Another slow news day - which means I get to sit back for a moment and remember why it is I do this in the first place, what it is that drives this passion of mine, and how exactly all this came to be.
I've always been a fan of justice in film. Fathers going on war paths to protect their families, men standing up to do the right thing, people truly getting what it is they deserve - and, in 2006, I fell in love with the idea all over again. Alexandre Aja's too underseen, and sorely underrated, The Hills Have Eyes remake touched me on a deep personal level.
More, and some spoilers, after the cut --
Having long loved Wes Craven's 70's original, I was skeptical that Aja (who had previously wowed me with Haute Tension only one year prior) would be able to match - if not enhance - the level of internal change that Wes Craven brought to his characters. And, instead, what I got was a film that revamped everything three fold. A film that boldly announced the Grindhouse horror revival that so many of us had been waiting for, a film that demonized the man and humanized the monster, and a film that, in no uncertain terms, was unafraid of its own psychology. That a man could live as a beast, solely to protect, and what it means to be a monster.
Mostly, though, it's Aaron Stanford's performance that has stood out to me over these last four years, and brought me to the theater four times upon its release, simply to witness it again. He plays "Doug", a cellphone salesman caught in an extraordinary circumstance. His family, including his baby daughter, have been killed and kidnapped by survivors of a nuclear explosion in the middle of the desert. He's never been in an altercation, and probably never would have been were it not for this particular road trip. But, for his family, he suffers and is shattered, only to regain them, and his own fighting spirit.
He plays Doug with two kinds of confidence - at first, the confidence of a man with nothing to risk. He seems damn sure of his place in life, and that it won't be disrupted. He's arrogant, cocksure, and - ultimately - faulty. At last, the confidence of a man with nothing to lose. He's been beaten to Hell and back, and had everything he loves ripped from his arms. Now, he has nothing left to do but become what he's beheld over so many years, to regain parts of him long lost, and the things he loves the most.
Let me paint you a picture -
A small man, with the newfound heart of a lion, fights a man with a baseball bat. A man, three times his size and strength, wielding an ax. This large man has the small man's daughter, and the small man has done everything in his power to get her back. And, once the score swells, the ax trades hands and the transformation of Doug is complete. He's no longer a small man. He is, by all definition, a hero.
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| Doug protects his family, at all costs. |
I've always been a fan of justice in film. Fathers going on war paths to protect their families, men standing up to do the right thing, people truly getting what it is they deserve - and, in 2006, I fell in love with the idea all over again. Alexandre Aja's too underseen, and sorely underrated, The Hills Have Eyes remake touched me on a deep personal level.
More, and some spoilers, after the cut --
Having long loved Wes Craven's 70's original, I was skeptical that Aja (who had previously wowed me with Haute Tension only one year prior) would be able to match - if not enhance - the level of internal change that Wes Craven brought to his characters. And, instead, what I got was a film that revamped everything three fold. A film that boldly announced the Grindhouse horror revival that so many of us had been waiting for, a film that demonized the man and humanized the monster, and a film that, in no uncertain terms, was unafraid of its own psychology. That a man could live as a beast, solely to protect, and what it means to be a monster.
Mostly, though, it's Aaron Stanford's performance that has stood out to me over these last four years, and brought me to the theater four times upon its release, simply to witness it again. He plays "Doug", a cellphone salesman caught in an extraordinary circumstance. His family, including his baby daughter, have been killed and kidnapped by survivors of a nuclear explosion in the middle of the desert. He's never been in an altercation, and probably never would have been were it not for this particular road trip. But, for his family, he suffers and is shattered, only to regain them, and his own fighting spirit.
He plays Doug with two kinds of confidence - at first, the confidence of a man with nothing to risk. He seems damn sure of his place in life, and that it won't be disrupted. He's arrogant, cocksure, and - ultimately - faulty. At last, the confidence of a man with nothing to lose. He's been beaten to Hell and back, and had everything he loves ripped from his arms. Now, he has nothing left to do but become what he's beheld over so many years, to regain parts of him long lost, and the things he loves the most.
Let me paint you a picture -
A small man, with the newfound heart of a lion, fights a man with a baseball bat. A man, three times his size and strength, wielding an ax. This large man has the small man's daughter, and the small man has done everything in his power to get her back. And, once the score swells, the ax trades hands and the transformation of Doug is complete. He's no longer a small man. He is, by all definition, a hero.
It's a beautiful performance, and film. One of the best of 2006, and something that should have left everybody talking.
