A scant year after A Nightmare on Elm Street 3, the Russell/Darabont writing team is back for this surpringly good remake of the 1958 drive-in classic that contains many twists on the dated premise. You know the story: a monstrous blob crashes on Earth inside a meteor and menaces to devour a small American community which an illustrious teenage hero must save. This time, both the blob and the teenage hero are back but their backgrounds are totally different. Unconvincingly enough, the glutonous man-eating monster is now a biological weapon created by American scientists to win the arms race with the U.S.S.R., which was in such a bad shape at the time that many of its satellite countries abandoned communism and Russia itself neared economic collapse. But although it's pretty unlikely that American R&D would require the sacrifice of an entire town to beat a kneeling enemy, such an apocalyptic meta-narrative taps into deep-rooted popular fears and offers some exciting action involving rocket launchers, assault rifles, unmarked trucks and flying motorcycles. Because that's what the hero rides: a motorcycle. You see, the Steve McQueen jock character actually dies early on (during an eye-popping embrace with the blob) and it's up to long-haired, cigarette-smoking greaser Kevin Dillon to save the day. And he's even got the though cheerleader with him (who is played by 18 year-old Shawnee Smith who's positively prettier and more wholesome here than as the repentant drug-addict/serial-killer from the Saw films). Finally, relevant updates in a remake! And what about those mildly rebel kids who sneak in to see Garden Tool Massacre, the generic slasher now featured during the classic movie theater blob attack? It's perfect! And perfectly campy too! The basic story may be standard 1950s fare, but the film definitely feels 1980s with its nasty, imaginative gore, elaborate special effects and action scenes, as well as its shameless (but tame) onscreen killing of a ten-year old boy! The Blob is a fun film that revels in artifice. But it also benefits from a savvy, funny script featuring engaging characters and situations.
This Blob features everything you could possibly want from a grade-B monster movie. It's got an elaborate setting that's homely and full of nicely-fleshed characters, most enticing of all being the two underdog heroes (Smith's cheerleader is particularly strong for such a "prize" female character). It's got plenty of stunts and action involving motorcycles, bombs, guys jumping from moving trucks, blown-up government property, monster pursuits, government agents unloading entire clips of ammo on teenage civilians, and a blasting grand finale set in city streets filled with screaming onlookers. It's got effective humor to boot, but most of all: it's got inventive, gory, and tension-filled "kill" scenes. The blob being what it is, it's got endless possibilities for mayhem. It clings to skin, to walls and ceilings, it squeezes through pipes and drains and grows to envelop structures and people, extending prehensible tentacles all the while. Thankfully, all of those possibilities are exploited to their fullest by using tension instead of cheap surprises. You always know where the blob is in relation to the characters, you just don't know when it is going to strike and what exact damage it's going to do. Expectation makes the film exhilarating, while the superior (but sometimes slightly unconvincing) special effects make the monster more "life-like" than it's ever been. If the opening credits designed à la Terminator are any indication, movie-magic has come to small town, USA to disrupt, but also to amaze its peaceful inhabitants.
