THE CABIN IN THE WOODS (2012)

Dir. Drew Goddard / 95 minutes / Cert 15

If you go down to the woods today, you’ll be sure of a big surprise… no, really, you will, because this clever little film isn’t quite your usual horror fodder.

Okay, I’ll hold my hands up and confess that I’m not really your typical consumer of scary movies. I’m ashamed to say that I’m a big blubbery wuss at heart and absolutely require all the lights to be on and generally need somebody to grip my hand tight, tell me when it’s safe to open my eyes again and politely point out that I should probably consider changing my pants. But I wanted to see The Cabin in the Woods solely based on the pedigree of Joss Whedon (who, as we all know, created Buffy and Firefly) and who co-wrote the script along with writer/director Drew Goddard.

The premise of the film is almost painfully familiar – a bunch of bland, one-dimensional impossibly good-looking, impossibly articulate, impossibly witty teenage students (in this case, “the whore”, “the athlete”, “the scholar”, “the fool” and that old horror chestnut “the virgin”) plunge gorgeously into the depths of a deep, dark wood, hoping for a wild weekend of indulgence, but end up stalked, hunted and really not having all that much of a good time at all. But, due to their being so impossibly good-looking, articulate and witty, that’s just swell and we can’t wait to see their heads start rolling and the smug smiles wiped off their beautiful young faces.

As it turns out, we’re not the only ones that feel this way, which is where the film shatters its generic conventions and serves up something a little different – which yields mixed results. It is revealed early on that others also get a kick out of seeing sexy youngsters getting ripped to shreds; in this case The West Wing’s Bradley Whitford and Six Feet Under’s Richard Jenkins (both wonderful but arguably miscast here) who play two embittered ageing technicians who initially provide much comedy (though I do wonder in hindsight if the comedy slightly undercut the scares slightly). I don’t think it would be giving too much away to say that these technicians are involved in the gruesome ordeal that befalls our stunning kids, which proves to be a clever, effective well-executed idea, but sadly comes at the expense of much of the tension. The ‘fear of the unknown’ is partially dismantled and for the first half an hour or so, I was unable to view the perils seriously; imagining that the film was building up to a cheesy reveal where all the characters had been set-up and ended up alive and well. I was half right, but I should have had more faith in Whedon, because it dawned on me eventually that, you know what, this is actually rather sick and unpleasant.

Therefore, there is a good deal to enjoy here. Fran Kranz (who played loveable geek Topher in Joss Whedon’s short-lived and much missed Dollhouse) was standout as a wise-cracking pothead. The comedy is funny, the satire is thought-provokingly disturbing and the horror at times can produce a few shivers (it also features lots of obligatory ‘jumpy moments). I’m just not sure, even with its twists and turns, the genre combination was completely successful. At times, it felt jarring. That said, it rips up the rulebook, which I’m all in favour of, and anybody expecting a formulaic narratively conventional film may end up disappointed. Ultimately, I’m afraid I did, but for completely different reasons. The ending is a real disappointment. The film loses it way around about what I shall cryptically refer to as ‘the elevator scene’ and the final act descends into some kind of fantastical farce; we’re talking prophecies, rituals and destruction on a global scale that feel desperate, ridiculous and like they belong in an entirely different film.

If it weren’t for the conclusion, I would recommend this film. As it is, despite having its frightening moments (watching one of the girl’s ‘make out’ with a stuffed wolf is pretty terrifying), I’m afraid this film is more of a thumbs-down than a thumbs-up from me.

Five kernels of popcorn out of ten.