31 Days of Fright: The Wicker Man

"What's the buzz, Sister Honey." Not enough bee humour in The Wicker Man, to be quite honest.

“What’s the buzz, Sister Honey.” Not enough bee humour in The Wicker Man, to be quite honest.

This January, in support of the Toronto Rape Crisis Centre / Multicultural Women Against Rape, friends and family have raised over $1,000, which means I have to watch and write about thirty-one horror movies. I’ll watch (on average) one movie a night, many of them requested by donors, after which I’ll write some things about said movies on this website. Be forewarned that all such write-ups will contain spoilers! The latest film I watched was the 2006 remake of The Wicker Man, directed by Neil Labute (Nurse Betty, In the Company of Men). The film, known more for Cage’s meme-able manic performance than for any real scares, was not explicitly suggested by anyone, but I attended several hours of friend and Nicolas Cage expert Lindsay Gibb’s New Year’s Day 24-Hour Nic Cage Marathon, and it was one of the few films of the actor that could be defined as horror. (Check out her excellent book-length defence of Nicolas Cage, National Treasure (ECW Press).

What happens:

Many readers may be familiar with the original The Wicker Man (1973), in which a police officer is called to a remote Scottish island to investigate the disappearance of a local girl. It’s a film which has the distinction of being the creepiest movie shot almost entirely in daylight. The remake moves the action to America’s Pacific Northwest, but – with some notable exceptions – preserves many of the key plot points, if not the unsettling atmosphere.

Before the film’s credits even roll, we spot Edward Malus (Nicolas Cage), a California motorcycle patrolman (maybe a C.H.i.P.?) picking up a copy of the self-help audio book Everything’s Okay, from a roadside diner. Shortly afterward, while on patrol, a station wagon loaded down with luggage drops a teddy bear. The good officer retrieves the stuffed bear and pulls the family over to return the doll. Inside are a mother and her daughter who, doing her best Village of the Damned impression, asks, “Did you get my doll?” After Malus hands the girl her doll back, she again tosses it into the highway. As Malus runs to retrieve it, a tractor trailer plows into the parked car, causing it to catch fire almost immediately. Malus smashes the windshield and reaches in for the young girl, but the young girl stays back, refusing to take his hand. The car explodes into a bigger inferno and throws Malus backward, knocking him senseless.

Credits roll, and we return to find Officer Malus on work leave after this traumatic highway accident. A fellow officer drops in on him to deliver his mail and tell him the bodies of the family in the car were never discovered. Sifting through his correspondence, he finds a letter with no return address from his old fiancee, Willow Woodward (Kate Beahan). In the letter, Willow informs Edward that she has a daughter, Rowan, and that daughter has gone missing. (I thought the letter informed him that Rowan was his daughter, but the actions and dialogue that follow suggest I misheard.) Willow moved back to her hometown, an intentional farming community on Summer’s Isle, in Puget Sound. Conveniently, Summer’s Isle has no phone service and no easy method of access. Despite his coworker Pete’s advice, Malus decides to pay a visit to his ex and see if he can’t find her missing daughter.

In Puget Sound, Malus runs into the seaplane pilot who makes deliveries to Summer’s Isle. He at first refuses to ferry him to the community, due to the stipulations of his contract. But when Malus bribes him with $100, he agrees to drop him off at the far side of the island. Almost immediately upon his arrival on the idyllic, forested island, Malus is accosted by some locals, dressed in clothes more appropriate to the 1700s, who are none to pleased to see him. When he explains he’s looking for a missing child, Willow Woodward’s daughter, they claim to both not to have seen her, and that Rowan isn’t even her child. They also are fairly standoffish about a wriggling, dripping canvas bag that two men are hauling. So far, Malus’s welcome to Summer’s Isle has been less than welcome.

