As a species, we odd beings known as humans mark the passage of time in a variety of odd ways. Some keep pictures, whereas others may travel to specific locations on an anniversary. Me? I watch certain films each year at particular times, for they either remind me of that time of year, were released at that time originally, or give me a general 'feeling' that can only come from being wrapped up in them. The original Poltergeist belongs in that category. It puts me in the mindset of a fall evening, when the howling, cool wind carries a bite that only a thin-skinned child can feel. It also calls back to a time when the nuances of a house frightened me, when I assumed that things going bump in the night were after me, and when the fear of being lost was tantamount to death itself. Directed by The Texas Chainsaw Massacre veteran Tobe Hooper, but crafted by Steven Spielberg (we can argue about that later), Poltergeist is a film that has affected me deeply in different ways at different points in my life. It remains one of the best films of the genre, darned near a masterpiece of spiritual and familial terror.
I was near the tender age of 5 when I first saw the film, as it aired on broadcast TV for the first time. For some unknown reason, my parents felt I was up for the experience. After all, it was rated PG; a rating that was clearly inaccurate for the terrors and occasional gore on-screen. However, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and the furor surrounding its' gore was still two years away, and thus the MPAA had yet to develop the PG-13 rating. I remember feigning my bravest face after it was over, wanting my parents to continue bestowing those special privileges upon me. Inside, my stomach churned. Like any child that dealt with a menacing-looking tree, static on an analog television, or a creepy stuffed animal their family thrust upon them, it was clear that Poltergeist spoke directly to me.
As I learned later in life, that may have been close to Spielberg's intention. Like E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, released a week later in 1982, he framed this story through the lens of a child's experience. Children can be easily frightened by stuffed animals, or thunderstorms, dark closets, or even a misshapen tree. Parents generally try to assuage them, and over time they overcome those irrational fears. Poltergeist is intimately aware of those fears, and they're all systematically brought to life in the film. The scary tree will eat you, clowns are evil, and the closet literally will come after you. In this film, the cozy comforts of a friendly neighborhood and a cookie-cutter home cannot save you. From a parent's perspective, all the safeguards we build up around our children, all the rules about talking to strangers, the fears we allay in our kids- this film boots them to the side, praying on our "parent" brain as well. The film begins with that innocent, sweet tone, slowly lurking in the shadows to take everything precious and stomp on it.
Spielberg and crew made a smart, timely film that tore into the very fabric of baby boomers' suburban dreams. Representing the now aging demographic is Steven Freeling (Nelson). He's the consummate post- hippie salesman father, passively parenting his children, selling carbon copy real estate like an old pro, escaping in aggressive Sunday football parties and beers with the exuberance of a frat boy. His wife Diane (Williams), still riding that wave of hippie bliss, has yet to encounter her primal, maternal self at the beginning of the film. Perhaps it's the pot residue, but the most trying thing she seems to encounter are misplaced clothes and the death of the family bird. They're living the dream, or at least the Reaganomics version of the dream. Even their kids are cute and relatively well- behaved, if not also blissfully unaware. The dynamic can be summed up in a scene where Carol Anne (O'Rourke) is gently chided for staring at static on the screen for it will "hurt her eyes"; Diane changes the channel, apparently fine with the war film now on the tube instead. Oh, the irony!
Then it starts to happen. Carol Anne is caught talking to the 'TV people' in the dead of the night, the house appears to quake, and household objects move themselves. At first, Steven and Diane think it neat, like a trippy magic trick; then comes the menace of the trippy magic trick, the snatching of the 'WASP' dream. Carol Anne is taken somewhere, Robbie (Robins) is nearly devoured, and Dana (Dunne) is hysterical. Steven, against his beliefs, consults a parapsychology team at the local college. This motley crew, led by Dr. Lesh (Straight) and the odd, diminutive Tangina (Rubenstein), quickly learn that the Freeling's predicament far exceeds the excitement of a time-lapse video. In the span of fifteen minutes in the film, we go from seeing this relatively normal family deal with a standard, nighttime thunderstorm to being completely strung out in immeasurable grief, pleading with pseudo-science for assistance. This paranormal spirit that envelops the Freeling house succeeds in luring the family into a false sense of security, then it viscerally "breaks on through to the other side". What follows is a series of unexpected, thrilling, deeply moving scenes that play with the notions of life, death, instinct, and fear.
