Editorials
8 Horror Remakes That Are Worth a Second Viewing
Remakes are still a hot button issue among horror fans. Even now that we’re seeing fewer of them, people are still angry. I get it, too. The amount of horror remakes released in the mid-2000s was staggering. It felt like nothing could be successful unless it was a reimagining of a pre-existing property. But the problem with remakes was oversaturation, not the films themselves.
When every weekend saw the release of a remake of at least one classic horror, fans obviously got annoyed and aggravated, because there was just so much. That doesn’t mean the movies couldn’t be good. They often weren’t, of course. With studios so eager to push out features based on recognizable titles, they weren’t too concerned with quality control.
It’s much easier to look back at these films now that their time has come and gone. During the height of the remake craze, it was so easy to just get mad at the fact that they even existed. Now most of them are over ten years old. All of these movies might have been made for the same reasons, but that didn’t stop filmmakers from coming up with unique and inventive takes on these beloved properties.
The entries on this list have mostly been met with mixed to negative reviews. Some of them were popular when they came out and quickly tapered off. They weren’t what the fans wanted them to be. In some cases, they just didn’t want them to happen at all and reacted passionately.
But now I think enough time has passed to really evaluate them on their own merits. With that in mind, here are a few remakes that don’t deserve the amount of hate that they get.
King Kong (1976)
Initially, I was going to include Peter Jackson’s King Kong on the list, but the general consensus seems to be that it’s pretty good but way too long. It’s hard to argue with that, even though I do like it. Instead, I’m going with the all-but-forgotten 1976 remake. It’s a fascinating combination of a big budget epic and a schlocky B-Movie. Its flaws are obvious, but it was a childhood favorite and it’s still a lot of entertaining, campy fun.
While Jessica Lange’s performance doesn’t begin to show the talent she’d demonstrate later in her career, Jeff Bridges is a surprisingly believable action lead. The socially conscious, environmental plot works as a modern update. It provides arguably the most believable reason for getting the crew to the island in the first place.
Yes, the movie does wind up tragically dating itself with the inclusion of the World Trade Towers. But that doesn’t negate the strong set pieces and pure, earnest entertainment value of the whole production.
Village of the Damned
John Carpenter’s Village of the Damned is far from the director’s best movie, but it’s definitely not his worst, either. At the end of the day, middle-of-the-road Carpenter is still Carpenter. There are some memorable sequences. Christopher Reeve actually does a really good job with his character.
There’s a solid sense of pacing to the whole first act and some of the children are genuinely creepy. Kirstie Alley’s death in particular is a memorably gruesome scene. It also boasts one of Carpenter’s most underrated scores. The main “March of the Children” theme is one of his best.
Piranha 3D
Alexandre Aja proved that he could make a great movie with High Tension. He even proved he could make a great remake with Hills Have Eyes. He had nothing to prove with Piranha, so that’s what he did. It’s pure exploitation schlock just for the hell of it. To see a filmmaker that good tackle something like this is endlessly entertaining to me. Especially because he completely went as extreme as he could with it.
It might not hold up as well in 2D at home as it did seeing it in the theater in 3D, but that doesn’t stop it from being undeniable, sleazy fun. The surprising cast including Elizabeth Shue, Jerry O’Connell, Richard Dreyfuss and Christopher Lloyd shouldn’t work at all. Everyone is better than this, even the director. That’s what makes it so great.
Body Snatchers (1993)
Abel Ferrera’s Body Snatchers is not nearly as well known or as celebrated as the 1978 remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. That doesn’t mean it’s not a great film on its own, though. With a script by Stuart Gordon and Dennis Paoli and a story by Larry Cohen, it would have been hard to screw this up.
The decision to confine the action to a military compound allows for a take on a familiar story that has a flavor and style all its own. This movie stands on its own, the characters feel original and it’s an approach to the situation that doesn’t retread what was already done in the first two. At the same time, it embraces its roots and features several callbacks to both of the previous features. Most remakes fail to achieve this balance. Body Snatchers definitely doesn’t get enough credit for how well it tows this line.
On top of that, Meg Tilly’s performance alone—her brutally unsettling monologue in particular—is reason enough to give this one a watch if you’ve still never seen it.
Let Me In
There’s no need to debate that this was not a remake that needed to happen. It was a popular foreign property that was remade for an American audience, part of a long and kind of infuriating tradition. Let the Right One In had barely even hit the States before the American version was announced. But there’s a lot going for this. It might not need to exist, but that doesn’t stop it from being really well executed.
Cloverfield was a successful production, but it didn’t showcase Matt Reeves’ talents as a director, at least not in an overt way. That changed here. He directed the hell out of this movie. It’s so subtle, so subdued, hinging entirely on the central performances. Yes, it leaves out key elements of the story that it should have included. But it’s still a very strong piece of filmmaking on its own.
Friday the 13th
The hatred thrown toward Friday the 13th is kind of odd. For the most part, its criticized for being exactly what fans wanted it to be, because it wasn’t made the way they wanted. It’s a back-to-basics slasher about a bunch of young people at Camp Crystal Lake getting picked off by Jason one-by-one. After detours in Manhattan, Hell, outer space and Elm Street, that was unbelievably refreshing.
But people who were young in the ‘80s don’t identify with modern teenagers. That seems obvious in retrospect, but it wasn’t when this was being made. That disconnect and lack of clarity to its target audience was a major reason for its huge drop in box office after its opening weekend. Admittedly, not all of the characters are likable and the pacing is a mess, but the intensity and energy of it are terrific.
It made Jason scary again, which was probably the most surprising thing it could have done after the direction the series had taken.
Fright Night
Tom Holland’s Fright Night is a masterpiece of the vampire genre. It’s impossible to adapt it directly. But Marti Noxon’s script smartly updated the story with enough new touches to allow it to stand on its own two feet. It’s a smart, funny script. Where it really succeeds, though, is in the casting.
Colin Farrell is probably the only person who could have believably stepped into the shoes of Jerry Dandridge. But it simply wouldn’t have worked without Anton Yelchin as Charley. He’s the anchor. Without him, the whole thing could easily have fallen apart.
It takes the original’s underlying subtext of teenage masculinity and identity and turns that into the overriding theme. The remake is inherently about an insecure kid coming into manhood, the idea of what it even means to be a man in the twenty-first century, as wisely written from a woman’s perspective. While it might still have its problems, it’s an exciting and witty remake that doesn’t get the credit it deserves.
Halloween
I cannot begin to express my reverence for John Carpenter’s Halloween. It is precisely because of that reverence that I am grateful for a remake like this one, even if I don’t always agree with the direction it takes. I’m not in love with a good chunk of the dialogue. Rob Zombie really struggles to write characters outside his wheelhouse and it’s never more apparent than in this film. But the cast? The idea behind it? The overall concept? All of those things are great.
A remake of Halloween should have a totally different approach while still being recognizable. For better or worse, that’s what Zombie did. The last thing a remake should do is copy the original, especially when said original is so innovative from a filmmaking perspective. It would have killed me if Halloween received the same remake treatment as Psycho.
It’s like a comic book. There are so many versions of the origins of popular characters in different contexts and environments. Zombie’s Halloween is no different. It’s completely its own thing, and that’s better than trying to redo—or especially outdo—Carpenter. Plus, the mask looks great and that’s the number one thing most Halloween movies screw up.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
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