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Original vs remake Reviews

Original VS Remake – Black Christmas (1974) vs. (2006)

The consumption of festive horror has rapidly increased over the years, with every season bringing about a brand new handful of not-so-jolly frights. And whilst many of these entries make for a perfect movie night next to a decorated tree, no other holiday horror has captured the same level of utter dread and catastrophe as Bob Clark’s Black Christmas (1974). The film chronicles the fear of a group of sorority sisters after they receive obscene phone calls from a strange man over the landline. Despite their flustered response, they soon shake the calls off. That is until a series of strange disappearances unveil the dark nature of the mysterious assailant. 

Wading through the film’s expansive depths is the overarching ambiguous nature that employs the whodunit storytelling arc, along with a personalised and closed narrative that creates a strange composition of being both vague to deter predictability, with a dose of emotional intimacy to forge a bond to the protagonists. As unbalanced as this may seem, Clark wholeheartedly knows how to juggle juxtaposed themes to create a distinctive result. The phone calls act as an instigator for terror to ensue, and like a ticking time bomb, the more phone calls received, the more vulgar and abhorrent they become. In fact, the profanities uttered are said in such a gravelly and inhumane tone that it almost creates the assumption that surely the caller cannot be a real person.

 Making the viciousness all the more threatening is the aforementioned personable quality. The viewer has a string of characters to follow, particularly the feisty Barb (Margot Kidder), who you cannot help but be drawn to (despite the lude humour), and then Jess (Olivia Hussey), the ‘girl next door’ who is fighting a losing battle with her forceful boyfriend, Peter (Keir Dullea). 

This nuanced duplicity of Black Christmas managing to be subtle but extreme, and quiet but loud is a strong component in its successful makeup and gives credence to the film’s ability to conjure a multidimensional response. The proclivity to forecast such tonality is always a goal for filmmakers, yet it is a rather difficult aspect to achieve, making Black Christmas an achievement in all reigns. 

The hedonistic gravitas that pushes the horror to the forefront is at heart connected to the laborious production where Clark meticulously worked to achieve a multifaceted study. Screenwriter Roy Moore developed the script with urban legends in mind, particularly the story surrounding a babysitter who receives repeated calls asking her to check the children. Quite eerie indeed. After a remodelling by producers where the background was changed to a university setting, the script made its way to Clark. However, he believed it to be too typical and added his own flare, including a touch of dark comedy, alterations to the dialogue, and a sense of prudence and capability to the sorority sisters. The zeitgeist of the time flourished in painting college students as being devoid of common sense, and with Clark wanting to create a piece that was more than gore-bait, he gave the final girl, Jess, a strong sensibility with difficult issues at hand. 

With the formidable tension, thoroughly explored dispositions, and tenacious ploy of dread the original Black Christmas is a nirvana of yuletide terror and festive alarm. What comes with this status is an inevitable track record for a lasting legacy…and remakes. 

There is no hate intended towards remakes, in fact, they can be just as, if not better than the original. When it comes to Black Christmas it can be difficult to hold it up next to such a classic. It has its strengths and a few weaknesses, but it does come from a well-intended place. Director Glen Morgan caught the attention of Dimension Films, who wanted to collaborate in recreating Clark’s 1970s hit. For Morgan, the aim from the very beginning was to recognise the significance of the original and not simply retell the already cemented work, but to re-flourish elements that stood out within a modern infrastructure. This is the primary thesis that allows Black Christmas (2006) to be a fan favourite and cult classic for many today. It understands its limitations of being a remake, yet it stands tall and works within its boundaries. 

The consequence of these developments included a deeper dive into the killer at the end of the phone line, and what made him a monster. Comparisons between Rob Zombie’s Halloween (2007) and Morgan’s insistent fleshing out of the backstory have been rightfully made. It could be said that the film’s main backbone is compiled by a complex backstory that has all the ingredients to create an analogical and somewhat more frightful result. However, from a critical perspective, this is the film’s primary undoing. 

In the original, the killer (now known as Billy) was not given an identity, let alone a history. The most information obtained comes from Billy’s dialogue, suggesting some sort of forbidden bond between himself and an unknown person simply referred to as Agnes. As with any popular film, over time audiences created their own folklore for characters and their possible backgrounds. The apex of Billy’s personality revolves around the perverse nature of his actions, with his dialogue and murders divulging gritty content. Morgan dives straight into the fables of Billy’s background and elaborates on who this ‘Agnes’ is and why Billy is a monster in the first place. 

The remake establishes (in heavy flashback-based detail) that Billy’s (Robert Mann) mother, Constance (Karin Konoval), kills his father on Christmas Eve, burying the corpse in the house’s crawl space. After years pass Billy’s abuse worsens as Constance rapes him, resulting in an interbred child named Agnes (Dean Friss) and Billy later killing his mother, as well as disfiguring Agnes with a Christmas tree topper. 

