The Awl http://www.theawl.com/ Be Less Stupid Fri, 01 Apr 2011 12:18:01 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0.2 ‘Insidious’ and the Sacred Rules of Ghost Movies http://www.theawl.com/2011/04/%e2%80%98insidious%e2%80%99-and-the-sacred-rules-of-ghost-movies http://www.theawl.com/2011/04/%e2%80%98insidious%e2%80%99-and-the-sacred-rules-of-ghost-movies#comments Fri, 01 Apr 2011 12:18:01 +0000 Melissa Lafsky http://www.theawl.com/2011/04/%e2%80%98insidious%e2%80%99-and-the-sacred-rules-of-ghost-movies What happens when James Wan, the Sultan of Saw (which, let us never forget, is the most important film series ever made) makes an old-school ghost movie?

Well, for one, he steals. From Argento, Polanski, Spielberg, Amenábar, even Shyamalan (who, let us not forget, did make one great ghost movie). And yes, James Wan even steals from himself. When faced with the prospect of a meat-and-potatoes horror film, the maestro of torture fetish has spackled together bits and shards from nearly everything in the genre, forming a pasty drywall that’s scary in some places, and just silly in others. And thus we have Insidious—in theaters today!

Do you really need me to tell you the premise of this movie? No, you don’t. It’s a formula that’s fueled countless ghost stories through countless decades (well, ok, around ten decades). Ridiculously attractive family enjoys the spoils of suburban life, with strapping dad (Patrick Wilson) heading off to work while fragile mom (Rose Byrne) writes girl-folk music and minds her brood. They wear matching PJs and drive SUVs and traipse through their well-appointed mahogany-paneled McMansion, until something goes… wrong. Something SPOOKY! Bumps in the night, doors creaking louder than a supersonic jet, windows mysteriously cracking at 100 decibels (seriously, this movie is LOUD), and all of it centered around a sweet, overly-shrewd child who winds up in a coma. Beautiful mother is besieged with fear and grief, while stoic husband bears it all. The marriage frays, the other children cower, the ghosts get nastier, and then… well, Jigsaw shows up? (No, that’s not a spoiler.)

The reason this premise is a cliché, of course, is because the cliché WORKS. There is nothing more terrifying than a big suburban house (seriously: I will only live in apartments). And there is no character more poignant and empathy-rousing than a terrorized child (or the terrorized mother trying to save him).
But to transform a cliché into a great horror movie, you need technique, and pacing—the slow, gradual reveal, the building of dread and unease that mounts until your chest hurts and your knuckles crack. Classic ghost-in-the-house films can have you reaching for an oxygen mask and crawling under your chair by the second half, even over something seemingly-mundane (remember the ball bouncing down the stairs in The Changeling? Yeah, me too, since I was shrieking like a tween watching Justin Bieber die by chainsaw).

The key to all this ghostly mastery, of course, is SUBTLETY. Shadows, dark corners, strange noises, all presented with patience and nuance and skill. So now you see the problem: Is there anything remotely subtle about Saw? Take away the bone-crushing machines and vats of hypodermic needles, and what are the Saw films really? Some cheap sets, a crazy albino, and a fetid shitpile of terrible acting. Which is essentially what we get with Insidious.

To be fair, despite all the clumsiness and mess, the first hour or so is pretty friggin’ scary. While Wan falls victim to every trap in the Ghost Gospel—excessive melodrama at every spooky sighting, screechy violins for every self-opening door, revealing the first ghost (a carbon copy of Vigo from Ghostbusters 2) way too soon—he does have a flair for using sound and mechanics in a horror film. Say what you will about Saw, but those death contraptions looked and sounded terrifying, and he puts those skills to use here.

But around two-thirds of the way through, it all devolves into mush. Specifically, we take a dive when Wan breaks Commandment Number ONE in ghost lore: Thou shalt not overexplain. Ghosts cannot be rationalized. There is no place for them in logic. Attempting to re-cast them within the sphere of lucid thinking will destroy your entire movie. (Remember the whole “demon expert” scene in Paranormal Activity? Remember how it was boring as shit?)

