Funny Games

Director: Michael Haneke
Starring: Naomi Watts, Tim Roth, Michael Pitt, Brady Corbet, Devon Gearhart
Running Time: 112 min.
Rating: R

***1/2 (out of ****)

No, I have not seen Michael Haneke’s 1997 Austrian film Funny Games, from which this shot-by-shot remake is based. It’s an important point to make because whenever a film is a remade or adapted the temptation is always to draw comparisons to the material from which it was derived. That I don’t have that cloud hanging over my head is a relief considering this version alone is tough enough to think about and analyze on its own terms. Going in all I knew was that this was one of those suburban American nightmare movies (my favorite genre of film) and I figured that if it was a quarter as good as its teaser poster suggested I was interested.

The obvious point of comparison, other than the original film, is Gus Van Sant’s ill-fated 1998 remake of Psycho, but one could reasonably argue Haneke’s idea of adapting his own film is actually worse in conceit. At least Van Sant was tackling material that was fresh…to him. But its clear Haneke isn’t doing this for himself, but rather to expose the film to an American audience for whom he claims it was originally intended. Intended to punish. To reprimand us for our enjoyment of “torture porn” films by rubbing our noses in it and mocking the very conventions we’ve come to expect from them. There’s no point to it all, or more accurately, the point of it all is precisely that there is no point.

When most movies are over I usually have a pretty good idea of what worked and what didn’t and might offer suggestions as to what could have been improved upon. Funny Games is a different story. It isn’t a film. It’s an experience, and a grueling, unpleasant one at that. Actually, it’s more of an ordeal. It forces the viewer to look at their reactions to it and at times implicates them in the action, although that description makes the movie sound much deeper than it is.

It isn’t as timely or thematically important as Haneke thinks (and at times is way too artsy and pretentious for its own good) but as an experiment that gets you thinking it’s perfect. Some of that thinking may consist of wondering how anyone could make this piece of trash. And Haneke’s response would be to ask what piece of trash would enjoy watching it, even though he thinks he knows the answer-- “YOU!” And I can actually picture him screaming that in a scolding, arrogant tone while waving his finger incessantly. But he gets away with it because the experiment is often terrifying, well-acted and cleverly directed.

He’s definitely not changing the face of how we view movies with this but he has offered up one of the more polarizing, ambitious efforts of late and one that’s sure to have everyone split right down the middle. In other words, the only thing I enjoy more than reviewing movies like this is sitting back and watching people’s reactions to them. Does that make me as bad as Haneke? Probably not, since I can’t claim I enjoyed watching it nor would I have a strong desire to see it again. No one could. As a film I still don’t know what to make of it, but as a cinematic case study it’s fascinating.

Right from the bright red opening title sequence introducing us to George Farber (Tim Roth), his wife Ann (Naomi Watts) and their 10-year-old son Georgie (Devon Gearhart) Haneke lets us know who’s in charge here. Interrupting the sedate classical music they have playing through the car stereo is the loud thrashing of heavy metal, as they head to their Long Island vacation home for the weekend. While there Ann gets some unexpected company from two polite young men in white polo shirts and gloves who refer to themselves as Peter (Brady Corbet) and Paul (Michael Pitt). They also refer to themselves as “Beavis” and “Butt-Head” and “Tom” and “Jerry” at various points but that’s neither here nor there. It doesn’t matter who they are, but rather, what they’re going to do.

Peter wants to borrow some eggs and has an awkward (at times flat-out creepy) interaction with Ann before “accidentally” dropping them. There’s something really off about this kid and Haneke cleverly but subtly lets us know that Ann’s on to him right away. This brings in Paul, who’s even creepier and the uncomfortable situation escalates into unbearable suspense by the time they shatter George’s leg with a golf club. He wasn’t as clued in as Ann, but now he is. They take the family hostage and place a bet: That none of them will be alive at 9:00 tomorrow morning. The games begin. Both games. The game these sadists are playing with the Farber family and the one Haneke is playing with us. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the two and often they overlap.

