The Cabin in the Woods

I was interested in The Cabin in the Woods from the moment I saw the poster at the movie theater.  I've always wanted to see a Joss Whedon horror movie, and his co-writer/producer credit here is as close as he's gotten to a classic horror film (unless you count Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I don't).  After a strong recommendation from Judas Pato, I had planned to catch it in theaters, but life got in the way and I waited until it was on Blu Ray.  The only reason I was simply "interested" in this movie and not "pee-my-pants excited" was because co-writer/director Drew Goddard had never actually directed anything before.  Like, at all.  On the one hand, it's not like you have to be a veteran director to make a good horror movie, but a little experience never hurts, right?

Cabin in the Woods starts out the way you might think it should.  A group of college coeds are heading off to a remote cabin to enjoy a weekend of drugs, alcohol and sex.  There is the jock (Chris Hemsworth), the slutty vixen (Anna Hutchinson), the stoner (Marty, played by Fran Kranz), the smart guy (Jesse Williams), and the virgin, Dana (Kristen Connolly).

You know, your average group of twentysomethings that are actually probably thirtysomething

Only...none of them actually fit those cookie-cutter molds.  Except Marty, because he is high as a muthafucka, or (as I like to call it) "awful roommate high."  These kids start out as well-rounded characters, but something just seems to change when they get out of their RV and spend some time in the cabin.  Granted, it's a creepy old cabin.  It's a little scary from the outside, but it has all sorts of mounted animal heads on the wall, and this picture in one of the bedrooms:

This is what you hang in the bathroom to subtly discourage guests

Things get even stranger after the group pokes around in the basement.  There, they find a number of curious objects, including a diary.  When Dana reads an inscription from the diary aloud, it awakens a family of hillbilly zombies from the grave.  Will these innocent coeds be able to fight off this undead terror?  Actually, surprisingly, that's not a big issue.  The better question is why are office workers monitoring everything going on in and around the cabin?  And what kind of a monster is Kevin?

"I'd rank him above the angry molesting tree, but beneath the dismemberment goblins"

In case the whole office-drones thing didn't clue you in, The Cabin in the Woods is not your typical horror movie.  It is, however, extremely aware of typical horror movies.  Specifically, horror movie tropes.  I'll get more into that in a bit, but it should be pointed out to the curious that this is a love letter to the horror movie genre.

If this image doesn't whet your appetite, you may want to try Saw XIII

The acting in The Cabin in the Woods is pretty solid.  The hottest actor in this cast is probably Chris Hemsworth, and it was nice to see him play an everyday sort of guy.  It was odd that his character never seemed to let go of his football (Remember, he's the jock!), but Hemsworth played his part well and showed that he can deliver witty dialogue.  He wasn't the main character, though.  That responsibility falls on Kristen Connolly, who was simply likable.  She didn't really stand out to me, but I never disliked her character and I thought the part was played well.  The standout in the cast was Fran Kranz, and he turned in one of the best stoner performances in cinema history.  He looks and talks kinda like Shaggy, but he had the best lines and delivery in the entire film.

"Like, zoinks!"

Speaking of actors who know a good line when they read it, Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford brought the B-plot to life.  It should be no surprise that these guys work well with witty dialogue, but it never hurts to say it out loud.  One of the nice things about this cast, though, is that they all had the benefit of a pretty clever script, which made otherwise dull roles a bit more fun to watch.  Amy Acker definitely benefited from that, as did Anna Hutchinson and Jesse Williams.  And, hey, Sigourney Weaver had a solid cameo, too.  Really, it didn't matter how many dumb things they were required to do as part of the script; they all knew what to do with the lines they were given.

Although not having Hutchinson sing "Oh, Wolfie" was a missed opportunity

I gave the script a lot of credit for how enjoyable the actors were in The Cabin in the Woods, and I don't think that can be overstated.  I am a big fan of Joss Whedon's quip- and pop-culture-heavy dialogue, and Drew Goddard has a history of working on Whedon's TV shows; when you factor that into my love of horror movies, it's pretty obvious that I am the target audience for The Cabin in the Woods.

I would rent the hell out of that cabin

It's not just the dialogue, though.  There are a ton of references and homages to horror movie cliches, and they're all funny --- the "let's stay together/let's split up" bit was priceless.  And those weren't even the funniest parts!  I almost fell off the couch when the Japanese subplot was resolved with a happy frog.  And the list of names on the betting board...!  There are so many instances of pure gold in this movie that I wanted to do an old-timey prospector jig!