Malus visits the town’s meeting house and runs into his ex-fiancee Willow. He asks the innkeeper, Sister Beech (Diane Delano), if there’s a place he could stay, then orders a mead, made partially from the honey they cultivate on the island. The island is a pagan matriarchy of sorts, overseen by the mysterious Sister Summersisle, and their main product is honey. Malus then ingratiates himself to the locals by publicly declaring, in the most accusatory way possible, he’s in town to find a missing girl. He then crushes a bee under his mug, astonishing and horrifying everyone on hand. “I’m allergic,” he explains.

Willow and Edward Malus meet in secret and discuss their past relationship. Malus never understood why she left him, but she explains she got scared and moved back home. Malus also doesn’t understand why Rowan’s father isn’t involved in the search for his daughter, and Willow says she doesn’t trust him. (I was very confused here, as I thought it was already revealed that Malus was Rowan’s father.) Later, unpacking his stuff at the inn, Malus finds his Everything’s Okay tapes have gone missing. (This is the director’s method of hinting to the audience that everything is not, in fact, okay.) He overhears some locals (including some creepy old twins) talk about the harvest and the return of the Wicker Man, and soon after falls asleep. His dreams are haunted by Rowan and car accidents.

"I only care about the law, Sister." – actual quote from Edward Malus

“I only care about the law, Sister.” – actual quote from Edward Malus

He awakes from his nightmares and peers out the window to see a child (possibly Rowan?) running across a field and into the woods. He runs downstairs to pursue her and is led into an old barn. When he ascends to the loft, he only finds a red jacket matching those that all the young girls wear on Summer’s Isle. As he’s searching the jacket, the old, rotting floor falls out beneath him and he nearly drops to his death. The next morning at the inn, he expresses disbelief he’s being served store-bought honey when they harvest it on the island. Sister Beech explains last year’s crop was ‘curse.’ Further exploring the inn’s dining hall, Malus discovers a display of photos of young girls: princesses of the harvest throughout the years. But the last photo has gone missing, apparently ruined the previous night.The young Sister Honey (Leelee Sobieski) corners Malus on his way out of the inn to beg him to take her with him when he leaves the island.

Malus continues to search Summer’s Isle. He walks in on a class of girls about Rowan’s age in the one-room schoolhouse, taught by Sister Rose (Molly Parker) – they all have plant or farm-product names in Summer’s Isle. He’s taken aback by the class discussion of phallic symbols, but more alarmed by an empty desk. “Who’s desk is this?” he demands, but when he opens it, a crow flies out. (Malus mirrors the audience’s reaction with his “what?”) Though none of the students nor teacher claim to know a Rowan, Malus finds Rowan’s name on the school roster, crossed out, and accuses them all of lying. Sister Rose walks Malus outside to explain Rowan died, in an accident. A slip of Rose’s tongue has her say “she’ll burn to death,” instead of “she burned to death.” Rowan was buried in the old churchyard, Sister Rose says.

Obtaining directions to the churchyard from someone who looks eerily similar to Sister Rose, Malus finds Rowan’s tombstone outside church ruins. Willow finds him and claims Rowan isn’t buried below. Instead, she says that the villagers are punishing her for being too proud, for temporarily escaping the island. Teary-eyed, she reveals Rowan is Edward’s child (though I was pretty sure we already knew that). She shows him Rowan’s room, completely empty. Willow says she left for the market, and when she returned, a half-hour later, Rowan and all her things were completely gone. All she left behind are some disturbing drawings that Malus finds under her desk.

Malus hears the seaplane arriving, and runs to use its radio. When he arrives at the dock, Malus finds no sign of the pilot. So he waits patiently until he spies Rowan (or a girl who looks a lot like her) under the dock. He dives into the water, but when he reaches her drowned body, he awakes with a start. It was all a dream. He’s still sitting on the dock, but lying there in his arms: a drowned Rowan! Then he awakes from that nightmare. (It’s the elusive movie double-nightmare!) Back in reality, he gives up on waiting and swims to the seaplane, only to discover the radio in the plane has been totally dismantled.