But here's an example of what makes this film so irresistible. An early scene in which two jock friends are getting ready for their dates by purchasing condoms at the pharmacy. Scott, the horny jock borrows money from Paul, the candid jock, by digging into his wallet, then charges toward the counter, shouting to the uptight pharmacist: "Uh, look, pal, gimme a pack of Trojans and a Binaca spray". In the same motion (and the same tracking shot), he nears the sunglasses stand and grabs a pair. While he tries them on, the town reverend appears right behind him and warmly congratulates him on his "game". A very unconfortable exchange of platitudes ensues, which is brutally interrupted just when the reverend confesses his disapointment with Scott for not attending Sunday services. The pharmacist appears smack in the middle of a three shot holding two boxes of condoms inbetween his thumbs and indexes. "You want the ribbed or the regular" he asks the jock who nervously glimpses at the reverend and makes this awkward reply: "Ribbed..., he says in a shattering voice, I guess. They're not for me you know. They're for my friend!". Grabbing the opportunity with both hands, he points toward Paul who holds a magazine, and makes impatient gestures toward him. "There's this sort of naive girl that he's planning on... well, you know, he confides to the reverend. And I... I insisted he takes precautions". "Why doesn't he pay for them?" candidly asks the cashier, ignorant of the fact that he actually is. "I had to drag him down here as it is, says Scott in an exasperated tone. The guy is totally irresponsable". As if to purposefully grant credibility to his friend's lies, Paul exclaims: "What's the hold-up, Scott? I can't keep this girl waiting!" The cashier then looks at him in dismay and sternly mutters: "Boy doesn't need condoms. He needs a muzzle" while making angry noises with a paper bag. Smooth-talking Scott has done it: he has dishonestly saved his honor by dragging his friend in the mud. And obviously, the story doesn't end there. Because the law of scenaristic probabilities make it necessary for the father of Paul's date to be the uptight pharmacist. So, before they head out together, Meg asks Paul to meet his father, which he immediately accepts to do. They trek through the house toward the living room, where the father is sitting in an armchair, his face hidden by a newspaper. When Meg introduces Paul, he puts down his newspaper and offers the young man a warm smile. But the instant he recognizes the "irresponsible" young man from earlier, his traits tighten and he just says, in the most affected voice possible: "Ribbed." Cut. I don't think there could've been a better way to end this scene, than with this simple word that says it all and actually makes you imagine a way crunchier follow-up than anything anybody could have ever filmed. It's teenage awkwardness materialized, which is an overlooked necessity for such horror films. Bravo!
A few scenes (and a few gruesome deaths) later, we are happily reunited with Scott Jeske's antics as he desperately tries to make his arduous condoms purchase worthwhile in what can only be described as a bachelor pad on wheels. His hammered date is oblivious to his advances so he decides to mix her yet another one of his patented strawberry drinks from his impressive trunk/bar. While he's busy doing so, we can see the blob crawl underneath the car, readying a nasty surprise for the "immoral" couple. When Scott comes back into the driver's seat, he finds his date asleep (actually, she is now a deflated, blob-filled carcass). But this only entices the adventurous young man further. He closes in on "sleeping" beauty, whispering a conqueror's words in her ears and very much ogling her breasts, eventually giving them some air by unbuttoning the lady's shirt. Ah! So rare to see such a date-rapist character, and so refreshing! After all, that's another awkward thing about teenagehood: sex with sleeping girls. So why not use it to set-up an awesome kill? Because of the dubious morality of such a scene? Fuck morality! It's not a sermon we're watching here, but an horror film. At least, Russell and company understood that. So, thank you, guys!
3/5 An impeccable B monster movie.
It could be anybody agonizing under there, but it's actually Steve McQueen's character!
This Blob features everything you could possibly want from a grade-B monster movie. It's got an elaborate setting that's homely and full of nicely-fleshed characters, most enticing of all being the two underdog heroes (Smith's cheerleader is particularly strong for such a "prize" female character). It's got plenty of stunts and action involving motorcycles, bombs, guys jumping from moving trucks, blown-up government property, monster pursuits, government agents unloading entire clips of ammo on teenage civilians, and a blasting grand finale set in city streets filled with screaming onlookers. It's got effective humor to boot, but most of all: it's got inventive, gory, and tension-filled "kill" scenes. The blob being what it is, it's got endless possibilities for mayhem. It clings to skin, to walls and ceilings, it squeezes through pipes and drains and grows to envelop structures and people, extending prehensible tentacles all the while. Thankfully, all of those possibilities are exploited to their fullest by using tension instead of cheap surprises. You always know where the blob is in relation to the characters, you just don't know when it is going to strike and what exact damage it's going to do. Expectation makes the film exhilarating, while the superior (but sometimes slightly unconvincing) special effects make the monster more "life-like" than it's ever been. If the opening credits designed à la Terminator are any indication, movie-magic has come to small town, USA to disrupt, but also to amaze its peaceful inhabitants.
