Thursday, June 18, 2009

Laid to Rest (2009)


Fear 2/5
Gore 5/5
Entertainment 3/5
Creepiness 1/5
The hype around this movie was literally almost enough to drown me in a sea of over gushing praise and glowing adjectives. After my extremely disappointing experience with Hatchet (Complaint Dept. and I had differing opinions, see here), which was positioned in much the same vein as this flick, I was pretty hesitant. However, the endless heaping on of praise (damn you marketing!) as being one of the best and most original slasher films released within the last few years certainly piqued my interest as I am a huge fan of the genre no matter how much its been riddled with self-parody and endless copycats. So does this film deliver the goods? Read on.
The film starts off with a woman who wakes up inside a coffin in a funeral home. She stumbles through the joint in a haze, clearly not knowing where the heezy she is. She makes her way into an embalming room and promptly locks herself inside when a masked man appears at the door. He briefly goes away as the caretaker of the place unlocks the door and she hysterically claims there a strange dude is roaming around. As the caretaker opens the door, the masked man (which is a chrome skeleton face, bling bling) comes back into view and quickly dispenses the caretaker with some sort of spear-like device. The woman runs out of the room and through the front door, and begins a mad dash down the road leading away from the mortuary. She runs into a guy riding along in his pickup truck and he takes her back to his pad.
The man (who gets around by cane) along with his religious rabble rouser of a wife, take her in and let her get straight. She has a crazy flashback episode while she's in the shower and the man goes into the bathroom to calm her down. The wife chimes in with claims, yelling at her husband that the women is no good and that she's probably a whore. Now there's a way to win friends and influence people! The chrome face covered dude (who's now wielding a Rambo-like knife) tracks them down and as the loony wife tries to hop out a bedroom window, he shuts it on her waist high and hackety smacketys off her head. This kicks off a cat and mouse game for the rest of the movie between the killer, the old hobbling man, coffin girl, and milk commercial guy (read on).
The hobbily man and coffin gal escape from the house, driving along the road and stopping at a house that is lighted and deemed safe. They ring the doorbell, and then, holy fucking jesus! Its that kid from the milk commercials during the early 90's ('Aaaaron Burr!'). Except he's now aged about 20 years and looks even fuglier than before! He lets them in claiming he doesn't have a landline phone with which to call authorities but he does have a computer with internet connection and they can send an email! WTF? He sends one off to the local po po station and advises that they head to the station themselves. They get there and the killer has already waxed the sheriff and he's waiting for them. Its off to the races again until the very end when they have a final standoff with the killer at the local gas station.
Some incredible gore scenes notwithstanding, the really bad acting and just way too silly and implausible scenarios (you have a computer and full internet access but no phone whatsoever, puh-lease!) contribute to an overall lackluster feeling. The cool thing about the killer is that he has a video camera affixed to his shoulder and he tapes the brutal mauling of his victims. This concept is never really explored much further and it would have been really awesome to have shown some of the kills from the perspective and eye of the lens. So why is the killer so intent on getting to coffin girl? Well apparently she IS a whore afterall and as camera footage shows, the killer is trying to make some sort of example of her, making her realize the error of her ways. A slasher movie with a conscience? Lame. In the end, not worth the hype but definitely worth its weight in gore-ific-ness. A big resounding 'meh' overall.

Cortez the Killer


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