So when Byrne calls in “The People Who Can Help,” they proceed to steer the movie off a cliff. Wan can get away with stealing, and over-showing, and over-soundtracking, and even absurd character set-ups (I mean, Jesus: a four-bedroom house, an SUV and six months of medical bills on a lone teacher’s salary?). But when a set of hipster ghostbusters show up to help an old lady perform a séance in a gas mask, you officially know your movie has been composted into mineralized waste.

From there, it just gets laughable—which is a shame, since this one could have gone any number of ways. Even a Jigsaw cameo would have been preferable. At least he could have tossed in a catchy tagline.



Melissa Lafsky wants to be scared by your movie.

---

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]]> What happens when James Wan, the Sultan of Saw (which, let us never forget, is the most important film series ever made) makes an old-school ghost movie?

Well, for one, he steals. From Argento, Polanski, Spielberg, Amenábar, even Shyamalan (who, let us not forget, did make one great ghost movie). And yes, James Wan even steals from himself. When faced with the prospect of a meat-and-potatoes horror film, the maestro of torture fetish has spackled together bits and shards from nearly everything in the genre, forming a pasty drywall that’s scary in some places, and just silly in others. And thus we have Insidious—in theaters today!

Do you really need me to tell you the premise of this movie? No, you don’t. It’s a formula that’s fueled countless ghost stories through countless decades (well, ok, around ten decades). Ridiculously attractive family enjoys the spoils of suburban life, with strapping dad (Patrick Wilson) heading off to work while fragile mom (Rose Byrne) writes girl-folk music and minds her brood. They wear matching PJs and drive SUVs and traipse through their well-appointed mahogany-paneled McMansion, until something goes… wrong. Something SPOOKY! Bumps in the night, doors creaking louder than a supersonic jet, windows mysteriously cracking at 100 decibels (seriously, this movie is LOUD), and all of it centered around a sweet, overly-shrewd child who winds up in a coma. Beautiful mother is besieged with fear and grief, while stoic husband bears it all. The marriage frays, the other children cower, the ghosts get nastier, and then… well, Jigsaw shows up? (No, that’s not a spoiler.)

The reason this premise is a cliché, of course, is because the cliché WORKS. There is nothing more terrifying than a big suburban house (seriously: I will only live in apartments). And there is no character more poignant and empathy-rousing than a terrorized child (or the terrorized mother trying to save him).
But to transform a cliché into a great horror movie, you need technique, and pacing—the slow, gradual reveal, the building of dread and unease that mounts until your chest hurts and your knuckles crack. Classic ghost-in-the-house films can have you reaching for an oxygen mask and crawling under your chair by the second half, even over something seemingly-mundane (remember the ball bouncing down the stairs in The Changeling? Yeah, me too, since I was shrieking like a tween watching Justin Bieber die by chainsaw).

The key to all this ghostly mastery, of course, is SUBTLETY. Shadows, dark corners, strange noises, all presented with patience and nuance and skill. So now you see the problem: Is there anything remotely subtle about Saw? Take away the bone-crushing machines and vats of hypodermic needles, and what are the Saw films really? Some cheap sets, a crazy albino, and a fetid shitpile of terrible acting. Which is essentially what we get with Insidious.

To be fair, despite all the clumsiness and mess, the first hour or so is pretty friggin’ scary. While Wan falls victim to every trap in the Ghost Gospel—excessive melodrama at every spooky sighting, screechy violins for every self-opening door, revealing the first ghost (a carbon copy of Vigo from Ghostbusters 2) way too soon—he does have a flair for using sound and mechanics in a horror film. Say what you will about Saw, but those death contraptions looked and sounded terrifying, and he puts those skills to use here.

