I had heard much about this movie (who hasn't???) and had been impressed with what I'd heard. Fright without gore, film without script, eerie without special effects that cost more money than it takes to feed a small country for five years. I liked that. I was really looking forward to seeing this. In fact, I was so pumped about this movie, that I bought it for myself without watching it first. I have never done that in my life. Just thought I'd let ya know. I had planned to watch this movie on Halloween night, but unfortunately, it didn't work out that way, so my husband and I watched it about four days later. Here are the results, for anyone who cares to know:
My husband fell asleep half-way through it, and when he finally did see the end, he didn't seem all that affected.
I almost had a heart attack by the end of the film, and was not able to sleep for the following two nights.
Therein lies the problem with this (in my opinion) wonderful movie.
I was reading through the reviews on this page before I decided to add my humble opinion, and it would appear that about 90% of you feel that you have been royally ripped off and that you deserved better than this movie for the amount of money you spent on the movie tickets, popcorn, cola, and gargantuan chocolate bars you consumed in your boredom. I am not surprised by this reaction. After seeing this movie, I actually expected it.
Most horror movie fans are used to being visually splattered with gore, and being audibly goosed by high violins and loud bass (not to mention being visually tantalized by young starlets in barely-there clothing screaming before being sliced into chicken salad). Those of you used to this sort of horror are accustomed to seeing all of the action, knowing who the bad guy is (or knowing that there IS a bad guy), watching the blood spurt all over the screen, and generally having a gay ol' time at the expense of the poor folk retching in the back row. Scares are bloody, fright is gory, fear is something that is associated with a sharp instrument, lots of violins, jumping out of nowhere so as to slice up some pretty young filly (or handsome young stud, now -- see? Women's lib IS making a difference!) with gratuitous use of blood bags, special effects, snappy editing, and sheep's intestines. This is not a bad thing, only different. My husband is one of you. My theory is that this is the reason my husband and you were napping in your seats and throwing popcorn at screen when the inconclusive ending made it's fateful appearance.
I, however, am one of those sensitive souls who feel queasy at the sight of a paper cut. I am unable to watch "Paramedics", or even "M*A*S*H", due to the danger of seeing some form of blood, dismemberment, or mutilation on the screen. I admit it, I'm a wimp. I am not ashamed of this, but it, unfortunately, means that I am unable to be scared in the way that I wish. The sort of horror movies that I like haven't been made since Hitchcock died. I prefer my horror to be performed offscreen. I find my imagination is more terrifying than ANYTHING that modern movie-magic gurus can possibly create. All I need is a scene of a closed door, in a dark hallway, and to hear a person screaming on the other side of it, to keep me awake for days to come. I can only imagine what sort of horrors that poor individual is experiencing -- imagining them is much more terrible. If I SAW them, I would spend the rest of the movie in the bathroom tossing up my popcorn, thereby wasting $7 on a movie ticket. This is why this movie affected me so. A dark night in a forest, alone in a tent with no supplies or weapons, and you can distinctly hear voices and screaming, the high-pitched laughter of children, the cracking of twigs under unseen feet...I dare anyone to tell me that if it were them, they would not be peeing in their jeans. And as for the reviewers who feel the emotion of the three characters is out of place here, let me ask you this: you're lost in a forest for over three days, weird, unexplained things have been happening to you, night brings strange sounds, morning brings you signs that you're not alone out there...would you be a cool cucumber? Or would you be crying hysterically, holding yourself, rolled in a little ball and rocking back and forth, begging for God to deliver you out of this place? I find it hard to believe that anyone could honestly look me in the eye and tell me the former. You'd crack. You know you would. You're only human after all...horror fan or not.
My husband fell asleep half-way through it, and when he finally did see the end, he didn't seem all that affected.
I almost had a heart attack by the end of the film, and was not able to sleep for the following two nights.
Therein lies the problem with this (in my opinion) wonderful movie.
I was reading through the reviews on this page before I decided to add my humble opinion, and it would appear that about 90% of you feel that you have been royally ripped off and that you deserved better than this movie for the amount of money you spent on the movie tickets, popcorn, cola, and gargantuan chocolate bars you consumed in your boredom. I am not surprised by this reaction. After seeing this movie, I actually expected it.
Most horror movie fans are used to being visually splattered with gore, and being audibly goosed by high violins and loud bass (not to mention being visually tantalized by young starlets in barely-there clothing screaming before being sliced into chicken salad). Those of you used to this sort of horror are accustomed to seeing all of the action, knowing who the bad guy is (or knowing that there IS a bad guy), watching the blood spurt all over the screen, and generally having a gay ol' time at the expense of the poor folk retching in the back row. Scares are bloody, fright is gory, fear is something that is associated with a sharp instrument, lots of violins, jumping out of nowhere so as to slice up some pretty young filly (or handsome young stud, now -- see? Women's lib IS making a difference!) with gratuitous use of blood bags, special effects, snappy editing, and sheep's intestines. This is not a bad thing, only different. My husband is one of you. My theory is that this is the reason my husband and you were napping in your seats and throwing popcorn at screen when the inconclusive ending made it's fateful appearance.
I, however, am one of those sensitive souls who feel queasy at the sight of a paper cut. I am unable to watch "Paramedics", or even "M*A*S*H", due to the danger of seeing some form of blood, dismemberment, or mutilation on the screen. I admit it, I'm a wimp. I am not ashamed of this, but it, unfortunately, means that I am unable to be scared in the way that I wish. The sort of horror movies that I like haven't been made since Hitchcock died. I prefer my horror to be performed offscreen. I find my imagination is more terrifying than ANYTHING that modern movie-magic gurus can possibly create. All I need is a scene of a closed door, in a dark hallway, and to hear a person screaming on the other side of it, to keep me awake for days to come. I can only imagine what sort of horrors that poor individual is experiencing -- imagining them is much more terrible. If I SAW them, I would spend the rest of the movie in the bathroom tossing up my popcorn, thereby wasting $7 on a movie ticket. This is why this movie affected me so. A dark night in a forest, alone in a tent with no supplies or weapons, and you can distinctly hear voices and screaming, the high-pitched laughter of children, the cracking of twigs under unseen feet...I dare anyone to tell me that if it were them, they would not be peeing in their jeans. And as for the reviewers who feel the emotion of the three characters is out of place here, let me ask you this: you're lost in a forest for over three days, weird, unexplained things have been happening to you, night brings strange sounds, morning brings you signs that you're not alone out there...would you be a cool cucumber? Or would you be crying hysterically, holding yourself, rolled in a little ball and rocking back and forth, begging for God to deliver you out of this place? I find it hard to believe that anyone could honestly look me in the eye and tell me the former. You'd crack. You know you would. You're only human after all...horror fan or not.
Tell Your Friends