The Cabin at the End of the World (2018) by Paul Tremblay: Winner of the Horror Writers' Association Bram Stoker Award for Best Novel of 2018, this novel takes place at a remote vacation cabin in Maine. Gay couple Andrew and Eric and their pre-teen daughter Wen are enjoying their rural vacation when the End of the World starts, maybe, with a mysterious quartet of strangers arriving to tell them that the three of them have a pivotal role to play in the survival or damnation of all mankind.
I was a little surprised to see that this novel won the Bram Stoker -- until I remembered that the Bram Stoker has been increasingly wonky over the years with its selections. The Cabin at the End of the World isn't a bad novel. But it's not up to the standard set by Tremblay's first two horror novels, A Head Full of Ghosts and Disappearance at Devil's Rock.
As the novel ponders the capricious nature of gods and the horrifying precedents of all those Biblical stories that require the literal sacrifice of offspring, the machinery of its plot and the nature of that quartet, what they represent, and how they represent it... the whole thing ends up feeling like an episode of Supernatural, but with less philosophical depth and a lot less hand-to-hand combat.
When tragedy comes, it's moving, but perhaps not to the extent that a more conventional portrayal of supernatural forces might have allowed for. God's machinery and ideology are cheap and threadbare, but the novel itself almost becomes a representation of that concept rather than a critique of it, much less an in-depth examination.
Of course, maybe God isn't involved at all, and maybe the End of the World is not the End of the World. The novel's ending seems less ambiguous than those of Tremblay's first two horror novels. But there's still some wiggle room left for the reader to wonder whether the supernatural was ever involved, or just some folie a sept. Lightly recommended.
Disappearance at Devil's Rock (2016) by Paul Tremblay: In his follow-up to A Head Full of Ghosts, Paul Tremblay again walks a line between supernatural and natural horror with this story of a missing teen in small-town Massachusetts.
Troubled teen Tommy Sanderson -- introvert, zombie-obsessed -- disappears one night while out with his two best friends. He seems to have disappeared into the (real) Borderland State Park. The questions of 'why' and 'how' and 'where' will occupy the rest of the novel.
His best friends Luis and Josh are clearly hiding something. His sister seems to know something. And his mother is also haunted by memories of his father, who deserted them and then disappeared himself, into death after a single-vehicle accident.
Soon, mysterious apparitions (if they are apparitions) and messages start to appear. The mother has a vision of a gruesomely disfigured Tommy. And they everything seems to focus on a Borderland landmark called Devil's Rock.
Except it isn't really called Devil's Rock -- that's the name Tommy and his friends gave to it, without any real provenance. A story about the Devil lurking in the park since time immemorial also seems to be dubious. But strange things keep happening. And getting Luis and Josh to tell the truth about that night seems to become more and more difficult as Tommy's disappearance stretches on.
Tremblay's novel ends up being as much about the sort of secrets that can devastate families, and the sorts of problems that can snowball into horror for teenagers. There's more than a whiff of Lord of the Flies in some of the revelations towards the end of the novel -- but touches of what may or may not be the supernatural throughout also suggest a certain inevitability to Tommy's narrative.
The novel does a nice job of creating believable human evil, in teens or adults, without giving us anything along the lines of teen psychopaths and bad seeds. The entire enterprise tilts a bit more towards sorrow than horror, though there are several scenes of excruciating awfulness.
Tremblay notes in his afterword that the title and some of the novel's concerns are a nod to Picnic at Hanging Rock, with its mystery surrounding the disappearance of a school teacher and several students in Australia. Tremblay's book is ultimately more concrete than that mysterious film, and somewhat more conventional. Recommended.
Us (2019): written and directed by Jordan Peele; starring Lupita Nyong'o (Adelaide Wilson), Winston Duke (Gabe Wilson), Shahadi Wright Joseph (Zora Wilson), Evan Alex (Jason Wilson), Elizabeth Moss (Kitty Tyler), and Tim Heidecker (Josh Tyler):
Jordan Peele again demonstrates an impressive ability to rework genre tropes for shock and social commentary. Here, we start with the doppelganger and end with... well, that would be telling. Peele's first two movies, this and Get Out (2017), have melded genre and social commentary, and been critically and financially successful. It seems to me that Peele is still developing, though, that his best work lies ahead if he stays the course.
The childhood trauma of Lupita Nyong'o's character bleeds into the present when she and her family (the charming Winston Duke, Shahadi Wright Joseph, and Evan Alex) visit her grandparents' cottage in coastal California for the first time in decades. Something happened in a creepy house of mirrors at the local amusement park long ago. Now it's about to happen again.
Nyong'o is terrific as a dominating mother and wife. Winston Duke makes an affable Everydad forced to summon reserves of courage and ass-kicking to protect his family. And daughter Shahadi and son Alex are no slouches when it comes to monster-fighting. If the things they face really are monsters.
With about 25 minutes to go, Us veers into the territory of the totally loopy. To be fair, so did many Twilight Zone episodes in the final Act. There's maybe a bit too much evident straining to make the social commentary explicit and concrete here. But at least there is social commentary. And rabbits! Keep an eye on the videos on that shelf at the beginning -- they are relevant! Recommended.
