Editorials
On the Road to ‘Hell’: Looking Back on ‘House of 1000 Corpses’ and ‘The Devil’s Rejects’
I owe a lot of my love for the horror genre to Rob Zombie. In particular, while I had grown up with the Universal Monster movies, it was both House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects that introduced me to more extreme horror. Funny enough, I saw The Devil’s Rejects first in theatres and rented House of 1000 Corpses afterwards. Since then, though, I’ve been hooked on the films of Rob Zombie.
So of course I’ve been head over heels excited for the release of 3 From Hell! In preparation for the film’s upcoming release, I want to look back at both House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects and detail what makes them such memorable works.
Released back in 2003, House of 1000 Corpses follows two couples traveling together who stumble upon Captain Spaulding’s “Murder Ride.” For many Zombie fans, Spaulding (played by Sid Haig), is the director’s first iconic character; wearing clown makeup, Spaulding is an uncomfortable mix of hilarious and violent. The film opens on Spaulding in an altercation with a robber, the former letting off vulgar “your momma” jokes. When the robber becomes distracted, Spaulding unloads a revolver several times into his face. For the brief time that Spaulding has in the film, he maintains a balance of goofy and chilling.
The couples leave Spaulding’s and head towards a tourist attraction involving the infamous “Dr. Satan” (who is said to have performed disturbing experiments on people). Along the way they notice and pick up a hitchhiker who goes by the name of Baby (played by Zombie’s wife, Sheri Moon-Zombie).
From the moment she enters the car, Baby acts in obnoxious ways. Whether she is leaning over abruptly to blast the radio or making crude remarks, she exudes an unnervingly friendly attitude. This friendliness of course is a trap, as one thing leads to another and she guides the couples to her family home. It is there that the four travelers come in contact with the Firefly family. Among the household, besides Baby, there’s Mother Firefly, Grandpa, and Baby’s brothers Tiny, Rufus, and Otis. It is Otis, portrayed by Bill Moseley, who makes for the film’s third iconic character. Unlike Baby’s buoyant personality or Spaulding’s goofy humor, Otis is much more sinister; his humor leans towards savage, with his actions coming off more vulgar.
Eventually the travelers know they need to leave, and just as soon as they do, the family traps them. From there the film explores the torture and suffering the friends endure at the hands of the Firefly family.
All the film’s violence is graphic and disturbing, Otis and Baby never hiding the pleasure they take in torturing. The film embraces a “torture porn” approach, using each chance it can to be exploitative. House of 1000 Corpses’ exploitative elements come through in the harassment and violence that the antagonists present upon their victims, as well as how the antagonists themselves are meant to be spectacles. The film takes numerous moments to highlight Otis’ batshit crazy nature and that of Baby’s sexuality; interlude moments throughout the film will display Otis rambling at the viewer or Baby dancing in heavily sexual ways.
The exploitative nature of the characters is theatrical to the point of being uncanny and unnerving; it is through this exploitative manner that Zombie pulls off something intriguing. While there’s a great deal of cheese throughout the film, it’s so on the nose that it ends up adding to the film’s sadistic tone. It’s odd to look at a scene with such intense violence and not notice how over-the-top the characters are; there’s this sensation that, as much as your stomach is turning with all the gore, you kind of want to chuckle at the scene.
Take the scene where Baby enters a room with one of the captive friends tied up. Baby sits on the man’s lap, cutting his hair with a blade. During this time she remains her upbeat self, only getting tense when he displays panic; she expresses to him that she doesn’t want to slip with the blade. She then tells him that if he can guess her favorite movie star correctly she will let him go; if he gets it wrong, however, he’s in trouble. In a situation with astronomical odds against him, he makes his guess. Baby ponders the answer for a moment, only to reveal that he was almost close, but not close enough (then proceeds to slice the blade into his skull).
In such a situation that screams tragedy for our victim, Baby’s dialogue and actions make it a grim amusement for the viewer. She and us are aware that not only does this guy have a slim chance of guessing the correct answer, but that she would more than likely not let him go anyway if he was right. The viewer acknowledges the ridiculousness of the situation, yet, still has to sit with how uncomfortable the actions are.
We see more elements like this later on when another victim is asking Otis where her boyfriend is. We then get a flashback of Otis and Baby laughing at the boyfriend’s expense as he is being cut up. Otis then pulls back a nearby curtain to show that not only is the boyfriend dead, but his body waist down has been replaced with a fish tail. Nicknaming him “Fishboy”, he laughs hysterically as the girlfriend screams and cries. We recognize that this violence is horrific, but the way the scene plays out is quite goofy. This humor encourages you to chuckle at the moment, but then you also feel gross for doing so.
