Recently I waxed shitical about how shit Shocker was, and I probably said something about how much I liked Wes Craven and that he’d let me down and if he did it again I’d set fire to a dog turd and shove it through his letterbox or something. Well, with My Soul To Take, he had a chance to get back in my good books (and I’ll tell you, they’re something you want to be in) – but did he manage it?
HE FUCKING WELL DIDN’T DID HE?
HE DIDN’T DID HE EH?
OI YOU, HE SHAFTING WELL DID NOT DID HE?
MATE? YEAH YOU! HE SODDING DIDN’T.
COCKING WELL SHUNTING DIDN’T.
DICK-SUCKING WELL FINGERING DIDN’T.
FISTING WELL RIMMING DIDN’T.
SPRAY ON YOUR TITS WELL DOGGYSTYLE DIDN’T.
STRAP-ON UP THE BUM UNLUCKY WELL TIT-WANKING DIDN’T.
DONE A POO IN YOUR PANTS ON THE TRAIN OH SHIT I HOPE NOBODY NOTICES WELL ACTUALLY EVERYONE’S LOOKING AT ME AND IT’S OBVIOUS BECAUSE I’VE PISSED MYSELF DIDN’T.
You get the idea.
Basically, My Soul To Take wasn’t up to scratch.
The story surrounds a group of teenagers who were born on the same night a ruthless serial killer was supposedly killed and so every year they hold a weird birthday ceremony where someone dresses up as the killer, comes out of the lake and one of the birthday boys/girls has to pretend to fight him. This is something I assume you would do in this situation. Anyway, on their sixteenth birthday people actually start getting killed for real and it’s all a bit spooky because everyone reckons the serial killer has come back from the dead. Has he? Who knows, you’ll have to see.
It starts off really mint, with a pretty brutal opening sequence which reminded me of horrors of old like House III: The Horror Show. At this point, I said out loud, “Craven’s back, ladies!” and my hareem began to undress and pleasure me. Then I said, “Fuck off, I’m trying to watch a film – kissy kissy can come later.”
The film is still going relatively well even after the first killing, which is pretty shocking and even a bit scary pants. But then it all goes steadily downhill and ends up long-arming its own piss whilst getting punched in the nuts by me.
To be honest, it’s nearly all down to the script by Craven – it’s ludicrous. So many weird and stupid things happen; one minute it’s a no-holds barred horror flick, next it’s a teen comedy, then it’s a supernatural psychological thriller. It doesn’t know what it wants to be and as a result, it ends up so confused that it rubs off onto the viewer. I mean, I didn’t know whether I wanted a Pepperami or some Haribo when it had finished. The next morning I woke up standing in my kitchen – turns out I’d been there all night trying to decide.
Went for Pepperami in the end.
Anyway – it’s not great. It doesn’t help that over in the US, it was released in 3D in the cinemas, but over here it went straight to 2D DVD, because this would probably have been one of the cases where 3D might have made it better. Some tits might have helped too. In fact, I’m not quite sure why it was an 18 because it’s not that violent and there’s a distinct lack of nudity. Maybe it’s because someone gets called the c-word (you know, the one that begins with a ‘c’, ends with a ‘t’, has ‘un’ in the middle and rhymes with ‘cunt’).
Either way, My Soul To Take was a distinctly average movie from one of horror cinema’s greatest directors. It really doesn’t bode well for Scream 4 does it?
I’ll give it 5 18s out of 10.