The Horror... The Horror!
It's not every day that I revisit a movie I disliked as strongly as I did The Hills Have Eyes, but I found three indications that a second screening might be worthwhile: my favorite print critic gave it a favorable and interesting review, and our debates about it haven't ended yet; I felt like I was in bad faith slamming it as a sidebar in my reviews of both The Descent and Lady in the Water without properly articulating my case; and, as I've now tried to explain in my full review, Hills makes too strong an impression both visually and sonically to be dismissed out of hand like typical garbage. I may dislike the film, as in fact I did on second try, but I do think it's a potent provocation and one of the few 2006 releases deserving of extended debate. Pipe in below with your take: between Tim and me, you're bound to find at least one quick ally.Meanwhile, for someone who loves actresses, I saw precious few of them in my screenings of the past week: the spectacular but remarkably verveless Ben-Hur; the curious jailhouse drama Birdman of Alcatraz; Billy Wilder's ambitious but unpersuasive prison-camp story Stalag 17; and the exciting seaboard adventure Mutiny on the Bounty, which I had the terrific fortune to catch in 35mm projection at the LaSalle Bank Cinema in Chicago, an exhilarating revival house managed and operated by my new/old friend Goatdog and loyally attended by some of the most true-blue movie fanatics I've ever met. Anyway, barely a handful of women in all four movies combined, at least if you discount the Russian female POWs in Stalag 17; I didn't realize that the Third Reich paraded captive women in such glamorous single-file arrangements.
(Image © 2006 Fox Searchlight Pictures, reproduced from the Hills Have Eyes page at OutNow.com.)
Labels: Movies 2006, Oscars, Stinkers









2 Comments:
Hooray! I knew I'd wrest one out of you eventually. A fabulous read and nails what's absolutely tricky, slippery, sardonic and troublesome about the movie, whichever way you're coming at it. (Me, I still quite like being toyed with so proficiently, even by leering sadists.)
Anyway, I feel we've probably flogged this horse to death by now and perhaps spiked it in the head with a US flag and run off thumbing our noses. Case closed. It's fun, or, it's not.
Now, shall I try and mount a defence of one of your other F-graded movies from recent months? Ask the Dust? Er... bear with me here... I'm sure there was something...
Don't forget all of the scantily clad Tahitian women in Mutiny on the Bounty. Some of them even got to speak!
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