But around two-thirds of the way through, it all devolves into mush. Specifically, we take a dive when Wan breaks Commandment Number ONE in ghost lore: Thou shalt not overexplain. Ghosts cannot be rationalized. There is no place for them in logic. Attempting to re-cast them within the sphere of lucid thinking will destroy your entire movie. (Remember the whole “demon expert” scene in Paranormal Activity? Remember how it was boring as shit?)

So when Byrne calls in “The People Who Can Help,” they proceed to steer the movie off a cliff. Wan can get away with stealing, and over-showing, and over-soundtracking, and even absurd character set-ups (I mean, Jesus: a four-bedroom house, an SUV and six months of medical bills on a lone teacher’s salary?). But when a set of hipster ghostbusters show up to help an old lady perform a séance in a gas mask, you officially know your movie has been composted into mineralized waste.

From there, it just gets laughable—which is a shame, since this one could have gone any number of ways. Even a Jigsaw cameo would have been preferable. At least he could have tossed in a catchy tagline.



Melissa Lafsky wants to be scared by your movie.

---

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]]> http://www.theawl.com/2011/04/%e2%80%98insidious%e2%80%99-and-the-sacred-rules-of-ghost-movies/feed 1 Horror Chick, With Melissa Lafsky: Why the 'Saw' Movies Are the Most Important Films Ever Made (No, Really) http://www.theawl.com/2009/10/horror-chick-with-melissa-lafsky-why-the-saw-movies-are-the-most-important-films-ever-made-no-really http://www.theawl.com/2009/10/horror-chick-with-melissa-lafsky-why-the-saw-movies-are-the-most-important-films-ever-made-no-really#comments Fri, 23 Oct 2009 12:15:53 +0000 Melissa Lafsky http://www.theawl.com/2009/10/horror-chick-with-melissa-lafsky-why-the-saw-movies-are-the-most-important-films-ever-made-no-really THIS COULD BE YOU, PIG!There are many, many things more fun than watching the Saw movies. Like eating acid-coated glass shards. Or starring in Japanese vomit porn. Or dating a novelist. All of these rank infinitely higher on the enjoyment scale than actually sitting through the unholy torture-fetish buffet that is Saw. And yet it's the most popular horror franchise in history. Seriously, it is-at this point James Wan could slice open his tongue, lick blood on a page, Lionsgate would produce it, and it'd do $60 million in domestic box office alone.

The first Saw was entertaining for one reason only: "Is Wesley from Princess Bride SERIOUSLY gonna saw his own foot off?" And then he does, and you go "Well that was interesting." After that? The films attain a color and clarity of shit so high that it could be mined by Liberian warlords. Forehead-slappable acting, plots with less substance than an edible G-string, and grisly, awful torture scenes. I mean really viscerally unpleasant stuff. When you find yourself differentiating between the sequels by saying "It's the one where the chick gets tossed into the vat of dirty hypodermic needles" or "It's the one where the drunk driver has his arms and legs twisted off in that giant machine" you know something is wrong. There's no scare here. There's no psychological dread or built-up suspense. There's just the human body, and all of the sick disgusting things that can be done to it.

Oh and then there's Jigsaw, the most pompous serial killer in history. "Once you're in Hell, only the devil can help you out"-who SAYS shit like that?? Granted, he has his whole punishment-doling "What would you do to survive?" ideology. Murderers with ideologies are always more interesting-Idi Amin, Charles Manson, Carl Spackler. Plus Jigsaw's got that whole "dying of a terminal illness" thing, which is a nice twist. But why does he have to look like Rutger Hauer crossed with Sinead O' Connor's fetus? Plus who's funding all these large-scale torture operations? Booby-trapped houses and deadly nerve gas and rooms full of razor wire don't just purchase themselves. Is there some VC firm doling out cash for early-stage, potential-high-growth torture sprees?

