Evil Dead Burn: Flesh for Fantasy

Evil Dead Burn: Flesh for Fantasy

Evil Dead Burn locks in within the first opening scene, where rootless Joseph (Hunter Doohan), a wannabe writer, is having a hard time coming up with original material. What’s a writer to do? Well, Joseph investigates his grandfather’s old tapes and research materials that he’s found in the house he inherited. His grandfather just happened to be Joseph Price (Michael Hurst), part of the infamous Circle of the Wise Men, who were introduced in Evil Dead Rise.

Joseph ends up finding a canvas bag full of nasty treasures hidden behind the baseboard, which directly links us back to the now-familiar lakefront and dock in front of a cabin, where Deadite Jessica rises from water, summoned by the bag’s clanking. Jessica is the same character who cold opens the film Evil Dead Rise, though she’s now played by stuntwoman Greta van den Brink in Evil Dead Burn. Since we appear to be smack-dab in the middle of trilogy or tetralogy if you include 2013’s Evil Dead, I hope we might get more of her backstory in Evil Dead Wrath, which has finished shooting and is due to hit screens in April 2028.

After Jessica emerges from the lake with a creepy pop of her hip and has fed, she’s ready to raise havoc. A short distance away, Joseph parties with his older brother Will (George Pullar) and Will’s French wife Alice (Souheila Yacoub), celebrating Joseph’s birthday. Will’s a control freak obsessed with money and status, and he gives Joseph a thousand-dollar pen while negging him: “It’s to help you complete your novel in progress. What is it—five now?” Will’s wife Alice is obviously annoyed with her husband, but ignores him to give Will’s brother Joseph a black-and-white photo she took of him during one of his happiest moments. This sets up two of the themes that are being explored in this Evil Dead franchise reboot: dysfunctional family dynamics versus what are considered more traditional family values.

Deadite Jessica returns from the lake, linking Evil Dead Burn directly to the opening nightmare of Evil Dead Rise.

Will and Alice fight because he intended the pen to be from both of them and doesn’t like the extra attention his wife gets for her photo, which he attributes to the very expensive camera he bought her. The fighting spills out into the club’s parking lot, where Alice flinches underneath his touch, and it’s apparent that more than verbal abuse is going on in this marriage. Miffed, Will takes off solo in his car, driving drunk, and I was thrilled when he ran into Deadite Jessica on a dark and winding road. She causes him to end upside down in a ditch and, before he’s killed in a car fire, commands him: “Take me to your family.” This is the burn motif of the movie, which works well overall except for the last part of the film.

After Will’s death, we pick up with Joseph’s girlfriend Thya (Luciane Buchanan) putting makeup on Alice, getting her ready for Will’s funeral at a crematorium. The rest of her husband’s dysfunctional family arrives, his frosty, ice-blond mother (Tandi Wright), monosyllabic dad (Erroll Shand), and batshit grandmother (Maude Davey, who’s a real delight in the film). With few words, they let Alice know just how much they disapprove of her. The emotional weather is high, but it does feel predictable. Awful parents raised a disrespectful son who abused his wife. He was the golden child while younger son Joseph is the fuckup, who can’t commit to anything and is scared of his own shadow.

Grandma Polly steals every scene she’s in, proving that the elderly remain one of horror’s most underutilized weapons.

Alice is set up as the film’s protagonist and our final girl, though it’s not a very original story. I do like how these recent Evil Dead films are centered more around women’s stories, but I think some depth could be added to them. The human counterparts to the Deadites are rather boring compared to how much fun the Deadites seem to be having. Given the choices, I think I’d much rather join their team. The body horror in Evil Dead Burn is excellent and relentless once the story gets started, only faltering near the end of the film. I love the exquisite detail given to the Deadite flesh, which is portrayed in a painterly fashion. Some of the makeup and prosthetic work reminds me of artist Lucian Freud, who was known for the grotesque way he portrayed human flesh. I could also see Italian giallo influences in the movie, particularly with the blood stippling that happens in some scenes and the eroticism displayed between two of the Deadites. When death comes, it’s made beautiful in Evil Dead Burn.

The grotesquerie of flesh that Lucian Freud’s known for in his painting Benefits Supervisor Sleeping.

