Prince of Darkness Ascends Its Throne

I often tell my friends that my opinion of a book, film or album should never be trusted until I’ve either read/seen/listened to it again or waited 48 hours. Entertainment is a largely emotional experience for me, and so I’m liable to have a high opinion of any work that gets my adrenaline pumping in spite of whatever flaws it might possess—at least until the rush wears off. I really, really liked Transformers when I first saw it and, Hell, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace was one of my favourite films for years. So when I say I enjoy something, feel free to treat me like a little kid who has just ingested a pound of sugar. The stomach ache will come, just you wait.

The same applies to the inverse. Some things will leave me feeling sour after I’ve first experienced them, but whether because of the mood I was in at the time or simply due to changing tastes I’m liable to come around to liking or even loving them some months or years in the future. I initially disliked Rebellion’s 2010 Aliens vs. Predator game and it took me three years to realize that my shitty living conditions in third year of university had actually contributed to my feelings of ill will rather than the game itself. It’s actually pretty rad.

John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness is another such case. Made for a fairly low budget of $3 million and released in 1987, Prince is the second entry of what Carpenter calls his “Apocalypse Trilogy,” preceded by The Thing (which I liveblogged while drunk on New Year’s) and followed by In the Mouth of Madness. It didn’t exactly thrill me on my first full viewing a couple years ago, but after watching again it during my most recent horror binge in October I’ve come around to it in a huge way. Not only is it Carpenter’s best film after The Thing, it really is a little gem that deserves critical re-evaluation.

Review - On Endings, Expectations, and Take Shelter

Take Shelter could have been the best movie of 2011.

By the time it arrived at Ottawa’s little Mayfair Theatre in late December I was actually anticipating it more than I had any other film that year, beating out The Muppets and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. As cliché as it sounds, writer/director Jeff Nichols’ understated little thriller had everything: nuanced performances, pitch perfect cinematography, a minimalist but undeniably effective score and a constant atmosphere of dread. But while Nichols’ sophomore feature is 99 per cent of a fantastic movie, the remaining one percent is in danger of dragging the whole cinematic boat beneath the waves (note: none of my friends have approved this analogy). To say I’m disappointed is an understatement.

Review - Esquire of Darkness

I watched John Carpenter’s 1987 film Prince of Darkness this weekend. I’d caught the final third or so of the movie on AMC back in my first year of university, and while I remembered it being low-budget and kind of inexplicable it nevertheless intrigued me enough that I was more than happy to watch it in full when I stumbled across it on Netflix Saturday afternoon. With the day off from work and no obligations to speak of, I plopped down on the couch, put my feet up on the coffee table and hit play.

Roughly an hour and a half later, the credits were rolling and I was rubbing my chin, processing what I’d just seen. It wasn’t a mindbender by any means but neither was it trash. It’s actually a fairly solid film from start to finish, occasionally clumsy acting and dodgy pacing balanced out by Carpenter’s cinematography and pulsing synth score, and while it wasn’t nearly as good as The Thing, I could easily see how its cult status has endured over the last quarter of a century.

But later on that day, strolling through the Glebe with a drink in my hand and the thawing ice crunching beneath my feet, I slowly realized that buried within this admittedly unsettling doomsday flick was the potential for what could have been one of the greatest horror films ever made.