Editorials
[It Came From the ’80s] The Pint-Sized Terror of ‘Critters’
With horror industry heavy hitters already in place from the 1970s, the 1980s built upon that with the rise of brilliant minds in makeup and effects artists, as well as advances in technology. Artists like Rick Baker, Rob Bottin, Alec Gillis, Tom Woodruff Jr., Tom Savini, Stan Winston, and countless other artists that delivered groundbreaking, mind-blowing practical effects that ushered in the pre-CGI Golden Age of Cinema. Which meant a glorious glut of creatures in horror. More than just a technical marvel, the creatures on display in ‘80s horror meant tangible texture that still holds up decades later. Grotesque slimy skin to brutal transformation sequences, there wasn’t anything the artists couldn’t create. It Came From the ‘80s is a series that will pay homage to the monstrous, deadly, and often slimy creatures that made the ‘80s such a fantastic decade in horror.
With news of a new TV series in the works, and plot details emerging, there’s no better time than now to revisit the pint-sized Krites spun from the mind of screenwriter Dominic Muir, director Stephen Herek (who also re-wrote the script), and created by the sorely underrated special effects team the Chiodo Brothers. Though written before 1984, thanks to the success of Joe Dante’s Gremlins, the film was finally greenlit and promoted by New Line as their answer to Gremlins. The small fury Krites with their glowing red eyes and rows of pointy teeth hailed from the depths of space, with a penchant for mischief-making and an unparalleled appetite. Which was terrible news for the small farming town in which they crash landed, and only a spunky boy and extraterrestrial bounty hunters could stand in their way.
Despite a budget of around $2 million, a very small fraction of that went to developing special effects, and the production window was very limited. Considering how integral the little furry terrors were to the film’s success, this meant a high-pressure job for whoever was hired for the handle it. Luckily for production, and for viewers, Charlie, Steve, and Ed Chiodo, and their small crew of talented special effect artists were hired for the difficult task. Whether the titular critters were terrorizing the Brown family, forming giant toothy balls barreling through a Kansas town, terrorizing Leonardo DiCaprio in apartment buildings, or even making meals out of space crews, you could be sure that they’d look great thanks to the consistent work of the Chiodo Bros. Productions in every entry.
The first film, released in April 1986, featured around eight murderous little fur balls, and one lead 4’ tall Krite revealed during the climax. With adorably disproportionate mouths to their tiny bodies and miniature limbs, it wasn’t just their rows of sharp teeth that caused harm, but their venomous quills as well. If they weren’t feasting on flesh like piranhas, they were temporarily sedating their prey for snack time later. With the expressive animatronics behind the Krite puppets and the voice work of Corey Burton, it’s hard to tell whether you want to destroy the critters or keep one as a pet.
In Critters, the Chiodo brothers had to get creative with the limited budget. Which meant crafting a series of prosthetics and facial features to apply to the base critter mechanical puppet to differentiate between critter characters, when they didn’t have the budget or time to craft a separate puppet for each character called for in the script. Other puppets were built for less complicated or specific tasks, like one that could be thrown at actors like a ball, or one that would be able to emote swallowing. It was an intensive progress, and Critters was the first movie that the Chiodo Brothers production team played such a key role in designed, creating, and handling the creature special effects.
The modest success of the film meant an easy greenlight for a sequel, which came with double the budget of the first film. More Krites on screen as well as more puppets created behind the scenes, and an updated appearance meant Critters 2: The Main Course looked even cooler. Directed by Mick Garris, the sequel brings back protagonist Brad Brown (Scott Grimes), bounty hunter Ug (Terrence Mann), and town drunk turned bounty hunter Charlie (Don Keith Opper) to fight the return of the Krite invasion due to lingering eggs. Just in time for an Easter egg hunt, of course! The bigger budget also meant a higher body count with more gruesome effects, culminating in a finale so humorous and neat that it was featuring on the cover box; the Critball.
These little aliens might have a never-ending hunger for flesh and a potty mouth in their own native tongue, but they know when to band together against their foes. Just when the Grover Bend townsfolk thought they’d destroyed them, the Krites merge together to form one massive, steamrolling eating frenzy.
Critters 2: The Main Course was the last in the series to be released theatrically, in April 29, 1988. The subsequent two sequels were direct-to-video releases in the early ‘90s, and not nearly as fun. Even still, the fantastic design and animatronic work behind these fun ‘80s carnivorous creatures meant a memorable franchise every bit as deserving of a revival TV series in a modern setting.
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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