But the REAL question is: Why the hell are these chunks of cinematic shite so popular? The answer is simple: American guilt. We're all thrashing around in a culture built on Me-ism-I want mine, I'll do whatever it takes to get it, and fuck everybody else. And deep down in places we don't talk about at parties, we KNOW we're steeped in a moral wasteland, and that we're little better than most criminals for spending our time worrying about how many panda-skin Jimmy Choos we can buy while a single mother of four works three jobs and still can't afford to have a fucking cavity filled.

The beauty of these movies is that they're blank slates to assuage our guilt-the scenarios are so ambiguous (random people plucked from ordinary assholery) and the characters so bland, they allow every one of us to imagine we're the guilty douche in the torture chamber/poisoned house/corpse-sprinkled public bathroom. And they let us feel better, by presenting someone worse than us (drug dealers, wife beaters), and creating some sort of internal justice system. "Sure, I wrote a few misogynistic blog comments and scowled at a homeless man, but THAT guy killed a kid with his car! He's worse than me! He deserves to have his extremities slowly twisted off by a giant Medieval crucifix!"

Bottom line: We're headed for a cultural revolution in this country-one hopes!-and it'll come down to the Me-ists versus those who believe in humanity's inherent social responsibility. The Saw movies are a perfect tool to prepare for this-they're creating an organic sense of order. So when Rome burns and the Hieronymus Bosch shit starts in earnest, we'll have a system of punishment all worked out. If you're a "Why should I pay higher taxes so the poor can have healthcare-I work hard for my money!" then it's the Iron Maiden for you. "Why should I give a shit if overseas military contractor women are getting raped-they joined up! They asked for it!" You get thumbscrews. "Why should I pay for content on the Internet-I should have everything I want for little to no cost! I'm an American, dammit!" Twisting Crucifix, with a side of nerve gas.

Oh, and yeah, Saw VI opens today. Go see it and stuff.

Melissa Lafsky really likes horror movies.

---

See more posts by Melissa Lafsky

35 comments

]]> THIS COULD BE YOU, PIG!There are many, many things more fun than watching the Saw movies. Like eating acid-coated glass shards. Or starring in Japanese vomit porn. Or dating a novelist. All of these rank infinitely higher on the enjoyment scale than actually sitting through the unholy torture-fetish buffet that is Saw. And yet it's the most popular horror franchise in history. Seriously, it is-at this point James Wan could slice open his tongue, lick blood on a page, Lionsgate would produce it, and it'd do $60 million in domestic box office alone.

The first Saw was entertaining for one reason only: "Is Wesley from Princess Bride SERIOUSLY gonna saw his own foot off?" And then he does, and you go "Well that was interesting." After that? The films attain a color and clarity of shit so high that it could be mined by Liberian warlords. Forehead-slappable acting, plots with less substance than an edible G-string, and grisly, awful torture scenes. I mean really viscerally unpleasant stuff. When you find yourself differentiating between the sequels by saying "It's the one where the chick gets tossed into the vat of dirty hypodermic needles" or "It's the one where the drunk driver has his arms and legs twisted off in that giant machine" you know something is wrong. There's no scare here. There's no psychological dread or built-up suspense. There's just the human body, and all of the sick disgusting things that can be done to it.

Oh and then there's Jigsaw, the most pompous serial killer in history. "Once you're in Hell, only the devil can help you out"-who SAYS shit like that?? Granted, he has his whole punishment-doling "What would you do to survive?" ideology. Murderers with ideologies are always more interesting-Idi Amin, Charles Manson, Carl Spackler. Plus Jigsaw's got that whole "dying of a terminal illness" thing, which is a nice twist. But why does he have to look like Rutger Hauer crossed with Sinead O' Connor's fetus? Plus who's funding all these large-scale torture operations? Booby-trapped houses and deadly nerve gas and rooms full of razor wire don't just purchase themselves. Is there some VC firm doling out cash for early-stage, potential-high-growth torture sprees?

