Drag Me to Hell

Drag Me to Hell

Waitress: So you’re just going to sit here all night, drinking coffee?
Christine Brown: Yes… No! Maybe! Whats it to you?
Waitress: Honey, I’m working a job where tips is my living,
and coffee drinkers DON’T TIP!
Christine Brown: [Holds up envelope containing the cursed button] You keep the coffee coming honey, or I’ll give you a tip you won’t forget!

By Ryan Brlecic

The Horror genre could not have picked a better year to flat line then the already hemorrhaging 2009. So what better time for Sam Raimi to re-immerse himself in the genre that got him started with Evil Dead? Literally a decade in the making, Drag Me to Hell is a morality tale that shares more with Rod Serling and EC Comics than Hemingway. Seemingly, unaffected by a successful run of mainstream fair (note: this film cancels out Spider-man 3) he comes off without missing a step or a Delta 88. It is not to say he goes back to his comfort zone so much as that he forces you out of yours.

Sam Raimi’s observation that less is often more, allows him to suck you into hell with the film’s first scene. Wearing his influences on his sleeve you never get tired from the onslaught of controlled horror that unfolds through out this film; it never once feels pastiche. Sam and his brother, Ivan, pack their script with schlock thrills and wit that drips with depravity, unafraid to go anywhere the story and plot need them to. Working within the self-inflicted confines of PG-13, Raimi showed that with true talent there are no confines. Mainstream audiences sustaining themselves on the latest excuses for modern horror (see Dead Silence) saw this film and got all of that wretched body fat sucked out of them and spit back in their faces by Sylvia Ganush. Or was that Sam Raimi, just off camera?

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October 01, 2009

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