Well-spoken and polite the intruders seem almost offended that this family would question what they’re doing or why they’re doing it. Truthfully, there is no why, as is so often the case in random acts of violence. George, as the man of the house reacts to the situation as best he can but he’s still wrong. Anything he does is wrong because these guys aren’t playing by any rules and neither is Haneke. The couple is smart and resourceful but that’s just not enough. The victims exist only to be mocked and laughed at by the perpetrators, one of which (Paul) is fully aware he’s in a film being put on for our “entertainment” and breaks the fourth wall to talk to us. There’s been a lot of hoopla over Haneke implementing this device but everyone has gotten worked up over nothing. Its inclusion doesn’t do damage to the film, nor does it really help it tremendously. It slides right in without distraction and is strategically placed to get the point across. More importantly, though, it isn’t overused. If I had to pick I’d say the controversial method helps.

Are we REALLY rooting for Ann, George and their son or do we just want them to stay around so we can see them suffer more? That’s the question Paul is asking us the audience. Haneke wants us to root for the victims so when we do he can quickly remind us these two psychopaths hold all the cards and there’s nothing we can do about it. We have certain expectations about what a “torture porn” movie like this is supposed to do and what should happen, but Haneke subverts them all. He’s more interested in how we’re viewing it. There’s a scene where Ann disrobes and Haneke refuses to show us anything. He instead wants us to feel guilty for thinking about seeing Naomi Watts topless in a situation like this and punish us for it. I’m not sure he succeeded there since the thought of Watts naked isn’t likely to have me paralyzed with guilt or running to confession anytime soon.

Haneke wants to have his cake and eat it too. It’s awful that we’re watching such filth…but it’s perfectly fine for him to film it? The movie’s centerpiece, an uninterrupted nearly 10-minute long shot of Watts in her underwear struggling to find the fortitude to survive, will have you wondering if Haneke is guilty of the voyeurism he’s trying to condemn. And he probably wants you to wonder. In his defense no matter how he approached this material he would have faced those accusations so it’s almost beside the point. He drags the shot on forever in a blatant attempt to make us feel as uncomfortable as possible, almost daring us to look away. I couldn’t. With all these long, visually meditative takes everything plays almost like a 70’s era film, Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange being the obvious inspiration.

Haneke also accomplishes, maybe as a side effect of his actual goal, what today’s modern horror entries can’t in creating terror without actually showing anything. His goal is to deprive the viewer of exactly what they came to see and he goes out of his way to do it. When a horrible act of violence is committed it happens off-screen as we’re instead forced to watch a character prepare a sandwich in the kitchen.

The victims may be smart and resourceful, but they’re also ignorant and have their heads in the clouds, prisoners of their own false sense of security. They’re oblivious that any chance they have for survival is minimal in a game like this and they fight an uphill battle. George is portrayed as a wimp who, beyond being unable to defend his own family, can’t even bring himself to punch Paul. The most he can muster is an open hand slap.

More uneasiness comes into play with another never-ending scene involving a cell-phone. All possible methods of escape are not only avoided, they’re mocked cruelly, as if Haneke’s thumbing his nose at all those dumb horror movies where we know exactly what will happen next. There comes a point in the story where we expect the tide to turn in a certain direction because it does all the time in films of this genre. Instead, we’re reminded who’s really pulling the strings here with another bold cinematic device. It’s brazen arrogance on the part of Haneke but doing anything else would almost seem like a betrayal of the story. The outcome was predestined and the only thing we could have done to avoid it was to stop watching, but he knew we’d never do that. He may have inadvertently sent horror movie fans running and crying back into the welcoming arms of Eli Roth, who dishes out safe, comfortable mainstream torture porn compared to this.

I always thought it might be interesting to see A-List actors act in a torture porn film. I wondered what it would be like to maybe see Reese Witherspoon or Tom Hanks fighting for their lives in Saw V as they try to escape Jigsaw’s deadly traps. The closest we’re going to get to that is with Roth and Watts here and now I know why not too many do it: It’s an ordeal. I’m not sure why Naomi would agree to be put through the wringer like this but that she has a producing credit on the film indicates this was a project she was passionate about for whatever reason. Roth plays against type as a passive wimp, conceding the spotlight to his co-star who has the more emotionally draining role. And I worry if young Devon Gearhart will be traumatized for life after acting in this film.

