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Best & Worst of ’10: DAVID HARLEY’S TOP 10 OF 2010

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Out of all the lists I’ve done for the site, this year’s best-of compilation was easily the most difficult to write. When I first starting thinking about this way back in August, I was hard pressed to come up with five films that I liked, let alone ones that were strictly horror. But by the time we crossed over into December and all was said and done, my tally sheet was much harder to sort through but for a different reason: I had to narrow a list of twenty-two films down to ten, with an extra three as honorable mentions. Even after I had run them through my normal list of criteria of what I think makes a film great, my count-down order changed numerous times, and only one question helped me determine the iteration you’re looking at now: if I had the option to march right back into the theatre after watching any of these to see it again, which ones would I watch first? Immediately, the fight between a killer tire and ballerina had a winner, and my decision as to whether or not a powerful film was worth including if it made me depressed for days afterwards became clear.

There’s one omission on my list that will give half of you a heart attack, so I’ll just go head and explain myself upfront. The film in question is Let Me In, and my answer for leaving it off is simple: not only will I never watch it again, but it is, in fact, a cliff notes version of a much better film. I’m all for remakes, and I actually think Matt Reeves’ version has good performances, and is competently made for the most part. But, is it memorable? Is it haunting? Is something that’s almost entirely a shot-for-shot remake (there are some cool differences, though) something I will care about in five years? No, not really. I was going to say something like “it’s not really that hard to make a carbon copy of a movie with the same dialogue and visual presentation”, but then I remembered I saw Gus Van Sant’s Psycho.

Mr. Disgusting (Best/Worst) | Ryan Daley (Best/Worst) | David Harley (Best/Worst)
BC (Best/Worst) | Micah (Best/Worst) | Keenan (Best/Worst) | Theo (Best/Worst)
Best One Sheets | Worst One Sheets
Most Memorable Moments | Top Trailers | Memorable Quotes

DAVID HARLEY’S TOP 10 OF 2010

10. The Last Exorcism (August 27; Lionsgate)


The Last Exorcism‘s writers Huck Botko and Andrew Gurland struck a really good balance between the horrific, comedic, and dramatic elements that make up their gothic yarn. Cotton is a smarmy, though endearing, swindler, dishing out puns and dry humor left and right. And in Louis and Nell (and even her brother, Caleb, to some extent), they’ve created a sympathetic family who lead very tortured lives. And even though the story flip-flops through many different developments and theories, causing character arcs to drastically shift, you have that initial investment through the setup that makes you cling to these characters through their troubles. The atmosphere created by director Daniel Stamm and cinematographer Zoltan Honti is a breath of fresh air, creating tension and several chilling scenes by just walking through a dark room. With a minimal amount of jump scares, and virtually no blood and special effects in the entire film, The Last Exorcism manages to make you uncomfortable for most of its running time ala the horror classics of yesteryear. As for the ending, which divided audiences, I love it and think it was the most appropriate pay-off they could’ve had for the characters.

9. Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (December 3; Oscilloscope Laboratories)


Like Joe Dante’s The Hole, Rare Exports is pretty much the best Goosebumps book never written. A kid-ish (emphasis on the -ish) horror tale, this retelling of the Santa Claus mythos is a return to fantastical frights (think Lady In White or Lemora), with an opening scene that is more Raiders Of The Lost Ark than anything found in Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull.

8. Burning Bright (August 17; Lionsgate)


It’s weird; sometimes the dumbest/simplest ideas make for the best films, leaving everyone scratching their heads as to why they didn’t come up with it themselves.Burning Bright‘s ridiculous plot (gorgeous girl and her autistic brother stuck in their house with an evil, ex-circus tiger during a hurricane) might be enough to turn people away, but man, is it fun. The story is pretty congested at times, but everything resolves itself, and it’s a tense ride getting there.

7. Shutter Island (February 19; DreamWorks)


Let’s be honest: this is not Scorsese’s best flick, nor is it unpredictable. What it is, however, is the most atmospheric film this year, and a fantastic homage to Val Lewton films. Performances are exceptional across the board, and the New England charms and culture in the film provide for not one haunted house (Ashecliffe), but two (Teddy Daniels’ mind), the latter of which is bolstered by the great director/actor relationship of Scorsese and DiCaprio.