On land, Malus pays a visit to Dr. Moss (Six Feet Under‘s Frances Conroy). Not only is she the village’s doctor, she’s official photographer of the harvest festival. She’s also mondo secretive about a book on her desk: Rituals of the Ancients. Malus waits until she leaves for the day, then promptly breaks into her house and office. Inside the book, he finds notes about blood rituals and how they affect fertility and the harvest. He also stumbles across a whole bunch of human fetuses in jars throughout her lab. Most damning of all, he finds a print of the photo of Rowan Woodward at the last harvest festival (now missing from the inn). It’s been editoriaized: “Worst. Harvest. Ever.”

As everyone else in Summer’s Isle continues to stymie Malus’s investigation, Willow and he begin to rekindle their old romance. While cycling around the island (there are no motor vehicles in sight), he cycles straight into a field of beehives, which is – if you remember My Girl at all – kind of a catastrophe for someone allergic to bees. Malus is promptly swarmed and passes out just as he reaches for his epi-pen. When he comes to, he’s being tended by Dr. Moss in the home of Sister Summersisle (Ellen Burstyn), de facto ruler of the island, clothed in a yellow tunic dress and saffron shawl.

Sister Summersisle tries to explain to Edward Malus that feminism is for everyone.

Sister Summersisle tries to explain to Edward Malus that feminism is for everyone.

Malus requests permission from Summersisle to exhume Rowan’s body from the churchyard. Summersisle insists murder is entirely absent from their community, and gives Malus a little history lesson on the community. Her ancestors were victims of the Salem Witch Trials, and the survivors eventually made their way to the west coast to separate from the rest of society. During her monologue, Summersisle leads Malus through serious bee territory, weaving in and out of hives, exposing him to mortal danger. When Malus expresses concern for the men in this matriarchal community, Summersisle says the men are not subservient to women. But Malus harbours his doubts.

Granted grave-digging privileges, Malus unearths Rowan’s coffin in the dead of night (when else?), but finds nothing inside but a burned doll. He hears crying from the church ruins; they seem to be coming from the locked crypt. He ventures inside and finds yet another red jacket (like Rowan had). He then dives into a flooded section of the crypt, swimming past a drowned statue of Jesus (pagan imagery?), when someone seals the entrance behind him. He’s locked in a flooded tomb!

Willow finds him the next morning and frees him from the crypt. Malus promptly dons his jacket (over a soaked dress shirt) and Cage goes into full manic mode. He badgers his ex-fiancee about the doll – “How did it get burned?!” – then rushes to Summersisle’s home, searching for his benevolent warden. He doesn’t find her, and instead finds (of all things) a one-eyed old man in her bed, as well as (in another room) a grinning, naked woman covered with bees. Sister Rose, dressed in a crow costume, bikes along on her way the a festival of death and life (or so she calls it). Malus commandeers her bicycle and makes his way to the inn to get help from the assembled men inside. His effort is futile, though; they won’t even look at him.

Malus has just about had it with this weird pagan murder town. He starts forcibly removing animal masks from children on their way to the festival. He returns to the dock only to find the seaplane submerged and the pilot dead and horribly mutilated. The bonkers atmosphere crescendoes to a fever pitch as Malus (largely unprovoked) punches Sister Beech in the face, then later roundhouses Sister Honey into the wall. He finds a bear suit and disguises himself as a villager, then runs to join the festival

Sister Summersisle, made up like Lokai and Bele from the original Star Trek, presides over the festival. The revellers dance (though there is very little music) and Summersisle presents their sacrifice: Rowan Woodward. A shofar player blasts a mighty toot and Rowan is tied to a stake. The bear in the crowd breaks free, punches the musician and rescues Rowan. Father and son escape into the woods with the angry revellers hot on their trail. Rowan takes the lead and Malus follows, then realizes too late that Rowan wasn’t the one who needed rescuing. She leads him straight back to the group, and asks Willow, “Did I do it right, Mommy?”

