Nothing Left to Fear (2013) d. Anthony Leonardi III (USA)

When a new pastor (James Tupper) arrives with his wife (Anne Heche) andfamily at the dust blown borders of Stull, Kansas to head up the local congregation, he finds himself unwittingly caught up in a mysterious Wicker Man-type conspiracy with specific designs for his two daughters, Rebecca (Rebekah Brandes) and Mary (Jennifer Stone) Unfortunately, despite screenwriter Jonathan W.C. Mills’ attempts to do something different with the “insiders/outsiders” tropes, the enterprise is submarined by director Anthony Leonardi III’s misdirection of his ensemble and misguided overuse of humdrum swirling black CGI tendrils.

On the behind-the-scenes segment of Anchor Bay’s recent DVD/Blu-ray combo, there is a universal chorus of approval for Mills’ script, so it’s sad that whatever was so magical on the page is lost in translation. For starters, the performances range from blah to bland and back to blah. Heche headlines, though she’s given nothing to do except good naturedly smile, smirk and smart aleck as Christian Suzy Homemaker.

Similarly, Tupper is so vanilla he ought to come with his own wafer cone. Brandes and Stone as our two sisters are spunky and spirited enough, but they are thinly drawn and soon become nothing more than cogs in the wheel. Veteran Clancy Brown brings his trademark gravitas to the mix as Stull’s retiring minister, but it’s all too apparent all too soon that his intentions are far from godly. But the worst offender is Ethan Peck, whose leaden dull line deliveries nearly put me to sleep every time he opened his well chiseled jaw.

This is a case where the bells and whistles destroy the decent campfire tale at the core. Oddly enough, Stone chatters on about how much she enjoyed the fact that f/x house Spectral Motion would be employing practical effects, but the swirling clouds of CGI tarn and “sweetened” menace surrounding her supplant the tactile impact. Leonardi clearly doesn’t understand what makes horror work, only how to play at it.

Boo scares, odd looks and jump cuts abound, but these mechanical by-the-numbers tactics result in nothing more than an efficient but forgettable made-for-cable movie, as blandly nondescript as its snoozy title. For the record, the unmemorable score is by Nicholas O’Toole and Guns n’ Roses’ Slash, who also co-produced.

Nothing Left to Fear is available now for purchase from Anchor Bay Entertainment.

I Spit on Your Grave 2 (2013) d. Monroe, Steven R. (USA)

I was a relatively inexperienced exploitation viewer when I first encountered the original 1978 I Spit on Your Grave. As a result, I couldn’t feel the full impact of the beast since the shoddy camerawork, lackluster performances, and middling makeup effects kept me at a distance. I understood that this was a terrible situation that our main character Jennifer Hills (Camille Keaton) was in, but the execution of the story itself couldn’t get past the filter of my Hollywood-honed sensibilities. Later, as I consumed more alternative and rough-edged efforts, I revisited the film and was not only more affected, but more impressed by what writer/director Meir Zarchi had been able to capture. Like the child who shies away from the bitterness of coffee yet later grows to appreciate a double expresso, my tastes have either sharpened or dulled (depending on your opinion) to see past the flaws wrought by meager funds and limited experience. I now see I Spit on Your Grave (aka Day of the Woman) as a vital piece of exploitation cinema, a brave, fearless and underrated examination of the reality of rape and the fantasy of revenge.

As with nearly every significant genre title of the 70s and 80s, ISOYG was eventually fitted for the inevitable remake slot in 2010. Expectations could not have been lower, knowing that they couldn’t possibly go “there” in the way that the 1978 original had, and this would either be a watered down version or it would wallow in the unpleasantness of the act a la Irreversible (a brilliant film, but no need for a repeat visit to that well). However, much to my surprise, director Steven R. Monroe and screenwriter Stuart Morse managed to ably straddle the line, pulling off a well-acted, skillfully shot thriller that didn’t pull any punches but also didn’t keep slugging after viewers had gone numb.

There were a few quibbles, such as Morse’s inexplicable decision to make a “mystery” of who was exacting the revenge killings of the rapists, distancing us from Jennifer (now played by Sarah Butler) in so doing, and the extravagance of her Saw-like torture devices that – while appropriately nasty – almost took us out of the film as we thought, “How’d she rig that thing up?” For the most part, though, I was mightily impressed and earmarked Monroe as a director to watch, since it was clear from his C.V. that he was a red-blooded horror guy working his way up the ranks.

This brings us up to speed for my recent viewing of I Spit on Your Grave 2. Expectations were dialed in: I knew this would be another rape/revenge film (by now, I’ve seen a few). I knew that Monroe, also helming the sequel, could deliver the goods with restraint. I knew that the lead, Jemma Dallender, was an actress of substance, having seen her work earlier this year in the bizarre UK hoodie-horror flick, Community. I also knew that the film was already amassing a huge amount of hate and invective for even existing, that “rape is not entertainment.” I hadn’t remembered such an uproar the first time around, except that the Hollywood suits were once again desecrating another “classic,” but it did strike me as odd that they would be either continuing the story or that they would do another rape/revenge scenario under the guise of a sequel.

