House at the End of the Street: Tanks for the Mammaries

Somewhere up the road from the House on the Edge of the Park and just around the corner of The Last House on the Left, you will find the House at the End of the Street. I suppose if you were a little more optimistic, you could consider it the beginning of the street, but optimism isn’t a trait that will do much good for you going into this urinal stain of a film.    

Directed by Mark Tonderai, House at the End of the Street (or #HATES, if you’re a big Twitter user) is a psychological thriller starring Jennifer Lawrence as Elissa, a young woman with a voice so beautiful she sounds absolutely perfect whether she’s singing in the woods or a garage, but I digress. Elissa and her single, overprotective mother (played by Elisabeth Shue, who looks fantastic despite the tiredly written character) have just moved from the mean streets of Chicago to the not so mean gravel roads of some place in the woods. A place that, on the surface, seems safe, but little do they know that just four years earlier a little girl slaughtered her parents... in the HOUSE AT THE END OF THE STREET!

Being the new gal in the wooded ‘hood as well as being the lead singer in the sickest band in Chicago, Elissa is getting a lot of attention from all the boys, specifically a young loner type named Ryan (Max Thieriot). Ryan has a bit of a bad rep around town due to the fact that he is the oldest son of the people who were gruesomely murdered in the HOUSE AT THE END OF THE STREET! Worse yet, he still lives in the very house at the end of the street where his parents were killed, something that really ticks everyone off. Regardless, Elissa and Ryan hit it off, and it seems that all the negativity driven towards Ryan is unwarranted, so she’s all ready to drop her drawers for him at any minute. However, when your parents were slayed by your very own sister in the very house at the end of the street that you still live in, you are more than likely not to be trusted. Unfortunately for Elissa, this is the case.

It’s okay, though, because the power of song will protect us like a warm blanket on a winter’s day.

House at the End of the Street gets full use out of the word ‘generic’ in terms of storytelling and character development. In fact, it’s only a few dollars and a handful of good actors above a Lifetime movie, though at least most Lifetime movies can be pretty entertaining. While mostly a technically well-made film, hashtag hates is plagued by some horrific, random editing choices as well as strange attempts at stylized camerawork. I almost applaud the fact that there is an actual attempt at style, but unfortunately it’s as successful as me “attempting” to be Mr. Universe. The dialogue also shines about as brightly as sandpaper, as there are moments where characters barf out some utterly atrocious dialogue. One specific moment in particular is a scene where Elissa and her friend are talking about one of the boys in school:

Friend: “He’s a dick!”
Elissa: “He’s worse than a dick... he’s a dickhole!”
Friend: “Dickhole’s the new asshole.”

*laughter*

Me: “What the fuck.”

Moving on (and thankfully so), I feel as a member of society I am obligated to talk about one of the biggest stars of hashtag hates:

Elissa’s White Tank Top

The white tank top is THE perfect attire for the slightly dirty (but not, like, gross dirty), sweaty girl in peril, who also happens to have a very healthy amount of milk in the fridge. Oh, how the snuggly fit and slightly translucent fabric moves so gracefully around JLaw’s breasts as they swing around like a tilt-a-whirl covered by a tarp. It almost seems as if this wardrobe choice was intentionally exploiting her upper body... I mean, who needs good dialogue when you have nice titties in a tank?!

“Are you looking at my tits?!”

I’d #HATES to be so harsh on this film because it is at least bearable enough to sit through, but you still might be better off spending your time drinking toilet water. On the other hand, if you do decide to spend some time with House at the End of the Street, please feel free to try to beat my “I called the plot twist!” time of 4 minutes and 50 seconds.