The rather dicey background is honestly quite out there for a widely released piece of cinema. Morgan’s plump retelling is impressive and makes for a ghastly and entertaining watch. Yet, the chance of suspense is completely lost amidst the packed surroundings. The original kept every little morsel of information tightly wrapped up for the entire film, even the ending is a double edged sword with the killer not being caught. There was no mask donned by Billy to create a spectacle, the absence of his presence felt in the kill scenes (with a focus on pov instead) tied in with his impenetrable demeanour, and most importantly the lack of answers made him even less human, and more beastly. 

Clark’s Billy was an unstoppable force who the audience couldn’t pinpoint why he is such a sadistic person. It opened the opportunity for our minds to go absolutely berserk in working out the mystery. We were forced to project our own fears and anxieties onto Billy, making him everyone’s tailored nightmare. Whilst Morgan’s bravery is commendable and works as a standalone feat, the cruelty of Clark’s omnipotent villain is sorely missed when comparing the two films. 

The remake is not solely steeped in pessimism, alternatively, there are many fantastic qualities that the film obtains. One aspect that truly amps up the fear factor and puts an impressive stamp on Black Christmas is the brutal killings. 2006 was a bloody time for horror thanks to the rise in ‘torture-porn’ works such as Saw (2004) and Hostel (2005) dominating the field with their ‘go hard or go home attitude. The fight to appease gory appetites was a rising issue, with studios resulting in painting every slasher with as much blood as possible. Black Christmas was no exception to this rule. 

Arguably, with a fairly violent predecessor, the basis of every spectacle in the remake may not have been a complete shocker as some kills followed a similar path to Clark’s original splatter scenes. Still, somehow Morgan manages to take the inspiration in his stride and forge some extremely unique sequences that deserve a round of applause. The classic opening kill of Black Christmas (in both entries) involves an unlucky sorority sister being suffocated by a plastic bag, before being left to rot whilst the rest of the house goes about their merry way.

The cruel beginnings of both films are a perfect example of the difference between Clark and Morgan’s paths. Clark lengthens the scene by intercutting the full kill with scenes of Billy climbing up into the house and creeping around like a lurch (all shown from his eyes), before also showing the college tenants’ reaction to the obscene phone calls. As Billy wraps the plastic bag around Clare’s (Lynne Griffin) head, we watch as the sheet takes away any breath left, before showing her lifeless corpse in a swinging rocking chair in the attic as Billy mumbles nursery rhymes in the background. 

In Morgan’s adaption, the kill occurs within a fracture of the time as Clair (Leela Savasta) is swiftly suffocated by a plastic bag and stabbed in the eye with a pen all within two minutes of the title card’s appearance. It’s a gnarly death and certainly more visually visceral, with the rapid frames taking the audience by dire surprise and showing them that this remake is not here to mess around. However, whilst this fun fire of gory madness makes for an entertaining popcorn movie, its missing that certain magic that Clark captured. 

As the remake moves along, Morgan is given the chance to shine with his throwback essentialities that allow the film to have a reminiscent quality that rings back to camp 1980s slashers. The vibrant characters who take Barb’s witty euphemisms and dial them up to the max are what make the film glow with a warm, easy-going vibe that makes viewers come back to watch the gore-fest every holiday season. And whilst there were some excellent examples of eighties slashers that went above and beyond in making their characters more than kill currency, Black Christmas (2006) goes full throttle in creating over-the-top deaths that have the opportunity to introduce contemporary audiences to a slew of similarly minded films such as The Slumber Party Massacre (1982) and The House on Sorority Row (1982). 

The sheer awareness that Morgan obtained throughout the filming process is an exemplary mold that other successful remakes embraced including The Hills Have Eyes (2006) and My Bloody Valentine (2009). Fashioning a remake with a spine that acknowledges its predecessor and creates a similarly-minded film but with updated aesthetics is what allows Black Christmas to be a gory Christmastime classic. 

The slasher genre is forever in debt to Black Christmas and Clark’s visionary delights that wielded an archetypal sorority narrative with festive darkness to garner an everlastingly appealing horror.  And with the consistent regenerative nature of horror and the churning out of remakes, Black Christmas (2006) is certainly not the worst recreation floating about. Instead, it’s a grand effort in keeping the memory of the original alive and bring forth attention to the original from audiences who might have missed out on Clark’s genre-defining staple. 

Looking for more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..

