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‘Sick’ – How Kevin Williamson Redefines the Final Girl (Again)

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Kevin Williamson Sick

Kevin Williamson built his career on peeking behind the curtain and breaking the rules. Scream deconstructed everything we thought we knew about horror films. So many imitators followed that the meta-horror movie sometimes feels like its own subgenre. Williamson understands why rules exist but knows that breaking them isn’t just fun but necessary for the genre’s evolution. Horror’s cause and effect model often penalizes characters, while those who practice general good behavior and listen to the angels on their shoulders often survive to see another sunrise. But for almost 30 years, Williamson’s shown no love for that tradition.

Scream reshaped the Final Girl into something else in 1996 when it threw the slasher rules out of the window. Now with Sick, scribe Kevin Williamson does the same for a new generation of fans while using an actual life-or-death scenario as the backdrop. One where following every single rule is vital to survival: the Covid-19 pandemic.

Needless to say, this article spoils Sick. If you haven’t seen it, come back after watching.

Sick takes place during the height of the pandemic. You remember the sparse grocery store aisles, the cable news addiction, and the days when a lone cough felt as dangerous as a knife to the throat. But everyone in its opening moments follows the rules. They’re correctly spaced in the store, wearing masks, and even taking extra precautions like wiping down everything with Lysol. That’s all the visual info needed for ample context. Within that construct, we know the rest of the do’s and don’t’s, so it’s jarring that the very second the main character Parker shows up, she’s disregarding several rules at once. First, Parker and her best friend Miri decide quarantining together beats doing it solo.

Second on her faux pas list, and possibly the most significant infraction, is a social media video showing Parker at a college party making out with a classmate. No masks. No distancing. Not even a Clorox wipe in sight. Just red solo cups as far as the eyes can see and more concern for doing everything society told us not to do than contacting a deadly virus. Calling Parker an awful person is a stretch, but she is callous. She exhibits flippancy towards Covid restrictions, and, in a twist for these types of flicks, she’s remorseless when her romantic interest professes his love. In yet another surprise, she’s not interested in a relationship. The movie never thoroughly explains why, but it paints a picture of someone enjoying the benefits of the single life. Again, this goes against tradition but in the best way possible because it makes everything that follows unpredictable.

Sidney Prescott and Julie James weren’t perfect, and, in fact, they both committed a couple horror cardinal sins. They both had sex, and one participated in a murder cover-up. But they’re both good friends who care about the people around them. And yes, even the person lying about her and her friends killing a man is ultimately trying to do the right thing because we see it in action. Put another way, Sidney and Julie want the audience’s affection, while Parker couldn’t care less. That’s not inherently wrong, but it goes against another one of horror’s unwritten rules about the Final Girl’s vulnerability. As an audience, we cheer for her escape and hope she stabs, shoots, burns, or dismembers the psycho in a mask. And not because of anything she does explicitly, but because we ultimately see her as someone worth caring about.

Parker makes choices before the danger comes and during its high points that aren’t saintly, but they are human. Part of Williamson’s deconstructive bent is getting us closer to realizing actual human beings on camera, complete with all the messiness and complexity that comes with the territory. Especially at the age when we believe we’re invincible and our youth is eternal. Alana Maxwell reluctantly participates in an awful prank in Terror Train while Parker knowingly and actively engages in unsafe behavior. So, there’s a price for that, right?

That’s where Sick subverts and flexes its satirical muscle. Parker really pays no price for breaking any rule, real or imagined. While clearly paranoid, the killers still have an understandable beef with Parker. It turns out the subject in Parker’s make out video was their son, who died of Covid shortly thereafter. Through their rudimentary contract tracing exercise, and with help from the fact Parker’s generation loves sharing their business with the world at all times, they assumed he contracted it from her. One swab of Parker’s nostrils reveals that she has Covid and is possibly asymptomatic. Does it involve several stretches that might make Reed Richards jealous? Of course. Is murder the proper grieving technique? Definitely not.