Even better than those little tributes was the way that the script justified the actions of your typical dumb horror movie.  That.  Was.  Brilliant.  There was one notable omission, but I'll touch on that shortly...

Okay, so I liked the acting and writing of The Cabin in the Woods.  How about Drew Goddard's direction?  He did almost everything right.  The production values were excellent.  This movie felt like the same amount of attention went into a detail that was on-screen for a split-second as went into the main characters.

Meet Fornicus, Lord of Bondage and Pain, and star of maybe 3 seconds of this film

The action in this movie looked good, the editing was spot-on in terms of maximizing comedic potential.  The cinematography was...well, it was fairly standard, but I won't hold that against him.  The important thing is that he was able to tell a story, a surprisingly complicated story, in a way that made sense.  I'm sure that the story falls apart a little if you watch with a more critical eye, but there was more than enough polish for me to not notice.  My main gripe with Goddard's direction is that there were no scares in this homage to horror movies.

Cool monsters, yes.  Scares, no.

It felt like the entire focus was on being clever --- which was done quite well, admittedly --- which left the true scares no room to grow.  Even when there was a kill that was well-done, the frequent cutting to the office drones commenting on the next trope robbed The Cabin in the Woods of any sense of suspense or drama.  I actually liked the main characters of this movie.  That never happens in horror flicks!  If you are going to develop these characters, I don't see how you can choose not to make their fates dramatic.

How does this scene not lead to horror gold?!?

That's really the only negative feedback I have for The Cabin in the Woods.  This isn't supposed to be as comedic as Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, but it also has fewer legitimate scares than Club Dread.  These three films have a lot in common (good scripts and gore, for instance), but The Cabin in the Woods is waaay smarter and is technically better in almost every way, except slapstick humor.  And yet the movie seems to outsmart itself at times.  I would have loved to jump in my seat at any point instead of laughing very hard when Thor rides his motorcycle.  For as much as I enjoy this movie --- and rest assured, I will be buying it and re-watching it many times --- I was left a little disappointed by the complete lack of horror.  Maybe I won't mind that lack the next time I watch this, now that I know what's in store, but for now I can only say that it's a lot of fun to watch.

The Rum Diary

I have always enjoyed Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.  Terry Gilliam's bizarre visuals blew me away as a youngster and Johnny Depp's penchant for weirdness was still the defining aspect of his career (remember, this was pre-effeminate-pirate Depp).  While watching the Criterion Collection for F&LiLV, I got to learn a bit about the behind-the-scenes friendship that was formed between Depp and Hunter S. Thompson, F&L's author and the basis for Depp's character.  It's an interesting collection of extras, with Thompson's incomprehensible commentary track and Depp reading his correspondence to Hunter as the primary highlights.   I also learned that Thompson emits random squeals in the middle of conversations and then continues as if nothing had happened; this was so amusing to me and my friends that we nicknamed my car (which frequently had loose belts) "Hunter."

A car only slightly more reliable than my Hunter

The Rum Diary was announced back in 2000, but was stuck in development hell for more than a decade before its eventual release in October 2011.  In the intervening decade, stars dropped in and out of the project, with Johnny Depp being the only constant.  When Thompson died in 2005 (with Depp funding the utterly ridiculous project to disperse his cremains), I was worried that this film would never be made.  When it came out, though, I was worried for a different reason.  Given Hunter's recent passing, The Rum Diary might have become sentimental and not stay true to the bizarre Hunter S. style.  I didn't hear much buzz about the movie, so I waited to watch it, fearing that I may have been right.  For once.

The Rum Diaries follows the exploits of journalist and obvious Hunter S. Thompson analogue Paul Kemp (Johnny Depp) in the late 1950s.  Kemp has traveled to Puerto Rico for a job on a San Juan newspaper, where he is quickly introduced to a few well-known local facts.  First of all, the newspaper is floundering and will probably shut down in a matter of weeks.  Second, Puerto Rico at this time was sharply split between extreme poverty and an American upper-class of robber barons.  Third, and most important of all, Puerto Rico was an easy place to lose yourself in drugs and booze.

...although finding yourself again ain't always pretty

In this environment, Kemp manages to stumble his way into some interesting situations that test his morals.  Yes, he loves being a worthless drunk and taking hallucinogens, but he still wants to accomplish something...although he's not sure just what that may be yet.  He sees where his path can lead him --- toward the hazy rage of his friend/fellow degenerate, Moberg (Giovanni Ribisi), or into ambivalence, like his other journalist pal, Sala (Michael Rispoli) --- and he doesn't seem determined to avoid that fate.  He also (improbably) falls in with a powerful and obscenely wealthy crowd, thanks to a smooth-talking realtor named Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart).  There, he sees and hears many things, and he realizes how easy it would be to do some very bad things and become very wealthy.  At its core, The Rum Diary has less to do with being drunk on rum (although that is a significant part) and more on a young writer trying to figure out what he wants to become.