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Original vs. Remake: My Bloody Valentine

“Roses are red, violets are blue, one is dead, and so are you…” 

Heart-shaped chocolates, fuzzy teddy bears, and crimson roses all encapsulate that over-bearing gushy feeling that sets hearts racing across the world all in ode to Valentine’s Day. Whilst I can’t say that I’m not a fan of hopelessly romantic films such as The Notebook (2004), there really is something special about Valentines-set horror’s that ooze bloody appeal. Without a doubt, one of the most reputable Valentine’s thrillers has to be My Bloody Valentine (1981), and as with any rocking slasher, this movie has been remade, leaving just one question- which one is better? 

Let’s find out in the latest edition of Dead Northern’s Original vs. Remake…

The scene is 1981, within the last few years rising classics have dominated the horror market, including Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980). The genre is very much alive, gaining interest amongst younger viewers rapidly. During this time we’ve had decent Christmas horror’s (Black Christmas [1974]) and of course a plethora of summer flicks, including Tourist Trap (1979). It became clear that seasonal horror was indefinitely a growing trend, leading to studios to pick up newbie-director George Mihalka to create the future classic that is My Bloody Valentine. 

Amongst the cheery atmosphere of Valentine Bluffs, a Canadian mining town, a dark history is fostered. Twenty years previous two supervisors in the mines abandoned the rest of the miners to attend the annual Valentine’s Day dance. In their haste they forgot to check the methane gas levels, resulting in a tragic explosion where the only survivor, Harry Warden, was left to rot, falling back on cannibalism to survive. The year after the incident Warden went on to hunt down the two supervisors, gutting out their hearts and placing them in Valentine’s gift boxes warning the town to never hold another Valentine’s dance ever again or else. Considering decades have passed many of the townspeople have buried his threat and decide to hold another dance, but whilst the residents are hanging up paper mache hearts and red balloons, the mayor and the police chief receive that same old heart shaped box containing a bloody human heart. 

Launching My Bloody Valentine’s celebrated reputation is the full bodied plot basis that refuses to succumb to customary genre archetypes. Screenplay writer John Beaird and writer Stephen Miller established a story rooted in the mythos of tall-tales and the recklessness of jovial youths. The film is far from being a formulaic story, there is no summer camp monster, nor are the characters ridden with stupidity, making all the wrong turns at a risky time. The killer’s ethos may still be entrenched with a revenge based quality, yet the apt pacing and added love triangle element fuse together to concoct a balanced parable. 

Further forgoing simplicity in favour of rich storytelling is the established production values that unfortunately are rather rare in 1980s slashers. The town of Valentine’s Bluff couldn’t get any more theatrical and audacious if it tried. Theming the town to be like the inside of a soppy Valentine’s card works wonders for the subject matter, it’s even somewhat gutsy. As overused as ‘juxtaposition’ is within horror analysis, in the case of My Bloody Valentine it’s entirely fitting. Seasonal horror universally benefits due to its own eccentric use of timely gimmicks. Without jack-o-lanterns and trick or treaters, many horrors set on All Hallows Eve wouldn’t have that same sentimental texture that drawers viewers in; just as My Bloody Valentine wields cupid tokens and sugar-coated characters to sweep the audience of their feet. The overt heart decorations and cozy atmosphere force an endearing streak of emotiveness, meaning that when someone meets their demise a grievous blow is delivered straight to the viewer. 

It’s not just Warden that slashes the town to shreds, the vicious censorship that the film suffered also rips away at Mihalka’s work. When the film hit censors, the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) was less than bemused over the gratuitous brutality. A total of nine minutes were cut and it wasn’t until 2009 when Lionsgate released the film that only an extra three out of those nine were restored. My Bloody Valentine is pretty gruesome with the kills being unmatched amongst many films at the time, but the graphicness that was removed from the film could have made Warden more of a threatening force to be feared, lining him up with genre greats. 

Well, this is where the remake drastically differs. A feast of gratuitous nudity, explicit kills, and powerful stylisation all are put under the spotlight in Patrick Lussier’s 2009 retelling of a small town killer.

Tom Hanniger (Jensen Ackles), son of the Hanniger Mine’s owner accidentally causes an explosion, caving in multiple miners, except for Harry Warden who whilst waiting to be discovered killed his fellow workers to conserve oxygen. One year later Warden awakens from his coma, murdering anyone he can at the hospital. Whilst Warden is preoccupied, Tom and his girlfriend Sarah (Jaime King), and their friends Axel Palmer (Kerr Smith) and Irene (Betsy Rue) attend a party in the mines as if a tragedy never occurred, but it’s not long until Warden makes his way to the mine vowing revenge. Sarah, Axel, and Irene escape but Tom is left to battle it out. Luckily for Tom, Sheriff Burke (Tom Atkins) shoots Warden before he can kill again. 

