Editorials
An Experimental Slasher Remake: ‘The Town That Dreaded Sundown’ 10 Years Later
The Town That Dreaded Sundown has a hard time fitting in with other slasher remakes, essentially because it’s not really a remake to begin with. At least not in the traditional sense. Director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon and screenwriter Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa instead went beyond the expectations of most horror remakes. In lieu of mere reconstructions and callbacks, they offered a multifaceted story that acknowledges the 1976 film and its real-life basis. The end result is a movie within a movie that escapes simple classification. However, regardless of what this film is labeled as, The Town That Dreaded Sundown remains one of the most experimental slashers from this century.
Ryan Murphy brought a relatively obscure horror film to his friend and later co-producer, Jason Blum, in hopes of remaking what he called a “childhood favorite.” As unusual as it may be to have nostalgia for something like Charles B. Pierce’s The Town That Dreaded Sundown , a quasi-documentary cum proto-slasher inspired by the 1946 Texarkana Moonlight Murders, there is no denying its effectiveness. Knowing the real Phantom Killer was never officially apprehended only makes Pierce’s film eerier. That being said, the ’76 Town is rather oddball. When it’s not recreating the Phantom’s attacks with chilling effect — and some creative license — the story is injected with these intermittent bits of tragic relief. The humor is done at the expense of the police, yet the adjacency to murder reenactments leaves a weird taste in the mouth.
The indelicacy of Pierce’s The Town That Dreaded Sundown was identified and responded to long before there was a word (“murdertainment”) to describe such media. The remake doesn’t even try to avoid that notion of insensitivity; in fact, the film turns it into a set piece. The forceful opening sequence holds a mirror up to society, particularly true crime enthusiasts. To be fair, the classic Town plays around with the truth, and most viewers understand that. Even so, there is something morbid about Texarkana hosting retrospective screenings of Pierce’s film at Halloween. The remake is so quick to address that, and it does so with severity.
Image: Addison Timlin and Spencer Treat Clark’s characters are held at gunpoint by The New Phantom.
Murphy was right to pick Gomez-Rejon from his talent pool; aesthetically as well as tonally speaking, the American Horror Story alum knocked it out of the park with his first directed feature. Gomez-Rejon’s flair is quickly evident in the remake’s outset, which in itself is an aggressive demonstration of reflexive filmmaking. From a devious use of split-screen, to the taillight and the Phantom’s knife mimicking parts of a film projector, the remake is a rather shrewd piece of meta-horror.
As a remake, The Town That Dreaded Sundown does precisely what it’s expected to do while also putting its own spin on everything (which is not always intrinsic to every remake). And as opposed to just improving on the original, via effects or pure intensity, the newer film adds a copycat ingredient that only deepens the self-referentiality. The stratification taking place in the story — a remake reconstructing murders from a film based on real murders — is ambitious and, for the most part, successful. The remaking does not stop at the kills either; the assailant goes so far as replicating the tense and paranoid atmosphere of ‘46 Texarkana for a similar span of time. The totality of this remake’s approach is inspiring.
In addition to its narrative layering, The Town That Dreaded Sundown depicts grief uniquely and honestly. In contrast with horror films where the preexisting grief is vocal and active, the remake spreads the anguish over the entirety of Texarkana. And not just in the present; the dated fashion and old cars, the limited use of modern technology, and a general state of apathy all indicate how this place and its residents have been frozen in time for years upon years. There is this pervasive and nearly overwhelming inability to get past the Moonlight Murders. Needless to say, turning the most illustrative manifestation of that tragedy into an annual ritual is only deepening the immobility.
Image: The New Phantom.
The open-endedness of Pierce’s film, which was obviously a reflection of reality, leaves the audience with a haunted feeling. There is no closure to be had. As a piece of fiction, that incompleteness goes a long way; the imagination tangles with that ambiguity long after the story ends. Thematically though, it’s unsatisfying. What can be done when the real case continues to be unsolved? No amount of theories, crackpot or otherwise, can suffice without confirmation. Meanwhile, the remake takes the opportunity to finally turn the page and start a new chapter. The film finds itself an ending and gives its fabricated version of Texarkana the chance to move on. Final girl Jami (Addison Timlin) welcomes the chance, whereas others, as indicated by the resumed screenings, turn it down.
The Town That Dreaded Sundown came out at a time when slasher films were, once again, experiencing yet another downtrend. And until the subgenre recovered — as it usually does — horror was all over the place. The most notable trend of the early 2010s, found footage, was already on the way out, and home invasions were not too far behind. In retrospect, there was a veritable spaghetti-on-the-wall approach before a dramatic shift occurred in the industry. Those specializing in horror began to experience total creative control, and studios were willing to invest in more visionary talents. So had the Town remake been released then, maybe it would have turned out differently. Gomez-Rejon regretted caving to studio meddling that led to a shorter and less fully realized film.
Even in its current state, the remake is bold and innovative. Nothing quite like it has come out since then. And while most slashers would prefer to focus on the before and, to a lesser extent, the after, The Town That Dreaded Sundown tackles the often ignored in-between. The film’s fetching direction in combination with its sharp script makes that tale of transition all the more sizable.
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.
Image: Addison Timlin’s character Jami lies in the grass, bleeding from her encounter with The Phantom.
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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