My Friday Night Freak Fest and a review of The Strangers

When I wrote about the trailer for The Strangers earlier in the week, I never really indicated that I intended to go see it. I must admit that I am not a huge horror fan because I am a much bigger fan of not being scared. But then my older brother laid down a challenge of sorts on the comments page. Ben has always shown up for a good scary movie (he has a Haddonfield Illinois T-shirt, if you catch that reference you deserve a free subscription to Fangora). I clearly recall him giving me a shot-by-shot recollection of A Nightmare on Elm St. so chilling that I have never seen the movie myself. Upon reading his comment I resolve to be the scardey cat brother no longer. I decide to go the movie after dark, alone, at a time when there would be no one at the house upon my return. Pretty brave, if I do say so myself.
When I reach the front of the box office line I am informed, “The theater is almost full. There are a lot of kids in there.” I feign annoyance and buy my ticket. The truth was I am relieved that I will be surrounded by people half my age who will no doubt talk throughout to remind me that this is, in fact, just a movie. The crowd does not disappoint; their gossiping and texting doing wonders for my high anxiety. What follows is a proper review of the movie itself:

Simplicity is The Strangers best asset. With only four speaking roles, minimal use of inorganic sound, and a nearly claustrophobic use of space, this film is pretty bare bones. Add to this the simplicity of the premise (couple in house wants to live, three masked crazies outside of house have other intentions) and you have a pretty frightening movie with a classic, pre-slasher, feel. There are plenty of jump out of your seat moments (including a few compulsory false alarms) and plenty of chances to scream “Don’t go into the house/car/garage/dilapidated barn etc." The use of music is so pitch perfect scary that you will never hear Merle Haggard the same way again. The gore level is kept surprisingly, and wisely, low to keep the movie firmly in the “scary” category far away from the “just plain gross” section.

Writer/director Bryan Bertino remembers that the more plausible the scenario the more terrifying it is. He has wisely excised anything that would require an explanation (a hostel where guests are sold to a group of businessmen who allow others to torture and kill them for money, for example). Focusing the action in a home, the symbol of safety and security in so many lives, amplifies the fear factor. The performances of Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman play into this perfectly. They are both so completely unremarkable, on purpose, that the viewer can easily superimpose themselves into the situation.

All horror movies eventually face the same problem: the issue of diminishing returns. What is scary twenty-minutes in will not be scary at the hour mark. This is where The Strangers stumbles. The villains are nightmare inducing, but an over-reliance on the “masks are scary” mantra leads to a stall in the frights about three quarter of the way through the film. The audience becomes accustomed to the concept and familiarity just isn’t scary. Something new needed to happen and it never did. The end of the film is even more disappointing. Without revealing the final act, let’s just say the filmmakers traded in cleverness for cleavers. The conclusion felt more like the fair that Rob Zombie and the other Horror-porn mongers have been serving up to horror fans for the past several years. This particular choice keeps The Strangers from being an entirely viable alternative to that truly dreadful genre.