What Happens In Vegas Dies In Vegas

When Eli Roth’s Hostel hit cinemas way back in 2006, the horror industry took note in a way that would, in the opinions of many a purist, damn the mainstream for some time. Due to the juggernaut success of the then-fresh Saw series, Hostel’s box office boom cemented the so-called torture porn subgenre as a viable, financially sound investment for theatrical releases.

What followed was mostly uninspired cash-ins like The Collector and Captivity before audiences grew tired of dark lighting and disembowelments. The real shame in all this is that perhaps the subgenre’s best film—Hostel: Part II—was simply made too late. By 2007, everyone from George Romero to New York Magazine were tired of Saw-ish style, and though Roth’s sequel was smart and satirical, critics and ticketbuyers were simply too tired to give it a chance.

Hostel: Part III is the franchise’s first go-around without Roth onboard. In some ways, this particular threequel debuts (to DVD) with a lot of pressure on its bloody shoulders: can this become a profitable series on premise alone? Is there more to say about people paying for the chance to kill other people, and more importantly, will audiences want to listen?

Or should I just get to the face-peeling already…

Quick Plot: Just like that movie everyone talks about that I haven’t seen The Hangover, a group of good(ish) looking late 20somethings are heading to Vegas for token dull dude Scott’s bachelor party. On board is the wealthy best man Carter, handicapped nice guy Justin, and token obnoxious cretin Mike.  

Mike is a gem. Married to a wife he just loves to call fat, with kids who are surely better off by the end of the film for losing their hate-filled daddy, Mike is marked as Victim #1. After a whole lot of false starts, we finally get to see that transformation happen. With a twist.

The smartest thing Hostel: Part III does is play around with its pre-established formula. The earlier films took place in Eastern Europe, a beautiful and, to common American tourists, generally unchartered region where being abducted is hardly out of the question. Moving the action to the recognizable lands of casinos and vice was a risk, but because Michael D. Weiss’ script has a few tricks up its sleeve, the gamble pays off (ba dom bump Vegas pun, amiright?). We recognize the business of Elite Hunting, with a few new Sin City-appropriate touches.

Hostel was a great idea executed with a little too mean execution. Hostel: Part II was a genuinely clever followup where it felt as though Roth was both expanding his universe and fixing what didn’t work about his original (unlikable protagonists, unabashed misogyny, nameless villains). Scott Spiegel’s Hostel: Part III is far lighter in scope and tone, but it’s quite enjoyable as a continuation of the series. Though the characters are a little too forgettable, their plight is filled with surprises, be it false starts, creepy masks, villainous turns, or suffocation by cockroach.

All part of the fun.

High Points

The opening scene is both entertaining on its own and a great blueprint for the rest of the film to follow: as the previous films showed, you really never know who to trust when it comes to secret societies. Throughout Hostel: Part III, that’s a theme that constantly gets put into play

Low Points

I understand that much like the first film, the men on display are supposed to be alpha male wannabe misogynists who lead you to wonder if they get what’s coming to them. That would be fine if all the crass dialogue was restricted to a character like Mike. But why then put such ugly dialogue in everyone’s mouths? The gang sans Mike seems to revel in discovering the prostitutes they paid for live in mobile homes and can thusly be referred to as trailer trash, while a Ukranian prisoner repeatedly screams"f*ggot" while kicking his guard. It leaves an ugly taint on the entire script that makes it hard to say the film isn't, once again, misogynist, racist, sexist, and so on

Lessons Learned

In Vegas, you have to be missing a full week before the cops care to start looking

No matter what your fiancée may say, when his overgrown frat boy friends whisk him away for a weekend of bachelor fun, yes, yes you should indeed be worried

Airbags are great stabilizers for stabbings

Rent/Bury/Buy

Hostel: Part III is not the surprise gem that its predecessor was, but I think I can safely say I enjoyed it far more than the original. The Vegas setting adds necessary refreshment, bringing with it plenty of new quirks in the every-expanding Elite Hunting empire. If the franchise continues to roam the globe in search of new locales, I’ll be happily queuing it up on Instant Watch for years to come. This isn’t really worth a buy or investment of cash, but it’s a well-made straight-to-DVD horror film that has plenty of fun with itself. Give it a spin.

