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We'll Always Have Paris... |
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Andrew waxes nostalgic (but does not avoid terrible puns) in... HOUSE OF WAX |
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Every bonehead journalist and movie reviewer, in relation to House of Wax, has commented on exactly one thing. Paris Hilton and her relevance to modern pop culture. They laugh and chortle, with a double tall mocha latte in one manicured hand, the other manicured hand typing furiously on their chique Apple iBooks, amazed at their own ability to beat an extremely dead horse even deader. Yes, Paris Hilton has a sex tape. Yes, Paris Hilton's projected image is that of a stupid blonde. Yes, Paris Hilton is an extremely bad role model to young women. You know what Paris Hilton thinks of this? Absolutelty nothing - because right now she's rolling around in her GIANT PILES OF MONEY. It's like trying to make fun of a blank wall. There's just no way your insults will in any way affect it. Paris Hilton herself is an empire, and she shows no signs of slowing down. Heiress, reality tv star, scandal magnet, general laughing stock.
And now? Slasher movie slut.
Let's take the general consensus of 2005's horror movies. They're boring, pussified PG-13 fare that couldn't shock a five year old. This makes House of Wax a generally pleasant surprise - if you can call a movie about college students being very brutally murdered and encased in wax pleasant. The premise isn't that important; some shit about pretty 20 somethings going to see a football game, blah blah camping in the woods, blah blah car breaking down, blah blah creepy backwoods hick town blah blah bloodshed.
The characters aren't that important either. Don't let the movie and it's weird twin-fixation try to fool you. There's Carly, the Final Girl, played admirably (if somewhat stiffly) by Maxim pin-up Elisha Cuthbert, who adorns the lumpiest bra in the entire world. |
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Nicole Richie's visit to the set was not exactly welcomed. |
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There's Nick, the Final Boy, played with a surprising amount of charisma by CosmoGirl pin-up Chad Michael Murray, who does not adorn a lumpy bra, but is still hot. It's really, really, not a spoiler when I say that they're the last two survivors, because it's quite telegraphed by 1) the previews, 2) the damn movie itself, that everyone except for our photogenic male and female leads will bite it. |
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And this, of course, includes Paris Hilton, who is more or less playing herself. Paris Hilton is pretty unintentionally (or intentionally unintentionally?) hilarious in the film, gliding through scenes in a sedated haze, spouting dialogue in a heavily affected manner, and generally just acting as if she showed up on the set randomly one day and decided to stick around. But her appearance in this film is neither distractingly bad nor astoundingly awesome, she's just there. One thing that her presence does do for the movie is increase it's already high kitsch value, which this reviewer highly appreciates. Her chase sequence, probably one of the more genuinely thrilling chase sequences since Courtney Cox's in Scream 2, is a great set piece and takes advantage of a great location.
If the climax of said sequence has you cheering in maniacal, psychotic glee, then the movie has done its job. If House of Wax can be applauded for anything, it's in the way the film lingers on its brutal, graphic murder scenes. Where crap like The Ring Two will cut away from a death scene, House of Wax not only shows you it, but it lets you squirm for a while as the aftermath of the death unravels on screen. Probably its greatest quality, House of Wax does not care about your comfort level one damn bit.
Another check in the "pro" column would have to be the amazing set design, cinematography, and editing. While it may seem a bit boring to praise a film for such qualities, it's highly appropriate for such an atmosphere-driven horror movie. From the sun-drenched ghost town to the dark, subterrean sewer system, to the eerie and dank House of Wax itself, the movie is never visually boring. Director Jaume Serra, unlike so many other directors of his generation, does not appear to have ADD. Meaning, he does not afflict this film with hyper-fast cuts or stylish whatcha-ma-call-its. There is no pretention in his directing, he just gets his point across and moves on. The best example of Serra's great pacing and directing would be in the tense, fiery finale. It's a remarkable sequence, and should be the standard for any finale of a horror movie about wax. |
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This film does not aspire to be anything greater than its premise might suggest. It's balls-out graphic and bloody, thrilling and scary. Intelligent and throught provoking? No. The lame attempts to sympathise its villains (both played by the unapologetically sexy Brian Van Holt) in the latter half of the film, is probably its one glaring fault. But this is quickly made up for when Elisha Cuthbert goes fucking batshit crazy on one of them with a baseball bat. Man, that was awesome.
House of Wax is just a fun, trashy time. Sure, it might be a little overly long, and it's lame pop-psychology concerning the relationship between twins is a bit heavy handed. But none of that really matters once the film focuses on what it was created to focus on: the deaths. The sweet, sweet deaths. Bring a date, because there'll be fear-induced groping aplenty. |
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CONTINUING THE DISTURBING TREND OF GIVINGTRASHY HORROR MOVIES BETTER RATINGS THAN THEY DESERVE, OUT OF 5, ANDREW ENCASES "HOUSE OF WAX" IN A DEADLY... |
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That finger scene was fucking brilliant. |
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Thanks, bitch |
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Bye, gorgeous |
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