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January 4, 2016December 19, 2017

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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).

January 4, 2016January 1, 2018

31 Days of Fright: Pet Sematary

This cat was robbed at the Golden Globes in 1989.

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! Today’s film is a movie often considered one of the better adaptations of Stephen King’s work, Pet Sematary (1989), directed by Mary Lambert (director of Madonna’s best music videos, like “Like a Prayer” and “Material Girl“). The film was requested by ECW Press Creative Director (and my books’ copyeditor), Crissy Calhoun. She’s also the author of numerous books on pop culture, like Love You to Death: The Unofficial Companion to The Vampire Diaries. The DVD was provided by my local video store, Queen Video.

What happens:

A young, white family drives their station wagon to their new home in the Maine countryside (this is Stephen King, after all), and we instantly know from the bumper sticker that one of them is a doctor. That doctor is Dr. Louis Creed (Dale Midkiff), and he and his wife, Rachel (Denise Crosby, a.k.a. Tasha Yar!), daughter Ellie (Blaze Berdahl), toddler, Gage (Miko Hughes), and the blue-gray family cat, Winston Churchill (or “Church”) have moved from Chicago so that Dr. Creed can work at the university hospital. This perfect new home is, unfortunately, right beside a very busy road frequented by many an eighteen-wheeler. “One mean road,” as a character later proclaims. In fact, toddler Gage nearly toddles right out onto the highway and it’s only new neighbour Jud Crandall (Fred Gwynne – Herman Munster himself!) who prevents him from becoming road pizza.

Thankful for their helpful neighbour, Rachel asks the older man what the mysterious path behind their house leads to, and Jud, font of homespun wisdom, cryptically says, “That’s a good story. We’ll talk about it one day.” That day occurs one night soon after, when, over beers, Jud tells Louis the path leads to a pet cemetery, in which many of the four-legged residents met their dooms right on the roadway in front of his house. After the family meets their new housekeeper, Missy (Susan Blommaert), a perennially agitated woman with stomach problems who laments that she never met a doctor, they go with Jud on a field trip to the pet cemetery. Or “pet sematary,” as the sign reads. (“It’s misspelled,” Rachel says. Are we sure she’s not the doctor?)

Jud reveals his dog Spot (who died in 1924) is buried here, and this leads to a general discussion of pet mortality. One that Rachel is not prepared for her young kids to have. Jud, however, feels the need to expose the youngsters to the idea of finality, and waxes poetic on the pet cemetery, noting, “the graveyard is where the dead speak.” All the death talk affects young Ellie something fierce, and soon she’s complaining to her dad about her cat Church’s inevitable end. Louis tells his daughter that neutering Church will make him less likely to run into the road and get hit by a car. Upon Rachel’s urging, he literally promises Church won’t get run over by a truck. (Can you see where this is going?)

Cut to the university campus, where a bunch of students are hauling a gruesome car accident victim to Dr. Creed. Unfortunately, there’s nothing Louis can do for the young jogger, but after the victim flatlines, he seemingly springs momentarily to life and cryptically whispers to the doctor, “The soil of a man’s hear is stonier, Louis.” How did he know the doctor’s name? The dead jogger, Victor Pascow (Brad Greenquist), soon visits Louis in his sleep. Death hasn’t improved his massive head wound any, and he beckons Louis to follow him to the pet sematary. He says he wants to help Louis because Louis tried to help him. Standing in the pet graveyard, he gestures to the hill beyond and warns him not to go to “the place where the dead walk,” for the barrier was not meant to be crossed. Louis awakes in the morning, convinced it was just a vivid dream, but when he pulls his sheets back, his feet are caked in dirt!

Thanksgiving looms on the horizon. Rachel is taking the kids to her parents’ place, but Louis (who starts to look more and more like Dr. Michael Mancini from Melrose Place) won’t be joining them. (Her dad isn’t a fan of Louis joining the family, for reasons not fully explored.) Promptly after his wife and kids leave, Louis discovers the cat, Church, has been hit by a car. He goes over the Jud’s front lawn to retrieve the corpse and pulls it from the frostbitten ground. (“Like a sticky note off a letter,” Jud remarks on the sound.) Louis frets over how he’ll break the news to Ellie, but Jud tells him there may be a better way.

You could probably already tell, but he’s a friendly ghost. Like Casper!

