Ladies & germs, freaks & geeks, I just applauded a film in my own damn living room. Sat in broad daylight, on my own, in my boxers, drinking a 3 hour old coffee, I applauded my own TV. And am I ashamed? Am I fuck.
I watch a lot of cinematic tap water, those 89 minute dirges that simply struggle to be adequate, limping along on limbs Frankensteined from their predecessors and selling it as ‘homage’. To list them here would be redundant, time consuming & detract from the more important review matter at hand, but you get what I’m referring to. For a movie to faithfully & entertainingly pay homage to the trashy VHS era of slashers is a hard enough nail head to hit [case and point, the well meaning but frankly dire GUTTERBALLS & MADISON COUNTY]. But to capture that spirit and elevate it beyond simple homage into something clever & fresh for a modern audience tired of simple recycling, that is more akin to hitting the head of a sewing needle. Thankfully, along with a *couple* of wayward blows, I DIDN’T COME HERE TO DIE strikes just that needle head.
The setup is been-there-done-that-got-the-t-shirt: a group of 20-something’s venture into the “Hey, this is pretty isolated” woods to “work on team building & volunteer work”- by which they mean booze & boobs- only to for things to go TERRIBLY TERRIBLY WRONG [Mwahahaha]. The film starts out just like this, and even more so just like every other of those aforementioned ‘homage’ pieces- complete with egregiously over the top film burn effects. We get it, you’re Grindhouse. I’ll even go as far as to admit this opening had me on shaky grounds, reaching for my iPhone & tweeting the following:
… Boy was I glad I stuck with it. Because when this kid breaks away from the pack, dear god does it do so with gusto. Just as I’m not afraid to admit I clapped at during its credit roll, I’ll also gladly admit this film- in its tear-away-from-the-pack moment, made me actually. physically. gasp. And that’s even more of a rarity than applause. To give away what that moment is would be severely detriment to the film, so for once I’ll steer away from spoilers. But know that this wasn’t even the half of it, the film is positively loaded with gasp moments. Going as far as to say that *every* kill/attack is ingeniously memorably, very we’ll executed and – especially in the pinnacle of this where a slippery incident with a chainsaw turns even more nasty that it sounds- gut bustingly entertaining.
From the shit hitting the fan to the credits rolling the film moves faster than a knife fight in a phone booth, and that’s both credit to some handily slick editing & a script that really knows how to right-hook the audience just when they think they’ve got their footing. That’s the real facet of fun here: while I DIDN’T COME HERE TO DIE does pay homage to its predecessors, it also transgresses their tropes & uses the genre savvy audience’s pre-expectations to its advantage- leaving you swapping between picking your jaw off the floor & giggling like a child at Christmas.
[SPOILER ALERT KLAXON]
For example, in a showdown between a malodorous jock and the sole remaining female who has to this point been set up as our final girl, the genre trope tells you who the winner of this showdown will be. So when a blunt boulder comes crashing to our final girls skull in a turn of surprisingly verite violence, it’s sold all the more shocking since it goes against what 30 years of horror copycats have taught us.
[END OF SPOILERS]
Both said slick editing & dandy writing can be attributed to Bradley Scott Sullivan, who also jumps in the cinematography & directing chair here- his first time doing any of these for a feature- and as such, this really is Sullivan’s feature. Sure the actors do a swell job and David Templin’s practical effects are gaudily gruesome, but Sullivan is the man of the hour here. And frankly, with this debut he’s embossed his name into most genre producers’ watch-list.
You’ll have to excuse my garrulous praise, but when you’ve seen so much ‘tap-water horror’ a surprise as impetuous as this, it’s really worth singing about. Sure, it’s far from perfect- the ‘retro’ colour grading is a little heavy handing & the sound mix often leaves much to be desired- but that’s not the point here. The name of the game here isn’t nuance or subtlety, it’s made for the same reasons Jackson made BAD TASTE. And it’s results are much the same: pure blood drenched fun. And in fact, I DIDN’T COME HERE TO DIE may just be the most fun I’ve had with a movie (festival environment aside, drunk friend trash marathons aside etc) in a damn long time. This is campy fun horror at its purest & most heartfelt. I DIDN’T COME HERE TO DIE deserved my applause, and it deserves yours too.
And that’s my two cents.
8 necklace-magic-tricks / 10 unfortunately-placed-branches
MyTwoCentsFilm 