6. Birdemic: Shock And Terror (February 27; Severin)


James Nguyen, the self-proclaimed master of the “romantic thriller”, is my new hero. Like Troll 2‘s director Claudio Fragasso, Nguyen has no idea that Birdemic: Shock And Terror is an amazing riff on The Birds, failing on almost every level except the entertainment factor, of which it’s off the scale. It’s kind of hard to narrow down ONE thing that I love the most about Birdemic; the MS Paint birds, hanger fighting, having automatic rifles handy in the back of your vintage 1990 minivan, the overly long master shot inside of a Chinese restaurant (obviously put there to show the audience the entire wall mural)… there’s just so much to choose from. It’s not as close to (im)perfection as a trip to Nilbog, but it’s the most awfully fun movie anyone has made in the last decade.

5. REC 2 (July 9; Magnet Releasing)


REC 2 is one of those rare sequels that doesn’t necessarily improve upon the formula as much as it successfully changes it up without making it feel like it doesn’t fit into the same universe as its predecessor – think the Alien franchise. Respectably referencing classics like The Thing and The Exorcist, Jaume Balaguero and Paco Plaza’s follow-up builds upon the premise of the original, while adding a new explanation for the outbreak, which I never saw coming and, I think, is more clever than what was “discovered” in the first film.

4. The Loved Ones (None; Madman Films)


The Loved Ones, in many ways, is as much of a love letter to Texas Chainsaw Massacre as Wolf Creek is. Sure, they’re both Australian productions, so it’s easy to compare them in that respect, but Sean Byrne’s film succeeds where Greg McLean’s failed: it has more than an interesting villain going for it. Byrne spends time with each of his characters, both primary and secondary, giving insight into their world and what was going on with them previous and during Brent’s imprisonment – there’s a brilliant bit of contrast between the film’s protagonist and his friend Jamie, showcased through well-placed intercutting. The violence is brutal and uncompromising, though it never overshadows the story and characters, both of which are greatly fleshed out. If more gore-centric films could strike a great balance like The Loved Ones does, our genre would be in a better place.

3. Buried (September 24; Lionsgate)


Back in 2009, I managed to see Stuart Gordon’s Nevermore, a one-man stage show featuring Jeffrey Combs as the legendary poet and drunkard. I had never actually seen a play in-person before, and while it was memorable in that aspect, I was totally floored by Combs’ performance, and the character immersion I saw before me – as the play goes on, he gets drunker, and it’s completely believable. Much of the same can be said about Buried, which stars Ryan Reynolds as Paul, a government contractor who finds himself buried alive in a coffin with nothing but a cell phone, a few glow sticks, and a canteen filled with water. Not only does the film prove that Reynolds has what it takes to carry a non-comedic film on his shoulders, but it’s a showcase for up-and-coming director Rodrigo Cortes’ talent.

2. Rubber (None; Magnet Releasing)


Imagine if David Lynch had directed Jaws with a tire instead of a shark as his villain, and you’d have a pretty good idea of what Rubber is like. But that’s just half of what Quentin Dupieux’s post-modern smorgasbord of Rod Serling inspired bizarreness has to offer. Instead of just stopping at the absurd notion of having a tire blowing people’s heads up, the film throws its audience for a loop, introducing it as a film with a film that ends up crossing over and disrupting reality, resulting in one of the most unique cinematic experiences in quite some time.

1. Black Swan (December 3; Fox Searchlight)


Black Swan is, in a lot of ways, a companion piece to The Wrestler; they both feature characters pushing themselves to be their best, and how the journey to get there affects them mentally, physically, and spiritually. Aronofsky’s latest just happens to be more Polanski than inspirational, fitting in with the Apartment Trilogy more than it does any inspirational, feel-good sports flick.

Honorable Mentions
A Serbian Film (None; Invincible)


For the record, I didn’t enjoy A Serbian Film, nor would I watch it again or recommend anyone watch it a first time. In fact, I fell into a deep state of depression for days after seeing it at SXSW this past March. I don’t think any of us can properly identify with the trials and tribulations Serbians have been through, but if the way this film made me feel even comes close to their collective state of mind over the past few years, I don’t envy them that much more. I honestly think this is the sort of outrage, confusion, and repulsion people felt when they saw Cannibal Holocaust back in the 80s, and if all horror flicks made me feel this way, I wouldn’t watch them anymore. In other words, this is one of the most powerful and affecting films I have seen, and while I do not relish the thought of sitting through it a second time, it has put images and ideas into my head that I simply cannot erase from my memory, no matter how hard I try.


Because any documentary that puts me on a quest to find a new – to me, anyway – Peter Jackson script (Freddy is a washed-up hobo in dreamland, and gets beat up by kids who intentionally make themselves fall asleep so they can pick on him) is worth a mention.

