Let's Stay In To-night

I think Eli Roth is the Bill Forsyth of horror movies. I finally got around to watching Roth's debut movie, 2002's Cabin Fever, and I was impressed by how already he had such a distinct artistic voice in evidence. But it's such a subtle one that it doesn't surprise me it has been widely misinterpreted.

Just like Forsyth's famous "gossamer" humour, the balancing act Roth plays with a group of obnoxious college kids, between laughing at them and sympathising with them, is too narrow a path to walk for many reviewers who just found them puzzlingly irritating. One of my favourite moments is when the most obnoxious of the group, Bert (James DeBello), first sees the guy with the horrific skin infection. He accidentally shoots him, thinking he's a squirrel, and he's apologetic. But as the guy with the disgusting skin draws closer, we can see Bert's fear and repulsion in conflict with his guilt and tiny shreds of empathy. And of course he chickens out, runs away, and forgets even about contacting authorities, like he wants to wipe the experience from his memory. His cowardice is funny in contrast to his boisterousness but it's also strikingly pathetic.

The two girls are less interesting possibly because at this point Roth was reluctant to attribute negative psychological traits to women. But both Jordan Ladd and Cerina Vincent are very cute. I just felt bad for the latter when she was threatened by the infection but Ladd kind of worked as a figure in Paul's story, the character played by Rider Strong. He has a crush on her and his physical and emotional compulsions are cruelly mocked by manifestations of the disease. At the same time, even he, despite being more or less the film's moral centre, makes decisions that complicate his moral standing. Some of it's downright Hitchcockian. I loved a scene where he was running around the woods looking for help and he comes across a house where he can see a naked woman through a window. He pauses until the woman's husband comes across him. The husband's understandably angry and as Paul pleads his innocence we're left to think back on just how long he watched the woman. How innocent is he really? Supposedly David Lynch was an uncredited producer and the moment does savour very slightly of Blue Velvet. The moral is, watch your voyeurism, kids.

The last part of the movie doesn't work quite as well. There's a joke about an apparently racist shop owner that doesn't make any sense and falls flat. Like Forsyth, Roth loses his stride when he steps away from that delicate balance. Which could explain Borderlands, though that seems like studio interference is the main culprit. It's a good thing he got Thanksgiving out before Borderlands hit.