Jud and Louis, dead cat in hand, hike beyond the pet sematary and up that hill the ghost warned Louis about. They clamber over dangerous bramble and hear terrifying animal sounds until they reach a series of concentric circles and stones situated on the earth. The spot is a Mik’maq burial ground, Jud informs him, and it’s where Louis should bury Ellie’s cat. When Louis asks why, Jud mysteriously says he has his reasons. The process of burial takes well into the night – Jud can’t help Louis dig, he insists – and when they return to the Creed household, Jud suggests Louis not tell his family what they did. He then quotes Pascow’s line about stonier hearts and Louis is freaked right out. So much so that when he talks to his kids on the telephone, he can’t event respond when Gage says he loves him. Daddy can’t talk right now; his heart is all stony.

Working in the garage the next day, Louis hears a monstrous yowl. Church has returned, though his glowing eyes suggest he might not be exactly the same. Louis inspects the cat more thoroughly and it seems fine. He goes to Jud, assuming they accidentally buried the cat alive, but Jud knows better. Jud describes how he first buried his Spot in that Mik’maq burial ground, but when the dog came back, he was still cut up and wasn’t the same dog at all. When Spot died a second time, they buried him in the pet sematary. Louis asks the forbidden question – “Has anyone ever buried a person up there?” – and Jud is horrified by the mere suggestion.

Later that night, Dr. Creed draws a bath and indulges in some much-needed “me” time, but before long, the undead Church tosses a dead rat into his bath and begins to hiss at him. Chuch came back not quite all right, and Ellie already suspects something half the country away in Chicago. When Louis meets his family at the airpot, Ellie can’t believe her cat is okay. She’s been having dreams that Church was hit by a truck and Jud and her dad buried the cat in the pet sematary. Ellie also notices, once she sees the cat in person, that Church has acquired an awful new stench. “Can cats have shampoo?” she asks.

Around this time, Missy, unable to take her chronic stomach pain any longer, hangs herself in her basement. The Creeds’ attendance at her funeral prompts some existential questions from Ellie about life and death and what happens after. Given recent events, Louis tells Ellie he believes there’s something after life. Rachel, overhearing the conversation, is torn. She’s proud her husband can discuss death with their daughter in such a frank, loving way, but all the death talk reminds her of her childhood. In flashback, we learn Rachel had to take care of her older sister, Zelda, who had spinal meningitis, and whom her parents kept in the back room “like a dirty secret.” Zelda looks like a twisted skeleton, driven mad by her physical infirmity, and Rachel recalls how she sometimes wished Zelda would die. (Eventually she did, obvi.)

Because basically everyone and everything in this movie gets killed by a speeding truck, Louis and Rachel’s young son becomes the next victim to the mean road outside their house. In a truly troubling scene, Gage runs out into the road during a family picnic and is hit (off-screen) by a tractor trailer. In the days that follow, Rachel becomes nearly catatonic, while Ellie maintains that God could bring Gage back if He wanted to. Jud (always offering hot takes on mortality to other people’s kids) says he doesn’t think God works that way. Or does he?!

At the funeral, Rachel’s dad violently attacks Louis, yelling, I told her something like this would happen!” The resulting scuffle causes them to knock over the miniature-sized coffin and send little Gage’s body flying out. (Just in case you were wondering if this movie was going to pull any punches.) Louis goes home, sees his demon cat lying on his distraught wife’s chest and begins to wonder. Jud, drinking downstairs, already knows what Louis is thinking and attempt to stop him. He recounts the story of Timmy Baderman, a boy killed on his way home from World War II. His parents buried him up by the Mik’maq burial ground, and he returned, but death turned him into a deranged zombie, clawing at his own flesh, stalking neighbours. Eventually, the townsfolk turned on the Baderman boy and a small mob set fire to the Baderman house with the boy inside. “Sometimes death is better,” Jud assures Louis. “The Indians knew that. They stopped using that place.”

I unearthed my dead toddler in the middle of night. What could go wrong?

Ellie begins to dream of someone called “Paxkow,” and Rachel decides to take Ellie with her to her parents for a few days after Louis and her dad make peace. Louis has to work and can’t join them for a few days. But when the cat is away, the mice will play. And by “play,” I mean “dig up his dead son and perform an unoly rite to bring him back to life.” Pascow visits Louis as well as his daughter, and warns him again that the ground is sour. But Louis is undeterred. He reasons if Gage comes back wrong, he can always put him “back to sleep.” I guess because killing your undead toddler is a totes easy thing to do. That night, Louis heads to the not-pet sematary and starts digging.