While the film may fall way short of A Clockwork Orange one area where it comes close is in Michael Pitt’s brilliant, terrifying embodiment of Paul that would attract awards consideration is this material wasn’t so problematic and the film wasn’t dumped into limited release in March. Brady Corbet has the quieter, less showy role as the shy, socially inept Peter but we’re never sure how much of that is a put-on. Both actors skirt the line between preppy annoyance and cold-blooded sadism like skilled pros.

Right now anyone reading this knows something I don’t: What my star rating for this film is. Usually I have a good idea what it is before I type a review, but sometimes I don’t until it’s completed. This is one of those times. But whatever it is it can’t be interpreted as a “recommendation” or any kind of admission that I “enjoyed it.” This isn’t a film you can enjoy or recommend.

I’m convinced a zero star review of this film would read exactly the same as one that’s a four-stars. 2 people could take the same things out of this movie with one loving it and the other hating it and they’d both be completely right. It’s just that kind of film. Maybe I’m just happy these days when anything gets me to think or argue. In trying to make a serious statement about the world we live in and turn the camera on us, Haneke has unintentionally turned it on himself. As a deep examination of violence in the media Funny Games may be a joke, but as an experience, it’s impossible to shake.

The Heartbreak Kid

Directors: Bobby and Peter Farrelly
Starring: Ben Stiller, Michelle Monaghan, Malin Akerman, Jerry Stiller, Robb Corddry, Carlos Mencia
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: R

** (out of ****)

The Heartbreak Kid is a flat, lifeless comedy that's easily one of the worst efforts of the Farrelly Brothers' previously successful careers. They can take pride in the fact that they didn't write the script this time so at least some of the blame falls elsewhere. At its center is maybe the most annoying, obnoxious character to appear on screen this year. Every second we spend with her is infinitely more painful for us than the almost equally unlikable main character in the film. Very early on I found myself impatiently counting down the minutes to when Michelle Monaghan would come in and attempt to save the film, thinking that she'd really have her work cut out for her this time.

Unsurprisingly, things get significantly better upon her arrival but it lasts only a fleeting moment, as the stupidity of the screenplay kicks into overdrive again just in time for the final act. It's here where a movie that started as just a somewhat realistically grounded exercise in stupidity makes a huge detour into insane fantasyland, taking all the actors with it. This is a remake of the 1972 comedy starring Charles Grodin and Cybill Shepherd and I don't think it's unfair of me to say, despite having never seen the original, that it must be far superior to this. It even seems to have been made with a certain degree of laziness and it's the first of the Farrelly films that should have gone direct-to-DVD. The only reason anyone could have any interest in seeing this is because of Monaghan, who deserves a medal of honor for somehow managing to give a good performance in a film this bad.

Eddie Kantro (Ben Stiller) is a single sporting goods store owner unlucky at love, drowning his sorrows at his ex-girlfriend's wedding where he's the unwitting subject of the groom's toast. That toast, and his seating placement at the event, are pretty much the only laughs we get during this entire picture. Unfortunately both are out of the way within the first five minutes and there's still over ninety left to go. With his father (Jerry Stiller) hounding him about his inability to find a good woman and settle down things do start to look up. After coming to the aid of beautiful young purse snatching victim, Lila (Malin Akerman) they eventually start seeing each other and he gives into temptation, marrying her on a whim despite having only dated her for a couple of weeks. It's on their way to the honeymoon that this movie goes straight to hell.

It soon becomes painfully obvious to Eddie (and unfortunately us as well) that Lila is a complete lunatic. Why this revelation is just now coming to the surface I have no idea. What were they doing the whole time they were dating? Lila's borderline psychotic tendencies are so over-the-top and unbelievable you'd think they'd have presented themselves right away. This isn't just a case of someone misrepresenting themselves. They go many steps too far when the lame-brained screenplay has Lila reveal all these irritating facets of her personality. No one would ever behave like this, but more importantly, it's not humorous. Sure, Eddie has to put up with it...but so do we.

