The Lords of Salem

Directed by Rob Zombie.

2013. Rated R, 101 minutes.

Cast:

Sheri Moon Zombie

Bruce Davison

Jeff Daniel Phillips

Ken Foree

Patricia Quinn

Dee Wallace

Maria Conchita Alonso

Judy Geeson

Meg Foster

Heidi (Sheri Moon Zombie) is the co-host of a late night radio show in Salem, Mass. Not surprisingly, they are currently discussing the legendary Salem Witch Trials. Of course, she will soon encounter some practitioners of the black arts. While leaving work, she is given a record, yes a record, that has mysteriously appeared at the front desk with her name on it. Listening to it makes her feel like crap and induces some disturbing visions. There is also the strange new neighbor who isn't supposed to be there. Watching Heidi freak out ensues.

The Lords of Salem is one of those movies that plays on a loop. Generally, Heidi wakes up and stumbles around her apartment with her dog nearby. Something weird happens then she's off to work. We then see a little of the radio show after which she goes home and gets drunk with someone. Somewhere in here the music plays and something else weird happens. Rinse. Repeat. Throughout this cycle her mental health seems to be deteriorating. Unfortunately, after the first time or two through the cycle it feels repetitive.

Things aren't helped much by some predictable characters showing up. Within seconds of meeting certain people we have a fairly accurate idea of who/what they really are. They all just look and act too shady to be anything else. The mystery is sapped out of the film rather early because of this. The only real intrigue left is the visuals presented whenever our heroine starts seeing things.

There are some strong resemblances between The Lords of Salem and 2012's Lovely Molly. In both, the protagonist is a woman who is a recovering drug addict and begins seeing things she can't explain. The difference is in that movie, Molly's addiction is taken seriously by the film itself. Here, Heidi's is treated somewhat cavalierly. Much of LM is built around other characters believing her to be slipping back into her old ways as we watch her fight not to during an extremely stressful time in her life. We sympathize with her and wonder if it's all in her head. In The Lords of Salem Heidi's history with drugs is also a known factor by her friends. Their concern appears token, at best. By that I mean, they regularly start up her all-night drinking sessions. It's as if no one, including the writer/director/star's husband Rob Zombie included, has the slightest clue that there is any problem whatsoever with a drug addict binge drinking. It subtracts from the idea that anyone gives a crap about her. If the movie itself doesn't, why should we? This is a crucial question that is never answered. As a result, we have nothing to grasp except a few disturbing pictures.

Disturbing. That's the key word. Rob Zombie strives to make all of his movies match that description. Sometimes he succeeds, sometimes not. This is one of the nots. He tries to do it by attempting to make us recoil from what we see rather than reaching into and shaking our core. Sure, there are some ugly images here that may make some of us cringe. But once that fleeting moment passes there is nothing to truly heighten our sense of dread. The ending is his last ditch effort at freaking us out. Truthfully, it's a great singular shot that does appeal to our soul more than our eyes. Had the movie leading up to it been better, it would be a downright brilliant finale. As it stands, it's the best part of a bad movie.

Cujo

Directed by Lewis Teague.
1983. Rated R, 93 minutes.
Cast:
Dee Wallace
Daniel Hugh Kelly
Danny Pintauro
Christopher Stone
Ed Lauter
Kaiulani Lee
Billy Jayne

A rabid St. Bernard terrorizes a woman (Wallace) and her son (Pintauro).

What?

That’s all I’ve got.

Oh alright, there is a little more to it than that. Namely, the woman is an adulterer who finds herself alone with the boy on the property where the crazed dog runs things because her hubby has just a little pimp in his blood. He drives a shiny new Jag while she putts around in a beatup Pinto that’s badly in need of repair. By the way, is there any other kind of Pinto? Anyhoo, after finding out about his wife’s indiscretions, hubby takes off in the Jag on a business trip and pretty much tells her to suck an egg when she asks about getting the Pinto fixed…ahem…worked on. I don’t think it’s actually possible to fix one. Though he doesn’t use the term “suck an egg”, he makes it clear she needs to cross her fingers and pray she makes it all the way to Joe Camber’s (Lauter) place for him to fix…er…work on it. Joe’s not only the local repairman, he’s also Cujo’s owner. Early on, we see that Cujo’s caught rabies. Unfortunately, Joe is neither terribly bright nor perceptive so the dog is far too gone by the time Joe picks up on it. Poor Joe.

This whole setup takes up half the movie. Basically, that means we watch a not-so-thrilling soap opera play out before the dog starts killing people. By that time, we’re kind of rooting for the dog because we don’t like the people. In particular, we don’t like the wife. That’s a bit of a problem when Cujo has her and the boy trapped in the rust-bucket. Do we really want her to live? I guess so, for the kid’s sake. Like most dads, self included, you just never really know if he can actually raise a child by himself. I mean, what the hell do you do after playing catch and going for ice cream?

The latter half is mostly Cujo slobbering, barking and doing further damage to the Pinto in an effort to make a Scooby-Snack out of mom and son. To give us breaks in the action, hubby gets all pissed because she’s not answering the phone and has to come all the way home to check up on her. That’s the house phone she’s not answering, for you young’uns. Before every teenager had a cell phone in their pocket, or purse, that’s used for everything up to and maybe including brushing your teeth (isn’t there an app for that?), the only phones 99.9% of the population had was this giant block of plastic either on an end table or screwed to the wall in their house. No silly, you couldn’t watch Cujo on it. It only made and received calls. You know what else? If you left home, no one could reach until you reached some other place that had a phone. Honestly though, a cell phone would’ve solved a lot of problems, here.

Alas, this is 1983 and there are no cell phones. This means we’re stuck with watching mom play hide and seek with this behemoth of a dog who’s coat grows more matted by the second. If you held a gun to my head and asked me which one were smarter I’d have to say the dog. He’s so smart, he doesn’t even ram the back of the Pinto. That would’ve blown up the car and him along with it. I swear. Google “exploding Ford Pinto”. Anyhoo, he seems to be a step or two ahead of her the whole time. He’s like Alonzo in Training Day. He’s playing chess while she’s struggling with checkers. Are we still sure we want her to live? I guess so. Again, for the kid’s sake. If Cujo manages to take her out, this little whiny brat ain’t gonna be much problem.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, the movie isn’t that great. The first part makes us dislike everyone except the dad, who isn’t in any danger. The second half provides the occasional thrill but mostly drones on and on and on. Woof woof woof drool drool growl growl woof woof. Of course, being based on a Stephen King novel has made this an overrated movie. Some see it as a classic of the genre. It’s okay. I suppose it’s the best picture ever made about a killer dog, but that’s not really saying much.