Back in Chicago, Ellie is again visited by a ghost she calls “Paxkow” in her sleep. She tells her mom about “Paxkow” and that he’s a good ghost, trying to watch out for her dad. The name triggers something in Rachel’s memory, and the ghost of Pascow begins to, unseen, guide her back home. Rachel calls home and no one answers. Her dreams are haunted by the terrifying spectre of her dead sister Zelda, who says she and Gage are coming for her. Rachel decides to immediately take a flight home. Every step of the way, Pascow helps her, delaying flights so Rachel can make her connection, guiding car rental agencies to suggest other cars when all options seem impossible. She is, of course, too late. By the time she gets behind the seat of her rental car, Louis has already buried Gage in the place where the dead walk. Or, rather, piled a bunch of stones on top of his corpse.

Nevertheless, Rachel speeds home, driving so quickly she surely wouldn’t be able to stop if a child were to run into the road. Her tire blows out, so Pascow uses his ghost Force to make a trucker pick her up and drive her the rest of the way. (A trucker! Like the kind who ran over her kid!) That very same night, li’l Gage returns, dressed in his Sunday best, and, first-things-first, he secretly rummages through his dad’s medical bag and extracts the scalpel.

Across the roadway, Jud has fallen asleep on his front porch. When he wakes, he’s startled by small, wet footprints that lead into his house and the distant sound of giggling. Jud follows into the house to the sounds of a child exclaiming, “Hide and go seek!” Following the sounds, he enters his bedroom and takes out his hunting knife for protection. He’s just about look under the bed when Church yowls and distracts him. Gage, hiding under the bed, takes the opportunity to cut deep into Jud’s Achilles tendon with the scalpel. He then slashes his neighbour across the mouth, and finally bites into Jud’s throat, tearing it out.

The trucker brings Rachel to her door, and Pascow, riding shotgun but invisible to both riders, informs the audience he can’t help any further. Rachel goes to check on Jud, and in his bedroom finds Zelda, who says, “I’m going to twist your back so you never get out of bed again!” (Which is not really how spinal meningitis works.) Rachel blinks and Zelda has been replaced by her son, Gage, dressed in Zelda’s old clothing. “I brought you something, Mommy,” he says. Spoiler alert: it’s a scalpel.

Louis Creed, apparently a fairly heavy sleeper, wakes up to find Gage-sized footsteps on his floor and the scalpel taken from his doctor’s bag. The telephone rings and his father-in-law asks if Rachel arrived all right. Louis, in shock that something may have happened to her, pretends Rachel arrived fine. Rachel’s dad is insistent on talking to her, as Ellie has been hysterical with nightmares that her mom has died. Louis hangs up on his father-in-law. (That’s not going to win him over.) When the phone rings almost immediately afterward, it’s not him, but Gage, who spookily says, “First I played with Jud, then Mommy came, and I played with Mommy.” The final confrontation is at hand.

Louis crosses the street to Jud’s house with a hypodermic needle in hand. Church sits outside like a gargoyle, protecting the unholy house, but Louis lures the cat into a false sense of security with a raw steak, then jabs it in the butt with his needle full of death. Inside, Jud’s house appears filled with rotting goo, but it’s just an illusion. Upstairs, Louis finds Jud’s mangled corpse, then backs into the hallway, where – horror – his wife’s body drops from the attic, hanging by a noose. From that same attic, Gage leaps on his dad from above and begins slashing him with a scalpel. After a fierce struggle, Louis gains the upper hand and slowly stabs his undead son in the neck with the hypodermic needle. Gage topples backward and dies a second time.

Gasoline jug in hand, Louis begins the task of setting Jud’s house on fire. But he doesn’t leave the burning building empty-handed; he’s brought Rachel’s body with him. Pascow’s ghost returns to dissuade him from repeating his mistakes, but Louis has rationalized it to himself. He waited too long to resurrect Gage, he says, this time he’ll bring Rachel back right away. The final scene of the film shows a rotting Rachel, one eye merely a gory socket, returning to the Creed family kitchen. Louis and the undead Rachel passionately kiss, then she reaches for the knife.

No matter how much you want them to grow up to be doctors, don’t let your kids play with scalpels.

