Connect with us

Reviews

[Review] ‘Ginger Snaps’ (2000) Is About as Perfect as Werewolf Movies Get

Brigitte and Ginger are sisters, trapped in the teenage wasteland of an Ontario suburb. Their fascination with death and sticking it to their classmates and family have made them outcasts. But when a revenge plot against a rival puts them in the path of a werewolf attack, Ginger’s mauling at the hands of the beast begins a metamorphosis of mind and body. As she peels away layers of her old self, she replaces them with something far more aggressive, while Brigitte fights to try and save her sister from the new thing she’s becoming.

Published

on

The simultaneous tragedy and comedy of growing up is a perfect match for the horror genre. The inherent fear, and liberation, of becoming a different person can be evoked with a lot of power when you pass it through the lens of the violent or the supernatural. Ginger Snaps is the film I’d consider the platonic ideal of exploring that experience, exploring the monstrous nature of change. Director John Fawcett and writer Karen Walton didn’t just make a fun teenage werewolf film where they easily could have; in my eyes, they made about as perfect of a werewolf movie as you can get.

Sisters, Suburbia, and a Savage Werewolf Attack in Ginger Snaps

Brigitte and Ginger are sisters, trapped in the teenage wasteland of an Ontario suburb. Their fascination with death and sticking it to their classmates and family have made them outcasts. But when a revenge plot against a rival puts them in the path of a werewolf attack, Ginger’s mauling at the hands of the beast begins a metamorphosis of mind and body. As she peels away layers of her old self, she replaces them with something far more aggressive, while Brigitte fights to try and save her sister from the new thing she’s becoming.

I was instantly sold on the idea of a grim coming-of-age story, adding lycanthropy to the already mortifying experience of puberty. But it isn’t until about a third of the way through that I realized how layered Ginger Snaps would really be. It buries the lead for the first 20 minutes, feeling more like a spread for a DIY goth photo zine as the plot gets set up. But after the actually horrific and very effective werewolf attack happens, the narrative gets a jumpstart with a pair of fur-covered jumper cables.

Hilarious Double Entendres and Sharp Social Satire in Ginger Snaps

There’s levity in spades thanks to the double entendre that is its whole plot, likening having your first period to a werewolf’s slow and painful transformation by moonlight (the symbolic strawberry shortcake gag that recurs in the film had me actually doubled over laughing when I first saw it). Ginger’s transformation is used for the obvious, to poke fun at teenage angst and the sexism you’re sort of just taught to accept at face value as you become a young adult, but it also cleverly puts some horrifying twists on formative experiences of youth. It also just has such well-rounded and enjoyable characters to spend the runtime watching that you can’t help but actively admire Walton’s writing in the back of your mind as it unfolds.

Obviously, I’m very late to the conversation of Jennifer’s Body being inspired at best and derivative at worst of Ginger Snaps. But in my opinion the tone, the plots, and most importantly the actual directing of the movies are so disparate that you’re likely not going to be bothered seeing the similarities. You might even find it entertaining to spot the parallels, although I felt like a little of the magic from Needy and Jennifer’s dynamic is dampened, knowing Snaps laid the perfect blueprint that Diablo Cody likely built heavily on. I suppose the key strength it has over Body is a script that feels more precise and clever, whereas Kusama’s film is more bluntly funny. Ginger Snaps is a lot subtler in its humor than the dialogue-driven jokes of its successor, relying on little acting quirks and one-liners that are drier than they are quippy.

Advertisement

The Heart of Ginger Snaps 

Of course, a great script doesn’t mean great performances. But in a stroke of luck, Emily Perkins and Katherine Isabelle are the perfect fit for their characters. I wouldn’t say they have the best on-screen chemistry the entire film, and some of their lines do come out awkward, but when they’re lashing out at each other as hormones explode and the stress of the dilemma melts their brains, they both play to their roles perfectly. They’re completely believable as sisters who love each other but can’t stand to exist around one another as they realize things aren’t how they used to be.