Above: scene from an earlier, more depressing, version of Moulin Rouge

The acting in The Rum Diary is good.  If you have seen Johnny Depp in Fear and Loathing, there might not be a lot new to see here, but if you haven't, then Depp's immersion in his character is pretty impressive.  This isn't just a Hunter S. Thompson impression, mind you (check out this clip to see how good of an impression it is), it is a fairly complex performance that achieves its goals through monologue overdubs and quiet moments.  Depp is at his most entertaining here when he is being over the top, but his best work is when he is playing up the drama. 

Visual clues: frowny face vs. googly eyes and open mouth

Aaron Eckhart was a great choice to play a yuppie villain.  I thought he was very convincing as a smooth sonuvabitch who got ruthless as soon as his profit/loss balance became unfavorable in any situation.  Michael Rispoli was pretty good as Kemp's main drinking buddy, but he wasn't all that interesting as a character.  Giovanni Ribisi was far more entertaining as a unpredictable drunkard, but his weird voice was a little off-putting.

Unlike his habit of listening to Hitler's speeches on vinyl

Richard Jenkins did a respectable job with a pretty straightforward supporting role.  There were a few other recognizable faces in the cast, including Marshall Bell and Amaury Nolasco in small parts and Amber Heard as Kemp's love interest.  This is, far and away, the best work I have seen from Heard to date.  She was more than just a pretty face here, she was sympathetic and sexy.  Granted, that isn't asking a lot from a professional Hollywood actress, but it was light years beyond what I've seen her in prior to this.

"Hell, yeah, I earned a C+!"

The Rum Diary was written for the screen and directed by Bruce Robinson, and was his first film work in about a decade.  I thought he directed the film well enough.  It has a sleazy, grimy feel to it that was rather fitting.  He didn't coax out any great performances out of this cast, though, and that surprised me; with characters this eccentric, I would have thought someone would go balls-to-the-wall weird, but they never got much further than "peculiar." 

Ribisi earns a runner-up prize, though

That may have been affected by the overall story, though.  This film is missing a sense of purpose.  That, in and of itself, is not necessarily a bad thing.  Unfortunately, the characters are not charming enough to make you forget that the story doesn't seem to be going anywhere.  If you've read any Hunter S. Thompson, you might recognize that aimlessness as a common theme in his fiction; he eventually gets around to making a point, but the characters are so bizarre and goofy that they're fun to follow, regardless of intent.  Sadly, The Rum Diary is lacking in the fun department, which makes the meandering plot just frustrating.

"You mean...you don't want to see me stumble around drunk for two hours?"

The Rum Diary was written at least a decade before Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, so it's not surprising that the tone and the requisite Hunter S. Thompson-ish character are significantly different in each.  I wish I could stop comparing the two (I suppose I could bring up Where the Buffalo Roam instead), but the two are definitely connected.  As the film comes to a close, the audience starts to realize that this Puerto Rico vacation is what prompted Kemp Thompson to develop his aggressive style of journalism, so he could be a royal pain in the ass of all the bastards he loathed.  But then it ends.  The goal is Thompson finding his writing voice, and that's not a satisfying enough ending for a film that felt lost in its own winding plot.  What does he do with this new-found ability?  Does he dish out sweet justice?  Not really.  The means, in this case, wind up being the end...of the story. 

Getting back to my original worries regarding this film, I think it does suffer from too much nostalgia.  It's competently made, and there are some pretty entertaining bits here and there, but it lacks purpose and passion.  More importantly, it fails to pass on the righteous indignation of its main characters.  If the point of making this movie is to show Hunter S. Thompson's transformation from a fairly regular person to the oddball that he became famous for, then I suppose it is somewhat successful.  It's just not as entertaining to watch as it would be to try and reenact (the rum and women parts, anyway).

Dear John

Interesting fact: Dear John was the film that knocked Avatar out of the #1 box office spot and eventually grossed over $110 million.  Whoops...sometimes I get "interesting" and "depressing" mixed up.

