Editorials
‘Shredder’ – The Slopes are Killer in This Overlooked 2000s Teen Slasher
While it seems like slasher movies disappeared sometime in the early 2000s, approximately after the emergence of Scream and its flood of opportunistic imitators and cash-grabs, masked killers and their teenage fodder never truly went away. More accurately, major studios put a pause on big-budget slashers. In the meantime, indie filmmakers like Greg Huson kept the subgenre from disappearing altogether; his movie Shredder was one of several last dying breaths for old-fashioned, original slashers before splatter films and remakes began to flourish.
While the bigger and more notable slasher franchises haven’t exactly embraced ice-cold surroundings, movies like the Idaho-shot Shredder understand the potential fun and advantages of a wintry environment. It brings new meaning to the word “stranded.” The contrast between stark whites and deep reds is also a satisfying sight for horror fans, especially when a movie is as blanketed in white powder as this one. Right from the start, Shredder leaves a sizable bloodstain on the bare snow; the cold open sees the mysterious, all-in-black assailant behead a random snowboarder. This preview kill is so delightfully excessive and sanguinary that the 30-minute waiting period until the next death — an off-screen one at that — is forgivable.
What Shredder lacks in high production values it makes up for in sheer energy and cocky style. This is a spirited and sometimes spiffy-looking slasher with the verve of a music video. In addition to Alan Derian’s effectively sinister score are a number of pop-punk tracks that do little to stand out from one another, but they add to the movie’s overall zest. Strangely enough, though, there isn’t a lot of snowboarding seen on screen. At least not from the main cast, who apparently couldn’t ‘board to save their lives. So be prepared for noticeable stunt doubles in the shredding scenes. Nevertheless, both Huson and the cinematographer, Charles Schner, have an eye for climatic vistas and action on the slopes.
Another area where Shredder excels is the special effects. For the most part, this slasher prefers the hands-on approach, though there are a couple of digital effects (some more conspicuous than others). And while the degree of carnage here pales in comparison to what was to come in the genre only a couple of years later, the gorier sequences are improved by Jerry L. Buxbaum and Mark Villalobos’ tactile effects. The logistics of these bloodletting moments may not entirely add up, but they are enjoyable to watch.
Huson’s horror debut is more traditional than hyper self-aware. This movie doesn’t break new ground or boldly challenge the conventions of the genre it hails from, apart from the “final girl” role. Shredder may have indeed come out after Scream, but the movie’s not made in its image either. On the contrary, this unpretentious slasher is as simple and throwback as they come; young people find trouble rather than fun when they step foot in a place they’re not welcome. This kind of plot might be too unambiguous for the postmodern crowd. Even so, that doesn’t mean the movie isn’t willing to poke fun at itself.
When a genre is as oversaturated as horror, it’s bound to start studying itself, and commenting critically on the structures, symbolism and tropes. Meta-horror was the direct response, and some movies certainly did it better than others. Shredder doesn’t quite play things straight; the script has a delicate sense of humor. However, the movie isn’t all that self-reflexive. Huson instead creates comedy through sight gags and tongue-in-cheek writing. A chairlift fatality results in a dark running joke, and Lindsey McKeon delivers what might be the movie’s most hilarious line after she’s caught cheating on her boyfriend (Scott Weinger). Shredder doesn’t completely qualify as a horror-comedy, yet it’s proof that sometimes the best way to be funny is to not go about it so obviously.
Shredder goes against the very nature of winter horror; it defies the idea that a movie set in the cold and snow has to be slow, pale and sad. No, it’s just the opposite here — this slasher is dynamic, bright and upbeat. There is a definite sense of enthusiasm both behind and in front of the camera. That warmness and effervescence comes at the cost of suspense, but Huson and co-writer Craig Donald Carlson’s story concerns a killer who punishes those who defy rules of the slope. It’s abundantly clear that they weren’t going for legitimate scares here.
So while the editing is erratic, the antagonist is underused, and the dialogue is downright cringe-making, these and other shortcomings account for the movie’s enjoyability. Shredder looks more polished than other obscure, regional slashers like it, but the movie’s true charm comes from its unshakable sense of fun. Surely there’s nothing here that hasn’t been done before or better. However, this movie’s timeliness and immediacy have helped it grow into something more lasting.
Horror contemplates in great detail how young people handle inordinate situations and all of life’s unexpected challenges. While the genre forces characters of every age to face their fears, it is especially interested in how youths might fare in life-or-death scenarios.
The column Young Blood is dedicated to horror stories for and about teenagers, as well as other young folks on the brink of terror.
The penultimate season of Tales from the Crypt (1989–1996) aired its first three episodes on October 31, so it’s understandable that at least one of those three stories is set on Halloween.
Sandwiched between “Let the Punishment Fit the Crime” (Russell Mulcahy, Ron Finley) and “Whirlpool” (Mick Garris, A. L. Katz & Gilbert Adler) is the most severe episode of the bunch. Maybe the entire series? William Malone and Dick Beebe’s “Only Skin Deep” traded the show’s typical sense of fun for startling amounts of bleakness and kink.
“Only Skin Deep” is, apart from the Crypt Keeper’s intro and outro, noticeably unfunny. There are no considerable attempts at making the viewer laugh. Come to think of it, if those bookends had been replaced, and there was more of a sci-fi element in the story, HBO could have easily squeezed this tale into that successor anthology, Perversions of Science (1997). In Crypt, though, “Only Skin Deep” is much too grim for an audience that had become accustomed to campiness and levity.
