I really enjoyed Anna Adams "My Life In Horror: Creepshow." In fact, I think this is one of the best reviews of this film I've seen. It's both energetic and personal. In fact, the review alone makes me want to watch the film again.
Originally posted
HERE. She graciously allowed me to repost her article here. THANK YOU!
Adams writes about film and television and is admirer of all things Kubrick, Tarantino, and LOST. She received her BA in Cinema Studies from The University of Minnesota.
You're gonna like this. . .
MY LIFE IN HORROR: CREEPSHOW
I saw the box for this film back when Terry's Holiday Market in Olivia was still Tersteeg's, and had a VHS selection for rental at the front of the store. Now that I think about it, it was an extremely effective setup for parents---instead of begging for candy bars, we'd always just bolt over to the videos to check out the boxes, and this one was a jackpot. I wanted to see it simply on the strength of the front cover: the little theater skeleton hanging out of the box office, cautioning us, "the most fun you'll ever have . . . BEING SCARED!" I have to agree; this film is seriously one of the most fun in my collection.
Creepshow, 1982. Directed by George Romaro
Comics! This is a collection of short stories written by Stephen King, directed by George Romaro, done in comic-book style. Could there be anything better? The structuring of each of the five stories was great, especially how each scene was illustrated, in comic format, and then faded in exactly, with the actors and setting matching the comic perfectly. Every now and then there's a comic-style wipe or dissolve--- it's crafty. The casting was excellent with many respectable actors taking part (Hal Holbrook, Fritz Weaver, Leslie Nielsen, a young Ed Harris just to name a few) and music was perfect, especially the eerie and emotional piano instrumentals. This is a well-written, entertaining (and yes, occasionaly frightening) experience, this film. Since it's composed of five short story segments, let's just break each one down, shall we?
Father's Day: An overwhelmed Bedelia bashes her father's head in with an ashtray on father's day; Father comes back from the grave gargling up dirt, insisting, "I want my cake." For superficial reasons, I really liked this. I always thought Cass, the niece with the brown, permed hair, white jeans, shirt opened three buttons and lots of necklaces, was extremely pretty. Her dancing? Not as pretty, but bad, eighties, and fun ("Don't let go, don't let go, don't let go!") Ed Harris meets an unfortunate end but I really loved the splat sound the grave made when it plopped on him. Nice seeing some of his early work. And the fact that the rotten old father-corpse really did just want a cake, and used the other aunt's head for it, complete with frosting and candles? I wonder if all child-horror fans giggled as much as my brother and I did over it . . . "It's Father's Day, and I GOT MY CAKE!"
The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill: Man finds meteor in back yard, touches it, and turns into a weed. I know this wasn't the best in the bunch, but there are some good things about it. For one, I thought King was just fine in his role, he was a goofy dork, just like he was supposed to be! My very favorite scenes in this were some of the lines, "I'll be dipped in shit if that ain't a meteor!" and "METEOR SHIT!" Also the imagined antics in the doctor's office (after his fingers start to turn green) make me giggle every time. That doctor, wheeling by on the stool? "This is going to be
extremely painful, Mr. Verrill" running his finger up the blade of the knife, and the random skeleton just hovering around on its own, apparently also on wheels? It was fun (for a while). Ending is kind of sad, but what else was going to happen with a title like that?
Something to Tide You Over: Husband punishes his cheating wife and lover by burying them in the sand at high tide. Fine, I guess. Good use of "Camptown Races" in a minor key, and giving a murderer his come-uppance, but probably my least favorite of all of them. The part where Harry (Ted Danson) is shown under water, holding his breath, has always been disturbing for me. Really, you let someone talk you into burying yourself up to the chin in sand? That had to be a little claustrophobic, even acting it. On an unrelated note, sometimes it's hard for me to accept Leslie Nielsen as anything other than Frank Drebbin, despite having played some real a-holes in his career. The scene where Nielsen is at home, anticipating and jumping at noises has always been difficult for me to watch---being home alone is still one of my very least favorite things, especially at night (even though I haven't ever buried anyone in the sand).
The Crate: An ancient hell-monkey is found in a crate; it starts eating everyone.
This one
terrified me the first time I watched it. In fact, I'm quite sure that my brother, my best friend, and I watched this right up to janitor getting gobbled and then shut it off, unable to go any further with it. Granted, I was probably ten, but I still remember being rattled to hell. And while I do still find it scary, I really got into the whole nagging wife aspect (personified by Adrienne Barbeau) this time around ---"just call me Billy, everyone does!"--- thinking that this idea had to have been born from a random experience of King's concerning some professor's horrid wife and what in the name of God could he do to be free of her? (!) I dug it. There's some nice acting in this one, and the players really had great chemistry together. "He wanted to examine the bite marks . . . I GUESS HE GOT HIS CHAAAAAAAAANCE!!!!"
They're Creeping Up on You: An unpleasant man in a germ-proof apartment is carried away by a not entirely undeserved roach infestation. Again, not the strongest selection in the group, but a worthy one, I think. Not a great experience for claustrophobics, though. Or probably any other phobics, come to think of it. Roaches are awful, even in the damned gutter, but inside your cereal box? (shudder). What I liked best about this is something extremely random, but the way everyone's voices were so distinctive and different. The wife of the man who shot himself on the telephone, she kind of sounded like Ann Margaret or Phyllis Diller maybe, sharp, raspy, and angry . . . and the maintenance man, slow and smooth, through the peep hole in the door; "Oh
y e s, Mr. Pratt!" E.G. Marshall was perfectly cast. Can't think of a worse way to die, though. "What happened, bugs got your tongue?" (spastic shudder).
Beheadings, overgrown weeds, drownings, maniacal monkeys, and roaches. There really is something for every horror fan in this collection, and I highly recommend it. Also (just found this out today), the casting of Little Billy, the child in the film's opening whose comic these stories are taken from, is quite interesting. Do you suppose scary stories had any effect on *that* particular actor . . . (?!)
