It's Only a Movie

When remakes first started to be the thing for Hollywood to do instead of finding original stories, I figured there were a handful of films that Hollywood would never dream of touching.  Cannibal Holocaust and The Last House on the Left were two of those.

Obviously I was wrong on the latter.

I haven't seen the remake of the Wes Craven classic, as I'm not a fan of remakes or even the original film in this case, but from what I hear from people who have seen both is that the remake is disturbing but nowhere near as bad as the original.  So what is the fucking point?

The Last House on the Left is, for better or worse, considered a hallmark of cinema nastiness.  Why would anyone attempt to remake it if they couldn't top it?  It's not supposed to be a pleasant film, so why not go for broke? 

I know the real reason remakes are made is to quite simply cash in on the original film's name and history.  That can work with something like Halloween.  With Craven's rape/revenge film, however, it doesn't seem like a name and history you'd want to cash in on unless you were going to make it better.  After all, the original film's fans are smart enough to know that Hollywood is not going to make a movie like the original just out of fear of the reaction it would produce, so those fans are lost.  New viewers, who watch anything that comes out, will go simply because it's new, so why not try a new film all together that is in the vein of the original (with a different title) and try to rope in both crowds?

The way I see it, the only extra audience that the remake could have received is the crowd that has knowledge of the original film but never saw it because they were frightened of it, but now they know that Hollywood would never put out a film that actually challenges viewers.  Therefore, they feel safe going to see the new film.  They won't be challenged, they won't see anything that sticks with them for years, they won't leave the theatre shaking. 

Perhaps someday we'll see films go back to that wild, free-for-all of the period from the late '60s to early '80s, but I doubt it.  The film, art, economic and cultural climate has changed so much that those days seem beyond reach.  Hollywood should remember that and stop trying to embrace that era without any of the trappings that made it so great.  Not only is that cowardly, but it's a total waste of time on everyone's part.

And if Cannibal Holocaust gets remade with Nic Cage I just may shoot someone.  

Why I Hate Torture Porn

The latest issue of Rue Morgue had an interesting editorial on torture porn. Movies mentioned were The Butcher, Hostel and The Devil's Rejects. The editorial spoke out against the "genre," claiming, in not so many words that it's just cruel and not entertaining or artistic.

I hate the term.

Torture porn is a lazy way to describe a movie. We know what torture is. We know what porn is. To describe movies as such (especially Rob Zombie's film, which isn't even a horror film) is to totally misinterpret a movie's meaning. (Now that torture porn is such a huge deal, however, some of these critics may be responsible for the creation of such films.) It's as if these critics are saying that a film that involves torture can't have any artistic integrity or even entertainment value (as crass as that seems). What was really surprising about this editorial, however, was the inclusion of Zombie's film.

The Devil's Rejects is not a horror film. It's a film that has horrific elements and scenes, but to consider it in the same family as something like Hostel is misguided at best.

When cinematic history looks back at this period of horror films, I believe the scholars will come to a few conclusions about the "torture porn" genre. The first being that it is a reaction to the political/social climate where as a country we were evil (I can't think of a better word) to the rest of the world under Bush Jr.'s regime, and reality television, where souls were bared to the entertainment of the world, reigned supreme. The other thing that will be seen is that these films were not only a reaction to the political/social climate, but also the state of horror films, where far too many "horror" movies that were being put out there as scary were little more than PG-13 teen fright flicks with little in the way of scares and much in the way of computer generated nonsense meant to unsettle viewers, but was often confusing at best. People like Eli Roth (Hostel) gained their love of horror in the '70s and '80s when horror wasn't safe and CGI had not taken over. As a director, seeing what has been done with the genre, he would naturally feel a bit insulted and challenged. What we get is what critics and general audiences have a hard time handling ... thus calling it torture porn.

What is surprising is the remakes. The Hills Have Eyes. Last House on the Left. The original movies are not pleasant bits of cinema (I would love to see what the torture porn haters would say about them now), and while I refuse to see the remakes I have heard from people who have seen both versions that the remakes are toned down versions of what went on before. I imagine the Cannibal Holocaust remake will be much of the same. So what does this mean? Has the horror film grown harsher? Nope. The problem lies with the audience.