Takeaway points:

Pet Sematary succeeded as my favourite of the horror movies I’ve watched so far, probably because it’s one that tackles a theme that interests me immensely: how we (as a society, as a culture) deal with death. The various viewpoints presented – Jud’s frank discussion of death with his neighbour’s children, Rachel’s attempt to shield the children from death, Louis’s refusal to bow to death (fitting, given his profession) – present differing ways people cope with death. What really got to me was Rachel’s story about her sister Zelda, and how her family treated her (and her slow death) as a “dirty secret.” North American culture (and WASPy North American culture, in particular) tends to treat death as a dirty secret, as something that should be kept behind closed doors. The general thesis of the film seems to be that it’s better to accept death as part of everyday life. Visually, this point is garishly made when Gage’s little corpse is knocked out of its closed casket. As Jud says to Louis (several times), “Sometimes death is better.”
For Buffy the Vampire Slayer fans, this movie is obviously an inspiration for the episode, “Forever,” in which Dawn attempts to bring her and Buffy’s mother back from the grave. They make the same conclusion, that sometimes death is better.
The film also participates in that horror movie trope of “the mystical indigenous person.” “Indian” burial grounds always seem to have supernatural powers, and the Mik’maq burial ground in Pet Sematary is no different. This mystical treatment of a modern indigenous culture is a bit troubling, to say the least: as if slowly destroying indigenous society through a process of cultural genocide weren’t enough, we’re also going to make you our boogeymen. Enjoy!
Most of the movie I spent trying to place Jud Crandall’s accent. Apparently it’s a Maine accent, but I couldn’t help picture Jimmy Stewart who had drank one too many scotches.
Let us take a moment to praise the work of the cat actor who portrayed Church. I have never seen cat-acting like that featured in Pet Sematary. Church was played by seven different cats, but the scene that most impressed me was the death scene. The cat’s movements were so convincing, I was a little worried they just straight-up murdered a cat. Bravo, seven cats who played Church. Bravo!
In what seems like an impossible coincidence, Pet Sematary is the second horror film in two nights to feature a Ramones connection. The careless trucker who runs over Gage is blasting “Sheena Is a Punk Rocker” at the moment of impact, and the end credits feature an original Ramones tune, “Pet Sematary.” To whit: “I don’t wanna’ be buried / in a Pet Sematary.” Too true, Joey Ramone.

Truly terrifying or truly terrible?: Pet Sematary mostly lives up to the hype. Sure, there are scenes or lines of dialogue that seem a little hokey, but there are also really unsettling scenes, including the unbearable suspense leading up to Jud’s gruesome death and the truly upsetting sight of Rachel’s zombie-like sister, Zelda. Plus, the movie has a friendly ghost! One of my favourite things! But friendly ghost or not, I was still a bit creeped out.

Dazzling WASP wear and old-timey farmer togs, both appropriate outfits for a jaunt to your local pet sematary.

Best outfit: Rachel Creed is by far the best-dressed character in Pet Sematary, but it’s hard to rank one of her outfits over any others. Perhaps her “jaunt to a cemetery” outfit – comprised of a crisp white blouse, long plaid shorts, and high socks – is the best of the bunch.

Best line: “He’s not God’s cat, he’s my cat! Let God get his own cat if he wants one!” – Ellie Creed, learning about pet mortality

Best kill: Two of the worst injuries I can imagine are having your Achilles tendon cut and having your smile widened by a knife. That Jud Crandall’s unceremonious death incorporates both at the hands of a toddler is, frankly, really impressive.

Unexpected cameo: It’s always a pleasure seeing Tasha Yar (Denise Crosby) get work. And Blaze Berdahl, who plays Ellie Creed, is better known as one of the young sleuths on the 90s children’s television show, Ghostwriter. But best of all is the author of the book, Stephen King, portraying a minister at the housekeeper Missy’s funeral.

Unexpected lesson(s) learned: (1) Even if you’re sleeping outside, always wear shoes without open heels. I bet Jud regretted his choice of slipper when he felt Gage’s blade cut through his ankle. (2) When you’re buying a new family home, try to visit it during a weekday so you get a sense of how busy the nearby traffic is.

Most suitable band name derived from the movie: Pascow’s Ghost. Or, taken from a tombstone in the pet sematary: Biffer, Biffer, a Hell of a Sniffer.

Next up: Ju-On (2002).