The Boy Next Door

Allow me a hipster moment, if you will:

I liked her first.

Yes, I'm referring to Academy Award winner/box office champ/soundbite extraordinaire Jennifer Lawrence, whose talents I've been praising since a little indie called Winter's Bone got thrown into the discussion of films that should be, but never would be, nominated for an Oscar. Now everyone and their grandmother has something positive to say about the girl who would be Katniss Everdeen, allowing me a certain warranted measure of I Told You So henceforth.

Anyhoo, House At the End of the Street:

That's its roof. At the end of the street.

Quick Plot: After about 10 minutes of animated logos from different studios, we're introduced to a prologue wherein a young girl named Carrie-Anne slaughters her parents. Four years later, a very blond mother/daughter pair move in to a house at the other end of the street on which said murder took place, forever driving the property value down and making a lot of white suburbanites angry.

Elyssa (Lawrence) is a rocker teen with an attraction to project boys. With her long necklaces and raccoon eye shadow, Lawrence is like the strangely displaced niece of her 2012 best actress competition Jessica Chastain in Mama. Where the latter had to deal with two flaxen-haired feral children with an unhealthy attachment to a mysterious mother figure, Lawrence's Elyssa gets saddled with a single dreamy flaxen-haired loner harboring an unhealthy attachment to a mysterious sister figure.

Coincidence, or SOMETHING MORE?

Eh, probably the first one, especially since House At the End of the Street is way more fun to pair up with Sleepaway Camp than Mama. I'm not quite spoiling anything here, but trust me: director Mark Tonderai might have spent a few summers at Camp Arawak before finishing his film.

House At the End of the Street was ravaged by critics and horror fans when it debuted in the dreaded wasteland of January releases. Look, I'm not saying it's good--because seriously, it's not--but for whatever reason, I ended up having way more fun than I expected with it. Maybe it was the way Oscar winner Lawrence coyly delivered the line "I'll be right back" (yup, that happens) or how Elisabeth Shue rotates between cool mom, overprotective mom, and hot mess wino mom all within one awkward dinner party scene. By the time Gil Bellows sauntered into a dangerous situation with a foreshadowingly damaged flashlight, I simply couldn't be angry.

Theatrical horror is a constant source of controversy among the dedicated fanbase. Passionate moviegoers like to hurl guilt-loaded insults at people who pay money for dreck and bypass what they perceive to be quality. In theory, I understand this, but when this situation usually turns into "People paid to see Paranormal Activity 3 but didn't support Hatchet II. THEY'RE NOT REAL FANS!", I take offense.

Personally, I kind of hated Hatchet II, and definitely hated being told that I wasn't a true horror fan for not heading down to my AMC theater to show that I wanted more Unrated horror in the world. As I've said before, (in audio form even!), the horror genre will always exist in its true glory in the realm of home media. From the VHS days of the '80s to VOD of today, the modern cinematic audience does not need bucket seats stained with popcorn oil to appreciate or support a film. Let the teenagers spend their allowance on House At the End of the Street. Their decision does not mean I won't get the pleasure of cozying up with my cats to watch The House Of the Devil from the comfort of my own couch.

That was a minor tangent, but probably more thought-out than the plot of House At the End of the Street. 

High Points

I think the oddly timed reveal of the film's first big 'twist' was part of the attacks lodged at this movie, but I kind of liked how House At the End of the Street showed its hand earlier than expected. It threw me off, whether intended or unintended, and in the world of lazy theatrical PG-13 horror, any surprise is a good one

Low Points

During the big finale, there's a genuine shock in terms of a lead character being fatally injured. Then the movie remembers it's aimed at a mass market and 'fatally injured' turns into 'mild flesh wound'

Lessons Learned

Just cause someone's a wasted slut in high school doesn't mean her daughter will be too

Double murders are somewhat of a drag on the real estate market

There are probably easier ways to keep an older boy from dating your daughter than to invite said older boy over for what's supposed to be a pleasant dinner party then suck down an entire bottle of red wine and slobber into an awkward fight with your teen. Easier, but none as entertaining...