Then there's the awful, grating performance of Akerman that deserves Razzie Award consideration. I could call her a Cameron Diaz clone (since she was only cast because of the slight physical resemblance) but that would be an insult to a talented actress with charisma. Even if you're not a Diaz fan, you will be after you witness Akerman's lifeless imitation of her. By casting a look alike the Farrelly Brothers hoped to recapture the magic of There's Something About Mary. Except that movie was funny.

It's on their honeymoon that Eddie runs into Miranda (Monaghan) and because she's so likable the film does have a little streak going in the middle act where it's actually quite good. The encounters with her feel real because she actually seems like a real person and for just a moment the movie accurately captures that feeling when you're on vacation and meet someone that completely floors you. Naturalness is a tough quality to convey but Monaghan makes it look easy, confirming suspicions that Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang wasn't a fluke and she deserves a promotion to the A-list.

Even her family seem like regular, everyday people not stereotyped movie characters. They interact with each other like real family members would and the jokes they shared amongst one another were funny, unlike much of the crude humor that permeates through the rest of the film. This got my hopes up that things were actually taking a more intelligent turn. Those hopes were smashed when the movie goes off the deep end reminding us that Stiller's character is a selfish, two-timing creep.

As bad as Lila is, Eddie's worse, lying, stringing her along, and seeing this other woman behind her back. Even worse he's lying to Miranda and her family, the only likable characters in the movie. And we're supposed to root for this guy? Of course the time will come when Eddie's double dealing is exposed to both women and the consequences were far stupider than I could have imagined in even my wildest dreams. The last half hour of the film is just a train wreck.

I'm sure I'm making this sound worse than it is only because I expect so much more from talents like Bobby and Peter Farrelly. The tone of the film is also off. It seems like a really lightweight romantic comedy but then, out of nowhere, an unusually crude or hurtful comment would come out of a character's mouth or something really gross would occur. The Farellys are usually good at balancing this type of thing, but here it seems like someone took a PG-rated script and scribbled profanities on it with a red magic marker. Comedian Carlos Mencia has a small, unfunny role in the film. I don't know much about him other than that I heard his comedy is supposedly edgy. Nothing about this movie is edgy.

I did realize something very important while watching this: Ben Stiller just isn't believable playing a nice guy. There's this undercurrent of nastiness to all his behaviors and mannerisms and he has problems conveying sincerity. It's been a trend throughout his career and if you look back, all his effective comic roles have been as villains. Even when he just cameos as a nefarious character (like in Happy Gilmore or The Cable Guy) he's far more successful.

Stiller has no chemistry with either of the female leads, something you could easily justify with Akerman, but that he has none with Monaghan is pathetic. No excuses on that one. She'd be able to create chemistry with a brick wall. By the end of The Heartbreak Kid I was thinking my time would have been better spent watching a career retrospective on professional wrestler Shawn Michaels. Yes, love blows. And so does this movie.

Rob Zombie's Halloween

Director: Rob Zombie
Starring: Malcolm McDowell, Tyler Mane, Scout Taylor-Compton, Daeg Faerch, Sheri Moon Zombie, William Forsythe, Brad Dourif, Danielle Harris, Kristina Klebe
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

***1/2 (out of ****)

Spoiler Warning!!! This review discusses some major plot points.

No, I'm not among those who believe remaking John Carpenter's Halloween is sacrilege. The franchise was completely dead in the water, marred by countless sequels of alarmingly low quality. Michael Myers, once one of the most feared screen villains had been turned into a joke. If we were going to revisit Haddonfield it was going to have to be with fresh eyes. This was a rare case where a complete reboot of the franchise was the only possible direction to go.

