Review of Near Dark (1987) by Gg J — 12 Nov 2008

?Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? is a conflicted film in my book; I both love it as great cinema fun and think it a corny piece of late 1960s fluff. At the tail end of my own Paul Newman marathon a few weeks ago, helped along with a pending new job and a bit of rum, I fell on the first side. I loved it. Mostly. In case you?re not familiar with this classic tweaking of the western genre, here goes: The Hole in the Wall Gang, led by Butch (Paul Newman) and The Sundance Kid (Robert Redford), robs one too many trains and is pursued by a never-seen gang of lawmen. In their bid to stay alive and re-start their career criminal ways, Butch and Sundance, along with the latter?s lover (Katherine Ross of ?The Graduate?), head to Bolivia. Mixing standout comedy, good action and some mild suspense, ?BCATSK? jump-started the Hollywood buddy flick, and tosses in musical numbers sung by Burt Bacharach for good measure. The film is never better when it?s focused on the pursuit of our heroes, with both Newman and Redford not only out foxing the chasers, but also out-smart assing each other with witty and riotous dialogue. When Butch and Sundance jump off a cliff into a raging river below to escape their captors, it?s one of film?s greatest stunts played off as a quick laugh. The build up to that jump (?What do you mean you can?t swim?!??) is better than any of the ?Rush Hour? or ?Lethal Weapon? films combined. There?s never been a screen duo as cool as Newman and Redford, and there never will be. The very last shot ? a still ? also is classic. I still cringe heavily, though, at those musical montages; some love the ?Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head? bit and the endless traveling to South America hum-a-long. I just consider fast-forwarding on the remote. Wicked evil? Communist? Maybe. These montages lay dust on a film that otherwise would be as timeless as any story of two winking, smart-ass bandits running from the law.

?Halloween? is one just one cool flick, buoyed by director-writer John Carpenter?s classic score (it rivals ?Jaw? in both simplicity and sheer mind-blowing coolness), Jamie Lee Curtis as a screaming teen and a silent unstoppable killer in a white Captain Kirk mask. The film opens with young Michael Myers slashing his freshly sexed and naked teen sister to death with a kitchen knife. The boy is incarcerated until we rocket ahead 15 years to 1978 as the grown Myers escapes from the mental ward and returns to his hometown. Michael?s psychiatrist (Donald Pleasence, never better at combining indignant helplessness and then rage) says his charge has the devil in him, and he ain?t lying. Myers, always moving quickly like a demonic robot and with never a wasted gesture, says only one word the whole film. Yet he owns it. It sure beats the villains of most horror genre films who can?t shut up, ala ?Saw.? Who cares if Curtis is certainly no teen, Carpenter?s film is quick, suspenseful and takes dead aim at America?s ?safe and precious? suburban dream. Is it an accident that the opening title says ?1963?? It?s the year America woke up.

?Freddy Vs. Jason? is more of a jokey film geek set-up of two classic horror film characters meeting face-to-face then a horror film itself. Getting into plot details of this 2003 release is almost pointless, but it?s sufficient to say that powerless, kill-hungry Freddy Krueger (Robert Englund) uses some unexplained hellish magic to awaken the dead Jason Voorhees (stuntman Ken Kirzinger) and have ol? Hockey Mask going on a killing spree for him. Soon, wicked scared teenagers have nightmares and then awaken Krueger. Or whatever. The main event is Freddy fighting Jason, right? So, it?s a huge let down that the monsters? first bust-up is a badly choreographed and shot fumble set in a nondescript dream world factory. Only at the end, the film come alive as our two anti-heroes fight to the life at Camp Crystal Lake. Much of the film feels padded by a hundred copied scenes from the myriad of ?Nightmare on Elm Street? and ?Friday the 13th? films. Character histories are scrambled, too. And let?s point out, finally, that Freddy Krueger has never made sense. As a man, he killed young children, and now as a demon, he covets them, but only chases and kills teenagers. Of course, going into these films with logic in mind is akin to eating healthy at Sonic. It can?t happen.

?Near Dark? is a coolly twisted, mid-1980s Western spinon vampire horror films, but with more blood and guts then a dozen Dracula films. And only a trace of the budget, too. A young rancher (Adrian Pasdar, now of ?Heroes?) meets cute at night with a young woman (Jenny Wright) in a small Midwest town. They flirt, drive around, kiss and then she bites him. And the cowboy goes loony ? sucking blood and burning in the sunlight. He joins the woman?s makeshift family of vampires (Lance Henriksen and Bill Paxton, among them), driving across rural America and picking off victims for late night dinner. Except our hero won?t kill. This movie is a blast, and ignores the fangs, flying stunts and turning bats of most genre films and books. Heck, the word ?vampire? is never mentioned. Director Kathryn Bigelow (?Point Break?) lays the blood on thick, and it?s sick ghoulish fun. Paxton is the standout in the film, clearly having a gleeful, devilish good time as the meanest of the blood-suckers. He?s never seemed more alive as a dead guy. The only negative: The ending of this otherwise great horror film is too aw-shucks happy for its own good. That?s one gene rule that should have been kept. An added note: Check out how many actors here worked in ?Aliens,? which gets a quick reference early in the film. That Bigelow isn?t making any more films is more proof of Hollywood?s strapped down conservatism where women, blacks and gays face extra scrutiny for ever misstep.

?The Station Agent? (2003) is a brief, sweet film about a handful of lonely Americans finding themselves and then each other thanks to friendship, a few beers and the hobby of train watching. As the film opens, Finbar McBride (Peter Dinklage) works at a toy train collector?s shop in a rural speck of an Americana town. The store owner (Paul Benjamin) seems to be Finbar?s only friend, until the old man drops dead on the store?s old wood floor. From the late owner?s lawyer, Finbar learns the store is to be closed and that the old man has willed him a train station in rural New Jersey. With nothing else to his meager life, Finbar takes the train station and is content with it ? like the town he previously lived in, the depot is remote and offers little if any human contact. If only. A free-talking Italian (Bobby Cannavale) runs a food/coffee truck only yards from the depot, a blond woman with a penchant for reckless driving (Patricia Clarkson) keeps dropping by, and a local teen girl (Raven Goodwin) and a 20-something librarian (Michelle Williams) also constantly cross paths with Finbar. The film is sometimes too obvious (see, Finbar really is watching his life go by whilst watching those trains go by), but the actors and the simple, honest dialogue make the film work. It?s a sweet character study, all the more enjoyable because Dinklage is a dwarf, but except for a few plainers (that?s Jersey for redneck) and other minor scenes, that fact never is used to define Finbar as a man. He?s short, and it?s no more ?special? than Cannavale being tall. Dinklage, by the way, is brilliant ? again. Check him out in the wonderful ?Death at a Funeral? as a gay man. Gut-busting funny stuff. One more plus here: The film ends with loose ends untied, and problems unsolved. We know these characters have lives after the credits roll. Sweet.