Venom - The Atlanta Journal-Constitution movie review

'Venom' is old-school, grisly carnage

By BOB LONGINO
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

In the devastating wake of Hurricane Katrina, one thing you might not expect to find at the megaplex is a brand-new film shot in Louisiana and sporting a horde of dead bodies.

But here it is. The horror film "Venom" opens today full of rural Louisiana voodoo, a back-from-the-dead killer, mindless bloodletting, exposed guts, teen victims stacked so high you can't even see over them and, oh yeah, snakes. Lots of slithering, biting vipers.

Dimension Films

'Venom'

B-

The verdict: Straight-on blood-and-exposed-guts horror film that's a serviceable, if humorless, meat grinder.

Director: Jim Gillespie
Starring: Agnes Bruckner, Method Man, Bijou Phillips, D.J. Cotrona, Jonathan Jackson
Run time: 85 minutes
Release date: September 16, 2005
Rating: R for strong horror violence/gore, and language.
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Before it was finally called "Venom," this low-budget thriller teeming with no-name actors went by other titles like "Backwater" and "The Reaper." It was filmed last year (mostly in and around tiny Choctaw near Baton Rouge and New Orleans). Though the timing of its release seems a bit suspect, there's nothing really in the film to suggest bad taste — other than the vomit courted by mindless, bloody, violent film carnage.

And what carnage it is. "Venom" is old school. Its stark style, earnest treatment and rough-edged cinematography recall the grislier aspects of the "Friday the 13th" movies and the stalking nature of "Halloween."

"Venom" is not better than those movies. Not by a long shot. But director Jim Gillespie ("I Know What You Did Last Summer") has made a serviceable, if completely humorless, meat grinder. He seems to understand the genre better than the clueless who've been delivering recent Hollywood superschlock remakes like "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and "House of Wax."

"Venom's" plot, whether it actually matters or not, is simple. Voodoo has captured the evil essence of a host of killers, pedophiles and the just plain no good. A gruesome accident has let that evil essence loose and it's found a suitable host — the small, grimy town of Backwater's not-so-small, grimy, gas-and-garage owner (played with minimal dialogue and multiple demonic gurglings by Marietta-born actor Rick Cramer).

Before you can say Freddy Krueger, the bodies are piling up, the blood's flowing and Gillespie is serving up enough small twists and outright surprises to make his film work.

Sure, this is lowbrow stuff. There are gruesome impalings with a crowbar, big gashes with knives, severed arms and plenty of spine-tinging wailing. At least some of the most intense violence is lost in fast swirls of film editing.

But you have to love a film that knows how to make its audience squirm.

What better way to do that than have a small pack of frightened teens, among the few so far who've been able to elude their stalker, move to the offense by taking one of his victims and making a full-scale voodoo doll out of him — complete with a handy and healthy set of steak knives at the ready to thrust into the body like pins.

Can you say, "Ouch"?