Malus pulls his gun on the crowd and Summersisle reveals their scheme. The entire island worked together to bring him there. (Even the mother and daughter in the burning car were Summer’s Isle locals.) And Rowan was never the sacrifice; he was. For a sacrifice, they need a stranger connected to the community by blood. And who better than Edward Malus, the father of Summersisle’s grandchild? (That’s right, Summersisle is Willow’s mother!) Willow then reveals she took the bullets from Malus’s gun, and the crowd swarms him, not unlike a certain insect.

What follows is a preparation for the sacrifice. The crowd hobbles him with a mallet, then places a sort of bee helmet on his head and pour a swarm of angry hornets inside (Most people are probably familiar with Malus’s reaction to this process.) They then epi-pen him back to consciousness, drag him to the massive Wicker Man structure – a towering wicker replica of a man – and light it on fire. In fact, Rowan takes the torch to light it herself. The crowd chants, “The drone must die” as Malus is engulfed in flames.

Nicolas Cage, demonstrating improper use of a beekeeper's mask.

Nicolas Cage, demonstrating improper use of a beekeeper’s mask.

Takeaway points:

  • Having now seen both the original and remade The Wicker Man, I am obsessed with the significant differences. The original highlighted the officer’s puritanical hang-ups – as a proper Christian he was disturbed by their pagan ways long before he realized he was to be their sacrifice. Malus is likewise disturbed by the community at Summer’s Isle, but there’s no religious basis to his unease. The subtext of the original was that the officer was a virgin sacrifice (which also explained his unease with the freewheeling pagans and all their talk of phallic symbols and nude dancing). Given that Rowan is Malus’s daughter in the remake, the new version obviously scrapped that aspect. (Perhaps they figured no one would conceivably buy Nicolas Cage as a virgin.)
  • Additionally, the pagan island society in the new version is a lot less fun. In the original, the islanders sing and dance (often while naked), play games. They sing a rousing song at the finale while the officer burns alive – a scene far more disturbing than the “drone must die” chanting in this version. The 1973 Wicker Man is practically a musical! But it also highlights why one might enjoy being part of this pagan cult: it looks kind of fun. Being one of the dour sisters in this Summer’s Isle looks like no fun at all, and instead paints the pagans as more puritanical than the police officer, which makes almost nosense in the logic of the film.
  • At one point during the screening of The Wicker Man, I turned to our host, Lindsay, and asked, “Was this movie written by a men’s rights activist?” If we were (again) to sum up the theme of The Wicker Man as a hashtag, it would be #misandry. Cherry-picking from the theme of puritanical thought vs. pagan liberation that ran through the original, the opposition in the remake seems to be between Malus’s logical masculinity (his last name is literally a portmanteau of “man” and “phallus”) and Sister Summersisle’s (and the whole village’s) pagan femininity. And the film suggests that Summersisle is in the wrong – and not just because she’s a murderer! The unease with the feminine runs through The Wicker Man. Only the girl children are educated. Men in this matriarchal society are unable to act on their own – unable to even speak. When Malus runs to the inn for help, he yells at the assembled men to join him, but they’re so emasculated by life in Summer’s Isle, they won’t even raise their eyes. This would explain all the women-punching that happens in the film. The villagers call Malus a “drone” (bees without stingers, whose sole purpose is to mate), and, in the finale, remove the bullets from his gun. (Get it?) Yet this film is from Neil Labute, whose earlier films (like In the Company of Men) seemed to investigate misogyny with a critical eye. So, the question remains: is this depiction of a murderous, dangerous feminism for real? Or is it tongue-in-cheek? Intentionally over-the-top?
  • Nic Cage’s manic performance must also be discussed, and not only because it’s made the movie something of a cult classic (and possibly the only reason you may have heard of The Wicker Man). Why does Cage chew the scenery like a man denied artisanal honey his entire life? One possible answer is that he (and possibly the director Labute) see the film as a bizarre comedy. That the idea of feminism or a matriarchal society being any real threat to the current order or even the very existence life of men is so ludicrous, it can only be laughed at. Is that giving the makers of The Wicker Man too much credit?
  • The movie is dedicated to Johnny Ramone. Which is confusing to say the least. But a routine internet search reveals that Ramone and Nicolas Cage were friends, and Ramone introduced the actor to the original Wicker Man.

