The 'Soul' of a Misguided Slasher Flick

by Brett Parker

It is Wes Craven who will be remembered in cinematic history as a main maestro of the slasher flick. While most films of this genre can be callow, nihilistic, and uninspired, Craven has demonstrated more thought, creativity, and shock with his endeavors. He first made his mark with the gritty viciousness of The Last House on the Left, shocking audiences into realizing what a horror film could potentially evolve into. His made a name for himself with A Nightmare on Elm Street, creating a juicy fantasy premise to milk all kinds of grotesque horrors never seen before in this subgenre. And Craven wasn’t above putting his own genre through the self-reflexive ringer, brilliantly dissecting its parts in the Scream series and playfully poking fun at it with Cursed.

My Soul to Take is Craven’s first feature-length horror endeavor since 2005’s Red Eye, and on the surface, it appears to hold more thought and creative juice than the mindless slasher flicks haunting the multiplex these days. Yet to endure the film on viewing curiously proves to be a daunting and empty experience. This juicy idea of a blood fest is hopelessly skewered by an over-complicated central plot and seriously misguided performances. It wanders around in a lack of humor, irony, or relevance and it lacks the fun jolts of excitement and terror Craven certainly knows how to dish out.

In the sleepy American town of Riverton, seven teenagers are bound by the fact that they all share the same birthday: there’s the psychologically troubled Bug (Max Thierriot), the quirky Alex (John Magaro), the blind Jerome (Denzel Whitaker), the religious Penelope (Zena Grey), the cruel jock Brandon (Nick Lashaway), the class crush Brittany (Paulina Olszynski), and the…well…average teen Jay (Jeremy Chu). The dreadful fact about the day of their birth was that it was also the day that the Riverton Ripper, a serial killer who preyed on the town, had died. Before his death, the Ripper vowed to one day come back, in some kind of form, and murder each of the seven children born that very night.

The day after their 16^th birthdays, Jay is found brutally murdered under a bridge and it is believed that the legend is, in fact, coming true. Pretty soon, each fateful teens becomes picked off one-by-one, meeting their ends by grisly, blood-soaked deaths. The surviving teens begin to ponder the tangibility of the Ripper himself: did the Ripper truly live on after the supposed night of his death, or does his soul inhabit the body of one of the kids from beyond the grave? A way to unlock this mystery may lie in the mind of Bug, who appears to suffer from schizophrenia and sees disturbing hallucinations related to the ripper. Can Bug find out who the Ripper truly is, or could he perhaps be inhabited by the Ripper’s soul himself?

From everything I just described, it would seem as if My Soul to Take has a distinctive concept that isn’t as mundane as most disposable slasher flicks. Indeed, I noticed that the film spends a lot more time focused on character dialogue than it does on blood-splattering. The problem, however, is that the film spends way too much time discussing its overly-complicated backstory instead of letting the apparent horror of the situation soak in. The film’s plot has more details and set-ups than a Russian novel and we never get a full handle on the Ripper’s legend. Most details come across pretty vague or spelled-out in a casually confusing manner. Craven’s Nightmare on Elm Street may have had an elaborate backstory as well, but the concept of Freddy Krueger was rooted in a simple-enough concept of primal fear to connect with audiences. Freddy Krueger was a simple monster explained in an expertly complicated manner while the Riverton Ripper is a complicated monster explained in too simple of terms.

The cast offers up the usual archetypes of the high school slasher hierarchy, but they suffer mostly from miscasting or clunky characterizations. Lashaway is too much of a stick-thin creep to be an intimidating bully while Olszynski is too baby-faced and innocent to be a carnal sexpot. Grey looks her part and tries to flow with conviction, but her character is inflated to too many caricature extremes. Same goes for Emily Meade as Fang (Yeah…seriously! You tell me!), Bug’s bad-girl little sister. To say her angry beating of her older brother is overwrought would be a tremendous understatement. As for Bug himself, Thierriot seems like a fresh-faced and sincere-enough actor, but he lacks the eccentric angles that could make his looney character really come to life. Perhaps a more brooding and dangerous actor was needed to breathe authenticity into an inauthentic character.

While most slasher flicks of today are handed over to cheap and inexperienced directors, the good news here is that Craven has developed a tact and skill through his experience that at least shows in the film’s look and feel. The film’s look, from Director of Photography Petra Korner (The Wackness, The Informers) demonstrates a texture and sense of atmosphere most slasher flicks don’t even bother with. And while most of the film’s plot is hokey nonsense, Craven at least tries to make it vibrate with a sense of dread and urgency. Too bad the acting and writing isn’t there to back him up. Perhaps if Craven had more experienced actors and a more biting, whip-smart script (two things he had with Scream), we could see ourselves caring about his latest outing.

Wes Craven has delivered many pivotal things to this genre and I believe he still has it in him to make a few more gems (Scream 4 is on the horizon…that promises to be interesting), but My Soul to Take proves to be an instantly forgettable entry into his filmography. I love the Halloween season and I always relish a good horror movie during this time, but the real terror is the fact that I can’t get my money or time back from this dud.