Sick Kevin Williamson

But thinking back to 2020, their perspective makes sense. Sick puts us firmly on Parker’s side for most of its runtime but asks us if we’re still there during the third act reveal. She not only took her life into her own hands but possibly infected someone else. And yet, she escapes. While most slashers traditionally say following the rules protects you, Sick renders the rules irrelevant and leaves it all to chance. Parker and Miri didn’t survive because they outsmarted the antagonists. They didn’t see another day because their nobility scale hit a higher peak than the grieving parents. Much like real life, some of us survived the pandemic doing every imaginable thing wrong while some perished doing everything right. Williamson’s sharp humor and playfulness hide what lurks at the center of Sick and most of his horror movies: Randomness remains the scariest thing in this world and knowing life’s rules will not save you.

Parker is a Final Girl for an era where all bets are off, and none of us know what lurks behind that corner we thought we knew so well. She also represents a more fleshed-out woman character rather than an idealized version that doesn’t exist. There’s nothing wrong with comfort food, but every so often, we need a voice breaking boundaries and rebelling against the norm. Williamson gave the Final Girl more agency over her body and her killers, which redefined her in the ’90s. He pushes that agency forward with Sick, a film that creates a compelling heroine who, even after doing almost everything wrong, still deserves to live.

Kevin Williamson Sick peacock

Editorials

‘Amityville Karen’ Is a Weak Update on ‘Serial Mom’ [Amityville IP]

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Amityville Karen horror

Twice a month Joe Lipsett will dissect a new Amityville Horror film to explore how the “franchise” has evolved in increasingly ludicrous directions. This is “The Amityville IP.”

A bizarre recurring issue with the Amityville “franchise” is that the films tend to be needlessly complicated. Back in the day, the first sequels moved away from the original film’s religious-themed haunted house storyline in favor of streamlined, easily digestible concepts such as “haunted lamp” or “haunted mirror.”

As the budgets plummeted and indie filmmakers capitalized on the brand’s notoriety, it seems the wrong lessons were learned. Runtimes have ballooned past the 90-minute mark and the narratives are often saggy and unfocused.

Both issues are clearly on display in Amityville Karen (2022), a film that starts off rough, but promising, and ends with a confused whimper.

The promise is embodied by the tinge of self-awareness in Julie Anne Prescott (The Amityville Harvest)’s screenplay, namely the nods to John Waters’ classic 1994 satire, Serial Mom. In that film, Beverly Sutphin (an iconic Kathleen Turner) is a bored, white suburban woman who punished individuals who didn’t adhere to her rigid definition of social norms. What is “Karen” but a contemporary equivalent?

In director/actor Shawn C. Phillips’ film, Karen (Lauren Francesca) is perpetually outraged. In her introductory scenes, she makes derogatory comments about immigrants, calls a female neighbor a whore, and nearly runs over a family blocking her driveway. She’s a broad, albeit familiar persona; in many ways, she’s less of a character than a caricature (the living embodiment of the name/meme).

These early scenes also establish a fairly straightforward plot. Karen is a code enforcement officer with plans to shut down a local winery she has deemed disgusting. They’re preparing for a big wine tasting event, which Karen plans to ruin, but when she steals a bottle of cursed Amityville wine, it activates her murderous rage and goes on a killing spree.

Simple enough, right?

Unfortunately, Amityville Karen spins out of control almost immediately. At nearly every opportunity, Prescott’s screenplay eschews narrative cohesion and simplicity in favour of overly complicated developments and extraneous characters.

Take, for example, the wine tasting event. The film spends an entire day at the winery: first during the day as a band plays, then at a beer tasting (???) that night. Neither of these events are the much touted wine-tasting, however; that is actually a private party happening later at server Troy (James Duval)’s house.

Weirdly though, following Troy’s death, the party’s location is inexplicably moved to Karen’s house for the climax of the film, but the whole event plays like an afterthought and features a litany of characters we have never met before.

This is a recurring issue throughout Amityville Karen, which frequently introduces random characters for a scene or two. Karen is typically absent from these scenes, which makes them feel superfluous and unimportant. When the actress is on screen, the film has an anchor and a narrative drive. The scenes without her, on the other hand, feel bloated and directionless (blame editor Will Collazo Jr., who allows these moments to play out interminably).