Truly terrifying or truly terrible?: It’s terrible. But it’s also terribly entertaining. (Not very scary, though.)

Tell me you can't envision those bee costumes on the runways of Milan.

Tell me you can’t envision those bee costumes on the runways of Milan.

Best outfit:Malus’s navy suit with brown elbow patches gets full marks. It’s very fashion-forward for a cop, and he wears it in nearly all circumstances, whether he be digging graves or going for a swim. However, the real winners of the fashion show are the kids wearing outstanding bee outfits during the final costume party / pagan death ritual.

Best line: It’s hard to choose just one. Should it be, upon seeing villagers carrying a wriggling, bloody bag, Malus asking, “What’s in the bag? A shark or something?” Or Malus ranting, “How’d it get burned?!” I have to go with a time-honoured classic: Malus, captured by the villagers and about to be hobbled, shouting, “Bitches! You bitches! This is murder! You’ll all be guilty! And you’re doing it for nothing! KILLING ME WON’T BRING BACK YOUR GODDAMN HONEY!”

Best kill: Malus’s powerful kick that sends Sister Honey flying into a wall of framed portraits is tremendous, but she (amazingly) doesn’t die as a result. If your movie is called The Wicker Man, the death inside the Wicker Man is probably going to be the best kill. And Malus’s death has it all: a difficult-to-watch Misery-like hobbling, a face full of bees, and our hero burning alive.

Unexpected cameo: The movie features some great character actors in smaller roles, but nothing can compare to the sight of a young James Franco, in an unfortunate post-credit sequence, being seduced by Sister Honey and a friend in a decidedly not-Summersislian bar. Franco, a recent graduate from the police academy, is to be one of the next victims of the Wicker Man.

Unexpected lesson learned: Sadly, I think the lesson the makers of the film want us to learn is something backward about feminism (see the takeaway points), but the real lesson is to always use the buddy system when infiltrating a cloistered pagan community.

Most suitable band name derived from the movie: Sister Summersisle.

Next up: Pet Sematary (1989).

31 Days of Fright: Paranormal Activity

Katie, not about to drop a bowling ball to show how comfortable her mattress is.

Katie, not about to drop a bowling ball to show how comfortable her mattress is.

This January, in support of the Toronto Rape Crisis Centre / Multicultural Women Against Rape, friends and family have raised over $1,000, which means I have to watch and write about thirty-one horror movies. I’ll watch (on average) one movie a night, many of them requested by donors, after which I’ll write some things about said movies on this website. Be forewarned that all such write-ups will contain spoilers! We kick things off with the found-footage sensation that became a cultural phenomenon: Paranormal Activity (2007), directed by Oren Peli. It was suggested by friend and former co-worker Christina Palassio, who was looking to recommend horror movies that don’t feature violence against women. Palassio was one of my mentors and work partners when I was publicist at Coach House Books, and now works at Community Food Centres Canada, an organization that aims to bring together people to grow, cook, and share good, healthy food in communities across Canada. I rented Paranormal Activity from my local, Queen Video.

What happens:

Paranormal Activity certainly wasn’t the first found-footage horror movie. The extremely nasty Cannibal Holocaust (1980) usually gets credit for that, though the effective Blair Witch Project (1999) was probably the first of the sub-genre to find widespread success. And horror films since Häxan: Witchcraft through the Ages have claimed to be documentary realism. But Paranormal Activity was the movie that turned allegedly found footage into a supremely successful horror movie franchise. (To date there are six movies under the Paranormal Activity banner.)