Sega Cornesis--I mean, Children of the Corn: Genesis

I challenge anyone to find anyone who knows someone whose cousin’s neighbor’s ex-girlfriend knows someone that would call Children of the Corn the best horror franchise of all time. It just won’t happen, and I’ll bet Joplin’s laser pointer on that.

It’s not that the Gatlin series has the worst individual films in horror. Of the ones I’ve seen--which is almost hard to count since so many just blend into boredom--none really fall below the trashy fifth Friday the 13th or glorious ridiculousness of Silent Night Deadly Night Part 2. Perhaps that’s the whole problem with the series: for all its low budgetry and dark premise, it also doesn’t take any real risks.

The original film boasts some of the most disturbing moments of the 80s, mostly because I’m a sucker for kids’ crude crayon drawings and stabby teenagers. 

Part 2...well, we had evil corn and a pretty kickass runny nose death. 

The third installment--which I haven’t seen in years and can’t speak currently on--SEEMED to be quite fun, while after that, the slew of we’re-not-even-trying-to-rise-above-the-VHS-market last few films seem notable solely for the inclusion of random before-they-were-famous stars (Naomi Watts, Eva Mendes). Most recently, SyFy attempted a revamping of the series with the painfully shrill 2009 remake.

The strange thing about this is that in terms of potential, Children of the Corn is BUSTING. I know other horror buffs look down on killer kids, but a prepubescent wielding a knife feels as natural a combo to me as cheese on a pretzel (you know, like a Combo). 

And yet...and yet...there’s hardly anything special about the Children of the Corns. Save for the original’s Isaac and Malachi, nobody remembers the villains. The kids never hitched their pitchforks to outer space. Roseanne never stopped by for a cameo. But the series continues to pump out mediocre entry after mediocre entry, including today’s feature, Children of the Corn: Genesis.

Quick Plot: In 1973, a Vietnam vet returns home 20 miles away from the infamous Gatlin to find his entire town has been taken over by elementary schoolers. As he stares down a li’l killer, the man has some war flashbacks and turns his gun on himself, only to instead have a child hurl a doll at his face, fall out a window, and bring us to the opening credits.

I hope to someday have my life advance twenty years by having a doll thrown at my face.

Cut to present day, “somewhere in the desert of California,” where a married couple is stranded with car trouble and eager to become horror movie bait. Tim and the newly pregnant Allie do as you do in a horror movie and head to the nearest creepily isolated farmhouse, where they’re greeted with awkward aloofness by Billy Drago (always a sign that you’re in the wrong part of town when it comes to cinema) and his mail order Ukranian bride Helen. The hosts let the couple stay the night until a ride can take them to a garage in the morning, providing they follow THE VERY SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS of not snooping around where they shouldn’t.

Easy, right? Just go to sleep, wake up, go home, and regale your friends at the next dinner party with anecdotes of the time you almost got murdered in the desert of California. Use the car ride to think of all the embellishments you’ll add to the tale. Sure, there may be what mildly sounds like a child’s screams just around the outhouse, but considering you’re already freaked out by your situation and JUST WANT TO GET OUT OF IT, you should TOTALLY investigate after that goodnight pee, right?

So yeah, Allie gets caught by Billy Drago, who then explains--after Tim gets manhandled by Helen--that he ordered his mail order bride without knowing she was pregnant, then ended up with a demon seed who now lives in a shed behind the outhouse. Or something. There’s some telekinesis involved, a policeman getting snatched up by the sky like the Julianne Moore alien movie no one saw, marital bickering, a car crash that the Internet tells me is completely borrowed from the vaults of the Bad Boys 2 editing room, and a good 72 minutes in, the first appearance of a bonnet.

So clearly, Genesis is a slow film.

Yes, a Children of the Corn film is slow. It’s a good hour before we see any real violence and a good post-credits sequence before we figure out just what behind the rows is going on. On one hand, such a style is interesting for a series that generally sticks to a different kind of formula. Except on the other, it’s boring. So there’s that.