Compounding the issue is that the majority of the actors are non-professionals and these scenes play like poorly performed improv. The result is long, dull stretches that features bad actors talking over each other, repeating the same dialogue, and generally doing nothing to advance the narrative or develop the characters.

While Karen is one-note and histrionic throughout the film, at least there’s a game willingness to Francesca’s performance. It feels appropriately campy, though as the film progresses, it becomes less and less clear if Amityville Karen is actually in on the joke.

Like Amityville Cop before it, there are legit moments of self-awareness (the Serial Mom references), but it’s never certain how much of this is intentional. Take, for example, Karen’s glaringly obvious wig: it unconvincingly fails to conceal Francesca’s dark hair in the back, but is that on purpose or is it a technical error?

Ultimately there’s very little to recommend about Amityville Karen. Despite the game performance by its lead and the gentle homages to Serial Mom’s prank call and white shoes after Labor Day jokes, the never-ending improv scenes by non-professional actors, the bloated screenplay, and the jittery direction by Phillips doom the production.

Clocking in at an insufferable 100 minutes, Amityville Karen ranks among the worst of the “franchise,” coming in just above Phillips’ other entry, Amityville Hex.

Amityville Karen

The Amityville IP Awards go to…

  • Favorite Subplot: In the afternoon event, there’s a self-proclaimed “hot boy summer” band consisting of burly, bare-chested men who play instruments that don’t make sound (for real, there’s no audio of their music). There’s also a scheming manager who is skimming money off the top, but that’s not as funny.
  • Least Favorite Subplot: For reasons that don’t make any sense, the winery is also hosting a beer tasting which means there are multiple scenes of bartender Alex (Phillips) hoping to bring in women, mistakenly conflating a pint of beer with a “flight,” and goading never before seen characters to chug. One of them describes the beer as such: “It looks like a vampire menstruating in a cup” (it’s a gold-colored IPA for the record, so…no).
  • Amityville Connection: The rationale for Karen’s killing spree is attributed to Amityville wine, whose crop was planted on cursed land. This is explained by vino groupie Annie (Jennifer Nangle) to band groupie Bianca (Lilith Stabs). It’s a lot of nonsense, but it is kind of fun when Annie claims to “taste the damnation in every sip.”
  • Neverending Story: The film ends with an exhaustive FIVE MINUTE montage of Phillips’ friends posing as reporters in front of terrible green screen discussing the “killer Karen” story. My kingdom for Amityville’s regular reporter Peter Sommers (John R. Walker) to return!
  • Best Line 1: Winery owner Dallas (Derek K. Long), describing Karen: “She’s like a walking constipation with a hemorrhoid”
  • Best Line 2: Karen, when a half-naked, bleeding woman emerges from her closet: “Is this a dream? This dream is offensive! Stop being naked!”
  • Best Line 3: Troy, upset that Karen may cancel the wine tasting at his house: “I sanded that deck for days. You don’t just sand a deck for days and then let someone shit on it!”
  • Worst Death: Karen kills a Pool Boy (Dustin Clingan) after pushing his head under water for literally 1 second, then screeches “This is for putting leaves on my plants!”
  • Least Clear Death(s): The bodies of a phone salesman and a barista are seen in Karen’s closet and bathroom, though how she killed them are completely unclear
  • Best Death: Troy is stabbed in the back of the neck with a bottle opener, which Karen proceeds to crank
  • Wannabe Lynch: After drinking the wine, Karen is confronted in her home by Barnaby (Carl Solomon) who makes her sign a crude, hand drawn blood contract and informs her that her belly is “pregnant from the juices of his grapes.” Phillips films Barnaby like a cross between the unhoused man in Mulholland Drive and the Mystery Man in Lost Highway. It’s interesting, even if the character makes absolutely no sense.
  • Single Image Summary: At one point, a random man emerges from the shower in a towel and excitedly poops himself. This sequence perfectly encapsulates the experience of watching Amityville Karen.
  • Pray for Joe: Many of these folks will be back in Amityville Shark House and Amityville Webcam, so we’re not out of the woods yet…

Next time: let’s hope Christmas comes early with 2022’s Amityville Christmas Vacation. It was the winner of Fangoria’s Best Amityville award, after all!

Amityville Karen movie

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