Look! It's...

Ally MacBeal's lost love/Goblin's earnest dad Gil Bellows in the role of the Dumbest Policeman Since Those Germans In The Human Centipede

Pet Peeve of the Week

As a test, I spent about 5 minutes this morning removing a knife from its holder to see if it was humanly (or Emily) possible to achieve that oh-so-iconic "SLICE!" sound. Guess what? KNIVES DON'T MAKE NOISE WHEN REMOVED FROM HOLDERS. If you could tell that to EVERY FILMMAKER EVER, I'd be very grateful

Rent/Bury/Buy

Well, I streamed House At the End of the Street on my way to and from work one day, and dangit, I couldn't help but be amused. This is NOT good. Really. It's PG-13 horror with a few sprinkles of 'What the F-Word Used Non-Sexually Since We're PG-13?" It reveals its twist before it even built doubt as to where it was going. And yet, I found myself far less angry than I was watching the more ambitious (in theory) Silent House and to an extent, the constantly shooting-itself-in-its-CGI-foot Mama. Don't watch it expecting anything of quality. But for a mindless 'really?' kind of viewing, one could do worse.

Monkey Butler!

There are two ways to instantly convince me to bump any movie up my Netflix queue: remind me that it costars Terence Stamp or that its titular character is an orangutang butler. The two are equally appealing in my eyes. Toss in the fact that an orangutang butler qualifies for The Shortening and why WOULDN'T I be watching 1986's Link?

Quick Plot: A plucky zoology major named Jane talks her way into being the assistant for a leading animal researcher Dr. Philip, offering to clean his gorgeously secluded country manor while he studies a trio of chimpanzees. Or orangutangs. Or orangutangs dyed to look like chimpanzees. 

It's all very confusing, in much the same way that Rob Marshall cast Chinese actresses to play Japanese women speaking broken English in Memoirs of a Geisha.

Back to the orangutang butler--

Wait, I didn't even TELL you about the orangutang butler? Where are my manners! Remind me to hire a butler that can school me on such things.

At Dr. Philip's castle, Jane grows close to the simian charges, particularly the titular 45-year-old Link, probably because even It Girls of the '80s couldn't resist a monkey in a tuxedo. It's a timeless look on any species.

Dr. Philip, on the other hand, CAN resist a monkey in a tuxedo and plans on unloading Link, dead or alive, to the most convenient bidder. Before he has a chance to get an estimate, his caged charges ominously surround him as the film cuts away, leaving Jane wondering where her boss went. The rest of the film is essentially a cat and mouse game as Jane discovers the lovable house servant might have crossed over into eviiiiiiiiiil territory. She's helped out in this endeavor by a more lovable oranutanzee named Imp and an intensely electric late '80s era musical score by Jerry Goldsmith.

Link is one of those titles that randomly pops up on cult movie lists, and while it's ultimately somewhat dull, I can also see why film fans would want to talk about it. Shue was in her post-Karate Kid glory and just one year away from landing some extraordinary Adventures In Babysitting, while intelligent monkeys were charming human society by talking to kittens. Add in the almost Labyrinth-ian music and you have the kind of film with its date all but watermarked under every reel.

As an artifact of a certain time, Link is certainly unique. Directed by Patrick's Richard Franklin, the film overcomes the seemingly impossible task of making trapped in a beautiful countryside manor with a tuxedo-wearing monkey a frightening affair. Unfortunately, it's also rather boring. Shue makes a sympathetic stalkee, but 45 minutes of her eluding a silent chimpazangutang isn't the most compelling viewing. Yes, even with an awkward shower scene that has a presumably naked (but not for the audience, sorry boys) Shue staring into Link's expressively wandering eyes, Link is just kind of a snore.

But it goes without saying that it earns a million bonus points for heavily featuring a monkey in a tuxedo.

High Points
Did I mention that the monkey wears a tuxedo?

Low Points
Zzzzzzzz

Lessons Learned
Monkeys can’t smoke cigars!

