the emotional buttons of those that watch them, to make their audience go past the boundaries of their "comfort zones" and confront the terrors that lie deep within the shadows of the human imagination. However, a certain phenomenon has sprung up in Hollywood in recent years: the PG-13 horror movie. While some horror movies can still be effective with a PG-13 rating, many are constricted by the rating, unable or unwilling to be truly terrifying so the movie can better serve teenage moviegoers with more delicate sensibilities.

The uprising of tamer, less offensive horror has also seen a rise in disenfranchised horror movie fans looking overseas for movies that they can get behind. Japanese filmmaker Takashi Miike has been quickly gaining a cult following in America, and international movies such as 28 Days Later, Shaun of the Dead, High Tension, and Wolf Creek have all received enthusiastic responses when released in the United States. Another of these imports was Neil Marshall's The Descent. First released in the United Kingdom in the summer of 2005, The Descent made the voyage to American theaters a year later to critical accolades and modest box office success. And folks, it just may be one of the best imported horror films yet.

One year after surviving a traumatic car accident that took the lives of her husband and daughter, Sarah (Shauna Macdonald) is still recovering. To help move on with her life, Sarah's friend Beth (Alex Reid) convinces her to go on their annual thrillseeking adventure as planned. Instead of whitewater rafting in Ireland like the year before, Juno (Natalie Mendoza), the third part of their daredevil trio, has lined up a caving expedition in the North Carolina mountains. Sarah and Beth meet up with Juno at a cabin in the woods, where we're introduced to the other three members of their party: tomboyish daredevil Holly (Nora-Jane Noone), and sisters Sam (Myanna Buring) and Rebecca (Saskia Mulder).

The six camp out in their cabin for the night, then head out for the cave the next morning. They're not very deep into the cave before a particular corridor collapses, sealing off the way they came in. And that's when a bombshell gets dropped. What they initially believed was a well-scouted, easily navigable cave system is revealed by Juno to be uncharted territory. She found the cave herself, and thought the group would be brought closer together by being the first to explore it. This goes over with the other five like a fart in church, especially now that for all they know, they're trapped.

The six continue onward in search of another exit, but when Holly mistakes a glowing phosphorus deposit for daylight, she takes a pretty nasty fall and fractures her leg. But unfortunately for them, Holly's broken bones are the least of their worries. As the others patch up her wound, Sarah wanders off and sees what appears to be a very pale man drinking from a puddle. So either the kid from Powder went feral, or something is really wrong. It disappears when it senses her, and when she attempts to tell the other five, they merely dismiss it as a hallucination. But it isn't long before they find themselves under attack by a number of deformed, bloodthirsty creatures just like what Sarah described. Stuck two miles underground with no known exits, the six must fight for their lives and find a way out.

I've developed a theory that perhaps the horror genre's strongest presence in the twenty-first century lies beyond the borders of the United States. With The Descent, that theory is further reinforced. The movie is suspenseful, frightening, and absolutely enthralling. It is an example of everything that a horror movie should have: brilliant direction, a tight script, believable acting, terrifying antagonists, and a claustrophobic atmosphere. It is a truly scary and effective piece of filmmaking, and should be required viewing for aspiring horror filmmakers.

Writer/director Neil Marshall makes the most his sophomore film (following his highly-praised 2002 werewolf movie Dog Soldiers), and his work here is exemplary. Despite the plot's striking similarities to the horribly mediocre American movie The Cave, Marshall's screenplay is deceptively layered, and there is much going on beneath its simple exterior. The film's coda — both the original British one and the shortened American one — leave the viewer wondering about the deeper meanings what we have just seen. While I don't want to give anything away, one could entertain the notions that the ending could be offhandedly similar to High Tension's twist, or that it could be akin to Carnival of Souls or Ambrose Bierce's 1890 short story An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.

Marshall's direction is also stellar. We stay outside of the cave for the first twenty minutes of the movie, getting to know our characters, giving each of them a personality and establishing their relationships with one another. From there, Marshall spends the next half-hour building a chillingly claustrophobic atmosphere that can frighten even the most jaded of horror fans.

