‘Who’s laughing now?’
October 24, 2008Last night, in the spirit of the season (so to speak), I curled up on the couch under a blankie to watch Evil Dead.
In the dark.
By myself.
For me, that is the ideal way to watch a horror film. ‘Cause, for me, it’s all about that wide-eyed sense of creeping dread—ears perked for any untoward groan from the floor boards or thumps from the crawlspace, scratches at the doors or windows or rustling in the bushes at the side of the house—that I get when I watch a horror film in the dark by myself. Not so much in a cinema with a crowd of people… although I must admit one of my most memorable experiences at the cinema was sitting in a sold-out audience for a midnight screening of Neil Marshall’s The Descent at the Tower Theatre during Sundance ’06. I’d finished my volunteer shift for the evening, handed my headset back to the theatre manager, and settled into a seat near the front of the room. The crowd was a blast—in fact, the way he screamed I’m pretty sure the guy sitting behind me left a stain in his chair. As scary as the film was, I think he mighta scared me more. I found out later, from an acquaintance in LA, that that screening is infamous amongst certain folk in the film industry. So, yeah, I guess I can admit that sometimes it’s more fun to watch a horror film with others. There’s certainly more release of tension that way. When I watch a horror film in the dark by myself, that release of tension isn’t nearly as palpable. It lingers. Uncomfortably. I will creep down the hallway on the balls of my feet at bedtime and huddle with my head under the covers to go to sleep (because, as everyone knows, hiding underneath the covers is magic protection from monsters). Someday, perhaps, I will grow out of this phase. Hope dims, however.
As for why I enjoy that sorta thing, well, you’d hafta talk to my therapist about that.
Anyhow, I’ve seen Evil Dead so many times I couldn’t give you a count. It’s a personal favourite of mine but one I only recently bought on dvd. It still manages to creep the fuck outta me with those frantic low angle tracking shots through the woods…
And those freaky shots of the undead Linda sitting there in the doorway, giggling manaically…
**shiver**
Exquisite!
A coupla months ago, Aaron and I went to see Evil Dead: The Musical at the Diesel Theatre in Toronto.
We caught it shortly before it closed and sat in the first row beyond the splatter zone. We wanted to book splatter zone seats but they were all taken. Turns out it hardly mattered… They underestimate the depth of the zone–by one row. I was sitting underneath a sprayer in the ceiling and it drenched me before I could even figure out where the hell the spray was coming from! I was just “Wha’fuck??” Aaron just sat there (mostly dry–the bastard!) and laughed. Fortunately, I’d been smart enough to wear my pre-blood-splattered Intramural Zombie Hunting League t-shirt to the show, so you couldn’t really tell.1
The musical is a crazy amalgam of the entire Evil Dead series and is going for laughs and gore without the scares. The songs are clever, the choreography looked physically exhausting, the script is hilariously camp, the entire cast’s energy and enthusiasm is infectious, and the effects are suitably gruesome. Terrific peformances all around but I do have to note that Ryan Ward, who plays Ash, bears a remarkable physical and vocal resemblance to film series star Bruce Campbell.2 It was a little eerie, actually. And, natch, I mean that in a good way. 
And, yeah, the folks in the splatter zone got it worse than we did. There was a couple sitting right in the centre of the front row and they got a bucket of grue thrown right at ‘em. Kersplat, right in the kisser. They were dripping from head to toe when I saw them in the lobby, later. The blood thrown from the stage was goopier than the simple red water that was sprayed all the hell over me. So, y’know, small mercies are in play here.
If you never get a chance to see it live onstage, well, the next best thing is coming: a 3D film version.
1 Well, it did sorta freak out someone we ran into at the Ex afterwards (where I discovered, sadly, that I can now add The Zipper to the list of midway rides I can no longer ride in my advancing age, *urp*)… She came right up to me–a perfect stranger–and pulled the front of my jacket opened and cawed, “Omigawd, who did you kill?!?”
2 Next month, Kelly and I are going to one of the Detroit dates in the My Name Is Bruce promo tour. Oooh, and The Man Hisself is gonna be there for a Q&A afterwards! **whoop**
If you aren’t too picky about picture quality, you can watch Evil Dead here (in 9 parts) and Evil Dead II here (in 10 parts).