Ten years have passed since the incident, and all seems forgotten; that is until Tom returns to the town of Harmony where he intends to sell the mines. Unfortunately, losing the tunnels is not the town’s only demise as it seems that a pickaxe wielding killer is on the loose yet again. 

Having a 3D film basically does the marketing itself. Audiences crave immersion, the feeling of being one with the screen, the ability to be fully engrossed within the beauty of cinema. 3D cinema is exciting, especially when you add gory hits and blood spurts into the mix, then you’re in for a real treat, and the results really do show. Within the opening weekend alone over $24 million was grossed. Across the years the film has both raked in over $100 million at the box office and has received a cult status amongst horror fans. 

The film is certainly not perfect, but the acclaim is truly deserved. 

Kicking off the positives is the ruthless homage to crazy 1980s horror that doesn’t hold back on anything, almost like a rendition to B-movie aesthetics without the cynicism. There’s more than enough gore, crude language, and bare flesh to go round for everyone, with the film’s most redeeming quality rooted within the immodest finish that Lussier brazenly brings to the screen. With this being said, the violence was not overtly slapstick and gross, it was instead genuinely horrifying, it made Harry Warden a more iconic figure to be feared. The kills within the original were terrific, but his nature of being this damaged soul forced into revenge is slightly shallow within the execution. Although this is not necessarily Mihalka’s fault, alternatively the blame falls on those pesky censors. Rather than play tennis over which film is more graphic (bear in mind that the time the remake was made the threshold for violence was much higher) it’s vital to focus on how the remake’s gritty aesthetic is thoroughly entertaining and beyond rewatchable, which is aided by the film’s R-rating typicalities. 

The remorseless brutality meant that not a single soul felt safe. Similarly, the way the slate was wiped clean after the exposition based opening meant that throughout the rest of the film every person was a suspect. Whilst Valentine Bluffs is cheery and wholesome, brimming with bubbly charisma, the remake’s town named ‘Harmony’ sweeps away the original’s dreamy atmosphere in favour of bestowing aloof locals who seem stuck in the dead-end town, and that’s just the background folk. The main characters are far from innocent, having affairs and backstabbing one another. To make matters even more complex, the whole whodunnit aspect is dialed up to 100 as the cryptic killer seems to not have a directly clear motive. 

Speaking of the town’s unruly natives, the intertwining character dynamics coupled with the stellar performances propel the film into unfamiliar territory for mainstream slashers. I am a major raver for slashers, the good, the bad, and the ugly all reign supremely in my books, but that’s not to say that over the years the poor acting within a few select films tarnishes the overall effect. Within My Bloody Valentine the performances from Ackles, King, and Atkins definitely make the film a standout feature that begs to not be swept under the remake rug. 

The entire premise of an unknown assailant cutting their way through a small town is the primary likening between both the original and remake. The plots are not separate. Lussier adapts the remake to be more of a companion piece, allowing for a sense of freedom. One of the most noticeable differences actually lies within the set design. Whilst Valentine Bluffs drenched itself in lovey-dovey iconography, in the town of Harmony the killings just so happen to take place around Valentine’s day, rather than the events being a direct correlation to the festivities. In fact, if you took away the odd notion towards the holiday the film could take place at any other point in the year. Although this aspect allows for a lot of flexibility regarding the viewer, for me it took away a certain level of charm that Mihalka honed in on. 

To align both films together is a losing battle as they are entirely individualistic- a quality that is so precious to a successful remake. And whilst the kills in the remake are righteously barbaric, it is vital to remember those epic scenes found in the 1981 version, including the one and only laundromat kill, who doesn’t want to see a charred body lifelessly spinning in a bloody tumble dryer? 

In other words, comparing two slashers that were made decades apart is trivial. Audiences have matured, many fans have seen it all, becoming desensitized to good old-fashioned carnage. The callousness that Lussier exhibits is only natural for a modern-day slasher, but then at the same time the original still holds up with every single watch, never becoming diluted or worn. 

When it comes to this battle of ‘Originals vs. Remakes’ it’s certainly a tie. 

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ORIGINAL VS. REMAKE: A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET

a nightmare on elm street

The 1980s saw a rapid surplus of horror films seeping out from the woodwork. Not only was there a rise in interest for the more morbid side of cinema, but there was also a growing audience for slasher films. One of these great classics that has shaped the genre ever since it’s release is Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). The success of A Nightmare on Elm Street soared for many years as the franchise birthed a further eight films, a popular comic book series, multiple documentaries, and merchandise. As with any franchise there is always the odd entry that did not garner much praise, in this case the culprit is the 2010 remake directed by Samuel Bayer. This shot at giving the franchise a new lease is colloquially dismissed. However, is it possible that the remake actually holds a hidden charm? Or is it entirely doomed? Let’s find out in the most scathing ‘Original vs. Remakes’ yet…

In the seemingly sleepy suburb of Springwood, Freddy Krueger (Robert Englund), a disfigured clawed killer murders a group of unsuspecting teens whose parents were at the hands of his untimely death. 