Being female gives one a genetic aptitude towards cooking and cleaning

Don’t cook phones. Seriously, don't COOK PHONES

Stray Emily Fantasy Alert
I find Terence Stamp to be incredibly sexy. The same can be said for Michael Crazy Is As Crazy Does Shannon. Do I just have some weird fetish for men chosen to play General Zod, or is this a common female condition?

Rent/Bury/Buy
Link is a strange film, but it's also too slight to really be any good. After the initial thrill of watching a well-dressed orangutang carry Elizabeth Shue's luggage up to her room wears off, there's really not enough to keep you intrigued. Formal wear animal completists will want to take a peak, but the rest of you can probably get everything they need out of this image:

Go Fish

Sunday. 10 AM. This:

Quick Plot: It’s a “big financial week” for Lake Victoria as spring break sends in all the obnoxious, tanned, and impressively trim twentysomethings for a few days of wearing bathing suits and dancing on boats to the whooing! of overly excited extras. Sheriff Julie Forester (played by Elisabeth Shue, aka the World’s Greatest Babysitter) prepares for the usual drunken shenanigans while her likable teenage son Jake stumbles upon the role of location scout for a Girls Gone Wild-esque production company.

It’s the dream job for any high schooler, but Jake's smile fades quickly due to the intense Joe Francis-ness of a hammy Jerry O’Connell and last minute invitation of his crush, Kelly (notable only for the fact that she’s played by a Gossip Girl cast member). Sure, that’s a bummer, but the sunny day gets even worse when the town discovers their wet t-shirt contests are being judged above a school of prehistoric and pretty hungry piranhas...in 3D!

Yes, there are boobs, Jaws references (despite the absence of a mayor, it seems to be an unspoken law to not close the water), boobs, penis feasts, boobs, and even actual breast implants (specifically). The primary characters are pretty much transported directly from Eight Legged Freaks and the story, rushed and to the point. Like a lot of recent creature feature fare, Piranha 3D has a knowing goofiness about itself that simply wants you to be happy. It’s almost like the movie is a cold bottle of beer thrusting itself into your mouth (but not in a rape way).

This is not to say Piranha 3D is an instant classic (one of my least favorite oxymorons) or the best popcorn flick since Orville Redenbocker discovered butter,. The movie has its flaws but like last year’s My Bloody Valentine, it knows its audience and has fun giving them what they paid for. The gloriously gruesome mass lake massacre is like a Jersey Shore viewer’s wet dream, made even juicier by the inclusuion of Eli Roth’s head getting squished by a piranha-scared boat.

High Points

I won’t reveal the opening cameo, but rest assured it’s a pretty great way to start a summer movie based in the water (even if mysterious guest star did walk through me without saying excuse me back in October)

Great Scott! Look who’s back:

Low Points

Though I dodged my usual 3D inspired headache, I did find myself squinting in minor pain in trying to decipher the piranhas through the foggy darkness. I understand that the lake was supposed to be polluted, but couldn’t there have been some sort of problem solving plot twist, like how piranhas urinate with cleansing light?

Note this guy is in a lighted aquarium. And he's still shady!

The Winning Line

“Hit it DJ Chocolate Thunder!”

I have a sneaking suspicion this is going to become my new go-to catchphrase

Lessons Learned

The reason to study pole dancing is primarily for developing life skills in order to escape carnivorous fish

Girls, how many Saw IVs and Piranha 3Ds do you have to see before you get it: when in a horror movie, pack a hair tie and for the love of Pantene, USE IT!

Piranhas eat humans in the same way shy girls on dates eat ribs, i.e., leaving most of the good meat on the bone

See/Skip/Sneak In

I’m starting to wonder if the new 3D trend is more to prevent theater hopping than to just juke up the ticket prices. This is a movie that doesn’t necessarily warrant $15 (though my cinema apparently has a $9 early bird show, making me thankful for my inner 75 year old) but it’s a darn good time that I thoroughly enjoyed. Summer cinema at its trashiest.

xoxo