But the REAL question is: Why the hell are these chunks of cinematic shite so popular? The answer is simple: American guilt. We're all thrashing around in a culture built on Me-ism-I want mine, I'll do whatever it takes to get it, and fuck everybody else. And deep down in places we don't talk about at parties, we KNOW we're steeped in a moral wasteland, and that we're little better than most criminals for spending our time worrying about how many panda-skin Jimmy Choos we can buy while a single mother of four works three jobs and still can't afford to have a fucking cavity filled.

The beauty of these movies is that they're blank slates to assuage our guilt-the scenarios are so ambiguous (random people plucked from ordinary assholery) and the characters so bland, they allow every one of us to imagine we're the guilty douche in the torture chamber/poisoned house/corpse-sprinkled public bathroom. And they let us feel better, by presenting someone worse than us (drug dealers, wife beaters), and creating some sort of internal justice system. "Sure, I wrote a few misogynistic blog comments and scowled at a homeless man, but THAT guy killed a kid with his car! He's worse than me! He deserves to have his extremities slowly twisted off by a giant Medieval crucifix!"

Bottom line: We're headed for a cultural revolution in this country-one hopes!-and it'll come down to the Me-ists versus those who believe in humanity's inherent social responsibility. The Saw movies are a perfect tool to prepare for this-they're creating an organic sense of order. So when Rome burns and the Hieronymus Bosch shit starts in earnest, we'll have a system of punishment all worked out. If you're a "Why should I pay higher taxes so the poor can have healthcare-I work hard for my money!" then it's the Iron Maiden for you. "Why should I give a shit if overseas military contractor women are getting raped-they joined up! They asked for it!" You get thumbscrews. "Why should I pay for content on the Internet-I should have everything I want for little to no cost! I'm an American, dammit!" Twisting Crucifix, with a side of nerve gas.

Oh, and yeah, Saw VI opens today. Go see it and stuff.

Melissa Lafsky really likes horror movies.

---

See more posts by Melissa Lafsky

35 comments

]]> http://www.theawl.com/2009/10/horror-chick-with-melissa-lafsky-why-the-saw-movies-are-the-most-important-films-ever-made-no-really/feed 35 New Videogame For "Saw" Is Super Grody http://www.theawl.com/2009/04/new-videogame-for-saw-is-super-grody http://www.theawl.com/2009/04/new-videogame-for-saw-is-super-grody#comments Wed, 15 Apr 2009 09:57:02 +0000 Choire Sicha http://www.theawl.com/2009/04/new-videogame-for-saw-is-super-grody GAH A THING IS ON MY HEAD!Oh, hey, the world's nastiest videogame will be released in October. Get ready, 12-year-olds!

It is called "Saw," cleverly named after all those movies called "Saw." Says an alpha-tester:

Opening the stall door, you're greeted with one of the grossest mini-games I've ever seen in a videogame (and this is still just the first five minutes of Saw): The toilet bowl is full of hypodermic needles, and you have to plunge your hand in and go fishing for the key. You watch a Pain meter fill up as the character's hand moves around the bowl. When it overlaps with the key, you press A to drag the key, and probably several strains of hepatitis, out.

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1 comments

]]> GAH A THING IS ON MY HEAD!Oh, hey, the world's nastiest videogame will be released in October. Get ready, 12-year-olds!

It is called "Saw," cleverly named after all those movies called "Saw." Says an alpha-tester:

Opening the stall door, you're greeted with one of the grossest mini-games I've ever seen in a videogame (and this is still just the first five minutes of Saw): The toilet bowl is full of hypodermic needles, and you have to plunge your hand in and go fishing for the key. You watch a Pain meter fill up as the character's hand moves around the bowl. When it overlaps with the key, you press A to drag the key, and probably several strains of hepatitis, out.

---

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1 comments

]]> http://www.theawl.com/2009/04/new-videogame-for-saw-is-super-grody/feed 1