The Killer Inside Me (June 18; IFC)


Everyone from Quentin Tarantino to Tom Cruise was involved at different points in The Killer Inside Me‘s long road to the big screen. Based on a novel by Jim Thompson, the film was left to rot in development hell for years after Andrew Dominick left, leaving him to adapt The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford. While the story is gripping and many of the scenes left me mouth agape, Casey Affleck’s Lou Ford steals the show and is probably one of the most disturbing characters I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. He’s similar to Henry (Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer) and Harry Powell (Night Of The Hunter), in the sense that he plays the good-old boy and buffoon quite convincingly, and seamlessly shifts to psychopath at the drop of a dime. All of the aforementioned characters are morally reprehensible, but the small shreds of humanity that exist (or are convincingly faked) in them is what makes them so extraordinary and endlessly watchable.

Editorials

What’s Wrong with My Baby!? Larry Cohen’s ‘It’s Alive’ at 50

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Netflix It's Alive

Soon after the New Hollywood generation took over the entertainment industry, they started having children. And more than any filmmakers that came before—they were terrified. Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), Eraserhead (1977), The Brood (1979), The Shining (1980), Possession (1981), and many others all deal, at least in part, with the fears of becoming or being a parent. What if my child turns out to be a monster? is corrupted by some evil force? or turns out to be the fucking Antichrist? What if I screw them up somehow, or can’t help them, or even go insane and try to kill them? Horror has always been at its best when exploring relatable fears through extreme circumstances. A prime example of this is Larry Cohen’s 1974 monster-baby movie It’s Alive, which explores the not only the rollercoaster of emotions that any parent experiences when confronted with the difficulties of raising a child, but long-standing questions of who or what is at fault when something goes horribly wrong.

Cohen begins making his underlying points early in the film as Frank Davis (John P. Ryan) discusses the state of the world with a group of expectant fathers in a hospital waiting room. They discuss the “overabundance of lead” in foods and the environment, smog, and pesticides that only serve to produce roaches that are “bigger, stronger, and harder to kill.” Frank comments that this is “quite a world to bring a kid into.” This has long been a discussion point among people when trying to decide whether to have kids or not. I’ve had many conversations with friends who have said they feel it’s irresponsible to bring children into such a violent, broken, and dangerous world, and I certainly don’t begrudge them this. My wife and I did decide to have children but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy.

Immediately following this scene comes It’s Alive’s most famous sequence in which Frank’s wife Lenore (Sharon Farrell) is the only person left alive in her delivery room, the doctors clawed and bitten to death by her mutant baby, which has escaped. “What does my baby look like!? What’s wrong with my baby!?” she screams as nurses wheel her frantically into a recovery room. The evening that had begun with such joy and excitement at the birth of their second child turned into a nightmare. This is tough for me to write, but on some level, I can relate to this whiplash of emotion. When my second child was born, they came about five weeks early. I’ll use the pronouns “they/them” for privacy reasons when referring to my kids. Our oldest was still very young and went to stay with my parents and we sped off to the hospital where my wife was taken into an operating room for an emergency c-section. I was able to carry our newborn into the NICU (natal intensive care unit) where I was assured that this was routine for all premature births. The nurses assured me there was nothing to worry about and the baby looked big and healthy. I headed to where my wife was taken to recover to grab a few winks assuming that everything was fine. Well, when I awoke, I headed back over to the NICU to find that my child was not where I left them. The nurse found me and told me that the baby’s lungs were underdeveloped, and they had to put them in a special room connected to oxygen tubes and wires to monitor their vitals.

It’s difficult to express the fear that overwhelmed me in those moments. Everything turned out okay, but it took a while and I’m convinced to this day that their anxiety struggles spring from these first weeks of life. As our children grew, we learned that two of the three were on the spectrum and that anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD were also playing a part in their lives. Parents, at least speaking for myself, can’t help but blame themselves for the struggles their children face. The “if only” questions creep in and easily overcome the voices that assure us that it really has nothing to do with us. In the film, Lenore says, “maybe it’s all the pills I’ve been taking that brought this on.” Frank muses aloud about how he used to think that Frankenstein was the monster, but when he got older realized he was the one that made the monster. The aptly named Frank is wondering if his baby’s mutation is his fault, if he created the monster that is terrorizing Los Angeles. I have made plenty of “if only” statements about myself over the years. “If only I hadn’t had to work so much, if only I had been around more when they were little.” Mothers may ask themselves, “did I have a drink, too much coffee, or a cigarette before I knew I was pregnant? Was I too stressed out during the pregnancy?” In other words, most parents can’t help but wonder if it’s all their fault.

