Review of 31 (2016) by Ds U — 24 Sep 2016

Let me get this out of the way for those who want the micro version: Despite some first act issues, I really enjoyed 31. Is it the best thing ever? No. Is it a good horror film? Yes, I think it is.

Now, on to the review.

The past several films from Rob Zombie have been bad movies with flashes of brilliance in them. 31 has more of the flashes of brilliance and a lot less of the bad stuff. His characters are still typically crude oddballs, but he tones down the white trash angle considerably. Zombie seems more assured here than he has in a long time and if it all feels familiar, that isn't a bad thing because he does this sort of depraved, blunt force trauma horror better than anyone.

The film has a straight forward set up: Circa 1976, a group of travelers are abducted and forced to participate in a game called 31. The game takes place on Halloween night and serves as an annual wager between members of a strange cult who dress like 18th Century European aristocrats.

The abductees are informed they must stay alive for twelve hours to win the game and go free. Preying on them are a series of psychotic killers dressed in bizarre clown attire: Nazi dwarf Sick Head, psycho hillbilly chainsaw wielding brothers Psycho Head (a scene stealing Lew Temple) and Schizo Head and so on.

The scenes when the game first begins are where I had the most trouble. This is where Sick Head appears and aside from the initial "what the fuck?" impact of seeing a lunatic dwarf dressed as a parody of Hitler, he isn't a particularly compelling character. His sequence goes on too long and although it's peppered by a few terrific moments (including a scene inside of a dilapidated restroom where Zombie unexpectedly and successfully channels the spirit of John Carpenter's films), it should have been edited down.

That being addressed , there are a few areas where 31 outpaces its contemporaries and impacts as Rob Zombie's best film since the excellent The Devil's Rejects.

One is that , like that film, 31 stays true to the premise and doesn't wrap up in a way which betrays the narrative. The tense final moments of 31 are as inevitable as the bloody ending to The Devil's Rejects, only here the coda is far less conclusive and markedly more sinister in its implications.

The other is that Zombie really does a surprisingly effective job of establishing the core group of protagonists as people who have traveled together for a long time and who, like any family ( be they blood or discovered) , love one another even when they don't necessarily like one another. As some of the captive troupe meet their grisly ends, there is a genuine sense the others are devastated. It's a human quality which not only ups the stakes, but allows for more legitimate suspense than you usually find in the director's filmography.

But the real key to the success of the story is the introduction of a character whose name I am certain is destined to be uttered reverently by horror fans in the years to come , the terrifying, captivating psychopath Doom Head.

Portrayed by the talented Richard Brake, Doom Head is a tight combination of savage cunning, explosive rage and vicious wit. He is the standout creation here, the next horror icon. Zombie knows it too, opening the film with a bravura sequence shot in gorgeous black and white wherein the character introduces himself to the audience, delivering an absolutely captivating monologue to an out of frame victim by way of addressing the camera. It's a brilliant way to start the film, hooking the audience from the opening frames.

Some savvy direction, an instantly iconic new villain in Richard Brake's Doom Head and an effectively bizarre cult sensibility balance against a first act spent lingering too long on the least interesting of the killers hunting the human prey in the titular game. 31 isn't perfect, but it still delivers a solid splash of gory, twisted fun, representing a long awaited return to form for Rob Zombie. It may tread ground the filmmaker has walked before, but it does so very well.