The Loved Ones: Finger-Lickin' Good

After losing his father in a car wreck in which he was driving, Brent has been going through immense growing pains trying to deal with his dad's passing. Without a clear clue as to how to handle the pain that comes with such a loss, Brent (Xavier Samuel) has become slightly rebellious, resorting to self-inflicted physical pain to try and help cope with the hurt that he feels emotionally. Brent is a shell of what he once was, however, his relationship with his girlfriend, Holly (Victoria Thaine), is strong, and she would seem to be the best medicine for the infinite sadness that surrounds him. As bad as things have been for Brent, things aren't looking to get any better as an admirer named Lola (Robin McLeavy) asks Brent to the prom, an offer that Brent respectfully declines seeing as he is going with Holly. Not one to take no for an answer, Lola has Brent kidnapped so they can enjoy their own personal prom at her home, complete with disco ball and her father (John Brumpton) playing chaperone.   

Now, imagine if the Letherface clan from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 impregnated Annie Wilkes, then nine-months later she had a wittle baby girl and named her Carrie. Well, that's kind of the best way to describe The Loved Ones. The first feature film from writer/director, Sean Byrne, The Loved Ones is an Australian horror film with a wicked black sense of humor set primarily in one location. That location being a kitchen, living room, and dinning room combo made up to look like a prom only a psycho could appreciate. And psycho is no less than the perfect descriptive for a girl such as Lola, a twisted young lady that is not portrayed as a complete loser but more of a nobody, or at least somebody that really doesn't matter in the big scheme of high school.

As opposed to many lonely losers in high school set horror films, Lola is never shown getting picked on or belittled by her classmates. The only time she is really seen before her homemade promenade is when she actually asks Brent to the dance. While it's clear that she's not really the type of girl anyone wants to chill with on a hook-up level, Lola's not completely pathetic looking, either; she's just plain. Her motives for kidnapping Brent have nothing to do with revenge nor is there any need to fill a void left by being unwanted. It's much deeper than that as she has issues that delve well into a world of delusion as she has a need to control the people around her. Specifically with the relationship she shares with her father, which is one that floats an incestuous line where her domination is one part sexuality and another part daddy's little girl.

It's all quite sick and deranged, but as much as this film is twisted, The Loved Ones is filled with humor that is so dark, you might want to watch with a flashlight handy. A lot of where the humor stems from is due to a wonderfully sadistic and decadently mad performance put forth by Robin McLeavy as Lola. The Loved Ones is quite simply a perfect example of a black horror comedy, and the balance of the horror and humor in the film exactly mirror that of the character of Lola. Here is a movie that is funny enough, it's brutal enough, it's serious enough and all without any one of those individual elements being too overbearing. The comedic elements never take away from the horror of the situation, which is very important because there is a level of emotion brought to the table with some of the characters, something else that's never played off too heavily, either.     

As I mentioned, Lola is not portrayed as a complete waste, in the same token, Brent is not shown in a light that is negative, either. He's not the bully that you actually want to see get his just desert, instead, he is a pretty sad kid that is easy to feel sorry for, thus making him truly the victim in this situation. Brent is actually one of the few cinematic rebellious teens that doesn't completely irritate me, which is rare with most films of this nature. A lot of that has to do with Brent being someone that Byrne clearly wrote in a manner that respects the character and doesn't feel completely disconnected from the teenager as a real life entity. This is an area that can really hurt a film such as The Loved Ones, so it's nice to have characters that, while not breaking any boundaries, are well realized.

Spending much of the time in one location, The Loved Ones never overstays its welcome as things move along fairly quickly without too many lulls. Things are broken up with minute story lines following Brent's mother, as well as Holly, both of whom are clearly concerned for his well-being (which is only compounded by Brent's slightly suicidal state of mind). Another tool that is used to break up what could be the monotony of a long torturous dinner table scene is a side story focusing on Brent's pal, Jamie (Richard Wilson), who is on a date with the hot Goth chick, Mia (Jessica McNamee). The time spent with these two characters seemingly has nothing to do with the film's core, yet, it is all handled in a way where it doesn't feel boring and works to break things up unobtrusively. Furthermore, even if it seems there is no connection to the main story, there is a pretty heavy reveal that puts a small emotional punch behind Mia's rebellious motivations as well as something that connects her to the main plot.