High Points

Though nobody’s gunning for an Oscar (or heck, Scream Award) the performances are more than decent across the boar--eh, corn field

Low Points

Slow motion can be used effectively. Slow motion is not used effectively in Children of the Corn: Genesis. Slow motion is also used ineffectively at least seven times in Children of the Corn: Genesis

Lessons Learned

If you're still in California, there simply HAS to be cars

Pregnant does not equal dying

It’s really hard to get sweet iced tea in LA (you have to special ask for it)

Creepy backwoods preacher men aren't particularly interested in your newfound decision to go vegan

After serving your duty in the military, you get discharged with your very own handgun

Rent/Bury/Buy

Children of the Corn: Genesis isn’t an awful film or by any means the worst in the series, but it’s a fairly dull one that I don’t need to revisit anytime soon. When it hits Instant Watch, it might make for an adequate 80 minute stream, though any further effort should be avoided. The DVD includes a fairly pretentious interview with writer/director Joel Soison, so there aren’t extras to bump it to a buy. Unless you indeed are that cousin’s boyfriend’s neighbor’s teacher’s dog walker’s sister’s bodyguard’s girlfriend who does indeed ADORE the series, I’d say wait to catch it on cable. Or just watch Drago mug in 7 Mummies instead.

And the biggest non-spoiled issue of Screfourem is...

quite hair raising

Hayden Panettiere sports one of the oddest cinematic hairdos since Whitney Able in Monsters or well, Courteney Cox in Scream 3. 

We will never forget

It's not that this attractive young actress can't handle a crop. She has a lovely little face that could easily pull off a pixie cut, but what part of common sense was her stylist lacking when he/she decided to keep the front pieces long enough that they required the strange tie-back? It's baffling and frankly, the scariest sight I've seen on the big screen since that dancing dwarf thing rocked out to Tiny Tim in Insidious.

While we're on the subject of hair, allow me to raise a second point of contention: Woodsboro's severe lack of scrunchies. Does NO ONE in this town own a Goody pack of hair ties?

Well, Marley Shelton’s Deputy Judy does, but note how she uses bobby pins to keep most of her ponytail back, yet fashionably keeps large grown-out bang strands in her face the entire film. Sure, they're blond and therefore light enough to generally see through, but doesn't an officer of the law have more important things to worry about than constantly blowing those angles out of her eyes? No wonder her lemon squares taste like rumps (paraphrased from Gale Weathers-Riley's potty mouth).

These are the details that can sometimes prevent me from loving a film. Prime flip side example: The Running Man. There Maria Conchita Alonso is, sweating in spandex and fighting for her life. Her rich dark locks sure look lovely flowing through underground hockey rinks, but what crosses this film into successful four-star territory is that choice her character makes to grab that mane, twist it around and efficient prevent it from becoming a stalker's easy handle.

Apologies for the HairCare PSA. I just sometimes find it necessary to shout out the truth.

Oh and Scream 4? 

I liked it.

I suppose I could go into a deeper analysis on what the Scream franchise has meant to me and my generation of horror fans, but many a blogger has done that over the last few weeks. Scream 4 (or Scre4m, which doesn’t really make sense because Screfourem sounds more like an algebra equation or mild infection than horror film) is not in any ways a perfect film. Some of the dialogue gets clunky. The kills are repetitive, since there’s apparently only so many things you can do with a kitchen knife that doesn't involve stabbing or slicing assy lemon squares. Gale and Dewey's relationship feels sad and leaves me pondering what a now unemployed big city reporter-turned-suburban housewife has been doing for ten years (answer: lots of Botox). 

A meta line about cheating makes me feel uncomfortable. The apparent eternal youth of Sidney Prescott (who looks EXACTLY THE SAME) makes me wonder if either a) Neve Campbell started sharing Vanna White's virgin blood moisturizer or b) Neve Campbell has just always looked 30. And finally, we're introduced to the emptiest hospital since 28 Days Later, where I beg any and all of you to never end up in because through screaming, pulled monitors, power outages and gunshots, no staff member will dare pass by to check on your status.