The film is utterly aware of its strengths and uses them to its advantage, correlating a polished, witty and nightmare fueled horror. 

Craven earned a budding name for himself with the exploitation films The Last House on the Left (1972) and The Hills Have Eyes (1977) lining his early career, the cult success of these films brewed for years, but it was A Nightmare on Elm Street that truly shot his director credits into the spotlight for decades to come. Thankfully Craven kept his talents primarily within the horror sector, earning a reputation for being rather masterful, supplementing dark humour to keep films entertaining, with A Nightmare on Elm Street beginning this ode to comic horror. Throughout the film there are numerous witty punchlines accompanied by an ever menacing grin from Freddy, cementing his place as an iconic horror villain that stands out from the crowd. He is personable, lively, and gruesome. Freddy’s personality certainly helps fasten the film’s reputation, ensuring his place as a horror sensation. 

As easy as it is to discuss Freddy all day this is definitely not the film’s sole edge, with the outstanding practical effects, unparalleled score, and tense symbolism all contributing to its notorious reputation. 

Speaking of those unmatched visuals, head of practical effects Jim Doyle, created incredibly innovative scenes on a shoestring budget (compared to nowadays), namely the infamous ‘bed of death’ scene. Glen’s (Johnny Depp) death displayed a tidal wave of blood spurting upwards from his bed, dragging him down into a deep hellish pit. To create the gushing blood effect an entire rotating room was created. The room was turned completely upside down via various crew having to manually turn the room like a dial crank, with Craven loosely strapped into a camera chair to the side. In true budgeted form the furniture was not correctly strapped or secured with safety wires, instead everything was simply nailed down. Adding to the risk was the fact that the red dyed water replicating the blood hit a tonne of wiring, causing the fluid to become electrified. Despite everything, the final product went above and beyond in creating one of horror’s most memorable scenes. 

This whole craftsmanship is what makes A Nightmare on Elm Street stand out. There wasn’t a chance for plenty of retakes and editing to glam-up the grungy effects, instead it was just a crew full of people risking their time and safety to create a future classic. The labour of love throughout A Nightmare on Elm Street is abundantly clear. There is a reason why the film has sat on a pedestal for all these years, it has an air of originality, a certain magnetism which allowed all of the sequels to follow. Craven’s 1984 visionary horror seems to only continue in its triumphant path, however the same cannot be said for the 2010 remake which only seems to amass negative attention. 

2010’s remake came into play thanks to Michael Bay, a filmmaker and producer who is known for his over-the-top effects (mainly explosions), quick pacing, and ability to make even the calmest of scenes seem erratic and completely overblown. During the early 2000’s it became clear that horror remakes were a quick one-way ticket to financial success, with the likes of The Amityville Horror (2005), The Hitcher (2007), and Friday the 13th (2008) making film financers such as Bay a quick buck. That’s not to say that A Nightmare on Elm Street was solely a money grab, but the roots of its purpose certainly seem that way. 

After plenty of rumours surrounding the remake, production began in 2008, with music video director Samuel Bayer being hired, alongside a hopeful cast including of Connie Britton, Rooney Mara, Jackie Earle Haley, and Kyle Gallner.

The central premise of Kreuger’s motive in both of these films is that his death was at the hands of these teenagers’ parents, as an act of revenge. The motivation for the entire film is an allegory about the sins of the ‘elders’ coming back to haunt the innocent, in a form of evil injustice. Both parties are wrong, yet the battle will always continue thanks to the mass ignorance of society. Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street may seem like just another slasher from the exterior, but it is a tale of repressed guilt that exposes the results of denial and shame. There are many gripes that the remake clutches onto, but the abandonment of Craven’s superb surrealism in favour of creating a watered down dreamscape is the worst of them all.

Through Bayer forgoing all of this buildup, we are left with another emotionally trimmed, lukewarm horror that shackles itself to all of the other mundane formulaic movies. 

One of the most common protests that audiences had with the film is that Freddy’s characterisation is entirely altered, so much so that there is not a single ounce of intrigue and allure to his persona. There is no scary voice, or trademark charm, unfortunately slapping on a red and green jumper and a claw hand is not enough. Worst of all there is zero sympathy towards his character. Freddy is not a model citizen, yet there was always this air of forgiveness over his actions. However, in 2010 he was made out to be a child predator. This was all part of the film’s attempt to make the remake a *very* dark and serious film that brews slowly thanks to an incredibly horrifying backbone. Instead of becoming this unsettling nightmare, similar to the Evil Dead (2013) remake, it simply tries too hard to be something that it’s not. Horrid themes do not always equate to fear.

