A Rundown of the 13 Best, Most Recent Horror Movies I’ve Seen
[12 of 13]
THE STRANGERS (May 2008)


… Bryan Bertino’s debut feature is one taut, nasty little motherfrakker. Once the thrills kick off, they don’t really let up.

Read the entire review here.

(The Strangers OS courtesy of impawards.com [design by Ignition Print].)

THE STRANGERS
(Review)

What you are about to see is inspired by true events.
According to the FBI, there are an estimated 1.4 million violent crimes in America each year.
On the night of February 11, 2005, Kristen McKay and James Hoyt left a friend’s wedding reception and returned to the Hoyt family summer home.
The brutal events that took place there are still not entirely known.

So The Strangers tells us right off the bat, before effectively setting the stage with a 911 call, then winding the clock back to the night in question, and the “brutal events” that led up to that call.


Now, for the record, Bryan Bertino’s debut feature is one taut, nasty little motherfrakker. Once the thrills kick off, they don’t really let up.
We’re thrown right into the middle of Kristen (Liv Tyler) and James (Scott Speedman) on the night in question, and clearly, there’s been some incident, an argument, perhaps, or something more; we find ourselves in the middle of a strained, awkward moment in their relationship.
It’s this initial section of The Strangers, where we spend time with the couple on a particularly troubled night, that involves us in their lives, and their emotional dilemma, Tyler and Speedman delivering performances engaging enough to keep our attention.
It’s also this initial dramatic section that serves as an excellent counterpoint to the intensity and suspense that take hold, once things take a turn for the worse.


The thing is though, I’m not a huge fan of these kinds of movies, the ones that purport to be “inspired by true events,” where we see people suffer and, more often than not, die, while the film itself doesn’t really illuminate anything beyond the adage “sh!t happens.”
When this sort of movie is done right—as Bertino’s The Strangers is—it’s thrilling and keeps the audience at the edge of their seats, their collective breath held, their eyes riveted to the screen.
But it really isn’t “entertainment,” not in the sense of an experience I’d look forward to repeating by watching the film over and over again.
Regardless of how close or distant the film is from the reality it’s purportedly based on (on many occasions, the “inspired by true events” tag is more marketing ploy than a genuine indication of the film’s narrative being based on any specific murder case), there’s no denying that this is still the kind of situation that can actually happen. There are no cannibalistic mutants in this, no zombies or vampires or parasitic aliens. Just psychos with really sharp implements.
Bottom line, I always feel ill at ease watching this sort of movie. (Of course, that could be Bertino’s entire point.)


Taking all of that into consideration though, this one’s definitely a gut punch, and Bertino structures the narrative well, while handling both the drama and the thrills with a deft hand.
I’m certainly looking forward to the director’s next effort. (He’s reportedly got three lined up, including Green Eyes, with producer Scott Rudin.)

“I think what scary movies allow you to do is you can take any character that has a background and cut them to the core. Like, at the end of the day, no matter whether they're a good person or bad, we're all going to react instinctively and I love the concept of being able to do that.
“What I love about horror films is if you go to see a great drama, you're going to leave emotionally exhausted. You go to a great horror film and you're going to leave emotionally exhausted, so when I decided to make something like this, I said, ‘What if I took both and put them together?’ Could that reach people even more? Because I don't think people do it enough.
-- Bryan Bertino

Parting shot: Reviews of David Moreau and Xavier Palud’s Ils (which presents a similar scenario) and Michael Haneke’s Funny Games U.S. (which is a statement on these kinds of movies) can be found in the Archive.

Parting shot 2: After seeing The Strangers, I came upon a Bertino interview where he basically says that the depicted events in the film aren’t actually based on one particular real life crime, so the “inspired by real events,” at least in this case, indeed looks to be more marketing tool than anything else.

(The Strangers OS courtesy of impawards.com [design by Ignition Print]; images courtesy of bloody-disgusting.com and shocktillyoudrop.com.)

FUNNY GAMES U.S.
(Review)

"I've been accused of 'raping' the audience in my films, and I admit to that freely—all movies assault the viewer in one way or another. What's different about my films is this: I'm trying to rape the viewer into independence."
-- Michael Haneke

Well, consider me frakked.

