A tenuous Halloween connection to be sure, but it's a show about a serial killer. Close enough.
Also, spoilers. Duh.
Dexter is becoming a tad predictable by its 4th season. There's a season-long story arc involving a certain character, usually another serial killer, who ends up being dumped into the ocean by the final episode. At least this go-round spares us the usual "Dexter is in danger of being found out and is about to give up killing but then everything resolves itself in the end" episode. And while Dexter himself remains as fascinating as ever, the rest of the cast is becoming more and more expendable. I've always liked Deb, and Masuka remains dependable comic relief. But Batista and Laguerta are completely useless, Rita is a pain in the ass, and Quinn is a tenth of the antagonist that Doakes was. If there's any character on scripted television capable of X-Pac heat, it's Quinn.
Fortunately, the show still has some trump cards. One is Michael C. Hall. Big shocker; he's been awesome from day one. The other is John Lithgow. Lithgow has a reputation as a comedic actor these days but as anyone who's seen Blow Out knows, he can pull out the crazy. As this season's Big Bad, he'd be required to do much of the heavy lifting even if the suplots and their characters weren't so weak. Like Jimmy Smits before him, he's more than capable of pulling his own weight. Of course, Smits' Miguel Prado was more fiery and imposing than Lithgow's Trinity Killer, not to mention younger. Initially it's a bit silly to imagine a somewhat doughy older man as a legendary serial killer. Lithgow makes it work.
It doesn't hurt that his character is written as one sick sumbitch. Lila was crazy in that psycho-ex-girlfriend sense; Prado was a loose cannon. Trinity - the series' first true recurring serial murderer since the Ice Truck Killer - is a genuine psychopath. His dysfunction is responsible for one of the most twisted episodes since the first season, and by extension one of the best (envelope pushing is, after all, one of the reasons we watch Dexter): "Hungry Man." The theme of two opposing Thanksgivings makes for a good narrative in general, but the part of the holiday spent with Trinity's family is an awesome train wreck. From Trinity's teen daughter propositioning herself to Dexter, to Trinity calling his wife a cunt at the dinner table, to Dexter completely flipping out, it's compulsively watchable. After earlier lame-brained episodes showing Dexter trying to cope with suburbia that went nowhere, it's refreshing to see something so inspired and original. Also, Deb and Masuka are forced to be around children. Gold, Jerry, gold.
Then there's the series finale's big reveal: Rita pulls a Teri Bauer and gets herself killed in the final minutes. It wasn't a gut-punch ending for me, since I'd had it spoiled. Honestly, it was something of a relief. Rita had been bitchy and a perpetual thorn in Dexter's side for most of the season, having gone from sweet but damaged when she was initially introduced to constantly nagging. I'm intrigued by what the series does with the aftershocks of her murder. Myles McNutt lays out some very interesting potential directions, but from what little I've gleamed about the current season, it's business as usual for the show's structure. I still love Dexter - check that, I still love Dexter Morgan, and two or three other characters - but if the 5th season ends with the special guest star du jour wrapped in plastic on a table, my patience may have come to an end.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Halloween Horrorpocalypse: Severance
With the exception of Piranha 3D, the past three horror films I've watched (Dead Snow, The Human Centipede, and Severance) have all taken about people getting stranded in the woods in Europe. I've been trying to find a greater meaning to this pattern but it's probably just a coincidence. For starters, I don't watch a lot of horror. For whatever reason, the horror movies I do watch happen to be from Europe (REC, which I've also seen in the past year, falls outside the "lost in the woods" parameter but it is from Spain). And even Piranha 3D took place in an outdoors setting. It does seem like most horror movies take place either in the suburbs or the boondocks and shy away from cities, especially large urban cores. Is it because the big bad city, with its gangbangers and druggies, is scary enough already? I dunno.
But I'm burying the lede. Severance isn't on the level of Shaun of the Dead but it does convince me that the Brits need to make more satirical horror comedies. The plot is simple enough - a group of pencil pushers for a multinational defense company gets lost during a corporate retreat in the Balkans, and soon they realize they're being stalked. But James Moran's script and Christopher Smith's direction contain enough wry humor and misdirection to keep things fresh, although their imagination peters out by the climax. They're also capable of some very effective scares, including a set piece with a bear trap that's still in my head. It's funny, it's icky, and it's breezily paced. A solid night's diversion.
Side note: one of the characters is an American but I noticed her accent was a little off. I assumed the actress was a Brit altering her voice, but as it turns out, she's Canadian. Nice try, England. You can't fool me.
But I'm burying the lede. Severance isn't on the level of Shaun of the Dead but it does convince me that the Brits need to make more satirical horror comedies. The plot is simple enough - a group of pencil pushers for a multinational defense company gets lost during a corporate retreat in the Balkans, and soon they realize they're being stalked. But James Moran's script and Christopher Smith's direction contain enough wry humor and misdirection to keep things fresh, although their imagination peters out by the climax. They're also capable of some very effective scares, including a set piece with a bear trap that's still in my head. It's funny, it's icky, and it's breezily paced. A solid night's diversion.