We could be shown one of the most violent scenes known to cinema, but that doesn’t mean that it gives the audience the creeps. If Bayer would have focused more on fleshing out Freddy’s backstory and then infuse it within the characters emotional development then possibly the narrative would have worked. But it’s as if the writers have handed us a child abuse story on a plate and then just forgot to stir it into the rest of the film. 

Despite everything it’s not all doom and gloom. Arguments could be passed back and forth about this missed opportunity, but it does have to be said that the box office figures show that the intense marketing and buzz surrounding the film generated enough attention for it to be one of the most financially successful remakes of its time. It still remains the second highest grossing film out of the entire franchise. It may not be everyone’s favourite remake, but it gave horror a quick boost in mainstream cinema. 

Another redeeming factor is seen through the decent performances, particularly by Mara who played the titular Nancy. Her portrayal of a distressed teen is fairly grounded in reality and not overtly flamboyant and ridiculously written. Working alongside this is the attempt at recreating something fresh. The remake is not a play-by-play of Craven’s original, nor is it an entirely original story that uses the basic framework of a classic to take the tale in a new direction. Although the remake bears a reputation that generally airs on the negative side, it might have possibly worked as a standalone film if amendments were made, perfect for tween viewers who want an easy popcorn movie. 

Painting a grungy scene and blasting CGI over every possible image does not equal a “good movie”. Sometimes it’s not the budget you need or an over-thought subplot to make a film work, alternatively all a groundbreaking horror needs is a vivid imagination and an expressive story that is rooted from a passion for the genre. It can sound contradictory to comment that the film tries too hard, but at the same time doesn’t try hard enough, yet this is exactly the issue, the aching tangent becomes so tired thanks to all of the repetitiveness. Remakes can be excellent, even better than the original, but in this case A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) is the standout champion.

Love to read more about the iconic horror villain? Check out our article on Freddy here.

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Original vs. Remake: The Hills Have Eyes

hillshaveeyes


Within the current cinema climate lies a deeply debated sub section that has been seeding itself into horror for quite some time now. If you weren’t aware of it already, the interception operation of remakes has been turning every classic on its head and injecting the old with some new. Although some of the re-envisioning’s have been lacking that certain magic that allowed their predecessor to shine, many of these modern takes are rightly renowned. A prime example of this being The Hills Have Eyes. 

The Carter family, comprising of mother and father Bob (Russ Grieve), and Ethel (Virginia Vincent), and their three children Brenda (Susan Lanier), Bobby (Robert Houston), and Lynne (Dee Wallace), and Lynne’s Husband, Doug (Martin Speer), and their baby Katy (Brenda Marinoff) all gather for a group road trip holiday to see the sights of Los Angeles. Whilst enroute they stop in Nevada at a dingy gas station, where Fred (John Steadman) warns them to explicitly stay on the main road, but Bob knows best and detours, resulting in them being stranded after a crash. As night falls, a sickening group of teetering cannibals take advantage of the Carter’s isolation, and assault, kill, and torture several members of the family. 

When we look back on exploitation cinema of the 1970s, the immediate highlights include The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974), I Spit on Your Grave (Meir Zarchi, 1978), and another entry from Craven, The Last House on the Left (1972). These films all have a soaring reputation, and understandably so. I cannot compare idolised films such as Texas Chainsaw with The Hills Have Eyes, but I can comment upon the film as having exceptionally dark tones that keep it in the horror hall of fame. The basic premise of a suburban family stranded in the blazing desert is one that is now a trope, but that current cliché once was fresh and energising, particularly when Craven used the picturesque view to juxtapose the violent imagery.

This daytime approach was eerie. There were no haunted mansions, masked killers, knife wielding escapists, or ghostly spirits, instead it was an equally discontented bunch of folk, ruthless and ready for blood. Craven’s approach of an open bright setting is relentlessly daunting, with the sandy hills seeming endless. There is no hope of someone coming by to rescue them, there is no chance of the scorching sun cooling, and even worse, there is no one there to save them if anything goes awry…

Craven took inspiration from the story of the Sawney Bean tribe who would hunt and eat their victims. Once the tribe had been arrested they were tortured, burnt and hanged by so-called ‘civilised’ vigilantes. The synchronization of the cruel acts from the deranged, and the vicious acts from the ‘normal’ provides a mischievously deep commentary on the barbarism of human nature. Relating to this is the notion of ‘urbanoia’ developed by Carol Clover.