When it was first announced Rob Zombie would be helming a "re-imagining" of Halloween it's been fun to track the reaction from horror fans. At first there was outrage and disbelief, but slowly as the release date drew nearer there was a shift in opinion of sorts. I almost got the impression that while no one could honestly claim the endeavor was necessary at all, they were kind of pulling for him to be able to pull it off. Part of this could have stemmed from a feeling of helplessness. The film was going to be remade whether anyone wanted it to be or not and accompanying it was this strange sense of relief that Zombie had the job. His previous efforts, House of 1,000 Corpses, and to a much larger degree, The Devil's Rejects showed a nostalgic appreciation for the genre and hinted that he might have it in him to pull it off. If nothing else, Carpenter's classic story was in the hands of somebody who respected it and would be careful, even if there would be no doubt he'd try to make it his own.

I was listening to a radio interview with Zombie where he said he made two phone calls to John Carpenter. The first came before shooting began to let him know what he was doing. The second came after it wrapped to tell him he was finished. That was the extent of Carpenter's involvement. Now the question that has been weighing on hardcore horror fans minds for months is "What exactly happened in between those two calls?" Everyone has held their collective breath, almost afraid to look. Would it be another remake hatchet job along the lines of Gus Van Sant's Psycho? Or more of a pedestrian recycling like The Omen or The Hitcher? The answer is neither.

The first forty-five minutes to one hour of Zombie's Halloween could almost be considered perfect, which at once stands as both its biggest strength and weakness. By staging the first half how he does, Zombie makes a controversial trade-off. Whether or not you feel this trade-off was worth making will likely determine your opinion of the film. In choosing to focus so much on the back story of young Michael Myers, Zombie inevitably sacrifices some fright and suspense to give us a more psychologically complex story. It's a double-edged sword and a huge gamble that makes this more of a character study than a conventional horror film.

The demystification of Michael Myers begins immediately as we're thrust into the home of the poster family for white trash America. It's Haddonfield, Illinois circa early '90's and young Michael (Daeg Faerch) is a disturbed, angry kid with an unhealthy obsession wearing masks and torturing small animals. Problems on the home front are at least partially to blame. Mom Deborah (Sheri Moon Zombie) is a stripper with an abusive alcoholic (William Forsythe) as a live-in boyfriend and sister Judith (Hanna Hall) is an obnoxious slut. This combined with some serious bullying at school pushes Michael closer to the edge. The only affection he seems capable of showing is to his mother and his baby sister who he lovingly refers to as "Boo."

Zombie makes an interesting choice with the casting of Faerch. Yes, he's creepy but it's not his creepiness that is most noticeable. That wouldn't be scary. It's his anger. Anger that many kids would feel if cornered and put in the same situation. The notion that Michael Myers isn't merely just a monster, but a disturbed human being that could reside in anyone is scarier than any of the brutality that will occur later. Zombie knows this and just builds and builds until the breaking point finally comes. When it does and we hear the familiar strains of John Carpenter's classic theme (interpreted rather faithfully by Tyler Bates) it feels like a huge moment. That it's used sparingly throughout the film only helps. The debut of the infamous mask is even more effective and nerve rattling when it arrives. Zombie does his best to put his own twist on its re-debut and it's very clever and original. It's clear he respects the lineage and does his best to make the moment feel important. After all, it is.

Sheri Moon Zombie doesn't give just a good performance as Michael's mother, but a terrific one. She brings a surprising amount of emotional depth to a woman who loves her son, but knows deep down that something is terribly wrong. She wants to help, but can't bring herself to. The idea that this monster lies inside her son proves too big a burden to bare. Her conflicted performance and sell-job of the material early in the picture makes Zombie's controversial decisions later on go down a little easier.

By introducing Dr. Samuel Loomis (Malcolm McDowell) into the equation right away a unique bond is forged between him and Michael that goes a little deeper than in Carpenter's version. For some reason, there have been a lot of criticisms leveled against McDowell's reinterpretation and I can't understand why. His work here is as good if not better than Donald Pleasance's highly over-praised portrayal of the character, which just grew more ridiculous with each ill-fated installment of the franchise. In Pleasance's defense though, no one could have done anything with the increasingly cartoonish material and dialogue he was saddled with as the series wore on. The handling of Dr. Loomis' relationship with Michael may be the one thing this film does better than the original. I'd even go so far as to say this is the most interesting role McDowell's had since you know what. In trying to understand how a 10-year old boy could cause such carnage Dr. Loomis gets nowhere for fifteen straight years until Michael's institutional escape (depicted in unflinchingly violent detail). This leads an embattled, conflicted Loomis to Haddonfield and us into the more problematic territory of Zombie's film.

