The Prowler

Something this movie taught me #1: Kids in the 1940's are just as blinded by lust and thick-headed as their modern day counterparts.

I can hardly imagine the horrors that one would have encountered in the Second World War. The constant feeling that each day may just be your last. Becoming emotionally attached, meeting new friends, only to see them violently torn away. Having to face down and combat human evil in its purest form. Then, a miracle happens: the fighting has stopped, and you're still alive. Home, where the people you hold dear are waiting for you. Then...it's all torn apart by something as simple as a letter. A letter written by a fickle heart, one that takes away everything you had been fighting for. Its enough to drive anyone mad...

Such is the situation facing a recently returned soldier in the small town of Avalon Bay. Come the High School Graduation Ball, the writer of said letter, Francis Rosemary Chatham and her lover decide to ditch the crowd and head somewhere a little more...private. Just as things are getting heated up, the lovers are savagely murdered by an unseen killer, who slips away into the night. Y'see, this is what happens when you tell someone that "you just want to be friends".

35 years later, and the town is struggling to escape from under the shadow caused by the murder. Pam MacDonald (Vicky Dawson) is seeking to revive the dance after a ban imposed by Rosemary's father ever since the killings. Her deputy boyfriend, Mark London (Christopher Goutman), is all for it. Just an aside: this guy, he is absolutely, positively one of the all time most useless protagonists ever to be seen in a horror movie. More on this later. Sheriff George Fraser (Farley Granger) is heading out of town for a fishing trip just as news comes in that a violent car-jacker might be headed towards the town. Deputy How-am-I-eats-food? is nervous, and Fraser doesn't really care. Nothing's going to ruin this vacation, dag nubbit! However, there is someone who doesn't want the dance to be held. See, Rosemary's killer was never found, and he's still living in the town. As the students (i,e. people who don't even know they're dead yet) prepare for the prom, the killer hauls out the ol' combat fatigues and assorted nasty weapons. Everybody's getting ready for the prom!

One of the better examples of the slasher sub-genre, Prowler stands above the crowd by fully knowing where its priorities lay: characters you'll hardly end up giving a damn about, and truly, and I mean truly exceptional set-pieces. For the most part, the characters are never able to escape beyond the first dimensional in terms of development. Not to say the acting is bad are bad, as the actors give mostly serviceable performances, especially considering what they're given, its just that nobody is particularly memorable. Dawson is easily one of the blandest "Final Girl"'s to come down the pike in a long time. It's hard to really feel emotionally invested in what she does, and when she's eventually stalked and threatened by the Prowler, chances are you won't be on the edge of your seat, wondering if she's going to survive while biting your nail down to the quick. That being said, her eventual coup-de-grace of the killer is supremely satisfying.

Now, something really has to be said about Deputy London. Look up either "inept" or "dumbass" in the dictionary, you'll likely find his picture. Here's an example: suppose you're the only law-enforcement in town, and you hear that there's a psychotic person(s) in the area. Do you

a) Make sure your girlfriend is with a group of others, and thus out of harm's way
b) Leave her alone if you must, but make sure she has some way of defending herself if necessary
c) Leave her alone, in the dark, while you stumble about, doing who knows what, while trying not to swallow your own tongue

If you answered "c", well, congratulations. You're going to get to play London in the all-too inevitable remake (who knows, it could happen). The other characters are similarly disposable fodder, save for one guy, who goes from being an extremely minor to suddenly inheriting the role of possible savior come the film's climax.

Something this movie taught me #2: Heads are squishy

The film's largest weakness is the occasional faltering pace. The body-count isn't terribly high, and the murders tend to be grouped together instead of more evenly paced out, which leads to long stretches where we ain't getting any of the red stuff. The stalking moments that don't have bloodshed are adequately suspenseful, and the movie isn't hurt too badly in the long run. But, on to the main event: the gore.

Whenever you see Tom Savini's name in the credits, you know you're in for a real treat. The man comes through and then some, and delivers some of my all time favorite effects from him. Bodies are impaled, stabbed, beaten, and even shot with ruthless abandon, and it is a true testament to Savini's skill that this movie still manages to be more visceral than many other, more modern genre fare. The kills gain brutality not via elaborately staged means, but rather in the way they're prolonged. No quick slash and then a cutaway. The victims choke and gasp their lasts breath, and the camera records it in unflinching detail. A throat is slashed, then deliberately sawed open by the killer. A skull is vertically impaled with a combat knife, to absolutely jaw-dropping effect. Basically, if you thought the Friday the 13th movies are too skimpy with the gore, this is the movie for you.

The Prowler himself is a nifty looking killer. The combat fatigues is definitely an interesting design, but the murderer is more memorable not for his physical appearance, but the utmost savagery with which he dispatches his victims. There is a level of sadism and cruelty here that hasn't been seen (to my knowledge, anyways) in most of its contemporaries. However, one gets the impression that the screenwriter had a chance to create a truly compelling and memorable villain: to get into the mind of a man, already mentally unbalanced, only to go into a full psychotic break following the Second World War, and to later continue fighting the war at home in the form of a full-on killing spree, is, for me at least, a truly tantalizing concept.

Sadly, the screenwriter neglects such psychological insight, and the fatigues just becomes another cool costume. But maybe I'm expecting too much: slasher films are hardly known for their intelligent storylines (for exceptions, see My Bloody Valentine 1981, Hills Run Red, StageFright, Cold Prey). In terms of the script; aside from the underdeveloped slasher fodder, the whodunnit aspect as dumb as a sack of hammers, and if you aren't able to guess the killer withing moments of seeing them, than shame on you.

Well, what can I say? If you don't like hack-and-slash films, there's really nothing I can do to convince you to watch this. If you do like them, well, kick up your feet, pop some corn, and enjoy the ride. And remember: heads are squishy.