This week’s VHS is the instantly
recognizable 1987 John Hough joint, American Gothic.
A group of vacationers end up stranded
on an island inhabited by a family of psychos.
I have no real excuse as to why I
hadn’t watched American Gothic until now. I guess I just got
distracted by flashier stuff I suppose. The movie isn’t anything
special, but the fact it was directed by John Hough is significant.
His earlier works for Disney, The Watcher in the Woods and both Witch Mountain flicks, were some of my first encounters with the
fantastical as a kid. I owe him a debt for his contribution to my
love of genre film for sure.
This one, however was a bit problematic mainly due to all the protagonists, save the lead played by Sarah Torgov (she’s got
her own problems) were complete fucking assholes. I think that only one
character was supposed to be the stereotypical jerk, but they were
all fairly unlikable. I mean who walks into someone’s house and
starts messing with their shit, even putting on clothes! Considering
how homicidal Ma & Pa were, I think they handled that first
interaction quite well.
Hicks vs Dicks. |
Even the husband (Mark Erickson) –
who dragged his wife out into the wilderness right after she was discharged from the loony bin – made some deplorable comment to the effect of, oh
yeah my wife, the wet blanket. You brought her here, dude!
The movie was a fairly pedestrian
affair until the three “children” showed up (one of whom was
consummate character actor Michael J. Pollard) and the killing
started. While even that wasn’t particularly bloody, at least it
was fulfilling to see all these idiots being punished for their sins.
If you’ll indulge me in a completely random observation, two deaths
in this movie are almost exactly the same as those in the 2017 video
game What Remains of Edith Finch. Totally unrelated of course, it’s
just one of those completely inexplicable parallels.
Janet Wright as Fanny in American Gothic. |
American Gothic was fairly standard in
execution, but did score points for straying into the bizarre. It
might not be as entertainingly bonkers as Freddie Francis’
similarly themed 1970 film Girly, but – what is? – its last
fifteen minutes did veer in an unexpected direction that elevated it
somewhat.
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