What makes “Only Skin Deep” feel dark, among other things, is its protagonist. Showing up to a Halloween party where he’s not welcome, and where his former girlfriend (Diane DiLasco) is attending, Carl Schlag (Peter Onorati) first comes across as your standard bitter ex. You soon realize it’s much worse than that, once Carl threatens Linda (“You know, silly me, thinking I gave you what you deserved. If I’d have done that, I’d have killed you”). Now, I haven’t forgotten that Tales from the Crypt was teeming with vile men who did women harm. Yet Carl’s brand of misogynistic menace hits differently—it borders on being too realistic for this kind of series.
Mike Vosburg’s EC-style comic cover for “Only Skin Deep”, as seen in the Tales from the Crypt episode.
Despite donning a party mask for much of the episode, Carl can’t ever mask his true nature. The invitation did say “come as you are”, after all. That inability to change and be better, however, is why Carl ends up in such a karmic predicament. His outburst of anger at the party attracts the attention of one loner partygoer named Molly (Sherrie Rose, who was also in Season Four’s “On a Deadman’s Chest”). Her bone-white, featureless “mask” and body-bag costume don’t initially register as too strange, especially on a night like this. But at a party chock-full of colorful, cartoonish, and lighthearted ensembles, it does look out of place.
Darkness attracts darkness as Carl ditches the party and accompanies the mysterious Molly to her place. Which, by the way, should have been an immediate red flag. But perhaps she’s so hot, he doesn’t seem to mind the serial killer aesthetic. Resembling a warehouse that has been converted into living spaces, but never then decorated to remove the cold, industrial look, Molly’s home (or lair) is as gloomy as this whole episode feels. It’s like the set of a grungy music video, albeit a tad cleaner. The environments in a typical Crypt episode tend to be small, overfilled, and broken-in. Warm, regardless of any weird goings-on. All that empty space in Molly’s hovel, on the other hand, elicits a creepy feeling that Carl was unwise to ignore.
Tales from the Crypt featured more sex than it didn’t, but hands down, “Only Skin Deep” boasts the steamiest scene in the show’s history. Pushing it over the line, in addition to Onorati showing bare buns and the camera never turning down one of his pelvic thrusts, is the twisted dirty talk. Carl stays in the moment, whereas Molly unleashes charged lines like “the hurt, the anger, give it to me” and “take it out on my flesh like you want to”. It’s all quite kinky, as well as tied into the story’s theme of pain.
How else “Only Skin Deep” differs from other episodes is its twists. Or rather, its lack thereof. Nothing comes as a great surprise here, particularly because the deuteragonist’s ulterior motives are so obvious. By no means is Molly a wolf in sheep’s clothing; her face is a fright mask, she practically reeks of death, and she lives in what can best be described as a serial killer’s hideout. That last-act revelation of Molly’s mask really being her face is also nothing shocking. Cleverness is certainly not this episode’s strength.
A page from “…Only Skin Deep!”, as seen in EC Comics’ Tales from the Crypt.
While “Only Skin Deep” isn’t the most universally loved episode of Tales from the Crypt, it’s an interesting preview of William Malone’s future as a director. Most notably, he went on to helm House on Haunted Hill (1999) and FeardotCom (2002), the former of which was co-written by Dick Beebe, this episode’s writer. Dark Castle Entertainment, that genre house founded by Crypt producers Joel Silver, Robert Zemeckis, and Gilbert Adler, was instrumental in bringing out Malone’s gruesome, over-the-top vision in House on Haunted Hill. However, FeardotCom and Malone’s Masters of Horror episode, “Fair-Haired Child”, are the most stylistically compatible with “Only Skin Deep”.
As one might guess, this episode is nothing like its source material. The “…Only Skin Deep!” found in the pages of EC Comics is set during Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and save for its last couple of pages, is pretty sweet in nature. There, a man named Herbert is enamored with a woman he met five years prior to the present-day story. Every year, he has come down to Mardi Gras to see Suzanne, who’s always dressed as a hag-faced witch. Well, this time, Herbert plans on popping the question and marrying someone who is, for the most part, a total stranger. Suzanne accepts his proposal, but with one condition: they stay in costume until they’re officially hitched. You can probably see where this is going…
Once they are married, Suzanne remains incognito, even when she and Herbert have consummated their vows. A semi-predictive nightmare then rattles Herbert; he dreamt that Suzanne’s real face was as wizened as her mask. Finally, in his haste to find out the truth, Herbert winds up killing his new wife. Faceless and well on her way to bleeding out, the dying Suzanne manages to say she never wore a mask.
For more traditional EC-style ghastliness, your best bet is reading the comic. It’s wickedly sad. For something less conventional, as far as Tales from the Crypt goes, the role-reversing adaptation is worth watching. It’s not the best this show had to offer, although Malone’s visual style, plus the sexual abandon, does set the episode apart. If nothing else, “Only Skin Deep” leaves an impression that, even years later, shows no signs of fading.
Season Six of Tales from the Crypt can be streamed on Shudder, starting on June 5.
Tales from Tales from the Crypt celebrates the show’s Shudder premiere by singling out one episode from each season. So don’t even think about changing that dial, boys and ghouls. More spot-“frights” are to come.
Carl discovers Molly’s collection of human ‘masks’ in the Tales from the Crypt episode, “Only Skin Deep”.
You must be logged in to post a comment.