Editorials
‘Fright Night’ – ‘Supergirl’ Director’s Remake Is So Good It May Outshine the Original Classic
Tom Holland‘s Fright Night has cemented itself as a crucial pillar in ’80s vampire canon. There’s an embrace of bloodsucker mythologies in addition to cheeky commentaries about how vamps are perceived in the media (using the character of Peter Vincent). It’s a tale as old as Dracula between eternal lust and pointed fangs that sometimes gets lost in its ’80s haze of synthwave needle drops and “cheesier” dramatics that define an era of horror cinema. A period I vocally endorse, no question — but if it sounds like I’m prepping what could be a controversial opinion, your radar’s adequately calibrated.
Supergirl director Craig Gillespie‘s 2011 Fright Night remake utilizes the darker, more “serious” tones favored by 2000s horror to embrace all the gothic ferociousness of vampiric lore. It’s never unnecessarily gritty without purpose on the backs of the “torture porn” craze, where horror culture began rounding the corner away from immeasurable grotesqueries for the sake of sensationalism. Gillespie’s film is magnificently cast, moodily entrancing, and sharpened like a sushi chef’s knife before another dinner rush. Both Holland and Gillespie helped define vampire cinema in their respective genre movements. Still, I’ll forever honor Gillespie’s on the list of remakes that outshine their masters even by a whisker.
The Approach
Vampires, right? They’re sexy, they’re sucky, and they hate the sunlight. The Fright Night movies honor cornerstones of vampire cinema but differ in their executions. I’ll forever cherish titles that dare choose practical artistry regarding sharky grins, bleeding wounds, and creature transformations. That’s where 1985’s original trumps the 2000s revamp that fell victim to popularized 3D methods now bygone. Why depend on motherboards when countless horror creations pre-2011 exemplify why special effects should at least have a first layer of practicality under computer graphics?
In 2011’s Las Vegas real estate thriller, Charley Brewster (Anton Yelchin) quickly clues into Jerry’s (Colin Farrell) vampirism. Charley’s mother, Jane (Toni Collette), is trying to fill another deserted suburban housing development when Charley starts accusing their neighbor of being a horror movie villain. Charley’s girlfriend Amy (Imogen Poots) finds herself a bloodsucker’s muse way quicker, along with a more belittled and empowered Evil Ed (Christopher Mintz-Plasse). Gillespie and screenwriter Marti Noxon speed into their vampire horrors without any gaudily veiled vampire lectures — even considering a drunk-on-Midori Vegas iteration of Peter Vincent (David Tennant).
Where 1985’s Fright Night exhibits playfulness, 2011’s Fright Night remake goes for the jugular. There’s so much of the usual as Holland torments his Charley with obvious narrative roadblocks (and chili burgers) that yield expected reveals — 2011’s Fright Night wastes no questions. It treats Jerry like a shark who immediately sniffs the scent of blood and enjoys property damage. Jerry never hesitates to obliterate Charley’s family in the remake, where 1985’s plays nicer because vampires didn’t want to upset the status quo back then. Fright Night (2011) is meaner, fiercer, and worth more impact when Jerry’s cabal crawls out of subterranean honeycomb barracks.
Does It Work?
Horror in the ’80s — like Fright Night — relies less on bulletproof narratives, whereas 2011’s Fright Night depends more on evolutions in storytelling like Jerry’s veer into predator territory. I prefer Noxon’s reinterpretation of Holland’s original script because it skips past overlong sequences of Charley being considered insane for exposing Jerry’s habits. Holland finds humor in Charley’s slower investigation of Jerry’s meal selections, where Noxon thrusts Charley, Jane, and Amy into immediate danger because Jerry is always an absurdly malicious threat. No time wasted on carpenters who turn out to be unearthly demons beyond familiar capabilities (Jonathan Stark as Billy Cole).
To specifically hone on Charley’s arc in 1985’s horror comedy, he’s more of a distractible twit. Come 2011’s Fright Night remake, Charley’s conflicted and growing apart from Evil Ed, but also more relatable as a torn-at-the-seams teenager. Evil Ed himself undergoes a drastic change given how Charley becomes the early skeptic, which flips vampire speculations where they belong onto the genre-appreciating loner. That’s not to say horror fans deserve what’s coming should they encounter monsters, but more how Gillespie doesn’t string-along audiences who already understand vampires are the criminals of Fright Night — no sympathetic speculations between innocence and guilt means more time for menacing vampire attacks overnight.
The location switch to Las Vegas answers how Jerry could prey upon community members in some off-strip housing development cluster. Night owls are commonplace in the City of Sin, easing Jerry’s hardships when luring dealers or sex workers to his feasting quarters. Stretches of desert highway are where dreams typically go to die, and Gillespie smartly accentuates the isolation of Charley’s surroundings. It’s an innocuous detail that some might presume was used to turn Peter Vincent into a Criss Angel wannabe, but there’s cleverness behind intentions. Jerry no longer needs an aid; he’s an apex hunter in his habitat.
