Drag Me To Hell
Can a late review encourage anyone still waiting to finally buy a ticket? I hope so. Not only is DMTH a lot more fun than most films of its kind it actually spoke to me in its own odd way about something near and dear to my heart. Many of my friends who’ve seen it say the same thing. At the heart of our response isn't just the chill that runs up and down our spines when we imagine what would happen if we were cursed but why a curse is an eternal thing that can't just be blithely passed on to someone else because you think they are more evil than you are. It seems a message especially fit for our self righteous age.
Button, Button Who’s Got The Button might be an even more apt title for Sam Raimis much anticipated return to the horror film but then again Drag Me To Hell gives you a better idea of what to expect in case you’re unfamiliar with his previous stuff. Make sure to keep a lookout though. As much of a roller coaster ride as this film is, as far as Raimi’s willing to go for a gag,(both figurative and literal) he does so at the service of an important idea and he’s using a well known storytelling form to explore it.
At its heart the tale of the conte cruel has been around a long time. The French term refers to a tale which culminates in just desserts, a character getting exactly what they deserve, served up cold as the grave. It’s a cautionary storytelling form. The audience is meant to take away more than just simple chills, or a casual feeling of self righteous glee (ooh I’m so glad he got his!). Instead the tale of the conte cruel reminds us that justice is blind and that whatever you believe runs the cosmos (I opt for a loving but holy God) the reach of that justice is inevitable. It must be faced. This is what renders the idea of the conte cruel so terrifying when done well. The very idea of coming under any sort of judgement horrifies anyone. It may be satisfying to watch the other guy get his but it’s a reminder that deep down we know what would happen if we came under the same sort of judgement. And, in fact, someday, whether we are repentant or not, we will. You don’t have to be religious to believe this stuff or at the very least to find yourself made uneasy by it. The desire for and fear of justice just seems built into the very fabric of human nature. And whether you believe that arises from biology, social pressures or a divine architect whose nature is reflected in his creation, the judgements that are part of these stories are more often than not the stuff of stomach turning nightmares.
The form probably has its clearest singular mass media example in the EC horror comic of the 1950’s. Titles like Tales From The Crypt, Haunt of Fear and Vault of Horror provoked such outrage for their outrageously violent illustrations that they were quickly banished from shelves nationwide as result of pressure put on the industry by parent groups, demagogues and finally the rest of the comic publishing world which saw a chance to silence the newcomers and get the buyers focus back on Superheroes. But however gross the horror comics were, they were they were chock full of exactly the same sort of tales (in some cases the exact same tales) as the popular folklore of the previous century. Vengeful ghosts, adulterous spouses, murders, betrayals, swindles, beheadings, ghoulerie, and monsters of all kinds have been served up as supernatural slapstick since the first campfire. All EC did was serve it up in a new medium.
From there the conte cruel has grown along with mass media to further establish itself as a staple of the American pop cultural expression adopted so widely, in fact, that the idea of someone getting theirs in a nice little twist of irony simply seems part-and-parcel of the way any story should end. In Raimis hands however the form emerges as capable of carrying a wallop that has as much to do with the internal logic of the story than the grotesque visuals he slathers the screen with during money shots.
Pick up one of those old comics and you tend to find pretty harsh lines drawn to help define the good guys from the bad. And that’s what we all want, right? Of course. After all, we’re the good guys and watching what happens to the bad guys in these stories give us a catharsis that anti-comics crusader Frederick Wertham and his crotchety league of blue haired old prudes never dreamed of. But Raimi draws his line elsewhere. At first glance Drag Me To Hell is full of peripheral characters who are by turns petty, mean spirited, back stabbing and spineless as well as other characters who seem to personify goodness. But Raimi shows them all to be more complex and more troubling than they would be given credit for in lesser hands.
Young Christine has a nice life. Good job with prospects for advancement. Great boyfriend from wealthy well connected background. And most of all she is by most estimations a nice person. But when the promotion she has been wanting collides with her impulse towards compassion she finds herself denying a loan to the wrong person. Mrs Ganush is a gypsy not only terrified of losing her home of over thirty years but very sensitive to the sort of public shaming that occurs when she begs on her hands and knees for a loan extension from the ambitious Christine. Soon after a savage attack in the parking garage, during which Ganush curses her, Christine begins having strange visions, things start flying around of their own accord in her house and with the help of a psychic she realizes what we already know, a demon has been granted power to take her down to hell leaving her only three days to appease or banish him.
What ensues is pure Raimi, glorious not only in its intensity but in its gleefulness and has fans all over the country currently unable to decide whether to retch, laugh, or throw their hands over their eyes. You’ll probably find yourself doing all three....and quite possibly repeating the experience with friends that haven’t seen it before. Drag Me To Hell is that fun and that worth seeing on the big screen more than once. Even with the films depressed box office it has received an endless series of glowing reviews. It’s a pity it hasn’t gotten the attention of more mainstream viewers.
Everyone in this movie seems at first glance a stereotype but to a purpose. The phlegm spewing gypsy crone, Mrs Ganush with her bad eye, inexplicably fang-like cracked and stained dentures and ability to visit supernatural evil on her victims would be intolerably inappropriate, even racist, were it not for the simple fact that she is barely more-or-less evil than many of the less flamboyant characters in the film. And Raimi isn’t indulging some private misanthropy. The wicked Mrs Ganush really is also a desperate old woman, back stabbing co-worker, Stu really is pitiably beyond contempt in his willingness to do anything to get ahead, milquetoast boyfriend Clay who can’t stand up to his parents to defend his choices in life really is generous and loving, and Christine our supposedly innocent heroine is well.... I have to be careful not to give too much away. Let’s just say that stereotypes can be used to tell stories without necessarily having to cause offense because, at least in this instance, if Mrs Ganush is everyones nightmare of the old Gypsy witch then Christine is hardly an innocent waif lost in the woods. She has been cursed and when given the opportunity to simply embrace judgement and evil inside of herself what it really is she seeks to transfer her punishment on to someone else. She is even more blind than the one eyed Ganush.
Lorna Raver has the time of her life playing Mrs. Ganush, delivering an iconic performance and dealing with the psychotic physicality of Mrs. Ganush without turning her into a non threatening cartoon. Instead she becomes exactly what Raimi seems to have intended. There are laughs a plenty here with Raimis well known penchant for Three Stooges slapstick on full display. But there is also a sense of danger, and occasionally a humanity on display. It’s almost as if Raimi is saying that it’s okay to ride his cinematic rollercoaster but we should remember that it’s railed to something very real, a universe where good and evil are absolutes and judgement the descent we all must take.
Raimi makes great use of the unseen to help us experience Christines fear. Shadows of impossibly horned beings creep along walls, and even a seemingly harmless but ultimately malevolent hankie offer needed creeps just when you think that the gross nature of the almost constant sight gags will reduce everything into mere parody. He also makes use of his famous Impala and offers plenty of nods to the Evil Dead series. The only thing missing was a Bruce Campbell cameo.