In Michael Haneke’s shot-for-shot English-language remake of his 1997 Funny Games, George and Ann Farber (Tim Roth and Naomi Watts) are a couple of rich, white folk vacationing at their lakeside home for a couple of weeks. They’ve brought their son, Georgie (Devon Gearhart), and their dog, Lucky.
Naturally, in a film like this, when there’s a dog named “Lucky,” you can bet your bottom dollar that the mutt will be anything but.
You see, a pair of insanely courteous young lunatics (Michael Pitt and Brady Corbet) clad in immaculate white, are about to make a house call, all set to torture, not just the unlucky family, but the film’s audience as well.

With the cold, clinical precision that is his cinematic stock-in-trade, Haneke basically hijacks his audience and unleashes a confrontational and provocative indictment of what passes off as “entertainment” in today’s culture.
Funny Games U.S. (and its original Austrian progenitor) challenges its audience: so you like movies where people get tortured and terrorized? Well, see if you enjoy this.
With its largely static camerawork, its lack of a traditional musical score, and painfully frank performances, Funny Games U.S. presents the horrible scenario in a seemingly very real manner, while simultaneously tearing down the fourth wall on a number of occasions, reminding us that, A) this is a fiction, and B) we, the audience, are complicit in what we are witnessing.
Because this is, after all, unfolding for our entertainment.
Given that this is a decidedly non-Hollywood approach to the idea, and given that this is clearly Heneke’s agenda, it becomes obvious that Funny Games U.S. isn’t meant to be “entertainment.”
From all of what I’ve said above, it’s plainly evident that Funny Games U.S. is meant to be “art.”
And that’s I believe the sticking point of this entire quandary.

Let me use Gaspar Noe’s Irreversible as an example.
Irreversible is the sort of grueling cinematic experience that I really wouldn’t want to repeat. Viewing it wasn’t a pleasant experience.
But I do appreciate what Noe seems to be saying in it, the manner in which the narrative unfolds (begin at the end of the story in a very chaotic, nauseating manner, and work our way towards the beginning, with the camerawork gradually becoming calm and steady), part and parcel of his message.
Clearly, Irreversible is not entertainment. But I do believe that it is art.
So what’s to stop someone who makes a film that’s non-stop degradation and torture without any apparent message from claiming that there is, after all, a message (those who don’t “get it” merely ill-equipped to understand), and that his film is “art”?
And aren’t the lines that separate art and entertainment ultimately subjective?
Let’s face it: I may think Irreversible is art, but someone else will probably denounce it as filth and look at me like some sort of unhinged deviant for even considering Irreversible as a piece of art.
By the same token, I’m sure there are films out there others consider “art” that I, personally, just don’t get. (Apparently, I too, can be ill-equipped.)
Then there are those films that are ostensibly entertainment, and yet manage to say something substantial and potent about the human condition, that manage to bridge the gap and present some sort of hybrid.
Are they entertainment? Art? Or both?

Now, any Iguana regulars reading this will know that horror with significant subtext is pretty much my speed. As such, Haneke’s preaching to the choir here. (See, Herr Haneke, “No” really does mean “No.”)
But the reality is, I also happen to love films like the first Saw and Eli Roth’s Hostel films (particularly the second), because in them, I feel there is subtext, there are messages amidst the gore and the grue.
Now, whether or not Haneke will agree with me, I’ll never know. And for that matter, where is Haneke’s line, his personal demarcation between “acceptable” and “unacceptable” violence?
Shouldn’t all violence be unacceptable? But in a frank discussion of violence (the kind art can engage in), isn’t the depiction of it a necessity?
And with any depiction of violence, don’t we return to the question of acceptability? How much can we show so as to make our point?
So many questions…

In asking what Herr Haneke’s personal demarcation is though, I believe I’m missing the real point, which is, What is my personal demarcation? Where do I draw the line?
And where do you?

Parting shot: Reviews of Saw and Hostel II can be found in the Archive.

Parting shot 2: Incidentally, both Haneke and Noe were included by avclub.com in a list of 17 “Notorious Living, Working Cinematic Provocateurs,” which uses Haneke’s New York Times quote in its title.
Others on the list include Park Chan-Wook, Takashi Miike, Oliver Stone, Lars von Trier, and Michael Moore.

(Funny Games U.S. OS [design by Crew Creative Advertising] and UK quad courtesy of impawards.com; Funny Games DVD cover art courtesy of amazon.com; Funny Games U.S. images courtesy of ign.com.)