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7
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10
= Highest Rating |
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Guest
Review by William
P. Simmons |
Shadows
of dread and desire since time immemorial, the
animals that stalk wood and forest, lake and glen
have fascinated and frightened us in equal measure
since we first noted the differences (and intimately
disturbing similarities) between denizens of the
deep and our inhumane-human condition. Nature,
the cauldron of life from which we are born (and
into which we return), is instinct personified.
While less important to us in our self-deceiving
urban superiority than it was to our ancestors
(hunter-gatherers/farmers whose very lives depended
on the fertility of the land and abundance of
tasty animal-life) Nature reminds us of our basic
ineffectual weakness. At its worst, Nature maims,
cripples, and kills. And despite our weapons and
philosophical rationales, it's hard to feel superior
against a pair of glistening teeth larger than
your forehead! Laws and citations are ineffective
against claws, and the modern mind that knows
this is little different than his club-wielding
ancestor.
From
ancient Shaman spinning dark miracles by starlight,
scaring the tribe with fearsome fables of gripping
claws, to modern filmmakers casting cinematic
nightmares in blood red celluloid, people whose
job it is to inspire fear have long turned to
Mother Nature's terrible offspring. A staple of
budget horror/exploitation, these subjects are
easily assessable stock figures that arouse instant
recognition and exploitative response. Cheap to
film, allowing action to take place primarily
in one setting whose versatility and terrain provides
numerous shooting abilities, nature nightmares
offer built-in scream factor —
their wildlife surroundings inspire suspense naturally,
without need for costly effects. Forests are the
world's oldest living ghost-houses, and perhaps
no one was as home there as William Girdler, a
poet of poverty productions that squeezed every
ounce of shock possible from the frightful frames
of his horrific exposes of titillation.
Girdler
infested his fevered fear-fests with scathing
condemnations of cultural greed and personal ignorance,
layering seductive subtext amidst the surface
joys of roughhousing violence and sheer escapist
palates. His carnal creativity is often as profound
in subtext (for those willing to look!) as his
surface images are invigorating. Whereas primal
man attempted to face and/or exorcise his fears
in the oral tradition of storytelling, we share
our culturally shared terrors through the vicarious
instrument of the silver screen. Such storytellers
as Girdler are naturals for evoking the anxiety
and terror of Nature, exploring its species as
literal monsters as well as symbols for inner
hungers, hatreds, and fears.
That's certainly the case in
his most accomplished film. A joyfully brazen
rip-off of storylines, characters, and conventions
from Jaws (as were
such films as Joe Dante's Piranha
and just about every other nature amuck flick
since!), Grizzly
isn't only a shark movie replacing dorsal fins
with bear paws; it's Night
of the Living Dead with bigger teeth. Instead
of a group of survivors trapped in a farmhouse
warding off the living dead, we see in Grizzly
believable characters in the more threatening
context of the forest, desperately matching wits
against an intelligent, hungry bear.
Girdler's ode to the friendship/survival
horrors of Jaws captures much of that film's tension
on less budget. Besides showing (once again) how
creativity, vision, and old fashioned stubbornness
is so much more important than effects or money,
Grizzly emphasizes
Girdler's instinctive ability to evoke suspense.
The quality of the film as both exploitative shocker
and as a story of meaningful human relationships
reveals a director as knowledgeable about the
nature of friendship and sacrifice as he is about
film.
A cyclone
of short-lived but highly effective showmanship,
Girdler accomplished a distinctive body of work
in eight years. Working frenziedly from 1971 to
his untimely death in 1978 (at age 30) when a
helicopter scouting locations for his next film
went down, Girdler directed about nine movies,
many of them starring professional veteran actors.
1976's Grizzly, an
economical success, also remains an artistic triumph,
albeit an uneven one. This lovingly restored 30th
Anniversary Special Edition is an impressive tribute
to Girdler's showmanship. Making something new
with genre staples, this visual vivisection drips
with blood and style, action and terror. Creating
a maximum of mayhem on a measly 4 week schedule,
Girdler wisely employs shots of a real (trained)
Grizzly bear with shots of a man in bear drab.
The most effective actor is the giant, wicked-looking
claw that slashes, gashes, and grabs unsuspecting
campers in the dead of night.
In a
simple, straightforward story, resourceful park
ranger Mike Kelly (Christopher George) matches
wits against an 18-foot, 2,000 pound Grizzly terrorizing
hikers and campers at a state park. Complicated
by the politically corrupt park supervisor (Joe
Dorsey) and droves of alcoholic hunters, Kelly's
intentions prove ineffectual. When the bear kills
again (campers, hunters, a little boy with his
mother), the ranger employs his naturalist friend
Scotty (Richard Jaeckel) to help him find it.
Of course the bear is stronger than either of
them expect, and a cycle of bloody mayhem ensues.
While
nothing new in terms of structure or theme, Grizzly's
horror movie conventions are reinvented by Girdler's
individualistic vision, assured directorial style,
and ability to tease believable reactions form
an experienced cast. Emotional moments of friendship
and loss add complexity to the narrative and further
emotional involvement to the jarring violence.
Girdler exposes a surprising amount of brutality,
mirroring the naturalist sentiments of the picture.
The violence is savage, bloody, and hurts on a
deeper level than most exploitation films care
to show. Because the script breaths life into
the cast, we feel we really know these people,
and when their lives are in harm's way, we struggle
with them.
William
Girdler loved the exploitation field; he was in
the business to make movies that entertained,
films with suspense, awe, and laughter —
not subtle documents of characterization. Yet
his action riddled, hair-raising spectacles often
include reflection amidst mayhem, poignant philosophy
alongside maniacal manglings. Anyone in doubt
of this need look no further than Grizzly.
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Presented in 2.35:1 anamorphic
widescreen, Shriek Show's presentation of Grizzly
captures the lush nature photography, shaming
past VHS and cheaply made DVD editions. While
some grain is present, it in no serious manner
hampers the enjoyment of the framing or composition
of shots. Mono audio (with optional Spanish language)
is clear and crisp.
Extras
are spread across two discs, including an insightful
commentary between producer/co-screenwriter David
Sheldon and actress Joan McCall ("Allison").
Moderated by Walt Olsen, this track is a treasure
of trivia, rumor, and fact. Discussing actress
Vicki
Johnson's cut nude
scene, McCall's love scene with Christopher George,
and some of the excitement which drove the production,
the discussion pulls you in. A trailer rounds
out Disc 1. The second disc presents us with a
dated yet thoughtful documentary obviously made
for promotional purposes, which is rather haunting
with its footage of the late Girdler. Jaws
With Claws, an exclusive feature, interviews
Sheldon, McCall, writer Harvey Flaxman, and actor
Andrew Prine ("Don") discussing the
preparation, shooting, and reaction of the movie,
going on to cover more personal tidbits. The dependable
Media Blasters trailers, a photo gallery, and
radio spots complete this fitting tribute to an
exploitation pioneer.
5/13/06
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