Read the full review here: http://filmfanperspective.com/2015/05/20/classic-film-review- poltergeist-1982/
I was near the tender age of 5 when I first saw the film, as it aired on broadcast TV for the first time. For some unknown reason, my parents felt I was up for the experience. After all, it was rated PG; a rating that was clearly inaccurate for the terrors and occasional gore on-screen. However, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and the furor surrounding its' gore was still two years away, and thus the MPAA had yet to develop the PG-13 rating. I remember feigning my bravest face after it was over, wanting my parents to continue bestowing those special privileges upon me. Inside, my stomach churned. Like any child that dealt with a menacing-looking tree, static on an analog television, or a creepy stuffed animal their family thrust upon them, it was clear that Poltergeist spoke directly to me.
As I learned later in life, that may have been close to Spielberg's intention. Like E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, released a week later in 1982, he framed this story through the lens of a child's experience. Children can be easily frightened by stuffed animals, or thunderstorms, dark closets, or even a misshapen tree. Parents generally try to assuage them, and over time they overcome those irrational fears. Poltergeist is intimately aware of those fears, and they're all systematically brought to life in the film. The scary tree will eat you, clowns are evil, and the closet literally will come after you. In this film, the cozy comforts of a friendly neighborhood and a cookie-cutter home cannot save you. From a parent's perspective, all the safeguards we build up around our children, all the rules about talking to strangers, the fears we allay in our kids- this film boots them to the side, praying on our "parent" brain as well. The film begins with that innocent, sweet tone, slowly lurking in the shadows to take everything precious and stomp on it.
Spielberg and crew made a smart, timely film that tore into the very fabric of baby boomers' suburban dreams. Representing the now aging demographic is Steven Freeling (Nelson). He's the consummate post- hippie salesman father, passively parenting his children, selling carbon copy real estate like an old pro, escaping in aggressive Sunday football parties and beers with the exuberance of a frat boy. His wife Diane (Williams), still riding that wave of hippie bliss, has yet to encounter her primal, maternal self at the beginning of the film. Perhaps it's the pot residue, but the most trying thing she seems to encounter are misplaced clothes and the death of the family bird. They're living the dream, or at least the Reaganomics version of the dream. Even their kids are cute and relatively well- behaved, if not also blissfully unaware. The dynamic can be summed up in a scene where Carol Anne (O'Rourke) is gently chided for staring at static on the screen for it will "hurt her eyes"; Diane changes the channel, apparently fine with the war film now on the tube instead. Oh, the irony!
Then it starts to happen. Carol Anne is caught talking to the 'TV people' in the dead of the night, the house appears to quake, and household objects move themselves. At first, Steven and Diane think it neat, like a trippy magic trick; then comes the menace of the trippy magic trick, the snatching of the 'WASP' dream. Carol Anne is taken somewhere, Robbie (Robins) is nearly devoured, and Dana (Dunne) is hysterical. Steven, against his beliefs, consults a parapsychology team at the local college. This motley crew, led by Dr. Lesh (Straight) and the odd, diminutive Tangina (Rubenstein), quickly learn that the Freeling's predicament far exceeds the excitement of a time-lapse video. In the span of fifteen minutes in the film, we go from seeing this relatively normal family deal with a standard, nighttime thunderstorm to being completely strung out in immeasurable grief, pleading with pseudo-science for assistance. This paranormal spirit that envelops the Freeling house succeeds in luring the family into a false sense of security, then it viscerally "breaks on through to the other side". What follows is a series of unexpected, thrilling, deeply moving scenes that play with the notions of life, death, instinct, and fear.
Read the full review here: http://filmfanperspective.com/2015/05/20/classic-film-review- poltergeist-1982/