He radically shifts the vibe in a much different direction at about fifty minutes into the movie, as Marshall leads us down a much more visceral road upon the first attack by the creatures. During many of the attack scenes, Sam McCurdy's cinematography is shaky and the editing is frantic. The wild camerawork and editing could be seen as echoing the confusion the characters feel. We have a hard time getting a grasp on some of the action, something I'm sure the characters are going through as well.

Marshall, with the help of McCurdy's camerawork, gives The Descent a certain visual flair that does wonders to set the movie's tone. The outdoor scenes prior to entering the cave look like the colors have been washed out, seemingly beset upon by a grey/white haze that gives these scenes an eerie dreamlike quality. On the other hand, the scenes in the cave are lit either by yellow flashlights, red flares, green and orange glowsticks, or the occasional night vision thanks to the viewfinder of the group's camcorder. The lighting (or lack thereof) not only makes it easier for things to pop out of the darkness, but when used in collaboration with the tight sets, it makes the atmosphere much more terrifying. Unfortunately, the dim lighting also makes it tough to tell who is who in certain scenes. Not being able to tell the actresses apart can be pretty distracting, as some viewers might concentrate on figuring out who's in the scene instead of being caught up in the action.

The score by David Julyan is also superb, managing to be intense without being invasive or overbearing. Julyan's music is ambient and moody prior to the appearance of the creatures, enhancing the tension that Marshall is building. And after the monsters attack, the score retains some of its ambiance while becoming primal, almost schizophrenic. It was everything a horror movie score should be: supportive of the film while still managing to be scary in its own right. I similarly liked the makeup effects. Though the are concealed in darkness or low lighting much of the time (which also helps to mask any budgetary shortcomings), the creatures are very well done, as are other effects like Holly's broken leg.

But in a movie such as this, the acting is just as crucial to the movie's success as direction or special effects are. As I said before, it's rough to tell the actresses apart in some scenes, but when you can, they're great. I was especially drawn to Shauna Macdonald, Natalie Mendoza, and Nora-Jane Noone. Noone is humorous and engaging, while Mendoza's layered performance made her character that much more mysterious. But of the three I named, perhaps Macdonald was the best. She hits all the right emotional buttons, paralleling Carrie White as she transitions from an emotional wreck during most of the movie into a blood-drenched killer of monsters near the end.

Online film critic James Berardinelli wrote in his review, "The Descent isn't perfect, but it gets a lot of things right." I'm inclined to agree with that statement. The Descent is violent, harrowing, and absolutely terrifying. Not once does it show any mercy, living up to its name by taking we the viewer on an unrelenting descent into terror that reiterates my belief that horror in Europe and Asia is currently on a level far beyond that of American horror. While the movie is most definitely graphic, it is not the only thing that Marshall brings to the table. Quite a few filmmakers are satisfied with drowning their movie in gallons of blood and guts and calling it a horror movie, while Marshall proves that some directors remember that being disturbing is just as important as being disgusting. The film is everything that a horror movie should be, and for that, I give The Descent four and a half stars. And I can guarantee that after seeing this, you'll never catch me in a cave again. Not without machine guns and an exit strategy, anyway.

Final Rating: ****½

Silent Hill (2006)

Among the many trends that have been picked up by Hollywood in recent years, one of the most controversial has been the idea of movies based on popular video games. Unfortunately but probably deservedly, the genre has earned little if any respect thanks to many adaptations that are thoroughly disappointing if not insulting to fans of the source material. While some find financial success, many (if not all) are derided by critics and gamers. I mean, the last video game movie that I can recall getting any kind of props was the first Mortal Kombat movie, and that was back in 1995.

In recent years, many gamers have turned their noses up at game-to-film translations such as Paul W.S. Anderson's Resident Evil movies while cursing the name of Uwe Boll, but Brotherhood of the Wolf director Christophe Gans and Pulp Fiction co-writer Roger Avery may have actually made a movie that goes against the "video game movies suck" stereotype with their adaptation of Silent Hill. Based on the series of survival horror games produced by Konami, Silent Hill serves notice that movies inspired by video games could actually be good.

