Southern Gothic, a most deliciously specific sub genre, has hardly been explored in the American cinema, and one may not approach 'Pumpkinhead' with any expectation of artistry, but the movie surprises. It surprises as an accomplished and authentic-feeling example of Southern Gothic, better than 'Deliverance,' but nowhere near as good as 'Night of the Hunter,' and also as a morality play with a streak of dark irony.
Lean at 86 minutes, the film's build-up is exquisite. Lance Henriksen, excellent here as a highly physical, laconic grocery store owner in rural Rural, U.S.A, lives alone with his son, who is his sole companion after the death of his wife. The movie carefully and quite skillfully establishes the importance of this boy to his father, and this gives almost unbearable gravity to the boy's accidental death at the hands of six urban motorcycling youths. The movie's handling of this situation is brilliant and completely devoid of cheapness or exploitativeness, and the underrated Henriksen reveals himself as an actor of depth and significance.
There is moral and material conflict among the youths, who retreat to their cabin. One of them, a violent and dominating thug, is on probation for DUI, and taking responsibility for the boy's death would likely yield a prison sentence. Meanwhile, Henriksen consults an old witch to unleash the titular demon, one who's only been rumored about in campfire tales and bedtime stories, to avenge his child's death, and subsequently undergoes moral turnaround himself.
The last third of the film lacks weight or interest, as the demon dispatches each youth against the sudden protests of Henriksen. It's almost as though the director, Stan Winston, wanted to avoid hunt-and-slay elements altogether, and went through the motions as quickly as possible. While this is admirable, this portion of the film almost completely lacks flair.
It's forgivable, though. Not many horror films are as good as this, which is concise, atmospheric, and manages to provoke both thought and genuine emotion, with wonderful supporting players like Joseph Piro and Buck Flower that augment the film's rural ambiance with an enchanting authenticity.
Lean at 86 minutes, the film's build-up is exquisite. Lance Henriksen, excellent here as a highly physical, laconic grocery store owner in rural Rural, U.S.A, lives alone with his son, who is his sole companion after the death of his wife. The movie carefully and quite skillfully establishes the importance of this boy to his father, and this gives almost unbearable gravity to the boy's accidental death at the hands of six urban motorcycling youths. The movie's handling of this situation is brilliant and completely devoid of cheapness or exploitativeness, and the underrated Henriksen reveals himself as an actor of depth and significance.
There is moral and material conflict among the youths, who retreat to their cabin. One of them, a violent and dominating thug, is on probation for DUI, and taking responsibility for the boy's death would likely yield a prison sentence. Meanwhile, Henriksen consults an old witch to unleash the titular demon, one who's only been rumored about in campfire tales and bedtime stories, to avenge his child's death, and subsequently undergoes moral turnaround himself.
The last third of the film lacks weight or interest, as the demon dispatches each youth against the sudden protests of Henriksen. It's almost as though the director, Stan Winston, wanted to avoid hunt-and-slay elements altogether, and went through the motions as quickly as possible. While this is admirable, this portion of the film almost completely lacks flair.
It's forgivable, though. Not many horror films are as good as this, which is concise, atmospheric, and manages to provoke both thought and genuine emotion, with wonderful supporting players like Joseph Piro and Buck Flower that augment the film's rural ambiance with an enchanting authenticity.