Chris Beaumont

beaumont@ifa.hawaii.edu
2680 Woodlawn Drive
Honolulu, HI 96822

30 Days of Night Review

Horror movies have always rested uneasily between the realm of commercial, exploitative entertainment and “legitimate” cinema. One the one hand, their aggressively dark subject matter can explore a unique realm of the human condition -- be it the desire to survive, to rationalize impossible situations, to protect loved ones, whatever. On the other hand, horror movies can be inexpensive to make and, because their visceral appeal, tend to draw in tremendous profits. This commercial/artistic tension provides an obstacle for any filmgoer seeking something meaningful in the cinema.

David Slade’s previous film Hard Candy was about a growingly suspicious relationship between a 32 year old male photographer and a 14 year old girl. It was also a fine example of how a disturbing film can function as art. Hard Candy devotes the majority of its runtime to uncovering the identities of each of these characters. By the end, we see that they are both deeply human and deeply flawed characters capable of committing acts of evil. It was also a visual treat, contrasting its high contrast, handheld camera shots with its sparse set design (virtually the entire movie takes place in one room).

Unfortunately, the substance Slade brought to Hard Candy has not translated to his new vampire film, 30 Days of Night. There are hints of his direction; Night features the same hyper-kinetic camera work, for example. However, the pathos and character development are gone, replaced by an interesting premise diluted by appallingly gratuitous violence and a lack of thematic substance.

The film revolves around the town of Barrow, Alaska which, due to its high latitude, is in perpetual darkness for a month out of the year. That’s a clever twist on the vampire story, which usually relies on impending sunrise to provide a sense of hope. Josh Hartnett gives a good performance as a police chief named Eben committed to protecting his family and town throughout the winter.

From film’s outset, things go poorly for Eben. Someone has burned all of the satellite phones and killed the sled dogs, and a mysterious stranger with gangly teeth keeps ranting about the apocalypse. Perhaps something bad is on Barrow’s horizon?

The rest of the movie proceeds more or less predictably. The vampires show up, cut the power, and start feasting on the town. The humans can’t leave because of the lack of sled dogs (oh man!), and they can’t call for help because of the phones (shock!). Eben gathers together the survivors and, together, they try to hide out until sunrise.

I’ll grant that this movie is scary. But it’s more of a “what’s-around-that-corner” fear that ends as soon as the scene does. Nothing in this film is lastingly scary or even memorable. In fact, a surprising number of dramatic situations have close parallels in previous, much better horror movies. I found scenes lifted from 28 days later and its sequel, as well as Night of the Living Dead. There is even one strangely reminiscent of the last scene in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when Shredder falls into that garbage compactor.

It doesn’t help that the vampires, with their open mouth stares and nonsensically philosophical monologues, are profoundly uninteresting. They also jump a lot, raising suspicions about the creative role of Sam Raimi, the movie’s producer and director of Spider-Man. I guess it’s not plagiarism if you steal from yourself.

As mega-violent concept movies like Saw or Hostel often do, 30 Days of Night is performing well at the box office. I’m sure many more people will see it and enjoy it for its violence and scariness. Ultimately, however, Night is a hollow film, exploiting the power of the horror film for commercial success while neglecting horror’s potential to craft a good story.