After a good amount of tension and stunning visuals in the first two-thirds of the movie, I found the ending lackluster in comparison. The “burn” in Evil Dead Burn begins with the car fire killing Alice’s husband and launching the family breakdown as members are picked off one by one and made into Deadites. The crematorium scene with Jake (Shyamal Singh) is so much fun and probably my favorite of the film, with Singh giving some of the zaniness that the original Evil Dead series is known for. But when the film tries to bring everything together and zing its central theme home, the final boss who Alice encounters comes off as oddly neutered. After so much loving detail given to the makeup and prosthetics for other family members, the burning Deadite that Alice faces looked too CGI for me and not scary at all. I think going hyperrealistic with the burns would have played better with makeup and prosthetics like those used in HBO’s medical drama The Pitt.

Make sure to stick around for the two post-credit scenes, which offer teasers for how the next installment of this series might play out, possibly tying all the stories up. We have Grandma Polly, one of my favorite characters in the film, infect the next victim, and there’s a callback to Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland), the scary mom Deadite in Evil Dead Rise. I’m curious to see how 2028’s Evil Dead Wrath might expand on these characters in an installment that’s going to be a prequel to the original Evil Dead.

31 Days of Horror: The Sadness (2021) Review: When Violence Becomes Contagious

After the twisted, delirious showing of Titane last night, my sister was on her A game trying to deliver tonight. She selected the Taiwanese zombie film The Sadness, a Shudder original that’s available to stream on that channel. Kristi was chortling because of a review posted by a horror aficionado who said this was the type of movie that people walk out of the theaters on and that even he, a gorehound, found deeply upsetting. Definitely not a  movie I would pick out for myself, but rules are rules. So I finished my dinner before we started watching and kept my yellow notebook beside me to jot down notes in if things got too extreme. www.youtube.com/watch?v=qwZMZOS_dh0

Kat (Regina Lei) and Jim (Berant Zhu), a likable couple, wake up to what will be their last normal morning, though they don’t know it. Kat and Jim have a little tiff because of the trip they’ve planned for the next week. Kat works a 9 to 5 and has to negotiate hard to take off any of her allotted ten vacation days a year; meanwhile, Jim is freelance and has to take work when he can get it. And a big job has arrived for just that week of planned vacation, and he can’t afford to turn it down. They go about their morning doing the usual mundane things—getting dressed, rustling up breakfast. In foreign movies, I’m always so jealous of what the characters are eating for breakfast: bowls of noodles, an eggroll and pork-fried rice, or in this case, a bao dumpling with hot sauce. I should try one of these variations when I get back from California next week, just for something different.

There’s a tense, ominous atmosphere already with news about the Alvin virus spreading, and much of the public not believing in the doctors who say it’s something akin to rabies. And though this movie is violent and disturbing, there are some shots that are just heartbreakingly beautiful, which was really jarring to my emotions. One comes while Jim takes Kat to the train station on his motorbike. In slow motion, they pass a gruesome scene with police cars, an ambulance, and the aftermath of blood and violence, and Kat touches Jim’s back, just a reassurance that they are okay during this moment of chaos. However, that just marks the beginning of the chaos.

The Alvin virus infects humans and rapidly turns them into zombies unlike any I’ve ever seen. These zombies move quickly like the ones in 28 Days Later, but they do it with a rictus of a smile on their faces and talk dirty, saying the most vile things. Once I got over that shock, I realized that these zombies were also capable of sexual violence and almost seemed to seek it out.

It’s a Grand Guignol of a movie with slaughteramas that are almost beautiful with thick sprays of blood, but then the flesh creeps when the zombies lower their suspenders or pants and you realize what’s happening off-camera.

31 Days of Horror: Titane (2021) Review: A Violent, Intimate Vision of Body Horror and Identity

I was a big fan of Julia Ducournau’s Raw when it came out in 2016 and have been waiting a long time for a follow-up from her. This year her Palme d’Or-winning feature Titane is available to stream on Hulu, and so that’s how we spent our Tuesday night. www.youtube.com/watch?v=rzq-_f1fW_s

The body horror that’s part of Ducournau’s style emerges within the first twenty minutes of the film, as well as some of her commentary on the hell of being a woman. And she goes harsh. There were several scenes where I had to put my hands up in front of my face. (Always peeking through my fingers, but the hands are up just in case.)

I saw a lot of similarities between Raw and Titane right away. The protagonist of the film is named Alexia (Agatha Rousselle), just like the sister of Justine, the main character of 2016’s Raw. And Garance Marillier who played Justine in Raw appears as a Justine in Titane as well, though for a shorter period of time. It makes me wonder what the significance of these names are for Ducournau and if this will be an emerging theme in later works.

Alexia is involved in a terrible car accident when she’s younger caused by her father trying to discipline her while driving. She suffers a traumatic brain injury and has a steel plate put in her head that appears to alter her personality. When Alexia is finally discharged from the hospital, the first thing she does is hug and kiss the car involved in her accident. She has more affection for it than she does for her own parents.

