Guys, You Know They Invented DVDs, Right?

Horror anthologies in the 21st century have, for the most part, been a strange and mean disappointment. With a few key exceptions--well, Trick 'r Treat--it just seems like whenever (usually) young filmmakers of this age tackle the short story format, we as an audience end up with something far from scary and entertaining and close to mean and for whatever reason, oddly misogynist.

I pretty much hated V/H/S, though I hated V/H/S 2 a little bit less. When I learned about the third entry, I was planning to finally cut the cord of grumble watching in a way I've only ever succeeded at with American Horror Story (that's right: I slogged through Sons of Anarchy and I'm a little less of a person because of it). Then I learned that some of the directors involved had made films that I genuinely liked (Deadgirl, Dance of the Dead, Resolution, Spring) and realized, damnit, I have to just get on that elliptical machine and watch this movie while burning some calories.

I am nothing if not a multitasker.

Quick Plot(s): Story by story, here we go:

Our wraparound, Vicious Circles, is helmed by Deadgirl co-director Marcel Sarmiento. It follows a slacker named Kevin who, hold onto your butts, REALLY LIKES VIDEOTAPING STUFF. Most of that “stuff” includes his girlfriend Iris. One night, a high-speed police chase involving a wayward ice cream truck flashes by his own window, prompting Kevin to grab his camera and get in on the action. Iris is somehow abducted by the speeding truck, but she manages to send Kevin video phone messages helping him track her. Meanwhile, other bystanders who witness the chase circling them seem to fall into fits of violent madness.

I’ll say this about Vicious Circles: it’s gallons better than any of the wraparounds in the other two V/H/S films. Unfortunately, that’s kind of like saying having your cavity filled is gallons better than experiencing a root canal, or that the characters on The Walking Dead are more consistent than Fear the Walking Dead. For whatever reason, the framing segments in this series just can’t seem to click into place in a way that works. As a huge fan of the underrated Deadgirl, Vicious Circle is a letdown but hey...it could have been worse.

The first full segment is Dante the Great, written and directed by Gregg Bishop of the surprisingly delightful zombie comedy Dance of the Dead. Dante is a wildly successful magician whose tricks baffle and excite the world. His success, however, is actually due to the possession of a powerful and evil cloak that craves fresh bodies.

Dante the Great is kind of the perfect story for this kind of anthology. It’s a simple setup that probably wouldn’t warrant a 90 minute feature, but it’s a fun and unique concept that also gives you something new in its brief running time. It’s also refreshing that the story is told more documentary-style than handheld found footage. I can’t say that I’ll think of Dante the Great ever again, but it entertained me just fine while I watched it.

Up next is Nacho Timecrimes Vigalondo’s Parallel Monsters, which follows an amateur scientist who creates a portal into a side universe where his own double has seemingly done the same thing. As our lead explores his counterpart’s home, he discovers some key differences that just might involve genital monsters.

I’ve yet to see the well-received Timecrimes, in part because I’m still trying to get to the point where I don’t remember the details of what’s known to be the very similar in nature and details Triangle. Like the first segment, Parallel Monsters is good, if not great. I enjoyed how it never had to come out and explain its alternate devil (or something) worshiping religion. It drops enough clues to know something is very, very wrong, and doesn’t overstay its welcome. It’s a solid short story, which is what I like to see in anthologies.

The final segment is titled Bonestorm and is directed by the promising team behind Resolution and Spring, Justin Benson and Aaron Scott Moorhead. In the typical V/H/S tradition, Bonestorm is about a group of awful teenage boys. Thankfully, it’s much better than most of the previous shaky cam dudefests found in the other films.

The youths in this case are a group of skateboarding brats who head across the Mexican border to get some video footage of extreme moves. As they flip around an abandoned skate park with some ominous ritual symbols, one of them sheds some blood and accidentally summons a cult of undead skeleton zombie killer things. Shot primarily via Go Pro cameras, it certainly has the expected “what am I actually seeing?” effect, but the chaos is handled well enough that the almost video game-esque feel keeps the material watchable.

Due to their format, anthologies are rarely the most exciting type of film to write (and I assume, read) about. Oddly enough, I could never manage to put together my thoughts on the first V/H/S film because every time I tried, I felt like I was writing from a soapbox stuffed with estrogen. It felt mean and misogynist, and I just couldn't vocalize it in a way that satisfied where I stood. I covered the sequel on my podcast, The Feminine Critique  (Episode 43), because, well, sometimes it's just easier to stumble through spoken words than written ones.

I don't particularly want to see more V/H/S entries, but if considering they're on a (rather slow) upward track, I guess I won't complain. It's encouraging to see newer genre filmmakers taking some chances. Let's just hope they stay somewhat interesting.

Lessons Learned
Sigh. The usual. If you have boobs, a V/H/S camera will ogle them. If you have a vagina, you won't be allowed to do anything behind the camera. If you have motion sickness, a V/H/S camera will jam its fingers down your throat and vomit you. You get it.

Stray Observations

V/H/S: Viral might be the odd case of a film that works better when viewed on a cell phone than a larger television screen, where the shaky cam effect can be overwhelming

Rent/Bury/Buy
My expectations were pretty darn low for V/H/S: Viral, so a mild endorsement might be worthy of video box art. That being said, I found this one more...tolerable than the first two. The stories all bring something mildly new to the format, and none overstay their welcome in terms of length. It's on Instant Watch and at just 80 minutes, it won't hurt your brain to watch. It won't do much to improve it, but things could be worse. 