Sharon Da Silva (Jodelle Ferland) is a troubled little girl. She is plagued by reoccurring and uncontrollable incidents of sleepwalking and night terrors that she retains no memory of. Her adoptive parents, Rose (Radha Mitchell) and Christopher (Sean Bean), draw ever more worried by Sharon's repeated cries of "Home! Home! Silent Hill!" during these night terrors. Sharon couldn't possibly have called Silent Hill home because it was abandoned before she was born, its population being driven away in the 1970s by a massive underground coal seam fire that continues to burn thirty years later.

After one particularly harrowing occurrence where Sharon nearly sleepwalks right off a cliff, Rose and Christopher are both in agreement that their daughter is in need of some serious help. While Christopher naturally believes that some therapy and a little medication might be in Sharon's best interests, Rose has a far different idea of what to do: take their daughter to Silent Hill. Despite the danger and her husband's desperate pleas to stay away, Rose takes Sharon on a road trip to Silent Hill with the hope that that being there will jog her memory and explain her nightly cries for a ghost town.

However, Rose will discover answers in a way she would never want to. She ends up in a car wreck just outside of town and is knocked out, awakening the next morning to find Sharon missing. She heads into Silent Hill on foot, frantically searching its deserted streets and finding only a curious cop (Laurie Holden) who followed her into town after an odd encounter at a gas station, and a mysterious woman named Dahlia (Deborah Kara Unger) who gives her cryptic warnings about Silent Hill.

Dahlia's warnings are unfortunately not on the nose enough for Rose, though. Her search for Sharon takes her deeper into the town, discovering that it might be the closest thing to a literal Hell on Earth. She encounters terrifying, bloodthirsty monsters that live in Silent Hill's shadows and a cult led by the puritanical Christabella (Alice Crige), everything somehow tying to Sharon's disappearance and the tragic fate of Dahlia's daughter Alessa (Ferland in a dual role).

While I have yet to actually play any of the games in the series at the time of this review, the knowledge I do have of the franchise makes me believe that Silent Hill is quite possibly the most faithful game-to-film translation there is. As it stands currently, it may also be the closest we'll get to seeing the imaginations of H.P. Lovecraft and David Lynch blended together in a mainstream Hollywood film.

Unfortunately, the reaction among gamers was decidedly mixed, while professional critics had no qualms ripping the movie to shreds. Roger Avery's script drew the majority of the critical ire, but maybe its detractors missed the point. I will admit that the dialogue seems trite or stilted at times, and there is perhaps an overbearing amount of exposition, but in keeping Silent Hill close to its survival horror roots, perhaps this was Avery's intent from the beginning.

However, the movie has too much exposition for its own good, spending too much time talking and appealing to fanboys than making itself accessible to the widest possible audience. We don't need to know every little detail about Silent Hill's history in one movie. Worry about making this one a hit, then give away a little more if there's a sequel. I'm also a little flummoxed regarding the ending of the movie. The coda is vague almost to the point of being indecipherable, and while it may be another "wink-wink" moment to fans of the games, it will just leave the uninitiated feeling confused or even a little gypped.

It also seems to me like one would be quite hard-pressed to find a traditional "good vs. evil" aspect in Silent Hill. The cult murders innocents under the guise of cleansing what they believe to be evil, Alessa's soul burns with a hatred for seemingly every living thing in Silent Hill's city limits, while Rose remains morally ambiguous for much of the movie. Really, it's not so much good vs. evil, as it is evil compounding evil.

And while the main focus of the film is Rose's search for Sharon, we are also given a concurrent subplot in which Christopher delves deeper into Silent Hill's horrific past while running afoul of a detective from a neighboring town (played by Kim Coates), who prefers the past staying buried. This subplot seems somewhat out of place and only pulls the viewer out of any sort of groove that the scenes in Silent Hill had been trying to maintain.

This subplot was supposedly added at the behest of the studio, who complained that the script had no men in it; this could be why the subplot feels tacked on and superfluous. With a little re-writing and some creative editing, the movie perhaps could have been reined in at a brisk and more palatable 105 minutes max.

So the writing might need a little polishing, but it's really secondary to the movie's motivation and intent. The driving force behind Silent Hill is its desire to absolutely screw with the head of the entire audience. It's chock full of mind-bending visuals, terrifying and intimidating monsters with a thirst for carnage and violence, and sound design that would make me wet my pants if I heard it in a haunted house. Christophe Gans's direction is quite wonderful.