Several years later, Alexia has grown up into a tattooed young woman who works as a model at car shows. Rather than just posing with the automobiles, Alexia writhes and moans Tawny Kitaen-style on her car, putting together an erotic dance that outshines all the other car models. She’s obviously the star in this niche world. Alexia’s fan base is rabid as she signs autographs, and she’s even chased by one of her overeager worshippers and lets him catch her. This is how the audience learns that she’s a serial killer. Sexual urges seem to lead Alexia into murdering her victims; she starts to engage aggressively with different partners, but then it’s almost as if something shuts off and she gets bored, leading to murder.

News programs appear in the background of early scenes detailing missing children and the recent victims of a possible serial killer, which makes me wonder if Alexia has been killing for a very long time. Alexia still lives with her parents, but after she discovers she’s pregnant with very odd symptoms, she locks them in their room and takes off. In a train station, Alexia discovers that there’s a police sketch of her likeness in connection to the recent murders, but near those are also a photo of a boy who went missing years earlier. With a horrific bathroom makeover, Alexia is able to masquerade as a skinny boy and is reunited with her “father” Vincent (Vincent Lindon), the hyper-masculine captain of a fire brigade.

The pregnancy and Alexia finding acceptance for who she is through Vincent happens in the fraternity-like atmosphere of the firehouse. When the firemen are not battling disaster simulations and situations, they hold rave parties near the firetrucks, and Alexia treats them to one of her special car dances. Some are disgusted while others love it.

I’m with the latter half. Titane was gross, fun, and I completely loved it.

31 Days of Horror: Hatching (2022) Review: When Motherhood Turns Monstrous

Thirty-one days of horror started three years ago when we were at the height of quarantine. October has always been a favorite month with lots of events—readings and get-togethers with my chapter of the Horror Writers Association, haunted houses, and always a big Halloween party on the thirty-first. But with everything still closed at the end of 2020, we had to come up with another way to celebrate. So my sister and I decided to watch a horror movie for each night of October, where we took turns picking a film each night. The only rule was that neither of us could have seen it before.

It’s become a wonderful experiment where I watch things I would never normally pick out for myself, and there’s a huge sense of competition because we always want to outdo each other with our choices. There have been a few stinkers, like The Lighthouse and Climax. But generally, it has elevated my horror game. We usually end up watching a fair amount of foreign horror films because those end up being the movies we haven’t seen yet. And a lot of times those are really scary for me because they don’t follow the American horror tropes that I know so well.

My sister had been thinking on her choice for a couple of days and selected HATCHING, a 2022 Finnish horror film that’s available on Hulu. I watched the trailer and was looking forward to sinking my teeth into this one. It had a Grimm fairy tales feel to it, but also included sports and modern twists. We had to restart the movie at the beginning because somehow the settings were tuned to English narration. We were getting a very creepy monotone voice saying things like “IFC logo appears with blood dripping off the I; girl appears in blue leotard; there is tickling.” Disturbing already and worth a laugh, but we prefer to hear the foreign movies in their original language with English subtitles. And sometimes I can even understand some of the words with my hodgepodge knowledge of German, Spanish, and Italian.

Once we got HATCHING properly started, I was creeped out by the perfect polish of this perfect Finnish family in their perfect house. Lots of blond hair, two children playing, and fuzzy zoom-ins of Mom and Dad kissing while their daughter looks on fondly and her brother rolls his eyes. Then the tableaux is shattered as a bird strikes the living room window.

Picture-perfect IKEA family.

We zoom out of this stylized family portrait in its IKEA-style setting and now see that Mom’s holding her phone on a selfie stick as she cobbles together content for her vlog. She’s an influencer using her family as props and intends for the focus to always fall on her. However, it’s her daughter Trija, her oldest child on the precipice of puberty, who steals the film. And it’s a wonder to see. Siiri Solalinna plays Trija, and the many expressions this young actress uses to portray this people-pleasing daughter are like quicksilver, portraying so many facets of her character.

“Eye of the Tiger” Trija (Siiri Solalinna) in Hatching.

My favorite is eye-of-the-tiger Trija when she’s training hard as a gymnast for her first big competition, something that Mom (Sophia Heikkilä) has been amping up on her channel. The intensity of her eyes as she jogs could burn down trees. Mom ends up being a stage mother of staggering proportions, forcing her daughter to practice routines until her hands are blistered. Trija finds an egg in the creepy woods and bonds with it while her mother is away during the weekends for “vlogging” conferences—yeah, right.

