Monday, May 24, 2010

A Review: A Nightmare On Elm Street

 "How's this for a wet dream? Heheahaahahaha..."
                       --Freddy Krueger

I knew within the first two minutes of this film, that it was going to suck balls... That's sucks balls man. I was excited and stuff too. Here is my review on A Nightmare On Elm Street. Or, the 95 minutes I'll never get back.

There is no set up. There is no prologue. We just cut straight to the mindless zombies, I mean very pretty teenagers, and their equally mindless dialogue. But ma hat gets tipped to the friendly little dude in the Joy Division T-shirt. (Kellen Lutz also proved to me in no less than five single minutes, he didn't deserve the raise he just got for Twilight: Breaking Dawn)

For whatever inexplicable reason, after his death, child pedophile Fred Krueger, has entered a realm of supernatural evil, and been endowed with the power to enter the dreams and realities of people. And merk them all up like a super-pissed off deli slicer.

I'm not a make-up technician, but I do wonder how many gallons of fake tears they went through to achieve nearly every scene in which, one of two females leads, happens to be crying.

This film has style, flare, and visuals, but nothing else. End of story. This film is riddled with so many plot holes, I wouldn't be surprised it was shot on Swiss cheese instead of celluloid. And I'm still not sure if Freddy dropping the good ol' F-bomb is cool, or just plum dumb. Be that as it may, this film is grabbing 1.5 out 4--2 outa 4 'Nanas actually. I'll give Samuel Bayer the benefit of the doubt, and say that for his first big outing, Michael Bay (as many power mad douche's in Hollywood) was protecting his money maker, and took some creative control away from him maybe? Asserting too much of his producer cred into the mix. I do know that Bayer said no this film to Michael's face. Twice. Then got an aggressive but eye opening email about the doors that could open, once this film was in the can.

Who really knows, but I saw the artistic qualities Bayer can provide when given a chance. He is the recipient of the Clio Award, for his work in TV commercials. If I understand it correctly, this award is very coveted and hard to receive. This is the guy that shot, Smells Like Teen Spirit, and has been churning out top billed music vids since then. He's no chump, and I wish him the best. Let's see what he does next time around when he doesn't have to work with Platinum Dunes (Bay's ridiculous production company) again.

JEH, bless his heart, the man was so stoked about this film. He worked so hard, and was obviously excited to sink his teeth into those claws. Too bad. Fan reaction to his make-up and portrayal was negative. But I don't really blame him about it. It was a much appreciated performance and I enjoyed, if only, to see Haley on cloud nine about it every scene he's in.

On a final note though, I couldn't help but wondering one or two things. Let's think about this: how many times do you see a monster, before your not frightened anymore? It's just a few knives after all. Isn't that easy enough to sidestep and then using a blunt instrument, beat the ever loving fuck out of him with? Oh yeah, that's right, Freddy also controls the space-time continuum. So no. That won't be good enough. Because he'll just come back after you. Be it real world or your dreams. Where's that dream machine from the upcoming Inception? All those dudes have guns, send Leo in with Ellen Page, that should do it.

Munki Out.

1 comment:

  1. When I went to see this movie, I had high expectations. The fact that JEH was going to put on the claws and stripes of one of the few most outspoken and memorable American horror entities of all time made my cousin and I toss off the ruby slippers and want to stay in that blood soaked Oz for every second. When the lights came back on and the credits finished, I was still in love with JEH's brilliance, but Elm Street did not hold the throat clenching terror for me that it had once held. I hold strong to the fact (fact to me, opinion to anyone else who hears it from me) That the life and times of the Hollywood horror has been fluffed too much to fit this new generation of give me action and boobs now, then if you have time give me a five second story. The past always tastes better when sprinkled with the sugary dusting of our cherished memories, and it is hard to live up to a phenom that basically taught two generations to fear going to sleep at night.