Dear John is the film adaptation of tearjerker extraordinaire Nicholas Sparks' book of the same name.  A solider named John (Ooh!  Part of the title is explained!) meets a girl while on leave from the Army Special Forces in 2001.  John (Channing Tatum) and Savannah (Amanda Seyfried) fall in love within a matter of days, for reasons that are hard for viewers to explain.  Sure, they're attractive, but their relationship moves fast enough to make Fatal Attractions-era Glenn Close say "Maybe you two should think this through a little longer."  Still, John only has two weeks of leave, so they truck on like it's nobody's business.  John is soon introduced to Savannah's family and friends, including local rich jerk Randy (Scott Porter), her neighbor Tim (Henry Thomas), and his autistic son.  John reciprocates by introducing Savannah to his father (Richard Jenkins), a shut-in that isn't much of a father to John; instead, he is obsessed with his coin collection.  Savannah points out that John's dad might be autistic, since he seeks comfort in patterns, schedules, and predictability.  John apparently doesn't know the difference between autism and being retarded, and chooses to get really pissed off over Savannah's suggestion.  This leads to some other stuff, but in the end, John and Savannah part when he returns to the Special Forces with the promise to write each other bushels full of letters.  Oh, now I get it..."Dear John" refers to the beginning of her letters to him!  And here I thought it would refer to the infamous "Dear John" letter, where a woman tells her man that she's met someone new.  Silly me.  Well played, Mr. Sparks.  Well played, indeed.

John seems ready for this to be his last year in the military, but then the September 11 attacks happen.  John is briefly conflicted, but Savannah tells him to do what he thinks is right, so he re-enlists.  Over the next two years, Savannah's letters become rarer, until she finally sends him a final letter.  Sadly, she has become engaged to an unnamed man and won't be writing John any more.  Oh, snap!  Do you see what happened there?  The movie's title initially referred to the beginning of her letters to John, but then they turned it around and used that same title to refer to the brush-off letter!  I did not see that one coming!  On behalf of all movie watchers, I now crown thee Lord Nicholas Sparks the Unpredictable.  You may rise.

John handles this the most rational way he can and re-enlists for another four years.  Eventually, John is forced to take some leave to attend to his dying father, who dies after John reads a heartfelt letter to him.  It has been six years since he last saw Savannah, but they meet again and John learns that she has married Tim, who is dying of cancer.  John goes to visit Tim in the hospital, where Tim explains that Savannah still loves John more than she ever loved him, and that he is happy he married Savannah because now his son will not be orphaned.  Savannah tells John that there is little hope for Tim, because the insurance companies won't pay for experimental treatments and they only live on a ranch with several horses --- they can't possibly pay for his treatment!  John then cashes in his father's coin collection and anonymously pays for Tim's experimental treatment.  How you do that for treatment that hasn't been administered yet, I'm not entirely sure.  This is where John says goodbye to Savannah, and she gets the feeling that he really means it.  The treatment gives Tim enough time to get well and then die at home.  Savannah writes to John to tell him Tim's fate, which motivates John enough to leave the Army after his tour of duty is over and return home.  The last scene shows John and Savannah catching each others glance in public and then they hug.  The end, thank God.

If nothing else positive can be said for this movie, I will say that it is brave.  I can't think of any other film that tries to handle autism, cancer, and post-9/11 military stresses at the same time.  You can call that ballsy, stupid, or just plain insensitive, but it takes no shortage of confidence to attempt.

I am a little surprised by the way autism is treated in the movie.  Rain Man was made 22 years ago.  Everybody, even Channing Tatum, is at least aware of the movie, even if they haven't seen it.  I realize that I am moderately educated, but equating autism and mental retardation is fairly ignorant.  I will even acknowledge that my understanding of autism isn't terribly deep, but Dear John just comes across as stupid because it doesn't delve much deeper than "uh...I thought you meant my Dad was a 'tard, but I guess you're right, maybe.  Let's bang before I have to shoot things."

Another peculiar thing about this film is the treatment of Tim's character.  He might seem like a pretty nice guy, but he enters a loveless marriage, and only after Savannah realizes that "he needs" her; I'm not sure if that is a reference to his son's autism, or his cancer.  It doesn't matter, though.  I guess there's nothing as romantic as feeling like a weight chained around your loved one's neck.  My understanding for Tim's motivation here is that he just wanted to give his son some security after his death.  Maybe I misread that, but I think it's kind of douchey thing to do, especially when you're friendly with your wife's true love.  I don't know if the filmmakers were just hoping that his cancer would generate enough sympathy to negate this or what, but it didn't quite work.

Speaking of not quite working, Amanda Seyfried contributes to the soundtrack.  It's a song that is played during a montage and then cuts to her playing it for Channing Tatum.  It's not a bad song, but it doesn't really come off as very natural, especially since it's the only time she sings or plays guitar in the entire movie.  It could have been worse, though...imagine Channing Tatum's singing voice.