Something is growing—and it won’t stay contained.

Eventually, this egg hatches into something, and I can’t say I was in love with the look of the thing when it emerged. It was giving me goofy Howard the Duck vibes, but it does morph through the course of the film becoming something deep and meaningful for Trija as this mother-daughter saga unfolds.

What you suppress doesn’t disappear.

There are some genuine gross-out moments where I was holding my hand over my mouth, feeling my gorge rise. I thought, You’re not going down that road. But yes, director and writer Hanna Bergholm did, and I’m not mad about it.

All in all, a wonderful film to start off 31 Days of Horror.

Raw (2016) Review: Sister Love Grows Rancid

I blundered into Raw not even knowing it was a horror film, which was the most delicious surprise. Buried under deadlines early in the week, I depended on my friends to pick the movie and didn’t check reviews, summaries, or anything. We went to see the eight o’clock showing of Raw at the Angelika on Houston Street, and luckily, I didn’t get anything at the snack bar. This is not the type of movie where you want to have nibbles by your side.

In the French horror film Raw, studious, square Justine (played by Garance Marillier) is taken to veterinary school by her parents, and early on, it’s established that they are strict vegetarians. She’s dropped off in the parking lot of what looks like a sad, gray industrial complex, where her older sister is supposed to meet her. Justine’s parents aren’t surprised when the older sister’s a no-show, and Justine trudges off alone, dragging her red suitcase, to find her dorm—quite different, I think, from how American parents would be portrayed, dropping off their progeny at college.

 

Justine finds out that she’s rooming with a male instead of a female, but he tells her he’s gay so the school counts him as a woman. Not sure what to do with herself, Justine goes to bed, only to be woken in the darkest hours of the night by a team of screaming people dressed in graffiti-covered lab coats with masks covering their faces. They toss all the rookies’ beds, clothes, and other belongings out the windows, trashing their rooms, and Justine and fellow first years are made to crawl through some underground complex until they arrive at a raging party, where Justine is finally reunited with her much cooler older sister Alexia (played by Swiss actress Ella Rumpf). This is just the first part of a hazing ritual that all the rookies have to go through.

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Sisterhood here is less comfort than contagion.

Similar events happen after that, including one where Justine has to eat a rabbit kidney. She balks at this after being a vegetarian for so long, but her older sister bullies her into doing it. The kidney makes her ill, giving her the dry heaves, but that’s nothing compared to the bloody rash she wakes up with. Watching Justine’s itching reminded me of what happens when I go camping and forget the super-DEET bug spray. Just the sound of her fingernails on skin made me cringe. I get baseball-sized welts after mosquitos bite me, and sometimes the itching is so bad that I’ll go after the bites with a hairbrush, resulting in hamburger skin. But that just happens in an isolated patch. Poor Justine has hamburger skin all over her body once she’s done itching.

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The body changes first. Everything else follows.

 

Shortly after that, she starts having cravings for meat. They start out mild, with her stealing a hamburger patty from the lunch line and then wolfing down shawarmas with her roommate. But they soon progress to cannibalism, where she experiments with human flesh after an unfortunate waxing incident. It was gag-inducing to watch Justine snacking on a dismembered digit like a chicken wing and hard to look at the screen. I panned across the audience and saw people rolling in their seats, covering their eyes or hiding their faces against their partners. After a few seconds of the eating, though, you do get desensitized. I kept telling myself, it’s just a hot dog, it’s just a hot dog, and it turns out the actress playing Justine had to do something similar to psych herself up for the scene. Marillier told W Magazine, “You know, it was sugar. I was eating candy. If there was any difficulty, it was finding the reality in the scene so I wasn’t thinking, I’m just eating sugar.

 

For showings in Los Angeles, staff handed out barf bags to the audience after fainting was reported from Canadian moviegoers. I’m not sure how the two correlate or if that was a marketing scheme, but the gore isn’t gratuitous. Some of the body horror is uncomfortable, but I think that’s because it’s woven in with some gruesome rituals that females engage in for the sake of beauty.

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Hunger becomes language.

My favorite part of Raw is the intense sister relationship between Justine and Alex. It’s well portrayed with moments of extreme tenderness and thuggish brutality. At one moment, Justine and Alex are getting drunk together and laughing, and in the next, they’re trading bite for bite in a parking lot fight, with one bite in particular reminding me of a hellish scene in Cape Fear. There’s jealousy and competition—the essence of a sister relationship. I wish Raw was around years ago when I compiled “Top Five Sister Horror Movies” because it’s definitely a contender. I might have to revise my list.