The Result
What the Fright Night remake leaves behind makes for a more intensely primal bat-and-mouse game that unleashes Colin Farrell’s inner beast (perhaps with Twilight influences minus glitter). Anton Yelchin is more capable, cautious, and skittish in his performance as a superior Charley Brewster, marking such a tragic lost talent far too young. Imogen Poots is given more substance as a girlfriend who fights alongside and then against Charley once she’s canonically turned by Jerry. Toni Collette isn’t working the night shift at opportune times. I’ll admit the 80s original benefits from its campiness in terms of queer readings and sultry romance between Amanda Bearse‘s Amy and Chris Sarandon‘s Jerry, but 2011’s shows more cohesion as a vicious vampire tale with a craving for blood (and Budweiser).
There’s no doubt that Roddy McDowall‘s late-night television host Peter Vincent is a genre staple. Still, I’d argue David Tennant’s traumatized casino magician with gnarly stage tricks is equally compelling (plus Tennant in leather). The difference in approaches highlights mentor characters with very different issues to overcome and drives home a quote pondered by the little girl in the Old El Paso taco shell commercial: “Why not both?” McDowall and Tennant aren’t trading blows for dominance as warring Peter Vincents, much like how Farrell and Sarandon aren’t mimicking each other’s mannerisms despite their fondness for ripe fruits. Gillespie and Noxon’s strive to embrace contemporary horror methods ensures a completely different Fright Night with more battered bullies, harsher realities, and far better pacing that launches into Jerry’s clutches.
Although, no argument rationalizes 2011’s usage of digital effects that erase all the schlocky goodness from 1985’s Fright Night. Werewolf transformations, batty puppets, and humanoids turning to green goop like in Troll 2 are a victory that Gillespie’s Fright Night cannot boast. It’s disappointing that even Jerry’s jagged toothy grin when his vampiric smile beams is an animated render, given how none of the other practical models Holland uses are replicated. Fright Night (1985) embarrasses Fright Night (2011) in special effects comparisons like Evander Holyfield might demolish your 10-year-old niece in the boxing ring. I won’t try to spin any slander or lies otherwise. Performances, structure, and just about everywhere else, Fright Night (2011) surpasses Fright Night (1985) — but no shot regarding the monsters, injuries, and juices that Holland’s effects designers create.
The Lesson
Never for a nanosecond is Craig Gillespie trying to replace Tom Holland’s Fright Night. A harmonious coexistence between horror tales encapsulates their places in horror history. Fright Night (1985) takes more significant swings with kitchen-sink weirdness and romantic deviations, whereas Fright Night (2011) chums the waters to surface something that’s dying to feed without respite. Holland’s embracing ’80s horror comedy attitudes where Gillespie flips some character tropes and aims his crossbow to kill. One does not negate the other nor erase legacies chiseled in nostalgia.
So what did we learn?
- The vampire evolution throughout cinema sure has altered how we see bloodsuckers from the ’80s to ’00s.
- Let’s hear it again: remakes are best when they represent the periods of horror culture in which they’re made.
- Peter Vincent has been an everlasting caricature throughout the decades.
- You can tell when a remake has good enough intentions to treat its original with respect versus the futile experience of replication.
Perhaps I’m more taken by the Fright Night remake because it was the first Fright Night I watched? The late 2000s saw my upbringing as a baby blogger honing his voice, and Fright Night was one of the earlier releases in my horror journalist journey. Maybe that’s my nostalgia kicking in and taking the wheel? I’m a fan of ’80s campiness, but equal is my defense of ’00s horror remakes that’ve been lumped into “torture porn” and post-9/11 stretches when mainstream critics hated horror. Although depending on the day and the mood, there’s a Fright Night for everyone.
Like a wise oracle once said, “Why not both?”
Editor’s Note: A version of this article was originally published on July 4, 2022.
Editorials
Before ‘The Blair Witch Project’, ‘Alien Autopsy’ Showed How Real Found Footage Could Feel
The line separating artist from con man is a lot thinner than you might initially believe. While I think we can all agree that lying for the sake of profit is actively malicious behavior, isn’t it also true that the faux documentary aspect of The Blair Witch Project is half the reason why that film became such a cultural phenomenon? After all, if there’s one thing filmmakers have in common with stage magicians, it’s that misleading and misdirecting audiences is simply part of the job.
That’s why I’ve developed a habit of mostly ignoring the moral quandaries behind many of film and television’s biggest “hoaxes” in favor of appreciating the narrative elements that drive productions like Mermaids: The Body Found and even Animal Planet’s highly underrated The Cannibal in the Jungle. However, if there’s a definitive case of a highly publicized broadcast fooling the world into taking it seriously, it has to be Fox’s infamous 1995 TV special Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction.