The Silence (2019): adapted from the Tim Lebbon novel by Carey and Shane Van Dyke; directed by John R. Leonetti; starring Stanley Tucci (Hugh Andrews), Kiernan Shipka (Ally Andrews), Miranda Otto (Kelly Andrews), Kyle Breitkopf (Jude Andrews), Kate Trotter (Lynn), and John Corbett (Glenn):
Competent horror-thriller just as long as you don't think too hard about its central presence. Like A Quiet Place, it pits a small family group against monsters that hunt by sound.
In this case, the monsters come from a recently opened cave system "1000 feet below the Earth" rather than space. They look like the offspring of Gremlins and medieval gargoyles. They breed so fast that they rapidly threaten the Earth. What were they eating in that cave system during their millions of years of imprisonment? One another, I guess.
It's all solid and occasionally squirmy. Don't think too hard about the creatures' sensitivity to sound and the way they swarm it. Or what they ate. Stanley Tucci and Miranda Otto are solid pros. As in A Quiet Place, a deaf daughter plays a key role, along with American sign language. Certainly an adequate time-waster with something of an abrupt ending. Lightly recommended.
The Nun (2018): written by Gary Dauberman and James Wan; directed by Corin Hardy; starring Taissa Farmiga (Sister Irene), Demian Bichir (Father Burke), and Jonas Bloquet (Frenchie): A minor entry in The Conjuring franchise gives us an origin story for the Evil Nun who shows up repeatedly in that franchise. Short story, it's a demon named Valar. Long story... it's a demon named Valar!
It's 1952 and Vatican trouble-shooter Father Burke and novitiate Sister Irene travel to Romania to investigate whether or not a convent/abbey has fallen from Grace. Boy, has it ever! With some help from a local French-Canadian played by a Belgian actor and nicknamed 'Frenchie'* (whew, the creativity), they do battle with the Forces of Evil.
The movie occupies an uneasy and often counter-productive realm between the Roman Catholic horrors of The Exorcist and the demon zombies of the Evil Dead franchise. It all really becomes quite silly, especially once a holy relic containing some of the blood of Jesus Christ shows up. The demon's powers wax and wane according to the plot -- it can seal someone in a grave and bury them, for example, but its minions can be dispatched by ax and shotgun.
Taissa Farmiga is as cute as a button as novitiate and later Sister Irene, sent to fight evil because she had visions as a child. Demien Bichir does what he can with his underwritten priest. Frenchie is, well, Frenchie. What, there were no real French-Canadians available? A few effective jump scares are about all the horror this entry has to offer. Not recommended.
* Alas, not the Jon Lovitz character.
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| I'm Frenchie ! |
Hereditary (2018): written and directed by Ari Aster; starring Alex Wolff (Peter), Gabriel Byrne (Steve), Toni Collette (Annie), and Milly Shapiro (Charlie): As in The Shining or The Exorcist, Hereditary puts a family under malign supernatural pressure and sets the burner to 'Boil.'
Things start slowly but eerily. You get a somewhat weird adolescent daughter (a terrific, odd Milly Shapiro). You get a stressed-out Mom (Toni Collette, superb as usual). You get a well-meaning but somewhat ineffectual Dad (Gabriel Byrne, channeling Donald Sutherland in Ordinary People). And you get a really stressed out teen-aged son (Alex Wolff).
Around the 40-minute mark, something awful happens. Is it just random, horrible luck? Is the supernatural at work here or are we seeing a family whose members -- especially mother and son -- have serious, unresolved psychological issues?
Well, the next 80 minutes or so provide the answer to those and other questions. Hereditary does a nice job of eventually inverting our assumptions about who or what is responsible. It also has more beheadings than A Tale of Two Cities. Along with graveyard robbing, naked cult members leering from the shadows, mysterious lights, impotent authorities, ghostly drawings and writings, people burning alive, and so on, and so forth.
Told in an almost stately, deliberate manner, Hereditary nonetheless traffics in the stuff of Gothic nightmares as it draws to its tense conclusion. It may be too deliberate for some -- I found it exhilarating. I hope to see more from writer-director Ari Aster. He treats both the horror genre and the tropes he used with respect and diligence. Highly recommended.
Unfriended: Dark Web (2018): written and directed by Stephen Susco; starring Colin Woodell (Matias), Stephanie Nogueras (Amaya), Betty Gabriel (Nari), Rebecca Rittenhouse (Serena), Andrew Lees (Damon), Connor Del Rio (AJ), and Savira Windyani (Lexx):
Effective bit of social-network horror, to be watched only on a big screen or two feet away from a computer screen. Or by someone with a really big TV and really good eyesight! This second Unfriended film from the ubiquitous Blumhouse explores paranoia and conspiracy theories and privacy issues where the first explored on-line humiliation and bullying.
The leads are all likable and believably competent in the face of malign hyper-competence. There are genuine shocks amongst the jump-scares. I'm actually looking forward to more movies in this franchise, though I have a feeling that the next one may take place entirely on smartphones. Recommended.