Here the archetypes of normality are abandoned once the city is left behind, as societal rules no longer exist, including hygiene expectations, sexual boundaries, social cues, and an understanding of clear thought. The overall ecological constraints of the world are obsolete, and it’s through this that the chaos ensues in the film between the Carter’s and their depraved counterparts. 

Within this division of right and wrong lies the moral question of who is worse. Yes, the cannibals committed savage acts, yet so did the Carter’s as a means of revenge. If pen was on paper both groups are morally wrong. However, Craven carefully creates a strong character arc for the primary members of the dynasty, particularly Ruby (Janus Blythe) and Pluto (Michael Berryman), which in turn creates a slight form of fan gratitude towards their presence.

Similarly to how we fight for Jason, feel sorrow for Michael, and are cheer Freddy, it can be said that we somehow root for the fighter, no matter their actions due to the reputation that has been garnered over time. Of course the acts are horrendous, but the fight between good and evil is what we’re watching the film for in the first place. 

Contrasting against this is the 2006 remake that follows closely to the original but has a stronger focus on villainising the antagonists, and refining the gritty aesthetics to create a discourse drenched in blood, dripping in backstory, and focusing on the brutality of the debilitatingly vile tyrants. The homage to the original is clear, with Craven himself conjuring the idea of a remake in the first place. Upon seeing the success of other adaptations he scoured for a director with that certain aptness for creating the absurd, which soon led him to Alexandre Aja who had recently directed the French extremism horror, High Tension (2003). Craven and Aja made an outstanding duo, with dare I say it the remake surpassing the original. 

This brave statement needs backing, and although the original was not cluttered with flaws it has suffered with brittle bones as time had slightly aged it. Through no fault of the film the characters on reflection do suffer slightly from genericness, and the cannibal appearances in consideration of today’s visuals were lacking a particular ferociousness. What the remake did was hone in on what makes the 1977 film such a classic, with the financial and cult success of Aja’s vision being almost entirely thanks to Craven’s original innovation. For example, the idea of a neglected family left to become beastial is terrifying, but what if their feral nature was the result of something much more contrived? 

Aja sets this tone by opening the film with a scene showing scientists testing the desert ground for radiation levels as Pluto interrupts and kills them with a pickaxe. Later on it is implied that Pluto and his clan’s deformities were caused by nuclear radiation experiments performed by the government. Across the film we are graced with multiple appearances from the deformed deviants. Their monstrous appearances are greatly effective, with bulbous foreheads and skin mutations daring us to not turn away at the hideousness of it all.

Any form of connection that was established in the original is abandoned as there is literally no way that we can relate to them. And it’s not only their physical features that catalyse detest, it’s their harsh actions that go above and beyond the remorseless activity that occurred in the original. The infamous torture scene where the Carter’s are attacked in the trailer is massively amplified as we are forced to witness a jarring scene where Doug and Lynn’s baby has a weapon raised to its infant head. Lets just say that the level of inhumanity that Aja dares to show is potent.

Furthering the peaks of malevolence is the fine detail that is sharpened through Aja’s modernisation. The defined camerawork is a far cry from the shaky pans that featured heavily in Craven’s piece (albeit it added to the exploitation). Through the tuned cinematography we are treated with stunning chiaroscuro effects during the night scenes, particularly that distressing scene where Bob meets his fatal end. The vivid visuals allow for a visceral impact that lingers long after watching.

My praise for this remake is owed entirely to the original works. Aja writes a clear love letter to Craven’s stellar execution of familial chaos. It is this clear combination of stigmatising themes and gut wrenching exhibitions that casts a carefully constructed ode to what was Craven’s jumping start to his genre defining career. 

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Original vs remake Reviews

Original vs. Remake: It (1990) & It (2017)

IT 1990

Remakes, reboots, and revivals have taken possession over a hefty section of horror productions, with a plethora of classics being re–envisioned to either accommodate younger and newer audience members or to bring new light to beloved genre favourites. Although we have seen our fair share of remakes gone wrong, there remains a select bunch of films whose newer additions have proven to be just as good or even better than the original.

For this ‘Original vs Remake’ edition, we will be comparing It (Tommy Lee Wallace, 1990) and It (Andy Muschietti, 2017). 

Storming onto the screens in 1990 is It, a terrifying portrayal of a demonic entity who takes on the shape of a clown to terrorise its victims every 27 years. However, its latest string of targets (the self-acclaimed “Losers Club”) may just be brave enough to banish Pennywise for good. Unlike a generic (yet anything but mundane) humanoid creature Pennywise the Clown does not play the typical game of lurching out from dark corners and hiding under the bed, instead, it preys upon individuals own specific fears to weaken and destroy them in what is their worst nightmare.

