When “Scream” came out in 1996, moviegoers and movie critics alike were treated to something that was almost revolutionary: a smart horror movie.
The hook of this movie was that it cleverly mocked the conventions of the horror genre. Its protagonists and its antagonists were well versed in horror movie rhetoric and used that to their advantages.
Ever since “Scream” and its two sequels, movie critics have been too concerned with the parody quality of the horror movies they were reviewing. Everything became an element of the parody: overacting, cheesy special effects, cheesy cinematography, cheesy dialogue, unrealistic plot twists, gratuitous nudity and endless gore.
These critics are people who cannot differentiate between the words “film” and “movie.” Do not be fooled — they have no idea what they are talking about.
“Scream” was never a horror movie in the classical sense. Classical horror movies do not make clever mockeries of themselves. They are unashamed of being unabashedly obtuse. Cheesiness, outlandishness and superficiality are not references or mockeries; they are just fun and entertaining. Existentialism, baby. Sometimes cartoonish serial killings happen, and there’s not necessarily any rhyme or reason.
When a sixth grader watches “Jason Goes to Hell,” he doesn’t care that it would probably be impossible to cut a fornicating teenager in half with a stop sign, or for Jason’s evil heart to be passed from person to person. He just sits back and stutters, “Whoa, that was hella cool!”
While many adult audiences shook their heads in disbelief at the absurdity of 2003’s “Cabin Fever,” Peter Jackson, the director of the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy and a true horror movie connoisseur, touted it as “the film horror fans have been waiting for” and “brilliant,” because it was just trying to be itself.
“Broken Lizard’s Club Dread” succeeds to this end, not because it tries to mock horror movies as the confused people will tell you, but because it tries to actually be a horror movie.
Broken Lizard, the comedy crew behind “Super Troopers,” transplants the traditional horror movie setting of a summer camp to a Costa Rican resort called “Pleasure Island,” just in time for spring break. The patriarch of the island is Coconut Pete, played by Bill Paxton, a burned-out Jimmy Buffett-type who will do anything to capitalize on college kids’ love for his hedonistic pop songs.
A machete-wielding serial killer in a poncho and a tribal mask targets the staff of Pleasure Island. One by one, he mutilates the employees while keeping record of his murders by crossing off his victims on the activities board.
The Broken Lizard crew flexes its acting muscles by diving headfirst into the horror genre. Some parts of the script, especially resort tennis pro Putnam’s character, played by Jay Chandrasekhar, are clear reminders that this movie is being brought to you by a comedy-improv-style clan, in much the same vein as Saturday Night Live movies.
The “Scary Movie” trilogy was another example of a bunch of comedians trying to make a horror movie, and they succeeded … at making a comedy. Even though it is a group of comedians, Broken Lizard has got the horror genre locked down tight in “Club Dread.”
Although Paxton is usually a wanker, he is particularly entertaining as Coconut Pete. Where “Club Dread” is not trying to mock the horror genre, it definitely is trying to mock legions of Parrotheads mindlessly devoted to Buffet-themed resort locations. Those Parrotheads should especially enjoy a full-length song Paxton sings over a video montage of beautiful coeds enjoying the resort’s amenities, entitled “Pina Coladaburg.”
If you do not like the classical horror movie formula, if you feel insulted by superficiality or if you hated “Super Troopers,” then for the love of god, do not see this movie. You’ll ruin it for the rest of us.
However, if you love horror movies as they are meant to be, full-frontal farce and gratuitous nudity, “Club Dread” is the perfect movie for the plane ride down to Cancun. Spring break, woo!
Grade: A/B
