There's nothing comfortable about capitalizing on a filmmaker's passing, but it just so happens that Wes Craven's death coincides precisely with my 4th annual horror movie bender where for two months straight the majority of watches will be horror related, harmonizing with the slow descent into my favorite time of year, Autumn. So I consider it an honor to examine the whole of Craven's work over the long marathon and with a copy of Deadly Blessing at hand, the marathon…
It starts with voice over and text crawl at the same time to make it clear at the get-go that you better be buckled in for this ride 'cause it's gonna be bumpy. But if you think it's that bad then you clearly haven't watched The Ward all the way through. The difference between "good bad" and "bad bad" is poetically illustrated by Mr. Carpenter himself with those two films.
A simple fact: action movies have been neutered, half-baked, half-written and served cold for children with Attention Deficit Disorder. Die Hard has aged into a lost art. It has a wholly original, unpredictable screenplay, crisp with sharp dialogue matched with badass line delivery through the mouths of believable human characters (This sentence alone cannot be attributed to a single modern action film). There is a tight plot that gradually escalates, accumulating ZERO gaps in logic equaling to not a single…
"Time just gets away from us."
Only the Coens. The most authentic western in modern memory, only the Coens could accomplish what they do here and they warrant rewatchability to spare. For one, the Coens are masters of language. Always have been, always will be. The way they go about capturing the Old West linguistics and dialects and transplant them into unique and unusual accents of characters is an absolute treat to experience and in the process, transplants the viewer…