Because you were home

The Strangers (2008)

Directed by Bryan Bertino

So, I managed to "convince" a friend to see this with me at our local cinema. I was pretty psyched -- the trailers successfully created a thick, stomach-churning air of tension . . . and okay, the masks looked pretty freaky. Man, I was even drawn towards the posters -- the one with 'Dollface' and an overly large knife was reminiscent of an 80s slasher. For some reason, the line "Because you were home." struck out to me -- the motivation of the killers or more precisely, lack of, is terrifying (it reminds me of Halloween in relation to the Bogeyman without a motivation -- okay, so the sequels quickly diminished that idea, but that's another story for another time). However, in terms of narrative, it is also The Strangers downfall.

The film revolves around Kirsten and James, who are spending the night at an isolated Summer home. The evening is tense -- flashbacks reveal that Kirsten turned down James' marriage proposal earlier on. But their night gets worse with the appearance of The Strangers, a trio of masked psychos out to kill them. It's a game of cat and mouse, as Kirsten and James fight for survival. Do they survive, and more importantly are you going to give a damn?

The cinema, much to my utter disgust, was filled with loud, excitable teenyboppers. You know, the kind that chat/giggle constantly, and cannot go a mere moment without their mobile phones in their sweaty little palms. Now, I don't mind teenyboppers, it's just the kind that are like; "OMG, we're in the dark! Nobody can see us! Let's act like Jackasses and make various animal noises!", that just severely piss me off, and ruin everyone's movie-going experience. And we all want to have a good movie-going experience, right? Yes, we do. Anyway, I was actually wrong this time round; the audience were great, (save a small group of knob-heads who resided like scum, clinging to the sides of the cinema) they jumped at the right bits, screamed and then laughed afterwards. I love it when a film gets a reaction from an audience. It makes the film all the more enjoyable, don't you think? And The Strangers does aim to supply those jumpy moments!

On account of this, The Strangers is a very visual film, and I mean this specifically in terms of beginning, middle and end -- there's little dialogue and a hell of a lot of screaming/crying/atmospheric noise, particularly and annoyingly from Tyler's character. I mean, if I had my ears stuffed with Cotton wool and folded closed with the use of a clothes peg (I know, why the fuck would I do that?! Still, bare with me; I'm trying to make a point somewhere) I'd still be able to understand what was happening, and in great intricate detail. The story is basically furthered by action and very little else. It could've been a fuckin' silent movie, and folk with Charlie Chaplin masks could've been the killers, and we'd still know what was going on . . . hmm, an idea there?

I like dialogue. I like learning about characters, their personalities and how they interact within the narrative. I like characters which evolve. We don't get that here. The ideas presented in the beginning of the film are quickly dispatched, making way for the home invasion. What we DO get is a handful of scares laced together with eerie music, serving to build up dramatic tension. All in all, it makes for a pretty standard horror flick. The Strangers doesn't try to be anything more, and it succeeds.

Liv Tyler's character was an insult. But, I guess where there's a Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson or Sidney Prescott, there's always going to be a Kirsten McKay. That's the slang from now on, strictly between you and me. If someones a whiny crybaby, who can't look after themselves, they're a Kirsten. If they think it's cool for the guy-with-the-shotgun to leave them. In the house. Alone with at least 3 fuckin' psychos, whose motivation doesn't exist beyond; "Ah, well, you just happened to be on the scene . . . we were kinda bored. It is a Saturday night". Then they're a Kirsten. Her husband gets an injury from trying to protect himself and her. Kirsten twists her bloody ankle trying to run away. But who's worse? There's also the useless husband with a shotgun and an endless supply of ammo -- well, not endless, but enough to do the job, man. The end result is that we don't really care for the characters, rending the film flat, aiming only to supply the scares.