Hollywood's sure getting trigger happy with their slasher remakes these days. We had The Hitcher, Alexandre Aja's The Hills Have Eyes (followed by it's shit-tacular sequel), Rob Zombie's Halloween, The Last House on the Left (notice that a lot of these are for Wes "kill me now" Craven movies?), and of course butt leach Michael Bay's "awesome" remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (and it's own shit-tacular prequel) and next month's Friday the 13th. Speaking of Friday the 13th, that brings us to today's Shortie for My Bloody Valentine 3D.
For anybody wondering why Lionsgate would release their third dimension remake of the cult '80s holiday theme slasher a month before the holiday it "celebrates", it turns out that New Line's putting out their F13 flick on the first Friday the 13th of 2009... in February. So, rather than compete directly with a bigger production company's remake of a much better known slasher staple, the 'Gate folks went the safer route and set their lackluster release date a month early. If February 13th were the only Friday the 13th in 2009 I could go along with it, but with TWO other such dates (including one a mere 4 weeks later in MARCH) in the year, I have one more petty reason not to see the latest Michael Bay cash in on somebody else's intellectual property. You know, like the way Albert Einstein stole the Theory of Relativity, or George Bush and Dick Chaney stole the idea of gradually destroying our county from Osama Bin Laden...
Harry Warden used to work for the Hanniger Mining Company in the small town of Harmony, until he was trapped in a cave-in. Rather than let the other 4 or 5 men trapped with him suck up all of his oxygen, HW opted instead to plant his pick-axe through each of their skulls. When he was eventually dug out, Mr. Warden was brought to pay for his crimes, but slipped into a coma and was kept at the local hospital... until Valentine's Day, when he snapped out of said coma and snapped into a Slim Jim... a Slim Jim of pure, uncut, sugar frosted crazy. Captain Batshit butchered, dismembered, and disemboweled some of his fellow patients and a handful of the hospital staff in a carnival of gore that would've made a Kodiak bear on PCP look like a kitten playing in a shoe box in comparison. Escaping, Harry made his way back to his former job site, suited himself up, and pick-axed a posse of former co-workers who were there to drink and party... or "par-tay". The intended drunken debauchery and unsafe sex of the evening thus gave way to popped eyeballs, severed heads, and carnage the likes of which would've pitched Hannibal Lecter's pup tent, no unlike Alyssa Milano gettin' all college lesbo "experimental" in Embrace of the Vampire does mine.
Harry would eventually be gunned down by the local police force, including Sheriff Burke. One of the survivor's of Harry's gorgy was the mine owner's son, Tom Hanniger. Likely traumatized by the event, Tom soon left Harmony to find a life elsewhere in the world where crazy guys in gas masks wouldn't be trying to give him vasectomies with mining equipment. 10 years later though, after his dad's death, Tom returns to Harmony as the sole heir of the Hanniger Mining Company, ready to sell off the family business and put the darkest chapter of his life behind him... even though it means the certain doom of the mine's employees and pretty much the economic apocalypse of the entire town of Harmony. Speaking of the people of Harmony, is seems that Tom's old flame Sarah has married the current town sheriff and former Tom nemesis Axel, and the two have settled into the family life with their son Noah... and probably the only housekeeper in the entire bumblefuck 'burg. Along with Tom's reappearance though comes the reappearance of a certain gas mask wearing, pick-axe swinging serial killer who hasn't been heard of since disappearing after his initial kill-fair on Valentine's Day a decade prior. Yep, it looks like Harry's back and ready to tie up those loose strings he left behind those many years ago... like not getting to kill Tom!
On the plus side, the writers of our remake have adjusted just enough so that fans of the original MBV can enjoy tips of the hat to some notable moments of the prior movie without getting too lazy and just dressing up the same flick in a shiny new jumpsuit. For instance, the graphic drier death, "killer busting light bulbs in the mine" stuff, and "laundry room of dropping jumpsuits" scene get the remake treatment, but the characters take different parts. Harry Warden plays a more direct role in the cast's traumatic pasts rather than just being a local bogeyman, and despite sharing the same title, the Valentine's Day connection is played down in this movie... way down... to the point that it's no longer relevant to the story, but simply used as an excuse for hearts to get ripped out and stuffed into candy boxes. It's a little disheartening (*nyuk*nyuk*) from the standpoint of somebody who likes a little holiday chicanery with his slasher movies, but there are two things that make up for this: Tom Atkins and 3-D glasses.
I love Tom Atkins. I love to get the chance to see the man on a big screen and getting what I'm hoping was at least some semblance of a mainstream payday. The man's awesome. Though not as integral in this role as he was in Halloween III or Night of the Creeps, the old man can still kick ass and hog the spotlight from the cast's younger, less charismatic members when he's on camera. Go Tom! If I could, I'd ditch most of my current collection of movies and just go on the Atkins diet... All I ask is that you not throw anything with sharp edges. I'm still aching from the scratched cornea I received from my last pun... you might say I'm a little pun-ch drunk... Ow! Damn it, I just said NO SHARP THINGS!
As for the 3-D? Holy shit. I mean, having a cheesy slasher movie that knows it's a cheesy slasher movie and embraces that it's a cheesy slasher movie (without giving in to parody) is a good start on the path to a grand bad movie experience, especially when you add Tom Atkins to your Margarita mix and put it in the hands of Lionsgate and a small name cast. But when you put the WHOLE movie into 3 dimensions and give your audience something special to experience? Well, like I just said, "holy shit". It actually makes the extra couple of bucks worth it. Hollywood, in case your underground spy network is reading this, PUT EVERY MOVIE INTO 3-D. It's a gimmick, yes, but consider this: I don't go to the movies anymore because the internet has assured me that I can now watch movies without spending a dime. I didn't even see The Dark Knight because I know people who had a DVD quality copy of it on their hard drives within a few weeks of its theatrical release. You want to figure out how to stop people from stealing your money and watching your products without paying you for the privilege? PUT EVERY MOVIE INTO 3-D. I shit you not. I'd even go see Sex In the City if it meant seeing Kim Cattrall's 30ft titties shoved into my face. Yes, Kim Cattrall. I don't care if she's in her fifties. Give me a bottle of KY and a Craftmatic and I'll give grandma a full body shimmer that'll outshine any fruity, baseball playing, bloodsucking, high school queef-burger vampire!
And so, despite living in times of desperate economic hardship here and abroad, I suggest that slasher fans take back your empty Miller Lite cans and get thee to a nunnery... by which I mean a cineplex. Without the 3-D I'd have to give My Bloody Valentine a slightly lower rating, but when you're having giant pick-axes, eyeballs, tree branches, gun barrels, exploding debris, fireballs, and giggling t&a being thrown at you with a constant pace, you've gotta love it... unless you've long since raped and strangled your inner child like some uncaring monster and cool shit like 3-D movies don't tickle your fancy anymore. As for everybody in the theater that saw this with me? They loved it. Just the turning gears of the Lionsgate company intro brought shock and awe to the crowd. That's fucking magic. And if the box office returns are good enough, the ending is typical "wide open for a sequel" fare, so maybe we'll get to see that magic again someday soon.
Moral of the Story: Don't fuck with nine-fingered miners named Red.