But here's an example of what makes this film so irresistible. An early scene in which two jock friends are getting ready for their dates by purchasing condoms at the pharmacy. Scott, the horny jock borrows money from Paul, the candid jock, by digging into his wallet, then charges toward the counter, shouting to the uptight pharmacist: "Uh, look, pal, gimme a pack of Trojans and a Binaca spray". In the same motion (and the same tracking shot), he nears the sunglasses stand and grabs a pair. While he tries them on, the town reverend appears right behind him and warmly congratulates him on his "game". A very unconfortable exchange of platitudes ensues, which is brutally interrupted just when the reverend confesses his disapointment with Scott for not attending Sunday services. The pharmacist appears smack in the middle of a three shot holding two boxes of condoms inbetween his thumbs and indexes. "You want the ribbed or the regular" he asks the jock who nervously glimpses at the reverend and makes this awkward reply: "Ribbed..., he says in a shattering voice, I guess. They're not for me you know. They're for my friend!". Grabbing the opportunity with both hands, he points toward Paul who holds a magazine, and makes impatient gestures toward him. "There's this sort of naive girl that he's planning on... well, you know, he confides to the reverend. And I... I insisted he takes precautions". "Why doesn't he pay for them?" candidly asks the cashier, ignorant of the fact that he actually is. "I had to drag him down here as it is, says Scott in an exasperated tone. The guy is totally irresponsable". As if to purposefully grant credibility to his friend's lies, Paul exclaims: "What's the hold-up, Scott? I can't keep this girl waiting!" The cashier then looks at him in dismay and sternly mutters: "Boy doesn't need condoms. He needs a muzzle" while making angry noises with a paper bag. Smooth-talking Scott has done it: he has dishonestly saved his honor by dragging his friend in the mud. And obviously, the story doesn't end there. Because the law of scenaristic probabilities make it necessary for the father of Paul's date to be the uptight pharmacist. So, before they head out together, Meg asks Paul to meet his father, which he immediately accepts to do. They trek through the house toward the living room, where the father is sitting in an armchair, his face hidden by a newspaper. When Meg introduces Paul, he puts down his newspaper and offers the young man a warm smile. But the instant he recognizes the "irresponsible" young man from earlier, his traits tighten and he just says, in the most affected voice possible: "Ribbed." Cut. I don't think there could've been a better way to end this scene, than with this simple word that says it all and actually makes you imagine a way crunchier follow-up than anything anybody could have ever filmed. It's teenage awkwardness materialized, which is an overlooked necessity for such horror films. Bravo!
A few scenes (and a few gruesome deaths) later, we are happily reunited with Scott Jeske's antics as he desperately tries to make his arduous condoms purchase worthwhile in what can only be described as a bachelor pad on wheels. His hammered date is oblivious to his advances so he decides to mix her yet another one of his patented strawberry drinks from his impressive trunk/bar. While he's busy doing so, we can see the blob crawl underneath the car, readying a nasty surprise for the "immoral" couple. When Scott comes back into the driver's seat, he finds his date asleep (actually, she is now a deflated, blob-filled carcass). But this only entices the adventurous young man further. He closes in on "sleeping" beauty, whispering a conqueror's words in her ears and very much ogling her breasts, eventually giving them some air by unbuttoning the lady's shirt. Ah! So rare to see such a date-rapist character, and so refreshing! After all, that's another awkward thing about teenagehood: sex with sleeping girls. So why not use it to set-up an awesome kill? Because of the dubious morality of such a scene? Fuck morality! It's not a sermon we're watching here, but an horror film. At least, Russell and company understood that. So, thank you, guys!
The blob effects alone make the film worthwhile, but it's
the engaging characters that make a real hoot.
the engaging characters that make a real hoot.
3/5 An impeccable B monster movie.
