John
Carpenter: The Prince of Darkness
I should
qualify this review with a quick admonition: I'm a unabashed
fan of John Carpenter. I don't just like Halloween.
I have a deep and abiding love for many of his films. I fondly
remember John Houseman scaring the living shit out of me as
a child while I watched The Fog on ABC. I recall my
mind being blown by the amazing effects in The Thing.
And I strenuously defend Prince of Darkness to people
who have never seen it but slag it based on the opinions of
people who didn't understand it. So obviously, when I saw
that a book that is essentially an interview with the man
on his work was coming, I was thrilled. And I wasn't disappointed.
Write
Gilles Boulenger, a French author who has penned books on
Apocalypse Now and published the cult movie mag Le
Cinephage, has a clear understanding of why Carpenter's
films work and asks intelligent questions that demonstrate
respect for the artist and his work. He includes chapters
on Carpenter's methods and formative years. As an added treat,
we also get a foreward from Carpenter's friend/peer/sometime
collaborator Tommy Lee Wallace.
But honestly,
the center of the book is the man himself. Carpenter speaks
fondly of his films. Here is a man who has made some great
movies that are simply often misunderstood by critics and
audiences. A great case in point is Big Trouble in Little
China. Though it survives in cult status today, no one
is bending over backwards to give Carpenter credit for anticipating
the avalanche of Hong Kong influenced films by several years.
His overall body of work contains some apocalyptic cyncism,
yet the heart of old-school Westerns beats strongly in several
of the same pieces. Carpenter is not afraid to allow his affinities
for and love of genre to show in his films, and I think that
some people aren't equipped to grasp that.
Take the
titular film, Prince of Darkness. If you enter viewing
with an open mind and a willingness to think about the implications,
it's quite staggering. Similarly, examine In the Mouth
of Madness, which takes jabs at the movie-going public's
occaisonal lack of literacy (I wish I had a nickel for every
person that told me it was about Stephen King when the whole
enterprise should have a big I LOVE LOVECRAFT stamp on it.)
Another
point worthy of note is that despite his body of work in horror
and dark SF, Carpenter has also turned out several films of
drastically varying styles. Aside from Elvis: The Movie,
we're talking Starman, a heartfelt alien film that
acts as a counterbalance to the earlier The Thing.
The director seems willing to go back to the same larger themes,
even if they aren't always financially rewarding or publically
praised.
In a way,
I see Carpenter's place as one that's very similar to his
friend Stephen King's place in literature. Both have received
critical shellacking for going into particular territories.
Certainly, Carpenter's reputation is as a genre filmmaker,
but an open examination of his work will reveal him as an
extraordinarly talented genre filmmaker. He may bring gore
and shocks, but they are never mindless. Beyond the impalings
and the mutating dogs, there is a subtle field of meaning.
You just have to look for it.
John
Carpenter: The Prince of Darkness may
not answer all of your questions. But mine were answered in
the Wallace foreward. Therein, he says that Carpenter grew
up a somewhat rural area playing music, drawing comics, reading
horror, making small films, and writing. I understood instantly
that that's why I always look forward to Carpenter's movies;
we come from the same metphorical place. As a writer/director/composer/editor/producer/actor,
Carpenter still cuts a unique figure in the world of film.
And if he's not always understood by the world at large, that
seems to be fine with him. And that's fine with me. I get
it, and I get the feeling that if he knows a few people get
it, then he's okay with that too.
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