Of course one of the only writers capable of conjuring such an unsettling story is Stephen King. King penned It in 1986, and although the film drifts slightly from the novel the true essences are kept clear. 

To determine the winner of the old and new “It’s” is an impossible battle as each film encapsulates alternative identities, but to firstly differentiate between the two we need to discuss the classic character of Pennywise. The 1990 It casts Tim Curry (The Rocky Horror Picture Show) as the dreaded clown, with simple makeup and costume (at least for a clown). As Curry is the titular character there is an immense amount of pressure to create a multidimensional performance that can both lure his child victims in and then frighten the living daylights out of them.

Curry does not fail once, in fact, I might even go as far as stating that his portrayal is one of the best that horror has ever seen. The sheer embodiment of shapeshifting terror is brutally brazen, which is only furthered by Curry’s witty balance of stark humour and horrifying antics. 

It was made as a tv miniseries, with two episodes and a total original length of 192 minutes, with the physical release merging the episodes to become a feature length movie. It is a unique factor within itself for a ‘made-for-tv’ movie to become an outstanding success, let alone make its mark as one of the most iconic horror’s. Due to the broadcasting, certain restrictions were put in place that is typically abolished within mainstream horror including a limit to bloodshed and gore, as well as censorship to graphic content.

After horror audiences were subjected to grisly violence from exaggerated 1980s horror, It certainly was a breath of fresh air. Audiences’ tactics shifted from gratuitous shock to psychological character studies. We are not met with generous carnage, with the piece actually having an almost black comedy mechanism. However, the comic motifs are not a replacement of fear, with the flicking of Curry’s performance from inviting to menacing being nothing less than startling. 

On this note, It relies upon subtext and internalised concepts to create a bounding journey. During the first act, we see the losers club as children dealing with their own individual issues, which are rather harrowing yet realistic considering their age including traumatic milestones such as grief, and abuse. Although the ‘losers are all dealing with scarring experiences Lee Wallace does not show them in extreme jeopardy, with the camera simply cutting to their expressions when Pennywise strikes. Despite some scenes feeling slightly dated, It is an undeniable classic that still holds up to this day. 

News of a remake began to emerge from as early as 2009, but it was not until 2015 when the production began to pick up speed with Muschietti being announced as the director. The trailer almost immediately amassed a cult following of its own, with the view count entering the millions. The brand new shiny Pennywise enthralled audiences (myself included!). Curry’s vivid and rambunctious appearance was wiped away in favour of a brandished shadowed look complete with dusty clothing and a more styled-out ginger barnet.

Bill Skarsgård took the brave step of becoming the nerve-wracking Pennywise. Such an iconic role is accompanied by severe pressures, however truthfully his small appearance in the trailer and posters was enough to create a swift fan appeal. It was about to enter onto the horror scene with a killer force, conjuring a vigorous reputation as being one of the highest-grossing horror films of all time. 

It is not better than the original, but it is on par. There are a plethora of reasons as to why this is my belief, but one of my main factors is that the loser’s club has refined and well-developed personas that transcend into a coming-of-age movie. Quite favourably I admire any film that decides to use age appropriate characters rather than twenty-somethings playing tweens. Although It (1990) enacts the same character backstories, the relationships between the losers have such an authentic bond that plays out as non-scripted; just as if the camera was kept rolling whilst they would playfully make jabs at one another.

Simply due to more modern filmmaking and techniques, Muschietti transforms the fictional town of Derry, Maine into a hellish landscape with treacherous corners lurking in the ordinary. Pennywise does not even have to be in shot for our senses to start heightening. The atmosphere alone is daunting, with the town hoarding a dark omen; Derry exceeds being just a town, instead it becomes a character. This is certainly an aspect that It (2017) focuses on, alongside one of the other primary differences, the graphicness.

It does not shun its psychodrama roots, yet we are welcomed to indulge in grisly carnage. Although visual gore is not the focus, there is plenty of horrific imagery whose sole purpose serves to disconcert our awareness. The infamous opening scene shows a little Georgie (Jackson Robert Scott) chase his paper boat that falls down a storm drain where he fatally meets Pennywise. At first, Pennywise dons the joyous clown persona to fool Georgie, before he mutates into a disgustingly ferocious beast with razor-sharp fangs ripping into this small boy’s arm. His metamorphosis into a barbaric behemoth both entices and panics the audiences. 

Muschietti and Lee Wallace’s take on King’s beyond incredible tale of a demonic clown truly emulates and escalates some of the most vital and engrossing moments of the book. It is not necessary to compare and battle these two films as they are each substantially iconic in their own individual ways. I view them as equal contenders who compliment each other, and both deserve their own hallmark within the horror film history. 

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.