Evil Dead Rise

I had half seen it before and today I finally fitted the puzzle together. I had not watched the first forty-five minutes, which is why at the beginning everything felt familiar without my being sure, and then, once the building, the possessed mother, the parking garage and the basement machine arrived, the memory came back completely. Now I can say I have seen the whole thing.

I think it is much better than Lee Cronin’s The Mummy, although it confirms something that makes me uncomfortable about his way of understanding horror: he really likes the viscous, the bodily, the repulsive. Here that fits better because this is Evil Dead, a saga where demonic possession, rivers of blood and physical cruelty are part of the contract. Even so, for my taste there are moments when it goes too far.

The film works because it does not simply try to copy Sam Raimi’s cabin. Moving from the woods to an apartment building gives it an identity of its own and turns the family into a trap. Evil does not arrive among a group of young people isolated in the middle of nowhere, but among a mother, her children and a sister who appears at the worst possible moment. That gives it a fairly effective domestic-horror angle.

Alyssa Sutherland is very good as Ellie. When possession begins to devour her, the film finds its most powerful image: a mother turned into a threat to her own children. That does have force, because it perverts something very basic. What should be shelter becomes danger, and every time she speaks from the other side of the door or looks with that twisted smile, the film manages to unsettle.

Lily Sullivan also works as Beth, and I liked her more than I expected. At first she reminded me of another film, until we went through Malevolent, Maleficent and Malignant and ruled them out, but beyond the resemblance to other actresses, she holds the role well. Beth is not a perfect heroine; she is someone who arrives full of doubts and ends up forced to become the adult the children need.

The niece’s line made me laugh: “You’ll be a good mom someday, Aunt Beth... you know how to lie to kids.” It is a good line because it brings in black humor without completely breaking the tension. There I do feel the Evil Dead spirit: not only blood and screaming, but nastiness, timing and that uncomfortable laugh that appears when everything is already absolutely lost.

The problem is that some scenes cross a line that interests me less and less. The eye being bitten, ripped out and then shoved into another character’s mouth seemed repulsive to me. It did not scare me; it disgusted me. And that is an important difference. I can enjoy gore when it has imagination, rhythm or a playful purpose, but when the film dwells so much on the viscous, it pushes me out.

There is also some excess for excess’s sake. I understand that in Evil Dead brutality is almost an obligation, and I admit that Cronin organizes the chaos better here than in The Mummy. But at times it again feels as if he is thinking: “how can I make this even more unpleasant?”. And more unpleasant does not always mean more terrifying. Sometimes it only means harder to look at.

I liked the use of the old recordings because it connects with the original. That tape of the professor reading the Book of the Dead was already an essential part of the myth, and here the 1923 records work as a variation. Besides, for me it triggered the memory of Psilicon Flesh and that tribute song, “The Evil Dead”, with audio fragments and “Dead, Evil Dead...” repeated like a mantra. That gave it an unexpected nostalgic touch.

The final stretch in the parking garage is brutal, very physical and quite memorable. The composite creature, the heavy machinery and the feeling that everything ends in an impossible mass of flesh and metal have visual force. It is not elegant, and it does not need to be. There the film embraces its nature as a bloody haunted-house ride and goes all the way.

I also like how it links back to the characters at the lake from the beginning. That prologue seemed like a separate piece, almost just an impact opening, and in the end it fits as part of the same possession cycle. It is a simple but effective way of reminding you that evil has not been closed off, that the story can repeat itself and that in this universe there is always someone stupid enough to play what should not be played.

In the end, I leave it at a 6. It is well made within its own terms, has energy, good actresses, moments of black humor and some powerful images. But it also has too much gore for my taste and several scenes that produce more rejection than fear. As an Evil Dead entry, it works much better than I expected; as a Lee Cronin film, it confirms that his obsession with guts is hard for me. Wild, unpleasant, effective at times and much superior to his mummy, but not a film I fully enjoy.