Editorials
[Editorial] Netflix’s “The Hollow” Will Fill the Void Left By “Gravity Falls”
There’s a lot to be said for Netflix’s algorithm and its many, many faults – especially when it comes to advertising their own shows. While the streaming giant’s original movie offerings have left something to be desired, their TV shows often provide pleasant surprises. This is to say that I was a bit wary when a new animated series that got no publicity whatsoever popped at the top of my recommendations queue. What I found was The Hollow, one of the most easily bingeable shows in a while that helped fill the void left by Gravity Falls.
The Hollow can best be described as The Maze Runner meets a Telltale game meets an action-packed Gravity Falls. Three teenagers wake up trapped in a windowless cell with no past memories, not how they got here. As they start learning about the gravity of their situation, they also learn their names from written notes they find in their pockets – oh, and the show’s other hook is that each of the teens has special abilities. Adam is the natural born leader that is the first to discover he has extraordinary strength and reflexes; Kai is the shy and underconfident kid who doubts every single decision; and Mira is really good at puzzles and coming up with solutions to every new problem.
From the very start, you feel that The Hollow is on the right hands. Created by the trio of animation veteran responsible for Nerds vs Monsters, writer Vito Viscomi and directors Josh Mepham and Greg Sullivan (Kid vs Cat) waste no time with explanations or exposition. We know as much as the teens know and discover things at the same time as they do. The story moves at a quick enough pace that by the time the characters start figuring out how to work together to escape their prison, you’ll likely already become attached to them – and from there on it’s an action-packed series of puzzles and battles with all sorts of weird creatures.
The issue with series or movies that centre on a big mystery is how it can distract from an actual story. While J.J. Abrams helped create Lost and breathe new life to the Star Wars saga, arguably his greatest contributions to pop culture is the concept of the “mystery box”, a metaphor for his approach to storytelling where mystery drives the story, instead of anything else.
This style of storytelling dominated the TV landscape after Lost came out in 2004 – shows that placed a mystery at the centre of their story with no plans for an answer. Think of how many TV shows came out after flight Oceanic 815 crashed on the island where the plot was “This group of people go about their day unaware that a mysterious event is about to change their lives”. The main problem with this type of show is that 9 out of 10 times they have no plan of solving the central mystery in the first season, and they get canceled with no satisfying conclusion. Flash Forward, Alcatraz, The Event, Revolution all had catastrophic events and mysteries at the core of the story and only the latter got more than 1 season.
This is not the case with The Hollow, as it actually provides a satisfying answer to each of its central questions that in no way cheapens the journey there – and the questions raised in the first episode don’t distract from character development. Why are the teens there, why don’t they remember anything, why are there minotaurs, why is Adam super strong? All of those get answered. Yet the journey is what matters, as they say, and this journey is a hell of a good time. Taking a page out of Gravity Falls book, the show introduces genre mashup and a big mythology from the get-go, with creatures that are there to misdirect the audience from the true secrets of its universe, while keeping it kid-friendly. There is a creature that might as well be named xenomorph, hellhounds, witches and even the Grim Reaper, but there is still time for fart jokes and a sense of childish wonder and adventure that the Disney XD show did so well.
Just like the best animated series of recent years, like Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Legend of Korra, Over the Garden Wall and Gravity Falls, so too does The Hollow introduce a world that could easily be part of an R-rated film franchise, but we see it through the eyes of young kids who don’t know the extend of the danger they are in. While the stakes can be Earth-shattering, the creators of the show employ a generally light tone that deflates the situation with jokes or childish wonder – not like we don’t see this in big blockbusters like every other Marvel movie – while slowly increasing the stakes and introducing weirder characters and darker plotlines (Gravity Falls ended with a literal apocalypse of weirdness). Even the art style feels simplified, sort of like a point and click game. Most of the problems our trio of heroes encounter could be solved by an imaginary mouse pointing at an item or way out, which makes the show vivid and the experience immersive.
While the tone is a bit childish, the characters are far from it. It is especially exciting to see that Mira, who is drawn to be Asian-American, seems to be the smarter of the group and doesn’t need or want help from either of the boys. Between this Trollhunters (also a Netflix show, with a final season released recently) it seems that the strong female characters audiences are demanding are not in the big screen blockbusters, but in our television and tablet screens. That the show skips an episodic format in favour or a serialized structure also helps in deepening the characters and making us get to know them better, as well as making the show a better binge-watching experience. Each episode devotes its last few minutes to set up the next episode, so you will be really hard pressed to keep going until you reach the final episode.
The use of pop-culture references also helps attract older viewers through the never-ending power of nostalgia. As Adam, Mira and Kai run into more and more monsters and dangerous situations, we see familiar tropes and genres. Once they go up to a marooned spaceship with no crewmember to be found, it is easy to draw parallels to Alien, and that’s even before a tall creature with a large tube-like head shows up. Since each episode deals with a different area of the world of The Hollow, they all are part of different genres. One episode is pure space horror, the next is an apocalyptic wasteland, before we go to a fantasy land with castles or even a Night of the Living Dead inspired zombie invasion. Just like Guillermo del Toro’s Trollhunters, the use of familiar genre tropes is used as nostalgia to lure viewers with something familiar, before placing new characters and storylines within those known frames.
Going back to the number of Lost-wannabes that came out after 2010, The Hollow’s greatest achievement is setting up a mystery that actually pays off without any cliffhangers. Every hint dropped along the way that may lead to many figuring things out way in advance, but it is still a highly satisfying ending that makes sense without the need of more seasons. That and the promise of teenagers with cool powers facing off an unknown world full of weird creatures with a great sense of humour should fill the adventure void left by Gravity Falls.
