Directed by:
Fede AlvarezCinematography:
Aaron MortonComposer:
Roque BañosCast:
Jane Levy, Shiloh Fernandez, Jessica Lucas, Lou Taylor Pucci, Elizabeth Blackmore, Stephen Butterworth, Jim McLarty, Phoenix Connolly, Bruce Campbell (more)VOD (4)
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First time director Fede Alvarez helms this reworking of Sam Raimi's 1981 cult horror. In an effort to straighten out their drug-ravaged friend Mia (Jane Levy), a group of five 20-somethings decide to decamp to an isolated backwoods cabin in the mountains of Tennessee. Once there, however, the group find themselves beset by demons from the nearby woods when they begin reading from an unearthed Book of the Dead. (StudioCanal UK)
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Well... Nothing new under the sun. Nothing good either. There's suspense in only about two scenes (Natalie going to get sugar and water, the final hiding), otherwise it’s more or less boring, disgusting things that aren't really disgusting because they get old right away, and the promising idea with the rehab is brought down by the stupid behavior of everyone - the living, the dead and the half-dead.
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What else was there to expect? A brutal parade of the utmost B-movieness, from the dark action and confused editing to the brain-deadness of the main characters. It's quite entertaining in places, the make-up effects are top-notch, and a few attempted references to Raimi's trilogy manage to get the audience properly pumped up, but the unprecedented whirlwind of horror clichés and silly twists, together with the filmmakers' absolute inability to come up with anything new made this otherwise enjoyable gore-fest significantly frustrating. If I gave 3* to the original, I have to stick with 2* here.
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I have already seen more useless remakes, and I quite understand that after the festival of Raimi's bloody surrealism and genre phantasmagoria, which culminated in the brilliantly unruly and nonchalantly campy Army of Darkness, Fede Alvarez wanted to go his own way. In the first half of the film, thanks to the dense atmosphere and unruly gore violence, he is quite successful, but it can't be tightened without irony, especially with the eruption of clichés at the end. Exaggeration is missing just like Ash's hand, blood sprays all the way to the next hall, but it all just fades out over time. When the new version came up with a "new" story, it should have tried to at least get something out of it (drug dumplings motif). It did not do so, and so the result is barely above average. This composition of old familiar motifs simply lacks any added value other than beautifully hysterical babes. But while all of Evil Dead was a totally misogynistic trilogy at its core, Alvarez eventually ruined it completely unnecessarily. Bleeding girls with a chainsaw are cheesy, but they can’t beat Ash with a shotgun...
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The original Evil Dead is an unsurpassed classic, yet I have to give the creators of this remake a cautious salute for the very bloody ending and the genuinely creepy atmosphere in places. It's kind of the modern viewer’s consumable material, but definitely at the better end of the spectrum. I appreciate the direct references to Raimi's Evil Dead! [60%]
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SPOILERS AHEAD. “Feast on this, motherfucker”, or “Why Men Don’t Understand Witchcraft and Why Women Shouldn’t Play with Electric Knives”. When this absurdly phallocentric horror movie turns into a “feminine” rape revenge flick at the end – using a quote from Carrie – that is the last of a plethora of extraordinary inconsistencies in content (as opposed to the filmmaking craftsmanship on display, which remains constantly at a high level). Evil Dead gives the impression of being a film by at least two directors, or rather multiple screenwriters (which it actually is), each of which took their own approach to Raimi’s original. Some of them are obliging toward horror fans, attempting to step out of the genre in a post-modern way and to make fun of the banality of slasher flicks. The others, who unfortunately had the last word, conversely slept through several decades and loaded the film down with terrors long past their sell-by date – fear of sexually transmitted infections (a curse passed on through bodily fluids) and of the wilderness, specifically a forest (which in the climax is ironically conquered using a non-environmentally friendly chainsaw). This disjointedness is directly personified in the film by the two male characters, who represent two possible types of viewers. David is prone to sentimentality and regrets every bruise. He lacks a sense of detachment. The rational Eric, on the other hand, remains above things, because he has read the book (everything has been written already). Like a knowledgeable horror-movie viewer, he has also read the source work, he knows what to expect and, together with the cynics in the audience, he is derisive of his friend’s oversensitivity. Both of them are necessary. If David doesn’t adhere to the horror clichés in his behaviour, the film would end a few amputations early, which we bloodthirsty viewers would not accept. Through Eric, we are simultaneously made aware that one the film’s creators ranks among the knowledgeable and sympathises with the community of horror fans. Surprisingly, the one who comes out on top in the end is neither of them, but rather the representative of the previously, mostly passively suffering (and, as the case may be, self-mutilating) gender. The delay in equalising gender strengths compels us to atypically redistribute our empathy to the body, which has caused others so much unpleasantness. (With respect to the body and carnality, it’s worth mentioning that the men in the film are usually penetrated by something – pellets, a needle, nails – whereas the women lose body parts – head, arms, legs; the Freudians can analyse and interpret that however they like). Thanks to the unsatisfying culmination of the drug storyline, we also retroactively become witnesses to the harshest withdrawal scene from Trainspotting. The unclear creative direction has unintentionally given rise to the subgenre of melodramatic horror, in which tumultuous family relationships are almost given greater care than the burning of witches and other forest activities (besides the gore scenes, the melodramatic “excessive” also refers to the spectacularly postponed reconciliation between the brother and sister). What can we learn from this very inconsistent film? The soul is more important than the body and drugs make you hoarse. Appendix: I definitely would not use the twice presented “medical” procedure of putting adhesive tape on anything that bleeds. 65%
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