Perkins in particular is wonderfully wide-eyed and insane as she tries to roll with the punches of her sibling getting worse and worse, both physically and emotionally. You can totally understand how they made this a trilogy and instantly get why they are the heart of these movies. Perkins and Isabelle both carry the rare essence of feeling like they were born for their roles.

And despite all of the fun Ginger Snaps brings to the table in their rapport and its more violent and wild moments, it’s a film that plays everything straight. Sincerity abounds, a far cry from a lot of the tongue-in-cheek successors that played off its motifs and style. It has a harrowing ending that just drapes over you heavily as it unfolds. It uncoils and examines the previous hour and a half of wild horror movie you’ve been enjoying with a pure tragedy. It leaves you time to reflect on the dark nature of the absurd ordeal the sisters were put through. You move from a mostly suspenseful, if not lighthearted, movie into a ridiculously sad ending, one with a truly biting final shot that is genuinely as gorgeous as it is depressing.

A Timeless Exploration of Growth and Transformation

Although it seems redundant to say, Ginger Snaps isn’t just a neat film. This isn’t a special effects-driven roller coaster ride, although there is a profoundly talented group of special effects artists and sculptors here who put an immense amount of work into the actual werewolves of the film. Ginger Snaps above all else is a movie that evokes a quintessential feeling of living: the feeling of growth. The trepidation and dread of changing, transforming and looking back at the version of yourself you left behind. It examines what it means to watch those relationships change, struggle, and sometimes die with the person you’re becoming.

When a movie is able to achieve that kind of emotional resonance, I have to give it its flowers. A bouquet of roses (and maybe some monkshood for safety) is the least of the accolades Ginger Snaps deserves.   

Advertisement

Luis Pomales-Diaz is a freelance writer and lover of fantasy, sci-fi, and of course, horror. When he isn't working on a new article or short story, he can usually be found watching schlocky movies and forgotten television shows.

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Reviews

‘Iron Lung’ Review: Exceptionally Atmospheric Cosmic Horror

Published

on

As Iron Lung begins, the film places you in an overhead shot looking down at a submarine that’s seen better days. Jagged metal teeth of a broken cage sit at its head, illuminated by a light from the ship above that’s about to cut it loose. As you’re about to be dropped into a roiling ocean of blood, you become quickly invested in its story.

A dire paternal voiceover runs you through your place in the world as an observer: someone is being sent into the “waters” of a far-off moon in a dead, dark galaxy. They’re in search of an answer you’re automatically aware will never be enough and a penance they will never attain. It prompts an obvious, cutting question: if Hell is where we’re looking for an answer, how bad must things be among the stars to go searching there for hope?

A Surprising Outing for Writer and Director Mark Fischbach

The debut feature film of writer and director Mark Fischbach, better known to the internet at large as Markiplier, is as surprising as it is atmospheric. And no, not surprising because Fischbach is an internet personality crossing over into film. And no, not surprising because this is a video game adaptation that is actually quite good.

The surprise here is mainly from the way Fischbach dodges a number of first-time filmmaker torpedoes that would otherwise sink the film straight to the sea floor. It’s in the very clear coordination and trust he has with his cast and crew. In a way, the film itself is a mirror of the submersible his character is forced to pilot: flawed, surely, but strong enough to complete its mission and deliver an exceptional experience.

What Is Iron Lung About Exactly?

The story goes as follows: in the wake of an event called the Quiet Rapture, the stars themselves have been snuffed out. Most of the galaxy has been plunged into sudden darkness, and a mass dying off has consumed countless worlds (think the worst possible aftermath to The Nine Billion Names of God).

Advertisement

Convicted for a reprehensible crime, the convict Simon (played by Markiplier himself) has been given a rare opportunity to return to life among the survivors. The mission is to pilot a death trap of a one-man submarine into the blood oceans of an alien moon, looking for a scientific sample useful enough to earn his freedom. That is, assuming he doesn’t lose his mind or his life in the process.

Bespoke Set Design That Matches the Premise Perfectly

Iron Lung should be commended first and foremost for being a bottle film with the perfect set design to match. Not overly ambitious, but not too simplistic either. Contained in a marvel of a small space, the submarine here is a tactile nightmare of rusty metal and antiquated technology you never get sick of seeing more of.