Interestingly, Zombie plants seeds of doubt as to what Michael Myers motives are in returning home to find his baby sister Laurie Strode (Scout-Taylor Compton), since adopted and now in high school. In the original film we knew he was coming back to kill her. Here, he may be, but we're not completely sure. That mysterious element adds some much needed tension and suspense to the latter portion of the film. Zombie also really understands the town of Haddonfield. It looks and feels like the one from the original with some nice little details and homage's thrown in to Carpenter's classic which I won't spoil. Fans will quickly notice what they are.

It's in this latter section of the film where Zombie makes the polarizing decision to edge closer to the content of the original, even going so far as to recreate certain scenes and events from it. This makes for a strange viewing experience given what came before it and I couldn't help but be reminded just how strong Carpenter's film really was as I watched (and this coming from someone who doesn't think the original is the greatest thing he's ever seen).

Scout Taylor-Compton is faced with the unenviable task of filling Jamie Lee Curtis' shoes as one of the most memorable horror movie heroines of all time. Her job is made that much harder by the fact Zombie gives her less than half of Curtis' screen time, cramming nearly all of the original's story into the last hour as he makes a mad dash toward the finish line. Things can't help but feel a little rushed, which forces Compton to do much heavier lifting acting-wise than Curtis did.

Comparing the two performances would be unfair since the character serves two entirely different functions in each film. This movie is all about Michael Myers. But I will say Compton does make Laurie Strode her own. I could swear I had babysitters who acted exactly like that. She just nails it, investing her with just the right amount of toughness and innocence. More importantly, she seems like a real teenager. Unfortunately her friends, Linda and Annie (played by Kristina Klebe and Danielle Harris respectively) aren't rendered nearly as well, although not so badly that it would bring back painful memories of the teens in Halloweens 4 and 5. I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed Danielle Harris, who heroically carried those two awful films on her back as a child actress, didn't make a bigger impression here. In her defense, she's not given a lot to work with.

It's ironic that what ends up saving Zombie's minor miscalculations in the second half was his incredible commitment to and brilliant execution of the Myers back story earlier. Because of it, there's an aura of importance surrounding Michael Myers the likes of which we haven't seen since Carpenter's original. Unlike the inferior sequels there's no winking at the audience here. This man is a dangerous killing machine with a purpose. Having the physically gargantuan ex-pro wrestler Tyler Mane in the role helps. One of the many problems with the sequels was that the actors playing Myers weren't physically imposing enough to be causing the damage the character was capable of. Here, that's definitely not an issue. He also moves more fluidly and realistically than in the other films, where the character's movements seemed jerky and robotic. You'll have to look closely to notice, but the attention to detail is such that Mane's movements and mannerisms are nearly identical to young Daeg Faerch's from earlier in the film.

But by establishing what drives Michael, has Zombie really made his actions more or less terrifying? That will be the basis for much argument among fans. Obviously by showing us who's behind the mask a certain amount of mystery and suspense will be lost. Maybe some fear as well. Some of you may not be willing to trade that in to be given a story with deeper psychological implications. I am. What Zombie creates here is a different kind of fear. A fear not of the unknown, but the known. The knowledge that Michael Myers may not just be a nameless, faceless psychopath but a real person with a past and a set of circumstances that contributed to the carnage. That combined with the physical presence of Myers lends engulfs the latter portion of the film in a different kind of terror. Is that scarier than not knowing? Maybe not, but it carries a lot of weight and gives THIS MOVIE some much needed emotional pull. A little psychological complexity can never hurt any film, remake or not. Late in the film comes a powerful scene between Myers and Laurie that convinced me Zombie not only made the right decision, but wasn't just trying to resurrect a dying franchise for a quick buck. In it it's clear that he never lost sight of the source material and approached it less as a director than as a caretaker entrusted by Carpenter to reinterpret his masterpiece. It's a job he apparently took very seriously.