It’s been over three decades since that eerie footage first haunted television screens right at the peak of the ’90s ufology craze, and in that time, the video has taken on a life of its own. From countless parodies and references in everything from The X-Files to Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater (as well as John Dower’s recently released tell-all documentary The Alien Autopsy Scandal, which I’d highly recommend to genre fans everywhere), there’s no denying the legacy of the Alien Autopsy video. However, I rarely see the tape discussed as what it truly is: a highly convincing found footage film directed by a passionate stage magician and brought to life by masterful practical effects work.
That’s why I’d like to invite readers to join me on a deep dive into one of the most infamous broadcasts of all time in an attempt to reevaluate the footage as a fascinating narrative experience rather than a complete hoax.
The TV Special That Convinced Millions It Was Real
Ray Santilli next to Extraterrestrial replica in ‘The Alien Autopsy Scandal’
For starters, regardless of whether or not you believe that there was in fact an extraterrestrial crash in Roswell during the summer of 1947 and that some form of autopsy was performed on the victims, the producers behind the black & white recordings, Ray Santilli and Gary Shoefield, insist that their video was a “restoration.” Though I’d argue that the proper word is “remake”of genuine footage that was too damaged to air on television. That’s why the duo went on to recruit filmmaker and eccentric magician Spyros Melaris and sculptor/monster designer John Humphreys to bring their version of the autopsy to life and sell it to the highest bidder.
This is where the story of the Alien Autopsy as a narrative experience really begins. Melaris claims that his approach to the faux recording consisted of striving for extreme period accuracy in both shooting equipment and setting while also planting subtle details that would initially seem like mistakes but could later be revealed to actually fit the time period. That being said, the filmmaker was under the impression that the short would be released for free as a PR stunt, with the team later producing and selling an informative documentary chronicling exactly how the footage was faked and commenting on how easy it is to manipulate public perception with a good old-fashioned magic trick.
This obviously isn’t how things went down, and that’s likely the reason why Melaris has since distanced himself from everyone else involved with the project. Yet, no amount of behind-the-scenes drama can undermine the genuine effort that went into making the short as impressive as it is. From the sourcing of real animal organs from a local butcher to make the organic part of the creature more lifelike to the highly detailed sculpt that made use of a hollowed-out underlayer that could be filled with fake blood and assorted viscera, there’s a reason why so many Hollywood specialists are still impressed with the artistry on display here.
Of course, the believability is only half the story, as I think that the best part of the autopsy is how Melaris builds on the existing tension by obscuring certain details and often embracing the chaos of what a real examination of extraterrestrial life could feel like. The camera often goes out of focus at just the right time to make certain effects hit even harder, and we can only speculate as to what the hazmat-suited doctors are gesticulating about during the operation. There’s a real air of mystery to the whole thing that almost makes it feel like a cosmically terrifying, cursed film containing forbidden knowledge that civilians were never meant to see.
So when Fox’s Fact or Fiction brings in the specialists to comment on the film and its otherworldly subject, it’s no surprise that we end up with one of the most memorable mockumentaries of all time – albeit one where the participants are unaware that the footage they’re commenting on is basically a large-scale practical joke. A joke that the network was obviously in on, as many participants claim that the TV special cut out significant portions where guests point out that they believe the footage to be an elaborate hoax.
The Lasting Impact of the Hoax Turned Cultural Event
Regardless, I remember going to bed terrified after watching reruns of the special and thinking about the respected pathologist who claimed that the body was almost certainly inhuman, with even effects maestro Stan Winston commenting on how difficult it would be to recreate some of these visuals through practical puppetry. That’s not even mentioning Jonathan Frakes’ dramatic hyping up of the disturbing imagery as if he was talking about the tape from The Ring, with his spooky demeanor here likely being responsible for his later role as the host of Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction a few years later.
Personally, I’d argue that the Alien Autopsy phenomenon had just as much of an impact on me as a horror fan as The Blair Witch Project, a film that was almost certainly influenced by the success of this immensely popular hoax (to the point where they even produced their own TV special commenting on Heather’s found footage). Even if Fox didn’t intend to produce a narrative feature about the aftermath of the Roswell crash, the end product still holds up remarkably well as a highly entertaining mockumentary exploring the idea that we may not be alone in the universe.
While neither Santilli nor the rest of the production team has ever commented on this, I also think it’s very likely that the idea of a faux Alien Autopsy could have been influenced by Dean Alioto’s The McPherson Tape/UFO Abduction. I’ve already written about how this granddaddy of found footage was co-opted by rogue ufologists who began selling bootlegs of the tape at conventions as if it were real evidence of a close encounter, so it’s not that much of a stretch to imagine that Santilli and company could have heard about this phenomenon and been inspired to come up with their own highly profitable hoax.
At the end of the day, it’s unlikely that the Alien Autopsy film is recreating any real footage from Roswell, but I can still appreciate the short and the accompanying television event as a standalone horror story that still influences the way we see found footage to this very day.
After all, the possibility that something could be real is often much scarier than finding out for sure – and that’s why I think Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction is still worth revisiting three decades down the line.
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