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Why Are We Acting Like Smart, Socially Conscious Horror is Something New?

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The horror world, like the box office, is being completely dominated at the moment by Jordan Peele’s Get Out, one of the most critically acclaimed horror films of all time. Countless articles and think-pieces have been making their way around the net in the wake of last weekend’s release, and it’s been really great to see. Even sites and writers who don’t often talk horror can’t help but sing the praises of Get Out, which is without question one of the most impressive debut films we’ve ever seen.

Why is everyone so in love with the movie? Well, for starters, it’s a damn good movie. Go figure. It’s unique, it’s from a fresh perspective, and it’s boldly original, blending elements from the past into something entirely new and, more importantly, something with something to say. Get Out, you could say, is the perfect movie that was released at the perfect time, effectively exorcising some of the social demons that are rearing their ugly head perhaps now more than ever here in America. With his debut feature, Peele sets his sights on racism (particularly the liberal kind that wears a smiling, welcoming face), using the horror genre to tackle heavy subjects like slavery and the appropriation of black culture.

Writers who are admittedly much smarter than I have been digging deep into the layers of meaning behind Get Out all week long here on the net, so my intention isn’t to write another one of those pieces. It’s already been done, and it’s been done way better than I could ever do it. But on a related note, I have taken notice of something interesting that I would like to address.

Ever since Get Out was released, I’ve come across a handful of articles praising the film for being smart and socially conscious, two things that the #1 movie in America most definitely is. But that praise often comes at the expense of, well, the horror genre at large. While complimenting Get Out, many writers (most of whom seem to have been paying little attention to the genre over the years) have been giving the ole backhand to horror in the process, presenting this idea that horror movies never really had any depth or meaning in a pre-Get Out world. Several of these articles have pointed out how dumb horror movies tend to be, and they’ve pondered if Get Out will be paving the way for a new breed of horror film. How novel! GOOD horror movies?!

What’s so frustrating about these articles, as a longtime horror fan, is that social and political commentary has been an inherent aspect of the genre since the very beginning – much to the surprise, apparently, of many horror fans, who have been insisting in the wake of President Trump’s inauguration that politics and horror should be kept separate. The flaw in this way of thinking is that politics and horror have been intertwined from the start; in other words, Get Out isn’t the first of its kind, it’s merely the latest in a long line of great horror films with something important to say.

And Jordan Peele is well aware of that, naming Rosemary’s Baby as a huge influence on his film. Roman Polanski’s classic is, yes, a horror movie about a woman giving birth to the spawn of Satan, but more importantly, it’s an examination of patriarchal oppression of women and, particularly, of their bodies. Well would you look at that. Smart, politically-conscious horror way back in 1968!

Of course, the horror genre’s deepest roots are steeped in political subtext, dating back long before Rosemary gave birth to her baby. Universal’s Dracula, released in 1931, is at its core a film about immigration fears, with the title character himself being a European immigrant. Then there’s Night of the Living Dead, a film that (whether it was George Romero’s original intention or not) completely broke the mold and gave us a black hero fighting off a sea of white attackers – in the end, our black hero is perceived to be the villain by a white man, and he’s shot dead. Romero’s subsequent zombie films were very much intentionally loaded with social commentary; Dawn of the Dead was nothing if not a satire of consumer culture. So too was John Carpenter’s They Live, perhaps the most effective deconstruction of consumerism and media manipulation in cinema history.

The list goes on and on, but the point here is that most of our favorite horror movies, whether we initially even realized it or not, have more going on beneath the surface than above it. Subtext, whether directly on the nose or a bit less obvious, is what has always made great horror movies great – you can choose to explore it or ignore it, that’s your prerogative, but to outright deny it’s even there is to do a huge disservice to literally the entire history of the genre we all love so much. This is nothing new, and that’s true even if you’ve only been watching horror for the past 10 or 20 years.

Films like Saw and Hostel were labeled “torture porn” by the genre’s detractors, but the two franchises are not without their own social commentary. Hostel is a film about the rich literally buying the poor and doing with them whatever they please, and though Saw may be a franchise that’s all about blood, guts, and creative dismemberment, there’s a bit more going on than most will ever give it credit for. Saw VI, for example, addressed the problems with healthcare in America – it may be ham-fisted and probably didn’t resonate for most viewers, but it’s present in the material all the same.

And then there’s The Purge franchise, which has consistently made it a point to show how much the annual event favors the rich over the poor; more than anything, it’s a way for the rich to eradicate the poor. The futuristic concept, launched a full four years before Get Out, uses the horror genre to start those important discussions and make those observations about the real world we live in every day. And really, at the end of the day, that’s what both the horror and sci-fi genres have always been about.

While I agree that horror movies with something to say are on the rise at the moment, and will likely continue to become more prevalent in our current political climate (The Purge: Election Year, released last year, was already a direct response to what was coming), the reality is that horror has long been at the forefront of social and political change. Filmmakers like Jordan Peele understand that the freedom provided by the genre allows for those issues to be tackled – and really, what better way to tackle our collective societal fears than with the one genre that thrives on our… fears?

Get Out is one of the most important horror films of my lifetime, but what it isn’t is an example of horror finally smartening up, as some would lead you to believe. Rather, it’s yet another great example of what has always made horror the most interesting, important, and socially-relevant genre of them all. If you track the history of the genre, you’ll notice that the best horror always comes around when the world is experiencing political and/or social strife, and I assure you that nothing about that is a coincidence.

That’s just horror doing what horror does best. What it has ALWAYS done best.

Writer in the horror community since 2008. Editor in Chief of Bloody Disgusting. Owns Eli Roth's prop corpse from Piranha 3D. Has four awesome cats. Still plays with toys.

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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