The duality found in Zombie’s grim humor is easily one of House of 1000 Corpses stand out components, and pushes the material’s jarring aggression.
The aesthetics of the film also play into this bizarre blend of violence and humor. Taking place in a setting similar to that of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre or The Hills Have Eyes, Zombie provides us a plethora of characters that give off wacky and twisted vibes. The film also presents a grainy texture to its visuals, adding an element of grit to the picture. In general, the atmosphere of House of 1000 Corpses exudes this carnivalesque madness.
While House of 1000 Corpses saw negative reviews upon release, the film would gain a large cult following later on. Two years later, Zombie would release a sequel entitled The Devil’s Rejects, which saw stronger critical praise.
If Zombie’s debut was a more cartoony torture porn whirlwind, The Devil’s Rejects is the director elevating his violence to more dramatic levels (while containing plenty of grim humor). Narratively the film flows to a more traditional structure; however, while the film lacks a surreal tone like House of 1000 Corpses, the cast as a whole still deliver upon eccentric dialogue and personalities. From the overly aggressive sheriff, to that of the loveable pimp, The Devil’s Rejects carries over Zombie’s use of wacky characterization.
The film opens with a police raid on the Firefly home. After Mother Firefly is taken into custody and Rufus is killed, with Tiny away from the house, Baby and Otis are able to escape. With a massive chase on the loose for the two of them and Spaulding, the story focuses on their run from the cops (while they torture people along the way).
Along with its own brand of violence, what stands out a lot from The Devil’s Rejects is the narrative’s strong focus on these three characters. Not only are they the protagonists, but as repulsive as they are, we end up becoming closer to them over the course of the film.
We come to see a genuine care that the three have for one another, especially in the film’s bizarre touching moments; I only call them bizarre because, for a film that’s so violent, these scenes are somewhat heartwarming. Even Otis, easily the most deranged of the three, can be eerily likeable at times. There’s one particular moment where the three of them are driving to a hideout and Baby is asking for ice cream. Otis argues how they don’t have the time, with Spaulding pushing him to get Baby some ice cream and lighten up. After some back and forth banter, we cut to Baby and Spaulding having ice cream in the car. As the two playfully tease Otis, we see a small smile come across his face as he embraces the lightheartedness of the moment. Just before this scene, we saw Otis carve off some dude’s face and make it into a mask, only to force the guy’s girlfriend to wear it.
The Devil’s Rejects is certainly not without its moments of cheese, but Zombie elevates the duality of his work to involve a more emotional component this time around. It is that of Spaulding, Baby, and Otis that draw the viewer to the film. With our protagonists, we are given brief moments that remind us that these monsters are still human. Besides the ice cream scene, towards the end of the film we see the trio relaxing in a brothel. Watching them chill and laugh with friends is fun and reveals more of themselves outside of their violent tendencies. But if feeling “heartfelt” for such villainous characters still sounds odd, the film presents a unique situation towards its end that adds more to the mix.
At one point the trio is captured by mercenaries hired by the sheriff. The sheriff brings them to their house and ties them up. He then proceeds to torture each of them, saying how they should feel ashamed of themselves for all their evil. As the viewer, we find ourselves in a unique place; by all means of logic, we know that these three individuals deserve what is coming to them. But as characters we’ve been following and investing ourselves in, as well as having the chance to see how they care for one another, we also feel a little reserved about the moment. In a bizarre way, we don’t want to see them suffer, but to escape.
Upon their escape, the film enters its conclusion. The three of them are driving down a road, coming upon a police barricade. In a last stand, they drive towards the barricade, shooting away; bullets from the opposite end tear into the trio, the film ending on blaring sounds of gunshots with still images of blood spraying from Baby, Otis, and Spaulding.
In 2019 we are used to films with graphic levels of violence; nowadays, it takes even more drastic levels to truly shock or gross someone out in a film. But House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects came out at a time where we weren’t as desensitized to on-screen violence. In that sense, both films provide a nostalgic air in the world of horror. But it’s also Rob Zombie’s fun approach to horror that allows both films to live on in the hearts of fans. Among contemporary filmmakers, Zombie has an intriguing voice that allows his films to embrace and exude their own bizarre identity. His vision and direction, from 2003 to now, has brought films into the world that continue to explore an outrageous duality of humor and violence.
While the conclusion of The Devil’s Rejects is satisfying on its own, 15 years later, Zombie would decide to create a sequel entitled 3 From Hell. I cannot wait to see what Rob Zombie has planned for the film. Will it include the wackiness of House of 1000 Corpses? Or will it be more serious and with interesting character dynamics like The Devil’s Rejects? With such little information shared in regards to the narrative of 3 From Hell, along with Rob Zombie’s flair for violence, we’re all in for a surprise come this fall.
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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