Saw (2004, James Wan)

So apparently, there are two kinds of bad horror movies -- or more precisely, I have two distinct reactions to bad horror movies. On one side are the ones that have promise, whether it be a good idea or a decent actor or an intriguing trailer, but bungle the follow-through so bad that I sit there literally seething, wanting to reach through the screen and strangle everyone in front and behind the camera. (Think: May, Cabin Fever, and all-time winner The House of the Dead.) Then there are the ones that are so inept, so lacking in any sort of clue, that they achieve a kind of accidental brilliance, usually (but not always) by biting off more than they can possibly think to chew. The only appropriate response is laughter, but (for me at any rate), there's a grudging respect behind the laughter, marveling at the chutzpah behind each terrible decision. (Think: 1979's The Amityville Horror, Larry Buchanan's "It's Alive!", and all-time winner Dreamcatcher.)

Saw, for the first eighty-five minutes or so, falls squarely into Type One. It begins with an interesting premise, but soon wastes it with nonsensical character actions, unnecessary subplots, poorly-conceived flashback sequences, and awful, awful dialogue. (Amusingly, co-screenwriter Leigh Whannell plays one of the main roles, and not only is he a terrible actor, but he gives himself the worst lines.) Most annoying, however, is the amount of style (or better put, "style") that director Wan ladles over this thing: dropped frames, jump-cuts, second-hand Se7en chic, culminating in a ridiculous 360 degree shot that circles around a bound-and-gagged potential victim. Any built-up horror is extinguished by Wan figuratively sticking his thumb on the camera lens.

So, yeah, I was about to give up on Saw, ready to give it a single digit rating, chalking its $55 million box office take to collective insanity. (Well, that last one still applies.) But then, miraculously, in the last fifteen minutes, it turns into a Type Two. I'm not sure where exactly it happened, but the climax of its brilliant absurdity (if not the movie) is a ten-second car chase (or better put, car "chase"), so cheap-looking and ludicrous, clearly so embarrassing for the actors involved, that it would put an admiring tear in the eyes of schlock filmmakers everywhere. But there's more than that. There's Cary Elwes' shocking transformation from bland hero to over-emoting monstrosity, which some have compared to that of Vincent Price and silent-era actors, but I think is more comparable to when Calculon grieved over the body of his beloved Coilette. (Watch the moment when he learns he's talking to his wife, not the killer, on the cell phone.) And finally, there's the final twist ending, which was much derided in the geek world, to which I must reply, "Didn't you watch the previous ninety-nine minutes?" Yes, it's illogical, unlikely, and possibly stupid, but those are the qualities that the film is based on. Yet, unlike the rest of the film, the ending was genuinely surprising and done well. Too bad that means Saw 2.