The Loved Ones is not the most original picture to have ever been put to celluloid, but what's in place works and works wonderfully for the type of film that it is. It's not always an easy task balancing horror and comedy (let alone black comedy), but Sean Byrne has certainly come out swinging with this one, and I believe a lot of that has to do with him showing respect for both the genre as well as its fans.

Funny Twilight Title

Very recently, I was lucky enough to finally sit down and watch one of cinema's most provocative and discussed films, Twilight. It's almost weird even typing the name, as I would never have expected to watch and review this movie, let alone do so with a sort of high anticipation. Let me explain: I remember this one day I was at my old job, and everyone was telling me about this disgusting online video that was sure to make me hold back a drop or two of vomit. Some were saying that I just had to see this video, while others warned me, saying it is so gross, and not to put myself through the horrid imagery. Curiosity killed the Matt, and I went straight home and watched 2 Girls 1 Cup, and forever will I think differently about soft serve.

What I'm trying to get at here, is no matter how much I was warned about just how nasty this video was, I had to see it for myself. That is kind of the same thing that happened with me having to watch Twilight. Part of me was willing to put my taste at risk, to see something that I knew would be just plain awful. But just how awful could it be? That's the draw. I heard every complaint about Twilight more times than I would care to, but that may have just added a little fuel to the fire, making me want to see the movie even more.

Now, I have more than once expressed my love for bad cinema. While I am constantly on the hunt to expand my celluloid horizons by watching all types of film, and as much as I love a Harold and Maude, or a Rashômon, I almost equally love something like The Room, or Trick or Treat. At times, my bad taste even extends to a certain enjoyment of films that are pretty much terrible. I can find something about them that keeps me watching and interested. I actually thought that Twilight might be that movie in the dark moments leading up to my maiden voyage, however, I was quite wrong.

Strangely, I am really wanting to see New Moon and eventually Eclipse, because I have to see just how bad it can all get. While I can find great joy in laughing at a movie that has me scoffing about terrible performances, moronic puke faces, terrible cinematography and awful music, I didn't find much joy in Twilight. I should love this film for how terrible it is, but it is just that horrendous that it cannot even find appreciation from someone who might possibly give it some. I don't even care about the bastardization of vampire mythology, I am someone that really knows the mythology quite well, but it still doesn't bother me all that much. Let them have their vampires be as girly as they want, it makes for a great laugh and it doesn't change the mythology outside of the Twilight tweeniverse.

What does bother me most is that some people really do think that Twilight is a great movie. Twilight is flat out insulting to the intelligence of the general public, but not that insulting if they eat it up with a glazed look in their eyes and a smile. Now, if you're a 16-year-old chick/dude with a taste for eyeliner, I have no issue with you liking it. It's made for you. Actually, I have no issue with an adult liking it, so long as they can at least admit that it's not a good film. There is such thing as a guilty pleasure, I have many, and guilty pleasure grants a very free and open pass to like garbage. I, shamefully, love Dawson's Creek. I didn't always love that awful show, in fact, I thought it was completely moronic and talked all sorts of shit about it. Then, thanks to syndication, one late night I got roped in well after the show had gone off the air, and born was a very guilty pleasure and a life choice…Dawson or Pacey.

I could have gone 900 different ways with this review, and there are 900 different things to say about this film, which is funny, because nothing even happens until the last 45 minutes? But Twilight has been torn apart by so many in so many different ways that I need not tread the details. It's way too easy. Though, a caption post would have been great, or even one about the epic Kristen Stewart hospital performance that was recently recreated by Mindy McCready on Celebrity Rehab. Maybe now that I have seen Twilight, I can talk about it and mention how bad it blows, but realistically, I couldn't care less when it comes down to it. In the end, the only things I got out of watching Twilight are the fact that I conquered one of the most infamous films ever made, and that girls really shouldn't shop at Eddie Bauer.

Stepfather Factory

So it's father's day and with that comes the need to do something thematic, as well as the need to put myself through some possible torture at the same time. Sadly, the first thing that came to mind when I thought, "what can I do for father's day?" was to do a review of The Stepfather remake. It's on instant view and chances are it will make for an interesting review. Maybe.