The film opens with a thanks to Micah Sloat, Katie Featherston, and the San Diego Police Department, so we can assume things are not going to end well. The first clip dates from September 18, 2006, and the events of the movie will take viewers through October 10, all while maintaining the artifice that film subjects Micah and Katie are real people who were the victims of some sort of paranormal event.

Katie arrives home to find herself being filmed by her boyfriend with an elaborately large video camera. Why does Micah have such a complicated camera? To record all the paranormal activity that either has or hasn’t been going on, of course. Their house is fairly large (and even comes with a swimming pool), so when Micah mentions the camera costs half what he makes in a day, we know we’re dealing with a baller. While preparing dinner, Micah outlines the plot to the movie – that he’s going to set up the recording equipment in their bedroom to record overnight, so he can have proof of the supernatural phenomena Katie claims to have experienced – all while haphazardly brandishing a kitchen knife. (Foreshadowing?)

The crafty Katie (we see her both knitting and making jewelry) would prefer no more paranormal activity to happen in the house, but Micah thinks it would be cool to obtain evidence. He’s also keen on having a camera so he can attempt to pressure his girlfriend into on-camera stripteases. (He’s unsuccessful.) The first night, nothing much happens, save a few weird sounds after 2 a.m. In the morning, Katie finds her keys were tossed onto the kitchen floor. (Are you scared yet?) They decide to invite over a psychic, Dr. Frederichs, dressed in his best Ralph Lauren business casual. He learns a bit about the couple: they’ve been together for three years, she’s a student, he’s a day trader, etc. He also learns that Katie has been visited by spirits since age 8, when a shadowy figure would stand at the foot of her bed and she’d be unable to move. (This is textbook sleep paralysis.) The presence has followed her from house to house ever since. After the psychic is given a tour of their digs, as if in an episode of Haunted Cribs, he warns, “These hauntings feed off negative energy.”

An in-depth conversation regarding the differences between ghosts and demons follows, with the psychic deciding what Micah and Katie has is probably the latter. And demon-based stuff is not his wheelhouse. He recommends a demonologist, Dr. Johann Averies, to call if things get worse and makes his exit. But not before warning Micah not to try to communicate with the demon in any way. Later that night, the bedroom door opens and closes on its own volition around two. The next day Micah shows Katie the evidence, and he slowly starts to buy into the idea of a world beyond ours.

Micah is a day trader and plays guitar. Just when we’re pretty sure he can’t get any worse, he reads a book in bed on the occult and mansplains demons to his girlfriend. (Thanks, doofus, for reiterating what the psychic told you last night.) Katie says she’s through messing around with this demon, but Micah, playing literal Devil’s advocate, is of another mind. Plus, he argues, Katie never told him about her demon problem before they moved in together, so he should have some say in how they handle it.

Things get more paranormal. Audio recorded overnight seems to reveal an unnatural sound. Micah theorizes whatever is in their house is trying to communicate with them; he suggests using a Ouija board to communicate with it. Katie, completely freaked out, begs him to promise he won’t buy a Ouija board and will instead leave this demon thing alone. A few nights later (Night #13), the couple is awakened by a loud thump, which is then followed by a mighty roar downstairs. They go to investigate, but only see the living-room chandelier swinging all on its own. (No Sia required.) Katie begins to suspect the camera equipment is worsening the increased paranormal activity.

Micah, demonstrating how NewMusic videographers of old used to work.

Micah, demonstrating how NewMusic videographers of old used to work.

On Night #15, Katie bolts up in bed at 1:30, then stands and stares at the sleeping Micah for two hours straight (which does not, thankfully, run in real-time) before leaving the room. When Micah awakes, he finds Katie shivering in a swing chair beside the pool. As he coaxes her inside, they hear a massive bang. Something turned the television in their bedroom on to play loud static. Katie remembers none of the previous night’s events when she awakes the next morning.