There are things that don't quite work in this film, and things that are outright stupid, though.  One of these is the numbering of Savannah and John's letters.  The movie takes the time to have the couple figure out that, with John moving from location to location in the Army, their letters might arrive out of chronological order.  Okay, that makes sense, right?  Their solution is to number their letters.  So, that would end up with the letters being numbers as "Dear John 1, 2, 3, etc." and "Dear Savannah 1, 2, 3, etc."  Otherwise, if they were numbering the letters as "John luvs Savannah 1, 2, 3," they would both have to wait to write their next letter until the next sequential letter arrived in the mail, which could take weeks with John's Army stuff.  That might sound fair initially, but do you remember what the number was to the last check you wrote, off the top of your head?  Neither do I.  This is a plan doomed for failure.  You know what would have worked better?  Writing the date on the letter.  Just an idea.

About those letters...they're awful.  Never mind that this is yet another Nicholas Sparks story where the couple manages to avoid telephone calls, text messages, and email, using only handwritten letters to communicate.  The big pledge after John and Savannah's two-week romance was to "tell [each other] everything."  Okay, that would make for a lot of letter writing.  It's good to give the troops something to read, so that's cool by me.  The only problem is that they don't tell each other everything.  Their letters are all sappy stuff and lame dreams.  Nothing about their friends or everyday lives.  Gee, I wonder how John got blindsided by her marrying someone else, if they only wrote about things like "wherever you go, the moon is smaller than your thumb."  No, it's not.  It's a moon.  It controls the tides.  Read a book.  Not a Nicholas Sparks one, though.

That reminds me...John and Savannah meet when her purse is knocked into the ocean from a dock.  She says something about her "whole life" being in that purse, so John makes a twenty-odd foot dive into shallow water to save it.  If only it had been shallow enough, the rest of the movie could have just been Amanda Seyfried sitting in a hospital room while Channing Tatum napped in a coma.  Strangely enough, we never find out what made that purse so important.  If she was upset because her purse fell in the water, that's one thing, but to claim that your whole life was in the purse...?  That's a touch melodramatic, unless you explain it away with a "I keep my arterial hypertension medication in that purse," or "I'm literally addicted to cherry Tic Tacs."

Is it just me, or does this movie try to feel like other successful projects?  I can't have been the only one to equate Savannah's desire to marry a dying man with Jennifer Morrison's character on House.  The opening voice over from Channing Tatum was definitely reminiscent of American Beauty's beginning, too.  Of course, Kevin Spacey's voice over was not a strained metaphor about being a "coin" that was "minted" by the Army, only to become "tarnished" by...something.  Who cares?  It's dreadful.  It only gets worse when the entire voice over is performed on screen by John, while his father is dying.

Enough about the stupidity of this film.  Not every movie is brilliant, but sometimes movies can overcome poor scripts and plots with virtuoso performances or on-screen chemistry.  Sometimes, but not always.  I have no major problem with Amanda Seyfried in general, but she really doesn't bring much to this movie aside from her body.  Channing Tatum can only offer his body to any role he plays because he can't wake up convincingly, much less act.  He has a terrible speaking voice, too.  When he was giving his "I am a coin" speech, he sounded kind of like Patrick from Spongebob.  I will admit that Seyfried and Tatum are an attractive couple, but their chemistry is lacking here.  That's not a huge surprise, given their grasp of science and the size of the moon.  As far as the supporting actors went, Henry Thomas came across as a limp wuss, which was better than Scott Porter's one-dimensional jerk performance.  The saving grace to this movie's acting was Richard Jenkins.  He played John's autistic father convincingly and sympathetically.  He's only on the screen for fifteen or twenty minutes, but he is definitely the highlight.  Had the plot been about him, this movie might have worked, even if you kept the rest of the cast.  As it stands, though, Jenkins' performance just highlights how low the acting quality was for the rest of the film.

These awful performances are especially shocking, considering that Lasse Hallstrom was the director.  This is the guy that did What's Eating Gilbert Grape, The Cider House Rules, and Chocolat.  The fact that he did such a good job with those films and ended up with this tripe makes me hope that the man is getting a divorce and needed some quick cash.  I could have gotten better performances out of the cast by whipping them and screaming "Emote, damn you!"

I could go on and on, fueled by hatred and spite, but I'll leave that to the experts.  It may seem superfluous to spell this out, but this was an awful, awful movie.  Don't watch it.  The only thing keeping this from zero stars is Richard Jenkins.