Side note: one of the characters is an American but I noticed her accent was a little off. I assumed the actress was a Brit altering her voice, but as it turns out, she's Canadian. Nice try, England. You can't fool me.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Halloween Horrorpocalypse: The Human Centipede
If you're reading this there's a good chance you already know the plot of The Human Centipede, but I'll summarize it for the uninitiated: a mad German scientist stitches three victims together, mouth to anus, to make a human centipede. All together now - EEEEEW.
Now that we've gotten that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, we can discuss the substance of The Human Centipede. Unfortunately, there isn't much to discuss. It's a movie that a Texan would describe as all hat and no (surgically conjoined) cattle.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that a horror film's protagonists must be likable enough that the audience invests itself in their troubles and wants them to live. Heroines Lindsay and Jenny, however, are the types of characters you usually root for the killer to bump off first. As American tourists visiting Germany they are necessarily strangers in a strange land, but they're so moronic that not only do they get lost in the woods while trying to find a nightclub, they proceed to leave their car and get lost in the actual woods themselves. They make the kids from Hostel look like Rick Steves.
That's when our fair ladies stumble upon the secluded home of Dr. Heiter (Dieter Laser, a superb mad scientist name in its own right) and spend the second half of the movie making muffled screams. The "head" of the centipede, the only person capable of talking, spends most of his time cursing Dr. Heiter in subtitled Japanese. It's hard to care much about him either. Throw in some curious cops, and that's pretty much the movie.
For a low-budget production, Tom Six's direction is very polished, and Laser's performance is suitably bonkers (it doesn't hurt that he looks like a freaky bastard too). Otherwise, there's little to recommend. Once you get past the ickyness of the premise, there's little to be squeamish about. Six is judicious with blood and guts, due to either budgetary concerns or a desire to psychologically get under the viewer's skin. Unfortunately, there's only so much that a human centipede can do; the protagonists are already in the most horrific situation they could possibly get into halfway through the movie. The film's third act is therefore fairly rote. The ending is certainly chilling, but it's very grim, nihilistic out of narrative necessity more than thematic purpose.
Though their levels of exposure were drastically different, it's easy to compare The Human Centipede to Snakes on a Plane. Snakes on a Plane proved to be an enjoyable B-movie, however, whereas The Human Centipede is no more than its premise. But it's a humdinger of a premise, and Tom Six already has a sequel on the way. I don't know if I'll bother watching that one but any movie that promises to be "100% Medically Inaccurate" can't be all bad. And even if the movie itself was a letdown, at least the premise inspired such beautiful, beautiful frivolity. Tom Six is one sick puppy, but he's my kind of sick puppy.
Now that we've gotten that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, we can discuss the substance of The Human Centipede. Unfortunately, there isn't much to discuss. It's a movie that a Texan would describe as all hat and no (surgically conjoined) cattle.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that a horror film's protagonists must be likable enough that the audience invests itself in their troubles and wants them to live. Heroines Lindsay and Jenny, however, are the types of characters you usually root for the killer to bump off first. As American tourists visiting Germany they are necessarily strangers in a strange land, but they're so moronic that not only do they get lost in the woods while trying to find a nightclub, they proceed to leave their car and get lost in the actual woods themselves. They make the kids from Hostel look like Rick Steves.
That's when our fair ladies stumble upon the secluded home of Dr. Heiter (Dieter Laser, a superb mad scientist name in its own right) and spend the second half of the movie making muffled screams. The "head" of the centipede, the only person capable of talking, spends most of his time cursing Dr. Heiter in subtitled Japanese. It's hard to care much about him either. Throw in some curious cops, and that's pretty much the movie.
For a low-budget production, Tom Six's direction is very polished, and Laser's performance is suitably bonkers (it doesn't hurt that he looks like a freaky bastard too). Otherwise, there's little to recommend. Once you get past the ickyness of the premise, there's little to be squeamish about. Six is judicious with blood and guts, due to either budgetary concerns or a desire to psychologically get under the viewer's skin. Unfortunately, there's only so much that a human centipede can do; the protagonists are already in the most horrific situation they could possibly get into halfway through the movie. The film's third act is therefore fairly rote. The ending is certainly chilling, but it's very grim, nihilistic out of narrative necessity more than thematic purpose.
Though their levels of exposure were drastically different, it's easy to compare The Human Centipede to Snakes on a Plane. Snakes on a Plane proved to be an enjoyable B-movie, however, whereas The Human Centipede is no more than its premise. But it's a humdinger of a premise, and Tom Six already has a sequel on the way. I don't know if I'll bother watching that one but any movie that promises to be "100% Medically Inaccurate" can't be all bad. And even if the movie itself was a letdown, at least the premise inspired such beautiful, beautiful frivolity. Tom Six is one sick puppy, but he's my kind of sick puppy.
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