Wes Craven

(On TV, October 2019) I have a feeling that I should be liking The People Under the Stairs a lot more than I do. After all, it does feature non-traditional protagonists, social issues such as accessible housing, and more unhinged antagonists than usual. The structure of the film is also a bit unusual, with the protagonists escaping the Bad Place on the third-act turn, only to return later. Seasoned writer-director Wes Craven blends the appearance of weird creatures with more prosaic concerns, such as a family in danger of being evicted, in order to skirt the edges of the horror genre. That’s all well and good, except that, well, I didn’t care much for it. The creatures feel needlessly grotesque, the protagonist a bit too young, the social commentary muted, the humour out-of-place. The Gulf War footage does bring some intriguing period atmosphere to the proceedings, but not enough to take the film out of the confines of its own set. In other words, I don’t quite get The People Under the Stairs and there are worthier movies to puzzle over.

(In French, On TV, March 2019) The 1970s were a turning point for low-budget gritty horror grindhouse movies, and it’s hard to get trashier than The Hills Have Eyes, which often feels shot by high school students on a summer break. As with other landmark horror movies of the era (I’m thinking Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but especially Last House on the Left, which was The Hills Have Eyes’s director Wes Craven’s first feature film), there’s no gloss, no spectacle, just matter-of-fact horror in the middle of nowhere featuring desert hellbillies. The topic matter is just as dead simple, with a suburban family being targeted by cannibal mutant psychos. It’s really not a likable film, but it’s somewhat effective … if you like that stuff. Unsurprisingly far less slick than its 2010 remake (although not quite as humourless), but somewhat dull once you get past the rawness of the production. Of course, films like The Hills Have Eyes are made for a specific kind of viewer—those who shy away from grotesque and decadent horror may choose not to apply.

(In French, On Cable TV, February 2019) There are two things that are guaranteed to drive me up the wall in terms of movies, and Wes Craven’s The Last House on the Left manages to hit both of them at once: Amateurish filmmaking and nihilistic horror. To be fair, this was an incredibly innovative film at the time of its release: by the early-1970s, horror films hadn’t yet gone to the extremes that we’ve somehow grown accustomed to, and there was an undeniable New Hollywood quality to the intention of turning out an exploitative gory cinema-vérité horror film in which a heroine is raped and killed, only for the parents to take merciless revenge. Public reaction at the time was aghast, and even today it’s easy to see why: the film is an extremely unpleasant combination of naturalistic filmmaking and merciless gore. Craven’s first film did not have the budget to be slick, and even the film’s biggest opponents (that would be me) will recognize that the overbearing musical cues, hair stuck in the film, muddy picture quality, choppy editing, neighbourhood sets and static cameras do create an eerie realism that would have been destroyed by higher production values. Even today, the very early-1970s fashion and music fix the film to a very specific time. Still, there’s no denying that the movie is excruciating to watch, especially when the filmmakers refuse any easy escape. The rape sequence drags on and on, and the film doesn’t spare anyone even when the parents of the murdered girl take their revenge. At some point, even jaded reviewer such as myself have to recognize that this is a specific kind of movie and that it appeals to a specific kind of audience. But certainly not everyone.