While Fischbach and director of photography Philip Roy have the camera linger in close ups almost too often, I don’t blame them for wanting to capture the finer details and leer at them. It’s clear every inch of this condensation covered machine was engineered by the art team and production design to emphasize its prison cell qualities as a barely functional vessel.

The ship’s external camera fires off like a flash bulb on its interior, barely illuminating the cabin with its next horrific image of the sea floor before plunging us back into darkness. The oxygen gauge and its cold robotic voice are a countdown to the painful annihilation that awaits its pilot. Its proximity sensors give only the barest indications of what’s going on outside, ticking a dull noise warning us: you are not alone. It’s a punishment to operate, and the set design as well as the very solid sound design that accompany it make that violently clear and effectively spinetingling.

Translation From Game to Film Isn’t So Perfect Though

This perfect setting isn’t always used perfectly though. The translation of the game’s mechanics and gameplay to the screen are both a weakness and a strength. They make the pacing of the first third run to a slow start, especially when Fischbach’s screenplay grinds against the strong suit of the film’s cinematography: the panic of it all.

Advertisement

Like its video game source material, David Szymanski’s Iron Lung, the film is really at its best when it’s instilling a sense of active and imminent panic. A tone that matches the borrowed time the submarine is glued together with. Putting out fires, both literal and metaphorical, ratcheting up its claustrophobia as you’re placed cheek to cheek with Simon in steamy, metallic darkness. This is where Iron Lung shines.

Markiplier’s Performance in Iron Lung is Hit or Miss, But Mostly Hits

It’s outside of these moments of panic where the weakest parts of the script and Fischbach’s performance are highlighted. Some weak line deliveries and beats of dead air kill the real tight headlock the film could have you gripped in from start to finish. And while Fischbach is phenomenal at playing terrified or pleading or even simple exhaustion in the face of the impossible, he really requires someone to bounce off of as his solo work just isn’t as compelling. Even the clunkiest bits of dialogue between him and his jailer (Caroline Kaplan) are better than the best of his moments where he talks to himself or tries to inject some humor into the bleak story.

This is a shame too, because the minimalist storytelling and background we get for his character is genuinely very intriguing. It’s thematically rich for what the film is trying to say about the power and terror of belief, and it’s doubly satisfying that the film has enough confidence to not lay everything out in a longwinded speech explaining the motives and lore that landed him here.

All that being said, his performance is hit or miss, but he mostly hits. The dialogue becomes more urgent as we approach the climax, and all of the cast delivers on that impending doom nicely. It reaches its peak in the final act, and Fischbach is on fire as he struggles to hold himself together in the face of absolute madness leaching its way into the pressurized cabin.

Iron Lung: A Redemptive Finale With Pure Liquid Body Horror

What a fantastic final act it is, one that makes up for its imperfection in the first two parts with a homerun of pure liquid body horror. It’s just phenomenal how the film’s digital and practical effects present the true horrors of Iron Lung. There’s a near perfect mesh between the two, and they highlight the best influences of similar genre films that came before.

Advertisement

Soaked with all the gore, madness, and mystery of the likes of Event Horizon and Pandorum, Iron Lung is a worthy successor in the cosmic horror genre as it rises above its own problems. It’s a moody, environmentally precise stunner of a horror film that sets a benchmark as the movie to beat for forthcoming releases this year.

Continue Reading

Reviews

‘The Ritual (2017)’ Review: When Grief Gets Gruesome

Published

on

The Ritual is, without a doubt, one of the most completely enthralling horror films of the past decade. Usually, I wouldn’t open with such a strong reaction for a movie that isn’t a technical and narrative masterpiece, but this is close enough to call that in. It’s at the very least masterful work that deserves more love, and that’s even with it having a permanent home and high placement on the world’s biggest streaming platform. It’s no longer the obscure hidden gem it was at the time of release, if it ever was that, but I refuse to stop talking about it.