Rafael Motamayor (@GeekWithAnAfro) is a recovering-cinephile and freelance writer from Venezuela currently based in Norway. He has written for Flickering Myth, Birth.Movies.Death, and SYFY.
Editorials
‘Leprechaun Returns’ – The Charm of the Franchise’s Legacy Sequel
The erratic Leprechaun franchise is not known for sticking with a single concept for too long. The namesake (originally played by Warwick Davis) has gone to L.A., Las Vegas, space, and the ‘hood (not once but twice). And after an eleven-year holiday since the Davis era ended, the character received a drastic makeover in a now-unmentionable reboot. The critical failure of said film would have implied it was time to pack away the green top hat and shillelagh, and say goodbye to the nefarious imp. Instead, the Leprechaun series tried its luck again.
The general consensus for the Leprechaun films was never positive, and the darker yet blander Leprechaun: Origins certainly did not sway opinions. Just because the 2014 installment took itself seriously did not mean viewers would. After all, creator Mark Jones conceived a gruesome horror-comedy back in the early nineties, and that format is what was expected of any future ventures. So as horror legacy sequels (“legacyquels”) became more common in the 2010s, Leprechaun Returns followed suit while also going back to what made the ‘93 film work. This eighth entry echoed Halloween (2018) by ignoring all the previous sequels as well as being a direct continuation of the original. Even ardent fans can surely understand the decision to wipe the slate clean, so to speak.
Leprechaun Returns “continued the [franchise’s] trend of not being consistent by deciding to be consistent.” The retconning of Steven Kostanski and Suzanne Keilly’s film was met with little to no pushback from the fandom, who had already become accustomed to seeing something new and different with every chapter. Only now the “new and different” was familiar. With the severe route of Origins a mere speck in the rearview mirror, director Kotanski implemented a “back to basics” approach that garnered better reception than Zach Lipovsky’s own undertaking. The one-two punch of preposterous humor and grisly horror was in full force again.
With Warwick Davis sitting this film out — his own choice — there was the foremost challenge of finding his replacement. Returns found Davis’ successor in Linden Porco, who admirably filled those blood-stained, buckled shoes. And what would a legacy sequel be without a returning character? Jennifer Aniston obviously did not reprise her final girl role of Tory Redding. So, the film did the next best thing and fetched another of Lubdan’s past victims: Ozzie, the likable oaf played by Mark Holton. Returns also created an extension of Tory’s character by giving her a teenage daughter, Lila (Taylor Spreitler).
It has been twenty-five years since the events of the ‘93 film. The incident is unknown to all but its survivors. Interested in her late mother’s history there in Devil’s Lake, North Dakota, Lila transferred to the local university and pledged a sorority — really the only one on campus — whose few members now reside in Tory Redding’s old home. The farmhouse-turned-sorority-house is still a work in progress; Lila’s fellow Alpha Epsilon sisters were in the midst of renovating the place when a ghost of the past found its way into the present.
The Psycho Goreman and The Void director’s penchant for visceral special effects is noted early on as the Leprechaun tears not only into the modern age, but also through poor Ozzie’s abdomen. The portal from 1993 to 2018 is soaked with blood and guts as the Leprechaun forces his way into the story. Davis’ iconic depiction of the wee antagonist is missed, however, Linden Porco is not simply keeping the seat warm in case his predecessor ever resumes the part. His enthusiastic performance is accentuated by a rotten-looking mug that adds to his innate menace.
The obligatory fodder is mostly young this time around. Apart from one luckless postman and Ozzie — the premature passing of the latter character removed the chance of caring about anyone in the film — the Leprechaun’s potential prey are all college aged. Lila is this story’s token trauma kid with caregiver baggage; her mother thought “monsters were always trying to get her.” Lila’s habit of mentioning Tory’s mental health problem does not make a good first impression with the resident mean girl and apparent alcoholic of the sorority, Meredith (Emily Reid). Then there are the nicer but no less cursorily written of the Alpha Epsilon gals: eco-conscious and ex-obsessive Katie (Pepi Sonuga), and uptight overachiever Rose (Sai Bennett). Rounding out the main cast are a pair of destined-to-die bros (Oliver Llewellyn Jenkins, Ben McGregor). Lila and her peers range from disposable to plain irritating, so rooting for any one of them is next to impossible. Even so, their overstated personalities make their inevitable fates more satisfying.
Where Returns excels is its death sequences. Unlike Jones’ film, this one is not afraid of killing off members of the main cast. Lila, admittedly, wears too much plot armor, yet with her mother’s spirit looming over her and the whole story — comedian Heather McDonald put her bang-on Aniston impersonation to good use as well as provided a surprisingly emotional moment in the film — her immunity can be overlooked. Still, the other characters’ brutal demises make up for Lila’s imperviousness. The Leprechaun’s killer set-pieces also happen to demonstrate the time period, seeing as he uses solar panels and a drone in several supporting characters’ executions. A premortem selfie and the antagonist’s snarky mention of global warming additionally add to this film’s particular timestamp.
Critics were quick to say Leprechaun Returns did not break new ground. Sure, there is no one jetting off to space, or the wacky notion of Lubdan becoming a record producer. This reset, however, is still quite charming and entertaining despite its lack of risk-taking. And with yet another reboot in the works, who knows where the most wicked Leprechaun ever to exist will end up next.
Horror contemplates in great detail how young people handle inordinate situations and all of life’s unexpected challenges. While the genre forces characters of every age to face their fears, it is especially interested in how youths might fare in life-or-death scenarios.
The column Young Blood is dedicated to horror stories for and about teenagers, as well as other young folks on the brink of terror.
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