It’s said that gentlemen prefer blondes. If this is a truism, I wonder what it says
about folks like me who prefer brunettes.
Maybe it’s because I’m a Scorpio, or maybe it’s some bizarre
psychosexual thing none of us should probably delve too deeply into, but the
darker the hair, the more I like it.
What’s even more bizarre, I like women with odd-colored hair, to boot. Blue, green, or fire truck red, girls with
“bubblegum” hair coloring interest me immensely. Oh, sure, blondes like Marilyn Monroe are
truly creatures of beauty, and to be fair, there are quite a number of blondes
who I find deeply attractive, but let’s not forget, before she was Marilyn,
Norma Jean Baker was a brunette. This brings
up one of the things that I feel limns the difference between the flaxen and
the dusky. A great many blondes aren’t
blondes at all. In the spirit of
honesty, there are a number of blondes who turn toward the dark side as well,
but usually (or at least more noticeably) the trend is to go from dark to
light, not the other way around. What’s
incredible to me is that a great many of the bottled blondes I’ve seen are
actually more attractive as they were (not all, certainly, but a lot). Yet, society holds the golden-haired up on a
pedestal while pushing the darker-haired into the shadows. But maybe that’s where they should be. Maybe if they were more popular, they
wouldn’t hold the same allure for me.
It’s like the Eddie Murphy routine about how if you just have the same
old crackers every day, you don’t appreciate it, but if you’re starving, one
cracker is the greatest thing in the world (he tells it funnier than we’re
going for here, and his routine’s not actually about crackers, but work with me
on this). I will say this, though, Pamela Gidley, the star of Tim Boxell’s Aberration, has been on both sides of this follicular coin, and
I have to say, she is utterly stunning in either mode.
Amy (Gidley) and her cat Frankie drive into the remote
mountain village of Langdon (somewhere in the USA, I assume) in the dead of
winter. Returning to her family’s old,
dilapidated cabin, she stashes a money belt under the loose floor boards. Meanwhile, lethal, leapin’ lizards roam
around, picking off what animals and people they can and tormenting Amy with
their shenanigans. When her car fails,
though, she manages to bum a ride back to her cabin from local biologist (and
all-around pantywaist) Marshall (Simon
Bossell) on the promise of letting him look at some grotesque egg sacs
lying all over her place (talk about a come-on). Needless to say, the lizards are more than
they appear (well, yes and no), but they may not be the only threat once a
blizzard sets in, stranding Amy and Marshall with no option but to fight for
their lives.
Weather is one of those devices which seem tailor made for
films. The dead heat of summer can
reflect the sweat-drenched strain of heightened sexuality as well as a strong
nostalgia for childhood (which many people consider the summer of their
lives). A thunderstorm can denote a
maelstrom of emotion as well as the impending inevitability and chaos of a
final confrontation. Weather is one of
the things I appreciate when it’s used meaningfully in a movie, even when it’s
somewhat cliché. A storm is always
a-brewin’ in films (especially Action and Horror) and particularly as they enter
their third act. But what’s interesting
to me in this film is the idea of the “mean season.” It’s not just winter, it’s a brutal
winter. You don’t just snuggle up in
your comforter and nap your way to spring.
No, everyday is a struggle for survival.
Food is scarce, and every step you take out of doors could easily be
your last. Snow blindness is
omnipresent, making everywhere menacing, since (like the dark or the ocean
depths or a thick fog) you can never be totally sure what’s out there only
inches away until it’s upon you, and you’re already dead. Sure, the bears are
hibernating for the winter, but that’s because they’re smarter than the humans
who try to last out the term.
And here’s where I need to bring up one of the larger
aggravations in Aberration. At no time is there any sense of urgency nor
is there any indication that the characters feel they are in danger of any
kind. Amy and Marshall wreck a car on a
snow-covered road, but they behave as if they stubbed their toes. Surrounded by mutated lizards who can scurry
inside the walls and attack at any moment, our heroes act like they’re just
some mice that need exterminating, not a menace that could cost them their
lives at any moment. Every plot point reeks
of nugacity, and I can only assume that everyone in front of and behind the
camera were only concerned with enjoying a relaxing vacation in New Zealand
(where the film was shot, from what I gather) rather than portraying any sense
that they take any of this seriously or selling said feeling(s) to the
audience.
Like the creatures in the Alien series, the lizards in this film hatch from
disgusting-looking eggs and have a knack for evolution. However, unlike the Alien, these miniature
Gila monsters, don’t actually go through stages, and their adaptations are so
rapid and unsignaled, they play like the facile plot conveniences they are just
to keep the plot (such as it is) alive (though not necessarily moving). Matters are entirely unaided by the special
creature effects, which appear to me as if a bunch of lizard toys were bought
at the local McRory’s (or whatever five-and-dime store they have in New
Zealand, if they even still had them by 1997) and then tugged around the sets on
fishing line. The idea inherent in the
beasts, that they constantly become something new, shed skin as reptiles are
wont to do (at least to my knowledge), and reveal themselves reborn, is a
strong one, and it is evinced to a slight extent in the human
protagonists. Sadly, like damn near
everything else in the film, it’s little more than capricious veneer and wasted
opportunity (a trait I always find deeply regrettable in movies). I have seen movies where the budget wouldn’t
buy a can of Coca Cola (with or without inflation), but they were still more
entertaining than Aberration,
because the filmmakers cared about what they were putting onscreen (even if
what they were putting onscreen was crap), and unless the viewer is completely
oblivious, they will feel it, and if they care even remotely about cinema, they
will resent it.
MVT: The setup is solid for a low budget
Horror film, and it contains all the elements it needs to be a solid low budget
Horror film (including capable actors).
That the film fails the premise isn’t the premise’s fault. It’s the fault of the filmmakers.
Make Or Break: If you’ve read any synopsis for this film,
you know that the money Amy hid in the cabin floor is not entirely hers. When the money’s owner (or co-owner, it’s all
semantics) Uri (Valeriy Nikolaev)
shows up, the movie suddenly becomes an exercise in ridiculousness. This guy flops around like he’s practicing
Mad Monkey Kung Fu (he’s not, just so we’re all on the same page and you don’t
go getting your hopes up), and instead of creating another formidable obstacle
for the protagonists, he instead creates a target for the viewer’s derision.
Score: 4.5/10
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