Movie Review: the Babadook

I was just reading somewhere, in that dark corner of the internet (mostly likely Reddit.com) about why, really, horror movies seem to be the only original works left in Hollywood. And it makes sense. Small cast, don't even need brand name performers, everything happens in the dark, and you can kill most of them off, so the most desparate actors will work for half the price.

And the payback will be huge, sometimes earning 100 times more than the budget.

We've seen tasty tidbits like the Blair Witch Project and Insidious. Even the Conjuring, which was incredibly true to the book and didn't have one death on screen, played to packed houses when it opened.

Now, me, I'm not an addict to horror movies like some in the realm of fandom. My cousin goes to conventions; another colleague has themed nights where he teaches people about the joys of horror movies. Heck, I've never even attended the nearby Universal Horror Nights.

However, like many, a decent scare is just as cathartic as a ride on a good rollercoaster.

That's if they are successful.

My most recent foray in horror films was one, again, recommended by a teenager friend.

If it scares a teenager, it should be decent. Of course, it might also contain graphic nudity and really bad jokes about farts.

But they insisted I try out the Babadook.

And I discovered something.

Either I'm getting old or the definition of what is scary must be changing.

Because, like the Ring before this, this wasn't very good.

Look at that adverb there, "very." The reason I'm adding it? It's because it's not too bad either. I was also drawn to this movie because it had a rare component. Jennifer Kent, a woman director. I detest I had to point that out. I should say a novice director, but, culture being what it is now, women directors are excellent-but too garldarn few. My interest was piqued.

Since this was the director's only cut so far, I cannot lay comment on her auteur abilities. If this what we are going to see from her?

She is going to make a great movie; most likely sooner than later. This film is ripe. It has a fantastic production value, taking place in a tight, darkened home with a bad lawn care. Tropes, yes, but it makes sense given the characters' depression. She rotates the camera around so all four walls are seen in a given seen. Furniture is consistent, continunity is powerful.  Also, probably because she is so new, her budget was micro. But her monster was evident, even if it was shot in shadow.

The flashes of brilliance are evident. And gives me hope with her movies.

LIke the next one.

The fault lies in the storyline and pacing.  Writing is the backbone of any horror piece and the monster, however ominious, is not given a mythos. At times, it is a mere suggestion that this might be just happening in the protagonist's head; others it seems there's a demon of sorts loose in the woodworks. But even at the end of the tale, I wasn't really sure what the threat was. We'd go from truly monsterous attacks, but the suspense would be dropped as, get this, characters just go back to bed.

Huh?

Here's the other thing. Kids today are strong than we think. In this story, a single woman, Amelia (played by Essie Davis), is raising her emotionally disabled son. However, the filmmaker makes the disabilty just a screaming kid. No complexity or reality is interjected. Heck, after a while, I started to want the monster to him. No compassion for him whatso ever. As the tale increases, she read to him a book he finds on a shelf and the monster from the book arrives to eat them.

Her husband who died in a car accident then arrives and asks for the child. The child's what? Soul? Heart? Hair? Is it the Babadook?

Without a structure to the mythology, the audience was dropped.

With imagery so vivid I could not look way. I was torn.

Hence, the term "very" good. Somewhere almost-good.  Watch it and tell me what you think.

Peace,
Roo