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review: poltergeist

26/01/02 @ 6:12 p.m.

The database doesn't let me call Tobe Hooper a sick fuck, so I thought I'd put the review up here too, where I can swear as much as i want. When you're slagging off Spielberg's sentimentality, you really do need to swear. And don't read it if you've not seen this stinker, because it'll spoil it for you.
Before seeing Poltergeist I had a hard time imagining how the teaming up of sick fuck Tobe Hooper and saccharine merchant Steven Spielberg could work. Hooper’s Texas Chain Saw Massacre is a horror giant, but since Jaws, Spielberg’s been unable to stop wetting his pants at any movie rated above a PG; how these minds could collaborate successfully was a mystery to me. After seeing it, I realised it was a mystery to them too.
Poltergeist is an uncomfortable blend of Spielberg’s happy-family obsession and Hooper’s plan to make you leave a trail of vomit behind you on the way out of the cinema. Every time the horror element gets too scary, Spielberg steps in to show us the magic of suburbia and undermines the whole thing. Imagine taking The Exorcist, removing the tension, blasphemy and profanity, keeping the unconvincing effects, and filling up the gaping holes with Nutrasweet, and you’ve got yourself this half-hearted horror-free horror movie.
Set in beautiful Spielbergville, a new housing estate in the heart of Cloying County, the startlingly unoriginal plot sees a house invaded by a poltergeist. And then a bunch of dead people. And then the devil, who, for the sake of an audience-boosting PG rating, is referred to only as “The Beast”. I can’t believe I just wasted four seconds of my life explaining the plot, when the title sums it up in its entirety. And there’s a huge flaw right there, because while Spielberg’s inability to write subversive horror is the biggest problem, a close second is the movie’s inability to keep its secrets to itself.
This is a film called Poltergeist. The name of the movie tells us right away that it’s about a poltergeist. There’s no ambiguity in the title – this isn’t “Could Be A Poltergeist”, or “Maybe It’s Related to The Storm”, it’s called Poltergeist. The secret’s out. So while the first forty minutes of the movie are spent watching the (blissfully happy) family trying to understand why their youngest daughter has started talking to the TV, the audience remembers the title of the movie and starts twiddling its thumbs.
Where The Exorcist or the Chain Saw Massacre built tension based on the predictability their titles had given them, Poltergeist remembers how desperately it wants a PG rating, and simply kills time. In a humane way, obviously. The only build-up Spielberg allows is a sliding chair and a bendy knife and fork. It’s hardly edge-of-the-seat stuff.
This non-tension is followed by a non-finale which takes place twenty minutes before the film’s running time is up. Anyone who believes we’ll spend the next twenty minutes seeing the family living happily ever after has obviously stolen Spielberg’s rose-tinted glasses and doubled the thickness of their lenses. The predictability is just depressing, and the second finale is no more interesting than the first.
This is a useless horror that ignores the concepts of tension, gore, realism, logic, and horror itself. After watching this weedy offering, even The Waltons would tell Spielberg to drop his loveable-family theme and get some cynicism.

b o o k m a r k s-----r u d i e s-----u p d a t e s-----m y--i l l n e s s -----m o v i e--r e v i e w s

Content and layout © Yawner, 2001. Hosted by Diaryland. Best viewed with IE5, probably pants with Netscape.


o l d-----n e w-----l a s t-----n e x t-----m e-----y o u-----m a i l-----n o t e s-----r i n g s-----







review: poltergeist
26/01/02 @ 6:12 p.m.
The database doesn't let me call Tobe Hooper a sick fuck, so I thought I'd put the review up here too, where I can swear as much as i want. When you're slagging off Spielberg's sentimentality, you really do need to swear. And don't read it if you've not seen this stinker, because it'll spoil it for you. Before seeing Poltergeist I had a hard time imagining how the teaming up of sick fuck Tobe Hooper and saccharine merchant Steven Spielberg could work. Hooper’s Texas Chain Saw Massacre is a horror giant, but since Jaws, Spielberg’s been unable to stop wetting his pants at any movie rated above a PG; how these minds could collaborate successfully was a mystery to me. After seeing it, I realised it was a mystery to them too. Poltergeist is an uncomfortable blend of Spielberg’s happy-family obsession and Hooper’s plan to make you leave a trail of vomit behind you on the way out of the cinema. Every time the horror element gets too scary, Spielberg steps in to show us the magic of suburbia and undermines the whole thing. Imagine taking The Exorcist, removing the tension, blasphemy and profanity, keeping the unconvincing effects, and filling up the gaping holes with Nutrasweet, and you’ve got yourself this half-hearted horror-free horror movie. Set in beautiful Spielbergville, a new housing estate in the heart of Cloying County, the startlingly unoriginal plot sees a house invaded by a poltergeist. And then a bunch of dead people. And then the devil, who, for the sake of an audience-boosting PG rating, is referred to only as “The Beast”. I can’t believe I just wasted four seconds of my life explaining the plot, when the title sums it up in its entirety. And there’s a huge flaw right there, because while Spielberg’s inability to write subversive horror is the biggest problem, a close second is the movie’s inability to keep its secrets to itself. This is a film called Poltergeist. The name of the movie tells us right away that it’s about a poltergeist. There’s no ambiguity in the title – this isn’t “Could Be A Poltergeist”, or “Maybe It’s Related to The Storm”, it’s called Poltergeist. The secret’s out. So while the first forty minutes of the movie are spent watching the (blissfully happy) family trying to understand why their youngest daughter has started talking to the TV, the audience remembers the title of the movie and starts twiddling its thumbs. Where The Exorcist or the Chain Saw Massacre built tension based on the predictability their titles had given them, Poltergeist remembers how desperately it wants a PG rating, and simply kills time. In a humane way, obviously. The only build-up Spielberg allows is a sliding chair and a bendy knife and fork. It’s hardly edge-of-the-seat stuff. This non-tension is followed by a non-finale which takes place twenty minutes before the film’s running time is up. Anyone who believes we’ll spend the next twenty minutes seeing the family living happily ever after has obviously stolen Spielberg’s rose-tinted glasses and doubled the thickness of their lenses. The predictability is just depressing, and the second finale is no more interesting than the first. This is a useless horror that ignores the concepts of tension, gore, realism, logic, and horror itself. After watching this weedy offering, even The Waltons would tell Spielberg to drop his loveable-family theme and get some cynicism.
	b o o k m a r k s-----r u d i e s-----u p d a t e s-----m y--i l l n e s s -----m o v i e--r e v i e w s







	Content and layout © Yawner, 2001. Hosted by Diaryland. Best viewed with IE5, probably pants with Netscape.