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 Hellbent
The killer in Hellbent, the new gay slasher from writer/director
Paul Etheredge-Ouzts, wears a devil mask that obscures
the top half of his face (faggot of the opera?), no shirt,
clutches a razor-sharp scythe, and stalks the gay dudes
of West Hollywood. As he does so, the moonlight glistens
off his chest and arms' bulging muscles. Sounds
kind of sexy, and it is, until the mystery assailant lops
off the head of a boy who is getting serviced in the front
seat of his car. And you thought the guys on Craigslist
were scary.
News of the decapitation travels fast to Eddie (Dylan Fergus),
a young cop, and his three horny friends Joey (Hank Harris),
Tobey (Matt Phillips), and Chaz (Andrew Levitas). On Halloween
eve, the quartet decide to visit the crime scene on their
way to Santa Monica Boulevard's festivities, only
to be spotted by the masked madman leering at them through
the shrubbery. And from there, the game is on: Determined
to collect these boys' heads, the killer follows
them as they drink, dance, flirt, and try to hook up. Although
a cop, Eddie has a secret disability that hinders his career
... and chances to survive.
First time feature director Etheredge-Ouzts delivers a
fun, bloody, and sexy slasher treat that will satisfy horror
hounds and gays in search of a date movie alike. It's
infinitely more entertaining than your generic Friday The
13th sequel/crossover/etc. where you're simply waiting
around for the masked killer to dispatch his (irritating)
victims in gruesome fashions. More like Bob Clark's
seminal 1974 slasher entry Black Christmas (one of the
director's admitted favorites), you actually enjoy
watching HellBent's characters live a while. The
writing is good, and so is the brisk pacing.
Fergus is likeable and good-looking, yet vulnerable, and
his chemistry with his tough guy crush, Jake, played by
edgily handsome Bryan Kirkwood, is believable. This being
a slasher film, the killer (Luke Weaver) will probably
not stay down for long (if at all) past the closing credits,
so here's hoping a sequel is in the works. And,
if I may be so brave as to make a creative suggestion to
Etheredge-Ouzts, how about that scythe does its good work
in South Beach next time? Now if only you could make those
sorts of characters likeable. -- Matthew Dalton
 The Outsiders: The Complete Novel
The film version of S.E. Hinton's classic novel
hit movie theaters back in 1983 thanks to the urging of
110 students, their school librarian in Fresno, CA and,
of course, Francis Ford Coppola. For many, The Outsiders
is a teenage reader's rite of passage, and a letter
addressed to Coppola rallied him to turn the beloved novel
into a film. Twenty-plus years later, Coppola revisits
the greasers and socs to fine tune the story of these rival,
rural 1960s Oklahoma teens in an attempt to be truer to
the source material. The result, The Outsiders: The Complete
Novel, is a noble but mostly unnecessary effort.
I am a fan of the original film, and although I must admit
I haven't seen the 1983 version in more than a few
years (and it's been longer since I read the book),
this retooled and re-structured rendition feels a little
too forced. And I'll blame one element: the music.
More on that in a moment. The 22 minutes of additional
footage intended to flesh out the characters is fine, although
I'm not really sure how much it truly adds to these
former brat-packers' character dimensions. (Most
viewers will probably be too preoccupied studying the then-unknown
stars: check out a pre-tooth-capped Cruise or a soft-lit
and gorgeous Diane Lane.) There's a new opening
sequence and the ending is more faithful to the novel's.
All this "new" footage is integrated rather
seamlessly, so this, as I've mentioned, is not where
I take issue.
Infused with a new score (including some great and time-appropriate
Elvis tunes), the musical changes that don't fit
and really sting are the loud, distracting, supposedly-techno-cool
jolts of noise that spike in dramatic scenes better suited
to ... God, may I suggest silence? Okay, how about
subtlety? The Pulp Fiction-esque smashes of music seem
so oddly out of place for a film vested with such nostalgia.
We don't want or need the sonic reminders: "In
case it isn't clear, this is where there is extreme
tension or anxiety! CAN'T YOU HEAR IT in the music?
In case our story really sucks (Outsiders' doesn't)
this musical 'cue' will be sure to alert you
when you should be scared, moved, or otherwise manipulated." Music,
specifically a film score, should complement its surroundings,
never overpower them. In The Outsiders: The Complete Novel,
there are too many moments when the revved-up, amped-up
sound arsenal barrages its viewers. Maybe a new generation,
used to their movies tailor-made to music/movie marketing,
will embrace the updated Outsiders, but I'll stick
to the original. -- Wally King
 Proof
Proof is the smartest, most romantic movie you'll see this
year. And that's not just because Gwyneth Paltrow and
Jake Gyllenhaal, two of the smartest, best-looking people
in the movies, star as nerds in David Audburn's adaptation
of his own heady, intellectual drama for the stage. It's
a challenging choice for director John Madden (Shakespeare
in Love) because the central relationship in Proof is
actually a three-way. Before Paltrow will allow space
in her heart for Gyllenhaal, she must let go of her anger
and love for his favorite professor and her father (Anthony
Hopkins). We meet Hopkins after he's succumbed to an
increasingly debilitating strain of schizophrenia --
all the more heartbreaking because he was once a brilliant
mathematician. Now math and the weather are one in his
head. If that's the case, who wrote the earth-shattering
mathematical proof in his notebooks? Look, I barely got
through high school algebra, so, you won't need a degree
to get the cheeky back and forth of a thoroughly modern
relationship on campus or to relate to Paltrow's unwillingness
to take credit for the proof until Jake decides he wants
her for her body and her mind. You'll also appreciate
Hope Davis' brassy turn as Paltrow's big sister who cares
more about mocha lattes than square roots. And by the
end credits, you'll remind yourself that geeks -- even
if they don't look like Jake -- need love too. -- Anderson
Jones
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