Then

Now

All that aside, Screfourem was a fun theatrical experience, particularly in the company of a full audience that jumps and shouts in all the right places. I won't delve into any spoilers here, but I do thoroughly recommend the film to anyone that considers themselves a fan of the franchise. It doesn't come near matching the freshness of the original or wit of part 2, but it knows enough to still be a horror movie (unlike the goofy 3) while getting with the times and satirically playing with the modern tropes and cliches of the genre as it stands in the 21st century. 

Is it everything someone who used to have Scream memorized was living for? Not quite. Is it a good time and $13 well spent? Absolutely.

Now about that hair...

Saw 7: The Better Not Be Final Chapter

I’ve gone on record more than once regarding my gooey affection for the Saw series. Sure, the story is more tangled than Natasha Lyonne’s hair, the gore grosser than Natasha Lyonne’s bathroom floor, and the acting often patcher than Natasha Lyonne in a mesh t-shirt, but darnit, these movies are fun. Blackened humor fun covered in guts, but fun nevertheless. Best of all, the films actually take place in their own genuine universe, a place rich in rusty bolts, sinners, old timesy tricycles, and characters that actually return 6 entries later.

Basically, if you ever want to pick a fight with me, insult Saw. Unless you’re limiting said attack to Part V, I will bury you.

It was a sunny Sunday morning when I decided an extra hour of Daylight Savings given sleep warranted a 10AM viewing of Saw 3D. Having seen all but Part 1 in the theater I knew I owed it to myself (and the producers) to pony up $10 and don those plastic glasses for what could potentially be “The Final Chapter” (cause that was so true for Jason).

To give some basis for my Saw stance, below is my summation on each film:

I. A pleasant surprise, despite its collection of terrible performances from somewhat to very respected actors (Elwes, Glover). Notable for, at the time, feeling incredibly fresh and refreshingly nihilistic.

II. Probably my favorite of the series, a tighter film that successfully amped up the gore and game. Lots of great deaths, two neat twists, and one Wahlberg.

III. Though a lot of fans cite this as the best, I enjoy it far less than most of the other movies. Two unlikable protagonists, an ending that takes away too many interesting characters too quickly, pig guts, shouting, general ugliness. Not my favorite.

IV. For some reason, I seem to be the only cheerleader for this entry, one that  (in my opinion) boasts the only sympathetic lead. Plus, Donnie Wahlberg’s head gets smashed and the Mandylor gets revealed for all his Costasness.

V. Shit. For so many reasons, shit. Does nothing but give Jill Tuck a box. The Fatal 5 feels like the first draft of Part II and worst of all, the lone survivor (Lions Gate slave Julie Benz) seems like a Jigsaw cohort, is never confirmed, then never seen again. Boo.

VI. The most pleasant prize of the bunch, a clever (if ham-fisted) attempt to say something about healthcare, with some of the best traps and biggest surprises. Read my full review here

So. Knowing that part VI director Kevin Greutert was returning (against his will, since his fingers were pried off the Paranormal Activity sequel by contractual obligations), I was pumped. What follows will reek of SPOILERS, but to those who may stop reading here, know that if you enjoyed any of the other Saws, you will probably love this one.

Quick Plot: Um. Quick?

I swear this gets harder with every sequel.

Okay, breaking it down:

1.Bobby is a self-help celebrity superstar who cashed in on surviving a Jigsaw trap. Problem is, he never actually went through a trap which naturally means he’ll be the next subject in Jigsaw’s friends-and-family game. Think of his thread as the timeframe device, complete with a ticking digital countdown clock that apparently the apprentices bought wholesale.

2. Jill has gone to the rat squad of the FBI (yes, I watch too much Law & Order: SVU) to finger Detective Hoffman as Jigsaw’s current working apprentice. Agent Gibson ( a hilariously southern Chad Donella) takes the case.

