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Update! The Gateway drug: 'Drag Me To Hell'
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UPDATE: Drag Me to Hell hits DVD today! Rent it, suckers!
Review:
“You must let the darkness in…”
This line spoken by mystic, new-age fortune teller, Rham Jas during a séance (the film’s highpoint) is probably the ultimate bit of advice this uneven, but mostly satisfying “Spook-A-Blast” can offer future cult kiddies who have not yet sipped “The Evil Dead” flavored Kool-Aid and submerged themselves in the glorious world of the absurdly over-the-top, slapstick horror of cult icon, Sam Raimi. “Drag Me to Hell” is a gateway drug. It’s not particularly challenging, nor violent or gory but does contain many of the trademarks of a true master of cult horror.
“Drag Me to Hell” tells the twisted tale of Christine Brown, played with sweet-faced innocence by the lovely Allison Lohman, and her struggle with a curse bestowed upon her by a nasty, denture spewing, candy stealing gypsy named Sylvia Ganush. Christine works as a loan officer at a bank and has been given the tough choice of either extending the already extended loan on the woman’s home or allowing the bank to repossess and leave Sylvia homeless. In the interest of a sweet promotion to Assistant Manager – which she risks losing to the newly hired suck-up, Stu – Christine decides to deny the woman and in return gets herself some regard from her boss and a nice curse from a violent, black-goat spirit called a Lamia.
Christine, a formerly fat farm girl once crowned, “The Pork Queen,” constantly struggles with being the only bright spot in a world of exceeding darkness. She’s surrounded by sexist jerks at work, she tells of the death of her father and the separation from an alcoholic mother and her only companion is her skeptical boyfriend Clay, played by Justin Long, a character I found particularly irritating. He’s a douchy, pretentious, college professor who slaps Christine’s butt as she leaves a room and consistently refers to her as, “baby.” There’s quite a bit of feminist subtext throughout the story as we observe Christine’s loss of what little control she had in a male-dominated world. At work, Christine is treated like a secretary at Sterling Cooper in “Mad Men.” Clay repeatedly acts as if she cannot do anything for herself. And it’s only when she allows that darkness into her heart and makes some fantastically, and hilariously difficult choices does she grow and learn.
The casting of Lohman, who seems like a genuinely sweet woman, is an inspired choice because it only makes the punishment that both the curse and Raimi reign upon her all the more enjoyable. Lohman is put through the ringer here just as Bruce Campbell was in “The Evil Dead” trilogy. Raimi truly delights in pounding his lead performers into submission and you can almost hear him giggling from behind the camera as he dangles Lohman upside down by her foot and smashes her in the face with the invisible fists of the demon spirit.
The film, though entertaining, is a mixed-bag. When we fly into the realm of whacky Raimi-ness the film fires all cylinders. But those moments are a bit too brief and too much of the screen time is wasted with scenes of dialogue. Also the C.G. effects that are used with surprising frequency are distracting and pale in comparison to the practical insanity cult fans have come to expect from a Sam Raimi directed horror flick. There’s one particular gag when Christine faces Sylvia in her shed that would have been marvelously inspired but the C.G. severely detracts from the overall effect.
Aside from a fire hose-like nosebleed which is played for giggles, the movie is blood and guts-free, though Raimi has cleverly replaced them with goopy-goo, maggots and old lady drool. Raimi clearly set out to make a PG-13 rated spook-house-like ride and succeeded admirably, but I can’t help feel that there was still much left to be desired. It’s unfortunate that he’s re-entering the big budget, web-slinging world of Spider-man for his next film(s?). This is the Sam Raimi movie-goers and cult fans need. We live in a world of remakes, sequels and gutless, clueless, PG-13 horror. Raimi is a master, William Castle-like manipulator, a true showmen and the type of artist that modern Hollywood horror is seriously lacking.
We all need a way into this freaky world of cult craziness. We all need that first taste, that nibble, that puff, that sip. We all need a gateway drug and “Drag Me to Hell” is a great sample for the young, modern and curious future cult fan. Hopefully, this film will send little boys and girls running to IMDB and loading their Netflix queues with Mr. Raimi’s wonderful trilogy of slapstick absurdity which hopefully leads to the discovery of the likes of George A. Romero, Tobe Hooper, John Carpenter, Wes Craven, Peter Jackson’s early films and other classics, both foreign and domestic as they work their way forward and backward through the history of cult films.
We all need to let the darkness in eventually. Open up and say, “AHHHHHHH!”
For more info: http://www.dragmetohell.net/
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