After the first 15 minutes, I started to understand the cause for all the cybernoise. ISOYG2 is an insulting film, to women, to men, and to moviegoers with half a brain. I don’t know who this picture was made for (and it apparently has a few fans already), but I’m decidedly not among them. Even at the most prurient level, this isn’t entertainment. It’s too stupid, too squalid, too sadistic and too ridiculous to even masquerade as a cautionary tale. It’s filled with such unbelievable and unpleasant characters – including the victim herself – such that we connect to no one. Yes, we see our unfortunate aspiring model Katie (Dallender) invaded and tortured and raped, but she’s a plot device rather than a human being. Yes, we see ugly thuggish brutes receiving comeuppance for their transgressions, but it’s all without substance. Yes, as a horror fan, I expect to be delivered the nasty goods, but with a subject as real and topical as rape, I expect it to be handled with more intelligence and sensitivity than a simple decapitation or Achilles tendon slice.

I could detail the various off-putting logistical elements (this wafer-thin waif is supposed to be a Missouri farm girl, the Eurothug rapists are straight out of Central Casting, the character posing as Katie’s advocate is clearly in on the scheme, Katie’s revenge schemes are shockingly improbably considering her surroundings – where is she getting the equipment, drugs, etc.) that Monroe and screenwriters Thomas Fenton and Neil Elman employ, but I’ve already wasted more time than the film deserves. The sexual torture sequences are in the worst possible taste, only topped by Katie’s transformation into a one-liner spouting harpy doling out perfunctory acts of vengeance. There is one nice story twist/reveal about 30 minutes in that I appreciated, one that I’ll preserve (even though many of my peers have already revealed it in their reviews) as it’s about the only redeeming feature of the 106-minute ordeal. Let’s hope someone appropriates it for a more deserving film someday.

The Anchor Bay DVD/Blu-Ray combo pack doesn’t bring much to the table in the way of extras, with only a few deleted scenes provided for supplementary materials. And whoever designed that “girl power” cover art deserves a swift kick in the cookies. Blech.

I Spit on Your Grave is available now for purchase from Anchor Bay Entertainment.

Lords of Salem, The (2012) (2nd viewing) d. Zombie, Rob (USA)

Rob Zombie’s sixth feature generated a strong outburst of mixed emotions during its highly anticipated midnight screening at SXSW earlier this year, which I dutifully chronicled HERE. I admired the man for so wholeheartedly embracing his own artistic ideals, but bemoaned that we were subjected to a movie that jangled pell mell down the narrative hill, crumbling and dissipating in dramatic power as it went. In spite of my frustrations, I was eager to revisit the film – something I have yet to cajole myself into doing with his Halloween reboots – to see if it yielded more sustenance with expectations allayed (and a few more hours of sleep under one’s belt).

The answer is yes; Lords is unquestionably a better experience the second time around, especially when listening to the director’s commentary, even if it never quite makes it into the “wholly satisfying” column. There’s a lot to like, a lot to admire, but there’s also a lot left to be desired. (I’m a poet, don’t ya know it.)

Where the live-wire performances provided much of the juice for his Family Firefly outings, Zombie’s greatest strength here is his instinctive visual approach to the material. On paper, the plot is staggeringly simple: DJ Heidi Hawthorne (Sherri Moon Zombie) plays a mysterious record and falls under spell of revived centuries-old witch Margaret Morgan (Meg Foster) who wants to birth the spawn of Satan through this comely modern day vessel. Seriously, that’s not just a thumbnail – that’s the whole plot.

There are (very) minor subplots about Bruce Davison’s historian, Heidi’s relationship with her co-worker (Jeff Daniel Philips) or her struggles with addiction, but mostly it’s about watching our heroine sink further and further into a Hell-stewed stupor, which is about as interesting as it sounds in spite of the writer/director’s fevered improvisational nightmare set-pieces. There’s no denying these are impressive, all the more so when one learns how little time and money were available, but they do not add up to a cohesive whole. It’s lazy to say that they could be rejected visuals from one of Zombie’s music videos, but there are times when that’s exactly how it feels.

If at any time one felt that Heidi could somehow overcome her literal and figurative demons, or if we believed that one of the “good guys” looking to provide aid had the slightest chance in actually doing some good, it would go a long way toward alleviating the dirge-like tone. But this is not the universe in which Zombie operates. His villains are the heroes; Evil will always win out until it is done in by a greater Evil. It would be interesting to hear the director speak to this pervading philosophy of pessimism, but as he is the sole voice on the audio commentary, he instead focuses on the trials of the shoot – most of which involve working around the untimely death of actor Richard Lynch partway through shooting.

Again, one cannot help but admire the moxie and resourcefulness displayed as Zombie talks about repurposing scenes or shooting against a single furnished wall while the crew was frantically tearing down the set around him outside the frame. The finished film looks fantastic, a major achievement under any circumstances but especially so with the knowledge of the miniscule time and funds and resources.

Zombie’s audio track only further stokes my impassioned ambivalence about the man and his art. The notion of a brave creative soul surviving with his integrity intact within the Hollywood machine is an inspiring one, especially for genre fans. I desperately want to like his films, but his different-drummer march seems decidedly out of step with my own. But it’s not that he doesn’t know what he’s doing – he clearly and unapologetically does. Should I condemn him for refusing to conform to established patterns?

I applaud the artist and sporadically enjoy his output, but as with the five features that have gone before, there’s no saying whether Lords is a “good” or a “bad” film – it’s purely “A Rob Zombie Film” and one like no other that has gone before. Personally, I find it a movie that I admire without enjoying, applaud without smiling, experience without feeling. Be curious to hear what you think.

The Lords of Salem premieres on DVD/BR on September 3 from Anchor Bay Entertainment. Pre-orders can be placed HERE.

--Aaron Christensen, HorrorHound Magazine