3.Hoffman, now scarred and still so jacked he can’t bend, orchestrates a few new side games targeting Neo-Nazis, Jill, and Gibson. It’s funny, because Costas Mandylor remains an increasingly hilarious presence. I just can’t believe this is an actual person.

What can one even say about the 7th Saw film? That it’s just as gory, perplexing, funny, and ridiculously as enjoyable as IV & VI? Take, for example, the simply amazing cameo by Scream Queens Season 1 champ Tanedra, who returns with one arm to scream at a Jigsaw Survivors Support Group (yes, that this group exists in itself is fabulous):

“The only good thing that came out of my experience is getting handicapped parking at the goddamned mall!”

Why was I the only one in my admittedly uncrowded theater laughing at that?

Other points of giddiness:

-The fact that FBI agents continue to enter the lairs of supergenius serial killers without calling backup

-The fact that none of the many agents killed last year by Hoffman thought to leave a post-it saying “Hoffman might be killer. Confronting him now. If I die, see other post-it” 

-The new lead FBI Agent and everything he did, including addressing Jill solely as “Crazy” and checking the tiny corner of a bathroom crime scene to see if Hoffman had been hiding there for the last seven hours

-Tobin Bell, in his signature flashback cameo, wearing a backwards baseball cap and dungarees. A BACKWARDS BASEBALL CAP!!!

-For whatever reason (I say that a lot with the Saw movies) there’s a Changeling-esqe wheelchair just hanging out in the lair and a random kill takes place in a garden gnome factory

Like every entry before it, Saw 3D has received its share of criticism. I can’t imagine why. Yes, it reuses a subplot we’ve seen in every film since part 3, but it also introduces new traps and expands the Saw universe in pretty neat ways. The idea that past survivors continue to exist in Saw’s chronology offers some good potential for future films (because we can all agree “The Final Chapter” is just something to say for theaters not showing it in 3D, right?) and also hits on one of the more interesting aspects of the Jigsaw’s nature. Ever since Amanda first uttered, through reverse bear trap scars, “He...helped...me,” there’s always been that curiosity of if and how his macabre lessons actually play out. Here, we get to see a few more.

Yup, Doct-ar Gord-on! (as I can only say in my best Michael Emerson shout) is back, sporting a few extra pounds, a mild limp, and the same lovably awful American accent we first heard seven (!!!) years ago. That in itself is a mild treat to Saw devotees.

What else can we ask for? A screaming and useless chick getting burned to death? Check. A smarmy self-help phony pulling out his molars and inserting hooks into his nipples? Done. It’s understandable that such things won’t make everybody happy. Just don’t insult the people that it does.

High Points

The film’s biggest group trap includes a speeding tire, arm ripoff, and skinhead superglued to his car. It’s lovely. Similarly, one trap involving a blinded character navigating an unfinished floor (while wearing a ready-to-activate noose) is surprisingly tense

Low Points

While the 3D seemed more relevant than something like Piranha or The Final Destination, it still didn’t quite meet my expectations. C’mon, Saw. You’re the granddaddy of Rube Goldbergian kill-traps for this generation. Couldn’t you find something else to throw at us than piles of intestines?

Lessons Learned

When being chased by a bloodthirsty sadist, hiding in an exposed little nook between book shelves with no weaponry isn’t really the best way to save your life

Carinal rule of horror continues: any female with a T-starting name will demonstrate slut tendencies. And die a fairly painful death (in this case, in front of hundreds of morning shoppers)

Matters of the FBI are best kept between agents. There’s absolutely no need to call more than two reinforcements in at any point, even if you happen to be tracking a serial killer with a larger body count than Jason Voorhees

It’s incredibly easy to tamper with FBI evidence, especially when it involves one of the biggest cases in criminal history

See/Skip/Sneak-In

Unless you’re packing your own glasses, you can’t really sneak in now can you? Good, because if you love the Saw franchise, you might as well drop a few bucks down and enjoy another round of ridiculous gutty fun. Have a few drinks first, gather up your friends, and settle in for some master lessons in smarm from the hopefully always employed Costas Mandylor.

The man deserves to sell his own wine. Or something that puts his face on a label. It's like a Guess Who character come to life!