At one point in the film, Frank goes to the elementary school where his baby has been sighted and is escorted through the halls by police. He overhears someone comment about “screwed up genes,” which brings about age-old questions of nature vs. nurture. Despite the voices around him from doctors and detectives that say, “we know this isn’t your fault,” Frank can’t help but think it is, and that the people who try to tell him it isn’t really think it’s his fault too. There is no doubt that there is a hereditary element to the kinds of mental illness struggles that my children and I deal with. But, and it’s a bit but, good parenting goes a long way in helping children deal with these struggles. Kids need to know they’re not alone, a good parent can provide that, perhaps especially parents that can relate to the same kinds of struggles. The question of nature vs. nurture will likely never be entirely answered but I think there’s more than a good chance that “both/and” is the case. Around the midpoint of the film, Frank agrees to disown the child and sign it over for medical experimentation if caught or killed. Lenore and the older son Chris (Daniel Holzman) seek to nurture and teach the baby, feeling that it is not a monster, but a member of the family.

It’s Alive takes these ideas to an even greater degree in the fact that the Davis Baby really is a monster, a mutant with claws and fangs that murders and eats people. The late ’60s and early ’70s also saw the rise in mass murderers and serial killers which heightened the nature vs. nurture debate. Obviously, these people were not literal monsters but human beings that came from human parents, but something had gone horribly wrong. Often the upbringing of these killers clearly led in part to their antisocial behavior, but this isn’t always the case. It’s Alive asks “what if a ‘monster’ comes from a good home?” In this case is it society, environmental factors, or is it the lead, smog, and pesticides? It is almost impossible to know, but the ending of the film underscores an uncomfortable truth—even monsters have parents.

As the film enters its third act, Frank joins the hunt for his child through the Los Angeles sewers and into the L.A. River. He is armed with a rifle and ready to kill on sight, having divorced himself from any relationship to the child. Then Frank finds his baby crying in the sewers and his fatherly instincts take over. With tears in his eyes, he speaks words of comfort and wraps his son in his coat. He holds him close, pats and rocks him, and whispers that everything is going to be okay. People often wonder how the parents of those who perform heinous acts can sit in court, shed tears, and defend them. I think it’s a complex issue. I’m sure that these parents know that their child has done something evil, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are still their baby. Your child is a piece of yourself formed into a whole new human being. Disowning them would be like cutting off a limb, no matter what they may have done. It doesn’t erase an evil act, far from it, but I can understand the pain of a parent in that situation. I think It’s Alive does an exceptional job placing its audience in that situation.

Despite the serious issues and ideas being examined in the film, It’s Alive is far from a dour affair. At heart, it is still a monster movie and filled with a sense of fun and a great deal of pitch-black humor. In one of its more memorable moments, a milkman is sucked into the rear compartment of his truck as red blood mingles with the white milk from smashed bottles leaking out the back of the truck and streaming down the street. Just after Frank agrees to join the hunt for his baby, the film cuts to the back of an ice cream truck with the words “STOP CHILDREN” emblazoned on it. It’s a movie filled with great kills, a mutant baby—created by make-up effects master Rick Baker early in his career, and plenty of action—and all in a PG rated movie! I’m telling you, the ’70s were wild. It just also happens to have some thoughtful ideas behind it as well.

Which was Larry Cohen’s specialty. Cohen made all kinds of movies, but his most enduring have been his horror films and all of them tackle the social issues and fears of the time they were made. God Told Me To (1976), Q: The Winged Serpent (1982), and The Stuff (1985) are all great examples of his socially aware, low-budget, exploitation filmmaking with a brain and It’s Alive certainly fits right in with that group. Cohen would go on to write and direct two sequels, It Lives Again (aka It’s Alive 2) in 1978 and It’s Alive III: Island of the Alive in 1987 and is credited as a co-writer on the 2008 remake. All these films explore the ideas of parental responsibility in light of the various concerns of the times they were made including abortion rights and AIDS.

Fifty years after It’s Alive was initially released, it has only become more relevant in the ensuing years. Fears surrounding parenthood have been with us since the beginning of time but as the years pass the reasons for these fears only seem to become more and more profound. In today’s world the conversation of the fathers in the waiting room could be expanded to hormones and genetic modifications in food, terrorism, climate change, school and other mass shootings, and other threats that were unknown or at least less of a concern fifty years ago. Perhaps the fearmongering conspiracy theories about chemtrails and vaccines would be mentioned as well, though in a more satirical fashion, as fears some expectant parents encounter while endlessly doomscrolling Facebook or Twitter. Speaking for myself, despite the struggles, the fears, and the sadness that sometimes comes with having children, it’s been worth it. The joys ultimately outweigh all of that, but I understand the terror too. Becoming a parent is no easy choice, nor should it be. But as I look back, I can say that I’m glad we made the choice we did.

I wonder if Frank and Lenore can say the same thing.

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