Audience (of which critics are a part) have grown softer. Audiences are used to having the punches pulled. They are used to things being safe. After cinema lost its balls in the '80s, people started to feel very safe going to see the latest bit of "fright" or whatnot. And since we are Americans and have the attention span of an ADD MTV child, we forgot what horror cinema used to be like. Because of that, people are offended by what is coming out today (though it doesn't even come close to the Guinea Pig series which came out well before this run of "torture porn"). It destroys their delicate sensibilities and bothers them, thus they dismiss it as mere "porn" because in their minds porn has no value.

Here's the deal on torture. It's been used in movies before Saw came out. Our government engages in it. (Where is the outcry there?) However, one is fiction and the other reality. Horror movies have always been examinations of what is happening in our society. To think they would not be influenced by the actions of our government is to say you don't know the history of cinema or even horror cinema. It shows your ignorance.

Porn is an industry that generates billions. It is seen as a release for many people. It is sometimes erotic. Sometimes exploitive. It can be artistic or raw. No matter what it is, however, it serves as a release catalyst. It, like torture, has been around for a very long, long time. To dismiss its power or even societal value is to again speak to one's ignorance.

The fact that people call these latest horror movies "torture porn" in such a dismissive way shows one thing: They just don't get it. They are on the right track, as critics usually have some sense of film history, but they expose their biases in the terms they use. They expose their ignorance in the way it is said. So maybe it is torture porn, but it's only that way because it upsets you, which is exactly the point.

I prefer calling them what they are: reactionary. (Though years ago I coined the term "Hell cinema," though it would only apply to stuff like The Devil's Rejects in this case.)

Some critics never get it right. And they wonder why they aren't respected.

Umm, thanks?

I made a mistake ... maybe. I recommended Cannibal Holocaust (see the trailer here) to a friend. I recommended it with Haute Tension. She rented both. She was not exactly thankful for my recommendations, though she liked the slasher more than the cannibals.

I felt bad about recommending Deodato's classic of Italian cinema. I feel real bad. I warned her about the real animal violence and the sexual violence, but still. When I told her it had run into legal problems and had been banned, she had to see why. Had I known she would be watching it alone, I would have recommended against it or told her to come over and watch it with me. It's not exactly a film you should view alone, as many of you who have seen it know. It's grisly. There's no better term. I tried to warn her...

In the end, all is good. She doesn't hate me all that much. I don't know if she'll take any of my recommendations to heart again, but that may be for the best. I hate to think I ruined someone's weekend.

As for the people I hate, you should all rent this feel-good flick for your after Thanksgiving viewing party. Your family will love it. Just make sure you have some buckets handy. You'll need something to catch the puke.

How Do You Do This?

A friend asked me to recommend a film this weekend. I told her I really liked The Devil's Rejects, but warned her it could be disturbing. (Turns out I did not have to worry about that as she sent me one of the most out-of-left-field texts I have ever received, and if I wonder if I should be the one disturbed.) She then asked for other recommendations, and I mentioned the film pictured here, Cannibal Holocaust.

I gave the usual warnings. Sexual violence. Real animal cruelty. I figured it was a safe recommendation after the text I got, but you never know. It seems like, however, whenever someone asks for my recommendations I have to throw in a caveat. When I write my reviews for Film Threat I often have to do the same thing. It comes from a time I just would recommend a film and then have someone flip out on me.

How do you recommend something like Cannibal Holocaust without seeming like a total maniac? I'm not sure you can ... at least not with most people.

The friend I recommended it to said she may work her way up to that one and asked if I had anything in between the two films. (She has since watched The Devil's Rejects again and liked it even more the second time. Should I be worried?)

I recommended I Stand Alone to a few friends. Most of them thought my warnings weren't stern enough, though they all agreed it was a good film. (It's actually a great film that ranks up there as one of the best of all time.) It seems like its a no-win situation. Hell, I've lost friends over film recommendations (Amateur Porn Star Killer comes to mind).
So how do you remedy that?

You don't.

I learned the hard way that no matter what you say about a film, no matter what warnings you give, the end reaction is on the shoulders of each individual viewer. As a critic and friend, you can only tell people what's in the movie, why you like it, and why they might like it. You'll either come off as a prick or a breath of fresh air. My experience, though, shows that you'll usually be the prick. But it all becomes worth it when you get a text like the one I received. You make someone's day and turn them onto a film you love. It doesn't get much better than that.