Gans makes wonderful use of the cinematography of Dan Laustsen and the production design of Carol Spier to give us one of the most aesthetically scary horror films in recent memory. When combined with Patrick Tatopoulos's creature designs and Paul Jones's makeup, Gans makes sure everyone knows the doors of Hell are wide open and we're all invited. His direction could also even direct one to argue that Silent Hill is to video game movies what Robert Rodriguez's Sin City was to comic book movies, as the entire film plays out as if it were a live-action video game. There's the action, the moments of plot advancement that slow things down to give viewers a break, and even a moment akin to a video game loading screen.

But in a movie such as this, the acting is just as important as the behind-the-scenes aspect. And luckily for Silent Hill, the cast is strong. Radha Mitchell, who you may recognize from smaller movies like Pitch Black and Finding Neverland, is great here, playing the "mother searching for her daughter" role with a dedication that makes it believable.

Meanwhile, Sean Bean's talent is dreadfully wasted in his poorly-done subplot. While I certainly will not argue with filmmakers casting the very talented Bean for any role in any movie, he would have been better off had either the Rose or Christabella roles been rewritten as male characters for him. Laurie Holden is entertaining and engaging as Cybil, while Kim Coates is acceptable if not forgettable as the cop Christopher butts heads with. Tanya Allen was okay in her bit part as an ill-fated cult member, but her character annoyed me to the point that any performance probably couldn't have saved it.

Perhaps the best performances in the movie were from the three most important parts of Silent Hill's shadow world: Deborah Kara Unger, Alice Krige, and Jodelle Ferland. Though her role seems relatively minor, Unger plays Dahlia with intense conviction, giving the character a certain enigmatic charisma that makes her much more interesting to follow. Krige, as Christabella, gives the character an interesting spin as she alternates between being deceptively welcoming, patronizing, and manipulative and cold-blooded. It's as if Krige's "Borg Queen" character from Star Trek: First Contact had become David Koresh.

Though of all the cast members, the most noteworthy was Ferland. Only ten years old when the movie was filmed, Ferland is both charmingly sweet as Sharon and off-putting as Alessa. One moment in particular really stands out for me. Shortly prior to the climax, Alessa proclaims, "Now is the end of days, and I am the reaper." In the movie's promotional advertising, her voice when speaking the line is deep and authoritative. However, in the actual film, the line is delivered in Ferland's normal speaking voice.

This works in the movie's favor, as Ferland's wonderful delivery makes the line far more effective. If done in a booming voice that sounds like it should be coming out of Godzilla, the moment would have been scary enough. But personally, I thought the line was a lot more disturbing when spoken with Ferland's regular voice. It speaks highly of Ferland's acting ability, because with that one line, Alessa transforms from merely an unsettling young girl into pure malevolence in the shape of a 10-year-old child.

The score performed by Jeff Danna is also exceptionally notable. His score directly replicates the music composed by Akira Yamaoka for the four Silent Hill games, which lends a certain familiarity for fans while giving the film an intense auditory experience that is every bit as scary as what we see. The movie's costume design even shows signs of brilliance, evidenced by the subtle changes in Rose's clothes. Her outfit begins as a light gray, but as Rose is pulled deeper into Silent Hill's nightmarish world, it slightly changes until it becomes blood red by the time the credits roll. The differences in color are quite subtle, to the point that the changes don't even seem obvious until the movie's climax. But I thought it was a very cool detail that I actually really appreciated.

Gans and Avery's depiction of Silent Hill is of a town sitting atop a coal mine fire that has been burning for decades, which seems to be based upon the coal fires that continue to burn beneath Centralia, Pennsylvania. (In fact, the movie was briefly – and jokingly – renamed "Centralia" during pre-production.) Though while the coal fires burning beneath Silent Hill's streets may be grounded in some form of reality, everything else draws from a fantasy world that is both hellish and somehow oddly gorgeous in a gothic sort of way. Despite its flaws, I thought Silent Hill was one of the scarier films to come along the pike for the last couple of years, as well as being one big step forward in proving that movies based on video games can actually be good.

Final Rating: ***½

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