(2003)
Dir - Glen Morgan
Overall: MEH
Remaking a lousy movie sounds like a good idea on paper since there is at least a chance that it can be done better, and in most respects, the 2003 reinterpretation of Willard is more agreeable than its oddball predecessor. This is not to say that writer/director Glen Morgan's loose take on Stephen Gilbert's 1968 novel Ratman's Notebooks does not carve out its own brand of quirkiness, since any story about a neurotic Norman Bates type who talks to, befriends, controls, and ultimately runs afoul with a barrage of rodents must inherently play up its eccentricities. On that note, Crispin Glover rises to the occasion in a role that he was born to play, giving the title character the type of crippling awkwardness that warrants his free fall into madness. He is never intimidating or even that funny, but he is always pathetic and sad, plus Glover's tearful aloofness manages to get the audience on his side. R. Lee Ermy is also ideally cast as the Ernest Borgnine odious boss from the original, but Laura Elena Harring's would-be love interest is wasted in an underwritten and ultimately useless role. Elsewhere, the rats behave arbitrarily and sometimes they are rendered with unconvincing CGI, but these are minor grievances since the focus is rightfully on its doomed protagonist who is so pitiful, isolated, and lacking in confidence that he finds his only solace in creatures that everyone else instinctively attacks and "eeeks" at. The movie is hardly necessary and has nothing in the way of clever or suspenseful set pieces, but Glover and Ermy still manage to nail the assignment.
Dir - Christiane Cegavske
Overall: GOOD
Thirteen years in the making, Blood Tea and Red String emerged from stop-motion filmmaker Christiane Cegavske as a beautifully-realized fairy tale that examines humanity's inherently self-defeating nature via woodland critter. Void of dialog, it pits the Creatures Who Dwell Under the Oak, (a combination of rodent and bird), against aristocratic mice and a spider with a humanoid face, all of whom seem compulsively drawn to a life-sized doll and resort to desperate measure in order to obtain it. While certain parties are portrayed as more benevolent than others, they each forgo composure and moral duty in order to bogart their object of affection, which ultimately leaves all of them void of the prize. Cegayske fills the simple fable with wonderful details, and the entire setting breathes persistent motion and life, helped by an ambient sound design as well as Mark Growden Renaissance-era music. Much can be read into the story itself since the lack of words welcomes the viewer to interpret everything at their leisure, but the surreal journey remains fascinating, occasionally brutal, and lovingly portrayed by Cegayske as a testament to retro stop-motion animation and fantasy storytelling.
Overall: GOOD
Thirteen years in the making, Blood Tea and Red String emerged from stop-motion filmmaker Christiane Cegavske as a beautifully-realized fairy tale that examines humanity's inherently self-defeating nature via woodland critter. Void of dialog, it pits the Creatures Who Dwell Under the Oak, (a combination of rodent and bird), against aristocratic mice and a spider with a humanoid face, all of whom seem compulsively drawn to a life-sized doll and resort to desperate measure in order to obtain it. While certain parties are portrayed as more benevolent than others, they each forgo composure and moral duty in order to bogart their object of affection, which ultimately leaves all of them void of the prize. Cegayske fills the simple fable with wonderful details, and the entire setting breathes persistent motion and life, helped by an ambient sound design as well as Mark Growden Renaissance-era music. Much can be read into the story itself since the lack of words welcomes the viewer to interpret everything at their leisure, but the surreal journey remains fascinating, occasionally brutal, and lovingly portrayed by Cegayske as a testament to retro stop-motion animation and fantasy storytelling.
(2009)
Dir - Joe Dante
Overall: MEH
Arriving a month before his interactive webseries Splatter and three years after his second Masters of Horror installment, Joe Dante returns to full-length horror with The Hole, doubling as his first 3D feature. On paper at least, it is nice to see Dante back behind the lens, indulging himself in the genre that made him famous and bringing Bruce Dern along with him in a minor part, as well as an nonspeaking Dick Miller in an even more minor part. The novelty of such familiar genre icons being back in the game wears off quickly though since the production here is anything but impressive. Sticking to the cheap, TV aesthetic of his aforementioned Masters of Horror episodes, the film looks like a CW program with its attractive cast, cookie-cutter/small town setting, and a jaunty musical score that jives adorably with Dante's usual penchant for lighthearted comedic quips and grisly set pieces. While this is tonally in keeping with the director's long-established shtick, the presentation is watered-down and generic, lacking the laugh-out-loud humor and innovative horror aspects of his best efforts. Instead, it is just cutesy, dull, and hackneyed, with a story about a hole in a suburban house that unlocks peoples fears and ergo gives way to a creepy killer doll, a little girl with zombie make-up on, and a final set piece that looks like a D-rent variation of Dante's "It's a Good Life" segment from Twilight Zone: The Movie.
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