Sam Raimi’s feature-length debut, The Evil Dead, is a landmark in modern horror cinema. This invigorating exposé into unrelenting guerilla gore was the first occasion that Bruce Campbell was permitted an extended period in which to exhibit his burgeoning style. However, aside from its frights, the movie houses a subtle wit as it stylistically, in lieu of its minuscule budget, heralds forth the story which would comprise the first of a trio of films which few horror franchises claim to hold a light.
Five college students–Ashley “Ash” Willims (Bruce Campbell); his girlfriend, Linda (Betsy Baker); Ash’s sister, Cheryl (Ellen Sandweiss); Scotty (Richard DeManincor); and Scotty’s girlfriend, Shelly (Theresa Tilly)–rent a rundown, isolated cabin in the Tennessee mountains for the weekend. As they browse through the cottage’s cellar, they discover a book entitled the Naturom Demonto, an ancient Sumerian text of Candarian resurrection incantations, and a recording of the text’s passages. By playing the reel, unseen demonic presences are awakened which begin to possess the individuals within the cabin one-by-one.
Unlike the excessively popular, clichéd horror plot involving a set of teens stranded in the woods, Raimi presents the viewer with a film with no gratuitous sex or teenage ignorance, merely a cavalcade of characters who desperately attempt to fend for their lives against a host of demonic entities. What results is–once the establishing scenes are set in place–unabashed, perpetual terror, the pacing of which is comparable to that of James Cameron’s Aliens (all the more remarkable considering the difference in budget and experience between the two camps).
A large part of the film’s success in effectively conveying such terror is the claustrophobia evoked. Not only does nightfall enclose the isolated cabin in which the characters find themselves, but the humble abode itself is comprised of a series of excessively small rooms. The masterstroke in the setting is that the cabin itself is neither “cabinish” or theatrically dilapidated as its visceral nature is cast forth via its realism. Case in point, the cottage looks as if it were actually lived in by people at one time (as opposed to pre-made for vacationers), the epitome of which is witnessed in the bathroom’s yellow walls (hardly a color to be expected in a horror film). As a consequence of such subtleties, the viewer is permitted to feel more at home in that the cabin, from its introduction, seems genuine and never fabricated at any turn and, as such, the audience is justifiably violated when such sanctity has been breeched.
Yet, the charm of the film lies in its wit, the articulation of which is rarely evidenced in productions even today. Amid the unyielding assaults by the dark forces, we are granted sardonic, yet fluid, moments of levity from the least likely of places: the antagonists. For example, during her first attack upon her friends after being possessed, Cheryl feigns unconsciousness. In and of itself this might not seem humorous until one discovers that the possessed exhibit superhuman strength and do not need to resort to Machiavellian tactics in which to kill those around them. As such, what is presented is a wryly comedic undertone. We watch as the possessed character of Shelly, cindered after being cast into a fire, show her ironic gratitude: “I don’t know what I would have done if I had remained on those hot coals . . . burning my pretty flesh,” she says as she pauses to humbly thank Ash for saving her before continuing her onslaught. Cheryl, after being cast into the cellar, listens to the deliberations of those remaining as the camera’s POV is cast from her vantage point, à la a tennis match, before she–not threatens mind you–but mocks Scotty’s pleas of desperation. The absurdity of the paranormal situation does not go unacknowledged as she later utters, “Soon all of you will be like me. And then who will lock you up in a cellar?” Of course, considering the pacing, it would be easy to overlook the fact that Ash seems to be bound under a collapsed bookcase at every turn, thus not threatened by the demons first and foremost, but by his inanimate surroundings. This says nothing of Linda, once possessed, posing a childlike naivety amid her malevolence, exhibited by her merely taunting Ash by way of sitting in a doorway and making nerve-wracking noises while nonchalantly appearing as a young Betty White. Of course, the ingenious nature of having a demon merely sit placidly in front of her potential victim also sallies forth a sense of overwhelming tension as the viewer anticipates her assault.
Also of note is the fact that Raimi’s film put H. P. Lovecraft’s Necronomicon on map of a mass consciousness as the Book of the Dead is seen complete with a page from William Blake (and the revelatory factoid that pages that are written in blood resemble, to a remarkable degree, a ballpoint likeness) as a poster of Wes Craven’s vigilante production, The Hills have Eyes, looms in the background. Furthermore, as we follow Ash into the shed, gourds and various other items of interest dangle in midair as a knowing wink and nod to another under funded horror classic, Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
All in all, given what we should have expected with a rookie filmmaker holding only a fistful of single bills, The Evil Dead is a landmark production in that novice producer Robert Tapert not only succinctly placed the film’s funds exactly where they belonged, but the creativity in Sam Raimi’s compensation for what he didn’t have in order to make what he needed is all the more remarkable considering, even by modern, big budget horror standards, few can hold a light to his amazingly influential production.
The Blu-ray disc has an all new Audio Commentary track with Writer/Director Sam Raimi, Producer Robert Tapert and star Bruce Campbell. However, that is where the special features stop on the Blu-ray disc. The Limited Edtion Blu-ray comes with a DVD disc that features all of the other special features all of which were previously part of The Evil Dead Ultimate Edition DVD release. Such feature include The featurette One By One We Will Take You: The Untold Saga Of The Evil Dead, The Evil Dead: Treasures From The Cutting Room Floor, Discovering The Evil Dead, Unconventional, At The Drive-In, Reunion Panel, Make-up Test, The Ladies of the Evil Dead meet Bruce Campbell, Book of the Dead: The Other Pages, and of course your basic still gallery, theatrical trailer and television spots. While not all the features from The Evil Dead Ultimate Edition DVD are on this disc, you still get your moneys worth in special features. It’s just to bad it’s on a DVD and is not part of the Blu-ray experience.
Trivia tidbit: Of retrospective comic value, the white fluid effused by the deceased demons during the production is 2% milk, Raimi’s attempt at appeasing the MPAA board in hopes of evading an X rating in lieu of the fact the film presents excessive amounts of gore, reminiscent of the Italian horror productions which came before, and a horticultural rape scene (the film would go on to become one of the first “Video Nasties” in Europe). Also, Joel Coen, a friend of the director’s, is credited as assistant film editor.
– Egregious Gurnow
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