The Mist (2007)
It is often said (by those who are looking for an excuse to incorporate horror movies as part of their liberal arts education) that horror movies reflect the anxieties of the time in which they are made. That's why The Mist so accurately captures our modern fears: weird weather, non-functioning cell phones, fundamentalist Christians, secret military operations, lawsuit-happy neighbors, supermarkets, monsters from other dimensions, and of course, bugs.
"Easy, lady, I'm just here for some pickles."
Against the backdrop of a small town in Maine--oh wait, did I mention that this was based on a Stephen King story? Anyway, this story's message stands in contrast to some of the claptrap we've been hearing lately from politicians about "small town values." The message from The Mist is that, given the tensions brought on by weird weather, secret military operations, or monsters from other dimensions, people in small towns will divide up into bitter enemy tribes, ready to kill one another for no goddamn reason at all. Especially the fundamentalist Christians and lawsuit-happy neighbors.
Our hero, Christopher Lambert lookalike Thomas Jane (The Punisher (2004), Deep Blue Sea), is a family man with a pretty wife and a charming young son. He's also employed as a painter of movie posters, and a look into his studio reveals his original painting of the poster for The Thing. I took this to be the filmmakers' signal of what was coming: a bunch of people trapped in a small place as scary otherworldly beasties make their numbers dwindle. Everyone's seen it before, in Alien--even Deep Blue Sea for that matter--and countless other movies. In horror movies, lack of originality is not a sin. The Mist goes a little overboard with the pure and simple evil from the 8th dimension, including acid-throwing parasitic arachnoid xenomorphs, tentacled horrors from beyond, and Maine's state bird: the crow-sized mosquito.
But it delivers real suspense and some good scares, and that's what counts. As an added bonus, every time I yelled at the screen, the movie would answer, a beat later. Either a character would make the same quip I would, or do the thing I was urging them to do. Again, maybe one or both of us is unoriginal, but I had a lot of fun.
This dude is so ready to chop up some mafia guys, or superintelligent sharks.
Eventually our family man decides that risking extradimensional arthropods is preferable to being sacrificed to the corn god by the Jeebus freak and her surprisingly impressionable congregation. The last remaining likable characters have to overcome the knife-weilding bible thumpers, go out into the bug-infested mist, and in yet another scene capturing our modern day anxieties, try to find the car in the parking lot. From then on we're in Romero territory, where the chances of escaping the atmosphere of dread fade into the increasing likelihood of a bummer ending. Whether or not there will be a sequel is irrelevant, since another movie like this is almost certainly being made somewhere, right now. And I like those odds.
"Easy, lady, I'm just here for some pickles."
Against the backdrop of a small town in Maine--oh wait, did I mention that this was based on a Stephen King story? Anyway, this story's message stands in contrast to some of the claptrap we've been hearing lately from politicians about "small town values." The message from The Mist is that, given the tensions brought on by weird weather, secret military operations, or monsters from other dimensions, people in small towns will divide up into bitter enemy tribes, ready to kill one another for no goddamn reason at all. Especially the fundamentalist Christians and lawsuit-happy neighbors.
Our hero, Christopher Lambert lookalike Thomas Jane (The Punisher (2004), Deep Blue Sea), is a family man with a pretty wife and a charming young son. He's also employed as a painter of movie posters, and a look into his studio reveals his original painting of the poster for The Thing. I took this to be the filmmakers' signal of what was coming: a bunch of people trapped in a small place as scary otherworldly beasties make their numbers dwindle. Everyone's seen it before, in Alien--even Deep Blue Sea for that matter--and countless other movies. In horror movies, lack of originality is not a sin. The Mist goes a little overboard with the pure and simple evil from the 8th dimension, including acid-throwing parasitic arachnoid xenomorphs, tentacled horrors from beyond, and Maine's state bird: the crow-sized mosquito.
But it delivers real suspense and some good scares, and that's what counts. As an added bonus, every time I yelled at the screen, the movie would answer, a beat later. Either a character would make the same quip I would, or do the thing I was urging them to do. Again, maybe one or both of us is unoriginal, but I had a lot of fun.
This dude is so ready to chop up some mafia guys, or superintelligent sharks.
Eventually our family man decides that risking extradimensional arthropods is preferable to being sacrificed to the corn god by the Jeebus freak and her surprisingly impressionable congregation. The last remaining likable characters have to overcome the knife-weilding bible thumpers, go out into the bug-infested mist, and in yet another scene capturing our modern day anxieties, try to find the car in the parking lot. From then on we're in Romero territory, where the chances of escaping the atmosphere of dread fade into the increasing likelihood of a bummer ending. Whether or not there will be a sequel is irrelevant, since another movie like this is almost certainly being made somewhere, right now. And I like those odds.