Against Katie’s express wishes, Micah brings in the most demonic-looking Ouija board I’ve ever seen, explaining, “I didn’t buy a Ouija board; I borrowed it.” Because he’s terrible. This leads to a massive argument before the couple leaves for a night out. While they’re gone, the camera records the planchette of the Ouija board (which Micah calls a ‘cursor,’ like a noob) moving of its own accord before setting the board aflame. (That’s a loaner board, demon!) When they return, Micah tries to show his girlfriend what happened to the board, but Katie (who sounds very Texan when agitated), just screams at him to “get out!” “I think she’s upset,” the man-child, Micah, giggles.

He’s able to patch things up by swearing, in front of the camera, to abide by Katie’s rules and not purposely offend the entity, but Micah also endeavours to figure out what the entity was trying to spell on his borrowed Ouija board. Katie thinks things have gone far enough and wants to call the demonologist, but Micah remains opposed to inviting this Johann Averies into his house. Instead, he sprinkles baby powder all over the second-floor landing to see if something might walk through it. On Night #17 at 3:15, footsteps appear in the baby powder and wake Micah up. The footsteps lead back to a hallway closet, where Micah and Katie discover a ceiling panel has been left slightly ajar!

Micah sets up a ladder and ascends into the attic crawlspace with his camera. Digging through a pile of messy insulation, he discovers an old photo, burned along the edges. He shows the photo to Katie: it’s her as a child, in the driveway of her first house. Katie didn’t even know the photo still existed! She’s reached a breaking point, so she finally calls Averies, who is currently out of town. Desperate, she tries the original psychic, Dr. Fredrichs, again. But before he can visit, more poltergeisty events occur: their bedroom door slams and won’t let them escape one night, Katie feels a presence breathing on her, and a photo of the couple is smashed by an unseen force, with only Micah’s face suffering damage.

Dr. Frederichs eventually returns – this time, with glasses! – and provides no help whatsoever. He panics in the presence of the demonic entity, telling Katie he has to leave immediately, as he’s probably aggravating it. But Dr. Averies should be back in a few days, he assures her. The fitful nights begin to take their toll on the couple, who argue more. (Watch that negative energy, you crazy kids!) Katie frequently breaks into tears. On Night #19, something enters their bedroom and lifts the covers from their bodies.

Micah finds a website in which a ‘Diane’ (a possible name that the Ouija board might have spelled that night) recounts similar experiences that happened to her in the 1960s. (I’m curious as to the Google search that yielded that result.) The following night, Katie is literally pulled out of her bed by one leg and dragged out of the room by an unseen presence, which closes the door behind them. Micah makes chase and eventually rescues her, but Katie is understandably shaken. Furthermore, the entity has left a strange welt or bite on her side.

Plans are made to flee to a hotel, but are stymied by (a) Katie being found unconscious with a crucifix squeezed so tightly in her hand it draws blood, and (b) Katie (with a slightly demonic inflection in her voice) deciding it would be better if they stayed in the house. On Night #21 – the final night – Katie bolts awake again, stares at Micah for a couple hours, then goes downstairs. She starts screaming bloody murder on the first floor, and Micah leaps out of bed to find her. Once downstairs, he also begins to scream. We then hear footsteps on the stairs, and Micah’s lifeless body is suddenly hurled at the camera. Katie then enters in a trance, shirt covered in blood. She stoops to sniff at Micah’s corpse, then crawls over to the camera and lunges at the lens. Following this final shot, end credits reveal Micah’s body was found the next day, but Katie has been missing ever since.

For all the help this psychic was, he might as well have been wearing a red shirt.

For all the help this psychic was, he might as well have been wearing a red shirt.