I do think Zombie tries to do a little too much toward the end and I could have done with less of the dizzying camera work. Many may complain he "shows too much" in this film but I've become resigned to the fact that we've entered a new era in the horror genre and we'll never see anything like what Carpenter did again. Today's horror audiences want (or are at least are conditioned) to see more gore so it's a compromise we'll have to live with. Besides, I wouldn't, under any circumstances, have wanted Zombie to shoot the film exactly like Carpenter did. That would be pointless. If you're shocked by the amount of blood and violence in a Rob Zombie movie you probably shouldn't be watching one. However, that's not to say this film isn't suspenseful because it is. The scares are there in spades, just in a different, more abusive form.

Despite being a remake of a horror classic there's no mistaking that Zombie's grungy grindhouse fingerprints are all over it. He employs his usual troupe of actors, which in addition to Sheri Moon and Forsythe include, Bill Moseley, Leslie Easterbrook, Sid Haig and Danny Trejo. He also throws in some fun roles for Sybil Danning, Brad Dourif, Dee Wallace, Clint Howard and Micky Dolenz. Yes, that Micky Dolenz. Turns out I'm not crazy and that really was the ex-Monkee cameoing as a gun store owner. Everyone makes an impression with the screen time they're given, but Trejo makes the biggest as an orderly who befriends Myers, or at least thinks he does. Zombie litters the soundtrack at just the right moments with classic rock staples like Nazareth's "Love Hurts," Rush's "Tom Sawyer," and in case you're having cowbell withdrawal, Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear The Reaper." It works and everything fits like a glove.

Going into this "re-imagining" my secret wish was that we'd get a radically different ending than the original that provides more closure. The final scene of Carpenter's film deserves to rank among the most unsatisfying endings of any great film, right up there with the psychiatrists long-winded babbling at the close of Hitchcock's Psycho. It may be the film's only flaw. Had Carpenter closed it out (or at least tried give us the illusion he had) we may not have had to suffer through all those terrible sequels that destroyed the franchise's reputation and I wouldn't even be reviewing a remake right now. If Zombie had all of Haddonfield explode in a giant mushroom cloud before the closing credits it could be considered an improvement. He doesn't, but he does provide slightly more closure. The ending mostly works, but I can't say it left me craving for sequels. That's probably a compliment. I think, like the original, this film's reputation would only be harmed if it doesn't remain a stand-alone effort.

What's strangest about this movie is that the more Zombie departs from the source material the stronger it makes the film. This is likely because even when he veers off the map, he never loses sight of the origin story. I've seen better remakes, but I'm not sure I've ever seen a remake where the respect for the original comes across onscreen like it does here. You can almost feel it. Much like his House of 1000 Corpses, it has its problems, but even those are fascinating to watch and technically this is Zombie's most confident, cohesive effort behind the camera. You could stop this film frame by frame examining all of the interesting choices Zombie made. I may not agree with some of his decisions, but I understand why he made them and respect the hell out of him for having the balls to do it.

I noticed that when this film opened hardly a single review appeared in any media publication in the country even though it was screened for critics. Then after it set Labor Day weekend box office records, one and a half and two star reviews started popping up everywhere. Of course, these reviews immediately assigned the film the stupid, ignorant label of "torture porn," when in this case it couldn't have possibly been less applicable. This is one of the few cases where gore and violence actually take a backseat to psychological depth and character development. Did they even watch it?

I find it funny that horror is the only genre left that's perfectly acceptable to discriminate against. Even when critics praise the great ones like Carpenter's Halloween and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre it's as a backhanded compliment. They're great "horror movies," just not "great films." But those in the know are always aware that when a great horror movie comes along it's as much a work of art as any Oscar-baiting war or romance drama. Zombie's Halloween isn't in the same league as those two aforementioned classics, but in the very least it deserves to be judged on its own terms. Those who do that are destined to walk away satisfied.