The sheer catharsis this film grants through its cast, and the way its environment really pushes that cast of characters, is what I could only describe as “surgical.” It cuts to the bone. It’s a movie about the strangling nature of grief, and it gives us a great time showing its characters fighting against that choking feeling.

What is The Ritual (2017) About?

After the death of Rob, things haven’t been the same for Luke. The memories of the robbery that took his life, a robbery he had to witness hiding behind a liquor shelf, still haunt him. But there’s a chance for closure as he and his friends go on the trip that Luke had helped plan the night he died.

Their quest to honor his memory sends them through the beautiful locales of Northern Sweden, along a hiking trail in the mountains. But after an attempt at a shortcut sends the group deep into the woods and they struggle to get back on course, it becomes violently clear they aren’t the only ones in the wilderness. Ritualistic markings, involving dead animals and dire effigies, warn of a much greater power lurking in the forest. Whether they can escape it depends on whether they can keep each other safe long enough to get out.

Netflix Could You Lock In And Do A Physical Release For Once

This is a phenomenal film, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t get up on my soapbox about its format for just one moment.  Regrettably, this is a streaming-only film that has been shackled by Netflix to its platform. It has an excessively rare DVD release floating around, but that is also unfortunately, region locked, and likely more low fidelity than most physical collectors would like. Especially when so much of this movie relies on shadow and darkness, a Blu-Ray release is kind of obligatory for high quality preservation of the director’s vision.

Advertisement

Not sure what I expected from the media conglomerate that it is. Netflix is already notorious for refusing to release physical media and then cancelling and erasing shows from the platform. What are we going to do with you Netflix? You only ever seem to cause me problems. Just make the physical release for this already.

Gorgeous, Grotesque, And Gut-wrenching All At The Same Time

Setting that thought aside, this film was bound to be fantastic given the horror pedigree behind it. Cutting loose anthology director David Bruckner, the MVP of the V/H/S franchise, then giving him a budget and legendary location scouting is about as great as you’d expect. It’s like saying that sugar and butter make things taste better; should you really be shocked?

When you have this many lighting and environmental factors to juggle, expectations are understandably high. The film on paper should look at least a little choppy, but Bruckner and cinematographer Andrew Shulkind really are in their element here. This is only exemplified even further by the film’s most memorable space-bending set piece at its climax. I won’t even risk spoiling it for lack of a better description, but I will say the stark contrast they play with light and shadow here makes for some really captivating visuals and frightening moments.

The naturalistic environment this folk horror takes place in really has a knack for showing the contrasting beauty and grotesqueness of the things hiding in the woods. And its director really has a knack for using that environment to squeeze the actors for all they’ve got.

A Phenomenal Cast Led By Rafe Spall

Make no mistake: The Ritual is not just a pretty face. This is at its core a story about a group of men facing their strained relationships in the wake of a brutal death, and all the ugliness that entails. They’re foolish, angry, bitter, and sad people struggling each in their own way to accept a loss. What it leads you with is what you’d expect to be one-note characters being slotted into archetypal roles, but what they end up as feels surprisingly real.

Advertisement

The obvious star here is our lead Rafe Spall, whose turn as main character Luke ranges from downright depressing to shockingly soul lifting. You can see Spall plays him as a man slowly trying to piece himself back together, fumbling as he’s soaked in alcohol and self-pity. His changing demeanor throughout the film really reflects the truth of his character: he was only ever going to change and confront his past when he was forced to. And him being forced to go through supernatural circumstances really does make for one of the most satisfying character arcs in a horror film I’ve ever seen.

Is This The Best Creature Design Of The Past 20 Years?

Again, it’s difficult to talk about this film without spoiling its most fun moments, so I will just say that you only stand to gain something by watching it. If its emotional aspects don’t grab you, its aesthetic qualities will. And if all that fails to grab you, maybe this will: The Ritual boasts what is the definitively best monster design of the 2010s, if not the past 20 years. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can top the visual concept this film delivers on with that design. Need I say more?

Continue Reading

Horror Press Mailing List

Fangoria
Advertisement
Advertisement