In a way, there isn't all that much to say about The Stepfather narratively. It's a remake that follows the 1987 movie pretty closely, which is basically about a man that only wishes to have the perfect family, but when that systematized delusion is not met, this "stepfather" discards of his family by killing them, then moves on to his next family and the possible chance for unified family bliss. He finds a venerable woman, whom, thanks to a recent divorce, is single with kids and he swoops in with a gallon bucket full of charm, working his way into their lives in the hopes of forming the ideal family.

The Stepfather was directed by Nelson McCormick, a man who has directed a ton of television but is best known to horror fans as the director of Prom Night 2008. I reviewed that film some time ago over at Paracinema, and while I wasn't a big fan, I knew it was not made for my eyes as they are too old for that film. It was made for those youngsters and their skateboards. Still, it was a terrible movie, so what can I expect when McCormick comes back for yet another tween-geared remake of an 80’s horror film? Not much, but it is better than Prom Night at least.

As with Prom Night, The Stepfather is technically adept, but very standard at the same time. There is little to no creativity, but it does work as a functional film. The same can be said for the acting, which is nothing special, but everyone is solid, with Dylan Walsh's performance being well played and creepy enough, while not nearly as memorable as what was done by the ever so intense Terry O'Quinn.

Even if the film is close to competent, it also fails where so many unoriginal horror movies do. There is a so bad it hurts jump scare, with a cat no less, which caused me to punch my own cat in retaliation. There is a moment where a window is broken in the basement using the sound of thunder as cover…because a window being smashed in and thunder sound so much alike. The family that is chosen by the stepfather has three siblings, one that would be the main focus, while oddly enough, the other two are hardly ever around, especially the younger sister who is seen no more than two or three times. Then there's the whole cell phone ringer issue that is just going to cause my blood pressure to rise if I get into it, so I'll leave it at that.

Something that stood out like a sore dick was the obvious product placement. Every character uses a Mac, which is whatever, but the one that had me shaking my head in disbelief was the amount of time the game Burnout Paradise spends on screen. There is a least three moments where the kids are shown playing it, with a close up of the screen no less, but the kicker is the game's case is actually propped up at one point, right in front of the TV in which they are using. I can somewhat give a pass to a character drinking a mountain dew or some shit, but who props up a game case in front of their television? It was painfully lame.

Being better than Prom Night isn't much of a stretch, and I think it's only better due to this version staying on the rails of the original more than Prom Night did. However, that does play into the films lack of originality, and at least Prom Night tried to be its own movie, whether or not it was awful. The Stepfather is completely predictable, and even if it wasn't a remake, it is like so many movies that have come before it, from frame one, you know exactly what will happen in the film's runtime. You know that there are characters that will question the motives of the titular character, and you know he will end their life short to keep his cover and his dream of the perfect family alive. You know that the oldest child will be weary of this new man in his family’s life, and will spend the runtime trying to figure out what this dudes deal really is. It's overly dramatic familiarity.

One thing that is definitely better about this remake compared to Prom Night is the fact that one of the two main characters is an adult. That keeps the teen aspect to a lesser degree, as he is the main focus over the eldest son. While the "teen" aspect is there, complete with shitty pop-punk-commercial-rock music, it was all slightly acceptable due to how the presence of Amber Heard (who is best known to horror fiends as the titular character in All the Boys Love Mandy Lane) is handled.

I can see where those boys are coming from after seeing The Stepfather. While this kept me interested way more than much of the film, it is oddly gratuitous and exploitative in a movie that other wise remains cookie cutter and almost safe. She's good in the movie, but her character serves no other reason than to look hot in string bikinis or to have her tits falling out the top of her shirt. And the fact that Mandy Lane has yet to see a release, but The Stepfather has, speaks volumes to the injustice that is life for the horror fan.

Poor product placement, an unoriginal and predictable premise, good looking-half naked teens, catchy pop music, easily digestible…in the end, The Stepfather is nothing short of Hollywood exploitation by way of a PG-13 rating.