Drag Me To Hell

It's been almost two weeks since I saw the 10:50 showing of this film at an overpriced downtown Chicago theatre (thanks Joe!) and I'm still trying to come up with my opinion. The first time I saw the trailer for Drag Me To Hell I became about as upset as I was the first time I saw the trailer for The Exorcism of Emily Rose--which I've since enjoyed OnDemand no less than 30 times with my roommates Katie and Poppy (as well as an occassionaly bereft, whimpering Lauren Lipovic) to learn that I love and find it hilarious--which became a game of how quickly I could leave the room so that I didn't have to sit through it crying in a puddle of fear and urine. With Drag Me To Hell the feeling of 'please don't make me watch that again' resurfaced in a way I would've never expected. Where was Alison Lohman's retainer from Matchstick Men? Why was Justin Long doing this to me? I actually began a post on this entitled "Please Stop Showing This On TV!" which was obviously abandoned, for the following reasons.

1) Good reviews. When a movie is good by the standards of those I trust and read I want to see it.

2) Word of mouth. I heard countless praises from friends and friends of friends not only that the film was worthwhile but also that it was much less scary than advertised to the point of often being funny. Evil Dead, Army of Darkness, Spiderman 3...funny was definitely a possibility and a great alternative to me being horrified all night.

3) Acting chops. Alison Lohman has been hailed as a great actress since her big breakthrough performance in White Oleander and Justin Long is one of Hollywood's newest and most talented leading men. I figured the pair probably weren't about to make a flop, especially on their first try at a horror flick.

4) Hutzpah. I'd become profoundly brave when it comes to scary movies. Lie. Wrong. No.

The movie was not bad. I'll start by saying that since I am kind of thinking my way through this post the general critique may sound as if I didn't enjoy it, but I think all-in-all I did. Perhaps it's because I genuinely feel as though I got what I paid for (take that however you want) or maybe it is because the 7 obese black women next to me, literally, were the most entertaining, cliche, fun group of movie-goers I have ever seen. My section of the tenth row and two men in the eleventh became a little community and I was truly glad about the commentary being provided by all involved.

That, however, was almost the only thing that gave credence to the 'this movie is funny' claim, for me. It is the only reason I made it through the majority without dying of fear. That, and the small bits of negative space created by my cross-hatched fingers that I watched nearly the whole thing through. But, for those who did not listen to Queen Latifah scream, "Hell no! That bitch crazy! Lock the damn door! Don't go in there! Dang, you stupid! Girl, you better not!" the whole time, you have no right to hoodwink easily frightened human beings like me into thinking they are well suited for this movie! On that note, I don't know how to rate it on the fear scale because I'm such a horrible baby and was truely terrified throughout so I thought it was very successful whereas many might not find it as scary.

The intro was straight to the point and set the tone of the rest of the film which I didn't mind, I almost appreciated the heads-up. Then came the opening credits. Ugh. As a general rule I do not like opening credits. I find them painful and long and better suited for the end, and by that I mean I want the scrolling credits--with outtakes is a plus (Rush Hour 2)--not the extended Microsoft Powerpoint effects version. That being said, when opening credits are good they are very good. These were not very good. They were very bad. The music was way too loud even for theatres and it was just the most melodramatic crap I'd ever seen. Is this what some found funny? No, for me it was just irritating. I didn't like the scrolling, self-appearing, fake gothica book art. I did however like the abrupt and over-fontisized title. Classic Sam Raimi, nice. Credits over, right back into the story. Yay!

Again, not a lot of waiting around or unnecessary setup. Making up for all of the useless credit time. Once the story presents its first scare they just do not quit it. It was like every five minutes they needed something to give me a heart attack. Well done, I nearly died. The yells and screams of my neighbors were my saving grace, as well as the comfort I find in nervous laughter. My co-worker and accompaniment for the evening, Joe, challenged me that this loud gasp, cringe, curse and spell of guffawing everytime something scary (even if I was the only one who thought so) happened was me legitimately being amused. My after-movie confusion over why someone had tricked me into assuming comedy would be provided was accused of being a cover-up. No, I did not lie, that is just how I handle certain situations. First bikini wax: no yelling, no crying, just literally laughing hysterically and yelling obsenities with every damn strip pulled. I digress.

Constant surprises or thrills or whatever you want to call them. You know those tense moments in horror films where the music gets really serious and starts to build up because something is about to pop out or some type of scare will ensue but then it just ends up being an open window or the dog or some comforting alternative? Nope. None of that. They went for it every time, which I suppose is a good thing, and again, I certainly got my money's worth as far as quantity, but I was struggling through the sheer bulk. I require recovery time.

The other thing that I feel retrospectively irksome about is that I thought there wasn't a great deal of variety with what was scaring you. Scary old woman dream, scary shadow demons, something gross coming out of someone's mouth--waaaaaaay more of that than I wanted to see--and into someone else's face. Definitely a higher frequency of gross-out scares than I typically *Eli* enjoy. However, though they may have lacked in originality that didn't keep them from scaring me shitless every time. 

About three quarters into the movie I began to see the "funny" aspects, some parts began to get a little campy but that might have to be expected from the man who attached a chainsaw to Bruce Campbell's arm and turned him into a zombie-killing machine. This made the experience easier to handle for me so I won't fault it. I guessed the ending about 20 minutes before it came so no real surprise but the members of En Vogue next to me found the twist shocking, thus I will give it the thumbs up. The abrupt end is something that left me feeling very WTF at the time but thinking back on it I don't think I would've enjoyed any other conclusion played out in any other way. 

Final opinion, well done. You did what you set out to do. It was well acted, definitely sufficiently scary, and for the most part a more successful horror film than is usually available. I'm still sitting on the fence, it might require me to revisit the film so I can decide what I actually think but for now: solid B+

*Sam, I will not take the shot of vodka you are pouring for me right now. Shut up and go watch About A Boy.

*I took it.