Love the One You're With

If you’ve read anything about Deadgirl, a first time effort by co-directors Marcel Sarmiento and Gadi Harel, you may be expecting an unwatchable piece of exploitation rich in zombie rape and I Spit On Your Grave levels of depravity. You’d be wrong on two counts, since 1) I Spit On Your Grave is a film I’ll defend for other reasons and 2) Deadgirl is actually a haunting, disturbing, and somewhat restrained little film that’s far stronger than its premise could have damned it to be.

Quick Plot: High school stoners JT (Noah Segan) and Rickie (Shiloh Fernandez) cut school one day to hang out in the local abandoned asylum (was my suburban hometown the only place in America that didn’t have of these, by the way?). Upon tossing around some rolling chairs and chugging unbranded cans of beer, the boys come upon a bolted room and a beautiful corpse chained inside. Rickie is freaked out. JT is aroused. 

The next day, Rickie returns to find JT has drawn his own conclusions about the “Deadgirl”: she’s undead and has been left all alone. Rickie remains horrified but has no idea how to pry his best friend’s um, attention, away from what seems like a gift from the gods. As children of broken homes in a small town with no future, JT and Rickie are aware that they have little else going for them. The don’t catch the attention of the ladies--not the fleshy Daisy Dukes-donning gas station pumper and certainly not Rickie’s unrequited crush of a cute redhead dating the token jockjerk. For JT and later, their even more fried friend Wheeler, life has never been better than having a gorgeous, complacent, full grown woman tied to a table for their personal pleasure. The more sensitive Rickie, on the other hand, knows it’s wrong but isn’t quite ready to alienate his best friend (and sadly, the only thing he seems to have in his life) over a corpse.

I worry my synopsis of Deadgirl is still making the film sound a tad homemade pornish, but it is a surprisingly sensitive film. I can’t downplay the subject matter and indeed, there are some extremely uncomfortable scenes that some filmgoers won’t make it through. Overall, however, Deadgirl is disturbing and thoughtful, not exploitive and gratuitous. The most horrific moments are found in JT’s increasingly distant dialogue, while the actual sex is portrayed with appropriately un-erotic staging. Think of the non-cathartic nature of the torture scenes in The Girl Next Door, as opposed to the more heavily stylized scenes that tend to rear their glossy heads in mainstream cinema.

Overall, Deadgirl has the feel of a short story in a zombie anthology mixed with an indie drama about small town youth. The performances are a tad inconsistent (perhaps there’s only so much Candice Accola can do with Charlie Brown’s Little Redheaded Girl role compared to Segan’s creepily macabre JT and Fernandez’s likable enough RIckie) but hold steady enough to sell a film that depends so much on its characters. There are some truly memorable images, such as Deadgirl’s overly makeup’d face which is, one scene later, covered with a magazine cutout that recalls Claire’s Season 4 collage work in Six Feet Under.

High Points

We’ve seen zombies as everything from choreographed two-steppers to Olympian sprinters and softball players, so it’s pretty impressive to see a film that brings something new not just to an undead-themed story, but also in its creepily haunting depiction of the “Deadgirl,” aided by Jenny Spain’s careful performance.

Abandoned asylums make everything better

It’s refreshing to see a film about teenagers that doesn’t force trendy lingo or pop culture references into their mouths. There’s nary a cell phone or high speed Internet connection to be found, and it adds a strange timeliness that make Deadgirl work for any era

Low Points

Although occasionally evocative, the score calls attention to itself far too often

First of all, is it a requirement for all high school films to feature a character named Johnny? Next, does Johnny always have to be played by an actor pushing 30?

Lessons Learned

Abduction is far more difficult than it looks, unless you’re the big man on campus and you’re throwing two stoners into your trunk in the middle of school recess

Oh, boys. Do I really have to tell you to be careful where to put your valuables?

Meat left in the open will spoil***

Winning Line

“I wish I was 15 again.”

“I’m 17.”

“Man, I wish I was 15 again.”

I actually really love this quick exchange between Rickie and his mother’s girlfriend, played by the solid character actor Michael Bowen. It captures the lack of adult influences on Rickie and his friends, but more importantly, it quietly points out that 17 is indeed a different point of life

Rent/Bury/Buy

Deadgirl is currently on Netflix’s Instant Watch, so give it a try when you’re in the mood for a serious, dark, and deep ride into a mean mean place. The production values are top notch so if you can get behind the characters and survive the idea of what you will see, then I recommend a tryout. It almost has a Jack Ketchum-y feel that’s been numbed by some IFC serum. It won't brighten your day, but it will provide a thoughtfully unsettling film experience worthy of your time.

***A personal story: When I was in high school, every health class was forced to undergo the inevitable STD slideshow which was fabulous on every level. First, the teacher (who apparently freelanced with this lesson plan all over Long Island) asked us to raise our hands if we planned on going away to college. Without any irony or exception, she pointed to the 90% of the class and claimed that each and every one of us would get crabs, because that’s what happens when you share a toilet. This was followed by magnified shots of just what crabs are and what they do, which in turn was followed by one of the school jocks--sadly not named Johnny--trotting outside and returning with a very reddened face.