Takeaway points:

  • Found footage has become something of a tired cliché in horror film, but there’s a reason it often works. The grainy footage of security cameras or camcorders mimics the look of local news broadcasts, making the scary bits more realistic. This is the same reason I maintain the scariest movies were shot in the 1970s: the film stock looks like real life. Modern film stock (or digital recording) makes everything look so detailed and shiny that it becomes ultra-real. Almost fantastical. The night-time video recordings of the couple in their bedroom are cousins to the genuinely creepy security cam footage of Elisa Lam and other such subjects of eerie urban legends. But too often this power of found footage is squandered on substandard jump scares, as is the case in Paranormal Activity.
  • One theme of this film is, as they might say on Twitter, #masculinitysofragile you won’t call a demonologist. Though Paranormal Activity clearly features a malevolent demon of some kind, is the real monster the insecurity of the male sex? Time and time again, the couple decides against calling noted demon expert, Dr. Johann Averies, all because Micah is uncomfortable having Averies in his home. He assures himself (and Katie) he can solve this paranormal problem on his own, as if a call for aid from another man would emasculate him. When the demonic entity strikes out at them, Micah responds with testosterone-laced vocal threats and angry tirades. Everything from the size of his pool to the size of his video camera defines Micah as a man insecure in his masculinity. And if Paranormal Activity shows us anything, it shows us the deadly consequences a fragile masculinity can have.
  • Likewise, Micah’s constant refusal to seek aid from Dr. Johann Averies – as well as his need to personally record evidence of the paranormal activity his girlfriend claims is happening (instead of just believing her) – mirrors certain segments of the political right’s ongoing war against expertise. Climate change? I don’t need to hear what some meteorologist says; I personally felt cold this past winter. When he reads up on demons in bed, re-learning what the psychic already told him, Micah demonstrates he won’t accept any information unless he learned or observed it himself. This is not unlike certain relatives of yours on Facebook, am I right?
  • Call the Demonologist sounds like an amazing, alternate-reality BBC answer to the show, Call the Midwife.
  • Prior to one night of paranormal hijinks, Katie is filmed applying deodorant before bed. Is this a thing people do? I have been putting on deodorant at the entirely wrong time of day?

Truly terrifying or truly terrible?: Paranormal Activity is not a terrible movie, but neither is it terrifying. The film is most akin to a parlour trick, which might shock and surprise in the moment, but has no lingering feelings of terror, no ongoing sense of unease. Do fans rewatch the Paranormal Activity movies? I’d sooner believe in Ouija boards spontaneously combusting.

Micah Sloat Club Essentials, available now from International Clothiers.

Micah Sloat Club Essentials, available now from International Clothiers.

Best outfit: The wardrobe in Paranormal Activity is normcore to the max, so it’s unthinkable to reward any of it with the title of ‘Best Outfit.’ I suppose the idea is that Katie and Micah are just regular folks like you and me – this paranormal activity could happen to anyone! – so they costume them as generically as possible. If I had to pick a standout look, it would be Micah’s “going-out” outfit, which will be familiar to anyone who’s seen a straight white man hit the clubs: collared shirt with vertical stripes (top couple buttons open), baggy designer jeans, boxy dress shoes. It’s the official uniform of men in Toronto’s Entertainment District, and just may have been the scariest thing in Paranormal Activity.

Best line: ‘Not a single thing you’ve done has helped.’ – Katie, with a pretty fair assessment of Micah

Best kill: There is literally only one murder in this movie, so, by default, it takes the prize. But as far as horror movie murders go, screaming off-screen then throwing a corpse into a camera is not going to make it into the Horror Hall of Fame.

Unexpected cameo: The cast is almost entirely unknowns, but Mark Fredrichs, who plays ineffectual psychic Dr. Frederichs, kind of looks like George W. Bush when he used to clear sagebrush on Casual Fridays.

Unexpected lesson learned: If you have the number of a reputable demonologist, do not sit on that. Call early, call often.

Most suitable band name derived from the movie: APB Experiment #1

Next up: The Wicker Man (2006).